The left-hand corridor beyond the Great Hall stretched before them, a long expanse that was less stone passage and more fleshy tube pulsating with growths, the walls warping like the inside of some colossal, breathing beast. It could not have been clearer that the Dungeon was alive—watching, waiting.
Which was more than anyone could say about the other museum employees they walked past. Although in their own, separate instance, the Dungeon seemed keen for Lowe and his party to see how poorly everyone else was doing in negotiating it.
"How come everyone is wiping? If the Dungeon is balancing itself to the individual delver - or, at worst, to the Level of the highest person in the party - shouldn't at least a few people be doing okay?"
Preece shook his head. "You've got to remember the audience here. I wouldn't be surprised if I was the only person who worked here who had ever been down a Dungeon in their life. Mind you," the
Lowe’s instincts were screaming at him to stay on alert. With Gral in the party, the Dungeon had already spiked its difficulty, and every creak, every shift in the shadows felt like a prelude to something catalysmic about to arrive. Even after two more of Mylaf's smoothies, he was conscious that his mana still hadn’t fully regenerated yet. It felt less than ideal for the party's tank to be relying on pure grit to keep moving forward.
“Is it just me, or are we moving downwards?” Karolen muttered. “Feels like it's getting colder.”
“That's because it is,” Gral said, his voice tight. “These walls—they weren’t like this before. They’re... evolving.”
“Dungeons feed on fear and death,” Preece said. “This one is brand new, and it's hungry. And it knows we’re in here.”
Lowe rolled his shoulders and stopped short. “I appreciate you are the one with the expertise here, but if you could stop being quite so doomful about it, I'm sure we'd all appreciate it.” He turned his attention back to the corridor, body still aching from the venomous bite. He wasn’t sure how much further they had to go - the geography of the museum had totally transformed since it had become a Dungeon - but the more they walked, the deeper they seemed to be going.
Suddenly, Karolen stopped, raising a hand. “Hold up.”
“What is it?” Lowe said.
The
Lowe followed her gaze, and sure enough, a section of the floor ahead seemed to dip slightly—a subtle shift in the stone that was barely noticeable. Barely, but not enough for the sharp eyes of a Level 20
“If I were putting money on it, I'd say that was some sort of trap.”
“Awesome. Any idea what kind?” Lowe asked Preece.
The older man shook her head. “No, but whatever it is, it won’t be pleasant. Level 33 and all that," he added, glaring at Gral.
“Great. Look, I don't want to be a whiner here, but if we could figure out a way forward that didn't involve me just walking into it and seeing what happens, I'd really appreciate it.”
Karolen bent down, studying the trap for a moment before stepping carefully around it. “Looks like it only triggers if you step directly on it. Just follow my lead.”
Lowe nodded and followed suit, carefully avoiding the trap. Gral pushed past Preece to follow, but his foot slipped, and he stumbled forward.
As the lawyer's foot hit the plate with a dull thunk, the entire corridor rumbled in response. Lowe’s heart skipped a beat as he lunged forward, grabbing Gral by the collar and yanking him back just as the walls on either side exploded with spikes, jagged metal spears shooting out at terrifying speed.
Lowe barely managed to pull Gral clear, the spikes missing him by inches. His heart pounded as he stared at row upon row of spears jutting from the walls. Fuck. Where was Latham when he needed him?
For once, Gral seemed genuinely affected by what had happened, his eyes wide with shock. “I—I didn’t see it—”
“You almost got wiped!” Lowe snapped, his voice sharp with adrenaline. “Pay attention!”
Just stick close and don’t wander off. I can’t keep pulling your ass out of the fire every five minutes. It's this deadly because you are with us. The least you could do is carry your own weight.”
Karolen chuckled softly. “Perhaps we should invest in a leash for our esteemed colleague.”
Lowe shot her a glare. “Not helping!.”
“Merely offering a practical solution.”
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They continued down the corridor, the traps becoming more frequent and potentially deadly with every step. It became clear that the only practical way forward - in lieu of a party member with Disarm Traps - was for Lowe to go first and be the most blundering delver in the history of Dungeons.
This was doing little for either his physical or his mental health.
"How the fuck are you still alive?" Karolen asked him in a recovery pause after he had led with his chin into a swinging pendulum of rock. "How good is your heal Skill!"
Lowe just shook his head and popped a 500 HP cookie in his mouth. Having the equivalent Intelligence and Wisdom of a Level 50 was letting Roll with the Punches bounce him straight back from damage that should be zeroing him, but it wasn't doing anything to stop him from feeling every cut, burn or crush injury. He was pretty sure it was only Mental Fortress working overtime that was keeping him stubborn enough to keep taking step after step forward. Even then, he was starting to struggle.
“Let's just hope the next room isn’t too bad,” he replied.
Less than half a bell of torture later, the party reached a heavy, iron door at the end of the hallway. Lowe’s gut - or it could just have been recent, appalling experience - told him whatever was behind this door wasn’t going to be pleasant.
"We could go back?" he asked hopefully.
Preece shook his head. "I don't want to be that guy, but I'd be pretty sure all the traps would have rearmed. Going back would be about as much fun as coming through . . . "
Lowe snorted and put his hand on the door. "Ready?” he asked, glancing at the others.
Karolen nodded, manifesting her
With a shove, Lowe pushed the door open, the heavy iron creaking loudly as it swung inward. "Oh, for fuck's sake!"
The room inside was vast, a cavernous space that seemed far too large to fit within the museum’s structure. The walls were lined with more of the grotesque, pulsating growths, and the air was thick with the stench of decay. But what caught Lowe’s attention immediately was the sight of what lay scattered across the floor.
Gear.
Weapons, armour, supplies—everything they could have possibly needed for the rest of their journey. It was all there, strewn haphazardly across the ground as if dropped by someone—or something—in a hurry.
“Well, that seems fortunate . . . ” Preece said.
Karolen stepped forward cautiously, scanning the room for any signs of danger. “I don’t see any traps, but, you know, this is the reddest of red flags.”
Lowe didn't disagree. However . . . "Look, I don't know about anyone else, but I need gear that can help me weather all the damage. I hadn't exactly packed for a Level 33 Dungeon." Cautiously, he stepped into the centre of the space.
Straight in front of him, he saw a set of armour—Level 25 (of course it was. Almost like it had been left for him) leather, reinforced with steel plates. It looked lightweight but durable, perfect for someone like Lowe who needed mobility as much as protection. There was also a sword—a well-crafted, Level 25 blade that practically hummed with latent power. He reached for it, feeling its weight in his hand.
“Careful,” Karolen warned. “Don’t touch anything that feels . . . off.”
“It's weird, but this actually feels the opposite,” Lowe said, inspecting the blade. It wasn’t enchanted, but it was sharp, and - more importantly than anything else - it felt like it would hold a charge of Slugger.
As Lowe strapped on the armour, Karolen knelt beside a pile of supplies, rifling through the gear. She pulled out a set of throwing knives, each etched with runes that glowed faintly in the dim light. “These will do."
Preece, meanwhile, was staring at a staff leaning against the wall. It was ornate, made of dark wood and inlaid with silver filigree, but it had an air of menace that made Lowe uneasy.
“You sure about that?” Lowe asked, eyeing the staff warily.
Preece hesitated, then nodded. “It’s a Curator’s Staff. It’ll help me with my identification Skills. And . . . look, I think I might need it.”
Gral watched all of this with a sly grin. “A veritable treasure trove, isn’t it? Almost as if the Dungeon is offering us a gift.”
Lowe didn’t trust the bounty, but the way he saw it, they didn’t have much choice. They needed this gear if they were going to survive whatever was waiting for them deeper in the Dungeon. He finished strapping on the armour, feeling a little more secure with the steel plates covering his chest and shoulders. Mylaf was going to kick his arse when she saw the state of his suit.
As they prepared to move forward, a low rumble echoed through the room, followed by a faint, rhythmic thumping sound. Lowe tensed, gripping his new sword tightly.
“What now?” Karolen said, her eyes scanning the room for the source of the noise.
The floor beneath their feet began to tremble, the thumping growing louder, more insistent. Lowe could feel it in his bones, a deep, primal rhythm that seemed to pulse through the very air.
“It’s coming from beneath us,” Preece whispered, "Something's coming."
Lowe started running for the exit on the opposite side of the cavern. “Fucking move. Now!”
The party hurried across the room, their new gear clinking softly with every step. The door to which they were heading was a large, arched doorway, but as they approached, the rumbling intensified. As they ran, the walls around them began to shift, the pulsating growths twitching and expanding.
“Well, this is going well!” Karolen yelled, turning to look behind her as they reached the exit. Then, the floor beneath them erupted in a shower of stone shards. Lowe barely had time to react before a massive, hulking figure emerged from the ground, its body covered in jagged armour.
“Go, go, go!” Lowe shouted, pushing Preece forward as whatever the creature was roared.
They sprinted through the door, slamming it shut behind them. The rock monster simply exploded through it and stayed hot on their heels, lumbering forward. Fortunately, the corridor beyond them was narrow, the walls closing in around them as they ran, making it harder for the creature to move as easily as them. Although, as this was because it was at least twice their side and fixated on their imminent demise, this was very much a good news/bad news situation
“We need to lose it!” Karolen shouted, her breath coming in short gasps.
"You think!" Lowe replied, caught between leading the way down the corridor in case of danger and putting himself at the back of the group so the monster chasing them reached him first.
“There!” Gral shouted, pointing to a side passage, an even narrower tunnel that branched off from the main corridor.
Lowe didn’t hesitate. “Take it! It won't be able to follow us down there.”
They veered off into the side tunnel, the sound of the creature’s pursuit growing fainter as they moved deeper into the narrow passage. The walls here were closer, the air colder, but for the moment, they were safe.
For now.