I blink.

Once.

Then twice.

Then three times.

Not three seconds have passed.

I tilt my head in absolute apprehension towards the source of the commotion - the monster. I feel my throat choking up, or rather, my entire body choking up in astonishment.

My eyes widen and I subconsciously grip my weapons and unsheathe Cheryl. In that brief instant anger and horror and dread and confusion and alarm and bewilderment and again horror wash over me like a flood. Like a roaring, insatiable flood. My jaw drops and I tilt my head back condescendingly.

I couldn't-

I mustn't have-

I didn't-

"AHHHHHHHHH!!!"

think.

I instantly charge with no second thought. There's nothing left in the world that could stop me. The only thing in front of me is Graham, the metallic monster, and me.

I disregard everything. All the cautions and procedures that Graham and I set up beforehand had vanished. In front of me, everything turned white except what mattered.

What mattered to me and me only-

With utmost urgency, my blood boiling as it courses through my veins-

...

I need to fucking kill that metal thing now.

Now!

I sprint as fast as I can through the room, past Graham, past all the other figures in the room without precaution. I didn't exactly catch sight of the other people in the room - I couldn't. I could only see what was in front of me.

I navigate around the depressions in and the multitude of metallic lumps dangerously prickling out of the ground. The closer I get to the monster the larger it seems to tower and arc over me, as if its initial height were an illusion. I grab my blade with my dominant hand wielding the gauntlet and thrust it with full force once I reached a close enough distance.

Swoosh!

The blade flickers and the only thing you can see is its faded afterimages. The blade appears stuck to the other end of the wall, released from my hand. The metallic monster, with its cubical, humorously geometrical body and devilish red, glowing eyes, appears completely unscathed.

That's because it is. I'm certain the blade passed through it, especially with the speed and strength of Ringarde, and it clearly appears to have passed through, yet nothing happened to the monster. The blade just phased without inflicting any damage.

Is that possible?

It just happened. The logic within this dungeon is still murky water, so it's best to not question it.

That means Cheryl can't damage the monster. I had premonitions about it already, since it is metallic, but it really seems to be useless. There's no 'flesh' to cut. That's a shame, since Cheryl, despite Ringarde's inhumane strength and power, has the highest offensive ability out of the two weapons. The original monster wielding this weapon had no problems cutting through the gem on the boss monster's chest, so why I can't I do the same? At least, why can't I inflict any damage? Is it not possible? Am I lacking the speed and strength of the original monster, even with Ringarde? I'm extremely weak still compared to that monster, but is it still not possible to do anything? Was the original monster's blade different?

Now's not the time to think about this. There's a deadly monster in front of me and I need to avert all my focus on this...

mission of revenge.

The monster finally notices my provocation and stands immobile for a quite a while. It then mechanically shifts towards my direction. It points a fist, which too like its other appendages lacks a joint and appears floating, towards me and an odd, ear piercing sound resonates through the room. The other figures in the room stumble and wince. I feel uncomfortable as well but I stand tall and ready. A giant piece of metal that's orbiting around the monster suddenly departs from its path and gains speed towards me where the hand was pointing.

At an exponential rate.

I thought I had enough space to dodge, but...

I can't dodge.

Tch!

I stop in my tracks and pivot my ankles. I pull my hand back and charge power into my gauntlet. Right as the giant lump of metal charges towards me, I release my energy and punch with all my might, with Ringarde making contact with the metal.

HEAVY...

It's extremely heavy, like punching the weight of a high-speed bus with your bare fists. The large lump of metal is sent back like a baseball being hit by a slugger and lunges past the metal monster towards the wall. All the other figures in the room, which I still couldn't make out the exact specifications of due to my lack of attention, seem to pull back, in what I would assume to be astonishment.

I recoil backward a sizable distance and roll on the floor. My entire body twists and turns painfully, shaking due to the insane level of vibrations resulting from the recoil alone. I feel like a hollow shell. My entire mind's a mess.

I finally regain some composure and return to my feet, only to meet the monster again pointing in my direction. Before I realize it another lump of metal is sent my way, leaving me helpless. Again, I have no time to evade.

It's going way too fast.

I pull back again haphazardly, and due to the difference of my current position, I quickly decide to launch the metal lump back at a different angle. I charge and I punch...

CRASH!

I get launched back once more, but not nearly as far as I didn't take the force head on. I couldn't stop the force completely, and I definitely wasn't able to properly brace for the impact. I'm mostly saved as the metal does shoot off in the intended direction, but as a result of my poor counter, I am forced back. Blood spurts out of my mouth and I am sent back at a speed around 60 mp/h.

I stumble and skid across the floor, finally stopping short of the dungeon's wall. The earthen smell mixed with tinges of iron fills my nostrils and the blurred sight of the soft light from the torches and the cold, stone wall and floor wash dazedly over me.

I could then hear a messy groan of some sort coming from the monster, with an insanely deep pitch reverberating through my chest and bones. I somehow make myself stand and immediately run in the perpendicular direction from which I came, to the side, without thinking. That little bit of time saved me from getting hit by another metal lump, which crashes timely into my shadows.

I drink a high-grade potion from my pouch. I notice that the other potions in my belt have been either crushed upon my impact from the fall or lost, released from my belt and spilled due to the momentum. This includes my other high-grade potions save for one. I have no time to weigh my options as more lumps of metal come my way in quick succession and I quickly down the sweet, rejuvenating concoction and sprint and roll away in likewise succession, narrowly dodging each of the deadly masses of metal. I have enough time to react and dodge this time due to my increased distance, all the while the potion works its literal magic healing my pains. I feel the power of the potions filling my stomach and coursing through my veins and arteries. I feel my bones and muscles strengthening and my mind refreshing to peak performance.

I call back the blade and it quickly returns to my hand. I fix it in a suitable position and take a stance. Right when I am about to charge in again, calculating in my head quickly my options for dealing with the monster, I feel a hand abruptly touch my shoulder, surprising and halting me.

"STOP!" A voice yells from behind me. I turn around. It's Graham. His left arm, especially the end where the flesh is cut off, is glowing a soft red glow.

"Graham!" I call out relievingly yet hesitantly.

"What are you doing!" It's the first time I've ever seen Graham raise his voice. My eyes are flickering and flashing; hundreds, thousands of ideas running and running and running through my mind.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

"Don't worry!" I turn my head and stare at the cold-blooded beast of alloy with cold, hard eyes and a look of horror that can kill, completely ignoring my earlier pain and failure. I smile creepily. "I will definitely kill it and crush it into a million pieces for you! All I have to do is kill it. Hahahahaha!"

Yes. There's only one thing on my mind. I shut everything else out. The one thing that matters right now...

All I have to do is...

Kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill-

Slap!

My face turns. A stinging sensation runs across my cheek. I look at Graham in a state of confusion. Graham's remaining hand is lifted in the air, past my head, his face stern and reprimanding.

"Snap out of it, Ely. You're going crazy. Stop being hasty. Look what it's doing to you. You almost got yourself killed, you madman! Calm down and let's approach this with a level head. Such rashness will be the end to not only you but to all of us!"

Graham gestures to the other figures in the room. Only now do I stop to pay attention to the other people.

That's right - other people.

There are other people here.

"Wait! Graham, what about your arm!" I suddenly remember Graham's arm being blown off and it still currently being pinned to the wall of the room over.

Graham lowers his head momentarily then looks up indifferently. "I'm fine, it's okay. I just drank the high-level potion you gave me earlier. Thank goodness I had that on me. Who would've known I would've needed it already? Make sure you keep the rest of the potions in stock and ready, especially the high-grade boss level ones, which are extremely crucial now that-"

Graham stops his words as his eyes gloss over my belt pouch, where previously potions filled the gaps.

"-Never mind. Looks like you're dry as well. Now that we have no more high-grade healing on us, we have to be even more diligent. Not like we were going to let up either. But, we don't have the luxury of healing extreme wounds quickly anymore. Plus, look behind you. We're closed in."

I look behind me as Graham instructed. As he said, behind me, one of the larger metal balls collapsed in on the door, blocking the pathway.

Tch.

"... I'm sorry..." I apologize regretfully.

"That doesn't matter now. What we need to focus on now is how to deal with that."

Graham looks up and surveys the monster and the room. The metal monster stands immobile once again. Lumps of metal are slowly but surely gravitating towards him. It must be trying to replenish its metal supply since it has launched most of its orbiting metal in the efforts of crushing me.

I look at Graham and he looks back at me.

"We seem to have the same idea. You also have seemed to regain your sanity, thank goodness. If what we assume is true, then we have a much-needed grace period. We need to formulate a strategy and cooperate with the other members here. It's our best chance of survival."

I nod in agreement and together, we approach one of the figures - the first man who had yelled the initial warning. He's wielding a fancy composite bow along with wearing lightweight dark green-black attire with a flame-tip hat. On his back is an arrow pouch. The man himself is young with distinct, defined facial lines and dark, wavy hair, indicating he's most likely foreign - I'd wager European. After noticing us approach him, he starts back, but once we get closer he cautiously approaches us, realizing we aren't going to forcefully engage and therefore act dangerously and become yet another threat among threats.

"Hello there. As much as I'd like to engage in simple pleasantries, we've not got the time. It seems the metallic monster is stalled. Our best chance of survival is cooperation. Tell me, do you know the other people? And talk fast - we must hurry." Graham went straight to the point.

"Y-Yes." He eyeballs us briefly and tries to regain his composure somewhat unsuccessfully. He's most likely edge from what he just witnessed - a boy who sent thousand-pound metal balls flying like a baseball and a man whose arm was just cut off now steadily regenerating. One of those concerns I can appease. I lower my sword, still unsheathed just-in-case, but in a less provocative position. He seems to relax just a little bit, but still visibly appearing on edge. "I know the other three. We entered this room together. I spawned in room 96 and I met two of them and we found the third on our way down. We were going to check the rooms down in case of other survivors." The man spoke briskly with a light accent. He looks around at the three figures and signals them to come to him. They each reluctantly follow. "The rest - as you can tell - is what you see now."

The foreign man doesn't seem too much older than me, yet he's assuming responsibility for the group of his, even if he's quite nervous. It's commendable, I think, to keep a level and forward head when suddenly thrown into this situation. I have no idea what circumstances surround him, but I'm sure it wasn't easy dealing with all the pressures. Evidently, I haven't such luck or head. Fortunately, I've had a companion to help me. I imagine he's been that companion to these people.

The other figures come into view and come closer, staying extra vigilant to stay as far away from me, and specifically me, as possible. I'm the one with the superhuman strength gauntlet and the really sharp sonic sword, so I don't blame them. The foreign man forcefully relaxes his composure. "Mates, it's alright. They want to cooperate. We don't have much time. We're going to come up with some sort of strategy to fight the monster. In short, we need to cooperate. I know you're all scared and worried, but this is where it all counts. Remember what we went over. We need to do our utmost. It all counts now. I'm sure you don't want a knock on death's door prematurely."

The other figures nod timidly. I am given a clear look at them now. One of them is this big, bald man. He has an excellent build - akin to an athlete or a trainer. One prominent feature of his body is his arms - they are huge - unproportionally, even. They seem to be made of all muscle, and they bulge with power. The man himself, I guess, is in his mid-30s, still wildly impressive for his age. He's wearing tough, leather gear that somehow fits him without ripping, and in his hands, he's wielding a two-handed battleax made of some hybrid metal. Despite his imposing stature, his face, in contrast, wears a heavy and saddened, even hopeless, expression, seemingly adding years of worn age.

The other figure is another guy, a teenager, around my age. He's slender, medium-sized, and skinny, especially compared to the previous bulky guy, but not as thin as sticks. He has deep eyes and dark, messy hair with an upswept fringe. His face displays nervous determination, which compared to the burly man, is a huge difference just considering the circumstances.

The last figure is short. I really didn't notice it until it got really close, because it was covered in a black cloak that concealed much of the face and body. It arrived last. Once I am able to make out the specifics, I am taken aback. It's a girl, a little girl - I'm guessing around 10 years old.

I was already informed of this beforehand through the announcements but I brushed it off at the time. I never considered it deeply.

It's not only adults and teenagers among others who are trapped in this death dungeon.

There are children too.

Children.

What.

I suddenly feel an indescribable hatred for this place begin to well up in me. I suppress it and cool my head. I can't get angry and I can't lose focus. This is a crucial time that relies on our survival.

The child is covered not only because the cloak covered key features for identification, but because it also is way too big for her. It's an adult-sized cloak, and her wearing it makes it seem extra large. She slowly trudges to where we were. When I see her despaired face, I almost cry inside.

Her expression clearly reveals her feelings - hopelessness and despair. Her eyes are focused down, she's completely silent, and her head is drawn down and away, with a sad frown pasted on her face. For such a young child to feel and look so terrible...

It's unforgivable.

"Ahem," Graham clears his throat and speaks up once all the required members arrived. "We're going to briefly go over and strategize a plan. This is extremely crucial. I need to know everyone's strengths regarding combat and we can go from there." Suddenly, his tone drops to a stern and almost uncaring nature. "I mean this when I say it: We need to work together to our utmost to survive. If you don't want any casualties, then you better cooperate. I'm not going to take anything else. I'm not going to see another person die. I can care less concerning other matters irrelevant to this one focus."

Silence remains. Despite Graham's instructions, no one dares to speak up. Graham is signaling with his eyes for someone, anyone, to volunteer to speak, he himself also being halfway hesitant to encourage contribution. I try to open my mouth but nothing comes out. I clench my teeth. The silence persists an uncomfortable couple of seconds which feel like an eternity.

Finally, the foreign man, their 'leader', speaks up.

"I'm Archie. Umm... As you may already tell, I am proficient with the bow and arrow. I'm in the archery club in college. Was in high school too." He pauses and glances at the other members, who remain silent, and shortly thereafter resolves to continue. "The big guy over there is Barry. He works at a gym as a trainer and also does personal training as well. Unfortunately, he appears a bit down right now."

Barry looks away and broods silently. Archie continues awkwardly. "He's a good melee fighter. He's strong and can hold his ground in power." Barry doesn't react, simply staying silent and motionless, dread spelling his face.

"Alright, go on," Graham urges.

"Okay. Umm... The other one is Jonathan. He's a high school student. He can perform a few fire spells and an ice spell. He also has a blade, which isn't his forte, but he can use well enough."

Jonathan looks up resolutely, albeit nervously.

"The last one... We actually don't know much about her. She hasn't spoken yet since we found her alone in a strange dungeon room - room 89 I think it was. She's as far as I know just a little girl. It's best if we keep her protected."

"Thank you. I have a general idea of everyone's capabilities now," Graham says. "Another important question: is there anything important you've learned about this monster that we can use to our advantage? Any patterns or habits? Any other abilities?"

Archie looks at his other three companions. All except the little girl look back. Archie looks back at Graham.

"Nothing you haven't already figured out already," Archie says. "For our duration, it's been simply launching metal, except slightly faster progressively. That, and these bouts of rest to recollect lost metal supply." Archie looks up at the monster nervously and pitifully. "To be honest, that's the only reason why we've been able to survive this long, due to its somewhat simple, but no less deadly, pattern of behavior. I'm very very glad you guys showed up. We were dreadfully nearing our end."

Graham nods. He closes his eyes from time to time, crosses his arms and looks away and around, glancing back and forth briefly between the metal monster, who's almost recovered its lost metal, and the current party members. Finally, he looks up and stares at the ceiling - I coined this as his deep thinking pose.

Finally, he directly glances at the group.

"Okay. I've got it. This plan will depend on the efforts of everyone here. If your will to survive is low, then death is highly probable for all. Please understand this. I will not tolerate any falsehoods and half-efforts. I don't care if you're upset or nervous or whatever. With that being said, here's the plan."

We all lean in, all except the little girl, who remains unreactive and motionless. Graham then begins quickly explaining his plan.

"... Got that? Everyone knows their roles?"

We all nod affirmatively, at least, all of us that are engaged.

"Good," Graham continues. "Perfect timing. It looks about time to entertain our guest. It's go time."

We all direct our attention forwards. The metal beast regained all its metal, which glints and orbits around it mesmerizingly. I look up with disdain.

Time again for yet another game of death. It's us or it.