Zeni tiptoed gingerly into the shadowy depths of the dungeon, her heart thudding wildly against her ribcage as she ventured forth into the realm of the unknown. The air was thick and musty, as if it hadn't seen the light of day for a hundred lifetimes. The walls were bedecked with elaborate hieroglyphs and portrayals of gods and mythical beasts, their hues dulled by time, yet still exuding an aura of vitality and might.

As she delved deeper into the dungeon's bowels, Zeni was absolutely gobsmacked by the sheer enormity of the place. She halted her progress to study a particularly fascinating bas-relief depicting a ferocious battle between a legion of humans and an immense, serpent-like creature. One could almost hear the clash of swords and the desperate cries of battle echoing through the ages, and Zeni couldn't help but wonder if the artists had captured a true event or merely indulged in some artistic license to liven up the dungeon's decor.

As she pondered this, a wry grin tugged at the corner of her mouth. She could just imagine the ancient artisans gathered around, debating the merits of adding just one more tentacle or an extra set of fangs to the fearsome monster.

"Oh, come on, Ptahmes," one might say, rolling his eyes. "Everyone knows that serpents have at least six rows of teeth. Otherwise, how would they eat all those pesky heroes?"

The dungeon seemed to stretch on endlessly, and Zeni felt as if she were navigating a labyrinth of interconnected chambers and passageways. She took care to study the patterns of the walls and floor, noting any signs that might indicate the presence of traps or hidden dangers.

As Zeni tiptoed through the dimly lit passage, shadows pooling around her like spilled ink, she had a clear feeling of foreboding. The walls seemed to close in on her, as though they held a secret that they were just dying to share. Or maybe that was just the mildew.

Rounding a corner, the softest of clicks reached her ears, as if carried on the wings of a gossiping moth. In a heartbeat, a barrage of razor-sharp, stone-tipped spears burst from the walls, zipping through the air like vengeful arrows with a grudge to settle.

By some divine stroke of luck, Zeni narrowly avoided the lethal embrace of the spears, her breath catching in her throat as the deadly projectiles missed her by mere whiskers. Her heart pounded like she’d had too much caffeine, a stark reminder of the perilous nature of this deadly place she'd so brazenly entered.

With a mental note about her momentary lapse in vigilance, Zeni studied the trap's inner workings, her eyes keenly observing the intricate dance of doom that unfolded before her. Like an ancient, deadly dance, the spears emerged in a sinuous pattern, their movements daring anyone who may or may not have considered themselves an idiot to try their luck.

Summoning her courage and hoping the gods of this world were in a good mood, Zeni measured her breaths and readied her body. With the precision of a master choreographer—or at least a decent amateur—she timed her movements, leaping and twisting through the gauntlet of spears like a desert swallow that had signed up for a gymnastics class on a whim.

Miraculously, she emerged on the far side of the trap, unscathed by the life-threatening performance that had threatened to turn her into a Zeni-kebab. Her heart still pounding, she let out a triumphant laugh that sounded more like a relieved snort.

"By the gods, that was... exhilarating!" she gasped, her eyes shining with the fire of triumph. And possibly a touch of indigestion.

Then, realizing what she’d said aloud, she smiled to herself, proud that she was starting to sound like such a local.

As Zeni continued her exploration, she marveled at the sheer scale and complexity of the dungeon. There were rooms filled with lifelike statues of warriors and scholars, their faces etched with ambivalent expressions. Some were so old as to have crumbled, while others looked nearly fresh. This was curious to her, and she wasn’t sure why they seemed to nearly exist in different eras. However, she reasoned it was likely something she’d either learn, or have to be satisfied with remaining a mystery and so continued on.

In the room beyond, she discovered a chamber containing a massive, ornate scale, one side weighed down by a feather, its counterpart empty and waiting. The significance of the scale, and what it might represent within the dungeon, intrigued her.

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She pressed a thumb down on the bare side of the scale and immediately heard a rustling from above. Anxiety gripped her and she deftly dodged just as a plume of flame shot out at her from the ceiling. She rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding being singed—or worse, as the gout of fiery magic suddenly dispersed in a puff of vapor.

Zeni just lay on the floor for a moment, staring at the hole in the ceiling for a while.

“Sheesh,” she said aloud. “What in the hell was that? A magic trap?”

She slowly rose, dusting herself off and double-checking to make sure her hair was still intact, and not, you know, a pile of ash. It seemed fine, but her scalp felt a little sunburned.

“If I’m going to have to be mindful of stuff like that as well, I’m going to be in a world of trouble. That was way too close.”

She gave herself another quick pass with her hands, and, finding no issues, turned to glare at the scale.

“Nice try,” she said sourly. “But better luck next time, ya big jerk.”

She heard another grinding noise, and panic gripped her. She dove to the side again, only to watch as the hatch in the ceiling closed itself again. She chuckled nervously on the ground.

“Ah, of course,” she said shakily. “All according to plan.”

Then she picked herself up once more and made her way out of the room, promising that she wouldn’t mess with any more objects unless she knew exactly what they were.

Eventually, Zeni arrived at a large central chamber, her breath catching in her throat at the sight that greeted her. The room was cavernous—no, more than that. It was monstrous. With soaring ceilings and enormous, intricately carved doorways. The sheer size and majesty of the chamber made her feel small and insignificant, a mere speck of dust in a big bowl of nothing.

At the heart of the chamber stood an imposing, complex puzzle. A series of concentric circles, each adorned with symbols and markings, surrounded a central pedestal. Zeni reasoned that the solution to the puzzle would likely reveal the way to open the massive doors, but the meaning of the symbols eluded her. They didn’t make much sense, and what was worse, they were hard to see! Most of them were high up at the top curve of their circles and even when she squinted, she couldn’t really make them out well enough to know what they did. She would need more time and information to decipher their purpose.

She spent some time moving around the huge space, taking note of the peculiarities present. Along one wall were dozens of bookshelves—or rather, she noticed, scroll shelves. Books, in the traditional sense, didn’t seem to have been invented yet here—which was a shame, she thought. Book design really had a leg up on scrolls, especially when it came to returning them after you were done. She had to imagine you had to plan around a scroll, knowing it would take you an additional ten minutes to roll it all back up once you were done. And man, oh man. If you didn’t finish? How were you supposed to mark your progress? A scroll mark? That seemed unreasonable. Zeni endeavored to someday get to the bottom of that particular question. However, that day would not be today.

Along another wall was a large engraving. It depicted what she was starting to remember was called hieroglyphics—pictures that represented an alphabet. But still, even though she only had a passing familiarity with that form of writing, the symbols used in this engraving were very foreign. She had to imagine that while there was a similarity to her world’s hieroglyphics, they were probably a lot different.

As she continued to explore the chamber, Zeni stumbled upon a sight that made her heart skip a beat. She froze, not sure if she was seeing correctly.

There, lying on a stone slab, was a massive figure encased in ornate armor. The armor was adorned with intricate patterns and glyphs, and the individual's head was fully concealed by a helmet. At first, Zeni thought she had discovered a long-dead warrior, a relic of the past.

“Sorry to disturb your…tomb?” She said aloud, not sure if that’s what this was at all. Were dungeons also resting places? She’d have to check. Perhaps she’d ask Neith once she got far enough that she felt she could go back.

However, as she approached the figure, she noticed the faint rise and fall of its chest. The realization struck her like a bolt of lightning – this person was not dead, but merely sleeping. Zeni could only imagine what type of yahoo would fall asleep inside a dungeon. It seemed unnecessarily dangerous. To be fair, she had only encountered traps so far—not the monsters she’d been concerned about—and she had already passed those. She supposed that staying in one spot where one knew no traps were was likely perfectly safe. Still, the make of such a person definitely meant that they were likely unbothered by such occurrences anyway.

Curious, Zeni slinked forward. The person—she thought that it might have been a man considering there wasn’t much room for breasts in the armor—didn’t stir other than the very subtle flutter of their torso in rest. They didn’t make a sound, and Zeni thought that that was likely a good thing, considering snoring might alert others to their presence. Truth be told, she’d had no idea this individual was even there until just before she’d practically slammed in them. She still couldn’t wrap her mind around how someone might feel comfortable falling asleep here, especially in such an open area. Surely they had to be concerned, at least a little, about running afoul of something nefarious?

Or maybe they’re injured? Zeni thought to herself.

If that was the case, then perhaps she should try to help whoever this was? She’d never forgive herself if she just allowed someone mortally wounded to die right in front of her if there was possibly something she could do to help. So, endeavoring to ensure that her conscience was not bruised, Zeni reached out a tentative hand to touch the armored figure, hoping to rouse them from their slumber.

The moment Zeni's fingers brushed against the figure's armor, the individual jerked awake with startling speed. In an instant, their hand closed around her throat, lifting her effortlessly into the air.

Uh-oh, Zeni thought. So…not injured.