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Dungeon Ex Master, a Reverse Isekei Dungeon Apocalypse
17. Luck Isn’t Everything (Little Red)

17. Luck Isn’t Everything (Little Red)

“I’ll get it,” Molly said, stepping forward.

“No, don’t -” Rando reached out to stop her, but it was too late. Molly was already moving, her slender frame darting through the chaos with the agility of a practiced rogue.

Little Red watched her go, a mixture of grudging respect and dread tightening her chest as she watched her friend dart through the danger. Molly wasn’t the type to take orders lightly, but when it came to protecting the crew, she was fearless.

“Damn it, Mol,” Rando muttered, his voice laced with worry.

Big Red swung his axe in a wide arc, shattering another elemental. “Any day now, Rando!” he roared, his voice strained as he braced himself against the unrelenting onslaught. “These things aren’t staying down!”

“They’re being animated by something,” Little John growled as he pulverized yet another elemental with his hammer. The fragments scattered across the floor only to twitch and reform moments later. “It’s like -”

“It’s the room,” Little Red interrupted, her voice sharp with realization. “The room itself is powering them.”

“How?” Rando shouted, his fingers still fumbling with the mosaic.

Little Red’s mind raced as she watched the elementals surge forward, their glowing cores pulsing faintly with each movement. And then it clicked. “Did you ever go to the observatory at Griffith Park? You know that Tesla coil exhibit with the fluorescent lights?”

Rando blinked at her, incredulous. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“The altar!” Little Red snapped, pointing to the pedestal. “It’s acting like the coil - it’s sending energy to them, like a Tesla Coil!”

Rando’s eyes widened in understanding, but before he could respond, he noticed something that shifted his look into one of horror as fear flashed across his face. “Molly!” he shouted, his voice breaking.

The ceiling was now less than six feet from the ground, forcing Big Red and Little John to crouch awkwardly as they fought to keep the elementals at bay. Their weapons scraped against the ground, the hafts braced as makeshift barriers against the encroaching swarm. Molly was close to the missing piece, but she was being followed by a mass of elementals, and there was no way for her to get back before they got her.

“Molly, no!” Rando shouted, reaching out as if to pull her back, but it was too late.

Molly reached the wall, her hand closing around the mosaic piece. “Got it!” she yelled triumphantly, but her victory was short-lived. The elementals reached her, their jagged limbs clawing and slashing as they surrounded her. She swung her weapon desperately, but the sheer number was overwhelming.

“Molly!” Little Red screamed, her voice raw with desperation.

Molly’s gaze met hers, and for a brief moment, the rogue’s eyes softened. With a burst of determination, Molly hurled the mosaic piece toward the platform. “Heads up!” she screamed.

The piece flew toward the platform, spinning wildly. Rando reacted on instinct, his hand snapping out to grab it mid-air. His breath hitched as he caught it, his body trembling from the adrenaline. “Got it!” he shouted, slamming the piece into the mosaic.

The platform groaned, its runes flaring brighter than ever. The energy in the room shifted, a palpable tension building in the air.

The ceiling rumbled ominously, venom dripping faster as it loomed just four feet above the ground. Big Red and Little John, now hunched over, braced their weapons against the floor, barely able to hold back the advancing elementals.

“Molly’s down!” Little John bellowed, his voice strained as he pushed back against a relentless swarm. The rogue was barely visible beneath the writhing mass of stone creatures. Her struggles grew weaker as the weight of the elementals pressed her to the ground.

Why isn’t the trap disarming!? Little Red thought frantically. Her chest burned as panic clawed its way into her throat.

“We solved you, damn it!” she screamed in impotent fury at the dungeon. The runes on the platform flared again, but the elemental swarm continued to advance.

Little Red’s gaze darted between the collapsing ceiling and the swarming elementals. Her mind raced, searching for a solution, but the pressure was crushing. Her thoughts fragmented, her fingers brushing instinctively against the dice and cards in her pocket. They felt warm, almost alive, as if they were calling to her.

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It wasn’t rational. It wasn’t planned. But it was undeniable. She pulled the cards and dice free, her hands trembling as she stared at them. The Hands of Fate. The Hidden. The Lady in White. Their glow was subtle yet magnetic, their presence overwhelming. The skeletal hands etched into one of the cards seemed to move faintly under the flickering light, the subtle lines of runes swirling beneath her touch.

“What are you doing?” Rando shouted, his voice rising in alarm as he caught sight of the card, and the dice in her hand.

“I don’t know,” Little Red admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

A system message blinked into her vision, the text cold and sharp against the chaos around her.

What the hell? She thought in wonder at the hovering notification.

System Notification: Prismata Card Detected.

* Link Established.

* Activate Hands of Fate? Yes / No.

The world seemed to hold its breath as Little Red stared at the glowing prompt. Her heart pounded in her chest, her pulse syncing with the faint hum of the runic energy emanating from the card.

“Red!” Rando shouted. “We don’t have time for this!”

But time had already stopped for her. The world around her faded into a bokeh still frame, her focus narrowing on the card in her hand. The words glowed brighter, demanding an answer.

“Yes,” she whispered, barely aware she had spoken. Her mental command choosing the glowing Yes, and the card in her hand flared with blinding light - as the dice tumbled of their own accord toward the pedestal.

The energy surged through her, a rush so intense it made her gasp aloud.

System Notification: Hands of Fate Activated.

* Outcome Determination in Progress.

* Warning: “You’re playing dice with the universe. Better roll high.”

The dice floated mid-air, the spectral hands guiding them with deliberate precision. The first roll came quickly: 4 + 4 = 8.

The spectral hands adjusted their grip, nudging the dice. Their glow intensified as they evolved, transforming into 2d6s. The next roll came: 6 + 6 = 12.

The ceiling trembled, descending another few inches. Little Red’s breath hitched as the dice glowed brighter, shifting again - 2d8.

The spectral hands rolled once more. 8 + 8 = 16. The oppressive energy in the room thickened, pressing against their lungs.

The elementals faltered, their movements growing sluggish. Their glowing cores dimmed faintly, but it wasn’t enough. They still surged forward.

The dice evolved again, transforming into 2d20s. The final roll loomed, the spectral hands lifting the dice with an almost reverent grace. Little Red’s heart pounded in her chest as the air itself seemed to ripple with anticipation.

“STOP!” she screamed, her voice cutting through the chaos. She didn’t know if the dice would stop rolling, but the tension in the air felt like it would explode if they didn’t. She poured every ounce of willpower into the command, her mind willing the hands to obey.

The spectral hands froze mid-motion. The dice tumbled one last time, their glow dimming as they landed.

10.

The energy in the room reached a breaking point. The runes on the platform flared, the mosaic locking into place as a deafening crack split the air.

System Notification: Trap Neutralized.

* Threat Level Reduced: 50%.

* System Note: “See? Luck isn’t everything… but it helps.”

It seems like this is a thing, she thought as she saw another message.

The venomous stalactites disintegrated into vapor, the descending ceiling halting mid-crush. The elementals collapsed into piles of inert stone, their cores extinguished as the oppressive energy in the room dissipated.

Little Red sagged to the floor, the cards and dice falling from her trembling hands. But as relief washed over her, the far wall of the chamber erupted, chunks of stone spraying outward. Beyond the breach, a figure stepped into the light.

***

He moved with precision, his machete in one hand and a small, glowing object in the other. The device pulsed with a rhythmic glow, like a heartbeat, its surface alive with shifting patterns of light. Without hesitation, he hurled it into the room - a small, disco ball-like contraption that bounced and rolled unpredictably across the cracked stone floor, leaving faint trails of light in its wake. The device pulsed one final time before detonating with a thunderous crack, a blinding pulse of energy exploding outward in a rippling shockwave.

The chamber lit up in a kaleidoscope of dazzling hues, the force of the blast slamming into the stone walls and scattering debris. The light carved through the chaos like a blade, piercing the thick haze of oppressive magic that filled the air. The elementals froze mid-strike, their glowing cores flickering erratically before extinguishing entirely. Their jagged forms crumbled into sand, cascading to the ground in lifeless heaps.

The venom dripping from the stalactites vaporized with a sharp hiss, the descending ceiling grinding to an abrupt halt mere inches above Big Red and Little John’s heads. They remained crouched, their muscles taut, waiting for the crushing weight to resume. But the room had fallen silent. The relentless cacophony of grinding stone and magical energy was gone, replaced by a low hum of residual power dissipating into the ether.

Jack straightened, his silhouette framed by the lingering afterglow of the explosion. “Move!” he barked, his voice cutting through the stunned silence like a whip. His eyes locked onto Molly, her limp form partially buried beneath a pile of debris. He didn’t hesitate. Darting forward, he ducked beneath the jagged edge of the stalled ceiling, his machete’s runes faintly illuminating his path.

Reaching Molly, Jack dropped to one knee and brushed the rubble away with swift, calculated movements. His strong arms lifted her effortlessly, her unconscious form draping over his shoulder as he rose. The faint, shallow rise and fall of her chest was all the assurance he needed that she was still alive.

“Go!” he shouted, his tone leaving no room for argument.