Little Red, snapping out of her stunned trance, scrambled to her feet and reached for the dice and cards scattered near the glowing mosaic. Their faint warmth still lingered, as though the energy of the activation hadn’t fully dissipated. She shoved them into her pocket and turned toward the exit. “You heard him! Move it!” she shouted, her voice raw but commanding.

The crew didn’t need to be told twice. Big Red and Little John shoved past the remaining piles of inert stone, their massive weapons still raised defensively as they kept a wary eye on the ceiling. Rando trailed behind them, clutching his toolkit to his chest as if it were a lifeline.

Jack followed close behind, Molly’s limp form balanced across his shoulder. The groaning of the ceiling began again, the sound vibrating through the chamber like a death knell. The floor trembled beneath their feet as the remaining energy in the room surged one final time.

They crossed the threshold just as the ceiling gave a last, thunderous groan and slammed into the floor with a deafening crash. Dust and debris billowed outward, the force of the impact shaking the walls of the newly revealed passage.

The group stumbled into the corridor beyond, their breaths coming in ragged gasps. The air here was cooler, less oppressive, but it carried an unsettling stillness that set their nerves on edge. The faint glow of runes along the walls cast eerie shadows that danced with every flicker of their movements.

Jack knelt and gently lowered Molly to the ground, his movements deliberate and careful. He checked her pulse, his fingers brushing against the faintly glowing veins on her wrist. Satisfied, he leaned back on his heels and let out a low breath. His sharp eyes scanned the crew, his expression a mix of frustration and grudging respect.

Madi hurried forward and took over caring for Molly with a grateful look cast Jack’s way.

“You’re lucky I showed up when I did,” he said, his voice even but edged with reproach. “That room wasn’t going to let you walk out alive.”

Big Red grunted, his massive frame leaning against the wall as he wiped sweat and grime from his face. “Yeah, no kidding,” he muttered, his tone laced with both relief and residual adrenaline. “But who the hell are you?”

Jack didn’t immediately respond. His attention remained on Molly, whose breathing had steadied - the faint glow to her wrists fading like embers cooling after a fire. Finally, he rose, his machete still humming faintly at his side. The runes on the blade pulsed softly, matching the low vibrations still emanating from the walls. “Let’s just say I’m the guy who’s got experience with places like this,” he replied, his voice clipped, each word precise. “Now, if you’re done asking questions, I suggest we figure out what’s waiting for us ahead. This dungeon isn’t done with us yet.”

“Listen, Jack, just who do you think you are?” Brick stepped forward, his bulk casting a long shadow in the faint glow of the corridor. His hand rested on his handgun, his posture menacing.

Jack didn’t flinch. His gaze locked onto Brick, cold and steady, devoid of fear. For a moment, the air between them thickened, an unspoken challenge hanging in the silence.

“Good guess,” Jack said flatly, his tone as sharp as his machete’s edge.

Little Red was already moving, stepping between the two men before the tension snapped. “Whoa, whoa. Stand down, boys,” she said, her hands raised in a placating gesture. Her voice carried an edge of command, one that brooked no argument. She turned her sharp gaze to Brick. “I said stand down, Brick. Or you’re being docked your cut.”

Brick’s jaw clenched, his frustration palpable. But after a beat, he stepped back, muttering something under his breath. The shadow of his hand lingered near his weapon for a moment longer before he turned and stalked away. Little Red tracked him with her eyes, her expression unreadable as Brick joined Jason, their low conversation laced with occasional glances at Jack.

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Little Red exchanged a glance with Big Red, who gave her a subtle nod. She straightened and took a breath. “Alright,” she said, her voice firm despite the tremor that still clung to her limbs. “Rando, stay close. Big Red, take point. Jack…” She hesitated, her sharp eyes studying him. Then, with a reluctant nod, she added, “You’ve got lead.”

Jack’s lips twitched into a faint smirk, but he didn’t comment. He turned his attention to Little Red, whose posture stiffened under his scrutiny. “I saw you pick up something in the room before evacuating,” he said, his tone almost conversational. “What was it?” Though his voice was casual, his gaze was unrelenting. It wasn’t a question - it was a test.

Little Red didn’t hesitate. She reached into her pocket and withdrew the cards, fanning them out in her hand. The light from the runes in the corridor glinted off their edges, highlighting the faintly glowing inscriptions etched into their surfaces. Jack raised an eyebrow but said nothing, waiting. After a beat, she pulled out the dice as well, holding them in her outstretched palm.

“I was wondering where those went,” Jack said, his voice dry as his fingers reached out to brush against them.

“Hey, what’re you doing, Red?” Rando snapped, his voice tight. His eyes locked onto the dice and Jack’s reaching hand with a mix of suspicion and panic.

Little Red hesitated, the weight of the moment pressing on her. But then, as if on instinct, she tipped the dice into Jack’s open palm and handed him the three cards.

“Son of a bitch, Jess,” Rando blurted, stepping forward with an outstretched hand, his intent clear. “You can’t just -”

But Jack moved faster. With practiced ease, he pocketed the dice in one smooth motion while simultaneously grabbing Rando’s wrist. In a blink, Rando found himself in a one-handed submission hold, his arm twisted back at an agonizing angle. His breath hitched, and his knees buckled as Jack maintained firm but controlled pressure, forcing him to rise onto his toes.

“Let go, man! I’m sorry, okay? Let go!” Rando yelped, his voice cracking with pain.

The crew tensed, hands instinctively reaching for weapons, but no one made a move. The air was thick with uncertainty, the unspoken question hanging over them: what would happen if they pushed this man too far?

Little Red blinked, her hand already gripping her machete’s hilt before she realized what she was doing. She snapped to attention, her blade drawn in a fluid motion. The steel kissed Jack’s neck, the edge pressing just enough to be a warning.

“Let. Him. Go,” she said, her voice like tempered steel.

Jack froze, his gaze flicking to her without a hint of alarm. He studied her, then the crew, each one gripping their weapons with white-knuckled hands. Finally, with a faint sigh, he released Rando and stepped back, his hands raised in a gesture of peace.

“So, this is how you treat someone who just saved your asses?” Jack’s tone was calm, almost conversational, but his words carried an edge that made the crew flinch. “Good to know.”

The subtle warning in his voice sent a ripple of unease through the group. One by one, they realized the same thing - if they crossed this man, none of them would leave this dungeon alive.

The tense silence was broken by a low groan. All eyes turned to Molly, who stirred and sat up with Madi’s help. Her head lolled for a moment before she blinked at the scene before her, confusion plain on her face.

“What’s going on?” Molly asked, her voice hoarse. Her gaze landed on Jack, and a faint smile tugged at her lips. “And who’s this tall, dark, and handsome drink of water?”

Little Red let out an unexpected laugh, the tension in the room dissolving like mist under sunlight. The crew exchanged uneasy glances, then began to relax, their hands slipping away from their weapons.

Little Red gave Jack a once-over before extending her hand. “Let’s start over,” she said, her tone lighter but still edged with authority. “My name is Jessica, but my friends call me Little Red - for obvious reasons,” she added, gesturing to her fiery hair.

Jack smiled, his expression genuine for the first time. “Jack. My friends call me… Jack.”

One by one, Jessica introduced the rest of the group: Big Red, whose nod carried a hint of approval; Little John, who towered over Jack but offered a wary smile; Brick, who remained sullen and distant; Jason, who gazed at Jack with barely concealed awe; Madi, still tending to Molly; and Rando, who nursed his wrist while glaring daggers at Jack.

“Alright, Jack,” Jessica said, crossing her arms. “Now that introductions are in order, mind telling me what you’re doing here?”

“Besides the obvious?” Jack quipped, his tone teasing.

She nodded, unfazed. “Yes, besides the obvious.”

“I’m here to close this dungeon,” Jack declared matter-of-factly.