The crystalline structure at the center of the chamber pulsed with an unnatural light, each flare casting jagged, shifting shadows across the cavern walls. It wasn’t the core itself that weighed on Jack, but the moment - thick with unspoken meaning and decisions yet to be made. He exhaled slowly, his breath barely audible over the hum of the dungeon’s energy. His fingers brushed the edge of his fractured cloak, a habitual gesture he didn’t even notice anymore, before he finally broke the silence.

Despite the core’s hypnotic glow, Jessica found her attention straying to Jack. He stood with one hand resting lightly on his machete, his other brushing absently against his fractured cloak, the gesture as unconscious as breathing. There was something about him, the way he carried himself - a weight, a calm undercurrent of control - that kept her gaze lingering longer than she intended.

“Hold up,” Jack said abruptly, his voice slicing through the quiet. The casual authority in his tone made Jessica’s breath hitch. He wasn’t looking at her, not yet, his gaze still fixed on the core. But the words hung heavy in the charged air between them.

Her heart skipped, then raced. Hold up? Her mind flicked through a dozen possibilities, none of them grounded in logic. Was he about to say something personal? Confess something? Ask for something? A ridiculous flutter of anticipation sparked in her chest, unbidden and unwelcome. Get a grip, Jess. You’re in the middle of a dungeon, not a rom-com.

She cleared her throat, trying to keep her voice steady. “What?” she asked, her tone sharper than she intended, an attempt to mask the nervous energy swirling in her chest.

Jack turned then, his expression unreadable. His eyes, sharp and piercing, locked onto hers. “Before we go any further, there’s something I need to do,” he said.

The moment stretched between them, the hum of the dungeon energy seeming to fade as Jessica’s focus narrowed to the man in front of her. His words were practical, straightforward, but the way he said them left room for interpretation. Her mind ran wild again. What does he mean? Something he needs to do?

Jessica crossed her arms, her machete slung at her side. She tilted her chin, forcing herself to appear unaffected. “This is sudden,” she said, her voice firm but laced with curiosity. “What are you getting at, Jack?”

Instead of answering directly, Jack reached into the folds of his cloak, his movements deliberate and slow. Her pulse quickened, the anticipation mounting. What was he about to pull out? His hand disappeared into the dark fabric, rummaging for a moment before emerging with a pair of gleaming, curved blades. The weapons caught the light of the core, the runed etchings across their elegant crescents shimmering faintly in the dim glow.

Jessica’s lips parted slightly, surprise flickering across her face. The tension in her chest shifted, replaced by a flicker of awe as she took in the weapons’ beauty. She blinked, momentarily caught off guard. This wasn’t at all what she had been expecting. “You’re giving me weapons?” she asked, suspicion mingling with confusion. “You don’t strike me as the generous type.”

Jack’s lips twitched into a faint smirk, and he placed a hand over his chest in mock offense. “Ouch. That hurts, Red. I’m a giver, I’ll have you know.”

Her brow arched skeptically, but before she could retort, his smirk softened, replaced by something more sincere. “I’ve been thinking about this for a while now,” he admitted. “I wasn’t sure until I saw you back there, taking charge.”

Jessica’s breath caught again. His words were simple, but there was weight behind them, a quiet acknowledgment that stirred something warm in her chest. She tried to ignore it, focusing instead on the blades he held out to her.

“Here,” he said simply, his voice quiet but firm. “A gift. Freely given.”

“Why me?” she asked, her voice quieter now, tinged with curiosity and something she didn’t want to name.

Jack met her gaze, his expression steady. “Because I’ve been watching you,” he said plainly. “All of you, really. But you…” His eyes narrowed slightly, studying her with an intensity that made her shift under his scrutiny. “You’ve got something. Instincts. Drive. Guts. And if we’re going to make it out of here, you’re going to need weapons that match you.”

Jessica hesitated, the compliment catching her off guard. She wasn’t used to being noticed like this, not in a way that felt… genuine. Her fingers twitched as she stared at the weapons. “What are they?” she asked, her voice softer now.

Jack’s smirk returned, faint but genuine. “Fae’Ri Moon Blades,” he said. “From a Fae dungeon. Not just any Fae dungeon, either. These came from one of the big ones. Those places don’t give up their treasures easily.”

Her breath hitched again as she traced the blades with her eyes. The leather-wrapped ivory hilts fit snugly in her palms when she reached out to take them, and the weight was perfectly balanced, almost impossibly so. As she shifted them experimentally, she felt the air parting along their edges, sharp enough to cut sound itself.

She looked back at Jack, her brows furrowing. “Fae dungeons, huh? Just who are you, Jack?” she asked, her tone light but her curiosity genuine.

For a moment, his smirk faltered. Something flickered in his expression - hesitation, conflict, maybe regret - but it passed quickly. “How about this?” he said, deflecting. “I’ll tell you - when we make it out of here.”

Jessica studied him for a beat longer, her fiery hair catching the light as she tilted her head. Finally, she nodded, her lips curving into a small smile. “When we make it out,” she echoed, her emphasis deliberate.

“Deal,” Jack said, his voice softer now. His gaze lingered on her, and for a moment, the oppressive weight of the dungeon seemed to recede, leaving only the two of them in the glow of the core.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

The weapons felt alive in her hands, their warmth radiating through her skin. She turned them over, admiring the intricate filigree etched into the hilts and the way the full tang of the metal extended into twin moonstone gems at the pommels. The stones glinted faintly, their surfaces pierced by the sharp, horn-like extensions of the blades themselves.

“Why me?” she asked again, her voice quieter this time, almost hesitant.

Jack’s expression turned serious. “Because you can handle them,” he said simply. “And because you’ll need them. These blades aren’t just tools - they’re a challenge. They’ll push you, force you to grow. But they’ll only work for you if you stay in control. Don’t let your emotions rule you. Use them. Focus them. That’s how you win.”

Jessica swallowed hard, his words settling over her like a mantle of responsibility. Her grip tightened on the hilts, and she nodded slowly. “Understood,” she said, her voice steady.

Jack nodded, satisfied. He turned his attention back to the crystalline core at the center of the chamber, its light pulsing like a heartbeat. The energy in the room seemed to shift, the air growing heavier as they both prepared for what was to come.

“Jack,” Jessica said hesitantly, drawing his gaze back to her. She met his eyes, her expression sincere. “Thank you.”

Jack’s smirk returned, faint but genuine. “I think you’ll be a sight to see with those,” he said, his tone light. “Just don’t cut me in half when you’re showing off.”

Jessica rolled her eyes, but a small smile tugged at her lips. “No promises,” she replied, the warmth in her voice cutting through the tension.

Jack chuckled softly, the moment of levity grounding them both as the core pulsed brighter, as if sensing their resolve.

The crystalline monolith towered over the chamber, its fractured surface gleaming with a mesmerizing, otherworldly light. It wasn’t just a visual phenomenon - it radiated a presence, a palpable force that seemed to press against their skin and stir the air in their lungs. Jack approached it cautiously, his machete sheathed at his side, his movements deliberate and measured, like a predator circling something far more dangerous than itself.

Little Red watched from a few steps back, her new blades resting at her sides, their crescent edges catching and refracting the eerie glow. Her fingers twitched unconsciously against the hilts, her grip tightening as if in response to the charged atmosphere. Her instincts screamed at her, an almost primal warning that something here was alive, aware. The core wasn’t just the dungeon’s heart - it was the dungeon itself.

“It’s not solid,” Jack murmured, his voice low, more to himself than to her.

“What do you mean?” Little Red asked, her tone barely above a whisper. The pulsing energy that filled the chamber seemed to amplify her words, making them reverberate unnaturally in the enclosed space. She swallowed hard, her throat dry as the weight of the moment pressed down on her.

Jack stepped closer, his hand hovering inches from the crystal’s surface. The light shifted and refracted across his fingers, casting intricate patterns on the walls and floor like ripples on water. The air around the monolith grew heavier, thicker with a power that felt ancient and alive, like the breath of something vast and unknowable.

“It’s a projection,” he said after a moment, his voice tinged with fascination and unease. “The real core is inside.”

Little Red frowned, her unease deepening. “What does that even mean?” she asked, taking a hesitant step closer. The energy around the monolith seemed to shift in response to her movement, a faint hum growing louder in her ears.

Jack didn’t answer immediately. His focus remained locked on the crystal, his brow furrowed in concentration. Then, with a deep breath, he pressed his hand forward. His fingers met resistance, the surface of the crystal rippling like liquid under his touch. The air vibrated around them, a low, resonant tone that seemed to resonate with the very marrow of their bones.

“Jack-” Little Red started, a note of alarm in her voice. But he silenced her with a sharp gesture, his free hand slicing through the air in a motion that was both commanding and reassuring.

His arm sank deeper into the crystal, the rippling surface wrapping around him like living tendrils of light. It wasn’t just light - it was energy, raw and unbridled, thrumming with a power that made the hairs on the back of Little Red’s neck stand on end. The glow crawled up his wrist and forearm, a living thing that pulsed and writhed as if trying to resist him.

Jack gritted his teeth, his jaw tightening as he pushed further. The resistance grew with every inch, the tendrils of light clinging to him with almost physical force. The veins in his arm stood out, his muscles taut with effort as he forced his way into the heart of the crystal.

“Damn it,” he muttered under his breath, his voice strained but resolute. The light flared, brighter and more intense with every movement, the monolith vibrating like a plucked string.

Then, his fingers closed around something solid.

The chamber seemed to hold its breath. The light surged, blinding in its intensity, and the entire room shuddered violently, the ground beneath their feet trembling as if the dungeon itself were protesting his intrusion. Jack’s face contorted with effort, his body rigid as he yanked his arm back, fighting against the crystal’s desperate pull.

With a final, guttural cry, he tore his arm free. The crystal exploded outward, shards of light and energy cascading around them like a shattered star. The fragments rained down, dissolving into motes of luminescence before they could touch the ground.

In his hand, Jack held a small, black orb. Its surface was smooth and unassuming, but beneath its dark exterior pulsed faint golden veins, like the fragile threads of a spider’s web. The veins glowed rhythmically, in perfect sync with the dungeon’s eerie hum.

Little Red stared at the orb, her breath catching in her throat. “That’s it?” she whispered, her voice trembling with a mixture of awe and disbelief.

Jack nodded, his gaze fixed on the artifact in his hand. “This is it,” he said quietly, his tone heavy. “The true core. The heart of the dungeon.”

He turned the orb over in his hand, his eyes narrowing as he studied it. The pulsing light within seemed to respond to his touch, its rhythm quickening slightly as if aware of its captor. “This little thing controls everything - the traps, the creatures, the energy. It’s all tied to this.”

Little Red’s mind raced, the weight of his words sinking in. She could feel the core’s power, even from where she stood. It wasn’t just an object - it was alive, in its own alien way. It watched, waited, and judged.

“And now?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Jack’s expression darkened, a shadow crossing his features. “Now,” he said, his voice grim, “we make a choice.”

The air in the chamber seemed to grow heavier, the hum of the dungeon intensifying as if it sensed their hesitation. Little Red’s eyes flicked to Jack’s face, searching for answers, for guidance. But his gaze remained locked on the core, his thoughts inscrutable.

“What kind of choice?” she asked, her voice steadier now, though the tension in her chest hadn’t lessened.

Jack glanced at her, his eyes sharp and calculating. “We destroy it,” he said simply. “Or we don’t. But either way, this dungeon’s not going to give up without a fight.”

Little Red’s fingers tightened around the hilts of her blades, her resolve hardening. “Then we fight,” she said, the fire in her voice matching the fire in her eyes.

Jack’s lips quirked into a faint smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Good answer,” he said. “Let’s see if the dungeon agrees.”

The core pulsed brighter, its golden veins flaring as if in defiance. The chamber around them began to shift, the walls rippling and contorting like a living thing. The dungeon wasn’t going to let them go without a battle - and it was just getting started.