As they raced through the collapsing dungeon, the roar of shattering stone chased them like a living thing. The walls crumbled in their wake, the ground trembling violently beneath their feet. Jagged cracks snaked up the crystalline walls, and the air seemed to split apart with an earsplitting screech. Dust and debris clouded their vision, forcing them to navigate through instinct and desperation.

The team sprinted with every ounce of strength they had left, their breaths ragged and hearts pounding. The narrow corridor behind them imploded with a deafening crunch, sealing their path with jagged rubble. A final heave of effort carried the last of them through the threshold just as the ground sealed itself shut, erasing the entrance in an unsettlingly smooth shift.

Jason, stumbling to a halt, wheeled around and stared, wide-eyed, at where the opening had been. What was left wasn’t just a pile of rubble -it was a seamless surface, like the ground had never been disturbed. The faint shimmer of dimensional energy lingered for a moment, then dissipated, leaving the air unnervingly quiet. It was as if the dungeon had never existed, as though reality itself had been stitched back together.

Jason hesitated, then reached back instinctively for the straps of his backpack. “Wait, wait, no-” His fingers grasped empty air where the pack should have been. He stumbled, tugging harder, feeling the straps pull taut for a moment before they suddenly gave way. He toppled backward, landing hard on the dirt with a grunt. He blinked in confusion, staring at the severed straps dangling limply in his hands.

The rest of the team turned to see him sitting there, dumbfounded. Jason’s gaze dropped to the cleanly sliced edges, the fabric cut as if by an impossibly sharp blade.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he muttered, his voice rising as realization set in. “Are you shitting me?!” He scrambled to his feet, holding up the ruined straps like they were evidence in a trial. “Son of a bitch! That was my -holy shit! I could have-” His words caught in his throat as his gaze flicked to his boots. The heel of his left boot was gone, sheared clean off. His stomach dropped. “Oh my God. I could’ve -my fucking foot could’ve- holy hell!”

“Sometimes,” Jack said coolly, his voice cutting through Jason’s panic like a blade, “it’s best to learn on your feet. Or what’s left of them.”

Jason’s head snapped toward him, his face a mix of disbelief and outrage. “You could’ve warned us!”

Jack shrugged, his expression unreadable. “Where’s the fun in that?”

Jason’s lips moved soundlessly for a moment, a string of curses evidently dying in his throat. His shoulders slumped in defeat as he let the severed straps fall to the ground. “Unbelievable,” he muttered, shaking his head. “Absolutely goddamn unbelievable.”

The team exchanged a mix of weary glances and half-smothered grins before Jack’s voice brought them back to focus. “We made it,” he said simply, scanning the group. He moved toward Big Red, who was slumped against a tree, his massive frame looking far less imposing with blood staining his side.

The medic knelt beside Big Red, her face pinched with worry as she assessed the wound. “He’s stable,” she murmured, though her tone carried a note of doubt.

Jack handed her a small jar, its dark contents sloshing faintly as he moved. “Use this,” he instructed. “Put it on the wound and wrap it tight. By tomorrow morning, he’ll be good as new.”

She took the jar, her expression skeptical. “What is it?” she asked, popping the lid open. The stench hit her like a hammer, and she recoiled, gagging. “Oh my God! What the hell is this? It smells like roadkill boiled in sewage!”

Jack grinned, unbothered by her reaction. “It’s a self-made balm,” he said, his tone almost amused. “It’s dirty, but it’ll do the job.”

Her jaw tightened, and she looked like she was on the verge of hurling the jar right back at him. “You seriously want me to put this on his wound?” she asked, her voice rising with incredulity.

Jack’s grin widened. “Just do it.”

The medic’s nostrils flared as she clearly fought back a string of colorful expletives. Her hand trembled slightly as she held the jar, debating whether to listen or let her frustration get the better of her. Before she could say anything, Little Red stepped up beside her, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“Just do it,” Little Red said softly. Her voice was calm but firm, her gaze steady. “I trust him.”

The medic sighed, her grip tightening on the jar as she braced herself to follow Jack’s instructions. “I trust him,” Little Red said again, her hand steady on the medic’s shoulder.

Madi hesitated for a moment, her brows furrowing as she stared at the foul-smelling balm. Her fingers itched to do something -anything- that would improve her chances of success. Her new Shadowmender abilities were still unfamiliar, but they thrummed beneath her skin, waiting for her to reach out. A thought struck her. What if she didn’t have to rely solely on this... sludge?

Taking a slow breath, Madi placed the jar down and closed her eyes. The world around her dimmed, the light receding as her Shadowmender powers awakened. The shadows beneath the nearby trees stretched and shifted unnaturally, coiling toward her like living things.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

She focused, drawing on her Veil of Shadows ability, but tempered it with precision. Dark tendrils of energy rose around her, swirling like smoke and licking at her hands. Madi dipped her fingers into the balm, the shadows weaving into the mixture as they clung to her fingertips. The vile substance darkened further, shimmering faintly with an otherworldly hue as the shadow energy infused it.

“This better work,” she muttered, her voice barely audible over the hum of her power. She turned to Big Red, who lay pale and still against the tree. His chest rose and fell in shallow breaths, and the sight made her jaw tighten.

Steeling herself, Madi smeared the enhanced balm across the wound, her hands steady despite the prickling unease in her chest. As soon as the mixture touched Big Red’s skin, it reacted. The balm glowed faintly, the infused shadows flaring to life. They rippled outward, engulfing Big Red’s body in a swirling veil of darkness.

The shadows moved like liquid, flowing and shifting, their tendrils probing the wound with meticulous care. Madi’s breath hitched as she watched the tendrils thread themselves into the torn flesh, stitching it together with an eerie precision. The jagged edges of the wound smoothed as if an invisible seamstress were working beneath the surface, guided by some unseen force.

The veil grew brighter for a moment, a burst of energy coursing through Big Red’s body. His entire frame tensed, then relaxed as the healing power reached its crescendo. The darkness faded, retreating back into Madi’s hands, leaving only smooth, unblemished skin where the injury had been.

Madi stepped back, her breath caught in her throat. Big Red stirred, blinking blearily as color returned to his face. He groaned softly, then sat up, flexing his arms as if testing his mobility. The massive man glanced down at his side, his brows furrowing as he patted the spot where the wound had been.

“What the hell?” Big Red muttered, his voice hoarse but steady. He looked up at Madi, his expression a mixture of confusion and awe. “I feel... fine. Better than fine.”

Madi’s lips parted, her chest tightening with disbelief. Her eyes shimmered faintly with residual energy, the glow of her power reflected in her wide gaze. “It worked,” she whispered to herself. She glanced down at her hands, the faint traces of shadow still curling around her fingers. The sensation was intoxicating, yet humbling.

A deep sense of gratitude welled within her, unbidden but undeniable. Her gaze flicked to Jack, who stood a few paces away, watching with an inscrutable expression. Madi’s lips moved silently as she whispered, “Thank you.”

Big Red rolled his shoulders, the motion smooth and effortless. “It’s like I wasn’t even hit,” he said, his voice tinged with amazement. “What was that?”

Madi swallowed hard, still coming to terms with what she’d done. “Something new,” she said softly, her voice steady despite the lingering awe in her tone. “Something... I didn’t know I could do.”

Little Red’s hand squeezed her shoulder lightly, grounding her. Madi exhaled and gave a small nod, her focus shifting back to the present.

Jack gave a subtle nod of approval, then turned, his focus already shifting away from the group.

He started toward the woods, his steps purposeful but unhurried. The dim light filtering through the trees caught on the edges of his fractured cloak, making it seem almost alive as it fluttered behind him.

“Wait,” he heard, Little Red’s her voice carrying just enough urgency to stop him mid-step. He paused, glancing over his shoulder as she jogged to catch up. She reached out, her fingers brushing his elbow before she pulled back, hesitating.

Jack turned fully, his sharp eyes locking onto hers. “What is it?” he asked, his tone even, though a hint of curiosity flickered in his gaze.

She shifted, the weight of the moment settling between them. Her fiery hair clung to her sweat-dampened skin, and for a brief moment, she looked younger, more vulnerable than the fierce warrior she so often projected.

“I just…” She hesitated, the words catching in her throat. Then she squared her shoulders, forcing herself to meet his gaze. “Thank you,” she said, her voice quieter now. “For getting us out. For everything.”

Jack’s expression softened, the hard edges of his demeanor smoothing slightly. “You don’t have to thank me,” he said simply. “I’m not in this for gratitude.”

“Maybe not,” she replied, her lips quirking into a faint smile. “But you deserve it anyway.”

He studied her for a moment longer, then gave a small nod. “Get some rest, Red,” he said, his voice low but steady. “We’re not done yet.”

With that, he turned to leave.

“Where are you going?” Little Red asked, her voice steady but carrying an undercurrent of hesitation.

Jack paused, turning his head slightly to glance at her. His gaze was sharp but softened just enough to make her feel, real. “I have work to do,” he replied simply. His tone was calm, resolute -leaving no room for argument. But his eyes flicked over her, assessing, and then he gave her a subtle nod. “You got this. You’re good.”

The words were simple, but they carried weight. Little Red straightened unconsciously, meeting his gaze with a flicker of determination in her own. “Thank you,” she said, her voice quieter now. “We wouldn’t have… I mean, I don’t know what would’ve-”

“I do,” Jack interrupted, his tone firm but not unkind. He tilted his head toward the rest of the group, his expression unreadable. “You’re good. Take care of your men. I’m guessing some of them are going to be reevaluating their life choices after this.”

She snorted softly, a wry smile tugging at her lips. “Yeah,” she admitted. “Dungeon diving isn’t going to be for everyone.” Her gaze flicked briefly to the others, still shaken and worn from the ordeal.

Jack nodded once, as if he’d already expected her answer. “I hope some of you choose to continue,” he said. “Now that you know what to do. The world’s going to need more like you.”

Little Red hesitated, her brow furrowing. “But… where are you going?”

Jack’s expression shifted slightly, the corners of his mouth pulling into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “I have people to save,” he said simply. His voice was even, but there was a note of something deeper -an ache buried beneath the words that she couldn’t quite place.

She opened her mouth, then closed it again, searching for the right thing to say. “How do we get in contact?” she asked after a beat. “In case-”

Jack raised an eyebrow, waiting.

“In case we need help,” she clarified, her voice soft. Then, with a flicker of boldness, she added, “Or in case you need help.”

Jack’s lips quirked into his usual smirk at that, a touch of humor flashing in his eyes. “If I need help,” he said, “I’ll find you. And if you need help…” He paused, his gaze steady as he finished, “I’ll find you.”

There was something in the way he said it -a certainty, an unshakable confidence- that left no room for doubt.

Before she could reply, he turned and strode into the woods, his fractured cloak rippling behind him like a living shadow. The darkness seemed to welcome him, folding around his form as though it had been waiting for his return. Little Red watched him go, her eyes tracking his movements until they disappeared entirely. It was like watching a ghost fade into the night.