“A-ha!” Maris shouted as we emerged from the thick jungle, the old battered fort rising before us like a forgotten sentinel. Its weathered stone walls stood incongruously in the middle of the dense forest, as if nature had reclaimed everything around it but spared this relic. The sight didn’t make sense—who would build a fort in such an isolated place? But I kept that thought to myself.

Maris pressed forward eagerly, practically bounding toward the entrance. His earlier excitement had now boiled over into visible joy, and it was contagious. I could feel my own anticipation rising, though I fought to keep my expression neutral.

"This was the first of the two ruins," Maris said, his voice taking on a reverent tone. "There’s a pressure plate trap here. I tried placing rocks on it before, but it wasn’t enough to trigger whatever the trap’s designed to do."

We stepped inside, and the fort swallowed us whole. The air was cooler, thick with the scent of damp stone and decaying wood. Above us, a second floor loomed, its railing rusted and half-collapsed. A metal grate blocked a downward slope on the far side of the room, and two pressure plates sat prominently in the middle, like forgotten keys waiting to unlock some ancient mechanism. Off to the side, a pile of large, jagged rocks leaned precariously against the wall, as though someone had hastily discarded them in frustration.

Water dripped from the ceiling in rhythmic splashes, each drop echoing in the large, empty space. The silence here felt thick, oppressive, broken only by the distant rumble of thunder as the storm outside moved away, leaving a damp stillness in its wake.

We both stepped onto the pressure plates, expecting... something.

But nothing happened.

I glanced at Maris, who shrugged, clearly as perplexed as I was.

I laughed, but the sound was hollow in the cavernous space. “Well, that was a bit anticlimactic. Wonder what we’re doing wrong.”

The plates were clearly part of a mechanism, but what was missing? My gaze wandered upward, following the path of the walls until I spotted something. On the second floor, platforms were suspended above the pressure plates. I could feel a knot tightening in my chest as I took in the sight. The platforms moved, ever so slightly, upwards—before ending abruptly at a square hole in the ceiling, just above the plates. A wave of frustration hit me.

Of course. The room wasn’t waiting for weight. It was waiting for us.

I climbed up onto the second-floor platform, my boots slick against the wet stone, heart hammering in my chest. It was painfully obvious now what the room wanted—painfully obvious, and that was the problem.

I stared at the square hole above the plates, bile rising in the back of my throat. Did I really want that? Did I really want to subject myself to whatever this ancient mechanism demanded? I’d been through enough already. Too many traps, too many betrayals.

Is this worth it? I thought bitterly, staring at the platform. Do I really want to put my body on the line again for a chance at—what? Treasure? A path forward?

My hands gripped the edge of the platform, knuckles white. The room was taunting me, daring me to step up and offer myself as the final piece of the puzzle. My muscles tensed, every fiber in my body screaming at me not to do it. But there was no other option, was there? It was painfully obvious what the room wanted from us. But did I really want that pain?

"Anything up there?" Maris’s voice echoed from below, pulling me from my thoughts.

I hesitated for a moment longer, eyes scanning the room, heart pounding in my chest. Why does it always come down to sacrifice?

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"Yeah," I called back, the words heavy on my tongue. "We’re going to have to jump."

A minute later, Maris had scrambled up to join me. The pit yawned before us, dark and foreboding, its edges jagged and slick from the rain that had filtered through the fort’s cracks. I could feel the tension in the air thickening, each passing second stretching into eternity. My pulse drummed in my ears, and I found myself gripping the edge of the platform harder, as though holding on would delay the inevitable.

I grimaced, not ready, but forcing myself anyway. "One... two... three."

We jumped.

The air rushed past me, and for a brief second, I felt weightless—a fleeting moment of calm before the impact. I fought the urge to cast my shield spell. I didn’t dare—one wrong move, and it might cushion the fall too much, keeping me from applying the weight needed to trigger the mechanism.

Then we hit. Hard. Pain exploded up my legs, sharp and sudden, as though I had slammed into solid rock. I screamed first, the sound ripping from my throat, raw and unfiltered, and I heard Maris's pained grunt follow shortly after. The jolt rattled through my bones, sending shockwaves of agony that made me close my eyes in agony.

My knees buckled beneath me, and I crumpled onto the stone plate, my breath knocked clean out of me. I had braced for it, prepared for the pain, but this was worse than I’d imagined—every nerve in my body alight, screaming for relief.

The room had demanded pain, and I had delivered it. I just hoped it would be enough.

For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of our ragged breaths echoing in the vast space. Then, slowly, the ancient, rusted mechanism groaned to life. Gears clanked together, and the metal gate creaked open, inch by inch, revealing the path forward.

"Thank the gods," I muttered through gritted teeth, the pain still pulsing in my legs. Without wasting another second, I cast a healing spell on myself, feeling the warmth of magic knit the torn muscles back together, the relief washing over me like a cool breeze. Then I turned and cast it on Maris.

He let out a low whistle, staring at his newly healed legs. "Woah, that’s useful," he said, half in awe, half in disbelief.

"Yeah," I replied, catching myself before I said too much. "Gotta love it. I’m so glad I…"

I almost let slip how useful my class was, but I bit down on the words just in time. I’d been careful so far, keeping any talk of the dungeon to a minimum. After all, for all I knew, this world might be a real place, disconnected from the dungeon entirely. No sense in giving too much away.

Maris gave me a sidelong glance, a question hovering just behind his eyes, but he shook his head, as if dismissing it. "Well, whatever it is, I’m glad you’ve got it," he said, a grin breaking through the pain still lingering on his face. "We might need more of that before we’re done here."

We moved toward the now unblocked room, the gate fully open. Every step still felt heavy, my legs protesting, though the worst of the pain had faded. As we passed under the archway, I glanced back at the pressure plates, still magically pressed down under the weight of our sacrifice.

And then down below, I gulped. All of my previous trials. All of the traps. The Arrows on the First floor. The swinging axe in the Djinn’s lamps, even the water switches from the belly of the beast., it all felt like like child’s play before what I saw in front of me.

he floor before us stretched out in a seemingly endless expanse of solid stone, but something was off. The torches along the walls sputtered, their flames casting erratic shadows that danced like specters across the ancient carvings. An unsettling silence hung in the air, broken only by the distant drip of water echoing somewhere in the darkness.

I crouched, extending my hand just above the stone floor. A chill brushed against my fingertips—a cold draft rising from below. That didn't make sense. This deep inside the temple, the air should be still, stagnant.

"Illusions," I muttered under my breath, a knot forming in my gut. "The floor isn't real."

Maris stepped beside me, his green eyes narrowing as he peered into the gloom. "How do you know?" he asked, his voice a low murmur that barely concealed a hint of impatience.

"Feel this." I waved my hand over the surface again, and a faint gust whispered upwards, carrying the scent of damp earth and something metallic—blood, perhaps. "There's a pit underneath. Could be spikes, lava, a bottomless abyss. Whatever it is, it's meant to kill intruders."

He raised an eyebrow, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Clever trap."

I glanced at him, noting the lack of surprise on his face.

He straightened up, scanning the chamber. "So, how do we get across?"