He then added a question that Elric did not ask: “What are you doing here? Your presence could unravel everything we have worked toward,” Martin said, his tone sharp and accusatory as his eyes narrowed at me.

“I— What? What do you mean?” I stammered, confusion lacing my voice. My gaze flicked to the crystal above my head, then back to his piercing eyes.

“This isn’t a game. You shouldn’t be here,” Martin continued, his frown deepening. He turned away from me to face Elric, speaking in a language I didn’t understand. My heart raced as I watched them, the air between us thick with tension.

Thankfully, Malice was kind enough to translate it for me. “[We shouldn’t trust this one. She might be a spy for the [insert tribe name here]],” Malice relayed in a hushed tone, almost conspiratorial.

Elric’s brow furrowed as he considered Martin’s words. “[Yes, I suppose that is a possibility. Did you find out what happened to her weapon and her armor? It was odd how it just vanished,]” Elric replied, his voice thoughtful yet tinged with suspicion.

“[Pay it no mind, your liege. I will take care of her while you prepare for the oncoming horde,]” Martin assured him, his tone confident and dismissive as he gave me a sideways glance.

I swallowed hard, my throat dry with fear as I locked eyes with the gruff man standing uncomfortably close. His eyes, dark and unforgiving, promised no mercy. Elric gave me one last, lingering glance before he turned away, his form disappearing into the dense foliage of the jungle.

As soon as Elric was gone, Martin turned his full attention to me, his presence looming like a storm cloud. “Now to see what I need to do with you,” he said, his voice dripping with malice as he slowly approached. “We are so very close to destroying this vile traitor, and I will not have you interfering.”

“Wait, you aren’t on Elric’s side?” I blurted out, my voice betraying the fear bubbling up inside me. I took a cautious step back, my mind racing to come up with a plan—any plan.

A slow, menacing smile crept across Martin’s face as he drew nearer, his footsteps deliberate and heavy. “As if I would ever truly serve such a self-centered, righteous monster as Elric, the King of the Oasis,” he sneered, his eyes gleaming with hatred. With a flourish, he pulled a knife from his belt, the blade catching the dim light filtering through the jungle canopy. “Now, how do you want this? Slow and painful? Quick and easy?”

Panic surged through me as I backed away, my heart pounding in my chest. I was trapped, alone in this unfamiliar place where no one spoke my language, where all this man had to do was claim self-defense, and no one would question him.

“Malice! Equip my armor, quick!” I hissed, my voice trembling with urgency as I stumbled over a root, barely catching myself before I fell.

[Righty-roo, Jamie, will do,] Malice’s voice chirped in my mind, and a second later, my suit of armor materialized around me. The sensation was jarring—one moment, I was vulnerable in the oppressive heat of the jungle, the next, encased in metal that, while hot, felt like a protective shield between me and certain death.

Martin’s knife clinked harmlessly against my armor as I swung a fist at his face, the movement slow and clumsy from the weight of the metal. He dodged, quick on his feet, and struck out again, his blade glancing off my suit. We danced like this for what felt like an eternity, my breath coming in ragged gasps as the weight of the armor drained my stamina. Sweat dripped down my back, my muscles burning from the exertion.

“Not so tough now, are you?” Martin taunted, his voice low and dangerous as he circled me, his eyes never leaving mine.

Finally, in a moment of desperation, I managed to knock the knife from his hand. It clattered to the ground, and for a brief second, our eyes locked—his wide with fear, mine with grim determination.

“Got you now,” I muttered under my breath, my voice barely more than a whisper. Before he could react, I lunged forward, wrapping him in the sturdy sheet I had scavenged from my first room. He struggled, his movements frantic and desperate, but the sheet held firm as I tied him securely to a nearby tree. His face twisted in a mix of anger and disbelief, his breathing harsh and ragged.

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Martin looked away, refusing to meet my eyes, his demeanor suddenly withdrawn. It was as if he had resigned himself to whatever fate awaited him, but the thought only deepened my resolve. “You thought you could just get rid of me, huh?” I whispered, more to myself than to him. I couldn’t kill him—not yet, not when there was still so much at stake.

Malice, ever eager, chimed in with dark suggestions. [Oh, oh! Make a caldo out of his bones! Or tie him upside down to a tree. Oh, oh, or you can cut off his tongue and lower jaw, infect him with the z-virus, and make him your pet!]

I shuddered, grateful that Malice’s macabre enthusiasm was confined to my thoughts. My prisoner, unaware of the twisted ideas floating in my head, remained silent, his eyes vacant.

I sat down beside him, drawing patterns in the dirt with my finger as I tried to think. The jungle around us was alive with the sounds of distant birds and insects, but the weight of the situation bore down on me like a leaden cloud. “If I played my cards right,” I murmured, my voice barely audible, “I could turn this to my advantage, maybe even make allies of the camp instead of enemies.”

There was only one person in the camp who spoke the common tongue, but I had no idea where she had gone. “Eloise,” I whispered, my eyes narrowing in determination. I needed to find her.

I glanced back at Martin, who was still tied to the tree, his eyes closed as if he was already preparing for whatever lay ahead. “You’re not getting away that easily,” I muttered as I stood up, determination hardening in my chest.

With a grunt of effort, I dragged him to a thick cluster of bushes, shoving him deep into the foliage. The makeshift rope might not hold him for long, but it would have to do while I searched for Eloise.

Clad in my armor, I sprinted from the clearing, shouting as I ran. “Traitor! Traitor in the camp! Help!” My voice echoed through the dense jungle, and as I burst into the main camp, I was struck by the sheer size of it. Tents sprawled out in every direction, a sea of canvas and people, their crystals bobbing like tiny lanterns in the air above them.

Eloise’s red hair caught my eye as she came running toward me, her expression a mix of concern and urgency. “What are you talking about? A traitor? Where?” she demanded, her voice sharp as she stopped just in front of me, her chest heaving from the run.

“Martin,” I gasped, trying to catch my breath. “He… he tried to kill me. Said I was destroying his plans to overthrow Elric.”

Eloise’s face darkened, her eyes narrowing with suspicion. “Really? That old blockhead? Didn’t figure him the type,” she muttered, shaking her head. “Let’s go stop him.”

She called out in her native tongue to a nearby soldier, then turned back to me, her expression resolute. “This way,” she said, motioning for me to lead. We rushed back to the clearing, but when we reached the bush where I had hidden Martin, my heart sank. He was gone.

Eloise’s face hardened as she turned on her heel, her eyes scanning the jungle. “I’ll find Elric,” she said, her voice cold and determined. Without waiting for a reply, she sprinted off, disappearing into the dense foliage.

I sank down against a tree, the weight of the situation crashing over me. “This is bad,” I muttered to myself, rubbing my temples. Martin’s escape could spell the end of this run, my second run, and the thought of starting over was almost too much to bear. But I wasn’t ready to give up—not yet.

“Hey, Malice,” I muttered, my voice barely a whisper.

[Yes, my lovely murderbot?] Malice’s voice was almost playful, despite the tension in the air.

“Can you reset my spawn to this clearing, please?” I asked, my tone resigned.

[My, my, my, aren’t we clever,] Malice chuckled, and I could almost see him grinning. [Of course. But you realize this clearing is not the best spot. If you appear on top of Elric, everyone and their mother are going to ask awkward questions that you don’t want to answer.]

“Fine, fine. Let’s go find a spot that’s hidden and out of the way,” I sighed, pushing myself up from the ground.

[I suggest back in that desert! It was so much fun watching you dehydrate. The only thing that would have made it better would have been popcorn y Valentina. Ah, I miss popcorn,]

His voice trailed off in a wistful sigh, and despite the absurdity of the situation, I felt a pang of sympathy. Being a floating crystal couldn’t be easy, and Malice’s strange humor was his way of coping.

I pushed forward into a thick, tangled part of the jungle, the undergrowth clawing at my armor. “Here,” I said, glancing around. “This should do.”

[Resetting spawn location.] Malice’s voice was all business now. [Spawn reset. Floor 2 Entrance - Jungle Oasis.]

I nodded, turning back toward the camp. My armor clinked softly with each step as I made my way back to the spot where Eloise had left me. The jungle seemed quieter now, the tension hanging heavy in the air. When Eloise returned, it didn’t take long to convince Elric of Martin’s betrayal. She explained the challenge of the floor to me, her voice steady as she laid out the grim reality of our situation.

Dying didn’t reset the floor; only Elric’s death could do that. And every time the floor reset, the situation changed—different soldiers, a different oasis, even different traitors. The floor’s goal was to root out all the traitors and keep Elric alive through seven waves of increasingly dangerous enemies. Sometimes, the task was to kill Elric, an automatic pass to the next floor. It was a maddeningly complex challenge, but now that we knew Martin was the traitor, we had a fighting chance to keep Elric alive.

We just had to keep watch, stay vigilant, and pray that nothing else went wrong.