As the sun dipped below the horizon, it spilled molten hues of red and gold across the sky, the colors bleeding into the encroaching darkness. Shadows stretched long and thin across the island, swallowing the terrain piece by piece. The volcano loomed in the distance, an obsidian monolith that exhaled a lazy plume of smoke into the heavens. The air carried the sharp tang of sulfur, burning faintly in my nostrils, and the ground beneath me gave a faint tremor—a subtle reminder of its restless power.

[Great, another death trap waiting to happen,] Malice muttered, his crystalline form hovering beside me. His facets caught the dying light, casting tiny rainbows on the ground. [I swear, Jamie, your sense of direction is as bad as your taste in company.]

I shot him a sidelong glance. "You know, your constant complaining isn't exactly helping."

[Oh, I'm sorry. Did you expect a round of applause for leading us straight to a volcano?] he retorted. [Because nothing says 'safe haven' like imminent fiery doom.]

The temptation to stay near the volcano flickered in my mind. It was warm, at least, and the chill of the night was already clawing at my skin. But the thought of waking to molten rock surging down its slopes made me shudder. Never again.

Instead, I found refuge beneath the gnarled roots of an ancient tree, its trunk broad enough to block the worst of the wind. The roots twisted and curled, forming a natural alcove just large enough for me to curl into. My bag of supplies, scavenged from the previous floor, became a makeshift pillow as I leaned against the rough bark. Exhaustion weighed heavy on me, and my eyes slid shut almost immediately. The world blurred and faded, sleep dragging me under like a tide.

[Great plan, take a nap in the open where anyone can slit your throat,] Malice scoffed, but his voice grew distant as sleep claimed me.

It didn’t last.

The icy press of a blade against my throat yanked me back into consciousness. My breath caught, and my heart leaped into my throat as my eyes flew open. Blake’s face loomed above me, her features lit by the pale glow of moonlight. Her eyes burned with feral intensity, bloodshot and wild, and her tangled hair framed her pale, hollow cheeks. She looked like someone who hadn’t slept in days, but the dagger in her hand didn’t waver. The steel edge pressed into my skin, cold and unrelenting.

[Well, look who decided to drop by,] Malice chimed in from somewhere above, his tone dripping with sarcasm. [Didn't know we were hosting a midnight murder party.]

“You don’t deserve to walk out of here,” she hissed, her voice low and venomous. “Not after what you’ve done.”

I blinked, my mind still sluggish from sleep, trying to make sense of her words. “Blake?” My voice was hoarse. “What—what are you—”

“Shut up!” she snapped, pressing the blade harder. I winced as a thin line of blood welled where the dagger bit into my skin. “Do you even realize what you’ve done? Who you’ve put at risk?”

“What are you talking about?” I said, my voice steadying despite the panic rising in my chest. “You followed me here. You made your choice.”

Her eyes flashed with anger, and her grip on the dagger tightened. “You don’t get it, do you? You’re reckless. Selfish. You think you’re the only one who matters.”

[She's got a point there,] Malice quipped. [But can we skip the monologue and get to the part where I loot her corpse?]

I swallowed hard, feeling the sting of the blade against my throat. “Blake, we don’t have time for this. The volcano—”

“I don’t care about the volcano!” she shouted, her voice cracking. “Do you know what happens if any of us die here? No tickets. No respawns. No corpse to collect. We lose everything. The run resets to floor one, and no one gets the golden page. No one.”

Her words sank in like stones, dragging my thoughts down with them. If we died here, there would be no second chances. No escape. I met her gaze, searching for any sign of reason, but her eyes were hard, unforgiving. She didn’t care about survival—she cared about winning. About making sure I didn’t.

“And only one person gets to leave,” she continued, her voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “Only one person claims the page. That person won’t be you.”

The blade pressed deeper, a sharp sting that sent a fresh trickle of blood sliding down my neck.

[You have taken 4 damage.]

I cried out in pain as my fingers twitched toward the weapon at my side, but I hesitated. I didn’t want to fight her—I didn’t want to hurt her. But the fire in her eyes told me she wouldn’t give me a choice.

“Blake,” I said, my voice calm but firm. “Don’t do this.”

[Yeah, Blake, don't do this,] Malice mocked. [Because threatening someone's life is so last season.]

She didn’t respond. Instead, her hand shifted, the dagger drawing a shallow cut across my throat.

[Critical Hit! You have taken 6 damage.]

She must not have realized my class gave me a health bonus. This time I screamed bloody murder, but it was mostly an act. Mostly. The pain jolted me into action. My instincts took over, and in one swift motion, I grabbed the hilt of my axe. The weapon pulsed in my hand, its power surging through me as the blade ignited with a dull, red glow. The light painted the world in shades of crimson, casting sharp shadows across Blake’s face. The ground exploded, knocking Blake away from me.

[Blake takes 12 damage.]

Her eyes widened, but only for a moment. She snarled, baring her teeth like a feral animal, and lunged at me. I twisted to the side, the dagger slicing through the air where my neck had been. The blade grazed my shoulder, drawing a thin line of blood.

[You have taken 3 damage.]

I didn’t falter. I swung my axe upward, forcing her to retreat.

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[You deal 7 damage.]

“Stay down!” I barked, raising my weapon. “You don’t have to do this.”

“Yes, I do!” she screamed, her voice raw and trembling. “You always ruin everything. Always. You don’t care about anyone but yourself!”

[Ouch, someone's got issues,] Malice snickered. [Maybe she should take up a hobby—like not stabbing people.]

Her words hit like a slap, but I didn’t let them distract me. She was fast, quicker than I’d expected, and she closed the distance between us in an instant. Her dagger flashed in the dim light, aiming for my side. I sidestepped, bringing my axe around in a wide arc. The blade caught her arm, not deeply, but enough to draw blood.

[Critical Hit! You deal 10 damage.]

She hissed in pain, stumbling back.

“Don’t make me hurt you,” I said, my voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through me.

She glared at me, hatred and desperation warring in her eyes. “You think I’m afraid of you?” she spat. “You’re nothing. Just a coward hiding behind your luck.”

[Luck? Please, if it weren't for me, he'd be worm food by now,] Malice interjected. [Let’s be honest here.]

She lunged again, her movements wild and erratic, but I could see the cracks in her resolve. She was tired, her body trembling with exhaustion, her strikes growing sloppy. I parried her attacks with ease, the clang of metal ringing out in the still night.

[Dagger Attack Blocked. No damage taken.]

“You’ve already lost, Blake,” I said, my tone calm but firm. “Stand down.”

“Never,” she growled, her voice breaking. “Not until you’re dead.”

She struck again, and I countered, the flat of my axe slamming into her shoulder.

[You deal 15 damage.]

She cried out, the force of the blow sending her sprawling to the ground. Her dagger flew from her hand, landing several feet away.

I stepped forward, planting my boot on her wrist as she reached for it.

“It’s over,” I said, lowering my axe. The red glow dimmed, casting us both in shadow.

[Finally, can we tie her up and move on? There’s treasure waiting,] Malice urged impatiently.

Blake stared up at me, her chest heaving, her face twisted with rage and fear. For a moment, I thought she might fight back, but her body betrayed her. She slumped against the dirt, her strength spent.

“Do it,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “If you’re going to kill me, just do it.”

I hesitated, the weight of the axe suddenly heavy in my hands.

“No,” I said softly. “I’m not like you.”

Her eyes widened, a flicker of something—shock, disbelief—crossing her face. “What?”

“I’m not killing you,” I said firmly, stepping back. “Not today.”

[Oh, come on! She’s tried to kill you twice now,] Malice exclaimed. [Third time’s the charm, and not in a good way.]

Her expression twisted, anger and humiliation flashing across her face. “You think this makes you better than me?” she spat, her voice shaking. “You’re a fool. You’ll regret this.”

“Maybe,” I said, turning away. “But that’s my choice.”

The ground shuddered violently beneath us, the distant roar of the volcano growing louder. A plume of ash and fire erupted into the sky, painting the horizon in fiery hues. The air grew thick with heat and smoke, suffocating and oppressive.

I glanced back at Blake. She was still on the ground, her hand clutching her injured arm. For a moment, I considered offering to help her, but the venom in her glare stopped me. She wasn’t ready to listen. Not yet.

[Leave her, Jamie. She's dead weight, and we've got bigger fish to fry—like not getting fried ourselves,] Malice insisted.

Without another word, I walked away, leaving her in the shadows.

The island was eerily quiet as I pressed onward, the silence heavy and oppressive. Even the volcano’s distant rumble seemed muted, swallowed by the stillness. Each step felt like a trespass, the air thick with an unspoken warning. The landscape stretched before me, vast and desolate, but my eyes were drawn to one point—a massive, ancient well hidden among the overgrown brush.

[Now that's more like it,] Malice said, a hint of greed gleaming in his crystalline depths. [Old wells always hide the best loot. Let's see what we can snag.]

It loomed like a forgotten relic, its stones dark and weathered, etched with symbols that seemed to pulse faintly in the dim light. Vines clung to its sides like veins, and the air around it felt colder, heavier. I hesitated, every instinct screaming at me to turn back. But something about it called to me, a whisper at the edge of my mind.

This was it. The golden page had to be here.

I stepped closer, peering into its depths. The well’s interior was lined with jagged spikes, their points gleaming faintly like teeth in the darkness. The sight sent a shiver down my spine, but I couldn’t afford to turn back now. The page was close—I could feel it.

[Careful, those spikes look like they're itching for company,] Malice warned, though his tone was more eager than cautious. [But where there's danger, there's treasure.]

Taking a deep breath, I reached for the symbols carved into the stones. My fingers traced their lines, and a sharp jolt shot through me, a burst of energy that made my heart race.

My fingers hesitated over one of the patterns—a twisting sigil that seemed to shift under my gaze. The more I stared, the more it felt like it was watching me, its spiraling lines tightening and unraveling in subtle, impossible motions. The sensation made my stomach churn.

[Stop dawdling,] Malice urged. [Trigger the mechanism already. We're so close I can taste it.]

The carvings weren’t just designs. They were purposeful, alive with meaning that hovered just beyond comprehension. They seemed to tell a story—or perhaps a warning—depicting figures locked in an eternal struggle. In one section, a humanoid shape stood atop a mountain, holding aloft a blazing object. Around it, smaller figures knelt, their forms bent and broken, their heads crowned with jagged halos. Another portion showed monstrous forms—half mist, half shadow—encircling a great chasm, their elongated arms reaching for something unseen.

[This is all very artistic, but unless it leads us to the page, it's useless,] Malice said impatiently. [Focus, Jamie. Time's ticking, and so is that volcano.]

I nodded absently, my mind racing. The sigils pulsed under my touch, each one a piece of a puzzle I needed to solve. The air thickened, charged with anticipation.

[There, that symbol matches the one on your map,] Malice pointed out. [Press it already!]

Taking a deep breath, I pressed the twisting sigil firmly. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, a deep rumble echoed from within the well, and the ground vibrated beneath my feet.

[Now we're talking,] Malice said, excitement coloring his voice.

The stones around the well began to shift, the jagged spikes retracting like the teeth of a colossal beast. A soft, golden light emanated from the depths, bathing us in a warm glow.

"Is that...?" I whispered.

[The golden page,] Malice confirmed, his facets gleaming with reflected light. [hah! As if it would be that easy!]

The gold light vanished, and in its place was a vibrant red coin. I stared at it dumbfounded, not believing it was just a stupid coin.

[Well, don't just stand there gawking,] Malice urged. [Grab it before someone else shows up.]

I reached into the well, my fingers closing around the coin. . It was warm to the touch, pulsing with energy. As I lifted it, the light intensified, and a surge of power coursed through me.

[Finally,] Malice sighed with satisfaction. [Now let's get out of here before that volcano decides to rain on our parade.]

The ground shook violently, almost knocking me off my feet. In the distance, the volcano roared, spewing lava and ash into the sky.

"Agreed, time to go."