I stiffened at the mention of Elizabeth. The memory of her sudden destruction gnawed at me. She had been my only guide, my only connection to something… human in this forsaken place. Every time I found connection here, it had been brutally ripped away. I didn’t even want to think about Blake. I wasn’t ready to trust Aurentum, or whatever he had planned.
Before I could speak, Aurentum raised his hand. Rellum stepped forward. He wore white robes that fluttered as though moved by an invisible wind. His calm, calculating expression set my teeth on edge, and his predatory gaze locked onto mine, trapping me in its intensity. He moved with a quiet menace, every step deliberate.
"Long time no see, Rod," Rellum said with a smirk. His voice was deeper than I remembered, carrying a dangerous edge.
I stared at him, a knot forming in my gut. "Rellum? What are you doing here?" Distrust seeped into my voice. The last time I'd crossed paths with him, nothing had gone according to plan.
Before he could answer, Aurentum’s smooth, warm voice cut in, its sharp edge sending a shiver down my spine. "Rellum here can restore your ability to use Aerlyntiums."
My breath hitched. Aerlyntiums. The orbs that had once granted me power beyond imagining—the ability to bring penitents back from death, to rebuild the second floor in my image. The temptation was immediate, but I knew better than to think anything came without a price.
I turned to Aurentum, his tall, radiant figure commanding attention. Golden antlers adorned his head, gleaming with ethereal light. His molten gold eyes held an unsettling intensity, and his slow, condescending smile hinted at danger. The aura radiating from him was thick, making the air feel heavy with unspoken authority.
"In exchange for what?" I asked, my voice tight with suspicion.
Rellum’s smirk widened, his amusement glinting like a predator toying with prey. "An Aurentum shell for Aurentum. A new crystal for you." he said smoothly, as though the request were nothing. "But there's a catch—you’ll need to restore the entire second floor before you can move on to the third."
The second floor. My stomach twisted, memories flooding back—the djinn, the endless waves of Goblins. Thomas's betrayal. Could I really go back? Could I endure that again?
I clenched my fists, trying to suppress the rising tide of dread. The room’s cold, shimmering floor reflected the oppressive atmosphere, and the weight of judgment pressed down on me. The suffocating presence of both Aurentum and Rellum trapped me—not with physical bars, but with forces beyond my control.
"And if I refuse?" The words tasted bitter on my tongue, but I had to ask.
A moment of silence passed, and then Aurentum shrugged, a gesture so casual it made my skin crawl. "Then you remain here, powerless. Unable to move forward. Trapped in stagnation. The library will stay beyond your reach, and with it, any hope of redemption or escape. Any hope of seeing Jamie or Blake ever again. Your choice, of course."
My mind raced. Is this the only way? I had no doubt they were cornering me into a decision I didn’t want to make, but did I have a choice? Elizabeth had been taken from me, and with her my ability to purchase death boons. My ability to gain power in this place, and now they were offering something—however twisted—in return.
I forced myself to meet Rellum’s gaze. His predatory eyes gleamed with amusement.
"If I agree," I said slowly, my voice trembling, "you’ll restore my abilities?"
Rellum nodded, his smirk fading into something more serious. His white robes fluttered, stirred by an invisible wind, and his predatory gaze sharpened. "Yes. And you'll be one step closer to returning to the library."
Aurentum’s voice cut through the tension like a knife—smooth, warm, yet dripping with condescension. His golden antlers gleamed with ethereal light, and his molten gold eyes held an unsettling intensity. A slow, superior smile curved his lips, a reminder that, as a god, he held the reins here. “And I’ll assist you... as much as the rules allow. But don’t expect me to hold your hand.”
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His words stung, their edge deliberate. He knew exactly how to press into my insecurities, to remind me how small I was in the face of his power.
For a long moment, I said nothing, the weight of their offer pressing down on me. The pristine chamber around us pulsed like a living thing. The walls shimmered with soft, golden light, delicate patterns glowing faintly as though mocking my hesitation. The polished floor reflected the light like rippling water beneath a full moon, but none of it brought comfort. The soaring ceiling, vast and endless, loomed above me with the cold indifference of a god’s judgment.
Restoring the second floor. Facing the monsters, the traps, the labyrinth that had nearly broken me. But the Aerlyntiums... the power... the chance to find Aurentum again, to claw back some semblance of control.
I swallowed hard. “Fine,” I said, forcing my voice to sound resolute. “I’ll do it.”
Rellum stepped forward, his calm, calculating expression replaced with solemnity. His hand glowed faintly with energy—cold, shimmering light that promised power, but not without cost. He placed it on my shoulder, and a surge of energy slammed into me—sharp, electric, and merciless.
I gasped as the power coiled through me like a thousand needles threading my veins. The familiar hum of the Aerlyntium bracelet returned, raw and eager, a double-edged gift. Relief mingled with dread, my legs threatening to buckle as the surge subsided.
Aurentum’s eyes glinted with a knowing satisfaction. “There. Now try not to squander it.” His voice was calm, yet his smugness oozed through every syllable, a god amused by mortal struggles. “Remember, you must restore the entire second floor. I won’t step in to save you if you fall flat on your face.”
I took a deep breath, his words biting into my resolve. Restore the second floor. I had barely survived it once. Now, I was supposed to fix it?
“I understand,” I said, though doubt gnawed at me. “Where do I start?”
Aurentum’s smile widened, cold and condescending. “You'll need 100,000 of all the materials. I'm sure You’ll figure it out. Even you can manage that much.”
Without waiting for a reply, he raised his hand. The golden light of the sanctum began to fade, its serene beauty peeling away like a false promise. Rellum dissolved first, his lingering smirk taunting me even in absence.
The pristine walls and polished floors disappeared, replaced by damp stone, growing sewage, and choking darkness. The air turned heavy, thick with the stench of decay and dread. Shadows twisted at the edge of my vision, monsters lurking, waiting to strike.
Aurentum’s parting words echoed in my mind, a smirking god’s challenge: “Try not to disappoint me, Rod.”
The weight of my new quest settled on my shoulders, cold and unrelenting.
I've come this far. The thought settled in my mind like a cold, immovable stone, hardening my resolve. I can't turn back now.
“Time to finish what I started,” I muttered through clenched teeth.
The shadows shifted and writhed as if sensing my determination. I took my first step forward, and the darkness swallowed me whole. The path ahead was uncertain, fraught with dangers I couldn’t yet see, but one thing was clear—I was done being a pawn. If restoring the second floor was the key to moving forward, then so be it.
With determination burning in my chest, I ventured forward, committed to finishing this quest as soon as I could
It didn’t take long to clear the first floor. I went with an archer class, but despite poking and prodding, my new crystal wouldn't let me spend any other death boons. The second floor, a nightmare I had barely survived before, now fell before me like brittle glass.
Progress was steady, at first. But Aurentum's words echoed like a death knell in my mind: “You’ll need 100,000 of all the materials to claim the Aerlyntiums and restore the second floor.”
100,000.
I froze, dread sinking its claws into me. The math didn’t lie—ten lives. Ten full runs through the first two floors. Ten lifetimes of endless grinding, fighting, dying, and starting over again. The thought coiled in my gut like a serpent, squeezing until my hands shook. Ten wasted runs that could have gained me salvation. I was just climbing out of the first floor, when I heard a noise strangely like talking.
That was when I saw it.
A faint glow pierced through the gloom, half-hidden beneath the slimy remains of a defeated Goblin. I dropped from the ladder, and then I bent down, heart pounding, and picked it up—a memory core. The moment my fingers closed around it, the world blurred and tilted.
A voice cut through the fog, sharp and accusatory, like a knife to the gut:
“You’re going to let this happen, Rod?”
Erik’s voice.
The memory seized me, dragged me under like a stone hurled into still water. The air left my lungs, the darkness became a prison, and guilt bloomed, raw and unrelenting.