"Mr... Mr... Bones?" Enya forced out between ragged breaths, her chest rising and falling as she tried to catch her breath. "Why...?" She was trying to ask, Why are you here? but the words wouldn’t come.

Mr. Bones sat slouched against the cold stone wall of the dungeon, knees pulled up, arms resting at his sides. A rusted sword lay on the ground next to him, untouched. He had been staring blankly at the opposite wall, but when Enya came into view, his hollow skull turned toward her. His eye sockets, empty and black, locked onto hers. Unlike Pell, who had the eerie purple soul-flames burning in his eye sockets, Mr. Bones had nothing. Just void.

Mr. Bones was... odd. More so than Pell, which was saying something. Pell had his quirks, but Mr. Bones was different—he understood things. He would nod when Pell spoke to him, comprehension clear and apparent. He wasn’t like the other skeletons that aimlessly wandered the dungeon, mindlessly patrolling with their weapons drawn. They moved with no awareness, no deviation from their set paths, but Mr. Bones... he didn’t follow any routine.

He didn’t carry any weapons most of the time, and he didn’t attack Enya on sight like the rest of the dungeon monsters. Instead, he ignored her, sitting along the walls as if taking breaks from whatever task he was supposed to be doing.

"Why are you here, Mr. Bones?" Enya managed to ask after regaining her voice.

Mr. Bones didn’t move. He just kept staring at her, motionless. There was no recognition, no nod, no response. It was as if he was just… taking a rest. Enya had seen him do this once before, when Pell had been guiding her through the dungeon. Just sitting there, doing nothing, like he was on some kind of break.

If he was here now, maybe...

“Um… hey, Mr. Bones, can… you help me? Please? Pell is in danger, and I’m… not sure if I can do anything to help him…” Enya said, her voice growing softer and more desperate with each word.

Mr. Bones’s skull seemed to twitch slightly at her plea. It was so subtle that it might have gone unnoticed by anyone else, but Enya caught it. She continued to stare at him with wide, hopeful eyes.

After a tense moment of silence, Mr. Bones slowly rose to his feet. He picked up his rusted sword and stood tall, looming over Enya. She gazed up at him, feeling a mix of awe and relief. For some reason, Mr. Bones seemed… oddly dependable. Not quite heroic, but certainly trustworthy. He slung his large, rusted sword over his shoulder, the blade pointing upward, and stood completely straight, waiting for her to speak. Up close, Enya realized just how much taller he was compared to Pell—an entire head taller, at least.

“D-does this mean you’ll help me?” she asked, her voice trembling with hope.

Mr. Bones nodded his head. Enya’s eyes brightened with gratitude and joy.

“T-thank you! Pell’s in the main hallway, or… well, he’s about to be, I think,” she explained. Her vision of the hallway was still uncertain, but it was the best she could provide.

Mr. Bones looked at her with an unreadable expression. Enya, still exhausted and struggling to maintain her composure, felt the weight of her fatigue. Her hair was disheveled, and sweat was streaming down her face.

Without a word, Mr. Bones swung his sword back onto the ground with a decisive motion. He turned away from her and crouched down, then pointed toward his back with his free hand.

Enya stared at him, puzzled. What was he doing? Surely he wasn’t…

“Are… you telling me to get on your back?” Enya asked, her voice a mixture of surprise and exhaustion. She was beyond tired, and if the undead didn’t get fatigued, she definitely wouldn’t mind if Mr. Bones was offering to carry her.

He confirmed with a nod.

Hesitantly, Enya approached him. It felt awkward as she tried to climb onto his back. Her long dress made things harder than expected, tangling around her legs, and her hands were occupied with a dagger and a spiky medallion. She also had the red orbs hidden in her dress, and she was worried they might break if she wasn’t careful.

She wrapped her arms around Mr. Bones’s neck, ensuring the dagger pointed away from him. As her feet left the ground, she tightened her grip, pressing her face against his back, keeping her nose sideways to avoid bruising it. The weight of her body pulling downward made the task even more difficult than she’d anticipated.

As Enya tightened her grip around Mr. Bones, he began to move forward. He took a few slow steps, but quickly sped up. After just five seconds, Mr. Bones was in a full-sprint. Enya’s entire body shook constantly as he ran. Her body grew sore, as it felt like she was constantly being hit against circular stone beams that were his bones and back ribs. She soon forgot about this pain, as Mr. Bones sprinted at an unbelievable speed, rattling her brain back into full alertness.

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With her face pressed against his back, Enya couldn’t get a clear view of their surroundings. She could only glimpse the blurred ground and dungeon walls speeding past them. She couldn’t measure how fast they were moving, but it felt like they were flying. Mr. Bones was fast—possibly even faster than Mr. Rat.

As they raced forward, Enya struggled to adjust her position, trying to secure a better grip. She managed to pull herself up slightly, and noticing her effort, Mr. Bones leaned forward even more, making it easier for her to shift and find a more comfortable anchor point.

Enya tightened her grip around Mr. Bones’s neck, adjusting her position as her face now hovered above his shoulders. Her chin rested carefully against her own shoulder to protect herself from the jarring impact of his powerful strides. Though still somewhat uncomfortable, she could finally see ahead of them.

“Right!”

“Forward!”

“Left!”

Her voice cut through the rushing air as she called out commands. Mr. Bones responded perfectly, adjusting his path with flawless precision.

As they sped through the winding dungeon corridors, Enya was awestruck by Mr. Bones’s incredible speed. He was covering ground in minutes that would have taken her three times as long. They breezed through the narrow, dimly lit halls with almost no effort. But even as they raced ahead, a gnawing worry tugged at Enya’s mind.

The vision she’d seen hadn’t told her when the event took place, only where. For all she knew, Pell could already be inside of Mr. Rat’s jaws. The thought tightened her chest. Please don’t be too late… she begged silently.

Mr. Bones made one final right turn, and they were just moments from the main hallway intersection—the place where Pell and the demonic rat would be running and chasing after one another, or… where she’d find no one at all. She steeled herself, her heart pounding as uncertainty gnawed at her.

With a deep breath, she closed her eyes briefly, forcing her mind to clear. The mental exhaustion she’d been fighting off slowly began to lift now that she could rest on Mr. Bones’s back. Though she wasn’t at her best, she could think more clearly now. And, most importantly, she could focus.

Enya sharpened her focus, letting the world around her dissolve into clarity. The wind brushed her face, every strand of her hair moving as if in slow motion. She could feel each shift in the air, each flicker of movement. The damp, rotting smell of the dungeon lingered, mixed with the sharp scent of moss and the gritty dust of stone. The world outside faded into a dull hum, muffled in the background. She became encased inside of a miniature bubble, one that expanded rapidly.

Her eyes snapped open, glowing with a bright yellow hue.

Skill: Absolute Focus has been activated.

She pushed her awareness outward, the range of her perception expanding several meters ahead. But it wasn’t enough. She pushed harder, her breath stilled, her mind settling into a cold, concentrated state. The world slowed further, and her focus narrowed into a razor-sharp beam shooting forward. Her sensory field shifted, contracting from its usual wide range into a focused line.

Though she wasn’t fully sure how Absolute Focus worked, it always felt like her senses formed this type of familiar bubble. But now, she willed that bubble into a concentrated point, one that extended forward like the shot of an arrow, as if her mind was reaching out, trying to target something in the distance.

As Mr. Bones sprinted through the dungeon’s hall, her senses surged ahead of them, scanning the space like invisible tendrils. Then—something. A faint disturbance rippled through her awareness, a tremor in the otherwise smooth sensation of the air ahead. It was too far away to discern clearly, but something was there. She could feel it.

Her Absolute Focus didn’t quite mimic sight or sound. It wasn’t like touching something physically, either. It was more abstract—like sensing the flow of magic or mana through spell circuits. She wasn’t just watching something like a spectator; she was intertwined with the very essence of the space ahead. The feeling grew stronger, reinforcing itself with Enya’s urgency.

Enya’s heart pounded as she focused on the strange sensation ahead. It felt like two presences merging into one—an odd, almost disorienting overlap that blurred the lines between them. Her mind raced to process what her ethereal sense had detected, but as Mr. Bones dashed forward, the reality of the situation snapped into view.

Two figures emerged from the darkness, one unmistakably Pell. The other—the monstrous rat. Her senses caught up, and the truth hit her like a hammer: they were about to collide. The rat was rapidly approaching Pell at an alarming speed, its grotesque form about to lunge toward Pell.

“Pell!” Enya’s voice tore through the silence. “Pell, I came to save you!”

But the words barely left her lips before the rat's massive body crashed into Pell. Enya winced as she saw Pell’s skeletal frame buckle under the force, his bones shifting and cracking from the impact. A faint, sickening crack echoed through the hall, and her breath caught in her throat.

“No…” The word slipped out, barely audible, her voice trembling with dread.

She was too late. Mr. Bones, though fast, wasn’t fast enough. She had mere seconds—just moments—before the monstrous rat would sink its teeth into Pell’s skull. The vision had warned her of this, but now, seeing it unfold before her eyes, the sense of helplessness weighed down on her chest like a large stone.

Her mind raced. There had to be something, anything, she could do to stop the rat from delivering the fatal blow.

“Mr… Mr. Bones! P-Pell! He-He’s about to die! Can you go faster! Please!” Enya pleaded, her words and voice stammering as she tried to grasp onto any hope she could.

Mr. Bones reacted instantly upon hearing Enya’s plea. His body shifted, the bones in his right arm that held his sword snapped. Pop! Pop! Pop! The joints in his arm moved in a sudden swift motion. His upper torso leaned and rotated to the right.

“H-huh?” Enya said, words breathless.

The bones in his hands crackled with intensity, as the rest of his body seemed to compress, as if he was straining himself, about to perform something with all of his might.

Mr. Bones’ hand let go of the hilt of his rusted sword for a moment, twirling it around and gripping it once again at a different angle. His body shifted, almost sending Enya flying off of him. His arms moved and his body tensed up, as he positioned himself into a throwing stance—the blade of his sword facing straight forward, arm cocked back, and ready to throw.