Emma stared at the smooth, empty wall where the carvings had once been, her mind racing. The disappearance of the intricate engravings felt deliberate, as if the dungeon itself was toying with her. But why? What secret was it hiding now?

Her thoughts drifted back to what she’d seen before—the broken ring, the pool at its center, the bowing warriors, and the cryptic phrase: Looping Fate. Most vividly, she remembered the way the warriors’ carved eyes had shifted, their gaze unnervingly fixed on her.

But had they really been looking at her? Or had their attention been drawn to something behind her?

The question burned in her mind, and she stepped back, placing herself where the leader had been carved on the throne. Slowly, she crouched, mimicking the posture of the warriors on the wall, and turned her gaze to the smooth surface opposite the vanished carvings.

Her breath caught.

As she stared, faint lines began to etch themselves into the wall. The markings grew sharper and clearer, as though invisible hands worked feverishly to recreate a story long forgotten.

Emma stood, inching closer as the image came into focus. Her heartbeat quickened as she saw what now adorned the stone: two hands, impossibly large, reaching outward as if offering something. Resting in their palms was a massive eye, its pupil shaped like an intricately designed wheel.

The wheel wasn’t static. It spun, impossibly, the grooves of its design twisting and turning in an unending rhythm. The carving seemed alive, the spinning wheel drawing her in, its motion hypnotic and unsettling.

She took another step forward, her eyes locked onto the eerie image.

Then pain exploded in her skull.

A pulse of agony ripped through her mind, like a hammer shattering glass. She gasped, clutching her head as the world around her fragmented. The last thing she saw was the eye in the carving, its pupil widening as if to swallow her whole.

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And then, darkness.

Emma woke to the dim, flickering glow of the magical lamp. Her body felt heavy, her mind sluggish, as if weighed down by the burden of too many deaths. Without sitting up, she turned her head slightly, her eyes finding Maverick. He sat a short distance away, staring into the darkness beyond the lamp’s reach, seemingly unaware she had stirred.

The throbbing in her head was unbearable, but it wasn’t just pain—it was a reminder. This was the fourth loop. She had died three times, and she still had no clear answers.

Her chest tightened with frustration as her thoughts swirled. The carvings, the endless loop, the cursed baby that had turned into a predator—everything seemed connected, part of a puzzle she hadn’t yet pieced together.

She shut her eyes tightly, trying to focus. Why? Why is this happening?

Her mind returned to the images burned into her memory: the warriors bowing to a leader on a throne, the pool of water dividing the broken ring, and the hands offering the spinning eye. Each detail felt significant, like fragments of a story waiting to be uncovered.

Her thoughts drifted further, to the text she had read during her first loop—Looping Fate. The phrase echoed ominously in her mind, its meaning elusive but undeniable.

Then, like a spark igniting a fuse, something clicked.

Her eyes flew open, and she sat up abruptly, her heart hammering in her chest. “No…” she whispered to herself, the realization striking her like a bolt of lightning.

The broken ring. The eye in the hands. The warriors bowing in reverence.

“This isn’t just a dungeon,” she murmured, her voice barely audible over the pounding of her heart.

Her gaze snapped to Maverick, still seated in the same spot, his back to her. “A deity,” she breathed, her voice trembling with both fear and understanding.

Her hands tightened into fists. The pieces of the puzzle were finally falling into place. “A deity is sealed here,” she whispered, the weight of the revelation pressing down on her.

Her mind reeled at the implications. This was more than a mission, more than survival. The dungeon wasn’t just a trap—it was a prison.

And the entity trapped within?

It was something powerful. Something ancient. Something she couldn’t afford to underestimate.

Her lips pressed into a thin line as the thought solidified.

“Just like I was in Frostfall,” she muttered, the memory of her own imprisonment sending a chill through her veins.

The realization was both a warning and a challenge. If she couldn’t break the loop, she wouldn’t just die again—she would lose herself to whatever lay at the heart of this dungeon.

But Emma wasn’t about to let that happen.