Cal stepped into the cavern. "Circle up," he directed, voice low but carrying. The group tightened around him, a collection of tense faces and wary eyes. “I’ve charged the ring.”

"Time's short, and I expect both the wolves and Tobin to be on their way," Cal said, his gaze locking with each pair of eyes in turn. "We need to use the ring now." His hand hovered over the band in his hand, the metal dull. "We stick together. No one else gets left behind… Uh, also how does this work again? We won’t get shredded in the spatial tear?"

Elena nodded, her violet eyes glinting with a readiness that belied her petite frame. The cervidians, their antlers casting complex shadows, shuffled closer, silent but alert.

Cal's fingers dipped into his spatial treasure, emerging with a handful of mana crystals, their glow painting his features in hues of eerie blues and greens. He divided them meticulously into three distinct piles on a flat stone before him.

"Leftovers," he explained, pushing one pile towards Elena with a nod. Her fingers closed around the crystals, the sharp edges pressing into her palm. She tucked them into a pouch at her waist without a word.

Jaxon's hand recoiled as if the pile of mana crystals before him were venomous. "I want none of it," he growled, his muscular frame tense with indignation.

"Nor I," echoed Jabor, flanking Jaxon like a shadow, his voice a bitter mimicry of refusal. The two cervidians stood rigid, their antlers an intimidating silhouette against the dim light.

Cal observed them, the muscles in his jaw ticking. Their shame was palpable, yet it didn't change the weight of the situation.

Without a word, Cal swept the unwanted crystals into his palm. They felt cool and heavy, brimming with potential. He slid them into his pocket with a silent vow to harness their power should necessity demand it.

"What’s done is done, the crystals are crystals," he said, his blue eyes locking on theirs for a brief moment, a spark of challenge igniting in the depths.

Jaxon turned away, his gray eyes stormy with unspoken conflict. Jabor's head bowed, but whether in agreement or defeat, it was hard to tell.

Cal's fingers brushed the ring, feeling its pulse against his skin. It was time.

Elena stepped into the cave depths and led the team there. She scanned the anxious faces gathered. She held out her hands, palms up, as if to cradle the very air that trembled with latent energy.

"Listen closely," she commanded, her voice a low thrum that cut through the silence. "The tear should form here, a fissure between realms."

Everyone leaned in, the night's chill forgotten as her words wove an image of their path to salvation.

"It's a doorway," Elena continued, "of mana itself. When we step through, we survive. It’s going to be rough. Going through spatial tears always is, but we should survive."

Her eyes lingered on Cal, an unspoken urgency passing between them.

Cal nodded, his movements precise. He slipped the ring onto his finger. The metal felt cool, contrasting with the warmth of his skin. There was a charge to the ring, he could see the swirling silver being pulled to it.

Suddenly, Cal felt a click. It was as if the ring was now bound to him.

His heart quickened, each beat a drumroll calling him to act.

“That is just a soulbinding, nothing to worry about, Cal.” Temp continued, “You don’t have system access, so you’ll have to understand its functions yourself.”

"Here goes nothing," he muttered under his breath.

With a deep breath, Cal closed his eyes and concentrated. The ambient mana in the air responded to his call, unseen currents swirling toward him. He envisioned the ring as a furnace as he pumped it full of mana.

Within the ring, Cal could feel different tangles, or perhaps channels, to guide the ambient mana. As he drew the mana in from the environment, he knew that only one was path was possible with the ring's store of energy and capability.

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A soft glow emanated from the band, casting eerie shadows across the group's faces. They watched, transfixed, and ready for their escape.

The air before them quivered, a shimmering dance of light and shadow. Cal's brow furrowed, his focus unyielding as the space in front of the group began to contort. A ripple, like a stone dropped into a still pond, emanated from the ring on his finger. The group tensed, eyes wide with anticipation.

"Steady," murmured Cal, though his voice was more for himself than the others.

Elena's hand twitched, her gaze sharp. Jaxon shifted his weight. Jabor frowned. And Jobe peaked out to take a look. All were keen not to miss a detail.

"Is it supposed to do that?" Jabor asked, scratching his head, befuddled by the sight.

"Bro." Jaxon elbowed Jabor. His usual bravado subdued by the unfolding enigma.

Stone around them groaned and the cavern walls whispered secrets as they began to warp and tangle. Instead of the expected rift or tear, a door grew from the wall.

It grew from the very fabric of their reality, its form solidifying with each passing second, wood grains and metal fixtures knitting themselves out of thin air.

From small to large, it supplanted the stone that existed.

"What the fuck..." Elena whispered, her voice laced with wonder and a hint of something calculating. “Well shit.”

"Wasn't expecting that," Cal exlaimed. “Wasn’t there supposed to be a rift?”

“I think the door is the rift, bro.” Jaxon replied.

"Neither was I," Jabor said, eyeing the door with suspicion.

It stood incongruous against the cavern’s natural beauty, an elegant anomaly.

"Temp, do you know what happened?" Cal asked, seeking input.

"Data inconclusive," came Temp's disembodied response, the voice betraying a new edge of curiosity.

"Ready yourselves," Elena said, her tone devoid of surprise, only readiness. “We need to get out, and there’s a door right in front of us.”

"Let's not be rash," Cal cautioned, reassurance woven through his command even as his mind raced through possibilities.

"Open it," Jabor urged, impatience overcoming his initial hesitation.

Elena's hand, pale against the dark wood, rapped sharply on the door. The sound echoed in the dank cavern, a hollow timbre that spoke of solidity and resistance. Then she tried opening the doorknob.

Her violet eyes flickered to Cal, conveying an unspoken question.

"Locked," she stated flatly.

The gathered group exchanged uneasy glances. The cervidian shifted weight from hoof to hoof, their antlers clattering softly in the reverberating silence that followed Elena's declaration.

Cal approached, the ring on his finger casting a faint glow in the dimness. Its light played across the strange metalwork of the door, patterns emerging and retreating like the ebb and flow of an unseen tide.

"Let me try," he said, voice steady despite the quickening pulse in his throat.

His hand moved toward the handle, fingers barely grazing the cold metal before the ring flared with brilliance.

"It’s working," he called over his shoulder, then reached for the doorknob, his touch deliberate.

The door clicked, a sound far too ordinary for such an extraordinary moment.

Cal held up a hand. The ring pulsed against his skin, a heartbeat synchronized with the odd threshold. He stepped forward, drawn by an invisible thread.

"Did it work?" Jaxon asked, brow furrowed as he leaned forward.

"It seems so," Cal answered, pushing down on the handle, the door yielding to his touch.

The door groaned open, a slow arc into the unknown.

There was no fluorescent light in the room, but there was torchlight spilling into the cavern, bathing the group in an amber glow.

Cal's heart hammered against his chest as he peered into the room, the ring on his finger pulsing like a living thing.

Then, the unexpected tableau hit them.

In the center of the radiant chamber, atop a mound of furs, a dwarf—his beard, wild—and a cervidian, her antlers regal, were locked in a fervent tangle.

A collective gasp rippled through the group. Cal stood frozen, the ring's light flickering erratically, mirroring the shock that held him captive.

"Gods," someone muttered, a voice barely above a whisper.

Jabor, muscles tense and eyes wide, sprang into action. With more swiftness than grace, he lunged at the door. It slammed shut, cutting off the voyeuristic view, the echo of the impact resounding like a clap of thunder.

"Sorry! Sorry!" Jabor stammered, his face a mask of mortification. "Not what we were looking for."

Cal blinked, trying to comprehend the image seared into his retinas, his hand still resting on the cool metal of the handle. The ring had quieted now, its light dimming to a faint glimmer. There was still charge in the ring.

The mana requirement seemed to be a threshold, not a cost, though he doubted he had enough for another attempt.

There was no retreat; the way back was barred by necessity, by danger. The only path lay forward, through that door…

"Let's give them a moment," Elena suggested, her voice strained, trying to regain some semblance of control over the situation—and her own blushed face.

Jaxon's fingers twitched. An impish grin tugged at his lips. Before anyone could stop him, he cracked the door open again, just enough so his voice could go through. “Jenna! Put on some fucking clothes!" His voice, loud and brash, cut through the hush that had settled over the group.

A snort escaped from Jenna, her laughter ringing out even as she scrabbled for something—anything—to cover herself. The dwarf, caught mid-embrace, could be heard giggling and apologizing profusely.

The group stood in silence, then a cacophony of stifled chuckles and snickers bubbled up, shattering the tension like thin ice underfoot. They shared looks, eyes darting from one to another—a silent conversation in glances. Each expression was a cocktail of amusement, disbelief, and the dawning realization of necessity.

Cal knew the inside of that room. The interior was the “lifeboat”. This was not an escape.

“Shit”