The air was thick with dust and lingering golden light. The dungeon walls, once ancient and unyielding, now bore cracks, like reality itself had been rattled. Faint blue torches flickered, struggling to hold their glow.
And in the middle of it all—
Kieran.
Still gripping his dagger. Still trying to wrap his head around what just happened.
No Guardian. No loot. No remains. Just... nothing.
His mind raced. Who the hell was that guy? That wasn't a skill. That wasn't even a cheat. That was something else entirely.
And then—
BOOM.
The dungeon doors burst open.
A gust of cold wind swept through the chamber as five figures stepped in, their silhouettes backlit by the flickering torches.
They didn't look like normal players.
They felt different.
Jack was the first to step forward, golden staff resting lazily on his shoulder. His grin was sharp, almost amused, like he had walked in on something interesting. His tail flicked behind him.
"Well, well… What do we have here?"
