The passage was narrow, forcing them to move single file. Dust swirled in the light of their torches. They pressed forward in tense silence, ears straining for any hint of movement beyond their own.

  Shortly, the passage turned a sharp corner and led them back in the direction of the trapped corridor, eventually spilling back into it.

  Erin stopped, holding up a fist.

  Otter nearly walked into her. “What is it?” he whispered.

  She pointed to a small alcove carved into the rock, just a few feet ahead. It was barely noticeable, the entrance partially obscured by a collapsed portion of the wall. Inside, scattered debris littered the floor—shredded scraps of cloth, the remnants of a burned-out torch, and something that looked like a book.

  Seeing no sign of further traps, Erin led them into the alcove.

  The book’s cover was cracked leather, worn and peeling at the edges. The pages, though yellowed, had mostly held together—except for the ones near the middle, which were torn and darkened with rust-colored stains.

  Jasper crouched beside it, flipping it open with careful fingers. “Looks like a journal.”

  Otter knelt beside him. The writing was hurried, the ink smeared in places. He skimmed through the first few pages—mostly mundane notes on supplies and terrain—until something caught his eye. A section near the end, written in jagged, uneven script.

  He read aloud:

  "The relic is close. We can feel it. The air hums with its power, but the others are uneasy. They speak of shadows moving when no one is looking. Of whispers in the dark. I tell them it is only their nerves. That we must press on."

  Otter turned the page. The next few lines were more frantic, the ink heavier, like the writer had pressed too hard.

  "We were wrong. Gods help us, we were wrong. They are real. They were waiting. The guardians—"

  The rest of the page was smeared beyond recognition.

  A cold silence settled over the group.

  Milo exhaled. “That’s…not great.”

  Erin crossed her arms, her jaw tight. “Guardians?”

  Otter scanned the next few pages, but there was nothing else. The entries stopped abruptly. The last page had deep creases, as if someone had clenched the book tightly before dropping it.

  Jasper let out a sharp breath. “So, not only are we looking for a missing expedition, but now we’re dealing with some unknown threat guarding this relic.”

  “Looks that way,” Otter muttered.

  Sage ran a hand over the bloodstains. “Our mission is;t to retrieve the relic. It’s to bring back survivors.”

  Otter’s fingers tightened around the journal. The weight of it was heavier than it should have been. He glanced up at the others. “We keep moving?”

  Erin nodded, determination hardening her features. “We keep moving.”

  Otter tucked the journal into his backpack, thinking it might be the only thing left of the missing expedition. At least they hadn't found any bodies yet.

  They had been walking for nearly twenty minutes since finding the journal, each of them lost in their own thoughts about what guardians might be waiting for them deeper in the ruins. It had been over an hour since they’d entered the simulation. They were making progress, but Otter wondered if they were making it fast enough. It was tempting to pick up the pace, but he knew doing so would be reckless.

  The passage ahead widened into a cavernous chamber, its high ceiling lost in shadow. Jagged stone formations jutted from the floor, and remnants of crumbling pillars hinted at some long-forgotten structure buried beneath the Academy. A cracked fountain stood at the center, its dry basin layered in dust and debris.

  Otter’s team hesitated at the entrance, fanning out instinctively. The room was open, but something about it felt… wrong.

  Erin was the first to spot them. “Company,” she muttered.

  Across the chamber, partially obscured by a pile of rubble, stood five figures. Lyle, Torrin, and three others Otter didn’t know.

  Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.

  Jasper tensed beside him. “Get ready.”

  For a long moment, no one moved. The tension thickened, pressing against Otter’s chest. Then Lyle smiled, lazy and knowing.

  “Well, well," he drawled. "Look who made it this far.”

  Otter rolled his shoulders, forcing himself to stay calm. “Lyle.”

  Torrin stepped forward, cracking his knuckles. “You look like you’re having a good run, Bennett. Shame if that changed.”

  Jasper crossed his arms. “You looking for a fight?”

  Lyle gasped. “Us? No, no. We’re just making conversation.” His gaze flicked over their team, calculating. “It’s always interesting to see who’s still in play.”

  Something was off. Lyle’s tone was too sugary—like he already knew something they didn’t.

  “We should go,” Sage murmured, her voice quiet but firm.

  “Agreed,” Erin said, gripping her bow.

  Lyle took a step back, making a grand gesture toward the chamber. “By all means. Don’t let us keep you.”

  Jasper narrowed his eyes. “Why are you being so cooperative?”

  Torrin chuckled. “Relax, we’re just catching our breath.”

  Before anyone could react, Jasper took a step forward—

  Click.

  A deep, mechanical grind echoed through the chamber. The cracked fountain in the middle of the cavern shuddered violently.

  Otter’s breath caught in his throat. That wasn’t good.

  With a shuddering groan, the fountain collapsed inward. Dust exploded into the air as something beneath the stone moved.

  A pair of glowing, amber eyes flickered to life within the rubble.

  Then, the construct rose.

  It was massive—easily eight feet tall, its body an intricate lattice of bronze and steel, its limbs reinforced with thick, mechanical plates. Ancient engravings glowed faintly along its arms, pulsing with stored energy. The grinding of metal against metal echoed through the chamber as the construct lurched to life. What had once been an inanimate collection of rusted gears and plating now stood tall, its singular glowing eye flaring to life with a pulsing red light.

  Its massive, clawed arms whirred as ancient servos engaged. Dust cascaded from its shoulders, and the ground trembled as it took its first thundering step forward.

  Otter’s eyes bulged. “What is that thing?”

  “Level 3 Construct,” hissed Milo between clenched teeth. Otter shot him a questioning look. “I have an Identify special ability.”

  Otter’s pulse pounded. “Run?”

  Jasper drew his sword. “Fight.” With a snarl, he surged ahead, his longsword flashing in the dim light as he brought it down in a mighty arc toward the construct’s center mass. The blade met metal with a deafening clang, sending vibrations up Jasper’s arms.

  “No good! It’s too thick!” he barked as he yanked his weapon back.

  The construct pivoted unnaturally fast, swinging one of its massive arms at Jasper. He barely had time to throw himself to the side before the clawed limb smashed into the floor where he had just been standing, leaving a crater in the stone.

  “Okay, okay—uh, new plan!” Milo stammered, already pulling mana into his hands. He pointed toward the creature’s feet and muttered an incantation. “Grease!”

  A slick, shimmering pool of oil spread across the floor beneath the construct’s feet. The moment it took another lumbering step forward, its massive metal foot slipped, throwing its balance off. Gears screeched in protest as it staggered, trying to adjust.

  “Nice one!” Erin shouted, knocking an arrow.

  Otter darted toward the nearest column, assessing the battlefield. The construct was off-balance, but that wouldn’t last long. It was too heavy—if it managed to regain its footing, it would be just as dangerous as before.

  Sage’s voice cut through the noise. “We need to disable it somehow! There must be a weak point!”

  Otter scanned the construct’s frame, taking in every bolt and plate, every joint and seam. Then he saw it—wires and gears exposed beneath its left arm, still rusted and brittle.

  “There! Under the arm! We have to get in close to damage it!” he called.

  “I’ll cover you!” Erin loosed an arrow aimed at the weak spot. The shaft struck home, but barely embedded itself in the rusted metal. The construct flinched but kept moving.

  A sharp whirring filled the chamber, and a hidden compartment in the construct’s chest slid open. A thin nozzle extended outward, a faint orange glow beginning to pulse from within.

  “Oh. That’s not good,” Erin muttered as she dove to the side.

  A jet of scorching fire erupted from the nozzle, bathing the area where Erin had stood in searing heat. She barely managed to evade the flames, her cloak catching at the edges. She hit the ground in a roll, frantically patting the singed fabric.

  Sage’s hands moved in a swift, practiced motion. “Shield of Faith!”

  A shimmer of golden light surrounded Jasper as he charged in again, bringing his sword down in a brutal downward swing toward the construct’s knee joint. Metal buckled under the sheer force, and the construct staggered again, its movements stuttering. But it retaliated, knocking Jasper aside with a swipe of its arm. But the attack caused it to stumble on the slick lubricant at its feet once more.

  Jasper grunted as he hit the ground, but quickly regained his feet.

  Otter’s mind raced. He grabbed a loose chunk of stone from the broken floor, weighed it in his hands, and launched it directly at the construct’s chest.

  The stone struck the exposed nozzle. A sharp crack sounded as something inside snapped.

  The construct stuttered again. The fire nozzle sparked once—then sputtered out completely.

  “It worked!” Otter shouted.

  With one last bellow, Jasper swung his sword in a final, crushing blow to the knee joint. The construct toppled, crashing to the floor in a heap of useless metal and broken gears. Its glowing eye flickered once—then went dark.

  Silence filled the chamber, broken only by the team’s heavy breathing.

  “Well,” Milo said, stepping over a piece of rubble. “That was terrifying.”

  Jasper sheathed his sword, shaking dust from his hair. He glared across the chamber—

  But Lyle and his team were already gone.

  Otter groaned. “Cowards.”

  Erin let out a breath. “I hate those guys.”

  Otter nudged one of the construct’s shattered pieces with his foot. “Not as much as I hate this thing.”

  Jasper wiped sweat from his brow. “You and me both.”

  Otter exhaled slowly, still catching his breath. Their first real fight, and they had won.

  But something told him the real challenge was still ahead.