Elias sighed, already regretting this. "Of course it is."

  Desippe chuckled. “Oh, come now. You’ve been through worse, haven’t you?”

  “Not the point,” he muttered. “Just tell me.”

  She motioned toward the canopy, where two elders were already waiting—one of them, a familiar visage. “Remember what Elder Rhyx researched?”

  “…something about odd things?”

  “Correct.” She nodded. “You will be helping with them.”

  “Does that mean…?” He asked incredulously.

  “Yes. You will be working directly under the Elder.”

  He sighed, dragging a hand down his face. “Great.”

  She smirked. “Glad you’re excited.”

  “I wouldn’t call it that.” He glanced up at the canopy, where Elder Rhyx stood watching. “He really creeps me out.”

  “You don’t have much of a choice.”

  “I know…” He said, shaking his head. “Well, let’s get going then.”

  Desippe grinned, fangs flashing. “That’s the spirit, human.”

  Then she and the rest of the chucklers suddenly shot off into the canopy, leaving him alone.

  He watched them swing and hop from branch to branch, before turning to Primus and saying. “Well bud, guess we’re gonna have to catch up somehow…” He paused and looked around, only to see a stone platform being lowered from a pulley system.

  “Guess we’re taking that.”

  With that, the human and golem duo stepped onto the platform, ascending into the heart of the treetop village.

  “A dungeon?!”

  Elias stared at Rhyx, waiting for him to say just kidding. Maybe crack a dry, unsettling joke. Something. Anything.

  Rhyx just met his gaze, unblinking.

  “…You’re serious,” He muttered.

  The elder gave a slow nod.

  He exhaled. “Alright. I have questions. First, why is there a dungeon here? From what I remember of this planet, there aren’t supposed to be any dungeons.”

  Rhyx clasped his hands behind his back, his tone eerily calm. “That is what we believed as well. Until around a month ago.”

  The other elder, the one Elias didn’t recognize, finally spoke. His voice was deep, rough like stone grinding against itself. “A rift appeared. Deep in the jungle. It is not the same as the records.”

  Elias frowned. “So… it's not a dungeon?”

  “Not exactly.” Rhyx’s expression darkened. “We think it was one originally—”

  “—But something odd happened to it.” The other elder interjected.

  “…”

  “…”

  Rhyx brought his hands up to his temples and massaged them. “Brother…”

  The other elder grinned, clearly enjoying himself. “What? I’m helping.”

  Rhyx exhaled slowly. “Elias, meet Elder Myrin. He’s in charge of scouting.”

  Elias gave Myrin a once-over. The elder was leaner than Rhyx, but his presence still carried weight—like a coiled predator. His grin, though? That was the grin of someone who found amusement in the suffering of others.

  ‘Fantastic. Another one.’

  He forced a tight smile. “Pleasure.”

  Myrin’s grin widened. “Oh, it will be.”

  He immediately turned back to Rhyx. “So, about this rift thing?”

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  Myrin clapped him on the shoulder. “You’re going inside to investigate!”

  “Of course I am.” He didn’t even turn his head. “And by investigate you mean?”

  Myrin’s grin returned. “Figure out if it wants to kill us all.”

  “Great.”

  Desippe from behind him, finally said. “It will be a good experience for you, human.”

  He just sighed and exchanged a glance with Primus off to the side—not that the golem could return one. “That’s comforting.”

  Myrin grinned. “That’s the spirit.”

  Rhyx, as unreadable as ever, just said, “We leave at dawn.”

  The group arrived at the border—where the normal, lush green forest abruptly gave way to something else.

  The trees ahead were pale, their leaves sickly and curled inward. Roots coiled in unnatural spirals, moving and shifting—making the ground look as if it was breathing.

  Elias stopped at the edge, taking it all in.

  “That’s… definitely not normal.”

  Myrin, standing beside him, grinned. “Oh, it gets worse.”

  He exhaled, rubbing his temples. “Of course it does.”

  They walked deeper into the twisted forest. Things got worse and worse. Leaves completely rolling into themselves. Tree trunks becoming almost translucent. Roots writhing and actively trying to get close to them.

  All attacks were stopped by Rhyx with his control of the earth, while Myrin stuck close to the Matriarch.

  ‘Huh. Now that I think about it, why is a Tier Two the Matriarch?’

  He kept his pace as he walked, eyes scanning their surroundings. The deeper they went, the more wrong it felt.

  Not just the trees. Not just the roots. But the air.

  It pressed against his skin, thick and heavy, like it was watching. Like the forest itself was waiting.

  Another root lashed toward them—fast, almost intentional.

  Rhyx barely moved. A sharp pulse of mana rippled outward, and the earth responded. A jagged spike of stone erupted from the ground, skewering the root mid-air. It twitched violently before going still.

  Elias exhaled. “That’s normal, right?”

  Myrin grinned. “Nope.”

  “Cool. Loving this place so far.”

  They kept moving.

  And yet—his mind drifted back to her.

  Desippe, walking calmly at the front of the group.

  She hadn’t lifted a finger. Hadn’t needed to. Even the trees—the things that shouldn’t be alive—seemed to avoid her.

  That didn’t make sense.

  ‘Why is a Tier Two the Matriarch?’

  The thought wouldn’t leave him.

  Strength ruled here. That much was clear. Desippe wasn’t weak, she was even much stronger than him, but compared to Rhyx? Compared to Myrin? The power gap was obvious.

  And yet, they followed her.

  Respected her.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Isn’t Myrin supposed to be the scout?’ He frowned. ‘Why’s he acting like a bodyguard?’

  He glanced at Rhyx. “So—” He said, trying to sound casual. “Not to pry, but… Desippe.”

  Rhyx’s didn’t even glance over. “What about her?”

  Elias gestured vaguely. “You know. Tier Two. Matriarch. Doesn’t really make sense with you guys around.”

  Myrin barked a laugh. “Oh, I like him.”

  Desippe kept walking. Didn’t even turn. “And what do you think, human?”

  He hesitated.

  He could take a guess. Maybe it wasn’t raw strength. Maybe it was politics. Maybe it was some bloodline thing—which seemed most likely since she was the only one with the white streaks on her fur.

  But none of those felt right.

  So, instead, he said, “I don’t know.”

  Desippe finally glanced at him. There was something sharp in her gaze—searching.

  Then, she smiled.

  “Good.”

  He blinked.

  “Stop.” Rhyx’s voice echoed out. “We’re here.”

  Elias turned—and froze.

  The rift wasn’t just a tear in reality.

  It was wrong.

  Dungeons were disturbances in space—they usually looked like a spherical distortion that kept on collapsing in on itself. But this was far, far, far, from that.

  It pulsed like it was alive. And with each rhythmic beating, it expanded ever so slightly.

  He looked to the others and saw that the Matriarch had already retreated a few meters from them. Myrin was at her side—without his usual grin.

  Looking over at Primus that silently reciprocated—he felt a tad bit safer.

  He exhaled, turning back to the rift and calmed himself. “Okay. So. How do we do this?”

  Myrin shrugged. “You and the big guy walk in.”

  Elias shot him a look. “That would be straight up suicide.”

  Rhyx ignored them, kneeling near the rift, running his fingers along the broken ground. “It’s not stable.”

  Desippe nodded. “We send in the human first.”

  He threw up his hands. “Why is that always the answer?!”

  Myrin chuckled. “Because you don’t die properly.”

  “That may be true but—”

  Desippe crossed her arms and eyed him. “You’ve hesitated at every step, human. So tell me—are you afraid?”

  He felt a vein pop in his head. “OF COURSE I’m afraid!” His voice rising. “A Tier Two and a pair of Tier Threes would rather send a human they barely know to investigate something that is definitely out of his depth than actually doing the job themselves!”

  His voice echoed through the twisted clearing, and for a moment, no one spoke.

  Then—

  Myrin laughed.

  A full-bodied, genuine laugh, not his usual entertained chuckle.

  “Oh, I really like him.”

  Elias clenched his fists. “Glad someone’s enjoying this.”

  Rhyx, still crouched by the rift, finally looked up. “We’re not sending you in because we can’t handle it.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “Then why?”

  Desippe, unfazed by his outburst, spoke plainly. “Because this rift.” She said pointing at it, then at him. “And you are both anomalies.”

  He blinked. “Excuse me?”

  Rhyx stood, dusting his hands off. “Because of the tendency for essence to merge here, we need to be cautious of what we kill.” He looked him in the eye. “While you, on the other hand, can somehow resist it.”

  “You not being completely immune to it and being able to regenerate even your soul is perfect for this.” Desippe said. “Once you come out, we’ll be able to see what kind of effects the essence of anything inside has.”

  Elias opened his mouth. Closed it. Then threw up his hands. “So I’m just the test dummy.”

  Desippe smiled. “You’re catching on.”

  “Ugh.” He groaned. “I hate it here.”

  Primus, ever silent, stepped forward.

  Elias sighed. “Fine. But if I die—”

  “You probably won’t.” Desippe interjected.

  “…Fine, but you have to answer at least THREE of my questions when I come out.”

  “It will depend on what you find.”

  Sighing again, he nodded.

  Elias inhaled slowly, steadying himself. He glanced at Primus. “Alright, big guy. Ready?”

  The golem didn’t respond.

  Taking one last look at the others—Rhyx watching, Myrin grinning, Desippe unreadable—he exhaled.

  Then, with a single step, he walked into the rift.

  And the world collapsed.

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