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Chapter Five

  After meticulously analyzing his augmented status window, Argos left the inn with a strange sense of determination. The weight of new revelations about his existence in Dauntless Online simmered beneath the surface—a sharp undercurrent to his otherwise steady demeanor. Beta tester 053 wasn’t just a title anymore; it was a tether to a history he couldn’t recall. And Ryker? An enigma that demanded unraveling.

  The bustling streets of Emberreach’s central square were a welcome distraction. Players and NPCs mingled seamlessly, creating the vibrant tapestry that made the game feel alive. Argos weaved through the crowd, his spear strapped securely across his back. Each step brought him closer to the group he had begrudgingly decided to trust—for now.

  Torin’s boisterous laugh cut through the din like a blade, guiding Argos to an outdoor table near the tavern. Torin, Maeve, and Lyle were already deep in conversation, their inventory screens flickering faintly as they compared loot.

  “Hey, Argos!” Torin’s grin widened as he spotted him. “Changed your mind about the solo life, huh?”

  Maeve’s smirk carried her usual playful sharpness. “What’s this? Our resident lone wolf actually decided to join the pack?”

  “Something like that,” Argos said, pulling out the map fragment he’d unearthed in the aqueducts. He slapped it onto the table with a satisfying thud. “I found this. Figured it might lead to something worth splitting.”

  Lyle adjusted his glasses, leaning forward to scrutinize the fragment. His meticulous nature was apparent in the way his fingers traced the intricate markings. “This… seems to connect to the northern ruins. These symbols indicate a network of subterranean pathways.”

  “Hidden areas, huh?” Torin leaned back, folding his arms as he regarded Argos with curiosity. “That’s a bold find. How’d you stumble on this? Luck, or instinct?”

  “Call it… calculated curiosity,” Argos replied, his tone casual. “The aqueducts were a pain, but they paid off.”

  Maeve’s eyes gleamed with interest. “You ran the aqueducts solo? Either you’re crazy, or you’ve got more guts than I pegged you for.”

  “Probably both,” Argos quipped. “Found a rat the size of a small house down there. Real friendly.”

  Torin’s laugh erupted again, loud and unabashed. “You’ve got stories, I’ll give you that. Alright, I’m in. A hidden area sounds like my kind of treasure hunt.”

  Maeve crossed her arms, her smirk softening into something more sincere. “But why team up now? You seemed pretty dead-set on going it alone.”

  Argos hesitated, weighing his words carefully. “Let’s just say I’ve realized the value of… cooperative survival. Plus, a map like this? Too much for one person.”

  “Fair enough,” Maeve said, her smile returning to its sharp edge. “Let’s see if you can keep up.”

  Lyle cleared his throat, drawing their attention. “If we’re forming a proper party, I suggest we establish clear roles and guidelines.”

  Maeve groaned theatrically. “Ugh, here comes the rules.”

  Ignoring her, Lyle adjusted his glasses again. “Share loot fairly. Stick to the plan. Communicate during combat. Anything else?”

  Argos shrugged. “Sounds reasonable.”

  “Then it’s settled,” Torin said, extending a hand. “Welcome to the team, Argos.”

  As Argos shook Torin’s hand, a flicker of something—hesitation? Trust?—crossed his expression. “Let’s make this worth the risk.”

  Before the group could continue planning, Argos hesitated, glancing at the glowing menu in his peripheral vision. The accumulated stat points and skill point hovered like an unfinished task, nagging him.

  "Hang on a second," he said, opening the interface. The options expanded before him, the glowing tabs highlighting his choices. His eyes flicked across the screen as he muttered, "Might as well take care of this."

  First, he allocated one stat point to Strength, aiming to add more power to his attacks. The second point went to Dexterity to sharpen his agility and precision. The confirmation messages appeared one after the other:

  Next, he focused on the skill point. After considering his options, he selected Balanced Stance. The ability would give him the edge in battle, improving his defense and mobility. Another message popped up:

  Closing the menu, Argos glanced up to find Maeve watching him, her smirk as sharp as ever. "What’d you pick?"

  "Just making sure I can stay on my feet longer," he said, his tone casual. "In case things get messy."

  Maeve raised an eyebrow. "You’re already thinking ahead. I like it."

  Torin grinned, slapping Argos on the back. "Good call. Whatever you picked, let’s hope it helps. We’ll need every advantage we can get."

  The northern ruins loomed ahead, a stark contrast to Emberreach’s vibrant streets. Overgrown and desolate, the ruins carried an eerie silence that even Maeve refrained from breaking with her usual quips. At the heart of the abandoned district stood a crumbling gate, its surface etched with ancient runes that glowed faintly in the dim light.

  Lyle examined the markings, his voice barely above a whisper. “This matches the map fragment’s symbols. There should be a concealed passage here.”

  Torin tested the gate, his strength causing the rusted hinges to groan in protest. “Looks like it hasn’t been touched in years.”

  Argos stood at the entrance of the Forgotten Catacombs, flanked by Torin, Maeve, and Lyle. The air was thick with a musty, stale scent that seemed to cling to their gear. The ancient stone archway loomed overhead, its carvings faded with time, yet faintly glowing runes suggested some lingering magical presence. A text box popped up in front of them:

  [System Message: Entering ‘Forgotten Catacombs’. Warning: High density of traps and enemies detected. Proceed with caution.]

  “Of course it’s going to be a trap-ridden nightmare. It’s like this game wants me to suffer,” Argos muttered, gripping his spear tightly. Torin chuckled behind him, his massive greatsword resting on his shoulder.

  “Suffer? This is what we signed up for,” Torin replied. Maeve rolled her eyes, adjusting her bowstring while Lyle inspected the runes with a faint glow emanating from his staff.

  “Let’s just make sure we get through this in one piece,” Maeve said, scanning the corridor ahead. “I don’t want to end up like the last party that came through here.”

  The first corridor was narrow, lit intermittently by flickering sconces. The walls were lined with alcoves, each holding a skeletal figure in various states of decay. Argos took the lead, his Perception skill tingling faintly in the back of his mind before he even saw it. He raised a hand to halt the group.

  “Hold up,” he whispered. “Trap ahead.”

  The faint glimmer of thin wires stretched across the path caught his eye. He crouched and pointed to the nearly invisible tripwire. “Classic tripwire. Let’s see what happens if we mess with it.”

  Lyle stepped forward, his staff glowing softly. “Wait, let me disable it. If there’s a magical component, I’ll handle it.”

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  Lyle muttered an incantation, and the tripwire shimmered briefly before dissolving into harmless light. A muted click was followed by the whirring sound of darts launching into the walls.

  “Nice work,” Argos said. “Guess they didn’t plan for a mage with a brain.”

  The group moved cautiously, entering a wider chamber. As they stepped forward, the sound of stone grinding against stone echoed ominously. Skeletons began to rise from the ground, their empty eye sockets glowing with a faint blue light.

  [System Message: Combat initiated. Defeat the enemies to proceed.]

  Maeve nocked an arrow, her sharp eyes scanning for weak points. “I’ll take the archers in the back.”

  “Good,” Torin said with a grin, stepping forward. “I’ll handle the big ones.”

  Argos twirled his spear, adjusting his stance. “Guess that leaves me with the fodder.”

  The first skeleton lunged at Argos, its rusty sword scraping against the air. He dodged and drove his spear into its ribcage, the brittle bones shattering on impact. Torin barreled into a cluster of skeletons, his greatsword carving through them in wide arcs, while Maeve’s arrows found their marks with deadly precision. Lyle stood at the back, chanting spells that sent bursts of energy ripping through the skeletal ranks.

  As the last skeleton fell, the chamber’s glow dimmed slightly. Argos leaned on his spear, his stamina bar dipping visibly. The glowing runes on the far wall shifted, revealing a narrow passageway.

  [System Message: Minor loot acquired. ‘Rusty Amulet of the Forgotten’ added to inventory. Effects: None.]

  “Fantastic,” Argos muttered, pocketing the trinket. “Probably cursed.”

  “Don’t knock it until we know what it does,” Lyle said, inspecting the amulet with interest. “Could be useful.”

  The next area was a labyrinth of twisting corridors, each more claustrophobic than the last. Maeve’s sharp eyes spotted faint etchings on the ground as Argos’s Perception skill tingled again. “Trap tiles,” he said, pointing to the segmented floor marked with arcane symbols.

  “Puzzle time,” Argos sighed. “Anyone have notes on these glyphs?”

  “I do,” Lyle said, pulling out a battered journal. “Step only on the tiles with these markings,” he pointed to a symbol shaped like a crescent moon.

  After careful maneuvering, the group reached the end of the labyrinth, only to be greeted by a massive set of double doors.

  Argos stepped into the vast circular chamber alongside Torin, Maeve, and Lyle. The ground beneath them was composed of perfectly polished obsidian tiles that reflected the ominous green glow of the poisonous mists swirling above. The air was thick with decay, each breath filling their lungs with the sickly stench of rot. A heavy silence loomed over the group, broken only by the faint, wet squelching of movement coming from the far end of the room.

  A hulking figure lumbered into view, its grotesque form bloated and dripping with viscous green ichor. Patches of decayed flesh clung to its skeletal frame, and its jaw hung open, revealing rows of jagged, mismatched teeth. The ground sizzled where it stepped, each footprint leaving a smoking, toxic pool in its wake.

  A system prompt materialized before them:

  Argos tightened his grip on his Iron Spear, the weight of the moment settling in his chest.

  “Fire and holy damage,” he muttered under his breath. “Of course, because those are just lying around.”

  Torin, his massive shield at the ready, glanced back at the group. “Stick together. Lyle, you focus on buffs. Maeve, find an opening for ranged strikes. Argos, stay mobile.”

  The Putrid Colossus turned its gaze toward them, a guttural roar escaping its bloated chest. The sound reverberated through the chamber, shaking loose small chunks of stone from the ceiling. With a lurch, the boss began its charge, the ground beneath it quaking with every step.

  Maeve nocked an arrow, her bowstring singing as she released a shot aimed at the creature’s exposed abdomen. The arrow struck true, embedding itself in the rotting flesh, but the Colossus didn’t flinch. Instead, it swiped a massive arm in her direction, sending a wave of toxic ichor splashing toward the group.

  “Incoming!” Torin bellowed, raising his shield. He stepped in front of Maeve, bracing himself as the ichor splattered against his shield with a hiss. The toxic spray splashed over the edges, searing his armor and leaving him grimacing in pain.

  Argos darted to the side, narrowly avoiding the splash. “Lyle, stick close!” he called, positioning himself between the mage and the advancing boss. Lyle began chanting under his breath, a faint golden aura encasing the group as his buffs took hold.

  The Colossus reeled back, its bloated body convulsing as a noxious green light began to emanate from its chest. The group’s HUDs flashed with a warning:

  “Spread out!” Torin commanded, but the room left little room for escape. The edges of the chamber were already coated in poisonous sludge, and the Colossus seemed to swell with anticipation, its grotesque form trembling with barely contained energy.

  “It’s going to hit the whole room,” Lyle said, his voice tight with panic. “We can’t avoid it!”

  Torin planted his feet, his shield glowing faintly as he activated a defensive skill. “Then we don’t avoid it. Maeve, stay behind me!”

  Argos’s eyes darted to Lyle, who was frantically clutching his staff. With a resigned sigh, he positioned himself in front of the mage. “Guess you’re my responsibility now. Try not to die, alright?”

  The Colossus let out a final, ear-splitting roar as the green light burst from its body in a devastating wave. Torin roared in defiance, his shield absorbing the brunt of the attack as the poison splashed over him. Maeve crouched low behind him, her face pale as the toxic mist swirled around them.

  Argos braced himself, holding his spear in front of him like a barrier. The wave struck, a searing pain ripping through his body as the poison ate at his defenses. His HUD flashed red, a piercing chime accompanying a new system message:

  Argos’s breath caught in his throat. His health bar was a sliver, a single point separating him from oblivion. Panic surged as his vision blurred, every muscle screaming in agony. He staggered, barely staying upright.

  “Permanent deletion?” he muttered through gritted teeth, the words laced with disbelief and fear.

  Lyle, standing just behind him, caught a glimpse of the flashing message over Argos’s shoulder. His brow furrowed in confusion. “Deletion? What is that supposed to mean?”

  When the wave subsided, the chamber was eerily silent. Torin dropped to one knee, his shield arm trembling from the strain. Maeve emerged from behind him, coughing but unscathed. Lyle stumbled forward, his protective aura flickering weakly around him.

  Argos staggered but remained standing, his breathing labored. He shot a glare at Lyle, his voice hoarse. “You owe me... a health potion. Or five.”

  The Colossus, though visibly weakened, let out another roar, its bloated form convulsing as it prepared for another attack.

  “It’s not done yet,” Torin growled, forcing himself to stand. “Everyone, regroup. We’re ending this now.”

  Torin charged forward, his shield raised high despite the dents and acid burns it bore. Maeve darted to the side, her arrows flying in rapid succession, each one finding a weak spot in the Colossus’s bloated form. The boss reeled, its movements slowing as Lyle raised his staff, casting a bolt of searing light that seared through the poisonous mist surrounding it.

  Meanwhile, Argos remained rooted to the spot, his legs refusing to move. The system warning still flashed faintly in the corner of his vision, its dire implications paralyzing him. His hands trembled on the spear shaft as he tried to will himself forward, but his breath came in short, shallow bursts.

  “Come on, Argos,” he whispered to himself, his voice quaking. “Move. They need you.”

  Another roar from the Colossus jolted him as Torin slammed his Sword into the creature’s massive leg, creating an opening for Maeve to fire a perfectly aimed arrow into its chest. The Colossus’s health bar dipped dangerously low, yet Argos stayed frozen, his grip tightening as he struggled to muster the courage to act.

  Lyle glanced back mid-spell, confusion flashing across his face. “Argos! Snap out of it! We’ve almost got it!”

  Argos swallowed hard, his knuckles white as he gripped the spear. He took a shaky step forward, but the fear clung to him like a second skin. The fight raged on without him, the others pressing their advantage. Torin’s shield blocked another swipe of the Colossus’s arm, and Maeve’s arrows pierced through its decayed flesh like needles through cloth.

  Finally, with a deafening roar, the Putrid Colossus fell to its knees, its bloated form collapsing into a pool of bubbling green ichor. The chamber fell silent, save for the labored breathing of the group. Argos remained where he was, watching as the others stood victorious, their exhaustion evident.

  A system chime broke the quiet:

  Argos blinked as a list appeared in his HUD. Alongside the group’s shared gold and crafting materials, he noticed his personal rewards:

  “An antidote flask?” he muttered, eyeing the item description. “Not flashy, but I guess I’ll take it.”

  Torin leaned on his shield, catching his breath. “Everyone alright?”

  Maeve nodded, though she looked worn. “Mostly. That was… intense.”

  Lyle approached Argos, his brow furrowed. “What’s with that message I saw earlier? Deletion? That’s not normal, right?”

  Argos stiffened, his gaze dropping to the spear in his hands. “I… don’t know,” he said quietly, the lie heavy on his tongue. “Probably just a glitch.”

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