The Fall (2)
An alarm was blaring through the control room.
The crystal orb had gone dark, as though the signal itself had died.
The screens that had been displaying the students' movements only moments before were now swallowed by tar-like blots, rendering nothing but shapeless black.
"How many people are still inside the dungeon?"
"Everyone has evacuated except Team Two."
"And Team Two?"
"Unaccounted for. The lower levels are beyond the reach of the monitoring wards. The crystal orb is completely unresponsive."
The supervising professor's face hardened.
"Then how are we tracking their position?"
"We're relying on a single signal stone — the one assigned to the team leader."
The assistant pointed at the magic board.
Amid the black static of corrupted mana, a single red dot flickered unsteadily.
"Who's carrying the signal stone?"
"Theodore Graham, Professor. He was registered as team leader before entry."
"So that one dot is the only indication of where Team Two is?"
"Yes. As of right now, that's all we have."
A heavy silence settled over the control room.
A signal stone was not a rescue device.
It was neither an enchanted trinket one could shatter in an emergency to summon a rescue team, nor anything of the sort — at best, it was a marker that reported a team's reference coordinates whenever they strayed from the practice zone or slipped beyond the sight of the monitoring wards.
Under ordinary circumstances, it would have been nothing more than a supplementary tool. But not today.
With the crystal orb dead and the lower floors beyond the wards' reach, that tiny red dot was the only thing telling them where the students were.
Just then, the red dot lurched sideways.
"The coordinates are moving."
"Is someone walking?"
"It doesn't look like a normal walking pace, Professor. It looks more like something is dragging it."
The professors' expressions hardened one by one.
"And if we lose the signal stone?"
"We lose Team Two entirely."
A short, suffocating silence fell.
"How long until the rescue team can deploy?"
"The lower-level coordinates don't exist on any of our current maps. We're still computing a new route."
"Damn it."
Gritting his teeth, the supervising professor glared at the magic board, then traced the upper-level map with the tip of his staff.
"What if we simply shatter the floor outright?"
Every gaze in the control room swung toward him.
"We punch a hole straight down from the upper level. If the lower floors aren't on the maps, then we have no choice but to force a passage through at the nearest point."
"If we're careless, we could bury the students alive."
Another professor shot the idea down immediately.
"We don't even know the lower level's structure. The moment we break through the upper floor, there's a real chance the caverns below collapse with it. And right now Team Two's position hangs on a single signal stone. The margin of error is barely a whisper — one miscalculation and we'd be dumping rubble directly on top of their heads."
"So what, we just sit here and wait?"
"I'm not saying we wait. I'm saying we need to narrow the coordinates first."
One small light flickering anxiously between waves of black static on the magic board.
That was all that remained of Team Two.
"Tch. Then we have no real options."
The supervising professor tightened his grip on his staff.
"For now, cross-reference the upper-level structure against the signal stone's coordinates and find a point we can breach safely. Rescue team, prepare the anti-collapse wards. All barrier-magic professors, stand by."
"Yes, sir."
"Wait — the coordinates are moving again!"
At the assistant's cry, every professor turned to the board at once.
The red dot had swung violently sideways.
"Graham is the one holding the signal stone, correct?"
"According to the entry records, yes."
"Then is Graham the one moving right now?"
No one could answer that.
The crystal orb offered nothing, still swallowed by its black blots. There was no way to tell whether that red dot was following a student, or moving on its own, discarded and adrift.
"And what if the stone is moving separately?"
The moment someone voiced it, the room turned ice-cold.
It was the worst-case assumption.
The signal stone had been torn from its owner — or else something that was not a student at all was carrying it through the dark.
"Don't say things like that until you can confirm them."
The supervising professor's voice dropped low.
"Right now, that dot is all we have. If we admit that possibility, then we've already lost the students below completely."
Just then, the control room door opened.
"Then I suppose we'd better move before you do lose them."
When the professors turned their heads, Serena Arzen was standing in the doorway.
"Student Arzen. This room is off-limits to students."
"I know."
"Leave. Immediately."
"I'd rather not."
A crease formed between the supervising professor's brows.
"This situation is serious. It's no time for games."
"Which is exactly why I'm here."
Serena turned her gaze to the magic board.
A red dot trembling in the black static.
Team Two's last coordinates.
"That's Roseline's position, isn't it?"
"That is not a matter we'll be explaining to students."
"If you're planning to break through the floor, I can help."
Silence fell over the control room once more.
"And what is that supposed to mean?"
"It means I can bind it without letting it collapse."
A slender thread spilled from the tip of Serena's finger.
A silver thread that barely seemed to drink in the light.
Myeongsa — her life threads.
"Before you punch through the upper floor, you just have to lash the surrounding structure in place. Use it alongside your anti-collapse wards, and at the very least you can keep everything from dumping on the students' heads. And honestly — how many people besides me can do work that precise?"
The professors exchanged glances.
It wasn't a wrong argument. The problem was whether it was safe to entrust such a task to a student.
The supervising professor answered firmly.
"We cannot commit a student's strength to a rescue operation."
"Then you'll wait around and lose the signal stone?"
"The rescue team is preparing."
"And while they prepare, that dot keeps moving."
Serena pointed at the board.
The red dot lurched hard to one side again — and the smile drained from Serena's face.
"You're running out of time."
"Student Arzen."
"If we're too late, that's on your heads. Can any of you bear that?"
Her voice came out impossibly cold, and only then did several of the professors in the room truly look at her again.
"I'm not asking to break the floor myself. You professors will do that. I'll be the one binding the collapse."
The supervising professor didn't answer, so Serena took another step forward.
"Roseline is down there."
"It isn't only Student Veloa down there."
"I know."
A brief silence passed before the supervising professor clenched his jaw and gave the order.
"Rescue team."
"Yes, sir."
"Prepare a forced breach of the upper floor. Anchor the coordinates to the signal stone. Barrier division, deploy the anti-collapse wards."
Then he turned to Serena.
"You will follow command, Student Arzen. Act on your own, and you will be restrained on the spot."
Serena smiled.
"Of course."
She answered obediently enough, but no one in the room believed a word of it.
On the magic board, the red dot shuddered once more, and Serena watched it as she slowly curled her hand into a fist.
Theodore could die for all she cared.
That had always been his fate.
But not Roseline.
Not yet.
She had never given permission for her to disappear like that.
***
Roseline's fingertips grazed Theodore's hand and slipped past. She couldn't hold on.
"AAAAAGH!"
Theodore's scream was dragged into the darkness, fading little by little until it was gone.
Her body moved before her mind did — a step forward.
"Damn it!"
The black thing was still flowing along the ground in the direction it had swallowed Theodore. It hadn't vanished entirely — somewhere beyond the dark, a faint red glow wavered.
The signal stone.
The only marker that would tell anyone above where they were.
If they lost that, no one up there would ever find this place.
"Chloe! Take Marien and fall back!"
"What about you?!"
"I have to get the signal stone!"
There was no time to wait for an answer.
Roseline plunged into the darkness with her sword in hand. Her ankle screamed with every step, and her side pulled tight with each breath — but she couldn't stop.
How long did she run like that?
A rush of displaced air, and black tendrils burst from the darkness.
Roseline dropped low and swung; her blade split the black mass clean through. But before the severed piece could even hit the floor, it slithered back together, reforming.
"What the hell is this thing...?"
A sickening stench flooded her nose.
Black as tar, and reeking like a rotting swamp.
"P-please! Save me!"
Theodore's voice.
Roseline raised her light stone high.
He was half-swallowed already. The black thing had coiled around his legs and waist, and only the signal stone hanging from his chest guard still glimmered faintly red.
"Draw your sword!"
"What?"
"Draw your sword! You need to hold on—"
"How am I supposed to fight that thing!"
Theodore shrieked and thrashed, and the tendrils only wound around him tighter.
Roseline clenched her teeth and threw herself at it.
Her sword cleaved through the black mass. There was a dull, weighty resistance in her hand, but nothing like cutting flesh. It was like carving through thick sludge — like tearing through congealed oil.
The tendrils squeezing Theodore's body loosened slightly.
"Get up!"
Roseline hauled on his arm.
"Come on!"
"No— let go! It's coming back!"
"Then we have to MOVE!"
Theodore staggered, his legs apparently giving out beneath him. Roseline moved to support him — and in that instant, he shoved her shoulder hard.
"Get in front! You block it!"
The moment Roseline's body rocked off balance—
A black tendril whipped past her, a hair's breadth away.
She barely dodged, but where it grazed her forearm, a burning numbness spread.
"Viscount Graham!"
"You fix this! You were the one acting so high and mighty!"
"Now is not the time—"
The black tendril reared up again.
Roseline had no breath left for words. She shoved Theodore aside and raised her blade. The tendril slammed into it, and an impact heavy enough to numb her wrist to the bone crashed through her body.
As things stood, this was not an opponent she could beat.
Dragging Theodore out with the black thing at her back would be impossible.
But she had to take the signal stone.
The instant the thought formed, a roar erupted behind her.
Kugugung—
"Roseline! Help us!"
Chloe's scream cracked through the air, and Roseline's gaze wavered.
She had to go back right now — but the moment she took her eyes off it, the tendril might skewer her where she stood.
The red glow flickered on Theodore's chest guard.
Roseline clenched her teeth.
"Give me your sword!"
"What are you doing?!"
Roseline reached for his hip.
"Hey, what the—"
Before Theodore could finish, she had already drawn his sword.
The balance was a disaster compared to her own. The ornamentation was garishly excessive and the grip slick — but this was no time to be picky.
A black tendril came flying out of the darkness.
Roseline twisted her body and stepped forward — not to dodge, but to plant the sword.
"Are you insane?!"
Theodore's shriek exploded behind her.
She didn't answer. She swung Theodore's sword straight into the oncoming tendril.
Thuck.
The blade punched clean through the black mass.
A sticky, heavy sensation flooded her fingertips. Instead of tearing apart, the tendril coiled around the blade, writhing — and Roseline, gritting her teeth, drove the sword all the way down into the floor.
Kaang!
The tip bit into the stone floor.
The black tendril, impaled on the blade, was pinned to the ground. It writhed as if it would tear free at any moment — but for a breath or two, it bought them time.
"Run!"
"My— my sword!"
"Is that really what matters right now?! LEAVE it!"
Roseline seized Theodore by the collar and dragged him along.
Behind them, the black tendril lashed this way and that, and the buried sword groaned. Theodore stared blankly at the spot where his blade stood pinned — then, as the tendril writhed again, he swallowed a scream and stumbled faster.
"Faster!"
The sound of Theodore's sword starting to bend under the strain rang out behind them.
It wouldn't hold long. But it was enough to run.
"Chloe! Marien!"
No answer.
Roseline's heart plummeted.
She shoved Theodore down and ran.
Her injured ankle twisted, but there was no room left in her to feel the pain.
The light of her stone wavered in her hand.
In the darkness, crushed stone dust was settling slowly.
I have to go back.
It's not too late yet.
Not yet.
If she didn't believe that, she didn't think her legs would carry her at all.