The next chamber was mercifully cooler. No molten rivers, no blistering air, just rough stone walls stretching into a ceiling so high the shadows swallowed it.
This was one of the few safe zones in the dungeon and safe zones often found a way to breed bad decisions.
The team stumbled through the archway like they'd just crawled out of hell, which, in Kurt's opinion, they basically had.
"Set up here," Rook ordered. "Thirty minutes. Eat, drink, patch yourselves up."
The fighters didn't need to be told twice. They dropped their packs and collapsed against the walls, pulling out rations and water. Emma planted herself against a pillar, arms crossed tight, looking like she was daring someone to breathe wrong near her.
Paul sat with his head in his hands, still shaking. Someone else was quietly crying. The fighter who'd been burned was having his arm rewrapped, teeth gritted against the pain.
Kurt clicked his lighter shut after lighting a cigarette, and the sparks curled around his fingers, becoming flames.
He stared at it, then concentrated, making the fire stretch, twist, and wrap around his knuckles in a small, swirling ribbon before he pinched it out.
"Interesting," he muttered under his breath.
"What's interesting?"
Kurt nearly jumped out of his skin. Lizzie had materialized at his elbow, eyes wide and she repeated. "What's interesting?" Tilting her head like a cat fascinated by a laser pointer.
"Pyrokinesis," Kurt said, holding up his hand and snapping his fingers. A small flame flickered to life above his thumb. "Can do much more than suppress flames."
Lizzie stared at the flame like it was the most fascinating thing she'd ever seen. Then her eyes snapped to his face with an intense searching stare.
"Alright!" She grabbed his arm suddenly. "Gotta make sure you're not falling apart. People fall apart sometimes. They look fine and then suddenly they're just—" She made a crumbling gesture with her fingers. "Gone."
She tugged him toward a corner of the chamber where the light was dimmer and Kurt glanced back at the others while being pulled away.
Rook was talking to the fighters, gesturing with that commanding presence of his. Emma stood a few paces away, watching him with that unreadable stare.
He raised an eyebrow at her. She clicked her tongue and looked away.
"Right then," Kurt muttered, letting Lizzie pull him into the corner. "But if this is some elaborate murder plot—"
"If I was gonna kill you, you'd never see me coming." Lizzie shoved him down onto a flat rock and dropped to her knees in front of him. Her hands glowed green, and she pressed them to his chest.
She traced his skin, examining a new tattoo-like scar that formed across his forearm as a result of his resurrection and a look of both fascination and worry was etched on her face.
The healing warmth spread through him, soothing the lingering ache from the burns. But Lizzie's hands were shaking slightly from essence depletion, having administered healing to a lot of people.
"Phew!" She exhaled forcefully and dropped onto the stone beside Kurt, landing hard enough that Kurt felt the impact in his tailbone.
It was dark but Kurt was focused enough now to see how messy she looked. Dried molten ichor still streaked her strawberry blonde hair, braids half-undone, blood still smeared on her left cheek.
She didn't speak at first. Just stared at Kurt with those too-wide, too-bright eyes like she was trying to solve a puzzle.
Then she grinned. That gleeful, dangerous grin.
"Ya know what the best part of almost dying is?" she asked, voice still raspy from all the shouting that happened during their fight.
Kurt raised an eyebrow. "The part where we don't die?"
"Nah." She swung a leg over his lap without warning, straddling him in one fluid, careless motion. The weight of her settled hot and immediate. "The part where everything feels… extra alive afterward."
Her fingers were already working at his buckles. Quick and impatient. Like she'd been waiting for permission and then decided fuck it, permission is boring.
"Lizzie—" Kurt started, but she cut him off by leaning in until her lips brushed the shell of his ear. "And for a guy who keeps cheating death, you must feel extra extra alive!"
Suddenly her mouth were on his. It was a quick innocent kiss at first and she tasted like cherry bubblegum. Then she grabbed Kurt's face and her tongue shoved past his like she was claiming territory.
One hand moved up and fisted in Kurt's hair, yanking his head back so she could drag her teeth and tongue down the column of his throat.
Kurt felt her hips roll once slowly, grinding the heat of her cunt down against the rapidly hardening length trapped under his trousers.
She laughed against his skin, a cracked, delighted giggle that made Kurt's survival instincts scream danger.
"Aw, Jasper's hard," she purred, then stopped grinding, looking up at Kurt. "Yeah, I named your dick Jasper." She began tracing lines on Kurt's skin, the sudden halt of her grinding motion leaving him wanting more.
Lizzie however, seemed to be more interested in the logistics behind the naming of his dick at the moment. "I'll have you know pre-amnesia Kurt approved. And it looked so much like a Jasp—"
"Lizzie," Kurt whispered, drawing her back to the moment.
"Right!" She slid down his body in one liquid motion, knees hitting stone. Her fingers moved swiftly; buckles, laces, fabric shoved aside in seconds.
When she finally wrapped her hand around Kurt, she made an appreciative little "mmm" sound that went straight to his balls.
"Hello," she murmured to Kurt's dick, stroking once, slow and firm. "Jasper's all thick and angry."
Kurt's head fell back against the stone wall, a groan escaping before he could stop it. "Christ, Lizzie—"
"Shh." She stroked him again, faster now, and his body responded despite the insanity of the situation. "Don't want the others to hear, do you?"
His cock hardened in her grip, and Lizzie let out a shaky breath that sounded almost like relief. "Okay. Okay, that's good. That's—" She lowered her head suddenly, tongue flicking out to taste the tip, the flat of her tongue pressing hard against the vein and Kurt's hand flew to the wall behind him for support.
"Bloody hell—"
Lizzie took him into her mouth without warning, her lips sliding down his length with desperate urgency. This wasn't skilled or practiced. It was more frantic, almost violent.
Her hands gripped his thighs hard enough to bruise, nails digging in, and the mix of pleasure and pain sent sparks through his entire body.
She worked him with manic intensity, head bobbing, taking him deeper, and Kurt's hand tangled in her pigtails without thinking.
The sound was obscene; wet and desperate, and when she moaned around him, the vibration nearly undid him right there.
"Fuck, Lizzie," he gasped.
She hollowed her cheeks and sucked like she was trying to pull his soul out through his dick, then pulled back with a wet pop, lips glistening, and looked up at him.
Her eyes were too bright, pupils blown, and there was something intense in her smile. "Still hard. That's good. That means—" She stood abruptly and started yanking at her baggy pants.
Kurt's brain tried to catch up. "Lizzie, we're in a dungeon—"
"I know where we are!" she snapped, kicking her sweatpants aside. She wasn't wearing anything underneath, and Kurt's eyes went wide.
Lizzie was all contradictions. Petite frame, small breasts that barely needed support, but her hips flared wide and her ass—Christ, her ass was massive. Round and full and completely disproportionate to the rest of her, the kind that made his hands itch to grab it just to confirm it was real.
"Fuck me," Kurt muttered.
"That's the idea." Lizzie straddled him before he could process, lining herself up. One hand braced on his shoulder, the other guiding him to her entrance which was soaked.
Kurt felt it the second the head of his cock nudged her; slippery, hot, fluttering. "Gotta make sure. Gotta check—" She sank down in one long, greedy slide, taking every inch until her ass met his thighs with a soft slap and they both gasped. "—fuck."
She was tight. Almost painfully tight. And the heat, the pressure, the way she clenched around him—
"Lizzie—"
But she was already moving, grinding down onto him with jerky, desperate movements. Not practiced. Not smooth. Just frantic and urgent, like she was trying to fuck the exhaustion out of her system.
"Oh, wow," she gasped, hands bracing on his shoulders. "Yup." She rose up and dropped back down, taking him all the way, and her breath hitched. "Making... new... memories."
Kurt's hands found her ass, and holy hell, it was even better than it looked. Soft and full and perfect, filling his palms completely as he squeezed. Lizzie moaned and started moving faster, bouncing on his lap with increasing desperation.
"That's it," she panted. "That's—fuck, you feel so good—" Her nails raked down his chest, and Kurt thrust up to meet her, matching her rhythm.
Her small breasts bounced with each movement, nipples hard, and Kurt leaned forward to catch one in his mouth. Lizzie cried out, fingers tangling in his hair, pulling hard but Kurt ignored the pain.
"Don't stop," she gasped. "Don't—yup! Right there! There—fuck!"
Her tits bounced with every punishing drop and Kurt could see a scar on her ribs flexing, the way her stomach tensed each time she bottomed out. She rolled her hips in filthy little circles on every upstroke, making sure he felt every ridge and flutter inside her.
Kurt thrust up harder, hands gripping her ass, pulling her down onto him with each movement. The angle had him hitting deep, and Lizzie's whole body shuddered.
"Fuck fuck fuck—" she chanted, voice breaking. "Kurt, I'm—"
She came with a strangled sound, burying her face in his shoulder to muffle the scream. Her pussy clenched around him rhythmically, and Kurt groaned, his own control slipping.
But Lizzie didn't stop. She kept moving, riding through her orgasm with desperate intensity, chasing something beyond pleasure.
"Again," she gasped. "Need to—need to make sure—"
Kurt's grip on her ass tightened, and he started thrusting up into her harder, feeling his own release building. Lizzie's second orgasm hit fast, her whole body going rigid, and that pushed him over the edge.
He came hard as thick, pulsing ropes flooded her, spilling out around his cock with every involuntary twitch of her hips. She kept grinding slowly, smearing both of them with the mess while she rode out the last fluttering contractions.
When she finally stilled, she collapsed forward, forehead pressed to his, both of them panting like they'd just gone through another dungeon chamber.
They stayed like that for a moment, both breathing hard, sweat-slicked and trembling.
Then Lizzie whispered against his neck with a grin, voice small and broken: "Extra extra alive."
Kurt let out a slow exhale as he chuckled. "Yeah, you can say that."
"Cool cool cool." She didn't move. Just stayed there, pressed against him like she was afraid he'd disappear if she let go. "Do you hear that?" She lifted her face off his chest and tilted her head.
The sounds of approaching footsteps drew closer.
"You done playing nurse?"
Kurt's eyes snapped open to see Emma standing at the edge of their corner, hand resting casually on her hip. Her expression was flat and difficult to read.
Lizzie didn't move. Didn't even flinch. She just turned her head to look at Emma, still straddling Kurt, and smiled that unhinged little smile. "Hi, Emma."
Emma's jaw tightened slightly. "You can keep playing grab-ass, but we're moving in five minutes. Don't make us wait."
That was it. Kurt expected yelling or a confrontation, but there was none, only a flat statement delivered calmly before she turned and walked away.
Lizzie watched her go and something complicated flickered across her face. "Huh."
Kurt exhaled slowly. "Fuck."
"She's right ya know," Lizzie said quietly, suddenly less playful. "We shouldn't have—" She climbed off him quickly. "Shit." When she was off, Kurt tried not to think about how empty it felt.
She found her pants and started pulling them on. "Used to be she'd at least yell. Now she just..." Lizzie shrugged, but there was something sad in the gesture.
Kurt adjusted his pants and stood. "We fucked up didn't we?"
"I don't know... probably." Lizzie's whole vibe had drained away, leaving her looking tired and smaller somehow. "You should talk to her."
"Yeah," Kurt said, lighting another cigarette. "Probably should."
***
Five minutes later, Kurt found Emma near the edge of the chamber, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed. She didn't look at him as he approached, her gaze fixed somewhere beyond the room.
"Emma," Kurt said, stopping a few feet away.
Still, she didn't respond. Instead, she kept staring into nothingness, as if trying to shut him out.
"Look, about what just happened—"
"It's cool Manchester." Her voice was flat, cutting him off before he could finish. "I don't need your excuses."
Kurt took a slow drag of his cigarette, exhaling the smoke between clenched teeth. "Wasn't going to give you any. I just wanted to make sure we're alright."
Emma let out a short, humorless laugh. "We're fine, Kurt. We always were." Finally, she met his eyes, and her grey eyes were empty. "You think I give a shit who you fuck? I don't."
Kurt took a cautious step closer, lowering his voice. "You sure about that?"
"Yeah." Emma reached out and plucked the cigarette from his lips, took a long drag, and exhaled smoke. She stared at it for a moment. "This is shit, by the way. Tastes like burnt rubber."
"And yet you're smoking it."
"Yeah, well." She stared at the cigarette. "Bad habits are hard to break."
They stood there in silence for a moment. Then Emma spoke again, "You've got no impulse control," she said flatly. "Which makes you a liability. Again."
"Emma—"
"Save it." She took another drag of his cigarette. "I don't give a shit who you fuck, Kurt. Fuck the whole guild for all I care. But do it when we're not in a goddamn dungeon."
"That's what this is about? Timing?"
"That's what it's ALWAYS about." She handed the cigarette back. "You died two hours ago. Lizzie's still shaken up from it. And instead of getting your head straight, you're balls-deep in her in a corner." Her jaw clenched. "You know what I call that? Being a selfish asshole."
Kurt opened his mouth, but she kept going.
"And the worst part? I'm not even surprised. Because this is what you do. You take what you want and don't think about who it fucks up." She turned away. "So if you were wondering if you're the same, congratula-fucking-tions. Amnesia didn't fix shit."
"Emma—"
"We're done talking." She pushed off the wall. "Get your head straight. We're moving soon, and I need you focused, not thinking with your dick."
She walked away before he could respond, leaving Kurt standing there, a cigarette burning down to ash between his fingers.
Suddenly, from somewhere deeper in the tunnels, an enormous roar, all the way from the boss level shattered the silence. The sound rattled the stone beneath his feet, causing small rocks to tumble from the ceiling.
At that moment, Rook's voice echoed sharply across the chamber. "Everyone up! We're moving!"
Quickly, the team scrambled to their feet, checking weapons and tightening straps. Meanwhile, ahead, ice flashed amid roars. A blue-haired woman fought waves of lava-scaled tanks alone, barriers barely holding on.
***
A/N: I hope you're enjoying this so far. Add to Library and send a power stone or two if you're.
And a review or two would mean something to me! Thank you and peace!