[Entrance to the Core Cave – The First Threshold]
It was no ordinary cave; it was a wound in the fabric of the earth, perpetually bleeding cold. The moment the darkness swallowed us and we moved past those crumbling statues at the entrance, I felt a shift in the very physics of the place. The jagged, chaotic rocks we had grown accustomed to outside vanished abruptly, replaced by precise geometric tiles made of a matte black metal. This metal did not reflect light; it absorbed it, as if it were a tapestry woven from interconnected black holes.
The walls were not stone, but a surface so smooth that touching them felt like touching a cold corpse. They were covered in deep-set engravings that pulsed with a faint violet flicker—synthetic veins pumping ancient energy through the body of this dead place. The air had a metallic tang, so still that I could hear the blood rushing through my own veins. There was no wind, no dust—only the scent of "The Ancient," that smell that arises when time decides to stop in a single spot for millennia.
"Light the torches..." Bourjan whispered, his voice trembling as he clung to my back like a child afraid of ghouls. The three remaining soldiers, who had lost half their courage at the threshold, struck their phosphorescent stones. The light crept forward slowly to reveal a majestic corridor stretching into infinity, the ceiling lost in a gloom that our lights could not reach.
"What kind of hell is this?" a young soldier asked, his eyes darting in terror between the engravings. "The legends said the Ancient Guardians lived in filthy pits... not in metal palaces."
I didn't bother to respond. I was busy decoding the environment. I approached the smooth wall and ran my fingertips over the glowing inscriptions. To Bourjan and his men, these were mere pagan decorations or random scratches, but to me—thanks to [Tongue of Existence]—the symbols were screaming.
The words began to deconstruct in my consciousness, melting away from their pictorial forms to reassemble into abstract meanings that spoke directly to my mind.
[Ancient Text: "Here lies the weight of sin. He who walks with arrogance is crushed; he who walks with humility shall pass. Beware the echo of your footsteps, for gravity is an ear that never sleeps."]
A cold smile played across my face in the dark. "These aren't decorations, Bourjan..." I whispered. "This is a warning written in the language of death."
[The First Trap: The Echo Corridor]
"Move out!" Bourjan barked, trying to reclaim his bruised pride. "The Core is below, and gold does not wait for the fearful!" He shoved a soldier named Doran forward. "You're in the lead. Check the floor."
Doran was shaking, his grip on his sword white-knuckled from the pressure. He took the first step onto the black tiles. CLACK. The echo of his heavy boot resonated through the corridor unnaturally, the sound magnifying as if the hallway were a tightened string on a massive musical instrument. Doran froze. He waited. Nothing happened. He let out a sigh of relief, thinking his fear was just an illusion.
"It's safe... just a solid floor," Doran said, starting to run slowly to close the distance. Clack... clack... clack...
"Stop, you fool!" I shouted, but my voice was lost amidst the accelerating echo of his footsteps.
On the fourth step, the violet glow of the wall engravings turned a deep, visceral crimson—the color of fresh blood. In that instant, I felt a vibration in the very atoms of the air.
[System: Frequency disturbance detected. Activating Protocol: "Heavy Retribution."]
Suddenly, without warning, Doran stopped running. The tile he stepped on in the middle of the corridor didn't explode; it didn't sprout spikes. Simply put... the laws of physics above it changed. CRAAAAAAAASH!
In less than a second, Doran was crushed. He didn't even have time to scream. Gravity over that tile suddenly intensified a hundredfold. I watched his body collapse in on itself as if it were made of paper. His metal armor, his bones, his skull—everything was pulverized into a thin "sheet" of flesh and metal plastered to the floor. The sound of his bones shattering was like the snapping of dry branches under immense pressure.
Bourjan and Karl stopped dead in their tracks, as if paralyzed. Droplets of Doran's blood, sprayed by the pressure, reached their boots. "What... what happened?" Bourjan stammered, his eyes bulging. "He didn't touch a trap! He was just walking!"
I looked at him with chilling indifference. "I told you, gravity is an ear that never sleeps. The faster and louder your steps, the more this place considers you an 'object' that must be crushed and corrected. Gravity here isn't a natural law; it's a weapon."
"You... you really understand the language of the Rulers?" Bourjan asked, his awe eclipsed by horror.
"I hear what you cannot." I kicked off my tattered boots and stood barefoot on the cold metal. "Follow my lead... and anyone who makes a sound louder than their own heartbeat better prepare themselves to be the next rug in this hallway."
[The Puzzle: The Chamber of Mirrors and Searing Light]
We crossed the corridor in funereal silence until we reached a vast circular hall. There was no bridge—only a deep, bottomless chasm separating us from the other side. In the center of the void, small metal platforms floated in the air, but they were moving in a chaotic, frenzied randomness.
On the walls of the hall were four massive crystal lenses, and from the ceiling hung a single beam of concentrated white light, falling into the center of the abyss without illuminating anything.
"Dead end!" Karl cried out in despair. "The platforms are moving too fast, jumping is suicide!"
I approached a stone tablet at the edge and read the text through [Tongue of Existence]:
"Light is the bridge, and shadow is the abyss. Guide the beam to form the (Nebula Star), and time shall halt beneath the traveler's feet. Beware, for the light burns those it touches, and mirrors reflect only the truth."
I looked at the four lenses. They were mounted on circular tracks in the walls and required physical strength to move.
"Bourjan, Karl!" I pointed to the lenses. "You two need to move the lenses to catch the central beam and pass it between them until it forms a hexagonal shape around the floating platforms."
"How do we know the angle?" Bourjan asked tensely.
"I will guide you," I said, standing at the edge. "But there is a catch... once the shape is complete, the platforms will stop moving and a bridge of light will appear. But this light is hot enough to melt your armor if the beam deviates by even a millimeter."
The work began. Karl shoved the first lens with his massive shoulder while Bourjan directed the second. The white beam struck the first lens, refracting toward the second, then the third.
"Faster!" I shouted as I saw the platforms begin to spin more violently.
Suddenly, the beam slipped from the third lens and struck the third soldier's shoulder. "AAAAAAAH!" the soldier screamed as his armor began to melt in seconds. He recoiled, clutching his scorched shoulder.
"Don't stop!" I barked sharply. "Karl, push the fourth lens inward!"
Thanks to [Eyes of Sin], I could see phantom lines in the air drawing the correct path. "Three degrees to the left, Bourjan! Now!"
The moment the final beam met the first lens to close the circle... a dead silence fell. The platforms that had been flying randomly stopped instantly, and a path of solid light formed over them, connecting the two sides.
"Cross now!" I commanded them. "The light bridge won't hold for long; the energy is draining!"
We ran across the light bridge; it felt like hot glass beneath our bare feet. The moment we crossed to the other side, the light died out, and the platforms plummeted into the abyss with a distant, echoing thud.
[The Archive Room]
We entered a small room that resembled a secret bunker. The walls here were not metal, but lined with a type of petrified wood that time had failed to decay. In the center stood a polished stone table holding a glass case and a weapon.
Bourjan rushed forward, but I stopped him with my hand. "Wait..."
I approached alone. Inside the case was a small black cube pulsing with blue light. Beside it lay a dagger with a blade made of translucent volcanic glass, its hilt twisting like a prehistoric spinal column.
[System: Core Relics Acquired.]
[Gravity Cube]: Allows the manipulation of the weight of objects within a narrow radius.
[Void Fang Dagger]: A blade that severs magical flows and pierces energy shields as if cutting through air.
I snatched the items with lightning speed and hid them. "There is no gold here, Bourjan..." I said coldly. "Just ancient junk you wouldn't understand the value of."
"Junk?" Bourjan kicked the floor in rage. "Doran was crushed, and another soldier had his shoulder melted... for junk?"
I pointed to the massive door at the end of the room, a door bearing a Royal Seal of three giants holding up the world. I felt the hilt of my new dagger.
"The real gold is behind that door, Bourjan... but it is gold guarded by souls that know no mercy. Get ready, for the real show begins now."