I started walking down a dark corridor after I landed on Floor 20. I was scared—bad scared—but my mom… she needs me, so I can’t sit here shaking. I kept one hand on the wall to guide myself, and I kept looking down to make sure every step was safe.

  After a while, I finally saw faint light ahead—and the corridor forced me to turn right. When I turned, my stomach sank, because I could see the exit at the far end of a long hallway. The problem was the hallway was engulfed in miasma, thick and potent like it was alive.

  I tried to think of another way around it. I even stepped back and checked the walls like maybe there was a hidden passage or a crack or anything. Nope. No other way.

  If I was my father’s son… then I had to be able to take it. I slowed my breathing on purpose and stepped in.

  The moment I inhaled, my lungs felt like they were on fire. Not a normal burn—like someone shoved hot metal down my throat and told me to keep walking. My vision started to blur at the edges, but I kept moving, forcing my breath to stay controlled.

  Thump. Thump.

  It wasn’t just my heartbeat. It felt deeper. Like something in my chest—something I never felt before—started beating like a second heart.

  “What the hell was that…?” I whispered, and took another step anyway.

  Thump. Thump. Thump.

  My legs went weak. I fell to my knees and covered my mouth, but it didn’t matter—blood started leaking out anyway. My eyes burned so hard tears poured out… and then those tears turned red too.

  I was right there. RIGHT THERE. The exit was at the end of the hall, close enough I could almost touch it with my mind.

  Is it already over?

  Thump. Thump.

  My eyes snapped open from sheer willpower. I sucked in a breath—and it didn’t stab.

  The miasma was gone.

  Not thinner. Not less. Just gone, like something swallowed it whole. The hallway looked the same, but the air tasted clean enough to make me almost panic from the difference.

  Then I saw it.

  A figure stood there like a torn piece of night wearing a cloak, white eyes floating where a face should be. No feet. No sound. Just presence. It lifted one arm and pointed toward the exit—sharp and urgent. Like it was saying: Move. Now.

  I swallowed hard and pushed myself up. “Alright,” I rasped, still tasting blood. “Thanks.”

  I stumbled through the exit and headed into Floor 19, my body shaking like it didn’t trust what just happened. When I glanced back, the ghost was still there for a heartbeat—watching the hallway like it was thinking.

  Then it floated after me.

  I arrived at Floor 19, but the ghost stopped me before I could lose a limb.

  SLICE!

  A blade missed my head by a second. I froze so hard my bones felt locked. The thing in front of me wasn’t a person—it was a blind golem, moving with calm brutality, like it didn’t need eyes to kill.

  It looked like something made by the King’s alchemist. Heavy stone body. Smooth joints. A weapon arm that moved like a guillotine. It didn’t hunt with sight—it hunted with sound, pressure, breath—anything that proved I was alive.

  The ghost raised a hand toward where its mouth would be, like it was telling me: don’t make a sound.

  So I didn’t.

  I swallowed my fear and held my breathing down until it felt like my lungs were being strangled from the inside. The golems moved in circles through the small stone brick room, patrolling like they were set on a loop. Every time their feet scraped stone, my heartbeat tried to answer.

  I remembered something from Lady Jubeeca’s biography. If she wanted speed, she trained her footwork like her life depended on it. Heels light. Steps controlled. Breath steady. Hands up—like a box—covering the sides of the face, ready to guard without thinking.

  So I copied it.

  One gentle step at a time, I moved with the smallest sound possible. My heels barely touched, my toes guiding me forward like I was walking on glass. Every time a golem passed close, I forced my breathing quieter, like I could shrink my existence.

  It worked.

  I made it to the door of Floor 18.

  The second I crossed the threshold, I let out one huge breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. My lungs screamed with relief.

  And that’s when the room behind me exploded.

  The golems turned at once—full intent—like that single breath had been an alarm bell.

  “WAH—!”

  I ran up the stairs in a full blitz, not looking back even once. Their stone steps thundered behind me, but the distance saved me. By the time I cleared the entry, they were already fading back into their loop.

  “Phew…”

  The golems stopped chasing me, and for the first time since the miasma floor, I thought I might survive the next minute.

  “Hey… ghost,” I whispered. “What’s your name?”

  Before the ghost could do anything, it pointed sharply toward the cracks along the corridor. I followed its gesture—and saw small red eyes staring back at me through holes in the stone.

  At first, it looked… cute.

  Then—

  “AH!”

  Pain flashed across my right elbow. A cut. Thin but deep, like something sharp had flicked me. I barely had time to process it before—

  “OUCH!”

  My other elbow got clipped too. Then another sting. Then another.

  Killer rabbits poured out from the cracks and holes, surrounding me in fast, twitchy movement. Their bodies were small, but their teeth weren’t. Their eyes were bright with hunger, and they weren’t afraid.

  The ghost pointed down the zig-zag corridor with urgency. Move. Now.

  But the rabbits blocked the path like living barbed wire. Every time I tried to shift my foot, another one snapped at me. I couldn’t run without paying for it.

  The ghost went through my chest.

  Cold pressure squeezed my ribs from the inside—like invisible hands forcing my lungs to work properly. It wasn’t comfortable. It wasn’t gentle. It felt like being corrected by something that didn’t care if it hurt.

  And I swear I felt the message in my bones:

  Fight.

  So I did.

  I started swatting and kicking any rabbit that jumped in my way. The ghost’s pointing got sharper—directing me like a coach in the corner, telling me which ones were about to lunge. I couldn’t hear it speak, but I could feel its guidance like pressure on my instincts.

  It didn’t come without a cost.

  My arms started getting covered in small cuts and bite marks. My legs got tagged too—little stinging nips that added up fast. But my body started finding rhythm inside the chaos, like my fear was turning into movement.

  I remembered Jubeeca again—how she practiced her jabs and knee kicks until they became reflex.

  So I copied that too.

  A punch snapped forward and caught a rabbit mid-jump. Another one jumped and I hit it with a knee. Then a stiff side kick landed clean, and the rabbit flew into the wall like it weighed nothing.

  “Huh…”

  It wasn’t pretty. It wasn’t skilled. But it worked.

  I kept moving, kicking and striking my way forward until the rabbits finally gave me an opening. I hit the door hard and shoved through.

  I made it.

  And I even got myself a meal.

  The ghost stared at me like I was a savage when I started eating killer rabbit meat. I looked back at it like it was the one being weird.

  “Look,” I said through a mouthful of survival. “I’m desperate. We just need an ember mouse.”

  The ghost tilted like it didn’t know what that was.

  “It’s a little mouse,” I explained, still breathing hard. “If you squeeze them gently, they spit out a small fireball. Like a lighter.”

  No sight of one yet.

  I tossed the leftover rabbit back into Floor 18. A bunch of rabbits swarmed it instantly, biting and tearing like it was normal.

  I stared at it for a second and swallowed.

  “Survival of the fittest… huh?”

  I arrived at Floor 17, but it wasn’t the regular stone brick hallway anymore. It felt like I was outside, and the air hit different—too open, too familiar.

  Then I heard a voice that made my whole body freeze.

  “SOREN! WHERE ARE YOU?!”

  Stolen story; please report.

  It was my mom.

  I ran toward the voice without thinking, sprinting across what looked like open ground. A castle stood ahead—my castle. The same shape. The same presence. My chest tightened like the pit had reached into my memories and pulled one out just to torture me.

  I made it close enough to see it clearly, and my stomach dropped. I saw my father freezing my mother again, like it was happening in real time.

  Then I noticed something worse.

  The carriage.

  Me inside it.

  Tied up. Bound. Unable to move.

  My blood went hot.

  I charged at my father, rage swallowing every thought—then the scene warped. The castle blurred, the voice distorted, and the illusion snapped like glass.

  It wasn’t real.

  In front of me was a monster with one huge eye staring straight through me. A disgusting thing—tentacles, wet skin, and that single eye that felt like it was searching my soul.

  A fear-feeder.

  A monster that sees your biggest fear and uses it against you.

  But it didn’t know what it just did.

  It didn’t know it just pissed off a Prince.

  “You bastard…” I growled. “I’LL KILL YOU.”

  I didn’t even think. I felt my body heat up so much it almost felt good, like something inside me finally had permission to burn. I charged the eyeball and grabbed one of its tentacles, then slammed it hard into the ground.

  It sizzled when I let go.

  I didn’t even notice.

  I was in full rage.

  I started stomping its eye like it owed me money. Over and over, until it didn’t move. It didn’t scream. It didn’t even make a sound—it just stopped being alive under my feet.

  Then I walked to the next floor in silence.

  Behind me, the ghost floated there watching.

  It didn’t speak, but somehow I could tell—

  It looked impressed.

  I finally found my composure, but my body started screaming from what I did on Floor 17. The recoil was unbearable, like the rage burned through everything and left pain behind as payment. My legs shook, and I fell to my knees.

  The ghost came to me fast again—urgent—like it sensed something across the chamber. I followed its direction and saw a mountain of bone and broken stone ahead, blocking part of the path.

  Then something moved beyond it.

  A rabbit.

  Regular-looking, which already felt wrong down here.

  It sprinted from right to left and vanished from sight. For a second I forgot about my pain because all I saw was food.

  Then something followed it.

  A huge Demon Alligator slid out like a nightmare with scales, hungry enough that the air felt colder around it. Its body was built wrong—armored hide, jaws too wide, teeth layered like a trap. It didn’t rush like a beast.

  It moved like something that knew it owned this floor.

  I remembered something from Jubeeca’s book—how she always said pain is just a means of growth. If you stop, you die. If you push, you evolve.

  Before the ghost could gesture again, I took off.

  I forgot the pain in my legs and arms. I forgot how weak I was supposed to be. All I could see was the rabbit, and all I could think was: that’s my meal.

  I made a sharp left and spotted them. The alligator was right behind the rabbit, jaws opening as it closed the distance. The moment its mouth almost shut, I lunged in and snatched the rabbit out of its death path.

  And then I ran.

  I sprinted straight for the exit leading to Floor 15, heart pounding like it wanted out of my chest. I yelled over my shoulder without thinking—

  “THANKS FOR THE MEAL!”

  I hit the staircase and for half a second—half a stupid second—I admired the rabbit in my hands like I already won.

  Then—

  UGH!

  The ghost ran through my chest hard enough to make my ribs feel squeezed. I stumbled, choking on air like I got slapped from the inside.

  “What the hell?!”

  It pointed.

  The alligator was forcing itself into the staircase, claws scraping stone, jaw snapping like it was furious I stole from it. It didn’t care that it was a doorway. It didn’t care about rules.

  It just wanted what was mine.

  I ran up to Floor 15, forgetting everything except survival.

  Floor 15 was quiet and full of trees. After the chaos of the alligator, the silence felt fake—like the pit was pretending to be peaceful. Pale light leaked through the canopy in thin beams, cutting the fog into strips, and for the first time since the Arena I could actually see more than a few feet ahead.

  The ghost drifted close and pointed at something small near the roots. At first I thought it was just a mouse—then the ghost slid behind me like it forgot it was a ghost.

  “What is it?” I whispered, leaning in.

  I saw it clearly then—an ember mouse, nibbling a berry like it didn’t belong down here. The moment it noticed me it tried to bolt, but I lunged. I jumped over it, landed face first, and still managed to catch it with my right hand before it escaped.

  “Now, now,” I panted, holding it gently. “Little guy… I just need you for a moment.”

  I didn’t have magic. Not real magic. But I had food in one hand and survival in the other, and I wasn’t letting either one leave.

  With the rabbit still in my other hand, I ended it quick. One clean motion—hands firm—a head snap that made my stomach twist.

  “I’m sorry,” I muttered anyway.

  I found a sharp rock and started cleaning the rabbit the way my mom taught me back at home. She always told me it was fine to eat meat raw if you had to, but you should cook it from time to time. So I drained it, cleaned it, and tried not to think too hard about how normal that advice used to sound.

  I broke bark and dry wood into a small pile, then looked down at the ember mouse.

  “I just need you to do one job,” I said. “Don’t make me squeeze you.”

  The ember mouse trembled, then spit out a small ember like it hated me for existing. I used it to catch the bark, coaxing a flame to life, and the light flickered up warm against my face.

  Then I opened my hand and let it go.

  Before it ran off completely, it paused and looked back like it couldn’t believe what just happened. Then it disappeared into the trees.

  I skinned the rabbit and deboned it. I wrapped the meat around a stick and held it over the flame, turning it slowly until the smell changed from blood to food.

  For a few minutes, the pit almost felt like a campsite—until I remembered nothing down here was meant to be kind.

  While it cooked, I glanced at the ghost.

  “Hey,” I said. “So you can speak?”

  The ghost stared at me, then tilted its head like it was thinking. After a moment it forced out one broken word.

  “Contract?”

  “What?” I blinked.

  But the rabbit finished cooking and my brain betrayed me. I grabbed it and went to town on it like starving was my personality now. I even offered a piece to the ghost—then realized how stupid that was the second it didn’t reach for it.

  I finished eating and finally let myself drop back. I slid under the shade of a thick tree, where the light barely touched the ground, and my body melted into the dirt like it had been waiting for permission to rest.

  “That was good…” I breathed. “Ahhhh…”

  The ghost floated closer.

  Then—poof—a contract appeared in the air between us.

  The words were clean and sharp, like they weren’t meant to be questioned:

  SPECTOR OF WRATH — COMPANION CONTRACT SIGN HERE TO CONFIRM PACT (Do not ignore the descriptions at the bottom.)

  I squinted at it.

  “Hm… laws and binding contracts?” I muttered. “Eh, whatever. I’ll sign it anyway.”

  I moved to bite my thumb.

  The Specter of Wrath stopped me, pointing hard at the small details like it was begging me to read.

  I sighed, exhausted, annoyed, and still high off the fact that I survived.

  “Eh, whatever,” I said. “So far it’s you and me. Whatever the other stuff is… I know you won’t hurt me.”

  I bit my thumb. Blood beaded up. Then I shoved my bleeding thumb straight through the Specter of Wrath’s body and pressed it onto the contract.

  I pulled my hand back.

  “That’s it?”

  The Specter of Wrath stared at me like it was pissed off.

  The contract floated higher. It shined—then shattered into tiny particles like snow, except it looked too sharp to be snow. Those particles spiraled and shot into my right thigh.

  For half a second nothing happened.

  Then—

  Something started engraving into my inner thigh.

  “Eh?” I flinched. “Ouch—”

  Pain detonated.

  “OUCH! AHHHHH!”

  My leg started bleeding. I ripped my shorts down with shaking hands and saw a symbol being carved into me. Not ink. Not magic paint.

  Like a knife writing a promise into my flesh.

  It hurt so bad my vision faded in and out. My body couldn’t handle it. I heard a voice—sharp, full of sass—right before I blacked out.

  “Man… this is going to be annoying.”

  I woke up with my face in dirt and my thigh on fire—while the trees above me swayed like they were laughing. I thought the only pain I had to worry about was the burn where the symbol got carved into me, but the second I tried to breathe, my whole body protested. Every inhale felt like my muscles were screaming, like I got rebuilt wrong on purpose.

  I looked down and finally understood why.

  My body had developed. Not a little. Not training results. My shoulders were broader, my arms looked harder, and my hands looked like they belonged to someone who’d been fighting for years. It didn’t feel like I grew—it felt like something got unlocked and dumped on me all at once.

  A voice with pure sass cut in.

  “Yeah,” it said. “Thanks to me.”

  I snapped my head around, and there she was—small, floating, and furious-looking. She wasn’t a cute fairy. She looked like a wrath specter forced into a human shape: sharp eyes, angry aura, and an attitude that made her seem bigger than the whole forest.

  “Don’t move too much,” she said. “You’ll strain yourself. I had to push your body to its limit, you know.”

  “Push my body to its limit?” I rasped.

  “Yeah. All that muscle you see? It was dormant inside you. You had other special abilities too. You’ll find them soon.” She sounded amused. “I can’t wait to see the violence you’re going to overcome the hardship with. You’ve got motivation buried in your memory, don’t you?”

  My throat tightened.

  “Your mother is encased in enchanted ice,” she continued. “And you got cast into the depth by Jubeeca.” She leaned closer, delighted. “What a turn of events.”

  My hands clenched.

  “That’s enough,” I said, and forced my breathing back down before my temper could grab the wheel.

  Bella paused like she was tasting the words, then grinned wider—like she liked me better when I had teeth.

  “Oh,” she added, like she just remembered. “I’ve been meaning to tell you something.”

  I didn’t answer. I didn’t trust my mouth.

  “That purple smoke on Floor 20?” she said. “You breathed all of it in while you were unconscious.”

  “…Huh?”

  She laughed. “Yeah! It helped your Hellcore come back to life.”

  I forced myself to stand, ready to shut this down—then caught myself mid-motion.

  “Wait,” I muttered. “Did I just say something… straight forward?”

  She nodded, pleased. “Oh yeah. From the contract? You’re showing your true meaner side now. And honestly? I like it better than your pathetic personality.”

  I looked past her—and my blood went cold.

  A huge demon lion lay dead in front of me. Not sleeping. Not injured. Dead-dead. Claws out, jaw half open like it died trying to bite.

  Bella tilted her head toward it. “That was going to eat you in your sleep once you passed out,” she said casually. “So I was forced to take control and take it out. You’re welcome.”

  I stared at the corpse for a long second. Then I swallowed everything I wanted to say and shoved it down where it couldn’t slow me.

  Whatever. I have to keep moving.

  “I’ll use whatever I can get my hands on,” I said, voice rough. “As long as I can see my mom again.”

  “My name is Bella,” she said.

  I exhaled. “Alright, Bella. Let’s continue.”

  As we walked, her voice sharpened. “The stages ahead are gruesome,” she warned. “Get ready, Prince Soren.”

  I glanced at her. “So you know my name.”

  “Well, I’m bound to you now,” she said like it was annoying. “So yeah. I know what matters. Even your shitty father.”

  I let out a small laugh—half disbelief, half exhaustion—and kept moving.

  Then the stairs appeared.

  And the moment I stepped onto Floor 14, gravity grabbed my spine and tried to fold me in half.