Five minutes passed, and the gentle drizzle swelled into a downpour that swallowed the horizon. The rain fell in sheets, heavy and endless, hammering against the slanted walls of the rock. Below them, the floodwaters began to creep upward, swirling and lapping with a strange patience.
At first, there was panic—the kind born from realizing nature didn't care how strong or skilled you were. The waters climbed fast, swallowing the base of the monolith and then crawling a quarter of the way up its height before, mercifully, it stopped. The rain continued to fall, but the rising current froze in place, sloshing lazily against the stone as if caught between breaths.
The shed they built clung stubbornly to the side of the rock, its supports groaning but holding. It wasn't elegant, but it was sturdy, wrapped in vines and reinforced with thick planks and hides. The group exhaled together, an unspoken relief rippling between them.
"Well, I won't lie," Texan said, standing near the cliff's edge, rain slicking his hair flat. "I expected way more."
Tyler, crouched by the small campfire he was coaxing to life despite the drizzle, glanced up with a grin. "If it seems like such a breeze, get down there for a swim."
Texan stretched, rolling his shoulders as droplets slid down his scales. "You knowww, that's not a bad idea." He looked down at the dark, rippling expanse below. "Maybe I could find some loot that was hiding in the bushes."
"Go for it, honestly," Tyler said, flipping a slab of meat over the fire. "I doubt the flood'll get any worse."
Texan chuckled and turned his gaze outward. From here, the world was a vast ocean of rainwater. The surface gleamed silver beneath the storm, reflecting the dim light of a sky too full of clouds to let the sun through. It almost reminded him of the sea back home—except this one was colder, emptier, and full of creatures that probably wanted him dead.
He let out a sigh. "Never mind. Doesn't feel like the ocean at all."
When he turned to make another joke, his voice caught in his throat.The light dimmed—not gradually, but suddenly, violently. The sun vanished completely, swallowed by something massive and moving.
Texan's pupils constricted. "Oh, shit."
The shape loomed larger and larger until the truth hit him like a fist. "Fuck, Tyler, you just had to say it!"
"What—?" Tyler began, but his voice was drowned out as a wall of water taller than the monolith itself came roaring forward.
The tsunami hit with a sound like the world breaking.
The shed exploded apart, vines snapping, wood splintering, and bodies flung into the chaos. The entire rock shuddered under the force. Himmel's ears rang as he surfaced, gasping, holding Vanessa close as the current tore at his limbs. The water was violent and unrelenting, churning with debris, torn branches, and flashes of silver scales from unseen beasts below.
Texan locked his eyes on the shattered remnants of their shed roof, now bobbing like a raft. That was their only salvation. He forced himself calm, muscles coiled tight, and began scanning the water.
He spotted Himmel first—still clutching Vanessa, kicking toward the raft. Slow, but steady. Next came Tyler, face down, floating unconscious in the water. Texan dove, his powerful tail flicking with precision. The cold wrapped around him, but he cut through it like a spear, grabbing Tyler and hauling him upward.
"Come on, come on…" he muttered, dragging both man and current alike. He broke the surface beside Himmel, shoving Tyler onto the raft, then grabbing Vanessa's arm to pull her up as well. Three of the four were safe.
But one was missing.
Texan's head whipped from side to side. "Winter!" he shouted, his voice swallowed by the storm. He dove again, the murk swallowing him whole. His heartbeat echoed through his skull as he searched every crevice, every shadow. Then—a flicker of movement.
There, deep below, a shadow twitched. A massive frog-like creature had Winter bound in its sticky, elastic tongue. Her body struggled faintly, armor sizzling where the creature's saliva ate through metal.
"Found you," Texan growled.
He surged forward, muscles coiling like springs. His first jab hit the frog square in the gut, sending a shockwave through the water. The frog reeled, but didn't release her—it only tightened its hold.
Texan snarled. "Fine, be stubborn."
He followed with a cross, then a brutal hook. Each strike left ripples in the water, the last one cracking through bone. Still the frog clung to her.
"You little bottom-feeder," Texan hissed, his eyes narrowing. "Let. Her. Go."
He spun underwater, channeling his full momentum into an upward strike—an uppercut that twisted into a crushing overhand blow, finishing with a full-body 360 punch. The final impact was devastating; the frog convulsed, its tongue snapping loose as bubbles and blood clouded the water.
Winter drifted free. Texan caught her by the waist, kicked hard, and surfaced again. He dragged her onto the raft, gasping.
"Fuck, that was bad," he muttered, wiping blood from his mouth as he pushed her up beside Himmel.
"Vanessa, Tyler—work on making a roof for us. Use what's left of the lumber and hides," Himmel ordered, voice sharp but steady as he checked Winter's pulse. She wasn't breathing. He leaned close and began mouth-to-mouth resuscitation, his breath steady even in the downpour.
A moment later, she sputtered, coughed up water, and gasped for air. Her trembling hand gripped his arm. "Thank you," she whispered, voice soft and raw.
Before Himmel could reply, Texan's voice came from behind him. "What, no thanks to me? I pulled you out of the damn water."
Winter giggled weakly, her voice small but warm. "Thank you too, Texan."
Texan rolled his eyes, tying off a rope. "You two make me cringe," he said, but the smirk stayed on his face.
Working together, the group reassembled a makeshift shelter from the salvaged materials—lumber tied with vines, hide stretched overhead to keep the rain off. By the time they finished, exhaustion clung to them all like the humidity.
Vanessa flopped onto her back. "Well, what now? Just sit around doing nothing?"
Texan looked up from coiling rope, his tone mock-serious. "Erm, I got an idea." He pushed his imaginary glasses up with his finger, his voice going nasally. "Remember those guys in the tree? I could go back there and fuck them over."
He laughed before anyone could respond. "Yeah, you know what? I will do that." And without another word, he dove back into the water.
Tyler stared after him. "You cool with him just doing that?"
Himmel, closing his eyes to meditate, said calmly, "Why not? He's a merman. Probably stronger than me when he's in the water."
As they rested, Texan descended into the flood again. The world below was vast and eerily quiet, shafts of light slicing through the murk. He swam toward the monolith's submerged base, wrapping a vine around its foundation to anchor his path.
Halfway there, a glow caught his eye—a pulsing golden fruit hanging from a half-drowned branch. It shimmered like molten honey.
"Fuck it," he said aloud, and bit in. Energy rushed through him like liquid fire, his veins lighting up with bioluminescent streaks. His muscles tightened, his senses sharpened. A smile spread across his face. "Level four," he murmured. "Right up there with Himmel. I love gambling."
After an hour of swimming, the tree's outline came into view. He found a boulder nearby, heavy and jagged, and with a grin he rammed it into the trunk. The wall cracked open, and water surged inside like a floodgate releasing.
Inside, chaos erupted. The orcs from the Fifth Prince's faction scrambled for escape, weapons floating, papers scattering. Texan blocked their only exit with the same boulder, trapping them inside.
One by one they came at him—the first three weak and disoriented, barely level three, and he dispatched them with contemptuous ease. The fourth, a level four woman, worked in perfect rhythm with the last—a hulking level five. She darted forward, hurled by the larger orc like a weapon, blades flashing. Texan blocked one but not the other; the knife carved through his side, blood billowing into the water.
He grinned through the pain. "Oh, you done fucked up."
He slammed her into the seafloor with a cross that cracked the earth beneath them, bubbles rising in thick streams. Her last breath escaped in a plume of crimson.
Then came the level five, striking from behind with crushing force. His massive arms locked around Texan's chest, bones creaking. Texan thrashed, coughed blood, and growled, "You really trying to suffocate me—when I'm underwater?"
The orc said nothing, only squeezed harder.
Texan's mind raced. He knew he would live this exchange, although it would take a while the level 5 would surely die before Texan. But the problem was after, Texan lost his regeneration and he realized the damage from this would leave him completely vulnerable. Any creature could scavenge his mangled body, that's what this orc was aiming for. Then, a voice echoed faintly from the gauntlets on his arms.
"Sorry to cut in," it said, smooth and distorted. "Took enough energy from your kills to talk. I'm the soul within your gauntlets. Long story short—you can use a partial bit of my ability. For now, you can launch yourself twenty feet in any direction at full speed. Just think of me and shout it."
The voice faded. Texan blinked. "...What the fuck."
He grinned. "Hey, pussy," he said, tilting his head toward his captor, "you like the taste of rock?"
"DOWN!" he roared.
The water split as Texan shot downward at blinding speed, the orc's grip tearing loose with a crack. He hit the seafloor with such force that the shockwave sent sediment spinning.
Texan twisted back, darting upward again, fists glowing. He pummeled the larger orc relentlessly—hook, jab, elbow, knee—until the water ran red.
Five minutes later, it was over. The bodies drifted silently around him. Texan floated among them, chest heaving, blood mingling with the currents.
He tried to loot their belongings, but each enchanted weapon burned his hands raw. He hissed, shaking them off. "Whatever. I'll just take your papers."
But when he reached the desk, the waterlogged pages disintegrated in his hands. "FUUUUUCKKK," he screamed into the void.
Defeated, he swam back toward the raft, muttering curses into the water. Then something caught his eye—a faint glow at the monolith's base. A door, half-buried, carved into the stone itself.
He surfaced. "There's a dungeon at the stone! Wanna go in?"
Himmel didn't respond. He was deep in meditation, blue electricity crackling faintly around him.
"Someone wake him the fuck up," Texan said.
Tyler reached out to shake him—and immediately yelped as a small arc of lightning shocked his hand. Himmel's eyes opened, calm but sharp.
"Ay, lightning boy," Texan grinned. "Dungeon. Rock. Wanna go?"
"Sure," Himmel said simply. "We'll go one by one. I'll head in first and wait five minutes—see if it's a lone dungeon. Oh, and give me back the golem for a second."
Texan smirked, offering his arm. "Ouu, holding my arm like a married couple. You didn't even suggest a rope."
Winter froze mid-action, eyes narrowing slightly. "Texan's not gay, right?"
"I heard he fucks anything," Tyler said flatly.
Winter's jaw clenched, a flicker of jealousy flashing through her gaze.
Meanwhile, below the surface, Himmel and Texan reached the door. It was massive, carved from black stone, runes glowing faintly beneath the waterline. When they opened it, Himmel stepped inside—and the world changed.
A single chamber stretched before him, walls of obsidian glistening like wet glass. Four glowing orbs hovered near a towering statue, their light casting shifting reflections across the dark floor. Crystals lined one wall, humming softly. Everything else was empty, the silence so thick it felt alive.
Himmel's hand went to his weapon as he hissed under his breath."Figures. A lone dungeon."