Beyond the trap chamber, darkness swallowed the corridor. I could feel the dungeon's pulse growing heavier, almost sentient. My senses flared: subtle vibrations in the air, a faint metallic tang thicker than before, and movement in the shadows—enemies, traps, unknown tests.
Notice whispered: "Preparation ends. Performance begins. Next phase is unrelenting."
I flexed fingers experimentally, Best Welder thrumming with energy, Rhythm steady and guiding, Enhanced Perception alive and alert.
The corridor opened into a massive hall. Shadows moved—larger, faster, and smarter than any before. The dungeon's escalation was obvious. Every skill I had learned, every moral choice I had made, every beat of rhythm, every pulse of perception would be tested simultaneously.
I exhaled, chest rising and falling in perfect rhythm. My body trembled—not from fear, but anticipation.
Because I was Mizu. Broken once, yes—but ready. Learning, adapting, mastering, and about to face the dungeon's ultimate trial.