Alex shot out of the fissure like a bullet, his body twisting midair before slamming down onto the rough stone. His boots struck with such force that sparks scraped across the ground, and the impact sent a ripple of dust bursting outward in a wide ring. He landed heavy, knees bending to absorb the shock, but there was no hesitation in his movement—instinct snapped his head around at the sound behind him.

The cave mouth convulsed with a grinding roar as jagged slabs sheared loose from the ceiling, crashing down one after another in a deafening cascade. Within seconds, the passage was gone, sealed under tons of fractured rock. The realization hit him as he watched the stone settle into place: the maze hadn't been a labyrinth sprawled across the mountain's interior but a hollow carved into its very heart—and that heart was now collapsing in on itself.

He felt it through the soles of his boots, a steady vibration that climbed up his legs and rattled his bones. The mountain itself was trembling, the quake throbbing with a rhythm that felt almost like a heartbeat. The entire massif quivered as though burdened by its own weight, hairline cracks splitting across its flanks, sending cascades of dust pluming out of hidden vents and fractures. The explosion he had unleashed below hadn't simply annihilated the brood—it had destabilized the mountain's core, rupturing its spine in a way that nature alone never could.

Alex flexed his fingers, letting the faint tremor run through his arms, registering the subtle vibration that lingered in his bones like the aftershock of a struck bell. A faint smirk touched his lips, equal parts pride and rueful acknowledgement. "Guess I overdid it," he muttered under his breath.

Then the system chimed, a sharp, crystalline note that cut cleanly through the rumble of the mountain.

Ding

[You have killed multiple Scorpion][You have received title: Insect Killer][Description: All attributes increase by 30% when facing insectoid creatures]

Alex tilted his head, lips twitching at the corner. For all the chaos he had just survived, the system still had the gall to package it into neat little lines of text. "Not bad," he muttered, voice dry, "bug spray deluxe."

He didn't have time to savor the thought. The next prompt unfolded with a ripple of light.

[Apocalypse Baby Kicking In][You have received title: Baby Slayer]

He blinked once. Then again, slower. "…What?"

The description scrolled into view, casual and damning all at once:

[Description: You cause irrational maternal fears to mothers.]

His jaw went slack. "WTF."

The words slipped out unfiltered, an instinctive reaction that echoed faintly in the open air. He stared at the glowing window as though staring harder might make it vanish, waiting for the letters to glitch out or dissolve like a system hiccup. But the text held steady, bright and unrelenting, as if mocking him for doubting it in the first place.

"What the hell is this supposed to mean?" Alex muttered, dragging a hand down his face until his palm pressed against his mouth. His eyes stayed locked on the glowing text, as if sheer disbelief might force it to change. "Does this… does this actually work on humans too?"

The thought froze him mid-breath. Then, slowly, almost against his will, a grin crept across his lips. It wasn't the kind of grin that came from humor—it was darker, edged with curiosity. "Now that," he whispered, voice low, "that could be fun."

An image sparked in his mind—him stepping casually into a crowded village square, saying nothing, doing nothing, yet every mother in sight stiffening in unison. Arms would tighten around children, eyes darting with sudden, irrational dread, panic blooming for no reason they could explain. It was sick. Twisted. And yet, undeniably effective. Fear was power, and power didn't care if it was rational.

He exhaled a short laugh, shaking his head as if the absurdity of it might roll off his shoulders. "Baby Slayer," he scoffed under his breath. "What a twisted system you are."

The notifications dissolved one by one, leaving only fading sparks in his vision.

The mountain groaned one last time, then settled into silence, its tremors softening to a deep, resentful rumble that echoed through the stone like a grudge.

Alex finally lifted his gaze to face whatever lay ahead—

And froze.

Cold washed over him in an instant, creeping from the base of his spine upward, each vertebra locking in place as if gripped by icy fingers.

Instinct whispered before thought could catch up: danger.

The ground ahead dropped off in a sheer wall, crumbling into a vast emptiness that stretched beyond sight. It looked like a lake drained by some god's whim, a massive pool stripped of its water until nothing remained but a dry, sunken basin.

And it wasn't just big. It was endless.

He walked to the edge, boots scraping the brittle stone, and looked down. Jagged scars ran along the basin floor. The air smelled of ozone and dust. Shadows rippled far below, warping in shapes too large to be natural.

Then his gaze caught the pillars.

Colossal stone shafts jutted upward from the basin, evenly spaced yet spread far apart, like a forest petrified in mid-growth. Each towered as high as where he stood, their tips lost in faint mist, their sides carved by erosion and time. They were the only bridges across this impossible gorge.

Alex narrowed his eyes. A flash of gold flickered across his vision as he activated farsight. The basin sharpened. The mist peeled back. And then he saw them.

Movement.

Creatures prowling between the pillars, their bodies sliding across stone like ink bleeding on parchment. Each shape was fractured, warped—difficult to anchor in the eye. Their ranks flickered into view for a heartbeat, stamped with the same label as the queen: [Void].

No other information. No name. No level. Just that one damning word.

Danger.

Alex's lips parted in a hiss. If the queen had been a nightmare, whatever stalked this basin was something worse. Still, he couldn't help but feel the familiar pull in his chest—the gravity of challenge.

"So," he murmured, scanning the endless gorge. "That's the next stage, huh?"

The pillars were far apart. To cross them, he'd have to leap—hundreds of meters at a time. One mistake, and he'd fall into the basin, into the waiting mouths of whatever void-spawn slithered down there.

The smart move would've been caution. Calculations. A safe plan.

But Alex wasn't here for safe.

He looked out at the chasm, the monsters drifting like phantoms, the pillars like stepping stones left by giants. His pulse quickened. His blood hummed.

Fun. That was the word his mind latched onto.

It didn't matter if the gorge stretched into infinity, or if the void-born beasts tore mountains apart with a glance. It didn't matter if every jump was a coin toss between survival and death.

All he could see was a playground.

Alex straightened, brushing dust from his cloak, and stepped back from the edge. His eyes gleamed as he whispered, almost to himself:

"Let's see how far this rabbit hole goes."

And with the tremor of the mountain fading behind him and the abyss yawning ahead, Alex readied himself to jump.