“Tristan!” she shouted, the darkness swallowing her up. Every step was an effort through the thick drifts of crushed leaves under her. “Tristan!”

Where was he? She lifted the card up, casting shadows all around her, and picked a direction.

“Tristan!” She was alone in the dark. Like Aidas had been. The thought lent fire to her, and she took a deep breath. “Tristan!”

Breathing heavily, spinning around, she waited. She was beginning to worry when she heard the sound of footsteps crunching towards her.

“For a small girl,” he noted, stepping towards her warily, his deck out, “you’re quite loud.”

Eila sniffed, brushing some sweat off her head. “You’re smaller than I am, first of all. Second of all, I need you to hear me out.”

“I’ll hear you out,” he said, stopping in front of her. “This isn’t some trick, right? Duran isn’t going to blast me with a [Pyrolance] or something like that?”

“No.” She sucked down another deep breath, and the words started spilling out of her. “Look, I know this is a lot to ask. You don’t know me, I don’t know you. But it’s clear that you’re strong, much stronger than a normal Apprentice. So, please… help me.” To her dismay, she realized she was crying.

She brushed the tears away with an angry hand and stepped forward, making him step back. “My brother, Aidas, we left him behind in the Dungeon. Me, Varya, and Marr, just, just left him. We only found three [Exit Passes], and he chose to stay. We left him behindto die. And I’m scared, no terrified, that I’m leading the others to their deaths as well. The other Guilds won’t help us. But if you’re with us, maybe we have a chance. So please,” she whispered, “please, please, please help us.”

Tristan looked stunned. He dismissed his deck and opened his mouth, then shut it again. He looked off to the side, his jaw muscles jerking up and down, and she saw that she was losing him.

“You’re a Dark user, right?” she said desperately. “I may not look it, but I’m an Adept forger, one of the best on the whole island. I specialize in Dark and Water cards. I’ll forge you whatever you want, free of cost. Anything, as many cards as you want.”

He narrowed his eyes. “You specialize in Dark and Water?”

She nodded, feeling a glimmer of hope spark in her chest. “My brother… he uses Water and Dark.” Please say yes. Please.

Tristan closed his eyes. She felt the world freeze around her.

When he opened them again, she knew what his answer would be. Her heart plummeted.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I can’t.” He summoned his deck, pulled out a card, and cast it.

She watched with dumb, detached eyes. The [Shadow Wolf] summoned, her head cocked.

“Rommie will take you back to the others,” he said. “Good luck.”

He turned to leave.

“Hey,” she called out, wiping her eyes roughly.

Tristan paused and then looked over his shoulder, his eyes dark and unreadable.

She pointed at the wolf. “Whoever inked her did a shit job.”

Before he could reply, Eila left, the wolf silently guiding her forward through the dark forest.

***

Tristan dreamed of death. Varya, Marr, Genn, Mosi, Duran, and Eila—most of all Eila—ripped apart in the Dungeon. Their pained faces screaming, fingers pointing at him in remonstration, judging him, blaming him. The boss, a shadowed figure in the darkness, with the word Adept floating over it, lurking.

When he awoke, he felt more tired than when he fell asleep. He ate a quick breakfast of [Basic Rations], already missing the taste of real food he’d gotten with the others the night before.

The others.

He shoved that thought aside as he started his day, grimacing. There was too much in his head, and a headache soon came.

He made his way back away from the Great Oak, and soon found more monsters. He killed them with ruthless efficiency; he didn’t even bother Summoning Rommie, wanting to do it himself.

The answers he’d gotten last night swirled around him. It’s the year 208, Genn had said. From what he could remember of the game’s lore, which admittedly he barely paid attention to, the world of The Eight Elements began at year 1 on release and advanced at an accelerated pace. Purely a flavor thing, no real developments to the world itself. He thought that by the time he reached Transcendent, the year was around 150, something like that.

Approximately sixty years had passed from his transition from the game into the real world. How much has changed? He learned from his interactions with the others yesterday that they were no NPCS—or at least, if they were, they were too real and life-like to make any notable distinction.

Tristan cast a [Shadow Spear] on a [Nightsworn Squire] with a little too much force; the card slammed straight through the monster’s head and broke through a tree on the other side, impaling into the tree behind that before dissipating. He collected the loot without looking, just thinking.

There’s a [Perk Reset Card] up for grabs at this Elemental Cup thing. That was critical information. It was in a month’s time; he remembered that months on this world were 40 days long, and there were eight of them. He needed to confirm the exact date when he reached Sol. He was going to enter that tournament and win.

He cast a [Nightmark] and [Bleeding Hamstring] combo, obliterating the torso of a [Hogrider Archer]. He needed to collect enough shards to finish off his Perks; also, his Duel last night had made him remember the value of having a high cast, spammable Attack in his deck, as well as a Support buff for his cast speed.

[Darkstar] will do for the Attack, he thought, looking at his available [Blueprints]. [Wolf’s Grace] for the speed. He set off to gather the materials.

Quickly, his mind inevitably turned to the news about the Transcedents. There were 23of them. A staggering amount, not to mention that there may be more hidden, not willing to reveal themselves. Once he reached Sol, he planned on figuring out the exact details of this expedition that Duran had mentioned.

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Mosi had scoffed at the idea of him joining them. He scoffed at that too. He wasn’t going to join them; he was going to beat them to it. But now, the invisible clock ticking away at the back of his mind had leapt to the forefront.

A part of him knew he was just distracting himself from what his thoughts really orbited around. He grit his teeth and threw himself into his hunt. Not letting him think of [Withering Roots], of the Adept boss, of Eila crying, begging for his help…

When he finally gathered everything he needed, including enough shards to finish off his Perks, the sun was setting. The sky was the color of blood, shafts of red light weeping through the thick canopy. He settled by a small pool and summoned his [Forge] to quickly make the two new cards.

As he was inking in the image of [Darkstar], a wicked, four-edged shuriken charged with Dark energy, all he could think about was Eila’s bitter words from last night.

Whoever inked her did a shit job.

Frowning, he paused his work and quickly summoned Rommie. She appeared, blinking up at him, ears cocked. He examined her closely and saw that there were parts of her that were smudged and blended into each other; her back legs seemed like an extension of her body, not its own separate appendages.

I didn’t even realize, he thought, recalling her. In the game, if you successfully forged a card, that was that. In the real world, that clearly wasn’t the case.

I specialize in Water and Dark cards

, Eila had said. A coincidence, or something more? He did need a forger, as he was already struggling pretty hard with the Apprentice cards. But she’s only Adept, he told himself forcefully. She won’t be able to keep up with the speed of my progression.

He returned to forging his cards, taking care to put more effort into his inking. His {Dark Shades} helped somewhat, he thought.

You have successfully forged 1x. [Apprentice/Dark/Attack] — Darkstar: Send out a shuriken of dark energy. (CASTS: 10)

You have successfully forged 1x. [Apprentice/Dark/Support] — Wolf’s Grace: Imbue your cards with a wolf’s grace, granting [Haste]. (CASTS: 2).

You have successfully acquired 4x. Apprentice forgeshards.

[Haste] was a useful buff that allowed cards to appear instantly in his hand when he wished for it, making him not need to physically pull the card off his deck. But now, he had more than the ten total slots allotted for Apprentice-rank.

He’d figure out his deck later. He dismissed the [Forge], trying his best to ignore Eila’s words still ringing in his ears, and unlocked his final Perk.

You have unlocked [Apprentice/Earth/Support Perk] — Shatter Stun: When Earth shields break, they explode, [Stunning] the target that broke it. (CASTS: 2).

That was it. He was done with the Apprentice rank. Tristan stood up. The sun had dipped beyond the horizon now, plunging the forest into darkness. He took a few steps backwards and was able to see through a gap in the canopy the looming giant that was the Great Oak towering above.

Sol is directly the opposite way, he thought, orienting himself.

He started walking in that direction. Peaceful. His only companion the chirping birds and murmuring trees.

Please, help me.

Tristan paused, grit his teeth, and kept walking. This time more hurriedly, as if he could escape his thoughts by increasing his speed. He found himself anxiously summoning and dismissing his deck, over-and-over again, like an anxious tic.

We just, just left him behind to die.

Tristan’s jaw clenched so tight he was afraid he’d break a tooth. A [Forest Goblin] hopped down from where it lurked on a tree branch, snarling at him. He snarled back as he stomped past, and the monster was left standing there, looking confused.

My brother… he uses Water and Dark.

Tristan forcefully pulled up thoughts about reaching Divine, the time limits imposed upon him, the Elemental Cup, and everything in-between. How he wasn’t here to make friends or be a hero. No, he was here to reclaim his rightful place at the top. Nothing else mattered; nothing else was of importance; nothing—

Whoever inked her did a shit job.

Tristan stopped.

Fuck.

***

Five hours earlier…

The entrance to [Withering Roots] was a giant tunnel bored into the base of the Great Oak, slanting downwards into the earth. From base to ceiling the entrance was well over a hundred feet tall, if not more; when she’d first arrived here with the twins and Aidas, they’d frowned at the size of it. Normally, from what she’d heard about this Dungeon, it wasn’t supposed to be this big.

Now that she’d met the beast that made the tunnel, it made sense.

Eila’s heart thumped madly as she approached the Great Oak with the rest of the Guild; a grim, determined mood fell over him the closer they drew.

As always, Eila craned her head back in a futile attempt at grasping the sheer size of the Oak. The tree was thousands of feet tall, the canopy so high and wide it seemed like a second sky. The legend went that Gaia, the God of Earth, had planted the seed of the Great Oak when she was still a mortal, and upon her ascension she blessed it to grow ever more. It was still growing, every year.

Or at least, it has been.

“Gods above and below,” Genn muttered, casting disbelieving eyes over the tree. “It’s actually dying.”

Eila was forced to agree. The Great Oak looked… well, decrepit. Instead of a strong gray trunk glimmering with veins of Earth energy, the whole thing was a flaking, harsh iridescent. She watched as pieces of bark—each piece as big as her, if not bigger—crumbled and peeled away in the wind, flying off into the air and splitting apart into smaller fragments. Its leaves were falling off by the ton every second, which was a testament to the sheer size of the tree that it still had leaves on it.

“Was the tree this bad when you came?” Duran asked, frowning worriedly.

“It was bad,” Varya said, “but it’s gotten worse. A lot worse.”

Duran grunted. Eila was well-versed enough in Duran-language to understand what that meant: You saw the tree in this state and still decided to go in without help?

It was fair. She still couldn’t believe it either; there was just something about her brother that made her believe in the impossible, that he was invincible and if she just followed him, everything else would fall in place.

Aidas, she thought, heart wrenching. We’re coming.

She wasn’t stupid; she knew her brother was dead. There was no way he could’ve survived being left alone in that boss room with the Devourer.

And yet… he was her older brother. A part of her still clutched onto that tiny ember of hope, fanning it, breathing life into it. She knew the others, her Guildmembers, also had a similar hope in them, even if they wouldn’t say it out loud. That’s why they were here, despite the other Guilds refusing to join them without more support.

Her thoughts turned to Tristan, then. She blushed when she thought about how she acted last night, how desperate she’d been to get this powerful stranger to help her. It was unfair of her to ask him to risk his life to help her.

I’m glad you said no, she thought as they came to the mouth. It stretched high above, the entrance blocked off by a thin veil of distorted air. I hope you find what you’re looking for.

Everyone double-checked their decks. As a forger, Eila’s battle capabilities were rather limited; she was still a Novice, and all her cards were basic Support cards to provide some usefulness to her group. But her true value would come in the rare materials and [Blueprints] that were unique to Dungeons. She would be able to forge cards for her friends if need be.

“All right,” Duran said, turning around to face them. “Are you guys ready?”

Varya nodded firmly. Genn grunted his assent. Mosi took a deep breath and jerked her head up-and-down quickly. Marr nodded once. Eila shut her eyes and sent a prayer to anyone who was listening.

She nodded.

“Then let’s go in.”

You have entered the [Withering Roots] Dungeon. Leaving is only possible through an [Exit Pass] or upon successful completion of the Dungeon.