[First Floor – Training Ground]

  Dane had spent the last seven weeks in the training yard, sharpening more than just his axe. By combining his elemental affinities with traditional strikes, his chops, sweeps, and horizontal slashes, he discovered that even common techniques that weren't skills could evolve. Flowing Strike was one of the first: not a water attack per se, but something that emulated the nature of water.

  Over time, another truth surfaced: water wasn't the only thing that flowed. The idea of time slipping forward, lodged deep in his mind, especially after dying twenty-four times during his use of Chrono Anchor. There was a current to time.

  Two years of drilling his three-hit combo and eight years of killing dungeon monsters hadn't done as much for his axe proficiency as embedding that concept of flow: Axe Proficiency (Epic) 2/10→ Axe Style: Temporal Flow (Legendary) 1/5

  Dane believed in the eight-hour workday. When the artificial sun Jason had rigged rose over the camp around five a.m., Dane was already in the dirt, axe in hand. He trained until one in the afternoon, sharpening forms, rehearsing flow, seeking rhythm in every motion.

  His girlfriend hunted until dusk, so from one to six, Dane turned his attention to the militia. Teaching the basics, correcting stances, and more than once, knocking overgrown egos flat on their asses.

  That's when he met Tomas.

  Two weeks in, the boy caught his eye a scrawny fourteen-year-old with calloused palms and a look that had seen too much too young. But when he moved, it wasn't strength that set him apart. It was instinct.

  He was still two years away from being able to unlock the imperial system. But the Earthbound System didn't have an age limit as far as they could tell.

  Tomas didn't fight like he'd been taught. He fought like he'd been born for it.

  Tomas's spear struck the target post with a dull thud, splitting the worn leather wrap just off-center. He winced, adjusted his stance, and tried again. A clean thrust this time, faster and tighter.

  Dane stood off to the side, arms folded, watching without a word. Sweat beaded down the boy's forehead, but his breathing stayed steady. Dane had always been on the other side of this. He emulated his first wrestling coach, Felix, just a suggestion here or there to make it click. When Dane first started diving, he wished that someone had told him how important it was to train his skills instead of just gaining stat points.

  Dane tossed Tomas a weighted training shield. "Strap it on."

  Tomas caught it mid-air and blinked. "I thought this was spear day."

  "Today's also 'don't get impaled' day." Dane nodded toward the dummy. "You'll thank me when something swings back."

  Tomas groaned, but he obeyed, the shield feeling awkward on his smaller frame. He shifted back into a ready stance.

  "Again," Dane said.

  The boy struck. Clumsy, but improving. His mana pulsed just behind the motion. Stonewall was his first skill, and it reinforced physical items. Tomas tightened his stance. Dane stepped forward, nudging his elbow.

  "You're overextending. Control beats power." He instructed.

  "I want to hit harder." The boy complained.

  "You want to stay alive." Dane's voice was flat. "Hit harder after that. What have I taught you?"

  "Never say no to food offered by Amelia?" He said with puzzlement.

  "No, you need to feel out the rhythm of a fight. Power is good, but even an E rank can take down a late D grade if he controls the flow. Hitting harder leaves you open and no room to counter."

  Footsteps approached the soft clicks that could only mean a pissed off girlfriend. Dane didn't turn, hoping that if he acted aloof, the problem would sort itself out.

  "Training's over," Amelia said with finality.

  Tomas lowered his spear, obeying the commandress. Dane continued the drill, utterly focused.

  "We've got ten more..." Tomas said.

  "No, you don't." Amelia stepped into view; her fatigues were dirty from the hunting shift that she had just completed. Her eyes were sharp, and her lips pressed tight.

  "I'm back from work," she said, voice edged and pointed at Dane. "Three rabbits and half a boar. You haven't eaten yet."

  "I had a ration..." Dane tried to say.

  "That's not eating." Her gaze flicked to Tomas. "You run home, you are dismissed. Go shower. If you collapse from training on an empty stomach, I'll let Mara use you for practice sutures."

  Tomas looked between them and wisely backed off without argument, shield dragging slightly behind.

  Dane wiped sweat from his neck and sighed. "You get dramatic when you're worried."

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  "I get dramatic when you're stupid."

  She grabbed his hand, tugging him toward the outer path. "Come on. You're cooking tonight. You promised."

  "I did?" He raised an eyebrow.

  "Yeah. Seven weeks ago. You said, and I quote, 'If you give me a chance, I'll cook something worth remembering.' Well, I don't remember any of your other dishes."

  He let himself be pulled along, a smile tugging at his mouth. "I say a lot of things."

  "You'd better mean this one."

  [Dane and Amelia's House – Later That Evening]

  The little house was a simple one, with two rooms and a hearth. The walls were stitched leather and salvaged wood. The floor was made of packed earth, a common feature among the structures that sprang up all over the first floor. They were easy to make and cheap. A wild garden was outside near the steps, smelling faintly of mint and old herbs.

  Dane stood over the skillet, flames dancing beneath. Rabbit and root vegetables sizzled in talo, filling the room with a rare peace.

  Amelia leaned against the counter, her damp hair from a rushed wash. Watching him cook. Outside, Amelia was fierce, and no one dared to mess with her. But at home, she was just a woman in love, and the mean exterior melted away.

  "I still can't believe you didn't burn the place down the first time." She joked

  Dane flicked a chunk of meat toward her. She caught it, blew on it, and popped it into her mouth.

  "I had Jason for quality control," Dane said. "He screamed when it caught fire. That helped."

  She smiled despite herself. "Seven weeks, huh?"

  "I know," Dane said

  "The elves are coming. We only have one more week of peace." Amelia said in a voice blooming with fear.

  "I know that, too," Dane said in a calm voice

  She hesitated. "Thinking of running again?"

  Dane's hands stilled. The rabbit in the pan continued to sizzle.

  "No." His voice was low and steady. "I'm thinking of finishing this."

  He met her eyes. There was a weight behind it, a resolve older than anger. Tired and heavy.

  "I want to take a team down to the fiftieth floor."

  Amelia blinked. "You're serious."

  "I need you, Jason, and Mara, too."

  She folded her arms tighter. "You want to bring a healer, a drunk, and your second in command into the dungeon? While the elves are about to storm us?"

  "If there's anything left down there, a core, a secret floor, a relic, something to turn the tide, it'll be at the bottom."

  "And if there's nothing?"

  "Then we come back with sore feet and wasted time." He paused. "But if I sit up here waiting to get pinned again, we'll lose more than time."

  Amelia searched his face. "And you think we'll make it back in time?"

  Dane waved his hand, putting on a show like a magician from before the cataclysm, and the portal opened up. "As long as I don't have to use chrono Anchor, we will be fine."

  She stepped forward, took the spoon from his hand, and stirred the pot.

  "You're an idiot," she said softly.

  "I'm your idiot."

  She snorted. "Not if you burn this stew."

  [Later That Night – Jason's Workshop, Beneath the Old Tavern]

  Crystal lanterns glowed soft blue, casting long shadows over tables cluttered by half-finished tools, rune-stamped scrap metal, and at least two empty whiskey bottles.

  Jason lounged back, boots up, goggles shoved into wild hair. Mara sat opposite, sleeves rolled, scrubbing dried blood from her fingernails with a scalpel. Neither looked up when Dane entered.

  "Either of you brought whiskey, or are you here to ruin my night?" Jason said.

  "Why not both?" Dane replied. Placing a bottle near the empty ones.

  Amelia followed him in, coat swapped for a long tunic, braid over one shoulder. She smelled of herbs and ash, tense but composed. Dane didn't sit. He grabbed chalk and drew a rough circle on the planning slate.

  "Fiftieth floor," he said. "This will be the last descent. We need to clear the dungeon before the Red Rage Forrest comes to claim their dungeon back. I want to ensure that if we do lose, then at least the dungeon they fought for will be worthless. Time is of the essence, so we leave at dawn."

  Jason raised an eyebrow. "Well, shit."

  Mara finally looked up, expression unreadable. "You're serious."

  Dane nodded his head, his eyes fierce and determined. The eyes that let everyone else know it was not a suggestion.

  Jason brushed the dust off a mana condenser schematic. "You think there's anything left down there? Or is this one of your suicidal legacy stunts?"

  "Does it matter?" Dane asked.

  Jason cracked a grin. "Not really. Just like to know which flavor of stupid we're doing."

  Dane tapped the chalk on the board.

  "Every floor on the lower level has a pattern; there is a boss arena, mana storms, and locked sectors. Each wing houses a miniboss. Kill them, and their deaths unlock three gates to the throne room."

  He sketched three branches feeding into a center.

  "They don't open all at once. That's the trick. Stagger the kills. Too fast, and the throne spawns reinforcements. Too slow, the others resurrect."

  Mara frowned. "You want the four of us to handle that?"

  "Yes," Dane said.

  "That's suicide," Mara replied.

  "Controlled suicide," Jason said. "Big difference."

  Dane continued. "The Earthbound System responds most to milestone clears. Not wandering and not grinding. Challenge. I think that's by design. Every king has given me a boss core that the system has accepted as tribute. It gets more powerful each time, and in turn, we all benefit from the increase."

  Jason folded his arms. "You think the system wants us to finish the dungeon?"

  "I know it does. What I am about to tell is confidential, but if you are going to risk your lives with me, then. I can at least tell you how the Earthbound system came to be."

  Dane went on to explain everything: the dungeon spirits, his bond with Dia. And the confrontation with the Empire that led to the creation of the new system.

  Amelia crossed her arms, leaning against the wall. "So you have a spirit girlfriend too?"

  Dane winced. "It's more than that. Dia was me, and I am Dia. When the Emperor ripped her out of my soul, I became a fractured Chronite, and I lost a piece of myself."

  "Got it, your dead spirit girlfriend is now the system that we cultivate through. Hearing you loud and clear, boss." Jason said, trying to lighten the mood.

  Dane gave him a long, thoughtful look, but didn't say anything.

  Amelia changed the subject. "As much as I like to hear what a special boy our Baron is. Let's get back on track with the plan. How long is the window in between kills we need to shoot for?"

  "Four or five minutes is ideal. Less than three and the throne enrages. More than six and the minibosses respawn."

  Mara raised an eyebrow. "That's an absurdly small window."

  "Yeah," Dane said. "Which is why we do it right."

  He marked five points on the diagram: three miniboss wings, two support positions.

  "Mara and Amelia take the left. Jason and I take the right." Dane said

  "What is my position?" Tomas asked.

  "I need you to stay here and keep training the militia. We have only been able to recruit 20 more since we took the first. You are one of the only ones from the old militia; they will respect you." Dane shot a look at his apprentice, one that said, 'If you don't listen to me this time, it's running until I puke.'

  Tomas looked like he wanted to argue. Like he was missing out on all of the action, but as quickly as the shine of defiance flashed, it was gone.

  Jason looked skeptical. "Are you really trusting the kid with command?"

  Dane met his gaze. "He's ready."

  Amelia said nothing.

  Mara leaned back, arms crossed. "And the throne?"

  Dane circled the center. "All of us. Together."

  Jason whistled low. "Death run in the morning, huh?"

  "Breakfast at six," Dane said. "Departure at seven, everyone meets at the telepad, it will take us to the 49th floor. And remember the time Dialation further down is higher. It will feel like a week, but barely any time will pass here."

  Mara cracked her neck. "I'll pack my tools."

  Jason raised the bottle. "To dumb plans and lucky bastards."

  Dane exhaled. "To making it back alive."

  Amelia watched them, voice quiet but steady.

  "If we clear the floor… what then?"

  Dane met her gaze. "Then we find out why Khronos chose me."