Scarlett POV
Ruth jumped.
Scarlett's eyes widened.
There was no warning.
One second he was beside her at the edge of the chasm, and the next he had thrown himself into open air like gravity had personally offended him.
"Oh, you—"
She kicked off after him and thrust a hand behind her.
Fire exploded from her palm.
The blast hurled her forward through the burning air, hair snapping back as lava churned far below. Ahead, Ruth caught the metal line with one hand.
The chain snapped taut.
Their descent curved.
Scarlett's grin came back instantly.
'Oh, we're doing this properly.'
The cliff wall rushed past in a blur of black rock and glowing ore. Ruth adjusted the line with quick, precise movements, angling their swing toward the first outcrop.
Interesting.
Metal shot from around his gauntleted arm and bit into the rock in a spray of sparks. His boots hit the ledge hard, and he twisted, hauling Scarlett in with him.
She landed much less gracefully.
"Mmgh—!"
Her boots skidded. She windmilled once, caught herself, then straightened at once and flicked her hair back.
"I meant to do that."
"No, you didn't."
Scarlett clicked her tongue.
"Rude. I'm contributing."
"You are," Ruth said, already crouching near the edge again. "Try contributing without falling off."
Scarlett stared at him.
Then grinned.
'Was that sarcasm?'
'...Hmmm. Can't tell.'
The outcrop cracked beneath them.
Ruth's gaze shifted to the next stretch of the chasm.
The ore vein was thinner.
The next outcrop was farther.
And the angle was worse.
Scarlett stepped beside him and looked down.
"Oh," she said. "That one actually looks annoying."
Ruth had already torn another length of metal free from the cliff wall. Ore twisted together into a thicker hooked line.
"This one swings wider," he said.
"You say that like I'm meant to find it comforting."
"You're not."
He drove the anchor forward.
It buried itself into a dark seam across the gap.
For a second, it held.
Then the seam cracked.
Scarlett's grin thinned.
"Oh, that's not ideal."
"It'll hold long enough," Ruth said.
That sounded suspiciously like hope.
He wrapped the line around his arm and stepped to the edge.
Then he jumped.
Scarlett burst out laughing despite herself.
"There is seriously something wrong with you—"
She launched after him a heartbeat later, fire blasting them forward.
The chain snapped taut.
This swing was faster.
Lower.
The lava surged close enough that even Scarlett felt the heat flare against her legs.
Then the anchor shifted.
A harsh crack rang out from the wall.
Scarlett's eyes snapped up.
The ore seam was tearing free.
"Ruth."
"I know."
The line jerked.
Their swing dipped.
The outcrop ahead slipped out of reach.
Scarlett narrowed her eyes.
"Oh, no you don't."
Flames burst around her free hand.
She twisted and fired a blast sideways.
The force shoved them just enough.
Ruth's head snapped toward her for half a second.
Then he moved.
Metal shot toward the outcrop ahead and bit deep into the rock. His boots hit first. The ledge cracked, but he planted himself and hauled hard.
Scarlett came in too fast.
"Wait—"
She hit shoulder-first, bounced once, then slid toward the edge.
Her hand found nothing.
Then Ruth caught her wrist.
Scarlett stopped dead, half hanging over a sea of lava.
For one brief second, neither of them spoke.
Then Scarlett looked down.
Then back up.
"Well," she said, voice a little thinner than usual, "that would've been embarrassing."
Ruth hauled her back up in one sharp pull.
She landed in a heap, hair in her face and pride somewhere below in the lava.
He let go and stepped back.
"You're welcome."
Scarlett pushed her hair aside and looked up at him.
A grin slowly returned.
"Oh? So you do know how to talk after saving a girl dramatically."
"That wasn't dramatic."
"I was literally dangling over molten death."
"You were being inefficient."
Scarlett stared at him.
Then laughed.
Actually laughed.
Ruth turned back to the chasm, already scanning the next route.
Scarlett got up and rolled one shoulder.
"Just so we're clear," she said, stepping beside him, "that save definitely raised your rating."
Ruth glanced at her. "I wasn't aware you were scoring me."
"Everyone gets scored."
"That sounds exhausting."
"It is. For everyone except me."
To her surprise, the corner of his mouth shifted.
Barely.
But enough.
Scarlett saw it.
And her grin widened.
The next gap killed it a little.
It was ugly.
The outcrop to the right was too narrow and too low. The ore veins ahead were thinner too, buried deeper into the cliff face.
Even Scarlett could tell this one was different.
"...That one's rude too," she said.
Ruth said nothing.
His gaze moved across the wall, the ore, the drop, the angle.
Then his blue eye deepened.
Scarlett noticed at once.
This time there was nothing playful in it.
Only focus.
Only pressure.
Ruth stepped to the edge and tore another strip of metal from the cliff wall, shaping it into a thicker anchor line.
"You're really using it now, huh?" Scarlett asked.
"One use," he said. "That's all this gets."
"Well. So I'm not the dramatic one anymore."
He drove the anchor across the gap. It buried itself into a jagged seam far ahead with a shriek of metal against stone.
Ruth tested the tension twice, then wrapped the line around his arm.
Scarlett stepped up beside him, flames curling around her fingers.
"So what's the plan?"
"You launch us first."
She blinked.
"First?"
"I'll handle the rest."
Scarlett looked at the distance again.
The far side looked much too far away.
The lava below looked eager.
Ruth looked completely serious.
For some reason, that made her grin come back.
"Wow," she said, "you really do know how to make a girl feel safe."
"Scarlett."
His voice was level.
"Don't hold back on the first burst."
Her grin sharpened.
"Now that," she said, stepping closer, "was almost exciting."
Ruth jumped.
Scarlett launched after him immediately, fire detonating behind them.
The blast shoved them forward hard enough to tear the wind past her ears. The chain snapped taut, dragging them into a brutal arc over the lava below.
Fast.
Too fast.
The heat surged viciously around them.
Even Scarlett felt it now.
"Ruth."
"I know."
The line strained.
The anchor groaned.
The far ledge was still too far.
They were going to fall short.
Ruth's blue eye flared deeper.
The pressure around him changed at once.
Scarlett felt it before she understood it.
Then he planted his free hand against the metal line wrapped around his arm—
and released it.
Repel.
Everything around them exploded outward.
The force slammed through the chain, through Ruth, through Scarlett, through the air itself. Their arc violently changed as the stored momentum burst free.
Scarlett's eyes widened.
"Oh, that is insane—"
They shot upward.
Higher.
Farther.
The lava dropped away in a blur.
The ledge rushed toward them.
Ruth moved first.
Metal tore from the line and bit into the rock face. His boots hit the ledge a heartbeat later, skidding hard as cracks spread beneath the impact.
Scarlett came in too fast again.
"Don't you dare—"
She fired a burst beneath herself, stealing just enough momentum to keep from smashing face-first into the cliff.
Instead, she crashed into Ruth's side.
They staggered.
The ledge groaned.
For one ugly second, it looked ready to break.
Then it held.
Silence.
Behind them, the anchor line snapped loose and vanished into the lava.
Ruth exhaled hard.
Scarlett turned to look at him properly.
His breathing was heavier now. The blue in his eye had dulled slightly, like the move had cost him more than he wanted to spend.
She stared for a second.
Then let out a low whistle.
"Okay," she said, still catching her breath. "That was hot."
Ruth gave her a long look.
Scarlett's grin returned at once.
"I mean the move. Obviously."
Ruth looked away.
"That took a bit out of me."
Scarlett's gaze lingered on him for a beat.
Then she folded her arms.
"Yeah," she said lightly. "I figured."
He crouched briefly, one hand braced against the ledge.
Scarlett noticed that too.
This time, she didn't joke right away.
Instead, she peered ahead.
The rest of the route looked narrower now, but manageable. More ore veins. More ledges. Less impossible.
Then she looked back at him.
"So," she said brightly, "the suicidal heroics is part of the VIP treatment?"
Ruth rose to his feet.
"Yes."
Scarlett grinned.
"Aww. I do feel special."
Ruth let out a tired sigh and started walking.
Scarlett fell into step beside him.
This time, her smile came easier.
'He's not as boring.'
'I'll give him that.'
The path beyond the chasm narrowed into jagged black stone lit by thin veins of molten red.
Scarlett glanced sideways.
Ruth's breathing had steadied again.
Of course it had.
"You know," Scarlett said, "for someone this dramatic, you really don't talk enough."
"I talk when it matters."
Scarlett snorted. "That sounded cooler in your head."
Ruth glanced at her.
The faintest smile touched his mouth.
Scarlett blinked.
Oh.
A low hiss echoed from somewhere deeper ahead.
Ruth's expression sharpened.
"Stay close."
Scarlett's grin returned.
"Fine. But only because the VIP treatment's been acceptable so far."
Ruth sighed and kept walking.
Scarlett followed.
This time, the silence between them no longer felt so unfamiliar.
.
.
Xavier POV
Xavier had assumed Seth would be easy to walk with.
Quiet, yes.
Serious, probably.
But easy enough.
The path twisted through dark volcanic stone, lit from below by thin veins of lava. Heat rolled through the air in slow waves, though neither of them seemed especially bothered by it.
Xavier glanced at Seth and smiled lightly.
"Well, at least I got paired with someone normal."
'This should be manageable.'
Seth looked at him.
Then he said, "I don't like you."
'...That was blunt.'
Xavier's step nearly hitched.
There was no anger in Seth's voice.
No challenge.
He said it with the same calmness someone might use to comment on the weather.
For a second, Xavier just stared at him.
Then he laughed once, because surely—
"That's a blunt way to start."
'Did I... do something wrong?'
"Yes."
Seth looked forward again and kept walking.
Xavier's smile stayed on his face, but it had to work harder now.
"Well," he said, "that's interesting."
"I thought honesty was better than pretending."
Seth paused for a moment.
"Even now, you're probably asking yourself if you did something wrong."
Xavier's smile held, though only just.
'Keep smiling.'
"That's a little presumptuous."
"No," Seth said. "It's just obvious."
The path beneath them crunched softly underfoot.
Heat drifted through the air in slow waves, but somehow the silence between them felt heavier.
Xavier glanced at him. "You seem very sure of yourself."
Seth met his eyes for a second.
"I am."
Xavier let out a quiet breath through his nose, something almost like a laugh.
"And if I said you were wrong?"
"I'd say you prefer being liked to being understood."
That made Xavier go quiet.
Seth looked forward again.
"You're the kind of person who checks himself first whenever someone reacts badly to him," he said. "Even when the problem isn't yours."
Xavier's smile thinned slightly.
"That sounds like you've thought about this."
"I have."
"Why?"
This time, Seth did not answer immediately.
When he finally spoke, his voice remained as calm as before.
"Because people like you are irritating."
Xavier's brows lifted.
Seth continued walking.
"You're kind. You're selfless. You make people feel at ease."
None of that sounded like praise coming from him.
"And?"
"And people mistake that for harmlessness," Seth said. "Including you."
That one landed harder than Xavier expected.
He kept his smile in place anyway.
"You've formed a lot of opinions about me."
"Yes."
"From what? One dungeon?"
Seth looked at him again.
"No," he said. "From watching you ruin yourself and call it natural."
Xavier's smile did not disappear.
But it did become harder to hold.
'So this was the kind of person he was in private.'
For the first time in a long while, someone had said something to him that did not feel easy to laugh off.
He glanced at Seth.
The other boy's expression had not changed.
No smugness.
No satisfaction.
Just certainty.
"What exactly does that mean?" Xavier asked.
Seth answered at once.
"It means your self-sacrificing nature is predictable."
The heat rolling through the path suddenly felt sharper.
Xavier kept walking.
"So that's what this is?" he said lightly. "You don't like me because of that?"
"No," Seth said. "I don't like you because you are careless with something other people would protect with everything they have."
That made Xavier go quiet for half a second.
'No hesitation at all.'
Then he laughed once, soft and breathy.
"That sounds almost personal."
"It is."
The answer was immediate.
Uncomplicated.
Xavier looked at him properly now.
Seth's gaze stayed ahead, fixed on the narrowing path before them.
"You are talented," Seth said. "More than most. You know that. I know that. Everyone does."
His voice remained level.
"But when people like you decide to break yourselves for others, everyone else is expected to admire it."
The stone beneath their feet grew narrower, the walls of volcanic rock rising higher on either side. Thin rivers of lava glowed through the cracks, and somewhere ahead, something low and distant rumbled.
Seth continued.
"I don't."
Xavier's expression softened into something quieter.
"Then what do you do?"
"I judge it for what it is."
Seth finally looked at him.
"Waste."
That word settled between them like a blade.
For the first time, Xavier had no immediate smile for it.
The path opened ahead into a broad slope of black volcanic stone, broken by glowing cracks and shallow pools of lava. Ash drifted through the air in fine grey strands, almost easy to ignore at first.
Xavier's eyes lingered on the path ahead before returning to Seth.
"You talk like you've already decided who I am."
"I have."
That bluntness should not have been as unnerving as it was.
Xavier forced a small smile back onto his face.
"And who exactly am I?"
Seth's answer came without hesitation.
"You are the kind of person who would rather damage yourself than let someone else carry the cost."
His mismatched eyes stayed on Xavier now.
"And you think that makes you good."
The smile on Xavier's face thinned.
Seth's voice did not rise.
If anything, it grew calmer.
"I think it makes you dangerous. Mostly to yourself."
A silence followed.
Not empty.
Pressing.
Then Xavier noticed the ash.
There was more of it now.
What had been a few drifting flakes had thickened into something darker, denser, gathering low over the black stone ahead like smoke that refused to rise.
His gaze shifted toward it.
The haze rolled slowly across the slope, swallowing the glowing cracks one by one.
Seth noticed it too.
His eyes moved away from Xavier and toward the spreading dark.
Then he said, as though continuing the same conversation,
"You've regressed."
'...So it was visible.'
Xavier looked back at him.
'I thought I hid it well.'
This time, the words landed cleanly.
No room to dodge them.
No room to pretend he had misheard.
Seth's eyes moved over him once, precise and unpleasantly observant.
"Your mana circulation is rougher than it was after the arena," he said. "Your breathing is slightly off. Your recovery is slower. And you keep smiling whenever something gets too close to the truth."
A warm gust rolled across the slope, carrying burnt grit with it.
But the ash did not disperse.
It stopped.
Hung in the air.
Still.
Xavier looked toward it fully now.
The haze had gone black.
Not smoke.
Not dust.
A veil.
The world ahead was disappearing behind it.
Seth's eyes narrowed.
"Don't breathe too deeply."
That was all the warning Xavier got.
The ash surged and swallowed them whole.
Inside, the world changed.
The heat dulled.
Sound dulled.
Even the light seemed to die, smothered beneath layers of drifting black.
Xavier could still see Seth.
Barely.
Just the outline of him ahead, moving through the fog with that same steady pace as before.
"Well," Xavier said lightly, though even his own voice sounded muted in the dark, "this is intimate."
Seth ignored that.
Of course he did.
Ash slid around their legs. Their shoulders. Their faces.
The ground beneath Xavier's boots remained solid, but only just. The black stone below was becoming harder to read, its edges blurred beneath the drifting dark until rock, shadow, and ash all looked the same.
Then Seth stopped.
So suddenly Xavier nearly walked into him.
The silence deepened.
"What is it?" Xavier asked.
Seth did not answer at once.
When he finally spoke, his voice was lower.
"The ground sounds wrong."
A thin crack echoed somewhere ahead.
Then another.
Xavier's eyes widened.
And beneath his boot, the black stone split.