The ground leveled out.
After endless slopes, jagged rocks, and frozen wind, the path finally evened into a broad ridge that crowned the peak of the mountain.
Lucas paused, snow crunching beneath his boots. His breath fogged the air as he stared ahead.
There it was.
The summit.
Wide, open, and basked in light—pure sunlight, not the dim glow of some twisted sky. It bathed the mountaintop in warmth that didn't reach the skin but felt comforting all the same.
The wind was still sharp, but it wasn't cruel anymore.
He turned slightly. Lyss had stopped beside him, her eyes fixed forward.
Neither of them said anything.
Because they didn't need to.
Together, they walked the final steps.
A few meters ahead, nestled against the far edge of the summit, stood a structure—ancient, worn, but intact. It looked like a tower of some kind, maybe once a watchpost, now overgrown in places by vines and moss, half-buried by snow.
It stood maybe three stories high, with arched windows, no visible door, and a feeling of quiet abandonment.
Lucas exhaled slowly.
'After everything… this is what's up here?'
He didn't know what he had expected.
But it wasn't this.
And yet—somehow—it felt right.
The entrance was a stone archway, half-covered in ice. No door barred their way. Just cold silence and the faint sound of wind whispering through the walls.
Lucas stepped inside first, his eyes adjusting to the dim light.
The interior was larger than it looked from outside. A circular chamber stretched out before him, the walls covered in moss, cracks, and frost. Faint remnants of furniture—shattered tables, broken shelves—were scattered along the edges. Nature had claimed it long ago.
"What is this place?" Lucas muttered.
Lyss didn't answer. She was already moving past him, walking toward a spiral staircase winding along the wall.
They ascended.
The second floor had several small chambers—simple, empty rooms with collapsed beds and dusty corners. No threats. No signs of monsters.
Just old stone, and the feeling that something had once lived here… long, long ago.
On the third floor, a collapsed ceiling revealed the sky above. Snow had poured in, covering the floor in a pristine white sheet.
Lucas crouched, ran his hand over the cold surface, and looked up at the sun overhead.
'It's quiet. Too quiet.'
Back on the first floor, they found another stairwell—one leading down.
Lucas and Lyss exchanged a glance before descending carefully.
The basement was darker. Colder.
A large room opened before them, this one circular like the entrance chamber—but in its center stood something unexpected.
A strange structure—like an altar or control panel—stood silently in the middle. Metallic plates and runic engravings decorated it, but there was no obvious function. No switches. No glowing light. Just stillness.
Lucas stared at it for a while.
"Don't touch it," Lyss said quietly from behind him.
"Wasn't planning to."
She turned back toward the stairs. "Let's rest. We earned it."
They chose a room on the second floor.
The roof was partially intact, enough to keep the wind out. A few collapsed shelves lined the walls, and the floor was dry, save for one corner where snow had crept in. It would do.
Lucas cleared space near the wall while Lyss started setting up a small fire pit using stones from the tower's crumbling structure. They didn't speak much—both too tired, too used to the rhythm of surviving.
Lucas struck the flint using the edge of the Abyssal Reaper against a shard of stone, the sparks catching on dry moss and twigs they had carried in their packs. After a few moments of struggle, the fire came to life, crackling and dancing with welcome warmth.
He let out a breath and sat down, letting his tired body rest against the wall.
Lyss pulled out strips of dried meat and a couple chunks of cooked creature flesh wrapped in cloth.
Not ideal.
But better than starving.
She passed some to him without a word, and they began to eat.
The silence wasn't uncomfortable anymore.
It was earned.
The kind of quiet that comes after surviving something you weren't supposed to.
The flames cast flickering shadows on the walls, their gear resting in the corner, weapons nearby, just in case.
After a while, Lucas broke the silence.
"This place is kinda peaceful."
Lyss nodded slowly, chewing. "For now."
He leaned back, watching the fire. His muscles ached. His soul still throbbed from overusing Soulrend.
But he was alive.
They both were.
And for the first time in weeks… they were safe.
The fire crackled quietly.
Lucas rested his head against the cold stone wall, arms draped loosely over his knees. The warmth from the flames softened the ache in his bones, and for once, his mind wasn't consumed by the next threat. No monsters. No hunger. No freezing wind.
Just quiet.
And Lyss, sitting across from him, legs crossed, cloak still draped around her shoulders.
He watched her for a second.
Then, lazily:
"Think the elf's still pissed at me?"
Lyss raised an eyebrow. "If she's smart, she is."
Lucas rolled his eyes. "Right. Thanks for the reminder."
She smirked faintly, poking at the fire with a stick. "Relax. You're doing fine. You got yourself an honest job now."
Lucas scoffed. "Yeah, sure. Babysitting the heir of a powerful family while getting dragged up a mountain full of monsters. Real honest work."
"You're alive, aren't you?"
He gave her a sideways glance. "Barely."
Lyss leaned back against the wall, eyes drifting toward the ceiling. "You could've walked away. But you didn't."
He didn't respond to that.
Instead, after a pause, he muttered, "Wonder what she's doing now. The elf."
Lyss was quiet for a moment. Then shrugged. "Still locked up, probably. Better fed than us, I bet."
"You do realize you locked her up, right?"
"I gave her a room. That's more than she had."
"…Fair."
They fell silent again, watching the flames dance.
Not uncomfortable.
Just quiet.
"When I get back…" Lyss spoke suddenly, voice softer than usual. "I'll try to help her. The elf. Find where she's from, if she had anywhere to go."
Lucas blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity in her tone.
He looked up from the fire, studying her face. No sarcasm. No teasing smirk.
Just quiet conviction.
"…You don't owe her that," he muttered.
"I know." She stared into the flames. "But maybe someone should still try."
Lucas didn't say anything for a while.
Then:
"You really want to save the world or something?"
Lyss smirked faintly. "Just trying to do something good with what I have."
'And I'm just trying to survive.'
He leaned back against the wall again, letting the silence settle. A gust of wind passed through the cracks in the structure, but the fire held steady.
He wasn't sure what made him speak next.
"My mom died giving birth to me. Never met her."
Lyss glanced at him, surprised.
"My dad raised me. Until… Rift break hit the district where we lived. He didn't make it out."
"…I'm sorry."
Lucas shrugged. "I've had worse days."
He meant it. Mostly.
There was a pause.
Then Lyss looked down at the floor, her voice quieter than before. "My family doesn't really care where I go. What I do. Long as I don't mess up their name."
Lucas gave her a look. "That sounds fake as hell."
She smiled. "It's not. They like control, not people."
Lucas let out a tired breath. "So… we're both screwed-up in different ways."
She nodded. "Seems like it."
The fire burned lower now, glowing embers replacing the dancing flames. Shadows crawled up the cracked walls, stretching long and quiet.
Neither of them spoke.
Lucas sat still, arms draped over his knees, head tilted back against the cold stone wall. His eyes were half-closed, but he wasn't asleep. Just… still.
Lyss sat across from him, legs folded, fingers resting loosely on her lap. She didn't fidget. Didn't look away.
They'd spent weeks together—fighting, climbing, bleeding.
And now, finally, they'd stopped moving.
For a while, it was enough.
The wind howled softly beyond the broken tower walls. The summit stretched behind them, vast and quiet beneath the starlit sky.
Lucas let out a breath.
"I didn't think I'd make it this far."
Lyss looked over at him. "You did."
"…Yeah."
He glanced at her.
She didn't smile. Didn't nod. Just met his gaze and stayed there.
Something unspoken passed between them.
Understanding. Tiredness. Something warmer than either would ever admit.
Then she stood, brushing the snow from her cloak.
"I'll take first watch," she said, walking toward the entrance.
Lucas watched her go. His eyes lingered for a second too long before he closed them.
'Yeah. You're doing fine, asshole.'