[POCO'S POV]
"Damn it."
I lost Kelly back in the Crystalline Lake Biome. Again. She's like a wandering spirit with no shrine—I swear, I should've tied a glowing string to her wrist. Even with a map, she finds ways to get lost in straight lines. It's a gift. A cursed gift.
I've been tracking Morgana.
She's my real target. I confirmed it using a Target Vision card—forged at one of those hidden crafting altars buried beneath a fungal grove. Took two hours, three rare ingredients, and nearly getting eaten by a bog wyrm. But when the vision activated, her name floated above the scroll like it wanted to haunt me.
Morgana.
Just the name made my spine twitch. Sounds like someone who recites curses with a smile. If your name sounds like a villain from an old tragic saga, you're probably not someone I want close.
To make it worse, I saw where she was going.
The Phantom Trail Scroll helped me catch her movement—barely. A blurred shimmer, moving toward the Obsidian Temple Biome. That scroll only works for a minute, and even then, it doesn't show details—just heat trails, footsteps, and faint movement echoes.
Still, it was enough.
That's why I'm headed there now.
Not just because there might be a legendary card, but because she's going there too.
If I'm going to face her, it'll be on ground I've already studied. On terms I can shape.
I marked the Obsidian Temple using my Cartographer's Insight. It wasn't on the public map—but I saw it during a rare pulse from the scroll's activation. Hidden in shadow. Remote. Difficult to reach. Which means valuable.
Getting here hasn't been fun.
I had to cross a stormy desert, dodge two sandworms, and tiptoe past a nest of glass scorpions that explode if you even breathe wrong. So whatever's inside that temple better be worth it. Preferably something that doesn't involve venom, fire, or surprise moral tests.
"Okay. That should be good."
I mark another wall with chalk dust and a pinch of spellpowder—just enough to find my way back. I've been doing this since I entered the outer ruins. A system. So I don't get lost. I should really teach Kelly this—but let's be honest. She'd probably get lost on the way to learning how not to get lost.
Still... this dome.
It's massive. Alive, almost.
Every region feels like it's breathing. Like it was designed to test not just our strength—but our instincts. Whoever made this place? They weren't just building an exam.
They were building a trial of survival.
It makes me think—who even built this? The Headmaster? Sigrid? That woman floats like a specter and talks like a thunderclap wrapped in silk. If she's the one controlling this dome, she's not just powerful—she's rewriting the rules of reality for fun.
***
"Alright, according to the scroll, her trail ends here."
I tapped the side of the map again—just to be sure. The glowing red thread from the Phantom Trail Scroll flickered a few more steps, then vanished like a dying ember right outside this cursed zone.
I stared at the temple ruins in front of me.
"So this is the Obsidian Temple, huh?"
I expected black stone. Maybe a few fancy carvings. Something dramatic and ancient-looking.
What I got?
Graves. Webs. Fog. And stones that look like they've been crying for the last decade.
There were broken statues with their heads missing, vines hanging like nooses from dead trees, and—oh yeah—literal grave markers lined along the path like some welcoming committee of doom.
One of them still had a cracked helmet resting on top.
"Nice touch," I muttered. "Really sells the 'you might die here' vibe."
Every few steps I took, the ground crunched like bones. Not even sure what I was stepping on anymore. Roots? Rocks? Failed examinees? Could be all three.
The worst part?
It felt like someone was watching.
And not just the usual I'm being tracked kind of watching.
No. This was "the dead are making eye contact with your soul" level of watching.
I rubbed my arms, and sure enough—goosebumps.
Great. That means either someone's here… or I've been narrating my own horror story.
I glanced at one of the gravestones again.
"If that thing twitches, I'm out."
Still nothing. Good. I'd hate to die before I even step inside.
KCHHH-KCHHH-KCHHH.
"What the hell is that noise?" I muttered, freezing mid-step. "Creepy doesn't even begin to cover it."
A blast of cold air swept past me—sharp enough to bite through my coat. Instinct kicked in.
The sound—like sharpened bones scraping together—was getting closer. Fast.
I spun around. "Stone Wall!" I slammed my palm into the dirt, and a chunk of earth rose behind me just in time to block the incoming—
CRACK.
The wall cracked open. Three giant spiders burst through it, legs flailing, bodies snapping. Two of them crumpled immediately, crushed by the impact of their own charge. The third one? Half-alive, twitching under the rubble, its fangs still clicking.
"Great. Spiders again," I muttered, backing away. "Because the trauma from the Spider Queen wasn't enough, huh?"
These weren't stone puppets like before. These were real. Fleshy. Hairy. Leaking goo. One had an eye missing and was still trying to crawl forward like a horror movie reject. Its insides squelched on the rocks.
I swung my giant pillar forward—my stone pillar extended like a battering ram—"Crater Smite!"
The ground shattered as my pillar slammed down, creating a ripple that split the terrain. The twitching spider popped like an overripe berry.
No time to celebrate.
Something clicked behind me.
I turned—and saw more.
A whole nest.
They were skittering from between cracks in the obsidian—fast, sharp-legged things with bulging abdomens and glowing green patterns on their backs. One of them hissed, and a glob of goo launched toward my face.
"NOPE." I ducked and rolled, pulling a pebble from my pouch.
"Pebble Flick!" The stone shot from my fingers and hit the spider's eye dead-center. It shrieked, stumbled, and got immediately crushed by my follow-up:
"Soil Spike!"
A thin spike shot from the ground beneath it—clean through the underbelly.
Another one lunged.
"Stone Shrapnel!"
I raised my pillar, smashed it midair, and sent a 360 burst of sharp rock flying. Shards tore through legs and eyes. It collapsed before reaching me.
But more were coming. Fast.
"Okay, okay—spider nest. This is definitely a spider nest. This was not on the brochure."
I pulled back and dropped a marker on the wall behind me—chalk powder and spell-dust mixed.
"Okay, Kelly," I muttered under my breath. "Remind me to teach you how not to wander near cursed graveyards and hidden arachnid zones."
The temple's edge was up ahead. Webs stretched between obsidian pillars like ancient banners, sagging and sticky. Half-rotted bones hung from some of them—examinees? Old ones? I didn't want to know.
A gust of cold air rolled through again.
The ground was uneven here, cracked and blackened. Spires of broken rock jutted out like shattered teeth. Some graves looked dug out from the inside.
"Yeah, this place isn't a temple," I muttered, checking my cards.
And I had a job to do.
"Alright," I whispered. "Come on then, you creepy web-spinning bastards. Let's dance."
Of course the spiders didn't stop.
Why would they?
As I kept heading toward the Obsidian Temple, more of them skittered from the cracks—dozens. Their legs clicked like broken clock gears, eyes glowing like cursed marbles, and I swear one of them hissed my name.
"Am I gonna face a Spider Queen again? Grrr! These insects are too annoying!"
I crushed one with a burst of stone, only for three more to leap out of a hollow tree. One landed on my shoulder. I spun and smashed it with my giant pillar.
"Get off! I don't need eight-legged passengers!"
Then I stepped on something that went SNNNK—like brittle string snapping in the wind.
A thin noise followed. Almost like the sound a spirit-thread might make—pulled tight by a ghostly hand.
Then...
The bones moved.
All around me, old skeletons began to twitch—human bones, animal bones, some with armor still hanging off their ribs like rusted jackets.
One skull rolled over to me, stopped at my feet... and then snapped back onto a spine with a creepy little click.
"...Oh come on."
The skeletons assembled themselves fast—like they'd been waiting for this. Some stood with broken swords, others with claws or antlers. Then the real problem slithered out.
Graves cracked.
The smell hit next—wet rot, like meat left out in the sun after being kicked by fate and forgotten by gods.
Zombies. Real ones. With patches of flesh still clinging to them, some dragging half a ribcage behind, some with missing jaws, others wearing their own faces like scarves.
"Okay, okay. That's new."
One zombie hissed at me. Another spat a glob of black tar onto the ground—it melted a rock.
"Oh, cool. Acid spit. Why not?"
The skeletons were fast. They moved like dancers in a horror play. One jumped at me with a broken spear. I blocked with my giant pillar, then spun and smashed its skull off its spine.
"Stone Wall!"
I summoned a barrier—but one zombie smashed right through it with a double-arm swing. Its flesh cracked like old leather, but it didn't stop. None of them did.
They kept coming. Biting. Slashing. Climbing over their own corpses just to reach me.
One of them suddenly screeched—and its arms extended like twisted vines, wrapping around my leg.
I glared down.
"I don't do hugs."
"Titan Swing!"
I planted my foot, lifted my giant pillar, and swung it in a full circle. The force tore through spiders, skeletons, zombies, and unlucky trees. Bodies flew in all directions. One skull bounced off a boulder and made a ding like a bell.
But more kept coming.
I was panting now, my arms heavy, my coat torn, and I think a spider got in my hair. Nope—two.
"This is really gonna end, huh?"
Dozens still left. I was covered in spider goo, grave dirt, and something I was not emotionally ready to identify.
I took one breath. Then another.
And said what every great tactician says when outnumbered, outmatched, and out of patience.
"There's only one way to end this…"
Everything stopped.
The spiders paused.
The zombies tilted their heads.
Even a skeleton lowered its sword, looking mildly curious.
I cleared my throat.
"RUN!!"
I turned and sprinted.
Like a penguin in panic.
Like a squirrel fleeing from an angry forest spirit who wanted its bones back.
Like someone who just realized he was very allergic to undead nonsense.
Behind me?
"SCREEEECH!!"
"HISSSSS!!"
"RAGGGHHHH!!"
Oh yeah. I was being chased.
I ran with my giant pillar dragging behind me like a stolen rolling pin from the gods. I slipped once, caught myself, and ran faster. A spider tried to leap—WHACK! I slapped it mid-air like a bug zapper.
"I HATE EVERYTHING HERE—!"
The Obsidian Temple gate was up ahead, glowing faintly.
Almost there.
"MOVE—!"
I dove through the archway like a flying loaf of bread.
The second I crossed?
BOOM.
The monsters stopped.
Couldn't follow.
Silence.
I lay flat on the temple floor, gasping, spread out like a starfish with trauma.
"…Okay," I wheezed. "New rule. No more mystery temples without a pest check."
I peeled a squished spider off my boot and flicked it.
Then I sat up. Groaned. Looked around.
And muttered:
"…Please tell me no one's watching this."