The lights here flickered harder. Less stable. Some didn't flicker at all, they just glowed weirdly, pale green like they were powered by leftover regret.
Lucen kept his pace slow and even.
He didn't draw any spells.
Didn't speak.
He just kept one eye on the fog.
And the other on his mana bar.
Still full.
Still calm.
Still waiting.
Like something in the system knew this wasn't over.
—
The next hallway was shorter.
The ceiling dipped low, almost claustrophobic. Pipes jutted out like metal ribs. A cracked sign on the wall read ZONE MAINT, before the last letters disappeared under a sheet of melted rust.
Rin slowed down first.
She held up one hand, palm out.
"Door," she said.
Ahead, tucked between two pillars, sat a recessed frame. The kind of door that looked like it had been locked for years but somehow forgot how to stay closed.
Maika stepped beside her. "Cache room?"
Kell nodded. "Possible. Drift layout sometimes drops them mid-node."
Lucen stayed back.
The fog didn't. It crept forward before him like it wanted to knock first.
Kell pushed the door open with his foot.
It creaked hard. Louder than it should've. Metal dragged against stone. The sound echoed down the hallway behind them like it was telling someone, somewhere, exactly where they were.
Lucen winced.
'Subtle. Very subtle. Love that for us.'
Inside, the room was maybe five by five meters. Half-lit. Storage crates along one side. A toppled shelf. No enemies.
Maika stepped in first.
Then Rin.
Kell followed, hand near his belt.
Lucen paused in the doorway.
His eyes scanned the wall to the right.
Then stopped.
There.
Just behind the shelf.
A glyph.
Not active.
Not glowing.
Not system-synced.
But real.
Hand-drawn. Rough.
And worse than that—
It looked like something he would've drawn.
Lucen took one step forward.
Another.
Then crouched low beside the shelf and stared at the symbol.
It wasn't complete.
Two of the flow lines stopped halfway through their arc. One anchor curve looped the wrong direction. No mana signature. No trace code.
But the structure was there.
Triangle.
Spinal axis.
Compression loop at the core.
He swallowed once.
'This is a kinetic base.'
It was crude.
Wobbly.
Like someone had tried to build a push spell from scratch with no guide and gave up halfway through.
Lucen reached toward it, then stopped.
His hand hovered inches away.
The system window flicked open on its own.
[Detected: Unsynchronized Glyph Input]
Matching Pattern: 46%
Warning: Incomplete spell structure
Source: Unknown
Recommend: Observation only
Lucen didn't touch it.
He looked at the stroke direction. The way the chalk bled at the edges. Whoever drew this used a blunt stick, not a casting marker.
He could almost see the shape forming in his mind.
It was wrong.
But not stupid.
Like someone had figured out the bones of a spell without understanding the blood.
He whispered, "What the hell."
Maika's voice echoed from the other side of the room. "Hey Lucen, you want in on this?"
He didn't answer.
He kept staring at the wall.
'Someone built this by hand. Not a system. Not a scroll. They just tried. Like I did.'
His fingers itched.
Not to fix it.
To understand it.
To see where it would've gone.
But he couldn't cast it. Not without a slot. Not without risking something breaking.
He stepped back slowly.
The system dimmed the display.
[Glyph ignored. No data copied.]
Maika peeked over the crates. "We found a scroll pouch and a cracked sigil core. Nothing big. Just decent salvage."
Lucen nodded. "Cool."
He didn't sound convincing.
Maika raised an eyebrow.
"You alright? You've got that 'I just saw a ghost and I'm trying to look cool about it' face."
Lucen smiled faintly. "Just a weird marking on the wall."
"Was it shaped like a clown?"
He blinked.
"What? No."
"Good," she said. "Because if it was, I'm leaving."
Lucen didn't respond.
He looked once more at the wall.
Then followed the others back out of the room.
The fog met him again at the threshold.
And for the first time, he thought maybe it wasn't watching him.
Maybe it was waiting for him to finish what someone else had started.
—
They left the cache room in a loose line.
Lucen kept looking over his shoulder, not at the path behind them, but at the glyph. The one on the wall. The one someone else had tried to build.
The fog hadn't pulled back.
If anything, it thickened around the doorframe. Just enough to make the metal look blurry.
Maika walked ahead, chatting under her breath like she was narrating her own video feed. "Three crates, no alarms, one scroll pouch, plus that busted sigil. Honestly not bad. I've had worse days."
Kell adjusted his gloves for the third time in ten steps.
Rin stayed close to the left wall. Silent. Watching shadows like she didn't trust the floor.
Lucen felt the same.
His boots scraped over rough tile, and every sound echoed too far. Like the hallway was longer than it was. Like the drift was listening.
He opened his mouth to ask if anyone else felt it.
Didn't get the chance.
The ground clicked.
It wasn't loud. Not even sharp.
Just one quiet mechanical click.
Then the hallway changed.
Lucen's foot hit something soft and metal slammed shut behind him.
Hard.
The hallway split in half.
A wall dropped from the ceiling like a guillotine. Fast. Dust exploded outward. Fog rushed through the seams.
Lucen stumbled back and hit the new wall with his shoulder. Concrete. Cold.
His system blinked.
[Trigger Event – Manual Mechanism]
Party Separation Confirmed
Signal Link: Distorted
Caution: Drift Partition Active
He blinked. "What?"
Voices echoed through the wall.
Maika shouted, "Lucen?"
He stepped closer. "I'm here."
"Are you—"
"Yeah," he said. "Not dead."
Kell's voice came next. "You trip something?"
Lucen rolled his eyes. "If I did, it was with my face."
Rin's tone was flat. "Stay there. We'll circle."
Lucen looked around.
The hallway he'd landed in was narrow. No lights. Just fog and rusted tile and a metal panel that definitely wasn't part of the main layout.
He exhaled through his nose.
'Okay. So the drift has manual traps. Not uncommon. But this one was hidden. And not on the map. That's worse.'
The fog was thicker here. Denser. Not rising, just pressing.