His skin itched.
Like something was brushing against it and pulling back before he could react.
He stepped forward carefully, one hand near his belt, and the other brushing the wall for balance.
His system pinged again.
[New Zone Identified – Unknown Subloop]
Drift Mapping Disabled
Environmental Behavior Unstable
Suggestion: Proceed with Caution
He muttered, "Yeah. Got that part."
The hallway angled left.
There was no light source, but the air glowed faintly blue near the floor. Like someone had poured bioluminescence into the cracks and hoped it wouldn't be noticed.
Lucen kept moving.
His heart was thumping a little too fast. Not panic. Not yet. Just enough to make his hand sweat against his jacket lining.
'I'm alone. No exit marker. Fog's acting like it knows I'm off the map.'
He pulled up the spell window.
All three spells primed. Mana still full.
No new slots.
No fourth spell.
No way to add one unless he leveled up, and the next mob might not give enough experience unless it brought friends.
He moved slower now.
The wall to his right started to change. Stone gave way to smooth metal. Not rusted. Polished. Embedded with tiny glyphs he didn't recognize.
One was pulsing.
Just barely.
Lucen crouched.
Looked closer.
It wasn't system-made.
It had the same roughness as the unfinished one in the cache room. Same crooked alignment. Same sense of almost.
But this one was functional.
It had power.
'No way this is a coincidence. Whoever made these didn't just mess around. They left them. Like seeds.'
The fog curled near the glyph.
Hovered.
And Lucen realized something that made the back of his neck go cold.
The glyph was reacting to him.
Not to his presence.
To his system.
A second later, the light around it flickered.
And something opened.
Not a door.
Just a slot in the wall.
Wide enough for a scroll.
Empty.
Waiting.
Lucen stared at it.
And whispered, "I hate puzzles."
Lucen stared at the slot.
Still empty.
Still open.
The glyph above it pulsed again. Slow. Steady. Like it was breathing.
The fog hadn't moved. It curled near the base of the wall but didn't push closer. It was just there. Watching. Or listening. Or waiting to laugh if he messed this up.
Lucen crouched slowly and leaned a little closer.
The slot wasn't mechanical. No ridges. No metal lip. Just clean blackness edged with light. The kind of light that didn't glow, it just existed. Like a placeholder for something that hadn't been written yet.
He whispered, "I swear, if this drift is running a personality quiz, I'm gonna kick it."
Nothing answered.
Which somehow made it worse.
His system didn't give him a quest. No tooltip. No hint.
Just the faint hum in his hand, like his mana was getting curious without permission.
'So. Glowing glyph. Empty slot. Unknown function. Definitely a trap. Also possibly a reward. Or a scanner. Or a dungeon's idea of a vending machine.'
He looked down at his pockets.
Nothing really worth offering.
No scrolls. No sigils. No key-shaped items.
Just chalk, his backup marker, and the folded spell sketch from earlier.
Lucen hesitated.
Then pulled the sketch out and looked at it again.
The one he'd drawn last night. A half-finished idea for a directional push glyph that never stabilized in the loop.
It wasn't much.
But it was personal.
He frowned at the slot.
'You want something weird? Fine.'
He tore off the corner of the sketch. Just the small triangle with the base lines. Enough to look like a glyph. But useless without context.
He slid it into the slot.
Nothing happened.
For a full second, the room stayed dead silent.
Then the glyph above the slot blinked once.
The piece of paper dissolved.
Not burned.
Not shredded.
It just disintegrated into tiny specks of light and vanished.
Lucen's breath caught.
His system pinged.
[Unstructured Input Accepted]
Processing…
Drift Glyph Resonance: Matched Pattern Detected
Result: Observation Stored
He stared at the screen.
'Observation stored? That's it? You're not gonna explode or hand me a new spell or even say thanks?'
He stood slowly, eyes still on the glyph.
It didn't change.
No new slot. No door. No monster crawling out to applaud.
The fog stayed put.
Lucen exhaled.
Then took one step back.
The moment his boot lifted off the tile, something in the wall clicked.
His whole body tensed.
Nothing dropped.
Nothing opened.
But a line of faint light appeared on the floor behind him.
Just one.
A straight line, six inches wide, running down the middle of the hallway toward the far end.
Lucen looked at it.
Then looked back at the glyph.
Then at the system.
[Tracking Marker Deployed]
Path Suggestion Activated
Risk Rating: Unknown
He muttered, "You know what would really help right now? A 'Do Not Follow' sign. Or maybe a glowing skull. Just anything more obvious."
The line pulsed again.
Soft. Gentle.
Welcoming.
He didn't trust it.
Not for a second.
But he also didn't have any other paths.
The hallway had no side doors. No vents. No ceiling breaks.
Just one way forward.
Lucen tightened his grip on his jacket strap and started walking.
Slow. Measured.
The fog moved with him.
Still gentle.
Still quiet.
But never far behind.
The glowing path continued forward.
Lucen followed it with the kind of cautious walk you usually reserve for crossing a rickety bridge or lying to your landlord.
Every step felt a little too loud, like the floor was amplifying the sound on purpose. The fog stayed even with him, never pushing ahead, never falling behind. Just hovering. Waiting.
He didn't like how quiet it was.
He didn't like how the system wasn't saying anything either.
The glowing line on the floor pulsed again. It wasn't exactly light, it was more like awareness. As if the floor wanted to remind him that it was still there, still watching.
Lucen scratched his temple.
'Alright. Following weird line in cursed hallway. No idea where it goes. System's doing its usual silent treatment. I'm definitely making great life choices.'
Then he heard it.
Muffled.
Sharp.
Farther ahead, bouncing off the walls and twisting through the fog.
A scream.
High-pitched. Fast.