The low light of the Dungeon pulsed like a heartbeat around Liliruca. She stood at the edge of the 9th floor's corridor, clutching the lasgun in one trembling hand, the monomolecular blade strapped at her side. Her frame was small, barely filling out the red robes Luthar had tailored for her—but her eyes were wide and alert.
"Remember," his voice crackled through the vox-bead in her ear—calm, ever-watchful. "Just like on the third floor—aim properly and eliminate. Doesn't matter if it's a goblin, oversized lizard, or mooing Minotaur."
She nodded silently and stepped forward. Her hands were steadier now. The practice on the upper floors had helped.
The first threat came silently—two Purple Moths, drifting down from above. Their wings sparkled with poison dust.
She fired. Each beam struck clean. The first moth burned midair, wings curling before its body turned to ash. The second dropped just as fast. Two magic stones hit the floor with soft clinks.
The scent of moss deepened. The stone walls closed in tighter as she moved, boots crunching over dust and old, scattered fragments.
"Group of monsters coming from the left tunnel. Ten meters. Position defensively," Luthar said. Calm. Cold.
A swarm of killer ants. At least a dozen. Thick armor. Sharp limbs. Red eyes glowing under the dungeon's pale light. Their legs scraped the stone in unison as they charged.
She raised the lasgun and fired.
Some beams hit, others missed. One after another, ants burst into sparks and ash. A few magic stones rolled away. But more kept coming.
Her heart hammered in her chest.
She backed up, trying to steady her aim. Another ant lunged close—she shot again. The beam tore through it. Gone.
But the rest were already closing in.
She screamed. Dropped low. Fired in panic.
The beam struck midair. The ant collapsed, twitched, and turned to ash at her feet.
"Take it easy. I'm still here," Luthar's voice said in her ear.
She blinked away tears, jaw clenched. Raised the weapon. Fired again.
Another hit. Another ant vanished.
Something in her snapped. She kept shooting until the last ant was gone. Dust settled. Magic stones clattered across the floor.
She stood alone in the tunnel, chest heaving, surrounded by nothing but ash and crystal.
"It's over," she whispered.
Luthar said nothing. But she could feel it—his attention. Watching.
She glanced down at the weapon in her hands. It didn't hum with magic. Didn't feel alive like the swords she'd once used. Just cold metal and light.
Her steps grew lighter. For a moment, she imagined using it against her old Familia.
That fantasy shattered as a Silverback stepped into view.
Tall. Hulking. Fur matted and dark. It sniffed the air, breath steaming in the dim light. Then its eyes locked onto her.
It roared and charged.
Stone exploded where she had been standing a second ago. She rolled, scrambled, raised the lasgun, and fired twice.
Scorch marks. Nothing more.
Her breath caught. She tried to back away—slipped. The gun clattered out of reach.
The Silverback turned toward her. Snarled.
A crimson beam shot past her.
The Silverback stopped mid-step. Twitched.
Another shot—straight through the chest.
It collapsed, dissolving into ash and crystal.
Liliruca lay curled on the floor, gasping for breath.
The servo-skull hovered above her, lens blinking softly.
Luthar's voice returned, distant but cold.
"I suppose that's enough training for this basic weapon."
She bit her lip, blinking hard as she watched the servo-skull drift over to gather the crystals.
Liliruca picked it up with trembling fingers, trying not to look at the scorched stone where the Silverback had fallen. Her legs were still shaky. Her breath came in ragged pulls.
"Let's go back," Luthar said through the vox. "I believe we'll have a good conversation—about increasing your strength."
The servo-skull turned silently and began drifting down a side corridor, its crimson lens casting pale reflections along the tunnel walls.
Her footsteps were quiet. Slower than before. Her mind kept drifting back to the Killer Ants, to the beam slicing through the Silverback's chest like it was paper.
The silence pressed against her ears, broken only by the soft hum of the servo-skull and the distant grind of monsters.
She didn't speak. Luthar didn't offer anything more.
The long walk back up through the floors blurred together—fewer monsters. When the light of the morning sun spilled across her face, she didn't feel triumph.
By the time the crimson-touched spires of the church came into view, her legs were aching and her robes were stained with sweat. She trudged up the steps without a word.
He said nothing. He simply turned and walked into the church. She followed him inside.
Luthar stood within the main hall. The servo-skull drifted silently above, casting soft shadows. Incense drifted faintly in the air, tinged with oil and ozone.
He activated a terminal, the projection flickering to life. Without a word, he began showing her the possible enhancements.
The first images were of suits—towering power armor. Then came war vehicles with mounted cannons and mechanical limbs. At last, the projection shifted to a towering figure: a Titan. Massive. Glorious. It crushed through legions of monsters like ants. Then—an entire city, wiped away beneath its feet, plasma fire pouring from its weapons.
Liliruca stared, eyes wide. Her breath caught in her throat.
"That's… real?" she whispered. "Could I… could I really have something like that someday?"
Luthar's mask turned toward her, unreadable.
"To create a Titan," he said evenly, "I would have to transform this entire world into a forge-world. Every forest replaced by furnace stacks. Oceans turned to coolant reservoirs. Cities consumed by assembly lines."
He paused, letting the weight of it settle in her mind.
"Living in such a place," he continued, "is not pleasant."
Liliruca didn't reply right away. She looked back at the Titan in the projection—then down at her trembling hands.
"....I think I'd be okay with something smaller. Just enough to kill the God of Soma Familia."
For the first time, there was a flicker of amusement in Luthar's voice.
"Rather than killing him," he said, "perhaps we should keep him alive. He might make a fine power source for the Titan."