The air in the dungeon was thick, heavy with the scent of damp stone and something faintly metallic. Every hoofstep echoed unnervingly, the sound bouncing off the narrow walls and disappearing into the darkness. Viv took the lead, her steps confident but deliberate as her sharp eyes scanned ahead for traps. Dorian and Barnes followed close behind, the excitement in their hushed voices contrasting with the oppressive atmosphere. Seraph trailed silently, her ears flicking at every distant creak or groan the dungeon emitted.

“This is unreal,” Barnes whispered, their voice carrying a mix of awe and reverence. They paused to inspect a fragment of polished stone embedded in the wall, its surface faintly shimmering. “Dorian, look! This isn’t just stone—it’s crystal. And cut, too. Maybe part of a ceremonial artifact?”

Dorian’s blue eyes lit up as he leaned closer. “You’re right. Look at the edges—it’s been worked. This was shaped intentionally, no question. This dungeon is even older than I thought.”

Viv glanced over her shoulder, a bemused smirk on her face. “You two nerds gonna keep drooling over shiny rocks, or are we actually looking for something useful?”

“Hey, knowledge is useful,” Dorian shot back, carefully prying the crystal fragment loose with his teeth and depositing it into his saddlebag. “Besides, you’ll thank us when this ‘shiny rock’ leads to an important discovery.”

“Sure I will,” Viv muttered with a chuckle, turning her attention back to the path ahead.

They emerged into a wide chamber, its vaulted ceiling barely visible in the dim light. Against the walls stood statues—humanoid and eerily lifelike despite their worn features. Barnes froze in place, their breath hitching.

“Look at these,” they said, stepping forward with wide eyes. “These carvings… They’re incredible. The craftsmanship is so precise, even after all this time.”

Dorian was already inspecting another statue, his tail flicking excitedly. “This one’s holding something—a staff, maybe? Or part of a weapon?”

Seraph and Viv exchanged a glance, a knowing smile passing between them.

“Guess we’ve lost them,” Viv muttered.

“Let them have their moment,” Seraph said, her voice soft with amusement. “This isn’t exactly an everyday find.”

After an hour of excited chatter and careful documentation, Dorian and Barnes reluctantly agreed to leave the chamber.

“We need to get these notes back to the library,” Dorian said, his voice tinged with urgency. “This could change everything we know about pre-dungeon civilizations.”

Barnes nodded eagerly. “You two keep searching. We’ll make a quick trip to drop these off and come right back.”

“Fine,” Viv said, waving them off. “But don’t get distracted. We’ve got a lot of ground to cover.”

—-

While Viv and Seraph explored the winding corridors deeper in the dungeon, uncovering faded murals and rusted relics, Dorian and Barnes galloped back to the surface. When the group reunited hours later, Barnes practically leaped with excitement, holding up a weathered, leather-bound book.

“Check this out,” they said, their voice trembling.

“What is it?” Viv asked, stepping closer.

“A journal,” Dorian explained, his tone somber. “It details this dungeon and its history. But more importantly…” He hesitated, his expression darkening. “It mentions the skull.”

The group fell silent, their collective unease palpable.

“What does it say?” Seraph asked, her voice steady but tense.

Barnes flipped open the journal, carefully turning its fragile pages. “The writer believed the skull wasn’t just a singular entity. It’s… a prison. A vessel for the souls of the damned—those who were lost in the dungeon and couldn’t escape.”

“That’s just great,” Viv muttered, her ears flattening.

“There’s more,” Barnes continued, their voice faltering. “It’s not bound to one location. The writer says it moves, hunting something. Or someone.”

A low rumble beneath their hooves interrupted them, the sound resonating like a distant growl.

“Tell me that’s not what I think it is,” Viv said, her voice barely above a whisper.

The rumbling grew louder, accompanied by a faint tremor.

“Run,” Seraph said sharply, her tone brooking no argument.

They bolted down the nearest corridor, their hooves pounding against the uneven floor. The echoes of their steps mingled with the growing vibrations, creating an overwhelming cacophony.

Finally, they skidded to a stop in a narrow passage, their sides heaving with exertion.

“Was it the skull?” Viv asked, her voice strained.

“I don’t know,” Barnes admitted, glancing nervously back the way they’d come. “But I’m not sticking around to find out.”

Dorian nodded, his expression grim. “We need to finish here quickly and get out. Whatever that was, it’s not worth the risk.”

They pressed on, the air growing heavier with each step. The faint tremors never fully subsided, a constant reminder of the danger that loomed.

As they neared the dungeon’s exit, relief began to settle over the group—until a sudden, violent rumble shook the ground beneath them.

“Not again,” Viv growled, her voice tight with frustration.

The floor cracked, jagged fissures radiating outward. From the widening chasm, a blinding red light spilled forth, illuminating the cavern with an eerie glow. The heat was immediate, oppressive, as lava began to bubble up from the depths.

And then it appeared.

The skull, now wreathed in flames and molten rock, floated ominously from the chasm. Its empty eye sockets glowed with a hellish red light, and its jaw snapped open and closed with a deafening clatter.

“Move!” Seraph shouted, shoving Dorian aside as the skull surged forward.