The bridge shifted beneath Varin's hooves, and for a moment, she froze. Her breath caught as the surface rippled, undulating beneath her, the sensation of countless slithering legs writhing just beneath the stone. Her muscles tightened instinctively, hooves scrambling for purchase. Then came the sound—a low, wet scuttling—followed by the unmistakable clicking of thousands of legs against the stone. Her heart pounded against her ribs, the cold realization creeping through her.

The bridge wasn’t a bridge at all.

“Oh, stars above,” she breathed, eyes widening as she looked down to see the vast, segmented body of a millipede undulating beneath her. Its slick, armored form glistened in the dim light, alive and restless. The heat of its massive body pulsed below, each shift sending ripples of movement through the air, and Varin could feel its sheer power coiling beneath her hooves.

A sharp trill snapped her focus upward. Nidhogg, her pygmy drake, hovered a few feet above, wings flapping steadily in midair. His tourmaline-green scales gleamed against the tunnel's darkness, his ruby-red eyes darting between Varin and the writhing creature below. Though cautious, he didn’t retreat. His wings twitched, half-poised to flee, but he stayed just close enough, observing with a mix of wariness and faint confidence. He knew she could handle herself.

Varin managed a grin despite the situation. “Don’t worry, darling,” she murmured, her tone reassuring yet playful. “I’ve got this.”

Breathe, Varin. Breathe. Valke’s voice whispered in the back of her mind, steady and soothing. You're in control. Always in control.

The words settled her, turning her panic into something else entirely. Her tense muscles loosened, her body relaxed. A wicked grin spread across her face as the millipede bucked beneath her, clearly agitated by her weight. Varin snapped her legs down, hooves gripping the slick, segmented plates with practiced ease.

This wasn’t fear anymore.

This was intoxication.

Her pulse quickened—not from terror, but euphoria—as the millipede surged forward, trying to shake her off. Varin moved with it, muscles fluid, leaning into the creature’s writhing motions. This—this—was why she returned to the dungeon time and again. The wild, reckless excitement that made her heart race, that made her feel truly alive.

“Ride it?” she muttered, a smile playing at her lips. “Of course, I can.”

With a rush of movement, the millipede bolted, its countless legs propelling it across the chasm. Varin’s mane whipped back in the wind, the musty, damp air thick around her. The stifling tunnel should have felt claustrophobic, but to Varin, it felt like freedom. Every shift of the millipede’s body sent jolts of energy coursing through her, the rush of adrenaline sparking in her veins.

Nidhogg hovered above her, wings beating steadily, his ruby-red eyes never leaving her. He clicked his tongue—a signal of unease—but didn’t falter. Despite the nerves that clearly rattled him, the drake kept pace, following her every movement as the millipede thundered beneath them.

"See, Nidhogg?" Varin called out, her voice riding the thrill of the moment. "We’re just gettin' started!"

Nidhogg let out a low chirp, half a warning, half a reluctant agreement. His wings beat more confidently now, the initial skittishness fading as he sensed the controlled chaos below. Inch by inch, he edged closer, his wary instincts clashing with his growing trust in Varin’s wild, unrelenting nature.

Memories flickered through Varin’s mind—brief flashes of her first dungeon adventure as a filly. The first time she had felt this alive. Her parents had led her through the dungeon, their confident strides lighting up the dark tunnels. She remembered looking up at them, awestruck, knowing one day she would be like them. Bold. Fearless. Unforgettable.

But they never came back.

Her grin faltered, if only for a heartbeat. That familiar ache tugged at her chest, the hollow weight of memories that still gnawed at her. She and Valke had waited for so long. Days had blurred into weeks, hope fraying into an ache neither of them could ignore. She could still see the quiet determination in Valke’s eyes the day they decided to search for their parents. The question neither of them dared to voice: What if we’re too late?

They were.

The millipede jerked beneath her, and Varin shook herself free of the memory. This wasn’t the time to dwell. The past was the past, and she had long since refused to let it define her. The dungeon had taken her parents, but it wouldn’t take her. Never.

Nidhogg let out another trill, sharper this time, his wings fluttering as he hovered just above her shoulder. She spared him a glance, the grin returning to her lips. "Stay close, darling."

The creature beneath her continued its frenzied dash across the chasm, legs clicking in rapid, rhythmic beats. Varin pressed herself lower against its segmented back, hooves gripping tightly as she rode the shifting momentum. Her heart pounded in her chest, but it wasn’t fear coursing through her. It was ecstacy.

“Come on, darling,” she coaxed the millipede, her voice smooth and teasing. “Just a little farther. Show me what ya got.”

The millipede hissed, its massive body never slowing as it propelled them toward the opposite ledge. Nidhogg fluttered closer now, his small claws brushing lightly against Varin’s mane as if testing the distance. He didn’t back away, his nervous energy tempered by the confidence that radiated from her. Though his instincts told him to keep a safe distance, he trusted her to know when to act.

Varin laughed, the sound bubbling up from her chest, echoing through the cavern as the millipede carried them both toward solid ground. The thrill of the chase, the danger, the rush—it reminded her why she kept coming back. Because down here, in the dungeon, she wasn’t just a Courser. She wasn’t just another adventurer playing her part.

She was alive.

And every challenge—every near miss—only proved how unstoppable she was.

The millipede slowed as they neared the far ledge, its countless legs clattering to a halt. Varin leapt from its back with practiced grace, landing on solid ground, her heart still racing. She turned, watching as the massive creature scuttled back into the shadows, vanishing into the dark.

A slow, satisfied smile crept across her lips. She tossed her mane and straightened, the familiar air of confidence settling over her like a well-worn cloak.

“Well,” she said to no one in particular, her voice light and playful. “That was fun.”

Nidhogg landed delicately on her shoulder, his claws gripping her mane with practiced ease. Though he was still visibly shaken, the skittishness had faded. He stayed perched there, his posture more confident now, trusting her in the aftermath of chaos. Varin tilted her head toward him, her tone softening. "See, my little drake? No need to worry."

Nidhogg chirped softly in reply, his gaze drifting back toward the now-empty tunnel, as if making sure the millipede was truly gone. Varin chuckled, nudging him affectionately with her muzzle.

With Nidhogg perched by her side, she strode forward, her hooves echoing lightly against the stone as the adrenaline still buzzed beneath her skin. Together, they moved deeper into the dungeon—ready for whatever came next.