Hannah POV:
The gate groaned open with a sound that reminded me of bones grinding together. Marlon stepped through first, and I followed silently, the rusted key still swinging from his fingers. We descended into another corridor—this one colder, damper, and far too still. The air shifted as we moved forward, like something ancient was holding its breath.
The lair.
Ahead, dim green light cast strange shadows over mossy stone walls. Twisting roots coiled through cracks in the floor like veins, pulsing faintly. I knew without needing to be told that we were in a place that wasn't meant for people. A place where old magic and broken promises clung to the air like smoke.
Then I saw him.
The goblin.
He stood at the threshold of a massive, iron gate—his back to us, squat body twitching slightly with each breath. His skin was unrecognizable considering he had hunched shoulders armored in what looked like regular clothes, but he wore a big golden helmet, his face missing, just red eyes. He didn't turn as we approached.
"That's the guardian," Marlon murmured beside me. "He won't attack unless you try to force your way in. Just give him the offering."
I nodded and stepped forward, reaching into my satchel. The void mayonnaise was cold in my hand, heavier than it should've been. Its oily sheen seemed to ripple as I held it out.
The dwarf's head twitched. Slowly, he turned, His beady red eyes landed on the jar, and his scowl melted into something resembling joy—something almost human.
"Void mayo," he croaked. "My favorite..."
He reached out with clawed hands to take it, turning fully to face me as he did.
And that was when I moved.
My blade was already drawn—smooth and silent. Before Marlon could speak, before the Dwarf could blink, the galaxy sword sliced through the air. A single, clean arc.
The Dwarf's head fell with a wet thump, rolling to the side before coming to a rest against the base of the gate.
His body crumpled without sound.
Marlon choked behind me.
"What the hell—Hannah!"
I turned slowly, wiping the blade on my pant leg.
"He was in the way," I said simply.
Marlon's face twisted in something like horror. "He wasn't attacking you. He was eating. You didn't have to—" He cut himself off, eyes narrowing. "You didn't even hesitate."
"No," I said, quietly. "I didn't."
A long silence stretched between us. Marlon looked down at the goblin's body, then back at me—his mouth opened like he wanted to say more, but the words never came.
He saw it.
The difference in me.
The way the Skull Cavern had hollowed me out and left something colder behind.
He said nothing else as we stepped over the body and passed through the now-unlocked gate. The walls of the lair narrowed, then opened wide into a spiraling chamber bathed in purple torchlight. Arcane symbols pulsed beneath our feet. Wisps of violet magic drifted through the air like smoke.
The witch wasn't here—but her presence was. Heavy, lingering.
I moved through the room slowly, ignoring the dried herbs dangling from the ceiling, the jars of twisted creatures floating in fluid, the tomes with spines made of bone.
I was looking for one thing.
And then—I saw it.
On a pedestal carved from obsidian and wrapped in ancient vines, the Dark Talisman pulsed with quiet power. It looked almost organic, like it had grown from the stone itself. Dark, metallic, with jagged edges and a center that seemed to beat like a heart.
I approached and picked it up, cradling it in my palm.
It was cold and alive.
"This is it," I said to Marlon, who watched me warily from the doorway.
"You're sure about this?" he asked.
I looked down at the talisman. "I was sure the moment I entered that cavern."
We left the lair without speaking. The sewer was just as dark, just as still as when we'd arrived, but it felt different now. Finished. Something had shifted.
Marlon didn't say goodbye when he handed me back to the Wizard—just gave me one last look, the kind of look someone gives a ghost they used to know.
Back in the tower, I stood in front of the Wizard with the talisman in hand.
"You found it," he said, brows raised. "And you made it back... barely."
"Seal it," I said. "Seal the passage. All of it."
The Wizard studied me for a moment, that usual humor drained from his eyes. "You really want this path closed? No way back?"
"No way back," I said. "Not for me."
He nodded solemnly, and with a flick of his wrist, the talisman vanished from my hand in a stream of dark light.
The air shifted, the magic settled.
And I knew then—whatever I was before, whatever I lost down there—I wasn't coming back
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