The adventurers inside had already tested this rule. Many times. A glowing crystal screen floated above them, tallying the failures in cold, impartial script:
Attempts: 42.
The tall figure in the central cage drew a steadying breath, posture disciplined despite the sweat. “Leo Vince,” they said, voice calm as if at a tribunal. “Warrior. Strategist. My strength is knowledge.”
To the left, a woman swung nimbly on the bars, movements precise but dangerously flashy for her precarious position. She gave a crooked smile. “Harlada Houdini. Mage. Fast hands, quick feet. I’m still working on the whole spellcasting part.”
The third cage creaked as its bars bent outward under raw, careless pressure. A broad-shouldered man flexed, grinning proudly. “Bouldering Bert. Rogue. Silent as a shadow, soft as a—” He leaned, a bar snapped free, and it plummeted into the lava with a hiss. “…door being kicked down.”
The crystal screen pulsed once more.
Attempts: 43.
***
The lava surged, cages tilted, and then—
splash.
Agony. Fire. The brief impression of bones melting like wax.
Then blackness.
A moment later, all three woke back in their cages, chains rattling in perfect sync as if nothing had happened. Their clothes were whole again, their skin unburned… though the smell of char lingered like a bad joke.
Above them, the crystal screen updated with cheerful indifference:
Attempts: 44.
“See?” Leo Vince muttered, brushing ash from their notes that had somehow respawned with them. “Predictable system. Cause, effect, reset. If we calculate the optimal sequence of—”
“AAAAAAAAA!” Harlada Houdini cartwheeled in panic as the cage swung dangerously. “Nope, nope, nope—” splash.
Blackness.
Attempts: 45.
Bouldering Bert flexed against the bars. “Don’t worry, I’ve got this. One mighty heave and—” The entire cage lurched sideways like a snapped bridge plank. All three went screaming into the lava.
Attempts: 46.
They reappeared again, coughing smoke.
Leo pinched the bridge of their nose. “If we can just remain perfectly still—”
Bert sneezed.
Attempts: 47.
The crystal screen pulsed with a little more energy this time, almost smug.
***
Leo assessed the situation: "If we can swing the cages perhaps we will fall on the stone instead."
The crystal screen pulsed again.
Attempts: 48.
"If we all jump before we hit the lava?" Bert pondered.
"That's a terr..." Harlada tried when the cages went down again.
They reset. Singed hair, charred dignity.
Attempts: 49.
"Swim and bite through the pain." Bert told the others.
Another reset. This time, Harlada was still smoking.
Then, with almost triumphant fanfare, glowing letters scrolled across the crystal:
Attempts: 50. Congratulations! You have unlocked: Cookie.
A tiny paper bag poofed into existence at the bottom of Leo’s cage. Inside was, indeed, a single chocolate chip cookie. Still warm.
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They stared at it in silence.
“…That’s it?” Harlada said.
Leo cleared their throat. “There may be hidden buffs. We should test for stat increases, regeneration bonuses, mana recovery—”
Bert snatched the bag, ripped it open, and devoured the cookie in one bite.
Nothing happened.
Then the cages dropped again.
The crystal flashed once more:
Achievement unlocked: Easily Distracted.
The lava burbled approvingly.
The crystal screen pulsed.
Attempts: 51.
Smoke still clung to their clothes. Leo Vince adjusted their notes with the dignity of someone trying very hard not to scream. “We must think logically. The inscription is a riddle. One word—universal, binding, essential.”
Bouldering Bert flexed against the bars. “Easy. The word is Stab.”
“Stab is not a universal principle!” Leo snapped.
“Stab is the principle!” Bert stabbed the air for emphasis, nearly tipping his cage.
The whole structure swayed alarmingly.
Harlada threw up her hands. “Oh, stabbing? Please be serious—”
With a deep clang, the chains began to lower. Cages descended smoothly to the cavern floor. Bars unlocked with a cheerful click. The lava receded to a harmless glow.
They froze, wide-eyed.
The crystal screen chimed politely:
Attempts: 52. Puzzle Cleared. Reward: Passage. Rank: Pitiful.
Harlada blinked. “…Wait. That was it?”
Leo frowned. “Unacceptable. That can’t be the solution.”
Bert grinned. “Told you it was stab.”
***
The pedestals hummed with light, each displaying equipment that radiated quiet promise. The text above them shimmered:
Reward Chamber. One item per adventurer. Choose wisely.
Leo Vince studied the rows of swords and shields. His hand hovered over a gleaming longsword, but instead he reached for a thin leather-bound book tucked almost out of sight. “Knowledge is sharper than steel,” he murmured. The screen flickered:
Warrior Leo Vince has equipped: Field Notes on Supply Lines.
Harlada Houdini drifted past rows of elegant staves, her fingers brushing over carved crystal heads. Then her eyes caught on a pair of supple gloves inlaid with tiny silver threads. She slipped them on, flexing her fingers with delight. “Fast hands are all a mage really needs.” The screen pulsed:
Mage Harlada Houdini has equipped: Gloves of Quickness.
Bouldering Bert squatted in front of the daggers, picked one up, frowned, and set it back. “Too small.” He moved down the line, passing the bows, the rapiers, the throwing knives—until he found a broad-bladed shortsword meant for hacking brush. He hefted it with satisfaction. “This’ll do.”
Rogue Bouldering Bert has equipped: Cleaver’s Edge.
The chamber dimmed. The pedestals sank. The exit door opened with a grinding of stone.
For a moment, they stood proud, as if they had chosen wisely. Then Harlada tried to gather mana, only to fumble the focus without a staff. Bert tested his blade against a stone wall—it rang like a kitchen knife. Leo began scribbling supply calculations on the margins of his book, muttering happily.
The dungeon gave a low, almost inaudible groan.
***
Three doors waited, their symbols glowing faintly in the dungeon’s breath.
- The curling wave on the first door carried faint barks and splashes.
- The cracked skull on the second leaked whispers of moans and shuffling.
- The lily pad on the third pulsed green, and somewhere beyond it came the slow, rhythmic croak… croak… croak.
The crystal screen glimmered:
Choose wisely. The Dimension of Seals. The Dimension of Zombies. The Dimension of Frogs. Only one path advances.
They stood in silence, each weighing the options.
Leo spoke first. “Seals are aquatic. Advantageous only in water terrain. Irrelevant.”
“Zombies,” Harlada said, shaking her head. “Predictable, but swarming. A slow death.”
They turned together toward the lily pad.
“Frogs,” Leo concluded. “Amphibious. Poisonous. Cunning. Historically underestimated.”
Harlada nodded solemnly. “Frogs are always the most dangerous.”
Bert cracked his knuckles, grinning. “Then it’s settled.”
He pushed the frog door.
The stone gateway swung open, releasing the damp, heavy air of a swamp. Croaks echoed louder now, hundreds of throats answering in chorus. The crystal screen blinked once:
Attempts: 52. Path Chosen: Frogs. Good luck.
“Bert,” Harlada said.
“We hate you," Leo added.