Just Extra

Naviga and Minerva walked into the cave slowly, each step echoing against the stone walls. The cave was pitch black, darker than any place they had been before. Behind them, water from the waterfall had found its way inside. It poured in small streams along the ground, slipping through cracks, but the flow stopped after a short distance. The rune barrier they had destroyed had been blocking the water before. Now, only a thin layer of mud spread across the ground.

Their boots sank slightly with each step, leaving wet prints behind. Their clothes clung to their skin, soaked from the waterfall they had passed through. The cold was biting, pressing against their bones.

Minerva did not summon fire this time. Instead, both of them drew upon their universal essence to sharpen their senses. Since breaking through the first essence core, their bodies had changed. Their eyes glowed faintly, touched with a pale blue light. Their vision pierced the dark, revealing the rocky tunnel ahead. Their hearing was sharper too. Every drop of water echoed clearly. Even the faint smell of damp stone was stronger now.

Still, Naviga did not let her guard down. Her instincts as an assassin never allowed her to. She spoke softly to her chip, giving it quiet commands to scan for danger. The Rainbow Reptile had taught her a hard lesson. There were creatures this chip could not detect. That fight had made her realize something important. The chip was not perfect. It was tied to her own growth. Its power expanded when she grew stronger, and its limits were her limits too.

Even so, it was far beyond what her eyes, ears, and thoughts alone could manage. The calculations, the constant scanning—it gave her an advantage she could not ignore.

The cave stretched on. They walked for what felt like a long time. The walls were plain, dark rock, glistening with faint moisture. There were no carvings, no signs of life, not even ice clinging to the surface. For once, the silence felt heavier than the outside world.

The tunnel seemed endless. Their footsteps created a steady rhythm that echoed through the empty space. Water dripped somewhere in the distance. The sound bounced off the walls, creating small echoes that faded into nothing.

Naviga glanced at Minerva. Her young lady's expression was calm but serious. The glow in her eyes gave her a faintly otherworldly look. Their soaked clothes had made the cold almost unbearable when they first entered, but Naviga had stopped them briefly. She used controlled fire to burn the water away, drying both of their bodies. After that, the chill was still present, but tolerable.

"Better," Minerva had said then, her voice even.

Now, half an hour had passed. Their boots pressed through damp stone, their footsteps steady and slow. The air was cool, but not freezing like the outside snowfields. It was strange. This deep inside the mountain, the temperature should have been worse. Instead, it was bearable, almost comfortable. Naviga kept this detail in mind.

The walls looked the same everywhere they went. Dark stone, smooth in some places, rough in others. Small cracks ran along the surface where water had seeped through over the years. The ceiling was low enough that they could see it clearly with their enhanced vision, but high enough that they never had to duck.

Their breathing came out in small puffs of mist, but not the thick clouds they had seen outside. The air felt still, as if it had been trapped here for a very long time.

After thirty minutes of walking, the monotony finally broke. The smooth tunnel opened up into a wider chamber. At the far side, a staircase descended into the depths.

Both of them stopped.

The stairs were cut from stone, neat and precise. Dust covered each step, thick enough to show no one had passed this way for a long time. The air around it was still, heavy, as if the place had been sealed for centuries.

Minerva stepped closer, her eyes narrowing. "A staircase… leading down."

Naviga followed slowly, her gaze sweeping the chamber. "It hasn't been used in years. Maybe longer."

The dust stirred slightly at their movements, rising in faint clouds. No footprints marked the surface. It was untouched.

They both stood in silence, staring at the stairway that vanished into darkness.

The chamber was larger than the tunnel they had come from. The walls curved outward, creating more space. Their enhanced vision could make out the edges, but the staircase itself disappeared into black depths that even their improved sight could not penetrate.

Naviga's chip ran quiet scans, checking for traps or hidden dangers. Nothing came back. The stairs looked safe, but that did not mean what waited below would be.

"Why don't we go inside?" Miss Naviga asked.

"Yes, we came all this way, so how could we miss going inside? We have to see where it leads." Minerva replied.

They carefully descended the staircase, their boots scraping lightly against the dusty stone steps. The deeper they went, the darker the cave became, even with the faint glow of their eyes.

Each step sent up small clouds of dust. The particles danced in the pale light from their essence-enhanced vision before settling back down. The stairs curved gently as they descended, following the natural shape of the mountain.

Naviga counted the steps out of habit. Fifty. One hundred. One hundred fifty. The descent seemed to go on forever, spiraling down into the heart of the mountain.

After nearly twenty minutes of careful walking, they came to a wider chamber. The space felt unnatural, as if someone had arranged it long ago. In the center of the room stood a research table, worn and dusty. A strange machine sat beside it, its purpose unclear, clearly designed for study or experiments.

Along the dark walls, twenty black wooden boxes were neatly attached. They were arranged in a grid—five lines, four rows. Each box looked old and well-made, the edges worn slightly with age.

Nearby, a single stool sat pushed under a small wooden table. On the table were glass flasks, brittle parchment, and small tools covered in cobwebs. Spider webs stretched across corners of the room, connecting the table, machine, and walls.

The chamber was quiet, the only movement the occasional drip of water from the ceiling. Minerva and Naviga stepped inside carefully, their senses alert. This place had clearly been abandoned for a long time, yet the presence of the machine and boxes suggested someone had once conducted serious research here.

They moved slowly, examining the walls and floor. Nothing happened, there no traps or hidden mechanisms revealed themselves. The black wooden boxes were sealed tight, their surfaces smooth and unbroken. The research machine sat idle, wires and tubes connecting it to small vials and containers, coated in dust and spider webs.

The room felt different from the tunnels above. Where those had been natural cave passages, this chamber had been shaped by human hands. The walls were straighter, the ceiling more even. Someone had spent time here, working on something important.

Naviga whispered to her chip to scan the boxes and machine for any dangerous traps or hidden energy. The chip scanned quietly, running calculations, but returned no immediate threats. The room seemed safe and sound.

Minerva's eyes scanned the setup, her expression thoughtful. "Looks like someone used this place to study… something. Maybe magic, maybe creatures."

Naviga nodded, her gaze moving along the walls. "And those boxes… someone stored things carefully. Whatever's in them could still be useful."

They stepped closer to the table, brushing away some of the spider webs. Dust fell in small clouds, but the research machine remained silent.

The chamber felt like a hidden corner of the cave, a quiet spot untouched by the monsters or explorers outside. It spoke of dedication, of someone who had spent considerable time and effort creating this place of study.

The machine was complex, with many parts connected by copper tubes and glass vessels. Some of the glass was cracked, but most remained whole. The metal parts had aged but were still solid. Whatever this device had been built to do, it had been made to last.

The parchment on the smaller table was too faded to read clearly. The ink had turned brown with age, and the paper was brittle. Some pages had crumbled at the edges. The small tools were precision instruments, clearly made for delicate work.

Naviga cautiously opened the first black wooden box. Dust rose in small clouds, and spider webs clung to her fingers. Inside, there was nothing but dust and cobwebs.

She moved to the next box, opening it slowly. Again, only dust and decay met her eyes. One by one, she checked the boxes, each revealing the same—long-abandoned and empty.

The third box was the same. Then the fourth. Then the fifth. Each one had been carefully sealed, but time had claimed whatever had been stored inside. Some boxes showed faint outlines in the dust where objects had once rested, but the contents had crumbled away.

The sixth box was empty. The seventh as well. The eighth showed signs that something small and round had once been kept there, but nothing remained.

Naviga continued methodically. The ninth box held nothing. The tenth was the same.

Then, as she leaned closer to the eleventh box, something unusual caught her eye. Among the layers of dust, a faint glimmer reflected the dim light. It immediately drew her attention. It looked like a small star, but it is not stars.

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