Thomrik landed with a heavy thud on the metallic floor, his boots clanging against the cold, unyielding surface. A low grunt escaped him as he adjusted the weight of his warhammer, its head ringing slightly as it settled at his side. He was the last to descend, the final member of their party to leave the raging blizzard behind.

The only light came from the soft, silvery glow of Raelyn's locket, illuminating the chamber in eerie halos of pale light. The chamber was strange—a perfect box of steel-like material enclosing them, devoid of doors, windows, or any visible way forward. The walls and ceiling were seamless, as though the room had been forged from a single piece of metal.

But one wall stood apart from the rest—a reflective surface, gleaming dimly beneath her locket's glow. Unlike the dull metal surrounding them, this wall shimmered faintly, like a mirror, reflecting the weary, frostbitten figures that now stood trapped in its silent embrace.

Benji and Danio paced the small space, their boots scuffing softly against the metal flooring. Benji ran a gloved hand along the walls, knocking his knuckles against them as though searching for a hidden seam. Danio, on the other hand, looked restless, his discomfort palpable as he muttered under his breath, arms crossed tightly over his chest.

In one corner, Zypher was curled beneath Raelyn's spare cloak, his small form still trembling from the cold. His antennae drooped, his thin fingers clenching at the fabric, pulling it tighter around himself as he huddled close to the warmth.

Hovan had positioned himself near Rakz, kneeling beside the small dragon's limp form. Raelyn hesitated before lowering herself next to him, her fingers hovering uncertainly above Rakz's unmoving body. He was so still. His usual warmth had been stolen away by the storm, his scales coated in a fine layer of frost. Raelyn swallowed hard at the sight of him.

"Hovan," she whispered, afraid to touch the dragon, afraid she might break him if she did. "How is he?"

Hovan's expression was unreadable as he pressed a careful hand against Rakz's side, feeling for breath, for life. A long, silent moment passed before he finally spoke. "His breathing's steadier than before," he murmured, though his voice lacked true relief. "But he's still cold." His brows furrowed. "Too cold."

Raelyn clenched her fists. "I—I can try my magic again," she said, her voice wavering. "I can summon fire to warm him."

But Hovan shook his head. "No need. He pressed his palm against the metal floor. "It's warm," he said, frowning slightly. "Feel it."

Raelyn pressed her hand down against the cold-looking surface—and sure enough, warmth pulsed beneath her palm. Not the comforting heat of a fire, but a steady, unnatural warmth, radiating faintly from the metal itself.

"The walls too," Benji cut in, running his fingers along the sleek surface. "This whole place is... heated somehow."

Danio exhaled, rubbing his arms. "I don't care where the heat's coming from," he muttered. "It's keeping us alive, and that's all that matters." He glanced around, shifting from foot to foot. "But I don't like it. This place feels like a box, and I don't do well in cages."

Thomrik let out a gruff chuckle, shaking his head as he leaned back against one of the walls. "You always got somethin' to complain about, don't you?"

Danio shot him a glare but didn't argue.

Hovan glanced down at Rakz. "The warmth should help him recover," he said. "Give it time."

Raelyn let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. She reached out, hesitant but desperate, and brushed her fingers lightly across Rakz's head. His normally vibrant scales were dull, almost lifeless beneath her touch. "Stay with me," she whispered.

She swallowed past the lump in her throat and turned to Zypher, who had barely moved since they entered. The gremlin was still curled tightly within the fabric of her cloak, his limbs tucked in to conserve what warmth he had left.

"Zypher," Raelyn said softly, moving closer. "How are you feeling?"

Zypher peeked out from the folds of fabric, his large eyes tired but more alert than before. He flexed his fingers stiffly, wincing at the lingering numbness in his joints. "B-better," he stammered, his teeth still chattering faintly. "At least I'm not in that s-storm anymore." He adjusted the cloak around him, antennae twitching slightly. "My limbs still ache, but I'll thaw out."

Raelyn turned back to Hovan, her throat tightening as guilt clawed at her chest. "I'm sorry," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "I should have listened to you. We should have stayed in the tunnels. I nearly got us all killed."

She tried to hold back the emotions that threatened to break free, but the tears she had fought off earlier returned, burning against her cold skin.

Hovan sighed and shook his head. "No," he said firmly. "You made the right call."

Raelyn blinked up at him, confused. "But—"

"The tunnels are endless," he interrupted, his tone steady. "We could have wandered for days and never found our way. And the troll? We weren't prepared for another fight like that." He met her gaze, dark eyes unwavering. "We're safe now. That's all that matters."

Raelyn wiped at her eyes, her throat tight.

"You did what you had to do," Hovan added. "And it got us here. Don't dwell on what-ifs. Just focus on what's next."

Raelyn sniffed, nodding as she forced down the lingering guilt. She couldn't change the past. But she could make sure they survived whatever came next.

Benji finally broke the silence, his voice low but thoughtful. "Where exactly is 'here'?"

Raelyn turned toward Benji, his question settling in her mind. She had been so focused on Rakz—on his shallow breathing, on the terrifying fragility of his still form—that she had nearly forgotten everything else. But now, as her eyes adjusted to the dim glow of her locket, she felt the walls around them pressing in.

Her fingers tightened around the cool metal of the locket's chain. She exhaled, reaching inward, tapping into her medial — her magical reserve. As she channeled energy into the artifact, a soft warmth spread through her palm.

The glow brightened, illuminating more of the room. The light spilled across the metallic walls, revealing their smooth, seamless structure. No doors. No tunnels. No signs of life. Just cold, impassive metal enclosing them from all sides. This place had been built to keep something in... or keep something out.

Danio exhaled sharply, rubbing his arms. "This is it? This is what we nearly died for?" He gestured around at the confined space, his frustration bubbling up. "I thought this was supposed to lead to Grythenwald, but I don't see any gremlins."

Thomrik, who had been inspecting the walls with a deep-set frown, let out a grunt. "Because it's a dead end." He ran his palm across the surface, shaking his head. 

Benji, however, wasn't convinced. He stepped away from one of the walls and flexed his fingers, shaking off the lingering warmth. His brow furrowed. "Not all the walls are the same," he said, turning toward them. "This one here—it doesn't feel like metal."

Raelyn turned toward where he was standing, holding up her locket as she approached. The light reflected off the surface of the wall in question, shimmering faintly like ripples on water. The smooth, dark surface cast her own image back at her, a perfect reflection, untouched by the faint distortions of uneven metal. Every detail was crisp—her pale face, the exhausted worry in her eyes, the way her cloak shifted slightly in the dim glow of her locket.

Hesitantly, she reached out a hand. Her reflection did the same.

Fingertips mirrored fingertips, drawing closer, until they met.

The glass-like surface pressed against her palm. It solid but not as unmoving as the metal around it.

"It's warm," she murmured, "But not as warm as the metal."

Her own reflection stared back at her, eyes wide with quiet uncertainty.

Danio stepped forward, squinting at his reflection. Then, with a dramatic huff, he ran his hands through his snow-damp hair, fixing it as best he could before flashing a grin at himself. His movements were brisk, almost jittery, as if keeping busy kept his nerves at bay.

"Maybe it's just a mirror," he suggested, tilting his head to check his teeth in the reflection. "A fancy, underground, mysterious mirror. The gremlins have style, I'll give them that."

Thomrik let out a snort, crossing his arms over his broad chest. "That's what you're worried about? Your bloody hair?"

Danio smirked, but it was thinner this time. He shifted on his feet, glancing briefly at the metal walls that surrounded them. "If I'm going to die in a metal tomb, I'd at least like to look good doing it." The joke landed, but the way his fingers twitched at his sides gave away the restlessness creeping up on him.

Benji shook his head, looking at Danio. "A mirror would be harder, thinner and colder. It's something different."

Raelyn focussed on the reflective surface. If it was glass, then they should be able to see through it.

She cupped her hands around her eyes and leaned in, peering into the darkness beyond. Her breath fogged against the surface, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't see anything.

Just emptiness.

Hovan approached, pressing his own hand against the glass. "If we can't find a way forward," he said, "we could break it. Might be the only way through."

Benji, still studying the structure, frowned. "If this really is the entrance to the gremlin kingdom, destroying their property probably won't make for the best first impression."

Raelyn turned to Zypher, who was still curled up in her cloak, recovering from the cold. At the mention of the gremlins, Zypher shifted, his antennae giving an involuntary flick. When he finally shifted, his movements were sluggish.

"What do you think?" she asked gently.

Zypher rubbed his arms, still thawing out. He stared at the reflective wall. "I... I'm not sure," he admitted. "It's been a long time since I was here. I don't remember a room like this."

Danio groaned, running a shaky hand through his damp hair before dragging it down his face. His breaths were uneven. "Great. So now we don't even know if this is Grythenwald?" His voice wavered slightly, an edge of frustration barely masking the creeping panic underneath.

Zypher's antennae twitched again as he considered the situation. "This could be a gateway into the kingdom," he mused, "or... it could just be a shelter."

"A shelter? There's nothing here." Benji said.

"A place to recover from the storm before moving on," Zypher clarified. He pulled the cloak tighter around himself. "We could be close, but without another marker, I can't be sure."

The words sent a ripple of unease through the group.

Raelyn turned back to the reflective wall, pressing her palm against it again, as if hoping it would reveal something—anything—that would lead them forward.

If this was the end of the markings...

Then how were they supposed to find the gremlins?

Danio was pacing. Back and forth, his boots scraping against the metal floor in restless, uneven strides. His movements were sharp, erratic, his hands running through his snow-dampened hair, then clenching into fists at his sides. His breaths were coming faster, his chest rising and falling in short bursts.

"This room is too small," he muttered, shaking his head as he cast a glance toward the ceiling, then at the walls, then back to the hatch above them. "Too damn small."

Raelyn frowned, shifting slightly where she stood. The warmth of the room was seeping into her aching limbs, thawing the numbness from her fingers, but the air was still heavy with exhaustion, with the weight of what they had just endured. She knew Danio didn't handle confined spaces well—he had made that abundantly clear in the tunnels—but there was something different about the way he was acting now.

Danio suddenly stopped, turning to face them. "Does anyone else feel that?" he asked, his voice strained. His gaze darted between them, wide-eyed and frantic. "Like—like it's getting harder to breathe?"

Hovan looked at him with a raised brow. "You're imagining it."

"No, I'm not." Danio ran a hand down his chest, his fingers trembling slightly. "We're in a sealed room with no air flow. We're using up all the oxygen. We need to open the hatch before—"

"We can't open the hatch yet," Raelyn interrupted, her voice calm but firm. "Rakz and Zypher need time to recover in the warmth."

Danio let out a short, breathy laugh, but there was no humor in it. "Right, right—let's just sit here and die then, yeah? Good plan." He turned toward the ladder, his hands already reaching for the rungs.

Thomrik's voice cut through the rising panic like a hammer striking an anvil. "Won't do you any good, lad."

Danio froze. "What?"

Thomrik crossed his arms, his expression grim. "The hatch sealed itself shut the second I stepped onto the ladder. I already tried opening it before I came down—it wouldn't budge."

A cold silence fell over them.

Raelyn's stomach twisted as she saw the moment Danio fully processed those words. His eyes flicked to the hatch above them, then back to Thomrik. "You're joking."

Thomrik didn't even blink.

Danio's breath hitched. His hands twitched at his sides, clenching and unclenching as his chest rose and fell in sharp, erratic motions. "No, no, no—" He shook his head, stepping back. "You—you have to be wrong. We can't—we can't be trapped in here."

Benji stood up, holding out a hand as if to steady him. "Danio—"

"No!" Danio barked, his voice breaking slightly as he stepped back again, pressing himself against the reflective wall. "We need air! We're gonna run out—we're gonna—" He cut himself off, his breath coming in sharp, panicked gasps.

Raelyn pushed herself to her feet. "Danio, listen to me," she said, her own exhaustion momentarily forgotten as she took a cautious step toward him. "We'll find a way out. But panicking isn't going to help."

Danio's hands pressed against his chest, as if trying to force himself to breathe. "You don't—you don't understand, Raelyn—"

Hovan was watching Danio closely. "He's having a panic attack." His sharp eyes flicked toward Raelyn. "We need to find a way forward—now."

Thomrik let out a deep sigh, rolling his shoulders. "If there's no door, we'll make one."

Raelyn barely had time to turn before Thomrik gripped his warhammer in both hands, stepping toward the reflective wall.

"Wait—"

Too late.

The warhammer swung in a wide arc, slamming into the glass with a heavy thud.

The wall shuddered from the impact. The sound rang in Raelyn's ears, reverberating through the metal walls. She winced, heart hammering as she expected shards to explode outward—but instead, the mirror-like surface trembled beneath the blow.

And remained unbroken.

Thomrik pulled back, squinting at the spot where his warhammer had struck. A faint, shallow scratch marred the otherwise pristine reflection, but the glass itself held firm.

Benji let out a low whistle. "That thing's sturdy."

Thomrik exhaled, rolling his shoulders. "Didn't swing hard enough." He adjusted his grip, preparing to strike again.

Raelyn opened her mouth to stop him, but before she could, a voice echoed through the chamber.

"Put the weapon down."

Raelyn inhaled sharply at the sudden voice, its crisp tone cutting through the stillness of the chamber like a blade. The sound carried an authority that made the metal walls feel even colder, more imposing. Her eyes darted around the chamber, searching for the source of the voice, but the room was as empty as before.