Jack emerged from the temple and made his way back to the others, where he helped them prepare makeshift masks. The sterling example of master craftsmanship consisted almost entirely of an extra blouse soaked in water.

“Well, they aren’t exactly OSHA compliant, but they’ll probably do. We go in the same way I did, up the steps, long hallway, set of stairs down to the ritual chamber. Step on the shrine, then we book it. I’m not sure how fresh the air is in there, but I know breathing smoke is bad for you,” he frowned.
“Thanks, mister I-don’t-need-to-breathe-eat-drink-sleep-or-poop like you human peasants,” Layla snarked at him, but she was still smiling.

He just grinned at her and finished tying off her mask. The four made their way to the steps of the temple and began climbing the steps.

“D’ya think we cheated this one?” Layla mused.
“There’s no cheating in war, Layla. Just the guy who goes home, and the guy who doesn’t,” Rory replied somberly.
“That sounds like a Darius-ism,” Erin’s eyes twinkled above her mask.
“Oh shut up,” he rolled his eyes at her.
“Alright, kids, time to go into the big scary temple. Keep your eyes open,” Jack walked into the corridor leading into the temple.
“Wow, it gets dark in here quick, eh,” Layla had her hand on the back of Erin’s armor.
“Hold up. I’ve got a thing,” Rory’s Arcane Storage appeared, shedding brilliant blue light and the sparks of cast-off mana.

He pulled a foot-long rod from within, then struck it against the wall. The steel cap on the end of the rod sparked in the darkness, then began to glow with a gentle white light, illuminating the darkness.

“That’s neat. What is it?” Erin poked the glowing cap with an armored finger.
“Not even having a laugh, the bloke literally called them ‘glow sticks’,” Rory chuckled. “You strike it, and it uses the impact to make light, for a bit.”
“So, what’s the downside? Seems better than torches,” Layla asked.
“Well, they cost about fifty times what a waxed torch does, and only last for about ten times as long,” he furrowed his brow.
“Speaking of regular torches, I’m an idiot,” Jack stopped and started rummaging in his pack. He brought out one of the previously mentioned waxed torches. “Hey, El, light this for me?”

The succubus snapped her fingers, her hand bursting into flame. She walked over to Jack at the front of the group and waved the fist-sized conflagration over the torch, her golden eyes reflecting the dancing pyre. She stared up at him while the torch caught and began to burn, then winked at him and snapped her fingers again, dousing the hand of flame.

The torch flame wavered in the faint breeze, and as they approached the bottom of the stairs, leading into the ritual chamber, it slowly guttered and died out.

“Mmm… what happened to the torch?” Rory asked.
“The air doesn’t have enough oxygen. Doesn’t necessarily mean we can’t breathe it, just that it’s hypoxic enough to not support an open flame,” Erin replied.
“That’s a big word there, legs,” Layla teased her.
“Mountain climbing,” she shot Layla a thumbs up.
“We’re wasting time. The shrine is right there, a hundred and fifty feet or so. All of you go back up the stairs till the air is fresh. One of you huff and puff and hyperventilate, and I’ll walk with you to the shrine and back. We don’t know how much oxygen is in the air, so there’s no way to know if you’ll pass out once we get inside. Sound good?” Jack’s expression was grim.
“Sounds like a plan, fearless leader,” Erin bounced back up the steps, further toward the light of day. 

She eventually stopped and then began to take deep breaths, filling her lungs and emptying them repeatedly. Jack stood beside her, doing the same.

“Why are you doing that? You don’t need to breathe,” Rory asked.
“Because if she passes out, I’ll have a couple lungs full of air to give her. Not sure it’ll work, but it’s better than nothing,” he replied.
“Huh,” Layla grunted. “Here I thought we were the smart ones.”

Jack gave Layla the finger, but he smiled as he finished sucking in a deep breath. Erin took a huge breath and pointed at the stairs, then trotted off at a brisk pace. He followed behind her as they headed into the dark.

At the foot of the steps, he wobbled his hand at her, and she gave another thumbs-up, then headed in the direction he pointed. As they approached the wrecked ritual apparatus and the charred remains of the carnalis bloom’s central body, he heard her waste a tiny amount of air on a “wow”, before stepping on the shrine’s dais. She got the panel update for the seal, then turned to head back to the stairs. Jack watched her double-take the seal’s description.

Erin: Holy shit.

Her wide eyes snapped toward him, but he just pushed her along toward the chamber entrance.

Jack: Gawk later. Stairs. Move it.
Layla: Oooo, what is it?
Jack: You’re next, so you’ll see it soon. Keep moving, Erin.

Once they reached the stairs, Erin stopped at the base, then turned back toward Jack.

Erin: You can still lift me, right?
Jack: You know I’m almost as strong as you, right?
Erin: Ok. I’m gonna take a few breaths and see how long it takes me to get light-headed. It feels like there’s air moving in here, doesn’t it?

She looked up at the dark abyss of the temple ceiling, invisible in the gloom above them.

Jack: Yeah, I figure whoever built the place made chimneys for airflow. 

He stood next to her, watching her face intently as she took a few experimental breaths, coughing lightly as she breathed in the sooty air.

“Shit, I’m already having trouble. Let’s go,” she turned and took a few steps before stumbling. 

Jack threw her arm over his and hauled her up the stairs, his shadow limbs spreading out to push against the stairs and dig into the walls for more leverage. He dragged Erin past Layla and Rory, out into the light of the temple steps.

“Deep breaths,” he held her hand.
“I know. I’m ok. Just got dizzy,” she replied as she sat down on the steps.

Rory and Layla had followed them back out and exchanged a long look.

“If she can’t make it there and back, you’re gonna have to piggyback us in and out, Tex,” Layla scowled.
“You’ll be fine. She just stopped to check the air quality. Spoiler alert: not good,” he replied.
“You sure?” Rory questioned him further.
“Yeah, unless you don’t think you can hold your breath for one minute,” he smirked.

-----

The other two trips were as unexciting as Jack had promised, though Rory had to exhale and take a breath before they got back to the stairs. Jack rushed him back up the stairs before he had a chance to suffer from hypoxia. It turned out, Layla’s considerable Endurance skill lent itself to holding her breath for extended periods, a fact which she made sure to point out in as lascivious a manner as possible.

After all four had gained the Seal of the First Fruit, Jack went back down into the ritual chamber to try to salvage any part of the ritual array and search for other goods. It seemed, though, the panel was not exaggerating when it claimed no rewards would be available. The array was completely destroyed and all that was left of the carnalis bloom was charcoal and carbonized organs.

Jack: I’m going to destroy the dungeon heart. This place is awful and it shouldn’t exist.
Erin: I support this plan.
Rory: There’s something about the heart though, yeah? Something I’m forgetting.
Layla: Yes. Yes, there is.
Rory: Well?
Layla: When he starts fucking with it, every Cronenberg-Carpenter-King wannabe in the inner mantle is gonna come running straight for us.
Jack: Look, I’m not a hundred percent sure, but I think this array is here to change the aspect of the font. It’s all Tide-aspected stuff.
Layla: You some kind of magic expert now, Jackson?
Jack: No, but my Appraise is pretty high, turd.
Rory: What’s it say?
Jack: That the crap around the heart is a “Broken Tide Array”. All the little blue cracked bits are “Shattered Mana Focusing Gems”, and the metal is “Ruined Thalassic Iron”, all of which are Tide-aspected crafting materials. Remember how Tide and Wood combine into Mutation?
Layla: Ok, I retract my previous criticism. So somebody added water mana to the forest mana to change the font aspect. Do we know if destroying the heart will change it?
Jack: No. But it’s better than doing nothing.
Layla: So you’re going to do something impulsive with no idea of the future consequences.
Layla: Well, you’ve got my vote, Jackson.
Jack: Get ready to book it out of here.

Jack began clearing away the charred remains of the carnalis bloom, kicking massive chunks of charcoal off the dais and hacking away at the pieces that were too large to dislodge. Finally, the heart was laid bare, a softball-sized iridescent mass of shimmering blue and green in the vague shape of some foreign organ or egg sac, held a foot off the ground by a column of blackened resin that looked like a combination of beeswax and insect carapace. 

As he stared down at the heart, he felt a tenuous tug on his mana and his mind. Invisible lines of power seeped out from the mass of crystal, questing for a connection between his soul and the heart. He could sense that all the thing would need was enough time to worm its way into his soul, and it would have a new protector.

He didn’t need the heart for immortality, and he certainly didn’t want the twisted power it had to offer.

He brought his longsword down on the heart in an overhead strike with all the power he could muster. The heart cracked down the middle, glassy chunks of solidified mana spinning across the dais, sublimating into contrails of blue-green power as they went. The shimmering light within the heart went berserk, spraying sparks of congealed mana in every direction.

Erin: Hurry it up, Jackson. Whatever you’re doing in there, the forest doesn’t like it.

His blade fell again, shearing off a third of the heart’s mass. The shard exploded in a wave of mutation mana, battering him with metamorphic power. He noted with alarm that a quarter of his Spirit had just evaporated with the shard. Without further hesitation, he slammed his sword into the heart one final time, driving straight through the broken crystal and into the resin holding it aloft.

The explosion of mana was blinding.

Jack quickly checked his panel and saw that he had a little more than a tenth of his Spirit remaining. He let out a nervous laugh and turned to run toward the steps. Then he noticed the newest panel message.

Layla: Jackson. Hurry the fuck up.

He shot a worried glance back at the heart, where a deep green, peaceful mana had begun to wash across the dais. 

“Yeah, I’m comin’...”

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