Evan woke up with a groan, clutching his head with both hands as he tried to stop the room from spinning. It took a moment before he felt well enough to get back to his feet, only to take a step and stumble immediately.

Tyr appeared from out of nowhere, catching the summoner before he could fall back to the ground. After spending a few seconds steadying himself, he thanked the shadow before waving the shadow off.

“We are leaving. Make sure that there is nothing blocking our exit,” he said. The giant dungeon king continued to stare at him for several long seconds. Evan imagined that underneath his armored crown the shadow’s face was filled with worry. He smiled at the thought.

“Go,” Fenrir commanded, his voice echoing throughout the silent room.

Evan activated [Summon Shadow] and fifteen shadow warriors rose from the ground. The shadow king’s ethereal cape shimmered as he turned around. The tip of his massive sword created sparks as it scratched against the stone floor as he walked away. He raised his hand and waved for the Shadow Army to follow him. “Come. We have work to do.”

The shadow warriors turned to follow their commander and as one they all melted into the floor.

* * *

Baal stood in front of the other nine Architects. “The God-King of Shadows has escaped,” he spat.

He hated the undercurrent of fear that laced his voice as he spoke. But fear was good. Fear kept you alive while fools died.

It had been centuries since he had felt fear’s icy grasp. The way it burrowed into your very soul. Ate at you from the inside out.

A heavy silence fell about the room. There was dread written plainly on the faces of the older members of the council — those who had fought in the war against the bloodthirsty God-King of Shadows.

The younger members, however, seemed excited.

They had heard the stories. The God-King’s name was whispered throughout the Labyrinth.

Fairy tales told by the older generation to scare the younger into obedience. A boogeyman.

Yet, what did they have to fear? They were the strongest members of their races. Those that had come before them had managed to defeat the God-King once already.

They would put him in the dirt like they had every other enemy they had come across.

The Demon King, Belial, was the first to speak.

The crimson minotaur slammed his giant fist against the stone table. Cracks spread through the ancient stone like spiderwebs. “We cannot allow him to rebuild the Shadow Army.”

There was a sharpness to his voice that even the younger members of the council did not miss. Terror.

Belial was the strongest of all of them. A veteran of countless battles. Rivaled only by the other nine Architects if they combined their strength. And maybe not even then.

Gaia, the leader of the Giants stood up. “HAHA! LOOK AT BELIAL, THE KING OF DEMONS! AFRAID OF AN EIDOLON OF THE PAST. HAVE YOU GROWN WEAK IN YOUR OLD AGE—”.

Belial materialized behind the seated giant before he had even finished speaking. The giant reached for his axe, but he found it biting into his neck. A black, horned demon whispered in his ear. “You forget your place Gaia. While the council considers us equals, you would do well to remember that we are not. If you fear nothing you are not brave, you are simply too foolish to be afraid. Do not test me.”

The black demon stepped back and enveloped the massive axe in his hand in black hellfire, burning it to ash. A moment passed and Belial transformed back into his minotaur form before taking his seat at the far end of the council table.

There was fury etched on Gaia’s face, but his anger was tempered by his terror.

Baal waited till Belial was seated before continuing. “Belial is right. The longer we wait, the stronger he will become.” He turned towards the leader of the giants. “For now, it is time we break the humans. Gaia, gather your forces. I will wake up the black core, Hel.”

The giant snorted as he rose from his chair, then he turned and left the council chamber.

* * *

Evan stretched as the sun hit his face and warmed his body. “So Fenrir, where should we go from here?”

“I don’t sense another dungeon nearby. We should take some time to explore this new world,” the dungeon core chuckled. “Perhaps we should find that healer that you seemed so fond of.”

He could hear Fenrir grin as he whispered in his ear.

Evan laughed at the core. It wasn’t often that he had a sense of humor, so he was surprised at the jest. “I suppose you are right. About taking some time to get adjusted to this new world,” he looked down at his bare chest and tattered pants. “If anything, I should try to find a tailor to make me some new clothes.”

Hundreds of shadows rose from the ground like a black mist. He held the image of the blonde healer in the space of his mind that they shared. “Find her.”

The shadows scattered in all directions until only the shadow king remained. “What are your orders for me, my King?”

Evan began to walk towards the area where the trio of adventurers and he had first landed. As they walked Evan avoided the dense vegetation which allowed him to get a clearer view of the land they passed. Where he had only noticed green before, he could now see that the leaves on the trees were turning orange. Every so often a burst of wind would cause several of the leaves to fall off the branches. In the distance, he could see the outline of green mountains that seemed to stretch on endlessly.

Earth really was beautiful.

“I have a question for you. There was a symbol on the door that led to your throne room. A sleeping dragon. What do you know about it?”