The sandstorm shrieked across the horizon, dunes whipping into the air like waves. The three adventurers huddled together, faces gritty, eyes burning.

  Bert pointed at the rows of trapdoors shimmering beneath the goggles. “Okay. Which one?”

  Leo adjusted his glasses, notebook trembling in his hands. “Statistically, we should verify. Triple-check before committing.”

  Harlada cupped her hands and bellowed into the dunes, “OTHER BERT! THIRD ON THE RIGHT, YES?”

  From the sand came a sharp groan. “For the last time, yes. Third. On. The right. Not second. Not fourth. Not ‘left but kind of right.’ Third. On. The right.”

  “HE SAID THIRD ON THE RIGHT!” Harlada screamed back at the other two.

  “WE HEARD HIM!” Leo and Bert shouted in unison.

  The storm bore down on them, the air thick with grit.

  Bert cracked his knuckles. “Alright. Third on the right. No miscounting this time.”

  Harlada shot him a glare. “You miscounted last time.”

  “I DID NOT!” Bert snapped.

  Leo, trembling, held his notebook high like a holy text. “We leap together. Synchronized movement. Precision steps. One, two, three—”

  The three of them hurled themselves forward, boots slamming into the sand. They dove headlong into the glowing trapdoor, the storm closing in behind them.

  The crystal pulsed overhead, smug but faintly impressed:

  Correct Door Selected. Desert Challenge Progression: Recorded.

  The sand swallowed them whole.

  ***

  They tumbled through the trapdoor and hit stone, rolling in a heap.

  For a moment, silence. Then the crystal pulsed overhead:

  Correct Door Selected. Desert Challenge Progression: Recorded.

  They froze. Then all three erupted.

  “WE DID IT!” Bert roared, punching the air.

  Harlada actually laughed, sparks snapping off her fingers. “Finally!”

  Leo scribbled furiously, voice trembling with relief. “Statistically improbable, yet accomplished!”

  They high-fived, tripped, then high-fived again, grinning like idiots.

  From the dunes above, a long groan echoed faintly, so pained it was almost physical. Other Bert didn’t bother speaking. You could feel the cringe in the silence.

  Bert ignored it, flexing his biceps. “See? Teamwork. We’re unstoppable.”

  “Statistically delayed,” Leo corrected, still scribbling.

  Harlada smirked. “Shut up, professor. Let us have this.”

  Then they looked up.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  The chamber ahead stretched wide, swallowed in pitch black. Their shouts had already bounced back to them, but louder, multiplied — a thousand echoes layering into each other until it felt like a crowd mocking them.

  They froze, shoulders pressed together.

  “…That’s not normal echo,” Harlada whispered.

  Leo’s glasses gleamed faintly in the dark. “Correct. The resonance suggests extreme scale. Potentially infinite void space.”

  Bert grinned nervously. “Or it’s just… really echo-y. Nothing bad about that, right?”

  The echoes answered back, warping their voices into distorted laughter.

  ***

  The Watcher’s stone eyes flared green, its voice thundering:

  “What is strong without Strength,

  sees without Perception,

  and wins without Skill?”

  The riddle boomed, echoing endlessly across the chamber.

  Leo stepped forward, notebook trembling. “The answer is… an immovable wall!”

  The Watcher’s eyes narrowed. “INCORRECT.”

  Harlada snapped her fingers, sparks leaping. “A blind oracle?”

  “INCORRECT.”

  Bert pointed at himself, grinning. “Me!”

  A silence followed, so heavy it was almost painful. Then the Watcher sighed. “INCORRECT. AND STUPID.”

  The echoes multiplied their failures: stupid… stupid… stupid…

  They stood there awkwardly. Harlada finally crossed her arms. “Don’t worry about it. We’ll get it eventually. We can try infinite times. That’s how Bronze works.”

  The chamber went dead silent. The Watcher blinked slowly.

  “…INFINITE TIMES?”

  Leo nodded solemnly. “Correct. Unlimited attempts we are already at bronze again, so if you could kill us not to painfull?”

  “That would be appreciated.” Bert Added.

  The Watcher groaned, stone grinding against stone. “…THIS WILL TAKE FOREVER.”

  With a long, rumbling sigh, the great eyes dimmed. The stone door behind it cracked open, glowing faintly.

  The crystal pulsed overhead, text flickering like it was trying not to laugh:

  Riddle: Failed. Outcome: Pity Victory.

  A pedestal rose, carrying a cracked gem glowing faintly gray.

  Reward: +1 Endurance Gem. Party-Wide Effect Applied.

  The gem dissolved into their chests. Bert flexed. Harlada smirked. Leo muttered darkly, “Statistically undeserved.”

  From the dunes came Other Bert’s dry voice: “You broke the Watcher with stupidity. Impressive.”

  The Watcher said nothing more. Its eyes closed, almost relieved to be rid of them.

  The crystal pulsed one last time:

  Progression Recorded. Achievement Unlocked: Too Dumb To Fail.

  ***

  The adventurers shuffled through the Watcher’s chamber, the echoes finally fading into silence. For once, no choices. No rows of doors. Just one.

  A massive stone arch rose at the far end, its frame carved with jagged runes that shimmered red. The door pulsed faintly, each beat echoing like a drum.

  The crystal flickered overhead, smug and final:

  Progression Reached: Miniboss Chamber. Attempts Pending.

  Bert grinned and cracked his knuckles. “Finally! No puzzles. No riddles. Just smashing.”

  Harlada narrowed her eyes. “Or it’s worse. Way worse.”

  Leo adjusted his glasses, notebook trembling. “Correct. Single-entry design implies narrative escalation. Probability of extreme hazard: one hundred percent.”

  From the shadows came Other Bert’s voice, dry as sand. “Finally. Something worth watching.”

  They stood staring at the lone door. No alternatives. No tricks. Just one path forward.

  Bert slapped his cleaver against his palm, grinning wider. “Alright then. Miniboss time.”