Extra To Protagonist
Chapter 108 - 108: Giant Trouble (2)

The silence was awful.

Not normal silence. Not tired silence.

It was the kind of silence that came after a boss fight that ended too easily.

The kind that made you suspicious of the floor. And the walls. And your teammates.

And breathing.

Merlin stared at the sealed stone gate behind them.

It didn't look like a wall.

It looked like a scar.

Welded shut by force, not design. Twisted in the middle like the labyrinth itself had flinched at the last second and slammed the door to save its own skin.

"Okay," Nathan said, wheezing on the floor, "I vote we stay right here forever."

"No," Merlin said.

"I didn't mean forever-forever," he amended. "I meant like, you know. Until it dies of old age."

"It's not going to die of old age," Seraphina said, still crouched, still pale.

"It'll die when we kill it," Elara added flatly.

Nathan turned to her like she'd just said gravity was optional. "Are you volunteering?! Because I'm not even qualified to stab lizards!"

Then the wall moved.

Not a full shift.

Just one line of stone, groaning.

Merlin turned toward it.

'No.'

'It can't.'

A low scrape echoed through the chamber.

It wasn't behind them.

It was inside the wall.

Elara stepped back once.

Nathan scrambled off the floor. "Nope. Nope. That's illegal."

The wall cracked.

Just an inch.

But enough.

Merlin heard it. Not just sound. The vibration. The tension building in the seams.

The dragon wasn't gone.

It had found the door.

And now it was clawing through.

A massive talon punched through the stone.

Rock exploded outward. Dust hit them like a wave. Elara ducked to cover her eyes. Seraphina braced, mouth tight.

Nathan screamed like someone losing a game of tag to a bulldozer.

Merlin didn't blink.

Sovereign Chain activated again.

It didn't flash. It didn't glow.

It just tightened everything.

Breath. Step. Vision.

His whole world narrowed to a grid of motion paths and danger zones.

The wall fractured further.

A second claw tore downward. A roar bled through the cracks, distorted by the stone but not softened.

If anything, it was angrier.

Deeper.

Personal.

'Of course it's not letting us go. That would be sane.'

A chunk of wall collapsed.

The dragon's head appeared.

Only the top half.

One eye.

Golden. Massive.

Glaring at Merlin like it remembered the exact pattern of his footprints.

Merlin stared back.

He didn't move.

Not yet.

Not until it finished testing the opening. Not until it made a decision.

The dragon inhaled.

The temperature dropped.

Elara grabbed Merlin's sleeve. "Move."

The breath hit.

The wall detonated.

And the chase started again.

—

The wall was gone.

The dragon wasn't.

Its eye locked on Merlin like it had been waiting for round two.

No fire. No build-up. Just movement. Fast. Violent. Personal.

He didn't hesitate.

Didn't yell some noble one-liner. Didn't make eye contact.

He just threw out one hand and let wind explode from his palm like he'd slapped the air across the face.

The blast caught Elara first.

She stumbled back, boots sliding.

Then Seraphina.

Then Nathan.

"Wait—Merlin—!"

Too late.

He shoved again.

Harder.

The wind roared like it was trying to erase them from the floor, sent all three flying down the next corridor like misfired arrows.

Then he turned.

And ran.

'Okay. Okay, cool. Solo death run. Been a while.'

The ground cracked behind him as the dragon lunged again. Not graceful. Not aerial. Just sheer weight, collapsing everything in its path like it hated architecture.

Merlin didn't look back.

He dropped low, shifted left, pulled space sideways just enough to fold into a tunnel that technically didn't exist a second ago.

The walls bent.

The ceiling shrieked.

And Sovereign Chain kicked in hard—his limbs moved faster than thought, instincts dragged forward like the fight was already happening.

Wind wrapped his steps. Not speed. Direction.

He slid down a stone ramp that hadn't existed thirty seconds ago, skipped the bottom, and landed in a tight hallway shaped like the inside of a cracked ribcage.

Too narrow.

Too sharp.

Too alive.

He ducked through anyway.

Dust and light peeled past his coat as something thundered overhead.

The dragon was still chasing.

Not directly.

It didn't fit.

But it was trying.

And the walls were cooperating.

He took another corner. Then two more.

Everything blurred. Heat and stone and pressure and breath.

Then a sudden dead end.

He skidded to a stop.

Not a wall.

An altar.

A raised platform of black stone, surrounded by crushed bones and carved glyphs that pulsed dim blue under the dust.

'Nope.'

'Absolutely not.'

He turned.

The hallway behind him… wasn't a hallway anymore.

It was a shadow.

Wide.

Tall.

Heavy.

The dragon's face filled it slowly.

One eye. Two.

Its jaw curled just enough to show teeth that looked older than most cities.

It exhaled.

Merlin didn't move.

Couldn't.

There wasn't room.

Not to fight.

Not to run.

He tightened his grip on the blade anyway.

'Well. This was a dumb idea.'

The dragon stepped forward.

And the stone behind him began to glow.

—

Silence.

Except not really.

Because the dragon was breathing.

And breathing, in this case, sounded like a volcano about to give a TED Talk.

Merlin didn't lower his blade. He didn't raise it either. Pointless. He could stab this thing straight in the eye and it'd probably sneeze him across the continent.

He took half a step back.

The altar behind him lit up, more symbols, more glowy nonsense. Still not helpful.

'Alright. Think. Dodge? No. Taunt it? Worse. Beg? Never.'

The dragon leaned in.

Closer.

The pressure in the air cracked. Not physically. Mentally.

And then it spoke.

Not with a mouth.

With thought.

You reek of distortion.

Merlin's spine locked.

The voice was everywhere. In the stone. In the blood behind his ears. In his shoes, probably.

It wasn't a voice meant for people. It was a concept. Raw. Cold. Ancient.

And very, very annoyed.

'Cool. Brain invasion. Definitely climbing the list of top three least favorite Fridays.'

He didn't respond.

The dragon didn't wait.

You do not belong in this vein of stone. This flesh of earth. You were not carved here.

"I get that a lot," Merlin muttered.

The eye narrowed.

The pressure increased.

You bend space like a child folds parchment. Sloppy. Loud. Wasteful.

"I wasn't trying to impress you."

You succeeded. In irritation.

The ground pulsed again. The altar behind him flared once, bright. Then died back down like it lost interest.

Merlin didn't take his eyes off the dragon.

His grip on the blade tightened.

Sovereign Chain wound through his nerves, coiled and tense.

It wanted him to move.

But he didn't.

Not yet.

'If it wanted me dead, it could've done it six paragraphs ago.'

The dragon exhaled again. Warmer this time.

You are too young. Too broken.

"Tell that to everything I've killed."

You are not ready.

"I didn't come here for a performance review."

Something cracked above them.

The ceiling hadn't liked that last line.

Dust rained down.

The dragon shifted again. Its head now blocked the entire entrance. There was nowhere left to run. No exit. No leverage. Just him, a glowing altar, and the ancient equivalent of a grumpy DMV boss with wings.

And then it stopped.

Just stared.

A beat passed.

Two.

Then, quietly, the voice returned.

The Gate watches you.

Merlin froze.

That phrase didn't belong here.

Not in this labyrinth.

Not in this world.

Not unless—

The dragon blinked.

Once.

And pulled back.

Its claws slid from the stone. Its body retracted like it had only just remembered something better to do.

And just like that, the corridor behind it was empty again.

No roar.

No breath.

Just the quiet.

Merlin stood alone.

Blade still in hand.

Sweat cold down his spine.

'What the hell is the Gate exactly.'

—

The corridor was empty.

The pressure had gone with it.

No claw marks. No smoke. Not even a scorch on the stone.

Just silence. And him.

Merlin didn't lower the sword.

'That's the second time something ten times my size decided not to kill me.'

'Either I'm lucky, or I'm someone's science project.'

The altar behind him pulsed again.

He turned to look at it. Just stone. Just runes. Nothing explained itself.

Typical.

His breath slowed. Body still coiled. Mana not fully settled.

Sovereign Chain hovered in the back of his nerves, like it knew this wasn't over.

Then—

The air shifted again.

Not physically.

Like an update to reality had just been installed mid-step.

And the text came.

Not system text. Not his system.

Brighter. Cleaner. Older.

[The Messenger watches with interest.]

[They liked the way you stood your ground.]

[They wonder if you would have still spoken, had you known the dragon's name.]

[They chuckle.]

[They find your fear entertaining.]

Merlin blinked.

Hard.

'Oh no. Not you again.'

He didn't respond.

The messages continued anyway.

[The Messenger flips a coin.]

[It lands on its edge.]

[They say nothing.]

The altar behind him glowed again.

Different this time.

More focused. As if it had just remembered it had a purpose.

Merlin turned fully toward it, slowly, blade lowered but still ready.

He didn't know what this was. But something old was moving.

And apparently, he had a fan now.

Perfect.

'First a dragon. Now an audience. Next I'll be hosting a divine Q&A in the death corridor.'

Another line appeared.

[The Messenger offers you a path.]

[Do you accept?]

Merlin stared.

Then looked around.

Alone.

Tired.

And cornered by the plot like it owed him rent.

"…fine," he muttered. "Let's see where your damn path goes."

The altar lit up like someone had flipped a switch on reality.

And the floor dropped out.

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