The all-knowing Player (Solo Leveling)

Pounding hearts (2)

Corresponding episode: none

Dust rises from the floor in light clouds as dragon wings flutter through the corridor. Moon and Qibli stride forward with a jump in their steps, their scales gleaming in the dim light. They lead three frames over a path carved through layers of dust by countless back-and-forth trips. The flickering flames of a torch project dancing light and shadows over the walls as Esil holds its handle, her grip tightening along with her heart at the sight of this hallway forgotten in time.

The once-familiar corridors of this wing to the castle have become foreign to her—deserted, abandoned, claimed by a frozen stillness and the faded scent of smoke covered by that of dust. Even this gallery, witness of her clan's long lineage and achievements, hasn't been graced with the caress of the sun in a long time, barely alive through its sole regular visitor. Be it out of stubbornness, foolish delusion, or painful melancholy, he is the only one who hasn't given up on remembering. As if the past could mean anything anymore in this ever-blazing land.

White sheets have been draped around the numerous paintings hung on the wall and the statues and pieces of furniture to prevent them from collecting dust. The windows through which light used to flood over slick tiles are now tightly closed by shutters. It hasn't always been this way. Esil has known this place to be full of life, each surface polished by servants and doors guarded by soldiers. But those times have become nothing but a distant memory since the moment they woke up in this fire-bathed city, with no clue how or where the rest of the clan remained.

So she pushes the memory away, turning to the elves to offer them a falsely indifferent shrug. "There's not much to see here."

"This is a gallery, right? Why's everything covered?" Eira wonders, her feet kicking up pieces of fluff as she steps right into a layer of dust to examine the sheet covering a statue. She turns around with sparkling eyes. "Can I lift it?"

"Eira, I don't think that's–"

"Sure!" Esil exclaims, cutting right through Skadi's sentence.

The warrior's ears flatten against her head as she glowers at Esil, who steps after the healer without sparing her a single glance. The demon places the torch on an unused ring-shaped holder attached to the wall before gripping the sheet and yanking it off with the majestic movement of an artist unveiling its latest masterpiece. The sheet flaps off the statue, the dust it gathered flying after the cloth as she lets it fall to the side—right where Skadi stands. A shower of dust swirls over her frame. Eira instantly burst out laughing at the sight of the astounded face of her friend. A fit of wild coughs overcomes the warrior as the tiny particles enter her respiratory system, tingling painfully in her trachea.

"Hey, *sshole!" she wheezes between two coughs. "Am I invisible to you, or are you doing that on purpose?"

A quiet laugh between amusement and nervousness rumbles up Esil's throat. "Oh, I—sorry, I miscalculated. Are you alright?"

She bends near the elf, lifting a hand to pat her back, but Skadi smacks her fingers away with a glare. "Then why are you laughing?"

"You should have seen your face!" Eira exclaims, her laughter growing louder as her friend's scowl turns to her. "Skadi, the village's best warrior, defeated by dust! If Nalin knew! I'll ask him to build a dust cannon!"

"Don't you dare!"

Skadi rushes forward to grab the healer, but that movement has the dust that landed on her shoulders fly back up, and another fit of coughs interrupts her before she can reach her friend. The healer answers with more laughter, soon joined by the mocking howls of the dragons. Esil lets out a crackle again, this time louder. Skadi's glare snaps back to the demon, who stifles her laughter with a hiccup before clasping her hands behind her back and looking away with a clueless expression.