#itmov

    “...yes! Right, uh. Honestly, this is a little more complicated than just avoiding flying, apartment sized slabs of stone.” Cylvus lamented. “Considering there are no notes of the entire top part changing, nobody knew that this how this entire thing works underground. And what- what we’re witnessing right now is when the dungeon is shifting; pried apart and then put back together. Maybe— Maybe it’s time based, or maybe it’s triggered, I don’t know, but— ”

   Cyl snapped their fingers together silently, muttering to themselves as they tried to formulate their hypothesis. Their eyes narrowed slightly as another module passed inches away from their noses. It was probably travelling at the speed of a running horse. 

    “ —the point is: I think this entire dungeon is moving in pieces. Pieces within a larger room than the dungeon itself. L-like a bunch of blocks rebuild and rearranged and then put back together. It’s designed to make people get lost within it — “

     “Your wealth of information and ideas is always—” Brenn’s sentence abruptly interrupted by a deafening grinding of wall against wall just to their left, shaking the entirety of the structure they were hitchhiking on. The skeleton let out an exhale, sharp and rattled, and continued with a heavy sigh. “—greatly appreciated, Cyl. How long does each shuffle usually go for?”

    “Not long; Less than 10 minutes. Too short for us to even pinpoint where we were, and where we’re going. It’s supposed to be effective ”

    “And when the next one will start?”

    “It’s... one of those...” The radio operator moved their hands about. Steven noticed that Cyl gestured their hands in a peculiar way when they were in deep thought. “...ever-changing variable. Each dungeon have different time limits between shuffles. If we’re in a Tier III dungeon, time limit varies from five to six hours before the next shuffle.”

    “...Fuck me sideways, then.” Brennan muttered under his breath.

    “Seconded. We’re really, uh, kind of at the mercy of a colossal contraption here.” 

   At this point, Steven decided to finally yap. Being left out of the conversation was not a pleasant experience for anyone, especially for someone who was stuck to the wall by the arms. His two seniors, realizing they have forgotten that one more individual is present, turned to Steven and gave him an apologetic grimace.

   “...What about sending Steven to scout the modules and find everyone?” Brenn asked, and the brine jolted with excitement. Finally, some action! Steven responded by yipping and vigorously nodding his head in agreement. 

   “We can, but with the risk of not knowing when this will stop and what wall connects to which?” Cyl commented, their eyes meeting with the brine’s. “Not a great idea. We don’t even know how big this entire thing is. What if we get lost again?”

   At that comment, Steven whapped his tail against Cyl’s gelatinous body followed by a slurry of whines towards his mentor. 

   “We can’t gamble on insanely high risk, Steven. You do not want to learn from Krafften, you understand?” Brennan chided, only to be interrupted by whining through bared fangs. Surely, they could understand that young medic was displeased with the choice they had made? Who did they think he was? He’s licensed, for gods’ sake! He could jump, run, and even leap atop of one of the moving modules if he timed it right enough. It’s not that hard! Instead, he was bound to the wall, treated like a kid. He’s a brine gods dang it, their greatest asset, not a pitiful little brother figure!

   Too bad he couldn’t exactly communicate this without signing. He swore Brennan was trying to saying something to shut him up. But right now, Steven didn’t want to hear it nor lose to his superior. And to ensure his victory, Steven replied with an ear-splitting screech, rivaling that of a loudspeaker’s. 

    Have you heard the Mining Department’s brines screech before? Brines can be loud, you see. It’s a way for them to intimidate those who trespasses into their territory. Younger ones who were recently rescued whine all the time from within their rooms. The tired nurses and the cleaners down the hall would tell you that it’s like working with fifty alarm clocks everyday, even with noise-cancelling pads installed on their walls. Darlene, the receptionist, would tell you that they whine and yap in pitches that rival a whistle, or Jeb forbid, an emergency siren. (And you may wonder why she always wore the noise-cancelling headphones, donated by the kind souls from Comms. Now you know.)

   Steven has the pitch of loudhailer feedback and is as noisy as one if he wanted to. If it’s going to be a lose-lose situation, damn right Steven will make it everyone’s problem.

   “It’s not the time for this, you little shit!” Brenn yelled, trying to inch close to the unruly junior and maybe clamp his mouth shut.  “Keep this up and Cyl’s gonna put a mouthful of slime in you, you ‘ear me?! 

    On the other hand, Cylvus was uncharacteristically quiet through the entire tantrum ordeal. The slimeperson’s eyes were not even on their two bickering teammates. They squinted, blinked, and went wide eyed with realization.

    ...and then proceeded to wordlessly gave both Brennan and Steven a piece of their mind.

   “Shut up! Shh!!” The slimeperson scolded, and while the two are still stunned, used their hands to turn the two’s faces to the same direction they were previously looking at. “Look there and tell me what you see.”

    Steven was about to hiss back when his eyes caught trail of something in the distance. The mismatches eyes were focused on a glint of light in the distance. A ball of yellow, dancing from left to right, left to right. Dancing, like a wisp seeking for attention.

    And the brine caught whiff of fear. Fear, like cigar smoke dissipating in the air.

    “...Is that...” Brennan muttered, inching further away to look. “Torchlight?”

    ...And then he realized, eyes blown wide open.

    “...we don’t use torches!” The skeleton exclaimed, rattled. “That’s them!“