[Status: Iron Maiden Mimic – Level 20]
[Current HP: 750/750]
[Hunger: 100/100 (Satiated)]
[New Passive: Humanoid Partial Morph (Active)]
The air on the lower levels of the Iron Sepulcher didn't just smell like rust; it smelled like impending doom. As I approached the Great Gear Gate—the entrance to the Second Floor Boss Chamber—the vibrations in the floor changed. It wasn't the frantic scurry of rats or the rhythmic march of patrolling guards. It was the steady, heavy thrum of high-tier Mana.
A Silver-Rank Elite Party was preparing for a raid.
I didn't rush in. My time as a "Stalker" had taught me the value of the shadows, and my new *Humanoid Partial Morph* gave me a terrifying advantage. I retracted my heavy iron legs and used my new articulated arms to pull my massive seven-foot frame into a dark, recessed alcove directly above the Boss Gate. I clung to the stone and iron pipes, looking like a discarded piece of heavy machinery.
From my vantage point, I could see them clearly.
[Party: The Gilded Aegis (Silver-Rank)]
[1. Captain Valerius - Lvl 28 Guardian]
[2. Seraphina - Lvl 27 High Priestess]
[3. Kaelen - Lvl 26 Arcane Scholar]
[4. Thorne - Lvl 26 Iron-Breaker Rogue]
"Check the buffs again," Valerius commanded. His armor was polished to a mirror finish, embossed with lions. He carried a shield that pulsed with a golden light—a direct contrast to my dark, blood-stained iron. "The Gear-Grinder Ogre isn't like the first-floor trash. If we don't sync our cooldowns, we'll be crushed before the first phase ends."
"I've already warded the perimeter," Seraphina replied, her staff glowing with a soft, white luminescence. She held a stack of blue crystals—high-grade Mana Potions. "But Valerius, my mana reserves are at 70%. We used too much clearing that ambush in the armory."
"Which is why we rest here for ten minutes," Valerius said, pointing to the center of the staging area. "Thorne, set up the supply station. We need the stimulants and the repair kits ready for a quick swap."
My embossed iron faces twisted in the dark. *Supply station.*
In a typical dungeon raid, the supply station was the party's lifeline. It was a designated spot where they dropped their extra gear, their heavy alchemy crates, and their backup weapons so they could move faster during the boss fight. It was their sanctuary.
It was my invitation.
[Skill Activated: Mimicry – Object Morph (Lvl 2)]
[Form Selected: Medical Supply Crate]
I waited until the Rogue, Thorne, began laying out the supplies. He was efficient, moving with the practiced grace of a man who had done this a hundred times. He set down a rack of potions, a bundle of whetstones, and then he looked at the empty space where the main medical chest was supposed to go.
"Dammit, did the porter drop the heavy crate?" Thorne muttered, looking back toward the dark hallway. "We're missing the main surgical kit."
I didn't miss a beat. While Thorne turned his head, I dropped from the ceiling.
I didn't land with a thud. I used my *Muffle Step* and my humanoid arms to catch the floor, lowering my seven-foot iron body into the alcove Thorne had just cleared. By the time he turned back, I wasn't an Iron Maiden. I was a large, sturdy-looking wooden chest with a red cross painted on the side, reinforced with 'sanitary' white iron bands.
[Status: Deceptive Stillness (Active)]
[Mana Concealment: High (Due to Level 20 Milestone)]
Thorne blinked. "Oh. There it is. I must be more tired than I thought." He walked over and kicked my side—a standard test for mimics.
My *Iron-Bound* plating absorbed the blow. I didn't vibrate. I didn't groan. I felt like a solid, heavy box filled with bandages and salves.
"Sturdy thing," Thorne grunted. He reached down and placed a tray of glass vials directly onto my lid.
The vials were filled with *Grand Mana Restoratives*. To a Mimic, this was like a human being served a glass of vintage champagne. I could smell the concentrated magic through my lid. It was intoxicating. But I remained still.
The party gathered around me. They sat on their bedrolls, leaning their backs against my "cool" metal sides. The Priestess, Seraphina, actually leaned her head against my corner, closing her eyes to meditate.
I could feel the warmth of her neck. I could hear the rhythmic pulse of her carotid artery. My *Bio-Detection* was screaming at me to snap. One bite, and the healer would be gone.
*No,* I told myself. *Patience. If I eat her now, the Warrior kills me. I wait for the Gear-Grinder.*
"Everyone, listen up," Valerius said, standing up and drawing his sword. "The Gear-Grinder Ogre has a 'Desperation' phase at 10% health. He'll trigger a room-wide steam burst. When that happens, Seraphina drops the Holy Aegis, and everyone else sprints back to this crate. We grab the fire-resistance potions, heal up, and finish him. Understood?"
"Understood," the party echoed.
They stood up, checked their blades, and marched toward the Great Gear Gate. The massive iron doors began to grind open, revealing a chamber filled with hissing steam and the silhouette of a massive, cybernetic Ogre with a rotating saw for an arm.
"FOR THE AEGIS!" Valerius roared.
They charged into the boss room. The heavy doors slammed shut behind them, leaving me alone in the staging area.
I didn't stay a medical crate for long.
*Krieeeeet.*
I shifted back into my *Iron Maiden* form, standing tall amongst their remaining supplies. I looked at the tray of Mana Potions Thorne had left on my head.
I opened my doors and swept the entire tray into my gullet.
[Item Consumed: Grand Mana Restorative x6]
[Mana Core Overcharged: +300% Mana Regeneration for 30 minutes.]
The energy was explosive. My internal gears began to spin with a blue fire. I felt my *Humanoid Morph* becoming more fluid, more natural. I looked at the other crates in the room—the ones containing their backup weapons and armor.
"They think they're coming back here to heal," I thought, my iron faces grinning.
I didn't eat the rest of their supplies. Instead, I used my *Digestive Acid* to carefully melt the latches on all their *real* supply crates. Then, I spat a thick, viscous bile into their fire-resistance potions. It wouldn't kill them—not immediately—t but it would act as a paralytic.
Then, I moved.
I didn't go into the boss room. I climbed the wall and positioned myself directly above the door, inside the steam-ventilation shaft.
From my new perch, I watched the fight through the observation grate.
It was a massacre. The Gear-Grinder Ogre was a Level 35 Boss, and he was taking the 'Gilded Aegis' party to school. Valerius's shield was glowing red from the friction of the saws, and Seraphina was burning through her mana just to keep the Rogue alive.
"He's at 15%!" Thorne yelled, dodging a blast of scalding steam. "Get back to the supplies! Now!"
The party retreated. They were battered, bleeding, and desperate. They burst through the doors, back into the staging area.
"The crate! Get the fire potions!" Valerius shouted, lunging toward where I had been.
He reached for the medical crate, but his hand hit empty air.
"Where is it?" Valerius gasped, his eyes wide. "The crate was right here!"
I didn't give them time to solve the mystery.
[Skill Activated: Ambush Leap + Heavy Slam]
I dropped from the ventilation shaft like a falling star. Seven feet of spiked iron and holy-infused wood slammed directly onto the Captain.
*CRUNCH.*
[Critical Hit! Internal Bone Fracture detected.]
"VALERIUS!" Seraphina screamed.
I didn't wait. My doors flew open, and my *Magnetic Pull* activated, dragging the wounded Priestess toward my dark interior. She had no mana left to resist. She didn't even have time to pray.
*SLAM.*
[Internal Execution Active: -100 HP/sec (Mana-Boosted Damage)]
The Rogue and the Scholar stood frozen, caught between a dying Ogre in the other room and a sentient, man-eating iron coffin in their sanctuary.
"Krieeeeeeeet."
I stepped over the crumpled body of their Captain, my iron doors dripping with the Priestess's blood. I wasn't just a monster anymore. I was the reason the Second Floor was about to become a graveyard.
"Lunch," I vibrated, the sound echoing through the iron hall, "is served."
[Hunger: 100/100 (OVERFLOW)]
[Status: Third-Party Sabotage Successful.]