Dusk (BL Light Novel)

When Retaking lowered his gaze, the camera followed to show the corridor’s underside. A black cliff, seemingly artificial and devoid of any visible floor, stretched below. From it came a low, guttural wuuuuung—a beastly sound that wormed its way straight into your ears. Good thing this was just a game. If this were real life, I’d have dropped to the floor and crawled across.
Curious if the floor really didn’t exist, my character cautiously reached out a foot to test the void. But before I could go any further, Retaking—who’d been kneeling near the ledge to inspect it—suddenly grabbed me and yanked me back. Then he shot me a glare, eyes full of what the hell do you think you’re doing, and promptly extended a hand over the edge to wave it through the air. A safe and smart method.

While I was fumbling around like a moron, Retaking was, as usual, wise and careful. And that’s when the spirit, which had been perched silently atop Abrea’s head, flitted over to us. It beat its wings dramatically and gestured past the corridor, as if to say: You’re supposed to fly across, duh.
Flight was indeed a feature in Dusk, tailored to its butterfly (Jeopa) and moth (Bia) races. But in the current main area of Atelierna, flight was disabled. So outside of loot dungeons, nobody really used their wings. Naturally, I’d assumed there was some kind of hidden bridge or traversal gimmick. Apparently not.
…But there was a problem: {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} you could only fly in zones explicitly marked as Flight Enabled.

Flight was determined per region and dungeon. For example, all of Atelierna was a no-fly zone, while the gear-farming dungeon Fallen Sky Fortress of the Ancient Lord allowed full aerial movement.
And I knew that this mirror maze dungeon was not flyable. I’d seen the flight gauge grayed out when we entered. No doubt about it.
[Party] Honeybread: Can you fly here?

[Party] Retaking: Nope.
So… we’re just supposed to fly across?
What is this, some wuxia game where you can run up walls and bounce across rooftops? …Well, okay. There was a kind of trick. If you kicked off a wall mid-glide, you could gain a burst of forward momentum. But the timing was notoriously tight, and even pros rarely used it. No way it would get us across this long of a corridor.

As we stood around, awkwardly eyeing the corridor and the spirit, Adam suddenly piped up from behind—scolding us for dawdling. Then, without fanfare, he spread his limp, silk-dark crimson wings and soared up over the abyss.
Typical NPC. Just casually does what we can’t. It was clearly a scripted showcase, but still—it felt like he was taunting us. Can’t even do this much? So smug. So Adam.
[- Adam: ovnoykii vnwyvmzeyit? kocaut xewivn traazuilidy kivniicciict?]
— “What’s wrong? Forgot how to fly already?”

Of course he couldn’t resist taking a jab.
But the truth was—we really couldn’t do anything.
Flying? Sure, I’d love to. System said no, bro.

Adam hovered lazily above, staring down at us with half-lidded eyes. Then, in a single smooth motion, he dropped back down and folded his wings in a whip-quick snap.
[- Adam: qyv……ryccuit kokiicki dautvnwyvmivxki.]
— “Ah… Could it be because of that?”
[- Adam: “Give me your hand.”]

Without warning, he reached out toward me—more accurately, toward my character—and asked for my hand. Startled, Honeybread extended his hand like a nervous handshake.
The moment our fingers touched, Adam pulled hard.
With just that force, Honeybread was yanked off his feet and hurled straight toward the ledge.
Both Retaking and—shockingly—Abrea sprang forward with hands outstretched. But the most dumbfounded one here had to be Honeybread himself, who now found himself very nearly plummeting to his death.

Seriously? This is how I die?
I wasn’t actually panicking. I knew someone would save me before I splatted. So instead, I just stared at Adam’s face. And… he looked stunned. As if he genuinely hadn’t expected me to fall. Like the idea that I wouldn’t spread my wings hadn’t even crossed his mind.
[- Adam: qiv……]
— “Uh…”

While Adam floundered, Abrea came diving in with wings outstretched, grabbing me mid-fall and pulling me up. He was furious. And oddly enough, he wasn’t yelling at Adam—the one who threw me—but me, the one who almost fell.
[- Abrea: “You idiot! This isn’t a flight-restricted zone designated by the High Council—why didn’t you spread your wings? You think someone’s watching you here?”]
I couldn’t fly, you fool! The gods themselves disabled it!

[- Abrea: “Even if you're blessed by the gods and can't die, you should still value your life!”]
Shouldn’t you be yelling at Adam, the reckless bastard who yeeted me off the edge?
Not saying Abrea was wrong—especially not when you consider Adam’s track record—but I don’t think I did anything that warranted getting chewed out.

Some people freeze up in dangerous situations! Don’t come at me!
I was gonna die of injustice before I even hit the floor.
Abrea looked like he was about to scold me more, but suddenly his expression shifted.

[- Abrea: “…Or… is there something else? Is that why? Is that why you just… dropped like a puppet on strings?”]
He seemed to think my character had some divine restriction tied to his connection with the gods. Not exactly true… but not entirely false either. Let’s just say: complicated.
My character clearly didn’t get what Abrea was saying. He just tilted his head in confusion. Abrea squinted, sighed, then gently set me down on solid ground.

Still fuming, he turned away and flew across the corridor. The purple spirit zipped after him, trailing a faint blur.
Once Abrea was a tiny speck in the distance, Honeybread turned sharply to glare at Adam.
Adam, suddenly sheepish, cleared his throat.

[- Adam: “Well, you’re alive, so it’s fine, right? Haha!”]
I thought he might apologize. Nope. Not even close.
What did help was Retaking’s character smacking him on the back with a “you dumbass” kind of energy.

Retaking kept slapping him until Adam squawked that his wings were gonna fall off and leapt off the cliff himself—putting distance between them. Retaking wiped his hands off, glaring after him.
[- Adam: owitiyd, ro lbxdlvni uikyctivm deiopui kivnsuiwikycuiqtiidy vnyctivmtiovm kyctuiyit. xewreu gavmlrxioi vnoyvmui wautcy fxwyvbwyvmwui xewciouictikyt.]
— “Anyway, like he said, this is one of the few places they can’t watch. Doesn’t matter if it’s flight-restricted or not—you can still fly.”
[- Adam: kyriivmui irzisii xewiydyryckaut. uqelui vniivmzii kirxmevmiikit.]
— “So figure it out and get over here. We’re going ahead.”

And with that, Adam vanished into the distance, ending the cutscene. The screen faded back to normal—and only the lingering trail of the spirit remained by our side.
Figure it out and get over here, huh?
No matter how many times I checked the flight gauge, it remained dark and disabled. Flight unavailable. Not just for me—Retaking was standing silently too, scanning the room.

Ugh. I hated this kind of gameplay. No combat, just poking around looking for some lever or trigger. Especially in an area that seemed utterly unpromising and dull.
I didn’t want to wander around clicking on invisible objects. I just wanted Adam’s dumb “you can fly” prophecy to come true. Muttering to myself, I lazily pressed the hotkey for flight.