The faint hum of fluorescent lights filled the cramped office space. Cory Hayes leaned back in his chair, his fingers running through his disheveled hair as he stared at the spreadsheet on his monitor. Numbers blurred together, and the weight of exhaustion pressed down on him like a physical force.
"Another late night," he muttered, glancing at the clock on the corner of his screen. 2:34 AM. His coworkers had all gone home hours ago, leaving him alone in the suffocating silence of the accounting firm's building.
He sighed and rubbed his eyes. This was his life now: endless hours of tedious work, the constant grind of a thankless job, and the nagging realization that he had nothing to show for it. No family, no friends—just a tiny apartment filled with secondhand furniture and the cold glow of his computer monitor.
"Why do I even bother?" Cory whispered to himself. The question had haunted him more and more lately. He was thirty-four years old and already felt like his life had ended.
Suddenly, his phone buzzed on the desk, breaking the monotony. A notification flashed across the screen:
"Past-Due Balance: Final Warning."
Cory swiped it away without a second thought. He knew what it was—another bill he couldn't pay. His credit card debt was spiraling out of control, his rent was overdue, and the collection calls were becoming more aggressive by the day.
"Guess I'll deal with that tomorrow," he muttered, though he knew it was a lie. There was always another excuse, another distraction to keep him from facing the inevitable.
He leaned back in his chair, letting his eyes drift to the ceiling. Memories of a younger, more hopeful Cory flashed in his mind: the college graduate with dreams of starting his own business, the kid who used to tinker with video game design in his free time. Those dreams had withered under the crushing weight of reality.
Just as he was about to return to the spreadsheet, a sharp, stabbing pain shot through his chest. Cory gasped, clutching at his shirt as the pain intensified. It felt like his heart was being squeezed in a vice, each beat growing weaker and more erratic.
"No… not now…" he wheezed, collapsing onto the desk. The spreadsheet blurred out of focus, replaced by a creeping darkness that swallowed the edges of his vision.
Panic surged through him as he fumbled for his phone, but his fingers felt like lead. His mind screamed for help, but his body refused to respond.
"This can't… be it…" he thought, his breaths coming in shallow, ragged gasps.
As the pain reached its peak, Cory's thoughts began to fragment. He thought of his parents, long gone. He thought of the friends he'd drifted away from over the years. And finally, he thought of the dreams he'd abandoned—the life he could have lived if only he'd been stronger, braver, better.
The darkness closed in completely, and Cory's last conscious thought was a simple, unspoken plea:
"I wish I could start over…"
A moment of silence stretched into eternity. Then, suddenly, there was light—not the harsh, artificial glow of fluorescent bulbs, but a soft, ethereal radiance that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once.
Cory's eyes fluttered open, and he found himself standing in an endless void. His body felt strange, weightless, and as he looked down at himself, he realized with a jolt that his form was no longer human.
His skin was a smooth, obsidian black, veined with lines of glowing crimson and violet energy. His hands, once calloused and ordinary, were now clawed and shimmering with an otherworldly power.
"What… what is this?" he whispered, his voice echoing in the emptiness.
Before he could process what was happening, a mechanical voice spoke, cold and emotionless, yet strangely reassuring:
"Welcome, Fenlor Dusksoul."
The name sent a shiver through him—it wasn't his, but somehow, it felt right.
"You have been chosen as a Dungeon Core. Your purpose: to grow, evolve, and survive. Failure to do so will result in annihilation."
The voice faded, and a shimmering interface appeared before him, its glowing text stark against the void:
System Interface
Dungeon tier: 1
Dungeon level: 0
Energy absorbed: 0
Abilities: [View List]
Dungeon ore: 0
Cory—no, Fenlor stared at the interface, his mind racing with confusion, fear, and a strange, burgeoning excitement.
"What the hell is going on?" he muttered, but deep down, he already knew.
This was it—the second chance he'd wished for.
And this time, he wasn't going to waste it.