The city of Fortress Haven loomed against the setting sun, its colossal steel walls a grim reminder of the monsters lurking beyond. Inside, life was a precarious balance of fear and routine. Guilds ruled the city like kings, their banners flapping in the wind, promising safety at a price. To most, they were saviors. To Ethan Vale, they were another hurdle to climb over.
Ethan adjusted his tattered gloves as he stood near the city's outskirts, his sharp eyes scanning the cracked pavement. His scavenger's bag hung loosely over his shoulder, already filled with meager finds: a rusted dagger, some monster bones, and a handful of battered crystals. It wasn't much, but it would keep him fed for a few more days. He sighed, the exhaustion of a long day sinking into his bones. His stomach growled, a sharp reminder of the half-eaten loaf of bread he had rationed that morning.
"Hurry up, Vale," came a gruff voice behind him. Jaron, an E-rank hunter with more scars than tact, sneered. "We don't have all day. If the dungeon erupts, I'm not babysitting you."
Ethan's lips tightened, but he said nothing. He wasn't here by choice. Scavenging in the aftermath of an E-rank dungeon break was dangerous, but it paid enough to keep him alive. Barely. He knew better than to argue with hunters like Jaron; they'd just as easily leave him behind if trouble brewed.
The ground beneath them trembled, and Ethan's heart sank. A low rumble echoed from the entrance of the dungeon ahead—an eerie, gaping maw of darkness set into the earth. Strange, twisted vines spilled out from the edges, their dark green tendrils twitching unnaturally. The air seemed to shimmer, a faint haze distorting the edges of reality.
"It's destabilizing," Jaron said, his voice tight. He turned to the others. "We're out. Move!"
The hunters began retreating, their heavy boots clanging against the pavement. Ethan hesitated. He'd heard stories about destabilized dungeons. If left unchecked, the monsters inside would spill out, turning the surrounding area into a bloodbath. But something held him in place. A faint, unnatural glow emanated from the dungeon's edge, just barely visible against the deepening shadows.
"You coming, Vale, or do you want to die here?" Jaron barked.
Ethan's eyes locked onto the glow. It wasn't like the typical dungeon light, which flickered and wavered with the chaotic energy of the realm. This was steady. Solid. Calling to him. His pulse quickened, a mix of fear and curiosity tugging at him.
"Go on without me," Ethan said, his voice steadier than he felt.
Jaron's laugh was sharp and cruel. "Your funeral." Without another glance, the hunters disappeared down the path, leaving Ethan alone.
He stepped closer, his breath quickening. The glow pulsed softly, like a heartbeat, drawing him forward. The noise of the city faded as he crossed the threshold of the dungeon, replaced by an oppressive silence. The air changed—heavier, thicker, charged with an energy that made his skin prickle. Shadows twisted and danced along the cave walls, creating shapes that seemed almost alive. His every footstep echoed, the sound swallowed by the vast emptiness ahead.
The source of the glow lay just ahead, half-buried in the ground. A small, intricately carved sphere, its surface etched with symbols that seemed to shift when he looked at them. Faint whispers tickled his ears, too soft to understand but impossible to ignore. Ethan crouched, his hand hovering over the object, hesitation gnawing at his resolve.
"What the hell is this?" Ethan muttered. The sphere pulsed faintly, a rhythmic thrum that seemed to sync with his heartbeat. He reached out cautiously, his fingers brushing against the cool surface of the sphere.
The moment he made contact, the world exploded.
A searing light engulfed him, and a voice—cold and mechanical—rang in his ears:
"System Initialization Complete. Welcome, User."
Ethan's vision swam as streams of data scrolled before his eyes. He stumbled back, clutching his head as the voice continued.
"Mission Assigned: Survive."
The glow around him faded, and with it, the safety of stillness. From the shadows of the dungeon, movement stirred. Low growls echoed, and pairs of glowing eyes blinked into existence. Wolves, their fur matted and their fangs glistening, emerged from the darkness. Dozens of them. Their claws scraped against the stone floor, the sound sending a chill down Ethan's spine.
Ethan's heart pounded as the System's interface materialized in his mind, displaying a simple prompt:
Weapon Assigned: Rusted Dagger
The worn dagger from his scavenger's bag appeared in his hand, its weight familiar but far from reassuring.
Skill Assigned: Arcane Slash
A surge of energy coursed through him, and instinct took over. As the first wolf lunged, Ethan sidestepped, the dagger glowing faintly as he swung. A trail of shimmering blue light followed the blade, slashing across the creature's flank. The wolf yelped and crumpled, dissipating into black mist as a small crystal clinked onto the ground.
The System chimed:
+10 EXP
"What the hell is happening?" Ethan growled, spinning to face the remaining wolves. They circled him, their growls deepening. Sweat dripped down his brow as the System's voice cut through the tension.
"Tip: Use terrain to your advantage."
Ethan's eyes darted around. The dungeon was a jagged cave, its walls uneven and dotted with sharp protrusions. An idea sparked. He backed toward a narrow crevice, forcing the wolves to approach him one at a time. As the first one lunged, he struck again, Arcane Slash carving through its chest. Another crystal clattered to the ground.
+10 EXP
The fight was brutal and relentless. Ethan's arms burned, his breaths came in ragged gasps, but he refused to falter. One by one, the wolves fell, until only silence remained. The smell of charred fur and metallic blood lingered in the air. His legs trembled as he scanned the area, ensuring no more threats lingered in the shadows.
The System's voice returned:
"Mission Complete. Reward: +1 Stat Point. +1 Health Potion."
A small vial materialized in his hand, its contents glowing faintly. Ethan slumped against the cave wall, his body trembling. He stared at the potion for a moment before uncorking it and downing the contents. Warmth spread through him, mending his wounds and restoring his strength. The pain in his limbs dulled, replaced by a faint sense of vitality.
"What did I just get myself into?" he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. His gaze drifted back to the sphere, now dim but still pulsating faintly. A thought struck him—this wasn't just an object. It was alive, or something close to it.
As he rose to his feet, the glow from the sphere pulsed again, drawing his gaze. This time, it spoke without words, a silent promise of power. Ethan tightened his grip on the dagger, his jaw set.
The cave seemed to shift around him, the shadows deepening as if the dungeon itself was alive and watching. Somewhere in the distance, a deep, guttural roar echoed, shaking the ground beneath his feet. The sound sent a jolt of adrenaline through his veins.
Ethan squared his shoulders. "If this is my way out of the gutter, then so be it."
He stepped deeper into the dungeon, ready to face whatever lay ahead.