Zane moved deeper into Sector F, his boots crunching against broken pavement as he stepped over the remnants of a world lost to time.
The ruins around him stretched endlessly, towering skyscrapers reduced to skeletal husks, their steel frames jutting into the sky like the ribs of a long-dead beast. Some buildings had unnatural distortions—as if pieces of them had been erased from reality itself, leaving behind only jagged, incomplete structures.
The air was thick with the remnants of mana radiation, the unstable energy left behind by dungeon collapses. It clung to the ruins like an invisible mist, warping light and sound in subtle ways.
This wasn't just a ruined city.
It was a graveyard of broken dungeons.
And somewhere in this place… a new dungeon had formed.
Zane adjusted the strap of his empty mana gun at his waist. He still had no bullets, no backup, and no way to fight if something went wrong. All he had was his determination and the knowledge that he had nothing left to lose.
A week ago, if someone had told Zane he'd be walking into Sector F alone, he would have laughed.
A week ago, he was just another Classless nobody in Sector D, scraping by with nothing but a gun and a stubborn will to survive.
But after what happened with Dain, after watching yet another weak hunter get crushed beneath the weight of the system, something in him had snapped.
For years, he had told himself that he could find a way to live in this world, that he could endure as long as he kept his head down.
But enduring wasn't living.
Surviving wasn't winning.
The world had already decided his fate—that without a Class, without a Rank, he was nothing.
But if he was already nothing, then what did it matter if he risked everything?
What did he have left to lose?
Zane exhaled slowly, steadying himself. He had made his choice.
There was no turning back now.
Zane moved forward, stepping carefully over the cracked pavement as he weaved through the wreckage of old buildings. The deeper he went, the stranger the ruins became.
Some areas looked like they had been completely frozen in time, the windows of collapsed skyscrapers still reflecting a city that no longer existed. Other areas had chunks of the ground missing entirely, as if something had carved holes in reality itself.
This wasn't normal dungeon influence.
Something had broken here, something more than just the land.
Zane's stomach tightened. What the hell kind of dungeon was this?
Then, he saw it.
A faint blue glow pulsed in the distance, flickering like a dying ember.
Zane ducked behind a rusted transport vehicle, peering over the edge. The glow was coming from deep within the ruins, nestled between the wreckage of three collapsed buildings. It wasn't like the normal dungeon gates he had seen before—those were stable portals, circular and shimmering with raw mana.
This one was unstable.
The air around it rippled, like a heatwave distorting reality itself. The edges of the gate cracked and shifted, as if the portal itself was struggling to stay open.
Zane's pulse quickened.
This is it.
This was what Kiera wanted him to find.
And it was clear why no one had claimed it yet.
This dungeon wasn't just a random anomaly—it was a malfunction.
Zane swallowed hard. He had no way of knowing what was inside. It could be a collapsed dungeon, a failed experiment, or worse… something that even the Cataclysm System itself couldn't control.
He should have turned back.
He should have gone back to Sector D, begged Kiera for another job, and moved on with his miserable life.
But that wasn't an option.
Because this? This was the first real opportunity he had ever gotten.
Nothing to lose.
Everything to gain.
Zane stepped forward and entered the gate.
The moment Zane stepped through the unstable gate, a cold, crushing force wrapped around him.
It felt like he was being pulled in every direction at once, his body stretched and compressed as if the laws of space no longer applied. His vision blurred, his ears rang, and for a brief second, he wondered if this was a mistake—if the dungeon was so unstable that it would tear him apart before he even reached the other side.
Then, just as quickly as it began, the pressure vanished.
Zane stumbled forward, his boots hitting solid ground. His vision cleared, and he took a sharp breath, scanning his surroundings.
He was inside.
But this wasn't like any dungeon interior he had ever heard of.
---
The air was thick with a strange, golden mist, curling through the vast, open space like living smoke. Towering black stone pillars rose into the sky, their surfaces etched with glowing symbols in a language Zane didn't recognize.
The ground beneath him was smooth but fractured, as if it had been shattered and pieced back together. Strange floating debris hovered in the air—chunks of stone, broken weapons, even the skeletal remains of long-dead creatures.
And above it all, high in the sky, a massive crack in reality pulsed with energy. It was like looking at a wound in space itself, flickering and shifting as if struggling to remain open.
Zane clenched his jaw.
This isn't normal.
He had seen dungeon interiors before—most were modeled after ancient ruins, underground labyrinths, or massive forests filled with monsters.
But this?
This place felt wrong.
Almost like it wasn't finished.
Zane's fingers twitched toward his mana gun out of instinct, but it was still useless—no energy, no bullets.
Which meant if anything was lurking in here, he was helpless.
He took a cautious step forward, his boots clicking against the cracked stone floor. No movement. No sound.
Was this dungeon even alive?
Then, just as the thought crossed his mind, the air shifted.
A deep, echoing hum vibrated through the chamber. The floating debris trembled, and the golden mist swirled faster, as if something had just been activated.
Zane froze.
Something was here.
And whatever it was…
It had just woken up.
---
The temperature dropped.
A sudden wave of pressure crashed down on Zane, like an invisible force pressing against his chest. His breath caught as the symbols on the pillars began to glow brighter, their eerie golden light flickering like fire.
A shadow shifted at the far end of the chamber.
Zane's pulse quickened as he took a step back, his muscles tensing.
Something was forming—a humanoid figure, slowly piecing itself together from the floating debris. Fragments of ancient armor, twisted metal, and shattered stone assembled into a towering warrior, standing at least ten feet tall.
Its face was featureless, just a smooth helmet of cracked obsidian, but its body was covered in jagged, rusted armor, its joints pulsing with the same golden light that filled the room.
And in its massive, clawed hand… a black, serrated blade formed from pure energy.
A guardian.
A protector of something buried here.
The entity lifted its weapon, the air around it distorting from the sheer pressure of its presence. It took a slow step forward, the sound of metal scraping against stone echoing through the chamber.
Zane didn't need a system notification to tell him what was happening.
This thing was here to kill intruders.
And he had just walked straight into its domain.
Zane's fingers twitched toward his useless gun before he cursed under his breath.
No weapon. No powers. No backup.
He had only one choice.
Run.
Without hesitation, Zane turned and sprinted toward the nearest exit.
Behind him, the guardian moved—faster than something its size should be able to.
A deep, mechanical growl rumbled through the chamber as the entity raised its massive blade, preparing to strike.
And then—
Zane's foot slammed into thin air.
The floor beneath him collapsed.
The last thing he saw was the world tilting violently, his body falling into the abyss below.
And then—
Darkness.