The east gate stood quiet in the early morning light, the city just beginning to stir. Merchants hauled their wares toward the marketplace, their carts creaking under the weight of goods. Guards patrolled the walls, their footsteps steady but unhurried. Nick adjusted the strap of his pack, his eyes scanning the road ahead.
He tugged absently at the hem of his hoodie, its dark fabric snug but lightweight—modern, comfortable, and surprisingly practical for travel. It hung loosely over his frame, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing the faint scars that he started hiding at some point in his previous life. His cargo pants, similarly unassuming, were lined with reinforced stitching, an entirely cosmetic choice now that all of his clothes carried the indestructible trait from his wardrobe. Combined with sturdy hiking boots, his outfit was out of place amongst the armor and tunics worn by other adventurers, but it worked for him.
Ray stood beside him, her halberd resting effortlessly against her shoulder. She wore a sleeveless leather tunic dyed a deep crimson, the dark fabric adorned with faint scuffs from her practice fights at the Fighter’s Guild. It was cinched at the waist with a broad belt, from which hung a pair of small utility pouches. Beneath the tunic, fitted black leggings tucked into lightweight boots allowed her the freedom to move.
“You ready for this?” Nick asked, breaking the silence as he adjusted the strap of his pack again.
Ray shrugged, her gaze fixed on the horizon. “Doesn’t really matter what happens, it’s better than cleaning sewage.”
The heavy sound of footsteps drew their attention, Jantzen approaching with his bulk framed by the rising sun. The fine embroidery on his robes gleamed faintly, and a sword hung loosely at his side. His beastkin slave trailed behind him, her chains jingling softly with each step. She kept her head low, her ears twitching slightly as she caught sight of them. Her gaze flicked up once, landing briefly on Nick before darting back to the ground.
“Prompt, as expected,” Jantzen said. “I like that in subordinates.”
“We’re not your subordinates,” Nick replied evenly.
Jantzen chucked, waving a hand dismissively. “Semantics. Shall we move on to the matter at hand?”
Before Nick could respond, Jantzen snapped his fingers, the sharp sound cutting through the morning stillness. The beastkin slave immediately dropped to one knee beside him, her head bowed low.
“My boots,” he said simply.
The girl didn’t hesitate, pulling a soft cloth from the puch at her side and leaning forward to brush a scuff from the leather. The motion was practiced, efficient, and eerily silent. She worked quickly, avoiding eye contact with everyone, her ears flat against her head.
Ray’s fingers tightened on the haft of her halberd, her knuckles whitening as her eyes burned with fury. She had half a mind to knock the smug grin off the fat priest’s face but forced herself to hold back—barely. Through clenched teeth, she spat out an angry challenge: “Are you serious?”
Jantzen raised an eyebrow. “Cleanliness is a mark of discipline. A master’s image reflects on his subordinates.”
“You can’t even see your boots!” she exclaimed with indignation.
“No, but there’s a sense to these things,” he replied, his voice carrying the air of a teacher humoring a particularly dense student. “I walked from my estate to this place, during which I accumulated scuffs and dirt on my boots. That’s how the world works.”
“You bought a whole-ass person to make her clean your boots?” Ray snapped.
The beastkin girl froze mid-motion, her body tensing slightly, but she said nothing. Jantzen smirked, the condescension in his expression deepening. “She knows her place. It’s not cruelty—it’s structure. The world thrives on hierarchy.”
Nick stepped forward, his voice tight. “I know it feels nice at the top of the hierarchy, but there’s a responsibility that comes with the position.”
Jantzen chuckled, rising to his full height as his slave returned to her place behind him. “Of course. Strength defines position. Ambition secures it. Integrity builds it. Dallin teaches us to embrace these fundamental truths.”
Nick glanced at the beastkin girl again, her chains drawing his attention. She stood motionless behind her master, her posture eerily perfect. He shivered just imagining how much of her obedience was drilled into her.
“It’s convenient when you can use a god’s name to abdicate moral responsibility,” he said flatly. “But let’s cut the philosophy and focus on the job. We’re here to hunt goblins, not debate the value of tyranny.”
Jantzen gave him a long look before nodding. “Fair enough. Let’s see if your actions live up to your words.”
As they walked, the tension lingered in the air. Nick stole a glance at the beastkin, noticing the way her ears twitched at every sound, like she was constantly bracing for an attack.
Ray broke the silence drawing his attention back to her. She kept her voice low but sharp. “I don’t care what he says—he’s wrong.”
Nick sighed. “Yelling at him won’t change anything. With his kind of people, you have two choices: ignore or fight.”
“So let’s fight, then!” she decided, her eyes blazing as she glanced at him.
Nick didn’t answer immediately. Evelyn’s words echoed in his mind: You see injustice, and it burns you. He looked ahead, the road narrowing as the wilderness crept closer.
“We’ll figure it out,” he said finally. “But first, we deal with this dungeon.”
“Psuedo-dungeon,” Jantzen corrected.
“You were eavesdropping on us?” Ray challenged.
He let out a soft laugh. “The world doesn’t revolve around you. I’m curious what makes you feel like you have the right to criticize me when you don’t have the strength to back it up. What good does it do you to get mad at my actions?”
Nick rolled his eyes at Jantzen’s smug retort but kept his focus on the path ahead. The road narrowed as the wilderness encroached, trees pressing closer and shadows deepening with each step. The tension lingered between the three of them, unspoken but heavy, broken only by the occasional rustle of leaves in the gentle morning breeze.
“You mentioned pseudo-dungeons,” Nick said eventually. “Care to enlighten us rookies?”
Jantzen glanced at him, his smirk returning. “I forget how much other people don’t understand, sometimes. A pseudo-dungeon is a dimensional anomaly, fragments of space torn loose from reality. Unlike true dungeons, they lack stability and, most importantly, a core.”
Nick frowned. “I take it this ‘core’ is important?”
“The core is a dungeon’s heart. A crystalline nexus of pure magic that anchors the dungeon’s existence. Destroy it, and the dungeon collapses. But pseudo-dungeons are anomalies—they exist without cores. The prevailing theory is that they are remnants of failed or incomplete dungeons.”
“Failed?” Ray asked, her tone skeptical. “How does a dungeon ‘fail’?”
Jantzen shrugged, his robes shifting with the motion. “No one truly knows. Theories range from magical interference to divine intervention. What maters is that pseudo-dungeons are unstable. Their lack of core makes them unpredictable and prone to spawning monsters endlessly.”
Ray tilted her head. “So why hasn’t this one been dealt with?”
“Because it can’t be,” he replied simply. “Without a core to destroy, the aperture remains open. Researchers are studying it, of course, but until they find a solution, adventurers like us are sent to cull the creatures inside.”
“And make some coin in the process,” Nick muttered.
“Exactly. It’s an efficient system. We get stronger, the researchers get data, the monsters are kept in check and, if we’re lucky, we find skillbooks and other treasures inside.”
“Skillbooks?” Ray repeated, perking up. “You can find skillbooks in dungeons?”
The fat priest paused and stared at her. “Dungeons are the only place that skillbooks naturally occur. Did you think they grew on trees or something?”
“Well, yes. Aren’t most books made from trees?”
He sighed dramatically while shaking his head. “You poor soul… But you’ll learn, hopefully. You’d think the ability to respawn would reduce the number of stupid people.”
“Isn’t it the other way around?” Nick suggested. “If the stupid people keep coming back, there’s no way to reduce their numbers. The system is literally the antithesis of Darwinism.”
“I’m not stupid!” Ray interjected.
Jantzen raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “That’s an interesting perspective, but I disagree. Respawning isn’t a free pass. The pain of death, the loss of your belongings, the humiliation—these things tend to weed out those who don’t learn.”
“Unless they’re too stupid to realize they should learn,” Nick countered. “Pain and humiliation don’t fix dumb. They just make people angrier.”
“Or more reckless,” Jantzen agreed. “I’ve seen plenty of people who think they’re invincible. They dive into dungeons like unkillable heroes. But very few of them actually survive long enough to make a difference. Respawning isn’t cheap, and failure adds up. You think adventurers who squander their resources without learning from their mistakes last very long? They get pushed to the fringes, stuck on G and F-rank quests for the rest of their miserable lives.”
Nick shrugged. “I’m sure that happens, but not everyone’s trying to be the next big hero. Some people are just… surviving. Respawning or not, they’re not exactly aiming for greatness.”
Jantzen smirked. “And that’s where we differ. I don’t waste my time on mediocrity.”
Ray bristled at the comment. “So what does that make you? Perfect?”
“Not perfect,” he replied smoothly. “But I strive for strength, ambition, and truth. That’s why I follow Dallin. He teaches us that greatness comes from discipline and drive—not from whining about how unfair the system is.”
Nick glanced at Ray, who looked ready to retort, and placed a calming hand on her shoulder. “Alright, this is heading toward a sermon so we should call it here.”
She huffed, but she didn’t pull away. “Fine. But he’s still wrong.”
“Maybe,” he said. “But I’m sure there’s something we can all agree on.”
Ray scowled. “I doubt it.” She increased her pace until she was moving far enough ahead of them that they couldn’t hear her muttering complaints to herself.
“Sorry,” Nick said. “She’s still a kid at heart. Right now I’m trying to make sure that she doesn’t just murder everybody she disagrees with.”
Jantzen chuckled while watching her with amusement. “I don’t really care that she disagrees with me, and I admire her willingness to voice her complaints. But nobody is actually going to listen to her until she proves her strength and builds up her reputation.”
“I know,” Nick replied. “And maybe by the time she’s proven her strength and built up her reputation, she’ll have mellowed out a little bit.”
“Perhaps…”
Ray kicked an offending rock with all the force she could muster, her boot glowing with a faint light indicating that she’d used her skill Power Strike. The rock was sent hurtling through the air like a cannonball, whistling as it tore a path through the underbrush, slamming into the trunk of a small, unsuspecting tree. The impact was catastrophic—the tree shuddered violently, splinters and bark flying outward in a chaotic spray. A heartbeat later, the trunk gave way entirely, collapsing with a groan into a heap of shattered wood and leaves.
“Or perhaps not…” Nick muttered.
***
The first sign of the encampment was the sound of voices—loud and bustling, cutting through the wilderness’ quiet. Soon, the trees gave way to an open clearing, where rows of tents and makeshift stalls sprawled haphazardly around a jagged, unnatural aperture in the earth.
The Goblin Den.
Nick took in the scene, his eyes scanning the mixture of activity. Merchants lined the outskirts of the encampment, their colorful tents and carts standing out against the muted tones of the soldiers’ and adventurers’ gear. They hawked their wares with enthusiasm, shouting over the noise of the crowd.
“Last-minute potions! Guaranteed to save your life!”
“Skillbooks and scrolls! Fresh from the depths of the last dive!”
“Bring me your loot—I’ll pay top coin for dungeon relics!”
Ray wrinkled her nose at the din. “They’re trying to make a profit when monsters could attack at any moment?”
Nick shrugged. “Everyone’s gotta make a living. Where there’s a need, there’s opportunity, and eventually someone will take it on.”
Closer to the aperture, the atmosphere grew heavier. Soldiers in polished armor stood at ridig attention, their hands resting on the hilts of their weapons. City guards, distinguishable by their simpler uniforms, patrolled the perimeter, their eyes sharp as they watched the crowd. The tension in their movements spoke of constant vigilance—against both the goblins within and the dangers that might come from without.
“Extra security,” Jantzen observed, his tone approving. “It’s good to see the city taking its duty seriously.”
“Aren’t you one of the governing officials?” Nick asked.
“As you can see, I’m doing a fine job,” he replied with a grin.
As they approached the aperture, Nick felt the air shift—subtle but unmistakeable. The jagged hole in the earth pulsed with energy, a faint distortion rippling through the surrounding air like heat waves rising off pavement. The edges of the aperture seemed almost alive, shimmering with an elusive blue light that flickered and danced.
“This is the Goblin Den?” Ray asked, her voice quieter now.
“That’s technically incorrect,” Jantzen replied. “The Goblin Den is on the other side. This is the dimensional aperture used to travel there.”
“Is the door to your mansion part of your house?” she challenged.
“I concede the point,” he acknowledged.
Nick squinted at the shimmering edges of the aperture. “You said this place is unstable, right? How do we know it won’t collapse with us inside?”
“We don’t,” Jantzen replied. “But we’ve been studying pseudo-dungeons for 30 years and none of the ones we’ve found have ever closed. This one’s only been around for a year or so now, so it’s considered fairly safe.”
“Great,” Nick muttered. “Sounds like a vacation.”
“The aperture won’t close on you, but the goblins will be aggressive and the environment might try to kill you.”
Ray’s lips twitched into a faint smirk. “That’s the first good thing I’ve heard all day.”
A soldier stepped forward, blocking their path with a raised hand. “Adventurers?”
Nick nodded, showing the quest parchment and his adventurer ID. Ray and Jantzen also provided their ID cards. The soldier scanned their documentation briefly, his eyes widening when he read Jantzen’s card before he returned the documents and stepped aside.
“Good luck in there. Don’t let your guard down.”
“You as well,” Nick said as they stepped closer.
The distortion in the air grew stronger, an almost magnetic pull emanating from the aperture. Nick hesitated for a moment, his instincts screaming at him to back away. But then Ray stepped forward, her halberd at the ready, and he followed.
Together, they stepped through the shimmering portal—and the world around them dissolved into blinding light.
Project Knightfall 