Thane sighed and rubbed his jawline. It was sharper now—definitely an improvement—but he couldn't enjoy it. Not with the system sounding so smug.
"Four hours," he muttered, rolling his eyes. "Thanks for the motivational shove, Jeeves."
He stepped into the center of the clearing and inhaled deeply. The forest around him was tranquil, a sharp contrast to the chaotic mess inside his head. He focused inward, reaching for the strange weave of threads coiled beneath his skin. They hummed—faint but alive. Thane began shifting his mass in rapid succession. Lighter. Heavier. Lighter. Hold. Walk. Jog.
He settled at a consistent 20% mass reduction and found he could jog with ease. Even with roots and uneven terrain, he barely stumbled. The forest started to blur at the edges as he picked up speed. His breathing found rhythm. The wind against his face blew away the tumbleweeds loitering in his head. His thoughts cleared.
Then he heard a familiar sound.
A guttural, clicking hiss echoed through the trees like the sound of bones grinding in a blender. He turned—and immediately wished he hadn't.
A sedan sized centipede burst from behind a tree, its armored body rippling with unnatural speed. Dozens of needle-sharp legs stabbed the ground in perfect, horrifying coordination, each step punctuated with a sickening crunch. Its glossy black plates shimmered like polished obsidian—and then, with a sickening flex of its body, it curled into that all-too-familiar shape. This time larger than a wrecking ball.
"No, no, noo," Thane gasped. "Not another death ball."
The centipede locked into a tight sphere, its spines jutting outward like a crown of razors—and then it rolled. Fast.
"Oh come on," Thane groaned, already speeding past. "Why is it always me?"
The rolling monster shrieked, a metallic scream of tearing wind and clattering blades, and hurtled forward like a spiked boulder launched from a siege engine. It tore through underbrush, gouged through roots, and obliterated a boulder that stood in its path. Stone shards flew past Thane's head.
Panic lit his nerves on fire. He was hauling buns, but it was gaining—fast. That noise behind him, that horrifying grind-screech-crash, told him everything he needed to know. He was seconds from being mulch.
Thane pushed harder, instinct taking over. He dumped mass from his body past the comfort zone—25%. 30%. The moment he did, his body grew dangerously light, every step more of a bound than a stride. His feet barely kissed the ground. He began hurling himself forward in a bounding sprint, bouncing off rocks, careening between trees. Bushes and low branches blurred by, his body a streak of motion.
And still, behind him, that demonic buzzsaw of a centipede screamed closer.
The wind roared in his ears.
And then—clarity.
Everything clicked. The world sharpened. His breath, his movement, the rhythm of the forest—it all aligned. He wasn't thinking anymore. He was moving. A blur between shadows. A wraith darting through the seams of the forest.
There. The dungeon.
He angled sharply right, launched off a tree trunk, and rocketed towards the mouth of a cave.
Then—guards. Feral stone goblins. Snarling, turning, drawing jagged weapons as they blocked the cave mouth.
No time to plan.
Thane gripped his flail and flexed his will, mass surging into the weapon mid-air. It swelled in his hands—suddenly dense, impossibly heavy—and he didn't bother with aim or form. He just swung.
The flail smashed into the stone just beside the cave entrance.
BOOM.
The force of the impact ripped through him. His body snapped sideways mid-flight, spinning around like a tetherball gone rogue. He barely managed to keep hold of the flail, almost yanking his arm out. A wave of pain radiated from his shoulder.
The impact sent a thundering crack through the mountain. Shrapnel blasted into the cave's tunnel, but it was what happened next that mattered—the overhanging rock at the entrance gave way with a sickening groan.
For one frozen instant he caught sight of the goblins looking up.
Then the mountain punished them.
A cascade of stone and earth avalanched down, roaring like an angry deity. The goblins vanished beneath it, any final sounds they made smothered under the roar.
Thane tumbled through the edge of the collapse, flailing gracelessly, arms pinwheeling, carried by momentum and sheer dumb luck.
He hit the ground hard and skidded to a stop inside the cave. Air filled with grit. His head throbbed. Everything spun.
"Ugh… What the heck was that plan?" he mumbled, blinking against the haze.
Then he heard it—the scratching. Loud, insistent, echoing just beyond the cave-in. The centipede hadn't given up.
He sat up quickly, too quickly. The world swam.
A quick glance at his stamina bar showed it was low, really low.
"Oh, that's not good."
He scooted backward from the rubble, breath shallow, body aching, heart hammering in his ears. His hand slid through something with just enough resistance to make him pause.
He looked down slowly.
His suit was frictionless, but it didn't offer much protection beyond that—no armor, no padding, not even the courtesy of telling you when you'd just dragged your hand through something gross. If it hadn't been for the subtle drag of whatever this was, he might not have noticed.
The dust began to settle, and faint light bled into the tunnel—pale blue and softly pulsing. Bioluminescent moss lined the cavern walls in erratic patches, casting eerie shadows and giving shape to the carnage.
A goblin lay sprawled to his left, its neck pierced by a jagged shard of rock. Another was slumped nearby, half-buried in rubble, its lifeless eyes reflecting the moss's ghostly light. A wide smear of green blood streaked across the floor—exactly where his hand had been.
He lifted it for inspection. Not a drop. Of course not. The suit might as well have been coated in Teflon.
"Guess we're just pretending that never happened," he muttered.
He eased back until his shoulders met the cool stone wall. Ten feet of narrow corridor with a low ceiling and uneven floors lead toward darkness. The blue moss flickered like dying embers, but here and there it flared brighter, revealing worn carvings on the walls—runes half-swallowed by time, claw marks gouged deep into the stone.
The air was colder here. No breeze carried from further within. No sound—except the settling dust, his own shallow breathing... and the faint, rhythmic scratching of claws against stone.
The sound persisted just beyond the rubble—a slow, deliberate rasp, like nails dragging across slate. The centipede was still out there, methodically testing the collapse.
Then—nothing.
The scratching stopped.
The silence that followed wasn't a relief.
Thane didn't move. Didn't dare breathe too loudly. The absence of noise pressed against his ears. It was heavy and tense, like the world was holding its breath with him.
He counted to ten. Nothing. Twenty. Still nothing.
Thane shifted, the cool stone had been uncomfortably pressing into his spine. The dust had mostly settled, and the eerie bioluminescence gave the narrow tunnel an otherworldly glow. His heartbeat was finally slowing down.
Then he heard it.
A deep, sonorous voice echoed from everywhere and nowhere at once, low and resonant enough to set his teeth on edge.
"Welcome to the Feral Caverns, Challenger. Peril and power lie ahead—assuming you survive long enough to claim them."
The air thickened.
Up ahead, where the tunnel narrowed into darkness, the stone began to shift. Veins of faint blue light spiderwebbed across the walls, pulsing in sync with something deep below. A low rumble followed—not loud, but deep, ancient.
Then, at the end of the tunnel, the stone folded inward with smooth, deliberate precision—like a vault unlocking after ages of silence. A spiral of blue light began to bloom in the dark, no thicker than thread at first, but growing with every slow revolution. Each turn added mass, weaving brightness into the air like something long dormant now awakening.
It pulsed once—deep and final.
A jagged arch of obsidian and slate emerged around the vortex, the surrounding stone humming with restrained power. Beyond the glowing veil, no clear image took shape—only shifting light and the impression of a space untouched by the natural world.
The portal quivered softly, like water remembering the ripple of a vanished stone.
The threshold had opened.
The dungeon was awake.
The portal pulsed softly, casting long, flickering shadows down the stone corridor.
Thane didn't move.
He just stared, chest still rising and falling in uneven breaths, every muscle buzzing from adrenaline and nerves. One hand already gripped his flail; he brought the other to it, squeezing tight—not for defense, but to anchor himself. To remind himself he was still here. Still alive.
"At least I didn't lose you," he muttered.
The last tendrils of tension slowly bled from his body. The scratching from outside had gone silent, and for the first time in what felt like hours, there was no immediate threat. Just eerie quiet, cold air, and the rhythmic ripple of the portal.
He slid down the wall to sit.
"Okay," he exhaled. "Okay. Time to think."
The moss gave off a soft, eerie glow, just enough to highlight the green blood streaked across the stone… and the goblins left in pieces. He was doing his best not to look too closely when a soft chime rang inside his head.
Thane crossed his fingers, and opened his notifications.
System: Congratulations on arriving at your first dungeon sir. Kill the boss of the Feral Caverns to complete your quest. Killing all goblins will increase your rewards. Bonus objectives available. A quest expiration timer has been added to your HUD T - 3:47.
"Great. A timer. Just in case I forgot I was screwed." Thane sighed and moved on.
Title Awarded: (EPIC) Dungeon Pioneer (Mini Map)
Awarded for being the first human to challenge a dungeon. A minimap has been granted to aid your continued survival and exploration.
He was beyond tired. On any other day, a minimap would've been a highlight.
"Cool… next."
Title Awarded: (RARE) Instinct Driven (Increased synergy with your Magic)
In a moment of peril, you abandoned technique and placed your trust in instinct. The result was a rare state of unity with your magic. That resonance is now easier to reach.
A faint spark of pride flickered somewhere beneath the exhaustion.
"Now that sounds useful."
Combat Log:Six Feral Stone Goblin killed EXP awarded.
Thane combed through changes in his stat screen next, purposefully avoiding EXP.
Health: 89%
Stamina: 12%
Skills:
Flail mastery - novice (49%) → apprentice
Unique combat - novice (56%) → apprentice
He paused for a moment, reflecting on the sharp 18% jump in his unique combat skill. It had to be from how he collapsed the tunnel mouth on those goblins—a desperate move that paid off more than he expected.
Thane groaned, rubbing his face with both hands—mostly out of instinct. His armor made the gesture completely unsatisfying.
He eyed the portal but held back. Charging in at 12% stamina felt like a terrible idea. Instead, he stared at the quest timer to gauge health and stamina recovery.
Two percent stamina recovery per minute, give or take.
That would put him near full in under an hour. His health was recovering too—about half a percent a minute. This was the first time he'd noticed his health not sitting at 100%, though he figured it couldn't be the first time. He chided himself for not paying attention.
It wasn't exact science, but it was good enough. If nothing changed, he'd be fully healed and rested with over three hours left on the timer.
The portal rippled quietly ahead, waiting.