Evan dismissed the Cryptbear's stats with a casual wave, watching the spectral creature fade back into the dungeon's shadows. The encounter roster was shaping up nicely—a solid mix of stealth, brute force, and psychological warfare that would keep any adventuring party on their toes. He was just starting to consider the mini-boss encounter when a distinctive chime echoed through the chamber, different from the usual system sounds he'd grown accustomed to.
Golden text materialized in his peripheral vision, elegant script that seemed to burn itself into existence: "Companion System: Activated. Summoning Auxiliary Entity now..."
"Well, that's new," Evan muttered, taking a step back as the air in front of him began to shimmer. "And here I thought I'd seen all the surprises this place had to offer."
A summoning circle erupted from the stone floor, far more elaborate than anything he'd witnessed during the monster previews. This wasn't the simple sigil work of dungeon encounters—this was full arcane theater. Golden light spiraled upward in complex geometric patterns, runic script racing around the circumference in languages that shifted between familiar and utterly alien. The circle pulsed with an energy that made his teeth ache and the hair on his arms stand on end.
Evan found himself backing away instinctively. "Okay, definitely not ominous at all. Just a casual Tuesday summoning in my nightmare dungeon."
The light intensified, and through the brilliant glow, a figure began to materialize. As the radiance faded, Evan got his first clear look at the woman standing in the center of the circle—and nearly did a double-take.
A translucent status window materialized above her head, displaying information in elegant golden script:
[Lyra the Lorewarden - Dungeon Companion]
Type: Auxiliary Entity
Class: System Liaison
Level: Administrator
Abilities: Design Assistance, Mob Summoning, Environmental Control
Status: Active Connection Established
It was definitely Lisa Hart, but not quite the Lisa he'd glimpsed in passing around the Nexus Games offices. The system had taken some creative liberties with her avatar. She retained her signature red hair and fair skin dotted with freckles, but everything else had been given a distinctly otherworldly upgrade. Two snowy white fox ears perked up through her hair, twitching slightly as she oriented herself to the new environment. Behind her, five bushy white tails swayed in the air with a hypnotic rhythm that was almost mesmerizing. The system had also been rather generous with her figure—she appeared noticeably more curvy than Evan remembered, the kind of idealized proportions that suggested the AI had definite opinions about companion aesthetics.
Her outfit struck him as aggressively professional—a long, high-collared coat over layered robes that screamed "head librarian," complete with dark stockings and glasses perched on her nose. The whole ensemble managed to be both authoritative and oddly flattering, like someone had asked an AI to design the perfect "stern but attractive academic" costume.
Lisa—or whatever she was calling herself now—glanced around the village once, taking in the crumbling rooftops and flickering red moonlight with the clinical assessment of someone running a quality check. Her eyes lingered on the uneven stones, the abandoned structures, the weathered details that gave the place a kind of quiet weight. She moved closer to one of the ruined walls, running her fingers along the stonework with obvious fascination.
"This is incredible," she murmured, more to herself than to Evan. "The texture mapping, the environmental storytelling—we never had anything close to this level of detail in the original framework." She turned back to him, her fox ears twitching with excitement. "The AI isn't just running the system, it's actively creating art. Look at these shadows, the way the moonlight catches the edges of the roof tiles. This is procedural generation operating at a level we thought was years away from being possible."
Then her gaze settled on Evan, and she offered a slight nod of acknowledgment, seeming to remember herself.
"So," Evan said, crossing his arms and trying to process what he was seeing, "I've experienced a lot of weird shit today, but a librarian kitsune was definitely not on my 'trapped in VR' bingo card."
Lisa's expression didn't change, but there was a hint of amusement in her voice when she replied, "Be thankful the prototype worked. The original design was just some tiny fairy—overplayed and boring."
Despite everything, Evan found himself grinning. "Please tell me you're not about to ask if I need help formatting a document."
"Lisa Hart," she said, extending a hand in a gesture that was surprisingly normal given the circumstances. "Though I suppose technically I'm registered as your dungeon companion in the system now. Long story involving database constraints and character classification conventions."
Evan shook her hand, noting that it felt completely real—warm, with the slight calluses of someone who spent a lot of time typing. "Evan Callister, but I'm guessing you already knew that. So what's the deal here? Are you like me, or are you actually in control of this situation?"
"Bit of both, actually." Lisa adjusted her glasses and gestured to the summoning circle, which was already beginning to fade. "The development team found a way to project my consciousness into the system using some creative interpretations of the companion framework. Think of me as tech support with fox ears and significantly better interpersonal skills than usual."
"Tech support," Evan repeated. "Right. Because nothing says 'customer service' like emerging from a ritual circle in a fantasy dungeon."
"We used a clean permissions profile and found what we're calling a 'narrative-safe entry door' in the Core Weave," she continued, apparently unphased by his sarcasm. "Basically, we managed to slip me in through a backdoor without triggering the AI's security protocols. I'm operating as a Companion Entity rather than a full player—more like Clippy, but with better coding instincts and significantly more dignity."
Evan nodded slowly. "And your actual authority level in here is...?"
Lisa gestured, and a translucent interface materialized in front of her—similar to Evan's but with a distinctly different color scheme, all soft golds and warm amber tones that matched her fox-themed aesthetic. Her fingers danced across the floating panels with practiced ease, cycling through tabs labeled "Mob Summoning," "Environmental Controls," "Encounter Balancing," and "Design Assistance." The interface responded smoothly to her touch, displaying a comprehensive toolkit that looked surprisingly robust.
"Limited, for now. I can observe, provide emotional support, and offer some lightweight input on dungeon design. No combat privileges, no admin overrides, no ability to just yank you out of here." She paused, her tails swishing slightly. "Yet. The team is working on expanding my access, but we're having to be careful not to trigger any defensive responses from the system."
"So you're basically a very sophisticated babysitter."
"I prefer 'liaison specialist with fox-themed branding,' but sure." Lisa's tone was dry, but Evan caught the hint of a smile. "The good news is that your physical body is stable and being cared for. The bad news is that we still don't know exactly what happened to you or how to reverse it."
Evan felt a knot of tension he hadn't realized he'd been carrying start to loosen. "Okay, that's... actually really good to hear. I was starting to wonder if I was going to be stuck in here forever, slowly going insane while designing the world's most elaborate haunted village."
"It caught all of us by surprise," Lisa said, her expression shifting to something between fascination and concern. "The Core Weave—the dungeon system—was nowhere near complete when we abandoned the project. We're talking maybe fifteen percent functionality, basic framework at best. But looking at the code now..." She gestured around the village, her white tails swishing with what looked like professional excitement. "It's like looking at the most elaborate, sophisticated part of the entire game system. The AI didn't just finish it—it's still growing, still adding details and subsystems we never even conceived of. If the situation wasn't so tragic, it would be quite exciting from a development standpoint."
"The AI isn't hostile," Lisa continued, her expression becoming more serious. "At least, we don't think it is. It's just... opaque. It responds to our queries, but it doesn't explain its reasoning. Some of the log files we've managed to access read like they were procedurally generated from a fantasy novel rather than actual system documentation."
"So basically, the AI has decided I'm a character in its story rather than a user of its system."
"That's our working theory, yeah." Lisa glanced around the village again, taking in the architectural details with what looked like professional appreciation. "Though I have to say, for someone who's supposedly trapped and panicking, you've done some impressive work. This place is genuinely unsettling in all the right ways."
Evan shrugged, feeling oddly embarrassed by the compliment. "Helps that I'm basically working from an actual horror novel at this point. The system seems to love leaning into the gothic atmosphere."
"Want to show me what you've been working on?" Lisa asked, her tails swishing with what looked like curiosity. "I'd love to see how the encounter system is handling your designs."
Evan found himself relaxing further. Having someone else here—someone who understood the technical side of what he was dealing with—made the whole situation feel less like a nightmare and more like a very strange collaborative project.
"Sure," he said, pulling up the Encounters tab with a gesture. "I was just about to check out the mini-boss. Want to see how the Redfang Alpha handles the full moon treatment?"
Lisa moved to stand beside him as the interface materialized, her fox ears perking up with interest. "Lead the way. I'm curious to see what kind of boss encounter you'd design when you're not worried about player complaints or balance testing."
Evan grinned as he navigated to the Redfang Alpha's entry, the sigil beginning to glow with anticipation. "Fair warning—this floor leans into horror more than I originally planned. One of the mobs is a giant spider covered in translucent egg sacs. I imagine it's like fighting an Easter basket full of nightmares."
"Now I'm definitely interested," Lisa said, settling in beside him as the summoning began. "Show me what you've got."