No cages this time.
No swamp water.
No lava.
Just stone.
Cold, damp stone.
They lay at the bottom of a pit, walls slick with moss, the ceiling lost in shadows. Water dripped somewhere in the dark, each plink echoing like a countdown. A faint draft hissed from a tunnel above, promising freedom — or another death.
The crystal pulsed smugly:
Attempt: 1. Welcome to the Cave.
Harlada squinted upward. “Okay… not cages. This is new. Creepy, but new.”
Leo straightened his glasses, though they were cracked in three places. “Progression detected. Tutorial parameters terminated. We are… level two.”
Bert grinned, slapping mud off his chest. “If level one was just warm-up, then that means we’re basically pros now.”
The ground trembled.
“…That’s not us, right?” Harlada whispered.
“Unclear,” Leo muttered.
Bert cupped his ear. “Sounds like applause.”
“It’s not applause,” Leo hissed.
The rumble grew louder. Closer.
They all turned toward the tunnel mouth across the pit.
A shadow swelled.
“Oh,” Harlada said. “It’s a rock.”
The boulder filled the tunnel, roaring down like an avalanche.
They screamed together.
Then it flattened them.
***
Attempt: 2.
They woke in the pit again, groaning.
Harlada rubbed her face. “That was unfair.”
Leo scribbled into his half-burnt notebook. “Correction: highly predictable. Warning tremors, auditory cues, visible shadow. We simply… debated too long.”
Bert spat grit. “Debated? We were strategizing.”
The rumble started again.
“STRATEGIZE FASTER!” Harlada shrieked.
This time they scrambled for the walls. Bert boosted Harlada up, shoving her by the boots until she clutched the ledge. Leo tried to follow, but slipped halfway, dangling like laundry in the breeze.
The boulder roared closer.
“HELP!” Leo squealed.
Harlada stretched for him. Bert grunted, hauling with everything he had. But the crystal pulsed coldly:
Warning: All survive, or none survive.
The boulder slammed through.
Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.
***
Attempt: 3.
They reappeared in the pit, drenched in grit and despair.
“This system is rigged,” Harlada muttered.
“Group survival enforced,” Leo agreed grimly. “A co-op mechanic. Highly punitive.”
Bert cracked his knuckles. “Fine. I’ll brute force it.”
The rumble began again.
Bert roared, grabbing both companions under his arms. “HOLD ON!”
He hurled Harlada upward. She flailed, but landed on the ledge. He chucked Leo next, like a sack of turnips. Leo squeaked, scrambled, and rolled over the edge.
Then Bert leapt. Fingers scrabbled. Harlada and Leo both grabbed him, hauling with desperate strength. The boulder thundered past beneath them, smashing harmlessly through the pit.
For the first time, they stood together on solid ground.
Breathless. Muddy. Alive.
They stared at one another.
“Only two deaths,” Harlada said at last.
Leo nodded solemnly. “Statistically impressive.”
Bert flexed proudly. “Told you. Professionals.”
The crystal pulsed smugly:
Achievement Unlocked: Overconfidence. Reward: None.
***
A pedestal rose from the stone, glowing faintly. Upon it sat a pair of battered leather boots, damp with cave moss.
The crystal scrolled:
Reward Generated: Boots (Unidentified).
They leaned in.
“Unidentified,” Leo murmured. “We should test carefully. Examine their aura, verify enchantments, assess statistical—”
Bert was already lacing them on. “They’re boots. Identified.”
The crystal pulsed:
Achievement Unlocked: Reckless Footwear. Reward: None.
The boots squeaked loudly with each step. That was all.
The sound echoed through the cavern like the laughter of very wet shoes.
Harlada covered her face. “We’re doomed.”
Leo winced at the squeak. “Statistically, doomed.”
Bert stomped proudly. “Statistically stylish.”
***
The crystal screen blinked, words scrolling in smug lines:
Help Screen Update:
- Bronze Door: No restrictions. Unlimited deaths.
- Silver Door: ≤5 Deaths.
- Gold Door: Zero Deaths.
All three froze.
Leo’s voice shook. “We’ve already died… three times.”
Harlada groaned. “So… bronze. Again.”
Bert stomped his squeaky boots with pride. “Wrong. This time, we’re professionals. No more deaths.”
The boots squeaked in perfect mockery.
***
The far wall rumbled. Three new doors rose, heavier than any before. Iron bands wrapped their frames. The runes glowed steadily, pulsing with hunger.
The first was carved with a curved tail, droplets of venom etched into stone. From within came the clicking rhythm of countless claws.
The second bore wide, jagged wings, shadows flapping across the cracks. From behind it shrieked the echo of a thousand bats.
The third showed twisted, hunched humanoids, their jagged teeth grinning. The stench of wet fur and unwashed bodies spilled through.
The crystal pulsed:
Choose Wisely. The Dimension of Scorpions. The Dimension of Bats. The Dimension of Troglodytes. Only one path advances.
The adventurers stared.
Bert grinned. “Not bats. Bats are just rats with wings.”
Harlada muttered, “Not scorpions. Poison is worse than wings.”
Leo adjusted his glasses, voice firm. “Troglodytes. Primitive. Predictable. Statistically optimal.”
The doors pulsed, waiting.