Grey slumped to the wall of the apartment, falling to his feet and leaving a trail of blood on the wall behind him. He unbuckled his armor with shaking fingers, exposing the black wound that marred his chest. It was unnatural, the product of one of Jessica’s Evolutions. A curse. It depleted his mind and his body.

His spear, stained with the blood of monsters, disappeared into his Inventory. The Diamond Key fell out. He wrapped his hand around it and pressed his head into the wall behind him. The desert had shown him pain. He had learned its lessons well.

Use Diamond Key? Y/N

He selected yes, and the Key crumbled, the Golds and Silvers that made it up returning to their Dungeons.

Evolution Gained: Chi Master: F (0/1)- Diamond

One Evolution Point? How could he have two Diamonds at E Rank? The Keys ignored the typical rules. He tried to use the Evolution and found it… useless. It did nothing. He could vaguely sense the Chi around him and stir it into various patterns, but in and of itself, it did little. His sluggish mind slowly connected the pieces.

It was not meant to be used. He had to combine it with another Evolution. Evolve it. His mind flicked between his options. Single Player, Metallurgy, Chi Breathing, Dungeon Walker. Combining typically required two Evolutions at the limit of their current Rank, but he could feel that this Evolution bypassed that.

He willed Chi Breathing and Chi Master together and waited. Nothing. Their energies simply hung there, waiting for another piece. Single Player refused to be it. Metallurgy was fine as is. He bit his lip. He hated rushing decisions, hated not exploring all his options, but Jessica was after him. Her curse handicapped him.

He needed power now. Dungeon Walker slid into place, and a great pressure descended upon his mind. He gritted his teeth.

New Evolution: Dungeon Master: E (0/ 200)- Diamond

Information filled his mind. This was… This was workable. No, it was better than that. This was what he needed. In a way.

At Rank E, Dungeon Master bestowed upon Grey two crucial powers: the ability to manifest a Dungeon’s power within himself through its Key and the ability to release the aura of an ally to any Dungeon monsters. It was unclear to him how these two would manifest, but his mind had already wandered to images of monstrous armies. He also knew the amount of Keys he could use was limited by his Rank. Right now, he had only one slot available. One Key.

His first thought was for the Dungeon of paper-men. He would very much like to understand their powers. He dismissed the idea quickly, however. He needed strength. In his Inventory, a final Gold Key sat.

He withdrew it. On one of its faces, a familiar helmet peered out. The Steel Legion. This was the Key Jessica and the ARA had given him. It was a sign of his sacrifice. He had lost the battle that day, allowed her to outmaneuver him. It was a gambit. If it had not gone perfectly, she would have had the advantage. In fact, she had taken the advantage anyway.

Her Primary Evolution allowed her to dominate the minds of others. He had deduced this after the Steel Legion raid. Jessica tried to shake everyone’s hand, his own especially. At first, he had believed the physical contact was meant to throw him off guard, but there was a strange phenomenon that came after this contact. All who shook her hand ended up with headaches and weakness directly after.

That was the first thing that tipped him off. The second was the Dungeon, or rather, it was her performance in it. She had only buffed certain people. The only thread that ran between the people was that they were all agents that she had shaken hands with. The final straw, however, was the deference everyone showed her. Her uncle was one explanation for it, of course, but Grey sensed there was more to it.

She commanded humans. Grey rolled the Key over his knuckles. He would command monsters. The strength of the Steel Legion would be his own.

He examined the wound on his shoulder. The bullet had passed through him cleanly, only grazing the bone. He had cuts and bruises on top of that, but the shoulder wound was the worst, limiting his mobility and clouding his mind.

No fighting, then. He had to win control of the Steel Legion. His Evolution did not give it to him. Could he control them without fighting?

He made his plans. It was not a time for force. It was a time for diplomacy. For deals.

His head leaned back against the wall behind him. He suppressed a yawn. He could…

Grey fell asleep.

---

The tear in space was an odd thing. It was a void, a swirling doorway of black and purple that said it was beyond man. It was not a thing to be understood or questioned, only observed. Challenging it was one thing. Conquering it was impossible. It was alien. It was a part of nature. It was simply there.

It would be Grey’s. He watched it from a faraway window. His armor- previously made of chitin and riddled with holes- was now steel. It spread across his frame, making him almost seem more than he was. It had no designs or sharp edges, only the menace that came from pure utility. It was not a piece that screamed ceremony or royalty. Instead, the armor suggested only death- and a quick one at that.

Which is to say it was fake. Grey knew not how to make armor, and having Metallurgy did not suddenly change that. It had taken him hours in the mirror to craft something that looked this good and allowed him to move. That was fine, however. He was not here to fight. He was here to conquer. The latter could be achieved without the former.

In one gauntleted hand, he rolled a chess piece. In the other, he clutched a spear. It was made from the remains of his old one, its previous tip replaced by one of steel. Carrying an entirely metal spear was now beyond him, especially without Chi Breathing. Jessica’s curse weighed heavily on his limbs.

Outmaneuvered. Outnumbered. It was time for the king to move, to make the game happen instead of happen to him. Grey rose to his feet, checked the surrounding buildings, and stepped into the tear in the world.

He did not enter the castle hall as he expected. Instead, Grey stepped into a room with a tall, arched ceiling. Marble pillars rose on either side of him, and a chisel had brought to life the visages of a people that seemed almost human along their surface. They had sharp, pointed ears and eyes much wider than that of a human. They had no hair, but their features seemed handsome. Beyond the pillars, arched windows ran along either side of the hall.

At the very end of the chamber, a suit of armor stood. It was smaller than a Tribune, but its armor was more grand. Its back was to him as it stared at the scene of battle etched directly into the stone wall. The golden image of a sword plunged through the center of a crown rested on the back of its black armor.

When Grey stepped forward, the suit turned to him with movements oddly silent. “We were not always confined to our armor,” it said in a harsh voice that carried throughout the room. A gauntleted hand waved at a marble pillar. “We were not so different from you humans. Then we failed. In turn, the Archons cursed us, trapped us forever in steel. It is our curse.

“We have been called the iron-clad. You know us as the Steel Legion. Our true name remains buried in a world long dead. I will spare you that story, however. You smell of curse as well, so tell me, boy. Tell me your story.”

Grey’s mind ran over a dozen scenarios. He opened his mouth. The steel hand came up.

“I know why you are here. I smell it upon you. I ask for your story, nevertheless.”

A moment passed, and Grey observed the steel suit in silence. It was not so often he was put on the back foot. He nodded slowly.

“The Archons placed me in a world named the Tutorial. I was alone,” Grey clenched his jaw, though in truth, the sway of his memories came and went at the moment. “I fought. Killed. Died. The cycle repeated for a year.” He then told the armor of his battle with Jessica and the eventual result.

“And you expect my soldiers to be your solution? You will sacrifice my own on your altar?” The armor moved, and then it was before him, close enough for him to see two burning sapphires resting in the darkness of its helm. “We have fought once, you and I. My form was different from this. Limited and made more monstrous, but it was I.

“Your fighting is shoddy. You are a butcher, a tool meant to slay beasts and little else. It shames me that you can even hold our power, that you smell of the emperor. A part of me wishes you dead.”

Grey recognized that the armor in front of him was the same being he had fought in this Dungeon previously. It was the Legate. He recognized, too, that it was cunning. This was a negotiation, nothing else.

“The Steel Legion,” Grey said, staring at a pillar. All of the room’s art showed battle. These people were like the Spartans. War was important to them. Perhaps it was everything to them. “Do you and your people wish to stay within this Dungeon forever? To be building blocks for my own people, steps on our way to power?

“I can give you conquest. War. Victory.” He waved a hand at the wall the armored figure had stared so intently at. “The Rank of your Dungeon will not increase from inaction. From waiting.”

A steel finger prodded into his breastplate. “Your words are stronger than your body. What you stand in now is the High Keep. In my time, it was the place where the children of the Great Houses took their exams to decide who would become the next emperor. I don’t have much power here, not anymore, but I have enough to block your own. You want to draw on our power? You will have to earn it. As we did. The trial will decide if you’re worthy of our power. I will decide if you are worthy of our cooperation.”

The armor gestured at a door on one side of the room and walked back to the chiseled wall. It settled into immobility. Grey glanced at the door.

“And if I fail the challenge?”

“It is only the first room. You will not die. Failure is not the problem. Not learning is.”

No. He was no idiot to rush headfirst into challenges, and neither was he in a state to fight. He needed healing and a plan. His build was no longer viable, not as it was. Jessica’s curse reduced his physical output by what he calculated to be twenty percent. He no longer had Chi Breathing to make up the difference.

Grey’s hand withdrew the chess piece from his inventory once more. The king didn’t fight. It commanded. He was not simply a king, however. He had no desire to be the weakest link, nor did he see a future that had him raining death upon enemies from a distance.

His mind recalled the paper-men who used runes on their flesh to empower their movements. Along with it came other ideas. Yes, this was salvageable.

The fault was in not believing that this was a game. It was, and like all things, it could be cheated. Grey envisioned a stat sheet. Some had great physical strength. Others had agility. The only thing Grey had ever had was intelligence. Leaning into physical strength was a mistake from the start.

Perhaps he had to thank Jessica. His path could now become optimal. He had promised her dominion. It was time to live up to such words.

Despite himself, he smiled. It was a small thing, no more than a slight upturn of the corner of his mouth, but it was there. He took himself too seriously, he knew. Perhaps he was even deluded. He decided that he would quite like to find out. He made a decision.

He walked to the challenge’s door. He was not a fool, but research was the basis of any plan. He had first to see his goal. Achieving it would come next.

The room was much like the one before, but instead of pillars or great statues, there was only empty checkered floor. In the Legate’s place, another suit of armor stood. It was short and squat, carrying a blunted steel sword in place of a true blade.

Its voice rang out in the room. “Welcome, young sir! I will be your first examiner. Ready yourself. You may only pass once you have defeated me, and you may only gain our ability if you defeat the fifth challenge.”

Ability? Grey readied his spear, but the suit of armor moved quickly. He blocked its blade with the haft of his spear and tried to sidestep. Another blow came, faster than he expected. Faster than he could react. It stung his leg.

“Point to me,” the suit sang. Its blade flickered in the lantern light, striking once, twice, a third time.

Grey blocked, stumbled, and took the last blow on the arm. He was slow. He tried to flick his spear out, but the sword seemed to only increase his speed. It hit his leg in the same place as before, then his arm again, and finally his head, blackening his vision. The point rested at his throat.

“Challenge failed.”

Grey stood and rubbed his throat. He had learned much. A battle plan started to develop in his mind.

“I will be back,” he said over his shoulder, walking from the room.