When the rest of the small talk for the interview was over, the privacy barrier fell quickly. Trosana didn’t waste a moment, and Myles couldn’t help but smile. It had gone pretty well in his opinion. He hadn’t screwed up, he answered well, and there wasn’t anything he said that could have insulted his family.

Trosana must have felt the same, since she offered him lunch there as well and paid the bill with a nice tip to boot. He’d chosen a pastry of some kind called a sweet meat panzerotti. It was like a sandwich pie if he really had to describe it, had a flaky, garlic crust seasoned with some salt, garlic, and pepper, and was filled to bursting with a salty, sweet, shaved meat and potatoes. There were subtle hints of pineapple too, and something else… he almost wished that Taste-Test triggered so he could know for sure.

Then again, they probably could afford to have skill suppression stones here for that sort of thing if they could afford so many mana stones, dive appearance or not.

Oh well, at least it was good enough to take his mind off things.

On their way out, she gave him a pat on the shoulder and a practiced but warm smile. “It’s nice to see someone with some spirit about going into deadly game!”

He licked the corner of his lips, feeling a little sauce still there as she turned to see him off. It was a bit embarrassing, but he just grinned it off, running his hand through his hair to straighten it out as the wind blew it sideways again. “I get that from my dad.”

She smiled again, opened her screen, and took down a little more information before speaking. “If you make it to day fifteen inside, you’ll get at least one supporter package from us. I’ll make sure it’s something useful to you.”

“I appreciate it. Anything to help me through it.”

She shrugged her shoulders, letting her scales catch the light like amethyst stones. “It should if we’re lucky. You weren’t even trying to get me to like you, and I’m invested. Check that Influence when you get in there, kid. Might play to your strengths for whatever class you get.”

Myles did his best not to flush and held out his hand. Only Runners could view their stats without the need of another class. It was just another reason why the Grand Dungeons were so closely regulated. “To a good working relationship.”

She took it, grasping him at the wrist, the traditional gesture between Runners. “And you making me plenty of coin, Myles. If we need another interview later, I’ll send word.”

Later?

“You mean inside?”

“Maybe.” With that, she waved him off and turned to walk away. It left Myles with a little more than a bit of confusion at her mystery, but he really didn’t mind all that much. There were bigger cakes to bake.

He had a little over forty-five minutes to get to his designated entrance, and the walk would take most of that. Unfolding the printed map from his pocket, Myles got his bearings, turned to the right, and began the easy stroll down the street.

Without incident and with time to spare, Myles arrived at Gate Seven, and that’s when Myles finally took in everything. It was hard not to standing right next to it.

The walls of the dungeon were always huge. They towered above the city, blocking off every way into the grand dungeon but ten, eleven if you counted the temporal bubble that surrounded it all.

As if the dwarven made walls weren’t enough, every one of the grand dungeons were time-locked behind a chronomancer’s time bubble. No one since the Founding had that kind of power anymore, but the runes that governed its operation wouldn’t allow anything to pass through anything but the gates without rapidly aging to dust. It also had the added benefit of making two days in the grand dungeon only equal one. The Sixth run had taken six years to complete from the outside, and just over thirteen within it.

It really was something to be in awe of.

As he approached the door, he noticed it was empty — a black void leading to nothing that stared through him as he looked through it. The longer he stared, the colder the world around him felt.

It was a bit concerning to say the least.

Pondering whether or not he was supposed to go in, he noticed another of the red circles, larger than the other had been, a few feet in front of him. It wasn’t quite in the gate, but it was in the shadow of it.

Well… it had worked once before.

Shrugging his shoulders, Myles followed suit as he’d done once before and moved into the circle.

As soon as his feet crossed the threshold, his body jerked to a stop, and the world around him changed.

The sounds and sights of the city were gone.

The walls were gone.

The ominous doorway? Gone.

The world had been replaced by four tanned walls, a few tastefully done paintings of forest creatures, and polished oak desk with a metallic inlay to make any librarian jealous.

Was he in someone’s office?

Myles was more than a bit of a surprise, but as he gathered his wits, it really shouldn’t have been. Magic was weird, and teleportation here should have been something he was ready for, if not already used to. He must have been somewhere in the wall or maybe even some extradimensional space.

What was when he turned his attention to where he was in a more local sense. Wiggling his rear and looking at what was below him, Myles found himself in a plush chair. His arms set neatly on a pair of polished wooden rests, and his back relaxed against and equally plush backrest.

The chair wasn’t what bothered him. No, it was a bit more sinister than that.

His body was about as flexible as a stone statue. He tried to do more than wiggle a finger or hip, but failed miserably. So, he tried to use more force to pull himself free until a throat cleared itself for his attention.

He wasn’t alone apparently.

As he looked at the desk a bit harder, he saw his mistake and wanted to smack himself. Well, no wonder he’d missed him. The man barely sat higher than the desk. Though, sat wasn’t the right word. The man was standing in the seat to be seen.

No taller than a child, but aged well past that point, he had a long brown beard, messy brown hair, and wore enough wrinkles to make tree bark look like silk. He wore an obvious smile that subtracted the years though, making the small man a strange mix of elderly and youthful.

“Myles Chase?” The voice was just like his face, old and young mingled together as one. Myles nodded, and the man sighed. “You don’t know how many people have come out of order today. It really is quite an annoyance. Quite an annoyance indeed.”

“And you are?”

The man perked up, standing up and appearing larger than he was when sitting. “Your observer. Levin Pasa, at your service, and I’m here to discuss the final regulations of your qualification round.”

More regulations?

As if reading the question on his face, Levin nodded. “Yes, more regulations. You don’t think just anything can be done, do you? Now, the rules are simple. You die, you’re out.”

Well, wasn’t that just wonderful. You could die in the qualification too.

“You cannot take anything in but currency and food, and anything you find within that is not deemed class essential to your final choice will be transitioned into currency for the full trial. This will help to play to advantages within the first floor as you build a base of operations and at the weekly general store that will move though. The Grand Dungeon has already shown its inclination this Run, so I hope you spend wisely.”

“Showed an inclination?”

Levin snickered. “It’s alive, boy! The grand dungeon decides how to test you. It’s how it gets its entertainment. All part of the accord, Mr. Chase.”

He really wished he had the Lore skill to understand everything. It sounded interesting and frightening at the same time. He nodded though, not wanting to break Levin’s stride.

“Finally, killing other Runner’s on the first floor is forbidden. The dungeon will punish anyone who does so with almost certain death for ruining its fun. Though it is already nearly impossible due to the dungeon’s own magics, it can still happen. We don’t know what the other floors will hold, but it’s looking like there will be at least one hundred floors this Run before the Grand Conflict.”

“How…”

Levin just sighed and waved his concerns off. “The Accords grant us a bit of leeway during the prep period. With more than a year for scrying, exploration, and the like, we can make assumptions based on previous encounters. Now, we are getting a bit off topic, Mr. Chase. At the end of your three trials, you’ll be given the option of a new class or lose your current class and more than likely die. The Trials of Body, Mind, and Spirit will weigh your best options based on your responses to the stimuli. If you want to be a warrior, use force. Want to be a mage? Use your brain. A thief will be stealthy… you get the idea. Now, any questions before you’re sent in?”

Before he was sent in? Would he have to walk through the void gate?

“So that’s it?”

The small man smiled like a dragon ready to devour its prey. “It’s pretty simple, isn’t it?”

Myles didn’t quite know what to say. “This isn’t what I expected.”

“Life rarely is, Mr. Chase.”

The statement was strangely reassuring as he felt his limbs loosen, and he was able to stand again.

Thunk.

“Ow!”

In that moment, he realized how small the room actually was as he bumped his head against the vast looking ceiling. The height was some kind of optical illusion, but despite the tricks, the man was still quite small.

As Myles rubbed the sore spot on his head, Levin took his time walking over to a small switch on the wall. “Head up, Myles. Today begins the rest of your life, no matter how short it may seem.”

There was no warning as the switch was thrown.

The floor fell out from under the chair. Myles cried out only to be silenced as he fell into the void, and the trapdoor shut, cutting his scream off abruptly.

For his part, Levin just rubbed his temples. The screaming was always the worst part.

Oh well.

Pressing a small gemstone on the underside of his desk, Levin ducked into the space reserved for the sitter’s legs and smiled to himself as he spoke. “Next.”