I see the familiar ceiling - or the lack thereof, shrouded in faint darkness. Cold, hard ground, earthen smell – the usual. I turn my body and arc up. Graham is sitting against the wall away from me reading a spell book. It’s a new spellbook we received from a two-star room we recently conquered. The monsters there if I recall correctly were skeleton centaurs of some kind, or some sort of undead centaur. That and skeleton knights combined. The room was tricky to navigate, as there were visible pitfalls leading to spikes at every square meter, so we had to be very careful. The horse legs or semblance of the monsters navigated with nimbly leaped over the holes effortlessly, so we initially had quite an amount of trouble. We would’ve been in more danger if Graham didn’t have the 1-star earth spell he learned recently, form ground, which can, coincidentally, form an earthen foothold the size of a square meter. All he had to do was cover the surrounding pitfalls, and we were able to fully focus on the monsters and eventually win. Each foothold lasts a good 5 minutes, which is plenty of time for me to bash their skeleton skulls in with Ringarde. It was bloodlessly spectacular, mate.

Jokes aside, the room provided very generous rewards. 3 spell books, the usual potion refillment, a mace that incurs both poison and paralyzation, an ‘official guide to dungeon apparel’ book, some gloves that have elemental resistance, and a box of ingredients - for which I assume would be for alchemy. We received a lot from this room. The three spell books were all fire type, which was great for Graham - not so great for me - and were all 2-star spell books. The first spell was greater flame pulse, which fires a large fire ring in the direction you point it at, and you can control the pulse of the ring and therefore the size. The second spell was suffocating smoke screen, which generates a large cloud of ash that can not only blind the enemy but suffocate them. The only requirement is that they must be living, so no undeads. The third is flamethrower, which is self-explanatory. It’s more useful than fireball since it shoots out more fire in a larger range, but it also consumes a lot more mana, so there are trade-offs. It’s taking Graham a while to learn each spell – he hasn’t learned one yet – but he assures me he can do it. I put my trust in him. That, and my envy, because those are some amazing spells, wow, why can’t I learn fire magic?

The mace is also self-explanatory. It’s a very flexible mace that has a special coating on the blade. One small cut and you’re hit with poison and paralyzation both. The poison only works on living monsters, but the paralyzation actually works on undead monsters too, so that’s interesting. The gloves are also self-explanatory, as in they resist elements such as fire, ice, electricity, etc. if someone, say, wanted to wield a magma sword or something of that nature. Right now, it serves no use to us, but I had Graham wear it anyway just because. The fire spells Graham wields don’t actually hurt the user, but still, just in case, I let Graham wear it. If we ever come across a weapon imbued with magical essence, then these gloves would be rightly needed. In the least, it makes him look more stylish and professional, so that’s a plus.

The box of ingredients was filled with stuff we couldn’t identify. Odd mushrooms, flora, and other such materials. They may be useful in the future, so I had it stored in my satchel bag that I carry with me. At some point, I hope we will run into some ‘official’ apothecary book. I never was the type of person to delve into that area in games, but it might be interesting. It could and will at least fill in the hole that my incapability for magic leaves.

The ‘official guide to dungeon apparel’ book’s the most interesting of them all. It’s an introductory book to the dungeon apparel found in loot chests. It’s apparently ‘official’, which gives the book its creditability, with it also having the same insignia stamped on its cover as present on my adventurer's garb. It details all sorts of varieties of gear ranging from robes to tunics to garbs to face gear like masks and even modern-styled clothing. Some of the apparel was completely new and original – stuff that you don’t see normally in games – that look honestly amazing. It made me question why they weren’t in games beforehand, truthfully. I clicked my tongue once more in response to how much attention to detail this dungeon master, or whoever it is, is paying. Reading it was like reading a fashion magazine. One thing explicitly mentioned was the grading system. Apparel too has a system of ranks, from 1-5. With that knowledge, it’s safe to assume other aspects of the dungeon such as alchemy and maybe blacksmithing if there is range from 1-5 star qualities as well. Considering this dungeon master, there most likely is.

It was a lot to take in, but it was all very useful. Not always will we run into such a "treasure mine", and new additions to our supply as well as new information are always welcome. We need everything we can get to survive. Also, our current apparel is all one-star gear, besides Graham’s slick gloves, including my garb and Graham’s minimalistic robe - which, by the way, also has the dungeon's insignia, as all the dungeon apparel received as loot do.

Besides me, Graham is reading the flamethrower spellbook, which he claimed earlier would be the easiest to start off with. After sitting up, I walk up to him, who’s still immersed in the book. He finally notices my arrival and gets up.

“Hello again,” Graham says. He looks indifferent and focused. As usual, he crosses his arms and tilts his head uncaringly.

“I’m back.” I quickly check my materials to make sure everything’s there. Anything that you don’t necessarily ‘equip’ isn’t "brought" with you when you leave the dungeon. By that, I mean if you leave the dungeon without ‘equipping’ the item, it gets left behind in the dungeon. ‘Equipping’ only means that you have to have in in your current possession, more specifically, that you have to be touching it, or be in contact with it, for it to be "equipped". I’m cautious to check that everything’s still with me when I wake up, so that I didn’t leave anything behind. One time I left my potion belt beside me "unequipped" and upon leaving the dungeon and re-entering, I almost progressed to the next room with Graham leaving it behind. It’s especially dangerous since someone can steal an item you might leave behind while you’re away. “How are you doing with the spell?” I ask.

“I’m making progress.” Graham nods to me and then invests himself in the book. “It’s more complicated than I thought. It’s more about the 'muscle memory' than it is about regular technique. I have to become more proficient with one-star spells before I can really grasp the next level. I’m still looking into things and testing some stuff. Rest assured, I’ll get there eventually. It shouldn’t take long.”

“That’s reassuring. Do you still have the other spellbooks in your satchel?”

Graham nods. “I still do. The other four spell books are in there.” Graham looked up at me. “Are you looking to practice magic again?”

“No, not really. I’m just checking.”

I start off the day, or rather the night, by warming up. Some stretches and some practice swings to get my body into the right condition. I continue with a light exercise and a weapon test. As always, Cheryl and Ringarde perform fantastically.

“Hey, be careful there. If you hit too hard against the wall, you might cave us in.”

“Sorry! I’ll be careful.”

Of course, these dungeon walls, despite looking ordinary, are surprisingly sturdy. I guess this is to prevent room vandalism or something. As far as I know, or we know, you can’t do significant damage to the room floors, ceilings, and walls, but to the other environmental imitations, such as lake biomes and trees, if there are any, we suppose you could. Even though I made that dent with the stone back then, I still didn’t cause any significant damage. I don’t suppose you could at all. We returned back there while we were heading to refill our spring water supply a time previous, and the dent was gone. It must’ve regenerated or something.

After some light training, I engage in the real workout. It’s primarily physical exercises of various kinds. Graham works on his physical body as well but prioritizes his magic training. Normally, that is, he would, actually, but ever since getting those spell books, he’s immersed himself in it, leaving no time for his regular physical training. I leave him to his devices.

An hour passes and we are ready. I take a drink of spring water which we recently refreshed. It is revitalizing as always. Cold water after a hard workout really does well for the body.

“Are you alright there, Ely? You’re sweating puddles over there.” Graham walks up to me with a concerned expression. He’s not nearly as out of breath as me, but I can tell he is sweating quite a bit himself.

“I’m fine… I’m… alright,” I pant heavily.

“Don’t overwork yourself. You always start off the expedition with such a heavy workout. I know you can replenish yourself with water and potions, but still, be careful there.” Graham crosses his arms and tilts his head, trying to hide his worry.

“T…Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.”

After we both cool down, we begin gathering our materials lying about and ready ourselves to progress yet again into the mystery and danger of the dream dungeon.

“You got everything together?” Graham ask.

“Yep. Ready when you are,” I respond.

I sling my satchel over my back and pick up Cheryl.

Suddenly, we hear a ring.

Ding Dong Bing Bong.

It’s the dungeon announcer.

“Hey hey hey hey hey! How are you doing? My, there are a lot fewer people here than there were a couple days ago. I might have to replenish the supply.” It’s the same smooth oration that betrays its notion of deep and contrastingly low tones. “Anyways, it’s that time of day again! Or should I say night, for those currently occupied in the dungeon. As always, it will be personally broadcasted to those not currently present! Congratulations, the third boss room has been conquered! The conqueror is 18-year-old Justus Stone! Please give a round of applause to this dungeon’s first 3-star boss room conqueror!”

Cue the awkward pause. Graham, who’s staring at the pages of the spell book fixed on the ground, begins clapping routinely and unwarily. He looks up at me and, realizing his sudden folly, stops clapping and coughs awkwardly.

“Sorry. It’s a habit at general meetings,” Graham coolly recovers. He tilts his head and draws his attention to the announcement.

“That’s the third boss room in the span of three weeks! What an accomplishment, considering all the current boss room conquerors are so young - under their 20s! Ah, youth! What a time it is to be alive! Such a cherry blossomed time of romance and coming of age… No offense to you older people. You can just lie down and die! Hahaha!”

A deep laugh fills the room, resonating with my body. It sends chills through my spine.

“That was, of course, a joke,” it continues. “I would never encourage death! I’m not sick, nor mental. I am mentally extravagant, though. That is, to say, I'm brilliant, haha! But enough about me. As always, be careful! Death creeps up on the unsuspecting and the weak, so be neither! That’s the best advice I can provide. I am curious to see how things will develop. Do well to entertain me! That might be a little crude, I apologize. Here’s a tip for a certain lawyer and adolescent – be very careful about the next room, or you’ll regret it! Heed this warning. You know who you are.”

What? Is… is that referring to Graham and me?

We stare at each other with wide eyes and confusion mixed with disbelief.

“To the newest conqueror, again, congratulations! 3-star boss loot is something to behold. It’s needless to say that the higher tier rooms you conquer, the better the loot. 4-star rooms are something to absolutely fear upon! And five-star loot is practically cheating! Heehee, I just can't wait for the spicy events occurring in the future! Stay tuned for future updates. As always, goooooood luck!”

The voice subsides. Graham and I continue staring at each other.

“Hey, do you think-?” I vaguely ask.

“There’s a chance,” Mark vaguely responds.

“And if it is-?” I continue.

“That’s irrelevant. We’re always wary. There’s no need to reiterate it.”

“I suppose.”

We never explicitly state the subject, yet our conversation carries through. I guess this is how it is for people on similar wavelengths. Graham and I do think somewhat alike.

“Hey Graham, how’s the report doing on your end?” I ask.

“Oh, I forgot to mention it earlier. I got the results in today.” What I mentioned concerns the news that was broadcasted half a week ago. The news about the cardiac arrest and the immediate brain shut down. Graham and I grimly discussed it, he himself agreed things are odd. He suggested that he could reach out to his friends in the medical business again and inquire the details to confirm it. It’s been two weeks since I’ve met Graham and half a week since the news was made. “Both of them confirmed it.” Graham’s face darkens leaving a solemn expression. “They confirmed it was both cardiac arrest and an immediate brain shut down. No correlation between the victims – all in their sleep. Their cases are all very similar, they noted, and that both causes happened simultaneously. I was thinking about whether if someone died in the dungeon would it be possible to save them if, at first, it’s only cardiac arrest. You studied BLS, correct?”

“Basic Life Support, yes. For victims of cardiac arrest, you engage in Basic Life Support, or BLS, which includes CPR and the use of an AED. Afterwards, ALS, or Advanced Life Support, takes over.”

“Yes, exactly. I was wondering if that would be possible, but since it happens simultaneously with an immediate brain shut down, it seems impossible…”

“Right…”

We both stand there in melancholy.

Back when the news was made, nobody at school around me seemed to talk about it. It's certainly a rising concern of the U.S. and places around the world, but nobody seems to have paid it mind. I don't know if it's because nobody at Rivenburg watches the news, or it's not big enough to be concerned about, or if the season of post-testing is keeping everyone occupied that no-one's really commented on the situation. Do people think they're safe because it's a genetically related thing? There are also the preventive measures... But none of it adds up.

"Graham, what could this mean? Where does the genetics play in? Or the preventative measures mentioned?" I ask.

"That's... where things get tricky. You see, when I inquired the same of the both of them, they both gave me vague answers about specific genetic links and blood type correlation and etc. It seemed as if they didn't really know themselves, and when I took the time to process the information, it appeared to be so. They stated the association didn't give them too much of the specifics as it was really complicated. From an insiders point of view, it might sound rational, but speaking from someone who has no medical experience whatsoever, it sounds broad and especially fishy... It might just be my intuition."

I nod.

"Listen," Graham continues, "going home it occurred to me. It is so painfully obvious that I lament the fact that I didn't think of it beforehand talking with my acquaintances or when I first heard the news."

Graham stares at me.

"It's very simple: most likely, the government is covering up the fact that they have little information - they don't know anything."

I stare wide-eyed at Graham. I grit my teeth. I frown.

"This is... Of course..." I say weakly.

"I have high suspicions they are as freaked out, if not more, about the scenario than we are. There's a chance they don't even know about the dream dungeon's existence, but that's unlikely. We might even know more than them. Even if they do know, I'm sure there's little they can do right now to alleviate the situation. This is as foreign to them as is to us." Graham sighs. "Either way, the government doesn't want to cause widespread panic for something they haven't got a grasp of themselves. The problem is, sooner or later, I assume, everything will unravel and the dungeon will come to light. As for the protective measures - just a front to curb any further concern. Reminds me old Cold War commercials and public service announcements they'd show in class - measures to protect yourself in case of a nuclear attack. How effective is curling up against the wall of the nearest building in protecting yourself from a nuclear weapon? I always thought it interesting that despite three weeks in the dungeon nobody's mentioned anything - the U.S. and the world if other nations are involved. The people directly involved here in the dungeon right now, including us, are too afraid to act. The government or governments might be even more afraid."

Graham bites his lip and with obvious upset he crosses his arms and looks down. Silence pervades.

“Hey, Graham.” I finally intercede.

“Yes, Ely?” Graham coolly responds.

I look at him with resolution, forcing his gaze. “Let’s survive this together. We’re going to become stronger and save others.” I lower my head solemnly, waiting for his response.

Graham looks at me and simply smiles - a small smile. He didn’t say anything afterward, just breathes in and out. He walks ahead and reaches out his hand to open the handles to the door. Right before opening the door, he turns around and meets my gaze; not crossing his arms, not turning his head – simply looking at me honestly without condescendence.

“Of course. That’s needless to say. We’re going to fight and we’re going to win. We’ve made it this far. There’s a long road ahead of us.” Graham turns back onto the door and gazes at the handles. As if realizing his blatant honesty, he quickly shifts back into his professional mood. “Err… There’s no need to state the obvious. Let’s get going. Room 80 awaits.”

“… Right!” I exclaim a bit more motivated than I was previously.

I follow behind him quickly. There’s a good 3-4 feet gap between us. He opens the door carefully, glancing at me in the corners of his eyes. I suddenly remember the odd and specific announcement earlier. As his eyeball shifts back into the room, through the gaps of the doors, what awaits him...

Is nothing. Nothing but silence, anyway.

For a second or two, almost complete silence.

I catch up to him perplexed as I see his expression.

It's a bit hard to describe. Graham's palate of expressions is few and almost indistinguishable. Shock? Or maybe disappointment.

What? Did Graham suddenly remember he forgot to unplug the iron at home? Again?

I sigh, the preceding empowering mood now slightly spoiled.

But then I catch a glimpse of his face, even more confused. I can tell one thing for sure - his eyes are locked on something.

Once I'm close enough to where I'm practically standing behind him, I try peeking cautiously around him to see what he's staring so fixedly towards.

Suddenly he twists, tilting his head back so hurriedly alongside his body, more unnaturally than he's ever done before, his teeth clenching irritatingly. He quickly shoves me abruptly and brusquely. I am caught by surprise, but before that, I can tell, something's wrong -

Absolutely wrong...

But before I can react...

I hear a screeching pierce.

“DON’T!!! GET AWAY!!!”

The first thing I see is a blade zip past me, cutting through the air, blasting my left eardrum. I wince and stumble over. The next thing I see is a glint, a shine. I'm able to make out the contents of the dungeon room finally. It's a simple large rectangular room with a high ceiling. Torches line the walls as per usual, but something else stands out – 5 figures, 4 of which belong to people…

Wait… people?

The voice earlier, it must’ve belonged to one of the people. I can barely make out the head of a person – a defined jawline, a pointed nose, sharp eyes, and a hat with a long, feather sticking out the top with a flame at the tip, burning brightly. Then I can make out more of the figure. In one hand, the man’s holding an elegant compound bow. The other hand is outstretched towards us.

The other non-person figure is large. Maybe about 10-15 feet tall and very wide, its outline defines something cubical, something with very exact edges. The sound of shifting metal can be vaguely heard in the distance, and a strong, evil, red light emits from what I would assume is its eyes.

My eyesight’s unfocused, so I can’t see it too clearly.

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHGGHHHHhhh..!”

Another, even louder yell follows.

Once my eyes focus, I drop my jaw.

What…

What…

What is this..?

Both my eyes fully widen. My arms drop suddenly and helplessly. A puddle of something red slowly reaches my boots.

In the distance is a giant robot monster - the other figure. It’s huge and blocky in structure. It’s not nearly as big as the first boss room’s monster, but it’s still huge and especially wide. Its appendages are seamlessly floating in midair as if it had invisible joints, and huge lumps of metal are floating around it. The room itself is filled with scrap metal, heaps of it. The shine from earlier must’ve been from the metal reflected from the scraps or the monster. Earlier I was mistaken - it has no eyes. In place of it, it has two holes in its large, cubical head, where sharp red light pierces out.

But that’s not what really catches my attention.

There’s an even more pressing issue.

The blood on the floor, the other horrified scream of pain.

In front of me is Graham.

Except something’s wrong.

Something horribly wrong.

What replaced his usual carefree expression is a one of pain and horror. What had initially grasped the door handle is out of sight.

Gone.

That’s right.

In front of me is Graham, who fell over desperately on the floor. The same Graham whom I’ve acquainted myself with over the past two weeks. The same Graham who’s a struggling lawyer with a supportive wife and a staff lack thereof.

The same Graham who’s missing something.

Something vital.

Yes, it's his arm. His left arm,

It's gone.

I freeze in that split second. I mechanically turn my head, as if I were the robot and my neck needed oil of some sort. Behind me, I could barely see the glint of a rugged, black, metal blade fixed to the wall, where the path splits into two horizontal ways. To the end of it is something hanging on its tip.

Graham’s arm is pinned to the wall, his affixed hand holding his dagger.

The dagger drops and hits the ground. The sound - it echoes.

At least I think. My left ear's ringing. I couldn't hear it if it did.