It was nearly half an hour later when Tyrone began to think Botnik had caught on to his bold-faced lie about having a plan.

“Still cooking up that plan huh?” Its voice for once not sounding enthusiastic.

“Like Thanksgiving Dinner.” Tyrone replied.

“Well, you better turn up the heat, I’m out of ammo and the normal mana bullets are quickly eating through my mana reserves.”

Tyrone did have a small inkling of a plan though. He had noticed that whenever he shot a mana dart at the lich, a symbol below the lich was glow and the barrier would flare up to block the shot. So maybe the pedestal he’s standing on is the thing protecting him and not an active spell he’s casting? To test his theory, he tossed his spear at the towering pedestal and grinned when it stabbed deeply into the stone. It was then his inkling of a plan bloomed into something substantial.

“Why are you grinning? You missed.” Botnik interjected. “Y’know pal, I’m starting to think you don’t have anything cooking up.”

“His pedestal.” Tyrone said confidently. “Shoot his pedestal, it’s the only thing protecting him. Once he’s knocked down, I’ll dive in for the kill. In the meantime, I’ll try to clear out some of these undead warriors.”

“Ah, the pedestal is ruined! No wonder the barrier is so durable. It’ll take him a few seconds to create another one if he can, so you better strike at him fast once he’s down. Good plan!”

Tyrone was about to respond but a skeletal knight grabbed his ankle in the attempt to pull him from the van, with a grunt of annoyance Tyrone brought up his hand and blasted the thing in the face with a charged mana dart blast. Or at least he tried to, what happened instead was that he felt a sharp jab, a pain in his head as the first effects of mana exhaustion hit. The undead snarled in pain as a regular mana dart smacked it in the face causing it to let go of his ankles.

Knowing that he was now running near empty on his mana, Tyrone set his jaw as he readied himself to option B.

You have completed the first wave! Second wave commencing...

“You guys want me down so bad?” He flicked his wrist to summon his spear back into his grasp. “Fine, I was itching to try out my new spear skills anyway!”

Tyrone then spoke the words of power to activate the skirmish litany spell, which even though he couldn’t understand the alien language, he could tell it was a prayer of some kind. But a prayer to who? That question would have to wait for another day. After Tyrone was done speaking, a thin orange aura surrounded him like a second layer of skin and then vanished, but he could feel the power still flowing around him. Once that was done, he leapt off the van.

While in the air, Tyrone aimed the spear downward at the horde of undead and activated his second-class ability, soul thrust. He came down like a meteor as the skill empowered the downward thrust. He crashed into one of the more heavily armored undead, its steel chest plate crumbled like a tin can.

The big advantage the horde had was its numbers, but besides that the zombies themselves were quite weak, and their movements were easily predicted. Making them the perfect practice dummies. Using the spear was beginning to feel more fluid and less mechanical, the movements that were downloaded into Tyrone’s brain were beginning to come to him more easily. The spear was beginning to feel like a true extension of himself rather than a tool.

“Wipe that foolish grim from your lips, you fustilarian nit!” The Lich spat down at him. “Your little drone can’t even land a shoot on me! I’ll finish this battle now. My minions, conjoin!”

Tyrone glared up at the lich, who was now waving his staff as he spoke what sounded like pig Latin in reverse. The stone pedestal was still in standing shape, there were only a few gouges in the pillar but not enough to ruin its stability. But the few shots Botnik had landed near the base of the pillar may have weakened enough for Tyrone to finish it off properly.

You: Botnik watch my back! I’m going to charge for the pillar.

He weaved to the side to avoid a rusty cutlass, then spun his spear upward to knock off the skeleton's outstretched limb. As the Lich went on chanting its spell, its minions were beginning to act strangely. They still lurched at Tyrone if he drew too close but most of them were beginning to pile into each other. They were trying to merge and become a far deadlier threat no doubt. That pillar needed to come down quick and Botnik’s shots weren’t doing enough damage as he hoped they would.

Botnik: Rounds loaded! Go now!

Sprinting forward Tyrone crashed through the undead warriors, who had already begun collapsing into each other to amass into some sort of undulating bone pile. As the chanting intensified so did the cracking of bones, the minions were close to constructing a form.

So, for the few that were standing in his path Tyrone made sure to shatter them apart in hopes that’d delay whatever they were trying to construct into. Reaching the base of the pillar, he lunged with his spear.

“Soul thrust!” Tyrone had always thought it’d be cringey, but it was oddly satisfying to shout out the names of your attacks like an anime protagonist. Especially when the attacks landed.

A smile appeared on his face as his spear created a deep gouge in the stone pillar, then a spider web of cracks shot out around it and the whole thing shook violently. The Lich above Tyrone cursed as its spell was interrupted, and the magical energies it was building up spun out of control.

Tyrone was about to strike again but stopped short as he heard Botnik shout a warning. Ducking just in time as a large skeletal hand flew over his head. Turning back, he found himself confronted with a half formed skeletal behemoth. The Lich’s spell from earlier was somehow melding all its minions into one colossal skeletal warrior, but thanks to his interruption it had only managed to form an overly large head, ribcage, and a single arm that it used to crawl forward due to its legs not being formed yet.

Name: Shambling Undead Behemoth. Level: 5

“Ugh, now that’s disturbing.”

Stepping back to make sure he was well out of its reach; Tyrone focused his attention back on the Lich. The only way to for sure end this Instance Dungeon was to defeat the actual boss, not its barely stable giant minion. Tyrone snarled as he saw that the lich was already casting another spell, this one seemed to be aimed at restoring the pillar. Splinters of stone rose from the ground and began to stabilize the wobbling pillar, in no time at all the damage that he’d done was being fixed. Tyrone had an inkling that the lich would be able to fix the pillar but didn’t think it’d be able to do it so quickly.

You: Okay, change of plan! Listen up…

He quickly laid out his plan to Botnik and launched into action before the drone could tell him it wasn’t going to work or not.

Hefting the spear, Tyrone tossed it nearly halfway to its top just within jumping height, then he did just that. He leapt and took hold of the still wobbling weapon, then used the momentum to sort of sling shot himself even higher into the air. Tyrone was just about at eye level with the Lich, its burning eye sockets locked onto him as its jaw hung slack in shock.

“Botnik! Alley oop time!”

At Tyrones words, Botnik zipped to him and before gravity started to pull him towards the ground, he grabbed hold of the floating drone. Botniks little thrusters whined with his weight and wouldn’t be able to hold him for more than a handful of seconds, but thankfully that’s all he needed. Using his mechanized companion as leverage he thrusted himself even higher, left arm raised up as he summoned his spear.

The lich gaped as it looked up at him now high above it, coming down fast as gravity took back control, Tyrone grinned as he readied his spear and angled downward.

“W-wait,” The Lich’s eyes dimmed slightly. “This isn’t right… It’s not fair! You self-righteous fool, this isn’t how things were supposed to go. It is my time now! Mine! My barrier will stop your feeble attempt and then-GAK!”

The Liches force dome flashed to intercept the blow, but with all of Tyrones' weight, the battle litany still active, and a soul thrust for the hell of it; he smashed right through its defenses and crashed down on the whining undead. The snap, crackle, and pop of old dusty bones sent a thrill through him as he felt that the exhausting battle was finally over.

Standing up, Tyrone yanked his spear from the liches decaying skull. Grimacing as it withered away in a dusty pile. Then with a flourish he twirled the spear around and hummed a little victory tune from his favorite RPG.

“Now that’s what I call skull bashing fun!” Botnik hoovered to his side. “Good job, bud! I knew you could do it.”

“Way to ruin the moment,” Tyrone smirked at his companion. “Good work out there, thanks for the boost and air support.”

Botnik spun in the air at the compliment. “You are most welcome, pal! Oh, looks like we’re done here.”

Looking around Tyrone could see that Botnik was right, the entire area around them was starting to shift and reform back into what it used to be before the dungeon sprung up. Within a few minutes they were back standing in the middle of the intersection, not a single trace of the undead to be seen.

“I hope that doesn’t happen to often-Oh!” Tyrone was cut off as a notification blipped into his view.

Instance Dungeon quest completed! Title: A Test of Endurance!

You have received 1500 credits!

You have received bonus XP!

You have received a Title! Check status to view title and its effects.

Due to slaying the dungeon boss you have received a bonus reward!

After reading the last notification streams of light flashed before his eyes and Tyrone's jaw nearly hit the floor as he watched the lights construct something right in front of him. It looked like the light was 3D printing an item out of thin air, once it was done, he quickly grabbed the item before it could fall to the ground.

You have found: Endured Circlet of Mind. Info: A thick band of pure Fey silver that’s been enchanted to empower the wearers fortitude of mind and mana flow. Armor: 1. Effect: +5 to WIS and +15% to Mana Regen.

“Wowzah, pal! Enchanted items that boost attributes like that are incredibly rare!” Botnik’s emoticon face flipped with joy. “You’d easily be able to make thousands of credits selling it on the Auction at the Marketplace! Ka-Ching!”

Looking down at the silver headband, a grin spear on Tyrones lips. Eyes sparkling with avarice, he slipped the enchanted item onto his head. Even though the item was more suited for a mage type class build, he’d still be able to put it to significant use as well. During the fight with the Lich, Tyrone couldn’t use the Mana Dart spell to its better potential, but with this item giving him a boost he’d be better prepared for next time.

“Hm, I’ll think about it. But for now, I think I’ll keep it. Gonna need every edge possible, especially if we run into anymore surprise dungeons.”

“Right you are, pal! Oh! Snazzy title you got there! Take a gander at those effects!”

Calling up his status, and the smile on his face sagged slightly as he read the title info.

New Title acquired! He Who Overcomes (The Overcomer). Info: You have received this unique title due to succeeding in a task that had a less than 25% success chance. Many who see this title besides your name will sense that you are not to be trifled with, though just as many will see it as a challenge. Effect: Chance to Intimidate your foe, no matter their level. +5 to Mental Resistances.

“Ugh, the overcomer?” Tyrone groaned inwardly. “They couldn’t have phrased that any better?”

He would have grumbled more but was thrown off as he heard the chime that was beginning to become the sweetest sound to ever grave his ear drums.

Tra-la-la! You have levelled up! All class attributes have been automatically set. You have 2 unassigned points to set. Use these points within 7 days, or they’ll be automatically assigned randomly.

Grinning ear to ear, Tyrone quickly splits the two free points between his luck and dexterity attributes. He had missed quite a few of his mana dart shots and even though the luck attribute was mysterious on how exactly it worked he figured it’d be better to have a high luck rating than a low one.

“But that’s not all, muchacho! I also leveled up!” Botnik twirled as he let out a trumpeting sound of victory, mimicking the tune Tyrone had hummed earlier.

Tyrone blinked in surprise; he had nearly forgotten that Botnik could level up at all. Apparently now that it was able to participate in the fighting besides just providing light, it was now getting some experience. Eagerly he checked the drone's status and grimaced. Apparently since it was mainly just spraying the crowd of undead with bullets and not taking much of them down, it was only given a few handfuls of experience.

But those few handfuls were enough to bump it from level one all the way to level three, though despite its level increases none of the drones' skills or spells level went up at all. Then again most of his skills are required to be upgraded through purchasing the related module part.

“Ah, that’s nice. Come on, let’s get moving. I want to reach my mom’s apartment before it gets dark.”

“Hey! Why did you frown at my status like that?!” Botnik said as its face literally flipped upside down into a frown. “To put it plainly I am a genetically altered slime that was permanently graphed to a mechanized drone body, so it may take me a while to get strong, but I will bucko! Wait till I hit level five, my innate abilities will kick in and- Hey! Don’t leave me behind! I’m going to get super strong one day, just you wait and see!”

Launching forward in a light jog, which would have been a full-on sprint if Tyrone was in his body before the system body, he trotted down the street and waved at his whining companion.

Along the way to his mother’s apartment, they encountered roadblocks due to the sheer number of abandoned cars in the road and a few scenes of long-lost battles with monsters.

What really bothered Tyrone was the lack of people out on the streets, he’d have thought that he was the last person alive if it wasn’t for the few moments, he’d catch someone peeking at him from behind a window curtain or hear someone call out a warning to him not to step onto their property. As it turns out quite a few people had decided to stay locked up within their own homes rather than take a chance to venture into the new unknown their world was turning into.

You have entered the high-level zone: Downtown Minneapolis! Be wary most creatures that naturally spawn in this area can kill you with little to no effort. You are very under level for this area, seek out the nearest Safe Zone!

Entering downtown, Tyrone knew he’d be entering a still active battleground but he still wasn’t ready for all of the death and destruction that was scattered all around him. On the trek to downtown all of the bodies they come across were either already torn apart by monsters to the point you could barely identify them as human remains or lying off at the corner of Tyrone’s vision so he didn’t have to look directly at them.

But downtown Minneapolis was a true warzone, it wasn't just monsters prowling the streets but also fully decked out warriors from another realm blasting and hacking down any human that stood in their way. These beings wore shining dark green and gold armor with cone-like helmets that had visors which covered their faces, it wasn’t until one of them took off their helm to spit at the feet of a crying little girl that Tyrone saw that they were Elves.

“This isn’t good,” Botnik said in a muted tone. “Those are knights of the Glory Guard!”

“The what?” Tyrone whispered back as he stared at the knight who had taken off his helmet. “Whoa. How are they so pretty?”

They were actually beyond pretty, they looked like what every supermodel would kill for just to get a fraction of their beauty. Skin pale like fresh milk, a chin sharp enough to cut diamonds, large glowing eyes perfectly feathered with dark lashes and shadowed by darker brows, and hair that shined like silken silver as if flowed easily in the wind. They reminded Tyrone of symmetrically perfect sculpted Greek marble statues you’d see in an art museum, except for the elf ears of course.

“I said get up, insect!” The elf hissed at the weeping child.

Both Tyrone and Botnik were hiding behind what used to be a UPS truck but was now just smoldering heap as they spied on the knight who was still glowering down at the little girl. Tyrone was bracing himself to summon his spear and interject on whatever the elf was planning to do to the poor defenseless sobbing child but then three other knights suddenly appeared.

Botnik sent over a scan of the incoming knights' levels and Tyrone groaned inwardly. They were all in their mid-teens and shared the same Glory Knight class. Though Tyrone had been able to beat the lich which was six levels above his own, that was mainly due to it being a glass cannon and his own class being of rare rank which gave him a lot of attribute points. All of the knights were basically over ten levels against his own, he doubted he'd be able to last long against one, not to mention all four of them.

“Yet another creature to add to the herd?” asked one of the newcomers.

“I think not, shield brother.” Said another. “Look over yonder. That primitive device is called a wheelchair, they use them for their handicapped individuals. I doubt this thing can even walk.”

“An easy thing to fix with our advanced magics.”

“Do you truly wish to waste such effort and resources on filthy cattle, brother?” The one without the helmet sighed. “Best to get rid of it now. It’s pathetic mewling annoys me.” Their voices were as smooth as honey, but held a snooty aftertaste to it that made it clear that they deemed all who weren’t them unworthy of attention. Which was solidified by the fact that they hardly glanced down at the whimpering girl right by them.

Botnik: They might look pretty but don’t let that fool you. Those knights are torture loving tyrants! They come to newly connected worlds in pursuit of finding slaves to be their servants and working their asteroid belt mines. We have to get out of here!

“No. I’m not just going to stand here as they slaughter a kid, Botnik!” Tyrone said in a harsh whisper. “Get ready to give me air support and we’ll...”

“Attack!”

Tyrone didn’t even have time to finish his sentence before a group of people leapt from an apartment building across the street, all screaming bloody murder as they charged the sparkling elf knights.

The ragtag group of people were all clad in mix-match armor, it was as if they had clung onto whichever bits of amor they could that provided even a minuscule worth of protection. But though they looked like off brand mad max inspired bandits, their teamwork was something Tyrone was completely awed by.

Their leader was a balding man who looked like he could be a stunt double to Bruce Willis in Die Hard. He wore a tan t-shirt with huge leather pauldrons jerry-rigged to latch on his shoulders, his pants were standard issue army camo pants with had dark iron kneepads. And he wielded a pair of serrated scimitar swords that he swung around with deft skill and glee.

He laughed like a madman as one of the Glory Guards came at him with a blade that shun like a lightsaber, as their weapons clashed it sent out a shower of sparks. The guardsman screamed bloody murder but the beer gutted action hero wannabe just kicked him back with a booted foot, sending the knight to crash into his companion. The balding man then cackled as he activated a skill that caused the air around him to distort and harden.

Name: Joel Vander. Level: 15. Class: Ardent Bladesman

“Armor of the Mighty! Ah ha-ha! How you like that Santa’s little helper?” Joel roared as he clashed his own blades together. “Watch our backs, Sarah! Don’t let these knife eared fucks get the drop on us!”

Even as two of the knights turned to charge at the beer gutted man, he hardly broke a sweat as he clashed blades with the both of them effortlessly.

The woman he’d shouted at had just climbed atop of a light post and was adjusting her aim as she stared down the scope of what looked like a supped-up sniper rifle. She was the only one in the group that was wearing an outfit that matched, and somehow, she managed to keep her police uniform in pristine condition. Her blonde hair was wavy and long, but if it was cut short, she’d look just like Tinkerbelle with her petite frame.

Her weapon burst with bullets and cracked into the ground at the Glory Guard who was standing by the little girl. The first shot hit him dead center in the chest but his armor held as the bullet ricocheted, her other shots were deflected as he pulled out his sword but the barrage of bullets did manage to get him to step away from the girl.

Name: Sarah Mackabee. Level: 9. Class: Arcane Gunslinger

“I told you we’d bump into more of these pasty bastards” She frowned as she pulled out a glowing magazine from thin air and then loaded it into her weapon. “Hey, Barney. You owe me twenty creds.”

“This really isn’t the time for banter, guys!” Cried out what could only be the spellcaster of the group.

The person wore what looked like a normal silken bathrobe but as it caught the sun the dark fabric soaked in the light and colors bloomed all over it like the sheen in an oil spill. This would have been elegant if not for the pair of light blue overalls, and pair of designer slippers.

He held up a gnarled tree branch and chanted a strange jumble of words which sounded in-between gurgling and gnashing his teeth together. But the end result was a dazzling beam of light shooting from the end of his tree branch staff and striking one of the knights, once the beam hit the knight it unfolded into a box of light which trapped the struggling knight within like a mime’s cage.

“That won’t hold him for long! Ife, I could use some help over here!”

Name: Barney Goldman. Level: 11. Class: Aeglean Druid

“I got your back, Barn. And I'm coming in hot!”

The last of the ragtag group was a woman who had the physique of an Amazonian warrior, and her near skin tight body armor hugged her curvy frame perfectly. She had what Tyrone could only call a Frohawk with both sides of her hair shaved close but the top was long and styled like puffy mohawk. Her skin was nearly as dark as his own but had far more markings of previous battles which only somehow made her look even more attractive.

She effortlessly flipped over Barney, withdrawing her sword at the same time. As she landed the knight broke free from his hard light cage, drawing a glowing sword as he shouted bloody murder.

“Fool! Do you seriously dare to stand in the way of the Glory Empire!?” Even as his face twisted with rage, he still looked like he was posing for a vogue magazine cover. “Fine then, come at me you wretched wench!”

The knight barely lifted his weapon up in time to block her blade as she dashed in close, her speed was even hard for Tyrone to keep track of as they engaged in combat. The grin never left the woman’s face as her sword began to glow red hot, so hot in fact Tyrone could had sworn he saw the glory knights begin to warp from the heat.

Name: Ife Boseman. Level: 14. Class: Onkari Blade Burner

The battle ensuing in front Tyrone both excited and also humbled him, he was excited to see other humans had not only survived the apocalypse but were also overcoming it. What humbled him was the fact at how strong everyone else was, he had thought for a moment that he was nearing peak human strength but seeing the feats of nearly superhuman strength, agility, and dexterity before him, he knew that he had a lot of catching up to do.

“One’s getting away!” Barney shouted.

Tyrone had been so focused on the fight he’d nearly forgotten that there had been four knights. Two were still facing off against Joel, who was holding them off easily with Sarah’s sniper as backup. And another was now getting his behind handed to him by Ife. Swiveling his head about, Tyrone almost missed one of the knights running right at him. The knight didn’t seem to have spotted him yet, the elf’s face was panicked and set straight ahead, all he’d have to do was glance a bit to his right and he would’ve seen Tyrone crouching right beside him.

“Sarah, use your...”

“I got him!” Tyrone shouted as he leapt from behind his hiding spot, tackling down the fleeing knight.

“Who the hell is that?” He could hear Barney shout.

Tyrone would have replied, but he was too busy trying to get a proper hold of the now snarling glory knight. Even though his class gave him a good number of attributes per level they weren’t enough to hold down the higher-level scrambling knight, so as they tumbled on the ground the elf easily shrugged off Tyrone’s punches and attempts of holding him down and managed to pin Tyrone to the ground.

The knight’s face twisted into a sneer, but before he could do anything a foot crashed into his face. Once, twice, and then the elf slumped over unconscious. His once beautiful face now a bloody ruin.

Tyrone looked up to see all members of the ragtag group staring down at him, he was about to sit up and thank them for kicking the knight off of him but before he could utter a word a piping hot blade was at his throat.

“Who the hell are you?”