Test? What the hell? In every other RPG I’ve played, you just go up to the next level once you’ve amassed enough experience points.

I glanced at Stephen and Sonja. I’d been so focused on my Character Stats that I didn’t realize we had entered an enormous cavern. It reminded me of when Debra and I took Jack to Mammoth Caves in Kentucky. Only this cavern wasn’t aglow with electric lights or provided a metal walkway to traverse the treacherous ground. The air here was markedly more humid, the torches couldn’t hope to illuminate the ceiling that was dozens of feet above our heads, and the gray, slimy stalagmites that we weaved through promised to make our journey even slower.

I wanted to ask them about the Rank test. Would it be trial by combat or a multiple-choice quiz? Would I be transported to an arena or a classroom? Could they help me, or did I have to do it on my own?

Make. A. Decision.

Like I’ve said many times, my default personality at that time was caution, and here I was playing a character that wanted me to act. The conflict between my two urges—caution versus action—was starting to wear me down. Could I reconcile them, or was I meant to give in to one or the other?

MAKE…A…DECISION!

Stephen, Sonja, and even Constantine seemed to have gone in 100% with their characters. If I were to survive in this place, I would have to do the same.

Fine, Mace. You win.

I tapped “Yes, now” and waited for my fate.

The pop-up disappeared, and then a new one appeared:

The test begins now.

And then it slowly faded from my forearm.

I scanned the cavern nervously, practically holding my breath as I waited for some kind of monster to ambush us. I transferred my torch to my left hand and drew my Ancestral Longsword. The time for screwing around with my Character Stats was over, and the test of survival had begun. Mace was ready. I was ready.

We continued weaving around the stalagmites in the damp cavern, our footfalls making little scratching noises on the uneven ground.

Okay, test, I thought, I’m ready.

I searched for threats on the ground and above us. Stephen and Sonja did the same, but nothing jumped out at us, nor did we hear anything moving in the quiet.

Any time now, test…

For me, this was the worst part. I knew something would happen, but it was taking its damn sweet time to make itself known. I found that once battle commenced, my fear evaporated for the most part, and I just acted. Pretty much how I had operated in my cop days. Mace hated waiting, I could tell. That was the one thing where we were in total sync.

It didn’t help that I could swear something was watching us with hungry eyes. I didn’t see anything flitting about in the darkness or hiding behind the rocks and stalagmites, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that we were being hunted. Sometimes I’d hear a whisper. I’d stop when I heard it, but the whisper would stop too. Were my comrades and I making the whispering sound with our footfalls? I wasn’t sure. I was sure that I hadn’t felt this way any other time in the dungeon; I didn’t know if these things were real or just my anxiety over the mystery test.

Sonja and Stephen stopped ahead of me. About thirty feet ahead, just inside the radius of their torchlight, stood two large stones on either side of the path, about five feet apart. They were of similar size and height—about four feet wide by five feet high. Thick ropes coiled around each one, almost covering their lengths. As we got closer, I noticed the ropes were about the thickness of my arm, but they looked old and frayed. I soon realized what the ropes were for.

We arrived at the stones and looked out onto a long rope bridge with irregularly shaped wooden slats. The bridge was about four feet wide and stretched off into the darkness beyond our torchlight. The gorge below the bridge was fifty feet deep, and it looked filled with sharp rocks and stalagmites. I doubted anyone would survive a fall into that.

“Let me guess,” I said, noticing the frowns on both Sonja and Stephen, “this is new.”

“I miss our stone bridges,” Sonja said wistfully.

“This makes no sense!” Stephen cried. “Where did they get the wood to build this? And the rope? They would’ve had to haul these supplies over the bottomless pit!”

“A rope bridge with wood slats,” I said evenly. “We’re playing RPG characters, and that’s what makes no sense to you?”

“We have to cross it,” Sonja said. “The river and Constantine are that way. Not to mention the entrance to Level Two.”

“This thing won’t hold all of us,” Stephen grumbled, inspecting the first twenty feet or so under the light of his torch. I had to admit that the wooden slats looked old, and some were missing.

Was this the beginning of my test?

“I’ll go first,” I said. “If it can hold me with my armor, gear, and muscle mass, it’ll hold you two.”

Stephen nodded quickly. “Agreed. You go first.” I gave him a suspicious look, but he said, “What? A stopped clock is right twice a day.”

“Thanks,” I said and then pushed past him.

“Watch your step,” Sonja said, grinning.

I grinned back. Her humor didn’t rub me the wrong way like Stephen’s.

When I got to the edge of the bridge, I sheathed my sword, held my torch up, and put a tentative toe onto the first wooden slat. I pressed down as I grabbed the rope with my free hand to steady myself. The slat seemed to take my weight, so I took another step. The next slat supported me as well.

I kept going like this, one slat at a time, stepping over spots where the slats had broken, and there was nothing between me and the sharp rocks below. The rope creaked and groaned with my weight and swayed just enough to keep my heart thundering in my chest. Now and then, I put my weight down onto a slat, and I’d hear a crack. I’d pull my foot back, and then my heart would restart. I’d skipped over that slat and try the next one.

I’d gone about fifty feet and still couldn’t see the other side of the bridge. I turned and still saw Sonja and Stephen watching me with their torches held high. If I ran into trouble or fell through the bridge, there was nothing they could do to help me. But just knowing they were back there seemed to give me courage.

I turned back around.

A pale, gray human about my size stood less than three feet away from me. He was completely bald, had glowing yellow eyes with horizontal slits for pupils, and his mouth was split open in a wide grin that held row upon row of shark teeth.

“Hello, meat,” he rasped.

Before I could reach for my sword, he grappled me, and with an insane giggle, he pulled me off the bridge.