I stepped out of the portal into a world enveloped by heavy banks of smog and was immediately assaulted by a barrage of Game messages.

You have entered sector 18,240 of the Forever Kingdom, a closed and unclaimed sector. You are the first player ever to have visited this sector!

Congratulations, Michael! You have accomplished the feat: Pioneer of New Realms! Requirement: be the first player to enter an unexplored sector. You have been awarded the trait: Budding Explorer.

This rare trait is normally reserved for rank 4 rangers and grants you knowledge of all key locations in any sector you are the first to discover, automatically adding them to your Log.

Analyzing key locations in sector 18, 240…

Nether portal location 1, entrance to the Guardian Tower… added to your Log.

Nether portal location 2, entrance to Draven’s Reach… added to your Log.

Safe zone location…. cannot be established.

Sector 18, 240 is under assault by the nether and is in danger of being pulled into the Nethersphere!

A young void tree has taken root in the sector, establishing a permanent ley line to the Nethersphere. The region is being polluted with free-floating nether. Until the void tree is destroyed, the safe zone will not form and the nether toxicity in the sector will continue to rise.

Warning: You have entered the nether! The nether toxicity at your current location is at tier 2. You are unprotected. Your health, psi, stamina, and mana are degenerating at a rate of 15% per minute.

Bloody hell.

Of all the places to end up, why did it have to be the nether? The urge to verbally vent my frustration was great, but somehow, I restrained myself and remained tight-lipped.

And you’re not in the nether, not really.

That was true enough. If the Game message was to be believed, the sector hadn’t fallen yet. It only teetered on the edge of falling.

Biting back my disappointment, I dropped into hiding, cloaking myself in the mists. The portal was still at my back, and I could retreat at any time. In fact, the temptation to do just that was strong, but I fought back the impulse.

I had about six minutes before leaving became necessary. And in the interim, some exploration was warranted.

Turning my attention inwards, I scanned the Game alerts again. The message about the feat I’d accomplished was intriguing and explained why the gnomes had not mentioned the gateway.

I was the first player—ever—to venture into this sector or, for that matter, to find the portal!

Extraordinary as that sounded, I had no trouble believing it. It had taken me nearly five months of wandering the tundra and the help of the wolves to locate the hidden portal.

If only the sector wasn’t imperiled by the nether.

I closed the Game messages. While the other information they contained—especially with regards to the void tree and safe zone—sounded equally intriguing, I would have to ponder upon it later. Right now, I had to focus on what lay before me. Rotating my head slowly from left to right, I surveyed the area.

I couldn’t see much.

The air was hazy with smog, and beyond a few yards everything was a wall of white. In fact, my surroundings were frighteningly similar to the rift I’d entered with Simone’s party, and if not for the Game messages, I would’ve believed I was in the Nethersphere again.

I understood the reason for the pack’s fear now, too.

Recalling what Moonshadow had told me about the effect of the nether’s toxins on non-players, I knew any wolf that had entered the portal would’ve ended up fatally ill.

Just like they had, I thought, my gaze dropping to the ground. Two leopard corpses lay just without my line of sight. Both bodies were pockmarked, shrunken, and covered with ugly sores. It looked like they had died painfully, and I didn’t blame Snow and the others for not wanting to—

Pebbles crunched.

I froze.

The sound had been soft, barely audible, but I was certain something was moving up ahead. Unfurling my mindsight, I expanded my awareness.

Six dark minds sprang into view.

I swallowed. Stygians. Has to be.

Reaching out, I analyzed the closest—a creature about fifteen yards away.

The target is a level 158 stygian shambling horror.

Urgh. The creature was too strong to take on, not alone, and without nether protections or a safe zone. Maybe its fellows aren’t as strong. Reaching out to the next creature, I analyzed it too.

You have failed a Perception check and are unable to analyze your target. Your analyze attempt has been detected!

Damnation!

A failed analyze attempt could mean only one of two things: the creature ahead possessed deception—improbable—or it was over level two hundred—a disturbing but more distinct possibility.

Hard on the heels of my failure, an angry shriek shattered the silence.

A hostile entity has detected you! You are no longer hidden.

I didn’t hesitate. It was time to flee. Throwing myself backward, I fell into the gateway again.

Transfer through portal commencing…

…

…

Transfer halted! A second entity has entered the portal. Analyzing entity…

…

…

The entity has been identified as a nether creature and has been denied access. Resuming your transfer…

…

…

Passage completed!

Leaving 18,240 of the Forever Kingdom. Entering the Endless Dungeon.

~~~

You have entered sector 107 of the Endless Dungeon. This sector is level 3 of 5 of the Guardian Tower.

Reeling in shock, I staggered back from the portal. Whatever monster I’d roused had attempted to follow me through.

Bless the Adjudicator for stopping it!

A shape blurred through the air and, hitting me in the chest, bowled me over.

It was Snow. Keeping me pinned down, the white wolf inspected me minutely. Around us, I sensed the rest of the pack gathering. In their minds, I sensed worry and relief. I felt no small measure of both myself.

Reaching up, I tried to gently push Snow away. “Told you, I’d be back,” I said, laughing as the last vestiges of my fear and adrenaline faded.

The pack alpha stared at me for a second longer. Then, finally satisfied with whatever he saw, he stepped off and let me up.

I rose smoothly back to my feet and turned to face the portal. Even nether-infested, the sector beyond was fascinating. But it wasn’t a region I was equipped to explore—yet.

If I ever get out of here, perhaps, I’ll come back one day.

Now, though, it was time to resume my search for the next level. Returning to the sled, I picked up the ropes, and with wolves rushing about me, tugged it into motion.

~~~

More weeks went by, and slowly any hope I ever had of escaping the sector eroded.

The pack kept me going, though, and despite my loss of hope, my mind remained free of darkness. Roaming the icy plains until the end of my days with one hundred and sixteen wolves did not seem such a bad fate, after all.

One day, that number became one hundred and twenty.

I was putting the finishing touches on my latest snow cone when a bitten-off yelp caught my attention. Pausing, I listened intently for a moment, but when no other sounds of distress followed, I shrugged and returned to work.

Just young wolves playing, I decided.

The spire complete, I scrambled down its side and pulled out a folded piece of cured leather from one of my pockets. Unrolling the parchment on the ground, I wrote down the snow cone’s number using a pen cunningly made from bone, sinew, and blood.

Since leaving the portal, I’d been carefully mapping the way back. If I ever needed to return to the gateway, I could do so by following the snow cones whose numbers I’d recorded. That was the theory anyway.

Returning the parchment to my pocket, I rose to my feet.

A muted growl sounded. It was quickly followed by a warning howl. I frowned. That sounds like a fight in the making.

In-fighting amongst the pack was rare. Life in the tundra was harsh enough as it was, but occasionally there was a battle for dominance, or two wolves would rub each other the wrong way, especially after an influx of newcomers.

But the pack hadn’t had any new recruits in weeks—which either meant we’d left the region they typically spawned in, or the Adjudicator had stopped replenishing their numbers.

I favored the latter explanation. After all, the Game had to set an upper limit on the number of dungeon denizens, and with so few wolves dying these days, it was no wonder the Adjudicator rarely brought more of them into the sector.

I had spent many hours wondering about the origin of the arctic wolves—and for that matter, all the sector’s denizens. Where did they come from? And how had the Game brought them here?

All the wolves had memories of a time before the tundra, but it was beyond any of them to explain where they had lived or how the Game had transported them here. And while knowing was not especially important, speculating about it was a good way to pass the time.

Another growl cut through my musings.

Setting down my snow shovel—made from bone, what else?—I moved towards the ruckus. Usually, I tried not to interfere, but this time I’d recognized the growl: it was Snow.

In all the time I’d been with the pack, the white wolf had never been challenged for his position, and the fact that he was being now, was cause enough for investigation.

Weaving through the pack—they’d all congregated around Snow and his challenger—I shoved my way to the fore, intent on ending the fight before it began.

But I stopped short when I reached Snow’s side. The pack alpha was not facing off against another male.

He was in a stare-down with his mate, Star.

The white wolf was trying to edge past the female, but she was having none of it, even going so far as to nip at him when he got too close. I frowned. Now what has Snow done to anger her? I’d never seen the two quarrel before.

Movement behind Star attracted my eye. What I’d first taken for a smear of dirt in the snow was not.

It was a wolf pup. Four wolf pups.

“Ah,” I murmured, finally realizing what was going on. “Congratulations, both of you.”

Sadly, given the pack’s numbers and my own busy days, I often lost track of the individual wolves—except Snow who often sought me out—and I hadn’t known Star was pregnant.

I took a step closer. Star’s head jerked in my direction and her gaze met mine for a moment before lowering submissively.

I showed Star my empty palms as I inched closer. “I’m not going to hurt them,” I assured the worried mother. I could feel the waves of concern rolling of Snow, too, and I didn’t think it was for me or himself.

Star tolerated my approach—barely.

Reaching the pups, I knelt in the snow before them. The four huddled together for warmth, but still shivered uncontrollably. As I suspected, they were not doing well. The open tundra was too cold for the tiny creatures, what with their thin gray coats providing scant protection.

Snow’s head appeared over my shoulder, a whine deep in his throat. “We’ll save them,” I assured him, not letting him sense my own fear. The four were already in a bad way and urgently needed warmth.

I turned to Star, who appeared on my other side. “I’m going to pick them up.”

Reluctantly, she consented.

Opening my fur overcoat, I picked up the smallest of the pups. He mewled in protest and tried to scratch me as I snatched him away from his meager source of warmth.

“Easy there, fighter,” I murmured as I brought him to my chest. Sensing my body heat, the pup stopped trying to escape and pressed close to me.

Gathering up the remaining pups, I closed my overcoat and rose to my feet. Then, with the entire pack trailing me, I jogged to the sled and the heaps of skins stored there.

Leaving Star, Snow, and the four pups huddling beneath the piles of furs, I got to building.

It was time to construct a den.