“...And that’s how your journey into Nyarlea would transpire,” Leiana concluded, closing the screen with a few quick keystrokes.

Wait, what? What the hell had we just watched? “That was catgirl world?”

“Correct.” Leiana folded her hands on the desk. “I must say, you most certainly looked as if you could successfully battle the metal demon upon reaching Level 10.”

“Jesus. I almost died. Again. Four or five times,” I grumbled. “And that was after getting better gear.”

“This particular simulation was the one where you continued to live. Our systems simultaneously calculated 13,667 simulations of your experiences in Nyarlea. In every other one, you perished.”

Holy shit. “Uh…huh.” I blinked. “I thought I told you just to send me?”

“You did, Matt.” She gave me a solemn nod. “However, the dangers and tribulations are so statistically high that I believed showing you a simulation of your time spent among them would behoove you.”

“Why did your simulation jump to other people? Most of the time, I wasn’t in those.” I frowned, stretching my incorporeal legs away from my chair. “Like, what do, erm—” I struggled to remember their names. “The guys.”

“Tristan and Cailu?” Leiana supplied.

“Yeah, them. What do they have to do with me and the catgirls?”

“All threads of a world are important to its fabric.”

I squirmed a bit in my seat. “Even their sex lives?” In Leiana’s simulation, I’d personally seen plenty of action with catgirls. But, man, watching another guy go at it just wasn’t my thing.

“The simulation is quite detailed.” A tiny smile toyed at the corners of her lips. “Besides, I found ample enjoyment in our time together.”

I’m sure you did. “Hang on. How long have we been watching this?” Time here seemed nonexistent. I didn’t feel the nagging pull seeking productivity—I was perfectly content in the manager’s office.

“Let’s see.” Leiana’s fingers danced across her desk. “In Earth time, it has been one year, seven months, seven days, and three hours.”

“What? We’ve been watching a simulation for almost two years?”

“That is correct.”

I stared at her while I let her words sink in. Two years. Two years of near-death experiences, heartbreak, and struggling to keep my head above water in the name of Nyarlea; the catgirl world. Thirteen thousand opportunities to die. Maybe she was right. Maybe this was way out of my league.

“Alright. Fine.” I shrugged. Something new couldn’t hurt. “I’ll be a dungeon.”

“That is an excellent choice.” The screens lit up with foreign glyphs and expansive graphs. “Your necessary tools will be available to you upon your arrival.”

As a dungeon? “Tools?”

“Yes.” She reached for one of the holographic screens nearest her and pressed her palm against it as if it had a tangible form. The image shot forward, enveloping me in a blue haze. “For your valor, Matthew Kelmer.”

For the second time that day, the world went dark.

Now Loading…

Life as a dungeon was weird enough. Life as a dungeon on another planet took a lot more getting used to.

For starters, it took weeks before I understood what the hell my purpose was. My new form as a rocky cavern was underwhelming, to say the least. A few wandering critters and beings covered from tip to toe in purple fur chanced to check inside but left when they realized there wasn’t much to see. Let me tell you, it was strange as hell feeling them walk inside me.

But then I started hearing the whispers. Like idle thoughts from other dungeons, challenging travelers to come search for their treasure and try to make it out alive.

So, is my goal to trap them in or let them out? I wondered.

A bit of both, an undistinctive thought replied.

The trapped ones give you Skills and Experience, another chimed in. Trap too many, and they’ll stop trying.

I could only assume “they” referred to passing adventurers. So, don’t kill all the residents. Seemed easy enough.

Though, what the dungeon hive-mind failed to explain was that the treasure needed to come off of whatever I trapped. No one seemed to want to take a deep dive for common animal parts. I did catch one hungry guy after setting fire to a blue, four-legged deer thing.

I have to admit, no matter how much time and work I put into expanding my dungeon self, glimpses of Leiana’s simulation from Nyarlea continued to slip through the cracks.

As I willed the leafy tendrils that acted as my arms to strip the armor from an adventure claimed by a pit of doom, Keke’s laugh as she reeled in a fish echoed against the halls. Cooking always made me think of Cannoli. The adventurer’s polearm was uncannily close to Ceres’ favored weapon. And screeching birds that lost themselves in the darkness recalled visions of Ravyn cuddling with her blue parrot.

Even if I hadn’t lived through it, I’d spent over a year with all of them through Leiana. They felt like friends. And the Nyarlea version of me hadn’t been such a bad guy.

Maybe I made the wrong choice.

Hey! That jackass was supposed to be mine! Another dungeon cried. I’ve been after that armor for months!

Get good, Carl. I piled the expensive armor into a locked chest resting at the bottom level. A full Party would come for that set, I was sure of it. And they’d be in for a surprise when the chest bared its teeth.

I didn’t have to wait long.

“Guys, it’s this way!” a familiar voice called.

“Keke, wait up!” another girl squeaked.

“Kehehe. Last one there’s a roach!”

“Ugly roach! Ugly roach! Squaawk!”

“Ladies, please! This is not a contest! We will share the spoils equally, as always!”

When the four catgirls crested the hill nearby, I felt a rush of excitement and familiarity that made little sense. I’d never seen them before. Besides, it’s not like I could say hello, or hug them.

After all, I was just a dungeon.