Roman tapped a pen against the sign-out sheet. A list of names, all entered days ago, none signed out. “Know anything about these?”

“Nope.” Burton scratched the back of his elbow, scrunching the stiff uniform, face screwed up in discomfort. “You figure they’re dead?”

“What else can it be? No one lasts two days in one of these things.”

“Did you look inside?”

“Of course I didn’t look inside. I’m not an idiot. The last guy that poked his head in there said there’s a T-Rex in the entry room. I’m not signed up for that kind of nonsense.”

Burton sighed wearily, still grimacing as he rotated one shoulder. “I’m sure there’s something in the procedure book about this.”

Roman stared down at the clipboard, covering a yawn with one hand before flipping through the pages. “Do you have the procedure book memorized?”

“Nope.”

“Do you know where it is?”

“Ummm… probably in the boot of my car. May’ve slid under the seat. Want me to go find it?”

Roman glanced up at the parking lot, then back at the clipboard. “Nah. Leave it for the next shift to worry about. I don’t even recognize half these forms.”

That was when the T-Rex head-butted the doors with enough force to pop them off their hinges and send them skidding across the pavement, throwing up sparks.

The clipboard fell from Roman’s numb fingers. Sure, he’d heard the guys last night say there was a T-Rex in there, but seeing it in person was an altogether different experience. He couldn’t move. Stunned, staring helplessly.

Burton screamed and toppled over, scrabbling backwards to get away.

“Reggie! Wait up.” A young voice. Teenager?

That broke Roman’s paralysis. He crossed himself, backing up against the wall of the guard shack. Anything coming out of that thing was evil. Had to be.

The dinosaur stopped advancing on the terrified guards and turned around, then sat down with a pavement-shattering thump.

Behind the dinosaur came two… armored birds with eyestalks? Roman had to blink a few times to be sure he wasn’t seeing things. The dungeon had lots of plant-animal hybrid creatures, and those slimes. These were an entirely different type of unnatural and unsettling.

Burton’s scream cut off as he stumbled to his feet and ran for it, swerving unsteadily for a moment before disappearing out of sight.

Roman could only stare. It was like the first day in the dungeon all over again, his reality breaking apart and reconfiguring itself.

A couple walked out next, side by side, their son trailing behind.

They all had level tags.

Levi. Irene. Peter. Roman recognized those names. They were the visitors. Visitors needed to be signed out.

Roman looked for the clipboard. He’d had it a moment ago. Oh, there. On the ground.

He picked it up and held it out to the new arrivals. He couldn’t remember how words went so he didn’t try to speak.

“Thank you.” The woman, Irene, flipped through the pages. “Is this the exit survey we’re supposed to fill out?”

Roman nodded mutely.

“Who’s your boss?” the man, Levi, demanded. He was almost level 20, so Roman knew he was someone important.

“Salvadore, sir,” Roman answered through sheer reflex. “He’ll be next day here.”

No, that wasn’t right.

“He’ll Friday.”

Was that better?

Roman’s head hurt.

“Have your people been going into the dungeon regularly?” Levi demanded.

“Yes, sir. Three a days. Week. We go all together.” This was embarrassing. The man was going to think Roman was an idiot at this rate, but he just couldn’t seem to remember how to put a sentence together properly, words tripping over each other or getting tangled up around themselves.

“Have you ever reached the boss room?”

Roman didn’t know how to answer that, so he made no attempt.

“Idiots,” Levi cursed under his breath, then raised his voice. “The boss room needs to be cleared at least every second week, or you’re going to have a very dead city on your hands very soon. You cannot go into a dungeon, play around in the early rooms, and expect to escape the consequences.”

Roman stared dumbly.

“I’ll write it down here,” the woman said. “Be sure your boss sees it, okay? It’s very important to your safety and that of everyone in the area.”

Roman nodded.

There were more monsters now. He didn’t look at them. He looked at the clipboard the woman handed back to him.

They talked some more.

Then they left.

He stood there a long time, before stumbling back into the guard shack and collapsing into his chair.

Burton had never clocked in. He wondered if he should do anything about that.

Roman set the clipboard on his desk. He should call Salvadore.

He picked up the receiver, fumbled it onto the floor, then stared down at it as the dial tone hummed steadily.

He was in no condition to call anyone. He’d have Burton call when he got back. Or maybe after lunch his brain would stop breaking and life would make sense again.

Three more hours until lunch. Roman could survive three hours.

It was the longest three hours of his life. By the end of it, he’d almost convinced himself he was hallucinating and having some kind of breakdown. He wasn’t going to call anyone or say anything. He’d turn in the paperwork like it was a normal day, and that would be that.

Everything would be fine.

He closed the gate and walked to the cafe across the way, pleased that he wasn’t trembling any more. Maybe he’d make it through this day after all.

…he just wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to set foot in a dungeon again.

Halfway down the block, his conscience caught up with him. Now that he was away from the paralysis and could think relatively clearly, he recognized the potential importance of the information he’d been entrusted with.

Turning back, Roman sprinted to the guard shack. This time his hands were steady and focused as he dialed the number and scanned through the information the woman had written down.

She’d also tucked a few pamphlets in behind it, so he flipped through that while the phone rang. A lot of it was stuff they already knew, but a lot of it was completely new.

That proved it. These were definitely agents on a much higher level than whatever Salvadore thought was going on.

“Salvadore’s office, how can I help you today?” The receptionist’s cheery voice helped further alleviate the aura of dread that seemed to have fallen over the area.

“It’s Roman. I have an urgent incident report. Something happened with the dungeon this morning.”

“If it’s the dinosaur again, we’ve already been informed. It’s an anomaly, but—”

“The dinosaur left the dungeon, it won’t be an issue. This is more important. A group of people who went in several days ago came out, very high level, and gave me a list of instructions for how the dungeon needs to be handled.”

Silence. Then, “Please hold, I’m going to send you through to Salvadore.”

“Thank you.”

He flipped through the pamphlets again. Assigning stat points? Through chaotic prismatic algebra? It made his brain hurt just trying to follow along with the instructions. This was completely insane. How was anyone supposed to do this? How had anyone even figured out this was what to do?

Salvadore’s voice cut through his contemplation, curt acknowledgement.

Roman recited the morning’s events, feeling a weight lifted as he relayed the messages and read out the pamphlets. It took over a half hour to relay everything, backtracking several times until Salvadore was satisfied, then a long silence while the region commander considered everything in the report.

“You have a printer there?”

“I’m not sure, let me check.” Roman gave the place a thorough search, opening drawers, moving boxes, but it was quite a small building and there weren’t many places for anything to hide. “No printer.”

“Pick them up at the main office, then. I’m having notices made up with all this information, and want them posted clearly in every potential entrance to the dungeon. This is clearly an even bigger threat than we imagined.”

“Yes, sir.” Roman wasn’t sure he’d ever spoken with such absolute conviction before in his life. “Understood.”

He hung up, double checked the gate—well, there wasn’t anything to be done about that, but he checked the caution tape—and headed out to his car.

He could grab lunch later. This may well be the most important paperwork he’d ever do in his life. He’d already lost enough time to his own shock. Time to save the world.