Bobby watched as Mic made the final adjustments to the quantum flux communicator. The gnome's tiny hands moved with precision, connecting wires and aligning crystals with practiced ease. Despite his earlier bravado, Mic's quivering moustache betrayed his nervousness.

"Alright, here goes nothing," Mic said, his voice cracking. He flipped a switch, and the device hummed to life, bathing the cramped cockpit in an eerie blue glow.

Bobby leaned in, his eyes fixed on the holographic display flickering to life. The fuzzy blue light cast strange shadows across Mic's face, making the gnome's features look even more alien.

"Oh! It's working!" Mic exclaimed, his stubby fingers dancing across the controls. "Just need to... adjust the... there we go!"

The image sharpened, revealing a dizzying array of symbols and glyphs Bobby couldn't decipher. He squinted, trying to make sense of it all.

"What am I looking at here, Mic?" Bobby asked, scratching his head.

"Um, well, this is the, uh, main communication hub for my people," Mic explained, his eyes darting back and forth across the display. "We use it to... Oh! There it is!"

Mic jabbed at a symbol that looked like a twisted corkscrew. The screen changed, filling with static and bursts of incomprehensible noise.

"Come on, come on," Mic muttered, twisting a dial. The static cleared, replaced by a garbled voice.

"...anyone... hear... emergency..."

Bobby's heart raced. "Can you clean that up?"

"Working on it!" Mic's tongue poked out of the corner of his mouth as he concentrated. "Just need to boost the... and filter out the... almost got it!"

The voice suddenly came through crystal clear, filling the cramped cockpit with urgency.

"This is an emergency broadcast. Any survivors, please respond. We have established a safe zone in..."

"No, err, that's not right." Mic said, adjusting it once more.

"No, wait," Bobby said, "that was a human voice. Where’s the safe zone? Can you bring that back?"

"I'll try…" Mic said as he adjusted the controls further. "I… err, I think I lost it."

"Damn it," Bobby muttered in frustration, only to bang his head against the low ceiling. He winced and rubbed the spot, momentarily distracted.

Bobby's heart raced as the human voice crackled through the ship's speakers. For a moment, he forgot about the cramped quarters and the alien technology surrounding him. A lifeline to his own kind, a beacon of hope in this twisted new world.

"Mic, can you get that signal back?" He leaned forward, nearly bumping his head again.

"Oh! Um, I'm trying." Mic's fingers flew across the controls, his brow furrowed in concentration. "It's tricky, you see. The quantum fluctuations are... well, they're fluctuating!"

Static filled the cabin once more, punctuated by brief snatches of garbled speech. Bobby clenched his fists, willing the voice to return.

"A human broadcast," he mused, his mind racing. "That means there's organisation out there. Maybe even a government or military presence."

Mic's moustache twitched. "Not to be a downer, but... remember, it's human raiders who took my Sprocket. Not all survivors are friendly."

Bobby's excitement deflated. "Right. Can't let my guard down."

"Once I complete the full repairs," Mic added, his tone brightening, "I should be able to triangulate the source of the broadcast. We'll know where it came from!"

They lapsed into silence, each lost in thought. The implications of other human survivors – both good and bad – weighed on Bobby's mind. After a few moments, he straightened up, wincing as his back protested.

"We can worry about that later," he said. "First things first. We need to trade those collars to help save your daughter. That's our priority."

Mic nodded, his large eyes shining. "You're right, of course. Sprocket comes first. Let's get back to work on those repairs, shall we?"

Bobby watched as Mic fiddled with the communication device once more. The gnome's tiny fingers danced across the controls, his face a mask of concentration. The holographic display flickered to life, revealing a figure that made Bobby's breath catch in his throat.

The being that appeared was unlike anything he'd ever seen. Tall and imposing, with mottled grey skin and multiple eyes arranged in a disconcerting pattern across its face. Sharp, protruding teeth gleamed as it spoke, its voice a guttural growl that sent shivers down Bobby's spine.

Mic, unfazed, negotiated. He mentioned the collars, and the creature's eyes lit up with unmistakable greed. After a brief exchange, the mercenary trader agreed to send coordinates for a rendezvous point. The holographic image winked out, leaving an eerie silence in its wake.

Bobby turned to Mic, his brow furrowed. "Who... or what... was that?"

Mic's moustache twitched as he considered his response. "Oh, that was a Kra'zak trader. They're, um, a rather warlike race. Excellent for this sort of transaction, but..." He trailed off, looking uncomfortable.

"But what?" Bobby pressed.

"Well, they can't really be trusted," Mic admitted. "Double-crossing is as natural to them as breathing. But they're the best option we have for selling these collars quickly."

Bobby frowned, a knot of unease forming in his stomach. He glanced at the book where Rem resided, seeking the dwarf's opinion.

Rem, what do you think about this? He asked.

Rem's voice echoed in Bobby's mind.

Bobby nodded, mulling over the information. Despite his reservations, he decided not to challenge Mic further on the matter. They needed the resources, and time was of the essence if they hoped to rescue Sprocket.

"Ok, let’s go trade these collars then." Bobby announced.

"Oh, um, not quite yet," Mic said as he fiddled with the communications device again. Another holographic image appeared, a different Kra'zak materialising before them.

Bobby watched with a mix of fascination and concern as Mic fiddled with the communications device again. Another holographic image appeared, a different Kra'zak materialising before them.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

"Mic, what are you doing now?" Bobby asked, leaning in closer.

"Oh! Um, well, you see, Bobby," Mic began, his moustache twitching with a hint of mischief, "when dealing with the Kra'zak, it's best to have a few tricks up your sleeve. Or, um, maybe not sleeve in my case, given my size, eh?" He chuckled nervously.

Mic's large eyes gleamed as he continued, "I've just, oh, contacted two separate Kra'zak merchant clans. We're going to have them both show up at the rendezvous point. That way, we can play them off against each other. Is that okay? I mean, it should work, right?"

Bobby's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "A bidding war? That's... actually pretty clever, Mic."

"You think so?" Mic beamed, pleased with the praise. "Oh, good! I was worried you might think it was too risky."

"It is risky," Bobby admitted, "but I can see why it might be necessary. How many of these clans are we dealing with here?"

Mic's expression grew serious, his moustache drooping. "Oh, there are quite a few Kra'zak clans in the area. Ever since Earth became part of the Dominion expanse, it's been a bit of a gold rush out there. Or maybe more like a mithril rush? Do humans have mithril? Um, anyway, the Kra'zak aren't the only ones either."

Bobby felt a chill run down his spine. "The Dominion expanse? So, we're not just dealing with the aftermath of the System apocalypse, but also alien politics?"

"Invasion, opportunity, new frontier – depends on who you ask, I suppose," Mic replied, fidgeting with his multi-tool. "But yes, Earth has become a hotbed of interstellar activity. That's part of why I'm so worried about Sprocket. There is a lot of danger out there, lots of people who wouldn't think twice about exploiting a young gnome. Oh, speaking of which, I wonder if I could modify some of their tech to help us find her? No, no, focus Mic, one thing at a time."

"Alright, I see why you're being so cautious. This plan of yours, playing these Kra'zak traders against each other – it's risky, but I get it now."

Mic beamed up at him, relieved. "It is risky, yes. But if we pull it off, we'll have the resources we need to rescue Sprocket. Um, that is, if you're still okay with this plan? I could try to think of something else if you'd prefer. Though I'm not sure what else we could do. Oh! Unless you have an idea?"

"No, your plan sounds like our best option," Bobby reassured him. "Let's go through with it."

With the decision made, he felt a sudden, overwhelming exhaustion. His body, pushed to its limits by the events of the past few days, finally rebelled. A loud growl emanated from his stomach, breaking the tense atmosphere.

"Oh, um, speaking of resources," Bobby said, a sheepish grin spreading across his face despite the turmoil in his mind, "I hate to ask, but do you have any proper food on this ship? I'm starving here."

"Oh, my goodness! Where are my manners? Of course, you must be famished!" The gnome's moustache twitched with concern. "I'm so sorry, Bobby. I got so caught up in all this that I completely forgot about basic necessities."

Bobby waved off the apology. "It's fine, Mic. We've had a lot on our minds."

"Right, right," Mic nodded vigorously. "Well, before we head off to the rendezvous point, let's get you fed. I've got some ration meals around here somewhere. They're not gourmet, but they'll keep you going. Oh! And I think I might have some freeze-dried gnomish delicacies tucked away somewhere. How do you feel about mushroom and moss surprise?"

Bobby's stomach growled again, louder this time. He chuckled, "Mic, I'd eat just about anything. Lead the way."

As they made their way to the ship's tiny food preparation area, Bobby's mind raced with the implications of everything he'd learned. The world had changed far more drastically than he'd realised. Not only was he dealing with the aftermath of the System apocalypse, but now alien races and interstellar politics were part of the equation.

Mic rummaged through a small storage compartment, his moustache twitching as he muttered to himself. "Ah, here we go!" he exclaimed, pulling out a few packages. "Nutrient bars and... oh! Some dehydrated gnomish stew. It's not much, but it'll do for now."

Bobby accepted the offered food, tearing into a nutrient bar with gusto. As the bland yet filling substance hit his stomach, he felt a small measure of normalcy return. He chewed, watching Mic fiddle with a compact heating unit for the stew.

"Mic," Bobby said after swallowing a large bite, "I know we're focused on rescuing Sprocket, and that's the priority. But once we've done that... what then? Where do I fit into this new version of Earth?"

Mic paused, his large eyes meeting Bobby's gaze. For a moment, the gnome's usual nervous energy stilled. "Oh, um, I don't really know," he admitted, fidgeting with his multi-tool. "The council hasn't, uh, decided your fate yet. I mean, not your fate specifically, but, you know, humans in general. Or whoever survives, I suppose."

"My fate?" Bobby asked, alarmed.

"No, no! Not yours," Mic's moustaches quivered. "But, um, humans. Or whoever survives the System apocalypse. It's all very complicated, you see."

"What do they normally decide?" Bobby pressed.

"Oh, well, that's, uh, a bit above my pay grade, as you humans might say," Mic chuckled. "Could be a farm world, or maybe there are some good resources here. Oh! A dungeon world, if you're lucky. Although, I'm not sure if that's really lucky or not. Depends on your perspective, I suppose."

"Dungeon world? If we're lucky?" Bobby's brow furrowed in confusion.

Mic waved his hands, nearly dropping his multi-tool. "Don't, uh, don't worry about that now. It's all very technical and, um, frankly, Sprocket could explain it much better than I can. She's always been good with the big picture stuff. Let's focus on getting her back first, and then, well, I'm sure we'll get it all sorted out. One quantum fluctuation at a time, right?"

Bobby wasn't happy with being brushed off, but the gnome had given him something else to think about. He consulted his other source of information.

Rem, he thought, what's a dungeon world?

Rem's voice echoed in his mind.

I can do that? Bobby asked, surprised.

As Bobby contemplated this new piece of information, Mic had already moved on, muttering about potential modifications to his multi-tool that might help in their upcoming negotiation with the Kra'zak. The gnome's enthusiasm was infectious, but Bobby couldn't shake the feeling that there was much more to this new world order than Mic was letting on.

Bobby nodded at Mic's rambling, his mind focused on Rem's suggestion.

Navigating through the menu, he found a section labeled "World Types" and selected it. Scrolling down, he located "Dungeon World" and tapped on it. A description appeared before him, and as he read, his eyes widened in a mixture of fascination and apprehension.

Dungeon World: A planetary classification within the System, characterised by a high concentration of dungeons, labyrinths, and other challenge-based structures. These worlds promote rapid advancement and resource gathering for their inhabitants.

Key features:

Numerous dungeons of varying difficulty levels

Abundant magical and technological artifacts

High-density mana environments

Increased spawn rates for monsters and hostile entities

Accelerated personal growth and skill development

Dungeon Worlds are considered prime locations for adventurers, guilds, and those seeking to quickly increase their power. However, they also present significant dangers, with a higher mortality rate than most other world types.

Note: Classification as a Dungeon World often results in dramatic changes to existing planetary landscapes and ecosystems.

Bobby blinked, the menu fading from view as he returned his attention to the cramped ship's interior. A wave of dizziness washed over him as the implications sank in. If Earth were to become a Dungeon World, it would mean a complete transformation of everything he'd ever known. His home, his family, his entire way of life – all could be irrevocably changed or lost forever.

Rem, he thought, his mental voice tinged with panic. Is this real? Can they just... change an entire planet like that?

Rem's dry voice echoed in Bobby's mind.

But why? Bobby pressed. What's the point of all this?

Rem mused.

Bobby felt a chill run down his spine. And what do you think?

Bobby nodded, processing Rem's words. You're right. I can't change what's happening, but I can learn to navigate it. Starting with this situation with the Kra'zak.

Rem's tone was approving.

With renewed determination, Bobby turned his attention back to Mic, who was still chattering away about shield upgrades. He realised that between Mic's technical know-how and Rem's ancient wisdom, he had valuable allies in facing whatever challenges lay ahead.

"Mic," he interrupted the gnome's excited rambling, "tell me more about these Kra'zak. If we're going to negotiate with them, I want to be as prepared as possible."