Steven was tense as the door closed behind him. He was in the back, with Margie in front of him, then Micheal, then Buford at the lead.

The entrance was a square room about the size of his dorm room. Probably just for guests to take off their coats out of the weather.

Its dark walls were lined with two thick cables that stretched to the room's three doors and, presumably, past them. And aside from that was without fancy trappings or anything of the like.

“Okay,” Micheal said. “I’m thinking a trap?”

As if his words had summoned them, a trap door opened in the ceiling, and two Shambling Peasant’s dropped down.

Steven expected something to happen, but that still took him off guard. Even Buford paused long enough for the Shamblers to land in deep crouches.

Their glowing red eyes and the easy way they rose from their crouch told Steven these were the fast variety.

They hadn’t been a problem for Buford and him working together before, and that was 4 Skill points ago.

Steven summoned three shields, one after the other. He’d been trying to call them all at once, but there was a half-second delay between each shield.

They appeared on each side of one Shambler, and he called the third right in front of them.

The Shambler had no choice but to back away or crouch down. It opted to back away, and by that point, Buford was already flying at the other Shambler.

He flew six feet in the blink of an eye, not dropping at all as he slammed into the monster.

Holy shit, those Skill levels were no joke.

The Shamblers were fast as hell, but it didn’t have time to do more than flinch before Buford hit.

The other Shambler tried to rush the dog, but Steven dismissed and summoned more shields. The Shambler quickly got past them, but he just did it again.

Buford finished the first Shambler with a spark of electricity and a crunch.

The remaining Shambler was mid-dodge when Buford took out its legs. It didn’t last much longer.

Ding! You have Slain 2 Graceful Peasants! Split with Margie Vern

So the fast ones were called Graceful Peasants. Steven frowned at the split. It was only with Margie. Maybe it was because Micheal hadn’t done anything? But what exactly did you need to do to get in on the split?

Why don’t you ask the System, idiot.

Right, that was an option.

He spoke aloud. “System, how does XP splitting work?”

“Well, well, two questions in a day! I’ll keep it brief since you’re in a dungeon. XP is split between the members who participated in the kill. Any amount of meaningful contribution will get you in on the split, with the person who contributed the most getting the largest share.”

Margie glanced at Micheal. “Why didn’t he get any of the split?”

“The System says the splits go by contributions.” He turned to Micheal. “I think you should draw some focus from one of the Shambler's next fight. Not these fast ones. They’re too dangerous. One of them almost bit my face off at your house.”

His cheek was still throbbing from that punch, though the level-up had helped.

“If we rescue you from a slow one, you can use your buff. That should be enough to get you in the split.”

Micheal grimaced. “I really wish my Class didn’t require me to put myself in danger before I can be useful.”

Margie patted him on the shoulder. “Yeah, it’s a pretty raw deal. But you should hit level 3 pretty fast, and then you’ll have some Skill points to pump your buff up.”

Micheal snickered. “Pump your buff up. Sounds like an innuendo.”

She grinned and clapped Micheal on the back. “We’re wearing high-end fetish gear, so it fits!”

Steven winced. “I hate it here.”

Micheal gestured around with a shocked expression. “Come now, this manor is lovely. All dark wood and cold stone, with some nice exposed wiring to add flair.”

Steven rolled his eyes, then gestured to the doors. “Which should we pick?”

Micheal shrugged. “The middle one? We don’t really have anything to go on. Though it’s probably a safe bet that the Boss is at the deepest point.”

“Well, if we don’t have anything to go on, we might as well take the middle one,” Margie said as she absently patted Buford.

“Why?” Steven asked.

“Because we don’t have anything to go on. And we don’t want to be caught with Jugger Hound on cooldown. It’s only a few minutes, but we’ll be close to sitting ducks the whole time.”

Steven nodded. “Works for me.”

They got back in formation, then paused. “Oh, Buford can’t open doors.”

“I’ll do it,” Steven said. “But let’s be smart about it. For all we know, the next room could have a lightning cannon pointed at the door.“

They pressed against the wall on each side of the door, and Steven quickly reached over and pulled the handle.

The door swung silently open on well-oiled hinges—no rain of thunder and fire.

Off to a good start.

He poked his head around the doorway. No immediate dangers, but the room was…odd.

It was a long hallway that had been sliced in half. The left side looked like a kitchen, with a stove and oven glowing merely near the door. As he watched, the oven opened, and a sword stabbed out.

Okay then.

The middle was lined lengthwise with sturdy iron bars, separating the right side, which was a barren hallway.

The ceiling, though, was lined with dozens of holes. Steven didn’t like the look of those.

Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

At the end of the left side was a door wrapped in heavy chains. Next to it, on the side filled with holes, was a black knob with metal lines running to the door.

“The hell is all this?”

“Well then!” The System said out of nowhere.

Steven flinched and almost banged his head on the door.

It cleared its throat or at least made the sound. “I’m going to interpret that as generously as possible and pretend you were asking me. I didn’t make too many of these for the first scenarios, so your group is the first to get to one, and I’m really excited.”

Steven blinked at the words. “First what?”

“A puzzle room!” The System practicality squeed. “Do you know how many meatheads excel at first only to slam into the first thing they can’t stab into submission like a brick wall? It never gets old!”

“It sounds very entertaining,” Steven said dryly.

“I know you’re being sarcastic, you little shit, but it is very entertaining!”

Steven pondered the System’s words as it continued to gush about puzzle rooms.

It had made plenty of comments at this point that made it clear it had done all of this before. But to who? Where?

Well, just ask. Worst case, it just hits you with some snark.

“Who, exactly, have you done this to before?”

The System cut off. It was silent long enough that Steven thought it wasn’t going to answer, but just as he turned to the others, it spoke.

“Worlds. You’re not the only planet in this universe, and you’re not the only universe.”

It sighed.

“Puzzle rooms are always solvable with the tools you have on hand unless expressly stated otherwise. So unless you get a prompt, it’s not impossible, you’re just stupid.”

Steven glowered at the air. “You’re going to drop that bombshell and move on?”

“Yes.”

…

“Also, System out.”

He stared at the ceiling for a long, silent moment, then turned and told the others what the System had said.

Micheal grinned from ear to ear. “Puzzles! And other worlds?” He shook his head. “No time to ponder other worlds, but puzzles? Oh, this is going to be fun! Or at least, more fun than fighting.”

Margie quirked a brow. “I agree we don’t have time to really dig into the whole other worlds thing, but you’re awfully excited about puzzles. I take it you're a fan?”

Micheal nodded as he looked over the room. None of them stepped inside yet. The System had said it was a puzzle room, but it hadn’t said it would be safe.

“I play every puzzle game I can get my hands on.”

He glanced at Steven. “Get ready with a shield if anything tries to kill me, please. I’m just poking a foot in.”

Steven nodded, and the man slowly inched his foot past the doorway. They all held their breath.

Nothing happened.

“Okay,” Micheal said. “No prompt, so it’s solvable.” He paused. “Do you think it’s instanced? Like a dungeon in an MMO?”

Steven shrugged. “It would make sense if the room tailored itself to the people opening the door if it’s supposed to be solvable. But…”

Micheal nodded. “Can’t really go off one room.”

The redhead scanned the room. “I figure we should stay out of it until we have to.

Margie took a seat next to Buford, laying her gun down at her side. Steven was surprised she had been able to carry it this long. Margie was tough as hell, but she was also a skinny old woman. Maybe the level-ups had done more than refresh their energy.

That train of thought cut off as Micheal pointed.

“I’m guessing we need to get Buford to latch onto the metal knob next to the door. Once it electrifies, the door will unlock…probably. But that seems simple.” He rubbed at his chin, then glanced at the holes lining the right half.

“Steven? Mind tossing a shield under one of those?”

He shrugged and raised a hand. A green shield materialized at his max range, 16 feet.

As soon as it appeared, a blur slammed down from the ceiling. It crashed into the shield so hard that Steven felt it would have cracked or even broken Hand-Shield before the levels.

The object looked like a long crossbow bolt, with a thick chain attached to its bottom. After a second, the bolt quickly pulled back into the ceiling.

“Okay. So, we certainly can’t outrun that. Can you shield it fast enough?”

Steven shook his head. “No, if it was one of us going through, I could put a shield over our heads to block it. The bolts are strong, but they won’t break through. Buford’s too big, though. Even if I timed it perfectly, which I don’t think I can, he’s a lot longer than three hands, and there’s a lot of holes in the ceiling.”

Micheal nodded. “Okay. So just sprinting isn’t an option. He turned to Margie. Just how fast is Buford, though? Have you had time to test that?”

She shook her head, grey braid tossing with the motion.

“No, I haven't even had this Class for an hour and a half yet.“ She climbed to her feet with a grunt.

“Buford, stay.” She walked to the other side of the room. It wasn’t a lot of space, just barely enough for Buford to get into a full run.

“Come.”

Buford tensed, then rocketed forward. He reached Margie in a second, crimson and yellow sparks of energy trailing off him. Steven could tell he’d been wrong. The dog had gotten to her before getting into a full run.

He whistled. “That’s crazy fast. But I don’t think it’s crossbow fast.”

Margie shook her head. “No, he can’t make it in time.”

Micheal turned to the room again. “Steven, can you summon another shield?” He complied, and another bolt slammed down. It paused for a second, then retracted. “There!” Micheal shouted. “It isn’t slow pulling back, but it’s a hell of a lot slower than the way down. I bet Buford could run under them as they pull back!”

Margie frowned. I don’t know if he’s fast enough. And if we’re wrong on the timing…”

Micheal gave a sharp nod. “Let’s test then.”

Over the next few minutes, he had Steven summon and dismiss his shields over and over, getting exact counts of how fast the bolts pulled back and how quickly Steven could call his shields.

Half a second was the fastest he could summon his shields. Even if he tried to call them simultaneously, there was a half-second delay, but dismissing them was instant, as far as they could tell.

They also timed how fast the bolts pulled back and how fast Buford could run.

It wasn’t fast enough. Even assuming that he got to full speed and they timed it perfectly, Buford would still get hit before making it to the end.

The problem was his sheer size. He could really move after the buff, Steven guessed the dog was probably going 35-40mph, but he was so long that the bolts behind him would have enough time to reset before he cleared them.

It was close, though, really close.

“Maybe we should just move to a different room?” Margie suggested. “We can’t waste too much time on this. Jugger-Hound only has 10 minutes left.”

Micheal scowled. “We can solve this, though! The System would have given a prompt if we couldn’t!”

Steven nodded. “Yeah, but if we can’t figure it out, we’re just burning time. The longer this scenario goes on, the more people die.”

Micheal scowled but, after a second, nodded. “How about this? Give me ten more minutes. If we haven’t figured it out by then, we wait for Jugger-Hound to come off cooldown, then move on with a fresh clock.”

They frowned. “I don’t like the wait,” Margie said. “But this room has proven safe.”

Steven nodded. “Nothing attacked us yet, so it’s probably worth it to wait.”

Steven walked over to the doorway with Micheal. He scanned the room, not that anything had changed. He just wanted to get a fresh look.

His gaze turned to the kitchen side. What was the point of that? This was a puzzle; surely it had some point? But what was it?

The only thing about it that stood out was the oven. A sword trap did catch the eye. But what was the point?

Heh, point.

He shook his head. Break the problem down, Steven.

They needed to make Buford faster. How did they do that?

His eyes flicked back to the sword, and something tickled his brain.

The sword…danger…As a thought started to form, Margie walked up behind them and glanced into the room.

“Oh,” she said. “Micheal needs to try and get stabbed.”

They turned to her.

Micheal blinked. “Want to run that by me again?”