Animal conservation had been a well-respected pursuit even before the Apocalypse, but with mana wreaking havoc on poor beasts everywhere in the globe, maintaining healthy populations of ordinary specimens had become a much harder job.
High-tech equipment was needed to control the ambient energy levels, alongside the occasional evacuation when the possibility of a dungeon being born was heightened. Dedicated biologists and animal rearing experts conducted complex operations to prevent excessive mana from mutating the wildlife.
It was why James had been surprised to learn that a dungeon had formed in Long Island near the William T. Davis Wildlife Refuge. Considering its closeness to the suburbs and its highly trained professionals, it was unlikely that a mistake had been made.
He was correct, it turned out. The dungeon had not spawned in the Refuge, as would have been normal to believe, but in one of the houses nearby.
Between Mulberry and Park Ave, a few buildings had been left abandoned, as was common in the suburbs. Great cities like New York would always be well protected, but its hanger ons didn’t receive as good of a service, especially in the early years after the Apocalypse.
One of these houses, it seemed, had been the epicenter of a Mana Sink. Not enough power to change anything beyond its limit, luckily, but the well-tuned detectors employed in the Reserve had caught it quickly.
Unfortunately for them, that dungeon was then assigned to the Golden Sun Guild, which would typically conduct a sweep and, if nothing of worth was found, would give it to their subsidiaries.
This process was interrupted by the dismantling of the organization after the raids and through court orders. That left several smaller, less immediately important dungeons, such as the Mulberry Ave one, to themselves.
It’s unfortunate, but even after they caught most of the Golden Sun, it’s not like things changed that much. Yes, there is less overt criminality now, and whatever it was they were doing has been stopped, but the AA is still short-staffed. We still need to auction most dungeons to private guilds.
Thus, three-quarters of the Golden Sun’s dungeons were given off to more reliable organizations, while the rest were split between the Special Ops and the AA.
Coming out of Mr. Robinson’s black van, James laid his eyes on the last of those. His team had been taken off the roster for a few days, owing to the legitimately dangerous situation they had found themselves in and the need to get accustomed to their more powerful skills and bodies.
Now, however, they were ready to get back to the grind.
“I doubt we’ll get as lucky as in the spider dungeon. But if we can eke out a couple of levels from this thing, I’ll consider myself satisfied.” Ezekiel said from where he was busy tying his boots.
“Never met anyone as mana-hungry as you, Ez.” James laughed. It was the truth. Being a White Mage, Ezekiel could serve as a force multiplier all by himself, but his skills all required an enormous amount of power to operate, forcing him to rely on mana potions, which could have undesired effects down the line if one took too many.
James’ chuckle echoed amidst the eerie silence of the desolate suburban area as his eyes flicked toward the decaying house at the end of the street, its muted, dark windows gazing back like vacant eyes. It was an unusual sight to associate with the formation of a dungeon, these domestic shells of a world gone by, now playing host to creatures born of mana and chaos, but it still happened sometimes.
Lauren strapped her daggers to her sides, contemplatively looking at the neighborhood “This place has really become a shithole, hasn’t it? I remember coming around these parts when I was a kid. It wasn’t pretty, but nothing compared to what it is now.”
Daniel, adjusting his shield and checking his equipment, nodded in agreement. “It’s much worse than it should be, I think, because it’s so close to the Reserve. People just don’t want to be close to possible dungeons.” Then, looking at the creaking fence door, he added. “Even though this place isn’t screaming danger like that spider dungeon, we can’t let our guards down. Being so concentrated, this dungeon might have created some unique monsters. Let’s proceed carefully.”
The overgrown garden, which once might have housed flowers or vegetables, rustled ominously. Without much wind to move the grass, they could only conclude that something else was in there.
“Go away!” An old woman, frail and shadowed, emerged from behind a nearby house. She clutched at her shawl, pulling it tighter around her as if to shield herself from the spectral chill of the place.
Mindful of what might be an abandoned person whose mental health was likely in a bad state, James addressed her gently. "Ma'am, we're here to make sure nothing comes out from this dungeon. We mean you no harm. We’ll resolve this problem and be on our way.”
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Her wild gaze was drawn to the darkness of the entrance, where light seemed to be swallowed whole “The family that lived there...the Millers, they were ruthlessly murdered, and their spirits have never found peace. This isn’t just a dungeon – it's their graveyard!”
Lauren’s gaze softened with a mix of pity and understanding, casting a gentle glance toward the elderly lady. "Can you tell us more about them, about the Millers?" She asked with a soft, coaxing tone.
“The girl… She was always disturbed. Strange.” The woman gladly began, evidently itching to share the story. “She made friends with bad people. They’d come around once in a while, with their tattoos and drugs. She went down a bad road. In the end, she brought her whole family with her.”
Drug problems were an unfortunate reality and as one might expect, living through the Apocalypse only made them more common. “So they were murdered by a gang?” James asked.
Refocusing on him with a disquieting focus, she answered “They were. Their remains were left there for a week before the police finally came by to clean it up. I know the dungeon is here because of them. I know it.”
They all looked at each other. Incorporeal Spirits were not an impossible thing, but they were usually of very high rank. And they did not have stealth skills like the Arachne, meaning their mana alone would have significantly lifted the ambient reading.
Still, such a tragic event could explain why this house specifically turned into a dungeon, and not one of the other abandoned ones. Strong emotions could direct mana, after all.
“Very well, thank you for the information, ma’am. We’ll proceed with care, and if anything of the sort turns out, know that we have a White Mage with us.” James answered, pointing to Ezekiel, who made his hands glow white on cue.
The woman gasped softly, a relieved smile breaking through the haze of sadness and desperation. “Oh, that’s fantastic. Please, please free this place from its curse.”
“Don’t worry, ma’am. We’ll be done quickly.” The youngest of the team reassured, angelic smile firmly in place.
The woman finally left, muttering to herself how glad she was that finally someone would exorcize the place.
When she was finally out of earshot, Lauren chuckled. “Do you think she might realize that you don’t have the skills to do anything of the sort?”
Ezekiel shrugged. “Hey, it’s James that said it. And it’s not really a lie. I am a White Mage. It’s just that it’ll take until my third awakening before I get anything close to that level of power.”
“Alright, I think it’s time to get inside. Let’s remember that while we shouldn’t expect Spirits, it is true that a tragedy of that level might influence the development of the dungeon, so let’s be careful.” James said, taking point.
Since Thakinetic Awareness had leveled up, he could feel more and better, now being able to discern the nuances of a being’s intentions.
Turning his skill on the abandoned house, he immediately noticed the presence of several plant monsters. Their minds were weak, but they burrowed deep, and more than that, their intentions seemed less towards immediate harm and more about slow ambushes.
He relayed this to the rest of the team, and Daniel took out his testing kit. Waving one of the pieces of paper in the air, it quickly changed color, turning to a burnt orange.
The Tank quickly consulted the pamphlet “Paralyzing and hallucinations. Since it’s in the air even outside the dungeon proper, it might explain why that old lady seemed so crazy.”
“Should I just burn them?” Maria asked, always eager for a bit of pyromania.
James shrugged, looking at Daniel, who sighed and took out another slip of paper. This time, it didn’t react, showing that the gas in the air wasn’t flammable.
“Go ahead, but try to keep it contained.” James finally said, turning his senses deeper into the building while Maria let loose a torrent of flames.
Things were moving inside, scurrying between the floors, hiding in the rooms and basement. Since it was such an unconventional dungeon, they’d need to rethink some of their tactics, but he felt confident they’d make it.
A few minutes later, the lawn was entirely burnt, not a blade of grass in sight. Crossing the now empty lawn, they arrived at the door, which easily broke into splinters under James’ kick.
The interior was a portrait of decay, with timeworn furniture and moth-eaten curtains draped like specters in the darkness. The house opened directly into the living room, a strange occurrence in a sixties’ construction. Some of the floorboards were waterlogged and looked like they’d break under the slightest pressure.
Creaks resounded through the entire building, giving it the impression of being one strong gust away from falling apart.
Yet, amidst the rot and ruin, an uncanny semblance of life persisted. A meal, now just a moldy mess, was still on the dining table, perhaps left behind in the family’s last moments of terror.
James' skill resonated with the quiet and hidden life forms. Their intent mingled with the more malicious crawl of monsters. Other things scurried in the dark above them, their forms indicating insects and critters overgrown thanks to the mana. One concentration of beings in particular, long and sinuous, with brutally simple minds, caught his attention. When they didn’t move, he kept looking around.
His gaze lingered on the remnants of a family portrait, the faces scratched out by some violent entity or desperate act.
Lauren leaned closer to observe what looked like a small child's drawing pinned to the crumbling wall. It depicted a happy family, yet ominously overshadowed by dark, amorphous shapes. The incongruity between the naive art and the lingering malevolence of the dungeon caused a visible shiver to go down her spine.
Suddenly, several big creatures scurried towards them, and James jumped to action. Three centipedes, as long and thick as an anaconda, came out of the kitchen, pincers dripping with venom.
Without the need to speak, they all set up around the table, forcing the creatures to face them separately.
Daniel’s shining shield caught their attention. With a screech, they attacked, ignoring the trap they were caught in. James and Lauren swiftly crushed the two closest ones from the sides with a single, brutal hit, while the Tank allowed the last one to try and bite into his shield. It was too late when it realized it couldn’t, as a mighty bash crushed its head.
“Nothing else seems to be coming.”James announced, shaking his fist to clean the centipede brain stuck to it.
A couple of minutes later, Ezekiel’s voice sliced through the oppressive silence. “This place is too damn creepy. Insects I can kind of get, but these drawings are not normal. Do you think someone lived here after the murders?” He asked, staring at the same portrait that had captured James’ attention.
A distant, muffled cry echoed through the hollow recesses of the dilapidated structure. The team turned in unison, hands tightly gripping their weaponry, bodies instinctively sinking into a combative stance.
It came again, a sorrowful wail, tinged with an undercurrent of simmering rage, shaking the remnants of shattered glass on the window panes. Their eyes locked with shared acknowledgment – this dungeon was not just a den of monsters. Something else was inside with them.