In a flash, every human-erected construction on Earth--from Buckingham Palace to the tiniest of sheds to all the trucks and cars--collapses in a heap, sinking into the ground. The fruits of millenia of human progress, atomized and transformed into the dungeon: an 18-level labyrinth filled with traps, monsters, and loot. A dungeon so enormous, it circles the entire globe. Presented with impossible situations, dire straits, an empty promise of regaining their planet or the fame of intergalactical stardom, thirteen million of the remaining humans entered this dungeon. This death trap with glamorous gore and way too many bugs. Only a few of them truly matter, the top most popular crawlers such as the ill-pantsed Carl and his elegant mistress Princess Donut. This story isn't about such glorious people, however. This story focusses on one of the dregs overlooked by the masses as they try to cling on to their life. This is the story of Darryl and friends. Note: This is a Dungeon Crawler Carl fanfic. Please support and read the original, it's really good!