The wind outside the cave is cold, biting against my skin as I stand at the entrance. Staring into the shadows stretching deep into the rock I remember the first time, my heart racing, hands clumsy with nerves. Now, after so many attempts, I know every twist and turn, every crack in the stone. I know where the goblins hide, where they set traps. I know what waits for me at the center. The faint pull of magic that whispers to me when I’m near. And yet, I've failed to reach it, time and time again.

I run a thumb over the hilt of my dagger, feeling the familiar grooves that have become like old friends. It’s a simple weapon, small, not even very sharp anymore. I’d found it on my second attempt, lying discarded near a dead adventurer just inside the cave entrance. He must have made it only a few steps in before something got him. The thought of ending up like that, broken and forgotten just inside the cave used to terrify me. Now, I’ve grown almost numb to it.

I tighten my grip on the dagger and take a deep breath, letting the cold air fill my lungs, steadying me. I can feel the flickering burn of my mana reserve and my muscles tighten in anticipation. I take another deep breath, steadying my nerves before I take the first step into the cave.

I take my first steps into the cave, the world outside fading away replaced by the cold damp air and the weight of the shadows. The cave isn’t just dark, it’s almost stifling, the silence thick and broken only by the faint distant echoes of dripping water and the occasional chitter of goblins somewhere deep within. My breath slows as I let my eyes adjust to the gloom, the faint glow of the moss and the mineral rich stone offering just enough light to guide me.

I move forward cautiously, every step calculated. The twisting passages are a maze of dead ends and hidden pitfalls. On my first attempt, I’d nearly walked straight into a trap, a simple but deadly snare of jagged rocks strung with tripwires at ankle height. It’s crude work, but it only needs to work once to be deadly. Now, with each step I scan the ground, the walls, and the ceiling for any signs of traps, my mind automatically calculating my path as I go.

The tunnel forks, splitting into two jagged passages. I pause, listening. From the left I hear a faint scuffling, a goblin likely setting another snare or waiting to ambush any unwary travelers. It’s easy enough to avoid, so I choose the right path, following its uneven twists. It’s a longer route, but I know this one is mostly free of traps. I step carefully, my footfalls light, testing each patch of ground before putting my full weight down. The floors are often slick with moss or loose gravel, and one wrong step could be enough to set off a rocslide or draw unwanted attention.

The air grows cooler the deeper I go, a damp chill that seeps through my clothes. The walls are rough and sharp, jutting out at odd angles narrowing and widening like the twisted intestines of some enormous beast. I reach another bend and peer around it cautious of any sudden movements. A line of rusted spikes jut from the wall, slick with something dark. I press my back against the opposite wall, sliding along its rough surface to avoid the spikes. Tight squeeze, but I manage.

The sounds of goblins grow louder now, their chittering echoing through the passages, bouncing off the walls so it seems to come from everywhere at once. I take another turn, careful to stay on the path I’ve memorized from my last few runs. Each twist, each branching path, becomes a metal map, each deadend and pitfall a mental note.

Ahead the floor drops sharply, a pit, concealed by loose stones that cover the edge. I remember this one well. My second, or was it third, attempt had ended there, tumbling into the darkness after one careless step. Now I sidestep it, barely sparing a glance down into its depths. I know how far it goes. Far enough to make it fatal.

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Another turn, another trap, a thin tripwire stretched across the passage, nearly invisible in the dark. I step over it, careful not to touch the taut string, which is anchored to a collection of crude weighted stones overhead. I’d seen it in action once; it’s designed to collapse onto anyone who disturbs the wire, a deadly landslide of rock and rubble.

I take a moment to steel myself before I venture farther. As always, I wonder to myself If the goblins reset these traps every time, or if it’s the magic of the dungeon that does it. No matter how many times I’ve been through here, they are always reset and in around the same areas.

The next few areas are much the same, a trap here a trick there. Almost all of which has ended my run through the cave, or dungeon. I could just about walk the first half blindfolded, but there is enough variation here and there that it would be foolish to do so. Feeling myself becoming lost in thought, I blink these thoughts away.

I press onward, feeling the faint tug of magic that pusles deeper within the cave. It’s a steady pull, guiding me, urging me forward. The goblin’s chittering grows more distinct, and I know I’m nearing their hideout. Just around the next few bends, their voices will be close enough that I can pick up on how many there are if I listen closely.

I keep close to the wall, moving as quietly as I can manage. Just a few yards ahead, the faint echoes of goblin voices drift through the tunnels. My pulse quickens, but I force myself to stay calm, focusing on the sound. Goblins are clever and they won’t hesitate to swarm if they sense weakness. But I’ve studied them on each attempt, learning to read their movements and recognize their signals. I know when they’re agitated and when they’re about to strike.

The voices grow clearer, sharpening into a series of high pitched hisses and clicks. I pause, crouch down and steady myself. From their tone, I judge there are just two of them. I creep forward, step by careful step, until I reach the bend in the tunnel, the stone wall cold and rough beneath my fingertips.

My heart hammers as I brace myself. I picture the fight in my mind, planning each move, remembering every misstep I’ve made in the past. This time I’ll be quicker, more precise. I tighten my grip on the dagger, preparing myself. This time I’ll get further.

I peek around the corner, as quietly as I can. There are two of the little green monsters, sitting around a small fire, chirping away as if they are sharing a joke. They haven’t seen me yet, so I take one last, quiet step forward. My heart racing as I brace myself. I spring forward, lunging toward them with a burst of speed. The closest goblin’s eyes widen, and it falls back, startled while the other one regains its composure almost instantly. It steps forward, meeting me with a fierce clash of blades.

Our daggers lock, and I feel its strength pressing against me, stronger than I expected. Gritting my teeth, I shove it back, landing a kick to its chest that sends it tumbling into the first goblin. They crash into each other, falling to the ground. I lunge at them burying my dagger into the throat of the one on top.

A surge of triumph flares up, but it dies just as quickly as the second goblin seizes me in a powerful grip. Before I can test free, it hurls me to the ground, my head cracking against the stone floor. I’m still struggling to focus when I feel its claws tear into my throat. The last thing I register is the hot flood of pain before darkness sweeps over me.

Standing outside the cave entrance, whole and unharmed. I blink, grounding myself in the sudden quiet. Everytime, it feels like I lived another life in a split second. I feel the rush of all the things they experienced or felt, it feels like a memory, but not my own. The most jarring thing is always their death, I have yet to experience an ending any other way.

Another duplicate down, but it got further than the last. This one actually got a hit in on one of the goblins, though how much damage it did is another thing. One more try, I tell myself and I’ll reach the center. The pull I feel from it, the magic at the core of the dungeon, calling to me. I steady my breathing, and my heart as the last bit of man trickles back into me. A notification appears in my vision:

Goblin Killed

100 XP Gained

Level Up!

I let out a sigh, a hint of a smile tugging at my lips. Progress. Once more into the breach.