Vvy, Latludiuos, Ronnie, Faolandan, Yleen, and Illyseh stood before the dungeon entrance, a joyful Barahu was turning circles around them. The wolfhound, drooling from his mouth, looked into this black hole overflowing with power and mana, in anticipation of a new prey. Unfortunately, for many members of the group, the mountain opening did not cause joy, but disappointment. It was without frills and remarkable architecture as if it had been hastily created many centuries ago by a group of uncouth primitive people. Too cramped and shabby for an S+ rank dungeon. The air that the cave exhaled said the opposite: a sickening stench and grave dampness. Gnawed animal bones lay in front of the entrance.

“It looks like the mouth of a giant,” Faolandan said.

Vvy picked up a part of the rib and turned it over in his hand and toss it aside and saw faint hoofprints at the entrance and said:

“Chewed, and spit out… I hope we won’t suffer the same fate.”

The first rays of the rising sun caught the early birds from the east, staining the snake-shaped clouds with scarlet rays. The star was rising, surrounded by the vise of a rocky gorge. To the west, a cloud of strange creatures swirled in a funnel over the tops of the mountains. There on the slope was a spiky, mercury-colored forest, from the metallic jungles of which a waterfall tumbled down into a small, frothy lake. Matafaire was said to like to nest in such places.

Mercyaa, Hebanyak, and Rdrag (level 19, 13%, rank: Deputy Support Officer) were hiding among the cobblestones five hundred meters from the dungeon. They were watching for anyone on the stone plains of these harsh Gothic places. Nothing but yellow moss, razor-sharp pebbles, and endless mountain strongholds. A shadow of Fore-ore flashed over their heads–a flying creature similar to an owl, with a white muzzle, white plumage on the wings, and unusual branching horns. The manager looked at the Varnasosto fortress. A thousand players were running back and forth like ants, preparing for the appearance of the dragon. The commotion did not subside even in the morning.

Ronnie finished checking his ammunition first and sat down on a small pile of rocks and closed his eyes, enjoying the moments of peace. Barahu sat beside him, while Faolandan watched enviously and tried to avert his magnetized gaze from the disconcerting picture. When the other players were ready, Yleen ordered them to follow each other in a column. The players of the Top Secret guild looked at each other with their eyelids half-closed. Vvy barely shook his head to the side.

“Latludious will lead the group. He’ll light the way and, in case of danger, protect himself with a magic shield. Then Vvy, followed by me, Faolandan, Ronnie, and Illyseh at the end.”

When the group entered the dungeon, everyone was silent. Tension accompanied every step. Barahu alone did not care about people’s problems or relationships. He ran around Ronnie with a cheerful face full of drool and glowing red eyes trotting around, then stopped at some rock, sniffed around for prey, and caught up with the others.

The tunnel was narrow. Faolandan had to move in a half-crouch because of his enormous size. The darkness ahead, and the last gray light, was disappearing behind. Water squelched under their feet. Their shoes got stuck in the mud. The further the group progressed, the colder the air felt. Steam was billowing from the mouths of every member of the squad. The cold was piercing their body to the point of shivering.

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“It’s strange,” Yleen said. “When I was young, I worked in the mines for a short time, but one thing I will never forget is the air. There was a catastrophic lack of air. It was always boiling and stuffy inside. But in here it is the opposite! How could it be? Air vents don’t have the same effect.”

“There’s magic everywhere,” Latludious replied. “That’s the answer to all questions.”

They fell silent. The road curved left and right. The group went down and back up. Not a sound, only footsteps: the creaky metallic clatter of tank’s lath sabatons, the nasty creak of strike force’s thick rubber military boots, and the noiseless rustle of senior officers and magician’s light shoes. After another turn in the light of the white sphere, cobwebs decorated every corner on the ceiling, and the first stones appeared underfoot, which Vvy immediately tripped over and cursed.

The tunnel grew wider and higher as time went on. Now there was enough room to maneuver in case of an attack, thought Ronnie. The smoothed surface of walls and ceilings replaced the roughly excavated tunnel, and in the corners, torches burned with perpetual flames that lit the way. Latludious extinguished the orb and warned that the players reported they died in these places. They set up the self-deploying scanners, activated them so that the first passageway appeared on the maps, and moved on.

Wooden braces separated this section of the tunnel. In one of these sections, they encountered the first archaic sculptures, abandoned and horrifying heads of dwarfs with half-destroyed helmets, empty eye sockets, and dangling chains. A black haze crept up from the opposite edge of the bend. Latludious noticed it and stopped the squad with a gesture. Everyone unsheathed their weapons and braced themselves.

Ronnie shuddered when he heard water and turned his head to the right. He saw drops falling from the ceiling onto the top of one stone head. There, in the place where the brains should be, a small puddle filled the void, from which a thin stream flowed out. Its crystal, clear water lined the stone eyebrows, passed over the statue’s cheeks, and fell to the ground from its chin.

The mage created a tracking eye out of the damp earth and sent it forward to scout the area. Alas, the fog was too thick, he could not see anything. He looked at Vvy, and he went first, the shield stretched forward. From the front came the sound of wind or monsters howling. Yleen activated the thermal vision in his helmet but found nothing.

In oppressive ignorance, squeezed by the tense atmosphere, they walked for about an hour, and soon the fog cleared. Latludious did not doubt its magical origin. The only question was why nothing had ever attacked them. The tunnel grew larger, reaching an eye-level height of five meters. They entered a new section, with parallelepiped-shaped obsidian pillars on each side and in the center of the road, skulls with black spots on the frontal lobe and a steel mask replacing the lower jaw on the floor. In addition, they found two passageways. The one on the right was small and would have been perfect for some gnome. The one in front was tall and large. They agreed to call it the “Main Passage”. An eerie howl from the side tunnel blew past them with a whiff of wind and fell silent. Then Ronnie and the others heard a burst of strange, grim laughter. Everyone stopped.

“What now?” Vvy asked.

“I’ll make a protective field around us. If the monsters are of the unconscious type, they’re bound to get through to us. In that case, let’s fight back.”

Faolandan hung a DP-27 with a silencer on his back and grabbed the wrist of his right hand and asked:

“What if it’s a conscious type?”

No one wanted to answer. Yleen took the initiative and said:

“In that case, we’ll have to rely on our armor and our own reaction, because they will attack first.”