Weaving lies is like weaving a web—delicate, intricate, and trapping everyone who touches it, even the weaver. Colt had been snared in his mother’s webs for years, untangling them even now. The difference between weaving a web of lies and a real spider web was that you could get caught in a web of lies just as easily as your prey.

Colt took in the ‘Endless Alleys Dungeon’ around them.

A lie could go only so far in a place like this. The monsters they’d just fought. Nate scrunched up his face, fearing that the implications of all this were landing similarly. Sure, Colt felt afraid, too. But there was too much work to be done for him to dwell on it.

This wasn’t ideal, but as the shadows shifted in the endless twists around them, as he looked at those corners that he knew would spiral out in a maze, he could use a friend just based on the name of this place. Someone like Nate ran in to help people. If he had to trust someone in that kitchen, he could do much worse than a person like that.

“I did. And I gained a skill called Inspect. It gives you additional information when you focus on things. Those monsters are called kobolds. And... apparently, we're in something called the 'Endless Alleys Dungeon.' That makes sense, right? Leveling up, all that—we have to beat it to get out. Like a game.” Colt laid it out, crossing his arms.

They’d stopped moving back toward the kitchen. Both of them kept scanning for more Kobolds—and god, Nate’s arm must be hurting bad. Nate's knuckles turned white on the pipe, and his breaths were short and shallow, though he forced his face into a stoic mask. Colt caught himself glancing into the dark corners, his churned at every shifting shadow.

“So we’re in a combat zone, in some sorta video game.”

“…Combat zone?”

“War zone,” Nate clarified, gesturing towards the alleys, his gaze darting between them. “Urban combat’s a nightmare, even in training. If this ‘dungeon’ is anything like that, we’re in for it.”

After a beat of silence.

“Kobolds, huh? How’d you get that ‘inspect’ skill?”

“I got it from focusing on my knife while I was trying to pick out my weapon, wondering if it was a better weapon for me than that pipe you have. Then, it kind of appeared as a box. Like the Status screen.” Colt answered.

Nate paused, holding his pipe out in front of him. His eyes narrowed, and seconds passed. His gaze was intense as he stared at the chunk of metal—almost like a stern father telling the pipe he was disappointed with it. Suddenly, his expression melted away.

“Got it.”

Colt was impressed. Information was power, and Nate had picked up the Inspect skill as quickly as he had. It made sense—but it also raised a question. If Inspect let him see Nate’s stats, what else could people learn about him? And what if they leveled faster? The thought churned uneasily in his mind.

He focused on Nate.

———

Name: Nate | Race: Basic Human

Class: Pending

Level: 3

This is a basic human with a pending class selection; he has yet to begin to walk on any path of enlightenment. He has a past in the Army that he dislikes talking about much. Recently he’s worked as a cook for the last year but has grown increasingly disillusioned with the service industry.

Inspect (Basic) has gained a level!

———

Colt blinked as he processed the information, feeling euphoric at the gain in Inspect. It was a powerful tool, and using it on another person seemed to give information that reminded him of the status screen, adding a tiny bit of the information below.

Paths of enlightenment?

More hints, he assumed, like the bit of information he pulled from the Kobold’s corpse about this dungeon. Another thing, too, was it added that Nate was tired of working in the restaurant… Not surprising, given they were in a dead-end job. From everything Colt had seen, the guy had been as affable as ever whenever they worked. Easygoing and steady despite the stressful work environment.

“We need to warn the others before it’s too late.” Nate said, his arms crossed as time ticked by; Colt had gone silent as he thought. That, however, was like Nate had poured cold water on him, sending a shiver down his spine.

Nate was right; they couldn’t sit out here forever, and his arm had to hurt. It was better to treat it soon. And every second out here was more of a risk of Kobolds coming out and attacking. Still.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Colt said.

“We’re in deep, in unknown territory, with hostiles everywhere. We need every man we can get; we fought five of those things. What if twenty come next time—a hundred? We don’t know the enemy’s numbers. We don’t know how big this place is. Assuming you’re right about us being in a video game and having to ‘beat’ this ‘dungeon,’ the more trained our people are, the better.”

“I agree, and we should tell them. Eventually, we’re at a higher level than everyone else, but not by much. What happens if Bill gets more levels, or Chef? What if there’s no more food? What do you think those two will do if they have more power than everyone else? Do you think they’ll work to make sure we’re all safe and get through this? I don’t. I think they’ll do whatever is best for themselves, even if it means screwing everyone else over. I know we haven’t talked much before now, but you ran into danger to help me. That says everything about the kind of guy you are; we both know what kind of people they are.”

Colt made his argument, wondering if it would work. But damn, he had to try. If it failed, he might have to stay out here and risk gaining more levels on his own, even if it could end with him dying.

He refused to put his future in the hands of people like Chef and Bill. Never again.

“I don’t like Bill. Donny, too, for that matter—I don’t think you gotta worry about Donny being a danger; when reality hits like the truck it is, the man’s gonna crumble. But Bill? You’re right. I don’t like his eyes; I’ve seen those eyes before. Cindy’s gonna do what he says, too. Don’t wanna be crass, but the two are a… Thing.”

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

Well, that gossip was new. Cindy was a skinny cook with long dark hair that was always pulled back in a ponytail. She loved her dark eyeshadow. She was always the second voice behind Chef hurling insults when critical of other people’s work in the kitchen.

Nate let out a deep sigh.

“Damn. What a mess. Good point. You’re level five, and I’m three? How much do those stat points change you anyway, assuming it’s real?”

He just used his inspect on me, too. Colt had a tiny jolt; he would have told him had he asked. Did he get any other information than that?

It was a lesson not to forget. Anyone with inspect could see his level, and as of now, without knowing the limits, what else? Can I counter it?

Nothing came up, but it was another information point to tuck away. The second anyone else got that skill, they’d see his level.

“They do have an effect. I hit harder; I feel way less winded. I can tell that much, but as far as I found, it didn’t explain the exact difference anywhere. You can also gain them outside of levels, which was a surprise to me. How far this skill system goes, or what ‘classes’ will look like, I’ve got no idea.” Colt took a deep breath, giving away the information, which was like pulling teeth to some part of him, but he needed a reliable ally. In Nate, he was starting to see that.

Nate tapped against his jaw, his eyes firmed. “Alrighty then. We keep our mouths shut about levels and get my arm patched up in the kitchen. I’ll put my points into endurance. I tested with one point already, and it helped with the pain. One last thing: we need to bring someone else in; in situations like this, even one more set of hands and eyes is life and death. You pick’em, I’ll worry about getting better. Then, in an hour, we’ll head back out.”

Colt rolled his shoulders and took one last look at the outside alleyway. They needed to test getting through doors and see if the dungeon boss’s prediction was correct. In about a day, they’d see what ‘Classes’ were and how that changed the situation. Getting as big of a foot forward as possible was the best plan.

Above all else, they needed to survive. There was a lot to do, and so many unknowns and it was overwhelming as he reviewed the list in his head.

“It’s a plan. Let’s figure out how to deal with this place and get stronger.” Colt offered his hand for a shake—Nate leaned in and grabbed his wrist, his eyes earnest.

“As of now, we’re brothers, alright? We’re gonna get through this hell together.”

“Done,” Colt promised.

Like that, the Endless Alleys seemed all that less intimidating to conquer.

In complete silence, they made the rest of the way back to the kitchen; there was tension as they moved. Each step Colt took was on the balls of his heels, his eyes scanning the darkness, wondering if the fight would draw even more of those things out. Even from here, now, he could smell kobold blood.

When they entered the kitchen, the place had transformed. More than a few pans were now on the ground, spilled red tomato sauce like blood from where someone threw a pan and a couple of broken plates against the wall. Chef was in a chair near the back, his side wrapped in a bandage. Somehow, the man had gotten hold of two kitchen knives and was holding them like any of the cooks filtering by would attack him. Bill stood nearby, his hands tucked behind his back, watching like a hawk.

“Well?” Donny asked, not even waiting for the door to close behind them.

Nate showed his arm, “It’s little furry monsters like Colt said. They got me, too. We’re gonna head out in an hour to get a better look at the situation. It was hard to tell. Need to get patched up first.”

“Jesus, again? What is going on out there?” Jimmy said the man had been putting away the medical kit in the corner. He paused and then got right back to unpacking, waving Nate over.

“Monsters.” Nate said, keeping it terse, “We keep the kitchen shut for now.”

“We?” Donny asked, leaning forward, eyes darting at the cooks in the kitchen.

“Me and him, and someone else.” Colt cut in.

“Bullshit, you’re worth less than nothing—I got hurt out there with you, and so did Nate. Why on God’s green earth would we trust you to go out there again? You can’t protect anybody.” Donny demanded.

“I know reality has gone a little sideways, but we all have eyes, right? I saved you from that monster. You do realize that?”

“Saved? If you saved me, would I have all these bite marks?”

“If I hadn’t saved you, you’d be dead.” Colt said, his voice growing louder. Why won’t he just shut up for once?

Bill’s jaw worked as he stood by Chef; his nose curled as Colt said he’d saved Chef. But Bill kept silent, letting the big bad tyrant of the kitchen speak for him. Colt took in the scene—at the chubby man with his double knives holding them in a way that was just as likely to stab himself as someone else, all Colt could think was…

Why was I so afraid of him?

“If it’s so dangerous outside, sending out people who can handle themselves is important. Who here has been in a fight?” Bill spoke, eyes scanning the kitchen. “I have. I can handle myself. You were in the army, right, Nate?”

Nate gave a slight nod to that; Jimmy was already working on his arm, pulling out alcohol and cleaning the wound. The guy’s eyes were a little less red now. Crazy what a situation like this can do to sober someone up.

“Right. So me and Nate. Cindy and Sarah are women, so they’re out; Jimmy’s still high.” he said pointedly, looking away from the two female cooks.

Cindy said nothing, but the frown she gave said it all. Sarah, though, gave him a dark scowl and a loud “Fuck you.”

Sarah had full sleeves of tattoos on both arms and kept her hair cut short, and she always had the kind of look in her eyes that said, ‘Say something to me, and I’ll break your bones.’ For that reason, Colt had never said anything to her at all.

Bill stalked forward, looming over Sarah like a thundercloud. “Think you’re strong enough to take a man? Go ahead, prove it.” His voice was low, dangerous, his fists clenching at his sides.

Sarah’s lips curled into a smirk, her stance shifting subtly. Her fists came up, ready. Colt noticed the way her weight shifted onto her back foot, her shoulders square. It wasn’t just bravado—she knew what she was doing.

“You beg nice, and I may think about letting you come along as a cheerleader. Colt’s a fuck up, so that leaves Logan.”

Nate’s voice cut through like a knife. “No.”

“No?”

“No,” Nate said.

“Is the wound too bad? I understand, I guess we can take Jimmy—“ Bill stepped away from Sarah, confused, as he turned his attention back to Nate.

Nate leaned back against the wall, his tone steady despite the twitch in his jaw. "Ten of those things swarmed us," he said and lied as he stared down Bill. "More are coming. You wanna play hero, go right ahead. But I’m going with Colt. And we know what we’re doing. He’s been out there twice. He saved my life and saved Chef’s life. We’ll be heading out in an hour. And he can pick who we go out with.”

Bill went quiet after that, working his jaw, his eyes never leaving Colt as cold anger boiled. Anyone could see the gears turning in his head. Chef started to bitch and moan like always.

Colt took a deep breath, filled with relief to have Nate on his side. He looked at the people left to choose from.

Colt scanned the room, his gaze lingering on each face. Cindy, Sarah, Jimmy, Logan—who could he trust to step into the dungeon? His mind whirred, calculating. But one thing was certain: survival depended on making the right call.

As he looked around, Bill caught his eyes. Without saying a word, without anyone in the kitchen catching it, Bill brought a finger to his throat and made a ‘slit’ motion, eyes burning into him. It was as good a declaration of war as any.

A faint metallic clatter echoed in the alley beyond as he turned toward the door. His gut twisted. The dungeon wasn’t done with them yet.