Eli Grady slumped over his kitchen table, staring at a steaming mug of coffee that looked as tired as he felt.
The cup, adorned with the logo of some tech startup he couldn’t remember applying to, seemed to mock him.
“World’s Okayest Employee,” it read. Accurate, if not generous.
Outside, the gray sky threatened rain, which Eli figured would just add to his day’s growing list of inconveniences.
First, his toaster betrayed him by burning his last slice of bread. Then, his neighbor’s insufferable cat, Mr. Meowington,
vomited on his doorstep again. And now, the cherry on top: an email from his boss asking for the fifth rewrite of a
project nobody cared about. “Corporate synergy,” they’d said. Whatever that meant.
“Another day in paradise,” Eli muttered, dragging his feet to the couch. His plan for the weekend was simple:
avoid human contact and lose himself in whatever sci-fi series the streaming algorithm threw at him.
That’s when it happened.
The air shimmered like a heatwave, and the room suddenly felt too small, too bright. His coffee mug trembled,
spilling its contents onto the table. The walls of his apartment flickered, then stretched unnaturally, as if reality
itself were buffering. A booming voice erupted from nowhere and everywhere at once.
“WELCOME, CONTESTANTS, TO THE APOCALYPSE SURVIVAL SIMULATOR!”
Eli froze mid-sip, coffee dribbling down his chin. “What the hell?”
“THIS IS YOUR CHANCE TO PROVE YOUR WORTHINESS. ONLY THE STRONG SHALL SURVIVE. ONLY THE CLEVER SHALL RISE.
AND ONLY THE LUCKY SHALL LIVE TO SEE TOMORROW.”
Eli blinked, wondering if this was some elaborate prank. Then his TV sparked to life, displaying a horrifyingly
cheerful mascot—a grinning pixelated cube named System Steve. Steve waved an unsettlingly realistic hand.
“Hi there!” Steve chirped. “Don’t worry, folks, it’s all part of the fun! Your world has been chosen to participate in
our brand-new, totally-not-deadly dungeon experience! Please remain calm as we prepare the playing field.”
Eli stared at the screen. “I... I didn’t sign up for this.”
Steve’s grin widened. “Nobody did!”
And with that, the world outside his window dissolved into chaos
Eli stumbled back from the couch as his apartment began to collapse in on itself—or rather, shift into something entirely different.
The carpet under his feet morphed into cold stone, the beige walls twisted into jagged black bricks, and his once pitifully small
window expanded into a gaping archway revealing... utter chaos.
Outside, the street was unrecognizable. Where his crumbling apartment complex once stood, jagged towers of metal and stone
rose into the stormy sky. Neon lights flickered with nonsensical advertisements—“+5% Stamina Fries!” and “Karen’s Krusty Kitchen: Now Hiring!”—while blood-red banners flapped violently in the wind, emblazoned with a crest of a laughing skull. Giant creatures,
half-monster and half-machine, lumbered through the streets, their footsteps shaking the ground like an earthquake.
Eli peeked out of the archway, squinting at the street below. A group of people—neighbors, coworkers, random strangers—were sprinting down the street, chased by what appeared to be a humanoid vending machine. The machine’s lid flapped open and shut, launching spiked soda cans like grenades. One unlucky soul tripped over a loose cobblestone, only to be promptly engulfed by a cloud of fizzy carnage.
“Right,” Eli muttered. “Definitely not just a dream.”
“HELLO AGAIN, CONTESTANTS!” System Steve’s cheerful voice boomed through the air like an overenthusiastic infomercial host.
“Your first challenge is to reach the nearest safe zone without dying horribly. Should you succeed, you’ll earn access to healing facilities, starter equipment, and—if you’re lucky—delicious food!”
The pixelated mascot’s face appeared on every surface, from glowing street signs to the side of a nearby monster’s leg. Steve’s unblinking smile did little to comfort Eli.
“Failure,” Steve added in a chipper tone, “is highly discouraged. Remember: the longer you survive, the more exciting things get!”
Eli stared in stunned silence as his kitchen table—his last bastion of normalcy—collapsed into a pile of rubble, exposing a hidden
trapdoor. A glowing arrow appeared in midair, pointing straight at it. “STEP INSIDE FOR YOUR TUTORIAL EXPERIENCE,” a robotic voice announced.
“Oh, sure,” Eli grumbled, clutching his head. “Let’s just dive right into the hell-pit. Because that’s always a great idea.”
As the vending machine monster lobbed another explosive soda can outside, Eli decided he didn’t have much of a choice. With a
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
deep breath and an impressive string of profanity, he opened the trapdoor and climbed inside.
The tunnel below was dimly lit, with glowing lines of code pulsing along the walls like veins. The air smelled faintly of burning
rubber, and the faint hum of machinery echoed around him. Eli kept moving, carefully avoiding what appeared to be pressure
plates on the floor. He wasn’t about to end his life by triggering some death trap involving laser beams or—knowing his luck— giant staplers.
The glowing arrow reappeared, leading him to a large, circular room. At its center was a podium with a large, glowing orb.
Hovering next to it was a screen displaying System Steve, who was now holding a clipboard and wearing a comically oversized pair of glasses.
“Welcome to the Tutorial Chamber, Eli Grady!” Steve announced. “Before you ask: yes, we know your name. No, you can’t opt-out.”
“I figured,” Eli deadpanned. “Let me guess. You’re about to tell me how ‘fun’ this is going to be.”
Steve ignored the sarcasm, gesturing to the glowing orb. “This is your Personal Starting Package™! Inside, you’ll find items tailored
to your unique skillset and personality. Please note: refunds are not available. Any attempt to reject your assigned gear will result in immediate vaporization!”
Eli sighed and reached for the orb. It pulsed once, then exploded into a shower of light. When the glow faded, he found himselF
holding... a stapler.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he muttered.
“Congratulations!” Steve chirped. “You’ve unlocked the *Bureaucrat Starter Kit!* Remember: in the right hands, even the humblest tools can become instruments of destruction!”
Eli stared at the stapler in disbelief. “I’m going to die.”
Steve beamed. “Not with that attitude! Now, on to your first real challenge...
The glowing orb vanished, leaving Eli standing in the middle of the tutorial chamber clutching a stapler.
He turned it over in his hands, half-expecting it to transform into a sword or shoot laser beams. It did neither.
“Alright,” Eli said, glancing around the empty room. “Where’s the part where you tell me this is all a joke?”
“Ah, the Denial Phase,” System Steve said, hovering closer on the screen. “A classic response! Now, if you’re done
sulking, we have a challenge to complete!”
Before Eli could argue, the walls of the chamber began to tremble. Sections of the floor shifted, forming uneven tiles
and deep chasms. The ceiling split open, and from the darkness above, something began to descend: a giant pair of glowing
red eyes and the unmistakable sound of metal grinding against metal.
“Your first adversary,” Steve announced, “is the mighty Office Golem!”
With a loud crash, the creature landed in front of Eli. It was a monstrosity cobbled together from what appeared to be
office supplies—a hulking mass of filing cabinets, broken printers, and stacks of dusty paperwork. Its "arms" were
massive staplers, and its “head” was a computer monitor displaying an angry emoji.
Eli stared at it. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
The Office Golem roared, spewing a cloud of toner dust into the air. A status bar appeared above its head, reading:
**Boss: Office Golem (Level 3)**
Steve’s voice chirped from the side. “Good luck! Remember: the key to survival is creativity, persistence, and a complete disregard for your own dignity.”
The golem lunged, one massive stapler-arm slamming down inches from Eli’s head. He scrambled backward, clutching his
pitiful stapler like a security blanket. “How am I supposed to fight that thing?”
“Your *Bureaucrat Starter Kit* includes all the tools you need,” Steve replied helpfully. “Just believe in yourself!”
“Belief isn’t going to help me beat a stapler kaiju!”
The golem swiped again, this time grazing Eli’s shoulder. He stumbled, nearly losing his footing as the floor cracked
beneath him. Desperation kicked in. He ducked behind a crumbling pillar, breathing hard.
Think, Eli. How do you defeat an office monster?
His eyes darted to the stacks of paperwork spilling from the golem’s chest. Then it hit him. The creature wasn’t just made of office supplies—it *ran* on them.
Grinning despite himself, Eli rummaged through the starter pack hanging at his waist. Alongside the stapler, there was
a stack of blank forms labeled **Standard Complaint Forms: Version 37B.**
“Hey, big guy!” Eli shouted, stepping out from behind the pillar. “You look like you could use some paperwork!”
The golem hesitated, its glowing eyes narrowing. Eli hurled a form at its chest. The paper slapped against its metal surface, sticking there like a taunt.
The golem roared and charged, but Eli was ready. He dodged to the side, grabbing more forms from the pack. Each one he
threw seemed to slow the creature down, its movements becoming jerky and disorganized.
“That’s right,” Eli muttered, feeling a spark of confidence for the first time. “Nobody likes bureaucracy.”
With one final throw, Eli hit the golem square in the face, the paper lodging itself in the cracks of its monitor-head.
The creature froze mid-step, its status bar flashing red. Then, with a
sputtering whine, it collapsed into a pile of useless junk.
The room fell silent.
“Congratulations!” Steve’s voice rang out, startling Eli. “You’ve successfully defeated your first boss! I knew you
could do it. Well, mostly.”
Eli stared at the remains of the golem, breathing hard. “I can’t believe that worked.”
Steve’s face appeared on the nearest wall, looking as smug as ever. “And now, for your reward...”
A treasure chest materialized in the center of the room, glowing faintly. Eli approached it cautiously, half-expecting
it to sprout legs and attack him. When it didn’t, he opened the lid.
Inside was a single item: a tie. Not just any tie, though—this one shimmered with a faint golden light. Its description
read: **Corporate Tie of Authority: Increases Persuasion by 15% and Reduces NPC Aggression.**
Eli held it up, squinting. “Seriously?”
“Every hero starts somewhere,” Steve said. “Now, onward to Level One!”
Before Eli could protest, the floor beneath him gave way, sending him tumbling into the abyss.
Eli hit the ground with an unceremonious thud, landing face-first on a patch of uneven cobblestone. Groaning, he rolled onto his back and blinked up at a swirling vortex of storm clouds high above. Somewhere in the distance, a monstrous roar echoed, followed by what sounded suspiciously like a giggling hyena.
“Fantastic,” Eli muttered, sitting up. “First a stapler monster, and now—” He froze mid-sentence.
The landscape before him was a twisted parody of a medieval town square. Half-crumbled buildings lined the streets, their walls covered in flickering neon signs advertising items like +5 Health Pies and The Potion Depot: Buy 1, Get 1 Doom Free! A statue in the center of the square depicted a knight locked in combat with what looked like a giant rubber duck. The knight was losing.
System Steve’s face appeared on a billboard overhead. “Welcome to Level One, Contestants! This quaint little hamlet has everything you need: shops, challenges, and of course, monsters! Your first objective: Survive the Gauntlet to reach the first Safe Room!”
As if on cue, a loud metallic grinding sound drew Eli’s attention to a nearby alleyway. Out stepped a hulking creature that looked like a cross between a gorilla and a garbage truck. Its glowing red eyes locked onto Eli, and a growl rumbled from its rusted frame.
“Oh, come on,” Eli groaned. “I just got here!”
The creature charged, its massive fists pounding the cobblestones as it closed the distance. Eli scrambled to his feet and bolted, weaving between overturned carts and piles of rubble. Behind him, the garbage-gorilla roared, smashing everything in its path.
“Any tips, Steve?!” Eli shouted, ducking under a falling lamppost.
“Run faster!” Steve replied cheerfully, his face now displayed on a passing hot dog cart.
Eli cursed under his breath and rounded a corner, only to find himself face-to-face with another contestant—a wiry teenager armed with a comically large mallet. The kid’s eyes widened when he saw Eli.
“Dude, behind you!” the kid shouted.
“I know!” Eli snapped, sidestepping as the garbage-gorilla barreled past. The teenager swung his mallet with a grunt, connecting with the creature’s side. It staggered but didn’t fall, its red eyes blazing brighter.
“Great,” Eli muttered. “Now it’s angry.”
The gorilla lunged at the kid, who yelped and dove behind a stack of crates. Eli glanced around desperately, spotting a precariously hanging sign above the creature’s head. Without thinking, he grabbed a nearby rock and hurled it at the sign’s rusty chain. The rock hit its mark, and the sign—Karen’s Krusty Kitchen: Now Hiring!—came crashing down, flattening the gorilla.
The kid peeked out from behind the crates. “Whoa. That was awesome!”
“Awesome isn’t the word I’d use,” Eli replied, brushing dirt off his shirt. “Effective, maybe.”
Before the kid could respond, Steve’s voice boomed from the sky. “Congratulations, Contestants! You’ve survived your first encounter! As a reward, you’ve each earned 10 XP!”
Eli raised an eyebrow. “XP? What am I, in a video game?”
“Technically, yes,” Steve said, his face appearing on a nearby fountain. “Now, I suggest you hurry along. The Safe Room won’t stay open forever!”
The teenager stood and offered Eli a hand. “I’m Jake, by the way. You saved my butt back there.”
“Eli,” he replied, shaking the kid’s hand. “And don’t mention it. Seriously, don’t mention it. I have no idea what I’m doing.”
Together, they made their way down the chaotic streets, dodging smaller monsters and looters. At one point, a chicken with glowing eyes squawked menacingly at them, but Eli waved it off with his stapler, and it clucked angrily before wandering away.
Finally, they spotted the Safe Room—a neon-lit fast-food joint with a flickering sign that read Karen’s Krusty Kitchen. The sight was both ridiculous and oddly comforting.
Eli pushed open the door, and a wave of warm, greasy air hit him. Inside, other contestants were scattered across the room, munching on burgers and fries while a giant TV screen played the day’s highlights.
Steve’s pixelated face appeared on the TV. “Welcome to your first Safe Room! Here, you can rest, recover, and enjoy our world-famous Dungeon Deluxe Combo™! Don’t forget to check out the recap reel to see how your fellow contestants are faring—or not!”
Eli and Jake exchanged a glance.
“This is insane,” Eli said, collapsing into a booth. “But at least the fries smell good.”
“Better than getting crushed by a garbage monster,” Jake replied, grabbing a menu.
Eli leaned back and closed his eyes, trying to process the insanity of the day. If this was just Level One, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know what came next.