"I don't know what the hell that thing is," Sean Lemaire shouted, "but it's not a human, and you can't trust it!"

For her part, Sharon was not so certain. That thing had claimed to be a human, implausible though that might sound. It certainly looked like a human... and it talked like one, too. If it wasn't a human, she had to admit that it made for an incredibly good facsimile of one.

Apparently sharing her skepticism of the man's analytic capabilities, Ken Kaneko just rolled his eyes at the increasingly agitated outbursts rather than dignifying them with a response.

"Are you recording all this?"

The question was voiced softly, spoken at barely above a whisper – but it came from directly beside her ear, making her jump in fright. She let out a highly undignified squeak, which the other Heroes surrounding her fortunately seemed too distracted to take note of, and whirled to face the woman who had silently crept up behind her.

"Jeez, Naomi, what the fuck? You almost gave me a heart attack!"

Naomi Lemaire didn't apologize for starling her, or bother to explain herself. Instead, she fixed her with an unusually serious look and asked again, "You're taping this, right?"

"Oh!" Maybe she just wanted to make sure the evidence from the expedition would be properly preserved and cataloged. That was a reasonable concern, Sharon realized, looking down at the equipment harness she wore over her jacket. A red light on the camcorder indicated it was on and filming. The cassette deck was connected to the microphone and spinning away. Nodding in satisfaction that everything seemed to be in working order, she gave the party's thief a thumbs-up. "Yeah, pretty sure I'm getting all of this. Uh... thanks for asking?"

In reply, Naomi gave her a brief, cryptic smile before turning her gaze back to the motionless ranks of Dungeon Monsters standing statue-like before them.

"...told you, I only want Sean and Naomi," the boss Monster finished, spreading his hands in what she considered a convincingly-humanlike speaking gesture.

"Sure, sure, you said that already," Ken drawled in response, waving the paper message they'd found waiting for them in the Dungeon's entrance. "But you haven't explained what's in it for me."

That, it seemed, was the last straw for Sean. Shoving his way past the rest of the party, he stomped his way towards the raid captain.

With a sigh, Sharon glanced away, not terribly interested in whatever interpersonal drama was going on between them. It wasn't her problem, and it wasn't why she was here. Her attention was quickly drawn back to studying the fascinating Dungeon Monsters.

She'd never encountered something quite like them. Obviously, since she'd never been inside a Dungeon before today. But she'd never read about anyone encountering something quite like them, either, and that was a much bigger deal.

Dungeons had been analyzed and cataloged for years now, and there was a considerable body of work about them. Of course, gaps existed, especially when discussing the higher Levels, but by now it was becoming rare to find something that had no existing precedent.

Still, while not entirely unheard of, the frequency of encounters with humanoid Dungeon Monsters was extremely low. Consequently, the details of their appearance and habits remained quite spotty. Like so many aspects of her discipline, data on them was frustratingly sparse, limited to verbal reports and after-action debriefings from Heroes in the field... sources that had proven to be less than completely reliable in the past.

And Monsters capable of communicating, even in a rudimentary fashion? There'd been persistent rumors, going back as far as 1989 when the first Dungeons appeared, but nothing more. In academic circles, the intelligence of Dungeon Monsters was a subject of ongoing (and sometimes extremely contentious) debate. Research papers were constantly published back and forth, their authors taking cheap shots at one another in the abstracts for baseless speculation, neither side making any progress on convincing the other.

Until now. Right in front of her own eyes, she was staring at evidence – irrefutable evidence – that would settle so many of the questions in her discipline once and for all.

The talking Monster at the center of the formation could pass for a human, she supposed, if not for the glowing eyes marking it as a boss Monster. None of its other visual features would distinguish it from an ordinary member of her species.

Well, a handsome member of her species, anyway. Tall, although not so tall that it would raise questions. Tan complexion, dark hair, sharp facial features, an athletic build. All features that fell comfortably within the typical range of human variation. It would be shocking, if it wasn't so... normal.

It – he, she decided, even though it wasn't good practice for her to anthropomorphize an unknown lifeform. He was dressed in an elaborately embroidered gold robe, with long billowing sleeves and a hem nearly reaching the floor, like something you'd see in an old kung-fu movie.

As for the dozen Monsters arranged behind him, those were... somewhat less ordinary. She rotated slowly in place, making sure to get all of them with the video camera. They occasionally drew a breath, or blinked, and that was the only indication that they were alive. Their appearance was still recognizably humanoid, to the point where it would strain disbelief for them to be evolutionarily unrelated, but certainly not close enough that one could be mistaken for a human.

They were red, for one thing. Not ruddy, not dark-complexioned, not sunburnt, but a vibrant almost-pink shade somewhere between rose and magenta.

Their eye colors were equally distinctive, with black sclera instead of white, and pale silver irises.

And then there were the horns. Although she was no biologist, she could say with a fair degree of certainty that humans did not, typically, exhibit such a characteristic. A pair of short, curved bone points emerged from the Monsters' blonde hair at roughly the level of their temples.

An observer with a less scientifically-inclined mind might be tempted to identify them as devils, or demons, or something along those lines. Sharon, of course, refrained from uneducated guesswork about what their peculiar, distinctive appearance might mean.

Even though an Inspection called each of them a "Cambion Warrior".

Even though the Dungeon they had entered was named – in English! – as the "Netherworld Manor".

She shook her head to clear it. I am not going to speculate.

The last of the Monsters stood beside and apart from the rest, and she turned her scrutiny to that one. Also female, or at least presenting as such, attired in similar fashion, but taller and more powerfully-built than the rest, with four large, sweeping horns instead of two.

Speaking quietly into the microphone, she continued adding her own observations to the video recording, taking care to limit herself to conclusive statements and avoid any pointless conjectures.

A rising shout jerked her out of her study.

"– should just kill it and get out of here! This whole Dungeon is fucked up!"

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She glanced up just in time to see Sean get sent stumbling backwards into the rest of the party. Commotion and further shouting followed.

Then a [Lightning Bolt] blasted across the room, striking the talking boss Monster directly in the chest.

Everything went momentarily still as the surprised Monster collapsed backwards. Dead, or merely stunned, she couldn't tell.

"Oh," Sharon said, "that's not good."

Which was an understatement. Although they held an advantage in terms of their Levels, the Hero party was considerably outnumbered. Because they had yet to show any signs of hostility, it was all too easy to forget that they were still Dungeon Monsters, and innately dangerous.

"Wait!" Ken's voice, she thought, although it was hard to be certain with so many others overlapping. "Hold fire, damn it! Hold fire!"

"We're under attack!"

"Get 'em!"

"Watch out!"

The tall female Monster snapped an order in some unfamiliar language, causing the rest to spring into action. Those in the lead rank immediately stepped forward. Marching in step with their banded wood shields held as a solid wall before them, they gave the impression of a Roman legion – somehow managing to look quite dangerous despite the incongruity between their militaristic attitude and their bizarre, revealing outfits.

Sharon scrambled backwards, attempting to move out of the line of fire as Abilities began to activate on both sides of the room in rapid, bewildering sequence. Knowing what they were in an intellectual sense, she quickly discovered, wasn't actually all that much help in sorting out the chaos of a real battle.

The [Lightning Bolt] had come from Shawn Keyes, she was certain, as he was the only member of the Party with a Core capable of producing it. What he'd hoped to achieve by activating it, she had no idea. In reply, the Dungeon Monsters had launched a salvo of some other ability, each use generating a shotgun blast of fist-sized flaming stones. That meant some of the Monsters had a «Core (Volcano)» or «Core (Phoenix)», or possibly «Core (Meteor)» – bad news, whichever it ended up being.

Particularly if you were a Level 1 Hero with an F-Ranked Core who happened to be in the Ability's line of fire.

Most of the stones vanished as they struck a rippling, watery curtain that sprang up around the Hero party. Created by D'Shaun Cunningham, the other striker, she recognized the transparent wall as [Null Field], an Ability of his exceptionally rare «Core (Void)» that could cancel out other Abilities intersecting it... for a brief time.

That effect would be a double-edged sword, of course, as [Null Field] had no ability to distinguish between hostile and friendly Abilities – a characteristic which it demonstrated by swallowing a glowing white beam sent in the other direction a second later. She thought it had come from Keyes, which would make it a [Heat Ray], but she wasn't sure.

A handful of blazing projectiles passed above the barrier instead of being absorbed by it, exploding against the walls and ceiling in a series of deafening thunderous cracks. Debris scattered, and choking clouds of smoke filled their side of the room.

"Fall back to the Portal!" That one was definitely Ken, still struggling to take charge of the situation. "Fall back!"

As if in reply, another command was shouted in the same unknown language as before, and another wave of missiles burst out of the cloud of dust, preceded by a series of sharp whistles and clacks. Shockingly, these objects weren't stopped, or even slowed down, by the [Null Field] as they passed through it.

Did that mean they weren't Abilities, but some kind of physical attack?

One buried itself in Cunningham's throat, causing the [Null Field] to shimmer and then vanish. Several more struck Keyes, sending him tumbling limply to the ground. Sean stepped in front of Naomi, shielding her – and, inadvertently, also protecting Sharon – with the towering bulk of his own body. Some combination of the man's Cores and Attributes allowed him to remain standing. She couldn't see what happened to Ken, but a pained grunt from his direction indicated he hadn't escaped unscathed.

More whistling and clattering warned of another incoming barrage.

With a howl, the air in the room instantly whipped into a raging tempest, pushing her back several steps. That was Ken's [Windstorm], she was certain. Blown wildly off-course by the last-second use of his Ability, the attacks thudded into the wood floor or bounced off the stone walls in showers of sparks.

A hand grabbed her shoulder.

"Are you trying to get yourself killed?" Even face-to-face with her, Ken had to shout to be heard over the commotion. "Fall back!"

He shoved her none-too-gently into the hallway behind them, following a step behind. Naomi had been the first out of the room, and Sean brought up the rear of the group. The last two members of the party could only dimly be seen through the windblown smoke and dust, down and unmoving.

"Fuck," Sean intelligently observed as they withdrew. He was attempting to pull one of the sharpened darts, or whatever they were, out of his shoulder – so far with limited success. "Fuck!" The weapon clattered to the floor, and he clamped a hand over the bleeding wound.

They'd passed through the second room of the Dungeon and were piling out of the hallway into the first when it became apparent that the Monsters hadn't followed.

Flustered, and still shaken by several near-death experiences in such a short span, Sharon couldn't even speculate as to what that might mean.

Rather than regroup, or take stock of their situation, or celebrate their good fortune, the others of the party immediately began to lay into one another.

"– only had one job to do!" Ken yelled. He and Sean were close enough to one another that their noses would be touching, if not for the difference in their heights. "You were supposed to sit back, stay quiet, and let me handle this!"

"So you can sell us out to whatever that... thing was?" Sean fired back. "Fuck you!"

"Whatever that thing was? Come on, Sean Lemaire. How it happened is anyone's guess, but we both know exactly what that thing was."

Sean drew back with an odd look in his eye.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means that thing was obviously your old party leader. The one who tragically died right before you came to us, looking to trade that Core. And boy did he sure seem pissed about something you and Naomi did to him –"

Ken had turned away, and was striding towards the Portal as he spoke.

Naomi, having once again somehow managed to move right beside her without attracting her notice, threw a casual arm around her shoulder. She had been distracted (understandably, she felt) by the escalating argument between two Heroes who could crush her like a bug, and the unexpected contact after everything else she'd just been through nearly made her jump out of her skin.

"This isn't anything personal," she began in a low, conspiratorial voice. "If I thought you'd be willing to play ball... well, it probably wouldn't have changed anything, to be honest. We've come too far already, and we can't afford to take any chances."

"Huh? Take any chances?"

The answer came in the form of a sharp pain in her side. Naomi plunged the dagger in twice more, smooth practiced motions that belied the viciousness of the attack, then carefully stepped away to avoid the spray of blood.

Toppling gracelessly onto her face, she dimly observed Sean giving a similar – albeit less elegant – treatment to their party leader with his warhammer. Ken hadn't even seen it coming. Sharon groaned, coughing up a mouthful of blood, attempted to sit up, failed.

Crouching down in front of her, Naomi began detaching the recording equipment from her harness. One piece at a time, she carefully and thoroughly destroyed each device. Sean limped up beside her to watch her work, and when she'd finished, the pair exited through the Dungeon Portal.

A biting cold spread through her body, starting at her fingers and toes and working its way in. Blood loss, she knew. The corners of her vision darkened ominously.

I can't believe that I'm about to die in a Dungeon, she thought.

I can't believe that I'm about to die at the hands of a pair of Heroes.

...shit, I can't believe that I'm about to die a virgin.

A pair of white-stockinged feet appeared at the edge of her sight. With a tremendous effort, she pushed her head up to look at the tall, female Dungeon Monster staring down at her.

The Monster frowned down at her, then glanced up towards the ceiling. She said something unintelligible, then tilted her head as if waiting for a reply. Whatever the response was clearly didn't make her happy, as she huffed and then glanced away.

But Sharon hardly noticed this – because at the same moment, a system window had appeared before her.

New Message:

A Heart Bond has been offered.

All conditions met for reclassification.

Reclassify from [Hero] to [Dungeon Heart]?

Yes | No