"True vision comes only from aligning one's perception with the Maker’s design. To deviate is to dwell in darkness." — The Maker’s Code, Chapter 1, Line 1

The last door opened with a surprisingly loud groan, revealing a shadowy cavern beyond. It was about as far from the bright, clinical spaces I’d just been through as it was possible to be. This room was dark with its only illumination coming from flickering, ghostly figures projected onto the far wall.

I watched for a moment as shadows of strange creatures, people and objects danced and spun. After a while, I thought I recognised a few of the people represented – Lia, Scar, Dema, Jorgen—all shifting as if performing some silent show.

Wait for it . . . wait for it.

Ah, there we go. A notification pinged up.

> Final Challenge: The Cavern

> Objective: See beyond the illusions and discover the true form hidden within. Only by grasping the real essence of this space can you exit.

Awesome. Time for a bit of show and tell, is it?

The shadows on the wall coalesced for a moment and then moved into a series of fluid, repetitive motions, each new figure going through a precise series of actions—a knight swinging a sword, a farmer harvesting crops, a child skipping rope—all now on a fast loop as if they were all frozen in their respective roles.

I watched them, trying to understand what the Maker was hoping I was going to do here. Every few seconds, a buzz of disapproval vibrated in the air, one of the less subtle reminders that I have ever heard that I was being judged and found wanting. The Maker might as well be going ‘wah wah’ whilst I thought. It struck me that between him and the Great Slacker, the Great Celestial Beings in this part of town were about as childish as they came.

A follow-up message flashed across my vision:

> "Illusion is the prison of the mind. True mastery lies in discerning the shadow from the form. Only by understanding the source can you ascend."

“Only by understanding? Well, shucks, why didn’t you say so? I guess I better start, you know, thinking REALLY hard.”

I looked around, but the room was empty, save for the shadows cast across the wall. No helpful glowing shapes or sparkly treadmills this time. Just . . . shadows.

The echoes of the movements of those figures kept bouncing around the walls of the cavern, their repetitive actions a pantomime of life. And with every loop, their shadows grew sharper, more intricate and, actually, a bit more interesting.

I focused on the depiction of the knight, all rigid swing and predictable motions. It moved in perfect, disciplined loops: slash, step back, shield up, stance reset. A text prompt appeared above the shadow as I stared.

> Role: Defender of Order

> Duty-bound and eternal, loyal to the cause. Embrace its strength, and you may find purpose.

Ha. Subtle. You can’t say the Maker didn’t try. They might as well have put up a flashing neon sign saying, “Be a good boy and conform.”

The whole point of showing me this knight was to hammer home the idea of there being so much honour inherent in obedience, wasn't it? That was carved deep in every swing of its blade. Because it wasn’t just swinging, was it?—it was following orders, over and over, as if in a trance. No deviation, no second thoughts, no pause for a cheeky snack break or stretch. Probably never even popped out for a quick fag.

This was what the Maker had in mind for me, wasn’t it? Nah, not just for me. It wasn’t like I was special or anything. This was basically what The Maker wanted for everyone.

It wrote the script, and we were expected to enact it. No deviation. No individual thought. And certainly no slacking. In the ideal world, our lives were just supposed to be some boring, preordained grind where individuality got smoothed over and shaped into something that obeyed and nothing more. That’s what Jorgen had said, wasn’t it? Once the Priest of the Maker came calling, he just leant into his chosen role?

The knight’s shadow seemed to stiffen as it moved, like it was reacting to my thoughts. The prompt above it glowing brighter, almost insistently, as if it were urging me to give up my idle ways and take it seriously.

Embrace its strength, and you may find purpose.

“Get tae fuck.”

The prompt hovered, flashing off and on in the neediest way I have ever seen. Seriously. Did this God not get enough attention from all its own adherents?

I addressed myself to the shadow knight. “Look, no offence, mate, but you look absolutely miserable. And if that’s supposed to be what purpose is all about? Well, then count me out.”

I looked over at the second of the shadows, the farmer with their sickle cutting through an invisible harvest.

> Role: Provider of Sustenance

> Endless in labour, tireless in dedication. To toil is to be virtuous, to sustain the greater good.

Don’t know about you, but I’m sensing a wee bit of a theme here.

In fact, each of the little shadow puppets had a little blurb above it about its ideal role in the perfect little society the Maker clearly wanted to fit me into.

This was basically an entire dungeon dedicated to showing me how super it would be if I would act like a good little person and become a cog in the machine. I got the sense that there would be any number of rewards available if I felt it in me to bend over.

“Choose your place, join the balance, and you will find fulfilment.”

Ah, that voice was back. Lovely.

“Don’t you think it’s funny how everyone seems to want me on their team? The Elders. The Rebellion. The Empire. You. Even Scar, to a certain extent. In fact, the only person who has not given me the big sales pitch is the only guy whose team I seem to be on. And that’s only because I’m too damn lazy to properly quit. Just for form’s sake, though, what happens to me if I’m just not interested in your oh-so-subtle shadowy social roles?”

The shadows on the wall froze, and the entire cavern seemed to grow colder.

> There is no path outside the roles. Fulfillment requires submission to form. To purpose. Without purpose one is lost.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

“Oh, yeah! Sell it, baby!” I said. “But here’s the thing. What you’re offering here are shadows. Pretty as they are, they’re still only copies of the real thing.”

To deny the shadow is to deny the path of Order. True power lies in alignment with design. It is only through being Made that we are free.

I blew the sloppiest of raspberries and studied the figures again, all moving in their endless patterns, each one performing its task as if that’s all it would ever be. Anyone who was trapped in this cave would think that those shadows – the options they gave - were the real thing because they didn’t know any better . . .

Nah. Not for me.

“Look, in case it hasn’t been blindingly obvious thus far, I’m not going to join your little shadow play,” I said. “And I’m not here to pick a job description from your cosmic pamphlet. I was born a slacker. I’ve lived a slacker, and, to be honest, I imagine I’ll die one, too. Probably sooner rather than later, if you have much to do with it, I’m sure.”

The cavern shuddered, and the shadows on the wall flickered as if struggling to hold their shapes. Then, with a surge of energy, a new shadow appeared—a perfect outline of me, hands in pockets, leaning back with a bored expression.

The shadow’s gaze was locked on mine.

> To escape, confront the true essence of self. Reflect on purpose or remain bound.

I stared at the shadow for a moment, watching as it mimicked my movements. An echo of the real thing, designed to fit in a box.

“Nah,” I said, waving my hand dismissively. “I’ve never been a fan of looking at myself in a mirror. I mean, who needs that kind of negativity? Every time I look, it’s like, ‘Oh, hey, there’s that guy who promised to start working out last year and still thinks pizza is a food group. Frankly, I prefer to keep my delusions of grandeur intact.”

The shadow began to change, morphing into a series of increasingly desperate forms—a warrior with a sword, a scholar with a book, a merchant with a bag of gold. Each one flickered into being, reaching out toward me, begging me to pick a role, to settle down, to just fit.

The cavern’s voice turned stern, edged with warning.

> Without a Made form there is no substance. Without substance there is no legacy. Accept the role or fade into insignificance. Be Made!

“Well, considering you asked so nicely . . . Look, maybe I’m not here to be a shadow on your wall. Maybe—just maybe—I’m here to find my own way. You know, without a script.”

The room seemed to recoil at that.

> A life without structure is a life without meaning.

“Or,” I shot back, “maybe meaning isn’t something you can just print out and hand over. Maybe it’s something you figure out as you go. Ever think of that?”

The shadow stilled, the entire cavern pulsing with a low, uneasy hum as though struggling to process my rejection. And then, finally, a new message flashed:

> Challenge Override: Essence of Self Accepted

> Objective Updated: Forge a Path Beyond Form

The shadow on the wall shivered, its edges blurring, and slowly—very slowly—it began to dissolve, as if collapsing in on itself. The cavern lightened, the walls no longer pressing in with the weight of expectations. The illusions faded, leaving just the empty cave and me.

A single door appeared in the stone wall, glowing faintly, as if resigned to let me go. Before I stepped through, a final message appeared.

> A form unshaped is a form untamed. Beware the chaos you invite for not all will bow to such insolence.

“Thanks for the heads-up. But it’s not like that’s not anything I’ve never heard before.”

> Insight Gained: True freedom lies in forging a path beyond designated forms.

For some reason, that made me unaccountably angry. “True freedom?” I barked, my voice echoing loudly through the empty space, surprising even me. “Oh, right, because I’m just some clueless little cog who needs to be shown the way, is that it?”

The anger clawed its way up, that burn I’d been holding back since I got here, since I ended up in this entire fucked-up, rule-bound, shambles of a game of a world.

“I know exactly who I am! Who do you think you are, trying to ‘show me’ anything about myself? You think any shitty little Dungeon filled with games and lights is going to tell me something I don’t already know about me?” I could feel the words rushing out, heavy and angry, and not to be stopped. “The woman I loved walked out on me because I wasn’t good enough. I lost everything for one lousy mistake—the kind other people laugh off, call ‘youthful idiocy’ when it’s their rich little kids screwing up. But me? Nah, I needed to pay for it, didn’t I? No probation for me. No. I had to do my time. All of it. Like I’d done the worst crime in the world.”

I laughed, and I knew it sounded bitter. “Then I got a second chance, and what did it amount to? A van slamming into me and knocking me out of existence like I was nothing. And here I am now, expected to play some obedient role in your perfect fucking little system. Expected to take what you’re dishing out like it’s some kind of favour. There’s you, Maker. And you, Slacker, sitting up there on your cloud chairs or whatever the fuck you do with your cosmic tea time. Watching me. Putting me through this ‘test’ like I need a lesson on . . . what? On purpose? On Freedom? On who I am?”

I leaned close to the shadow, glaring into the empty eyes it didn’t have. “You think you can show me something about myself that I don’t already know? Screw that. Screw all of it. You can take your ‘duty’ and your ‘purpose’ and shove it!”

As the echoes of his voice faded, a soft, almost reluctant chime filled the room. It wasn’t loud or celebratory—more like the Dungeon was clearing its throat awkwardly.

> Dungeon Complete: The Well of Ascension

> Against expectation, you have shown resilience without compliance.

> Class Evolution Options Unlocked.

> Class Evolution Pathways for: Freeloader

1. Shadow of Fortune

Description: You’ve embraced your role as the wild card, an unpredictable force that gains strength by weaving through shadows of fate and fortune. The Shadow of Fortune isn’t bound by traditional combat, instead wielding chance and chaos.

Abilities:

- Luck Tap: Redirect a portion of allies' fortune to increase your own chance of success.

- Fortune’s Feint: Gain a percentage chance to evade any attack, increasing with each consecutive dodge.

- Unseen Gains: Passively acquire resources during downtime, including rare or unexpected items during critical moments.

2. Drifter

Description: A natural evolution for those who find themselves thriving on the fringes, the Drifter is never in one place for long, borrowing skills, knowledge, and resources from others. Their presence subtly disrupts the balance around them, weakening enemies or bolstering allies.

Abilities:

- Borrowed Talent: Temporarily borrow abilities or skills from allies with a unique “Freeloader” twist.

- Wanderer’s Luck: Increased chances of rare encounters or loot, especially in new territories.

- Aura of Apathy: Causes minor enemies to lose interest in pursuing or engaging in battle with you, allowing for easier movement through hostile areas.

3. Fatebender

Description: For the Freeloader ready to defy even the constraints of destiny, the Fatebender bends probability to their whim, navigating situations that would otherwise be impossible. Often sought as allies (and feared as enemies), they don’t just disrupt the system—they rewrite it.

Abilities:

- Probability Flux: Influence outcomes in real-time, increasing the likelihood of a favourable result in tense situations.

- Slipstream: Move effortlessly between locations or obstacles in dungeons, minimizing resource consumption.

- Karmic Echo: Unleash a delayed effect that returns a portion of any inflicted harm or resource depletion back to an attacker or hostile presence.

Then, a last message hung in the air for a moment:

> Choose wisely for each path is a step further into the world you have only begun to disrupt.

The funny thing is, I didn’t even bother reading them before I dismissed the notification and pushed open the door.

“Keep it. That all seems like much too much work.”