The dungeon shakes under the shift of paradigm. If the dungeon really is a giant beast, then Matt has gripped tightly upon its heart. The dungeon can’t scream, but the Mimic that guards it can.

Doug explodes from the Mimic in a show of black blood and gore. It then rears itself back, pressing its bulk through the door and out of the range of hacking skeleton warriors before suddenly bounding over the small unit and directly into Matt in a streaming black mass of muscle and rage.

Matt panics and holds out the dungeon core in front of him like a talisman against evil. And maybe it is. Defying physics, the creature shifts his body to avoid ramming into the precious core, splitting before Matt like water against a stone. The rush of concussive force nearly topples Matt over, forcing him to grit his teeth to bear the onslaught.

And as quickly as it starts, it is over. And Matt shudders in sheer exhaustion, and true terror is in the fact that the Boss Mimic is behind him, and ultimately he can imagine the rending talons, whipping and shredding him to pieces before he can turn around. Matt almost feels proud for holding out this long.

Matt the Liche has acquired Dungeon Core.

Matt the Liche has not Cleared the Dungeon!

No Reward Can Be Given.

No Exception Can Be Made.

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

The NecroParty Dies Here.

…

…

….

Wait no.

NO!

Call it inspiration.

Call it luck.

Or sheer stupidity.

But in the brief moment between life and death, Matt drops the dungeon core into his mouth just as the Mimic lashes out, prepared to rake his scythe-like claws against Matt’s ribs, torso, and skull!

If you were to ask Matt at that exact moment why he did it, he would tell you he merely assumed that the Mimic wouldn’t risk destroying the Dungeon Core if it was inside of him. That he hoped it was just going to be inside of him, floating safely…

But Matt doesn’t know he’s made a mistake. Not until the System screams: “NO!” Not until the world distorts, goes multicolored, and techno-infused with lights and sounds beyond the medieval mind of Matt to understand! The world becomes—

Numbers, distorted and grayed out in a world bleached of all colors, not white, black, or gray. A world of pixels, the individual atoms of this world, breaking down to its individual spectrums as cascading numerals fell like rain with foreign and alien symbols interrupting the pattern of 1s and 0s. And in this new world, Matt stands, fazing in and out of what’s real, as his world becomes static, both in sight and in sound. Except for one word, one repeating word-

Error

ErroR

ERroR

ArrROR

34404

E440R

#$$)$

#RROR

ER-

That is all Matt hears as the Boss Mimic’s claws pass through him! He watches it crash into the tiled dungeon floor, stone and dirt uprooting and even dried blood showing in the distorted world of Matt’s new domain. And at first, Matt is a simple observer, seeing Doug, seeing the remains of Greg, seeing his fellow skeletons, seeing the world—

Before the chanting in the distance, distorted and full of woe, is not only around him, but IN him. And that’s when Matt screams.