The end of the world was… Well, it was pretty much exactly like I thought it’d be. I had to hand it to the media. When it came to violence and gore, they got things bang on.

Scenes from Apocalypse Now and Blackhawk Down often flashed through my head in the days after the Cataclysm Dungeon landed. Or, crashed, more like. Unlike Dominion’s Trial, coexisting with the local surroundings wasn’t on this dungeon's agenda. I hadn’t been outside the city myself yet, but the scout reports said it had made a pretty decently sized crater when it landed.

That was a perk Aerion and I now enjoyed, thanks to our relationship with Baron Sinclair. We had access to all the military intelligence that pertained to the dungeon.

If the reports were accurate, and I had no reason to believe they weren’t, then I didn’t even want to imagine what sort of havoc higher tier dungeons would wreak. Forget the hordes, their very appearance would cause untold damage if any landed on a city.

It had begun releasing its army almost immediately.

When people had told me monsters would start spewing forth, I’d imagined the sort of beasts we’d encountered in Dominion’s Trial. Goblins, hobgoblins, that sort of thing.

What we got instead was an organized military assault, led by ten-foot-tall brutes that wore bone armor, bone earrings, bone necklaces, and looked like what you’d get if the Predator and the Uruk-hai from Lord of the Rings had a baby.

They could talk, understood battlefield tactics, and commanded all manner of vicious beasts, from oversized tusked boars to hobgoblins to even trolls and other abominations I didn’t recognize.

And these were supposed to be the weaker of the forces this dungeon would eventually spew.

Aerion and I had remained behind to train until the last minute, and despite our pleas, Baron Sinclair had expressly forbidden us from taking part in the defense of the city.

Aided by Basecrest’s sturdy walls, the City Guard were doing a solid job thus far, but that didn’t mean there hadn’t been casualties. Every time someone died, I had to wonder if that was a life that could’ve been saved had we intervened.

Sinclair’s strategy made sense, of course. It didn’t matter how well we fought off the hordes unless we took down the dungeon itself, and expending the city’s attack force in the defense of the city was a terrible idea.

“No one’s coming, are they?” Aerion muttered from beside me. We stood on top of one of the taller buildings’ roofs—one that was near the wall to the east, where the dungeon had crash-landed. It gave us a decent view of the attacking forces while still being far enough away from the wall to put us out of range of magic and arrow fire.

“Doesn’t look like it,” I replied, my expression grim. “Sinclair always said it was an outside chance.”

The reason we hadn’t attacked the dungeon yet was because Sinclair had been led to believe that reinforcements were on the way. He’d hoped to relieve some of the beleaguered troops on the walls, and to provide a protection detail for the mercenaries and soldiers planning on raiding the dungeon.

They never came.

“Pretty sure all the other cities are fighting for their own lives right now,” I said. “Nobody expected the Cataclysm to hit this early, and a week or two of meteors isn’t nearly enough time to mobilize armies.”

“Which means the situation will get worse before it becomes better,” Aerion replied.

“All the more reason to take that dungeon down as quickly as possible.”

“If only it were so simple,” Aerion said. “Cataclysm Dungeons are said to be enormous, even at lower tiers. It could take weeks or months for us to ascend to its highest level.”

“Then we’d better be efficient,” I said. “For the sake of everyone fighting for their lives.”

“Tomorrow,” Aerion said. “We’re finally going.”

“Tomorrow,” I agreed.

Several raiding parties had been arranged, each staggered to head out through different exits, all taking different routes to the dungeon. Safer that way. Less chance of them being intercepted and wiped out before they could hit the dungeon.

The thing was, each party had two guides—warriors in their own right—who were supposed to report back to Basecrest after their party had infiltrated the dungeon.

Six such parties had been sent out. None of the guides had returned.

Our turn was tomorrow, just before dawn.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

Aerion clenched one fist and gripped her soulkeeper in the other. “Tomorrow,” she whispered. She was trembling.

I put a hand on her shoulder. “We’ll be fine,” I said. “We’ve trained. We’re stronger now.”

I glanced at her Soulkeeper. Aerion kept it on her at all times, but she’d allowed me to hold it once. I didn’t have nearly enough Essence to Initialize the thing, and it was of [Rare] quality anyway, so it’d probably fail if I tried, but I was willing to bet it’d be quite the valuable item once I did. Unlike a regular soul stone, it hadn’t shown me what stats it bestowed, which made me think it had some other, more beneficial ability.

“You don’t believe that,” Aerion whispered back, snapping my thoughts back to reality. I wasn’t entirely sure why my brain had gone off on that tangent to begin with.

“What makes you say that?”

“Because… You’re also trembling.”

“Huh.” I looked at my shaking hand. That explained the random thoughts. “You’re right,” I said. “Guess that makes two of us, then.”

If I was this out of it after Cosmo’s little pep talk, I didn’t even want to think what a nervous wreck I’d have been without it. The stakes could only go so high when it was just your life on the line—you die. End of story.

With the lives of tens of thousands or potentially millions on the line? That was the level of crushing pressure that would break even the most veteran warriors. Which, despite our recent exploits, neither of us were.

We might have superhuman stats and fancy gear, but I still felt like we were pretty green in our real-world experience. Something we’d undoubtedly gain with this dungeon, but that I knew would be an exceedingly painful process.

We stood there a long, long while after. Long after the sun had gone down. For all we knew, it might very well be the last peaceful night we’d know in a long, long time.

I soaked in every moment because the next goodbye I’d have to say would be one of the hardest.

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“That’s it?” I said, blinking at the master blacksmith in front of me.

“What else ya want me to say? Have a good trip? Be well?” Rogar scoffed. “Get lost, brat.”

“No, I…” I struggled for words. “I was sure you’d go off on me for slacking or something.”

The blacksmith grunted. “Hard to, considering you’re headin’ out to try an’ save us from that calamity,” he said, gesturing with his chin. “Yer either brave or stupid, but I don’t really care which. Can’t very well spit on anyone who ventures out there when I sleep safely within the walls of the city, can I?”

“And the nails?” I asked. I’d worked tirelessly over the past week, both in training my combat skills and fulfilling my promise to Rogar, but I hadn’t even come close to the thousand he wanted me to make. Two hundred usable nails was still pretty good by my count, but this was Rogar we were talking about. Nothing less than perfection satisfied him.

“I’ll manage,” Rogar said. “Always have. Don’t mind the nails. Just… Come back alive, you hear?”

I grinned. “Look at you, getting all soft for me. You really are nicer than you look.”

“Watch your mouth, boy. You’re an investment. Got no apprentice if you die, do I?”

My smile faded a bit. It was hard to tell if that was all it was, or if he really did care. Would it kill him to be honest with his feelings for once?

An awkward silence passed between us.

“Guess I’ll be off, then,” I said, breaking it.

“Kill as many of those vermin as you can.”

I waved as I left. “That was always the plan.”

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“Is there anything else you need?” Sinclair asked. “Anything that will aid you?”

I gave the anxious Baron a genuine smile. “Well, since you’re asking… We’d love a handful of Divergence Rank Blessed or a Boonworthy with us as protection.”

Sinclair’s face fell, and his lips drew into a taut line.

“I’m kidding,” I quickly added. The haggard ruler looked confused for a moment, then cracked a small smile.

“You can’t afford to send them with us any more than you can afford to send the whole army to the dungeon,” I said, interrupting the Baron before he could speak. “You need them to defend the city. I mean, you’ve given Aerion and me armor, training, and weapons. You’re giving us a guard detail that’s twice the size of the other assault groups, and we’re taking the most convoluted route of them all. We’ll make it. We’ll take this dungeon down, and we’ll come home.”

Sinclair, who’d been pacing around the armory where the strike team had assembled, stopped to gaze at us.

“Ensure that you do come back alive. We have lost so many already…”

“That’s the plan,” I said, giving him a wink. “But we kinda have to conquer the dungeon to do that, don’t we? No early exits. No bailouts.”

“Right. Right,” Sinclair said, averting his gaze. “Of course.”

A guard in black brigandine armor approached, saving Sinclair from any further panic attacks. “Sirs,” the guard said, addressing Aerion and me. “We are ready to push off at your earliest convenience. With luck, we’ll be at the dungeon by evening on the morrow.”

I looked at the dozen or so guards Sinclair had assigned us. While none were Blessed or Boonworthy, they were all among Sinclair’s best, and while he hadn’t mentioned it, I felt like one or two might have been picked from his personal guard.

I glanced at Aerion, who nodded. “I’m ready.”

“As am I,” I said loudly, so all the guards would hear. “Let’s do this.”

I met Sinclair’s gaze, and we exchanged nods. Either this would be the last time we saw each other, or Aerion and I would return as heroes of the land.

I pictured it in my head—Order’s Champion, returning as a savior of Dominion’s people. From what I’d gleaned thus far, those two didn’t like each other at all.

I savored that image, deciding I liked it very much. All I had to do to turn that daydream into reality was not die, infiltrate an enemy fortress, destroy an army, and do it before Basecrest was overrun and its people slaughtered.

No. That wasn’t the way to look at this. This was an opportunity of a lifetime. The chance to Rank up my Blessing to Divergence, and to level up my new weapons. To be drowned in a waterfall of stats, and to become the hero of a city.

Despite the odds. Despite the danger… I couldn’t fucking wait.