I tried to move, groaned instead. "Ahh." Pathetic. Even my pain sounded weak. I forced myself upright, back pressing against something rough—stone, cold and uneven.

I let my head fall back against the wall, swallowing down the nausea clawing at my throat. Alright. Think. I had two options—sit here and wait for whatever bastard decided I wasn’t dead enough, or get my shit together and figure a way out.

Not exactly a hard choice.

But first, I needed to move. And that… might be a problem.

"Those bastards."

The words slipped out through gritted teeth as I forced my body upright. Every inch of me ached—my head throbbed, my ribs felt like someone had taken a sledgehammer to them, and my legs? Barely working.

I used the cave wall for support, bracing my arm against the cold, uneven rock. My mind was still spinning, caught between the pain and the simple, infuriating fact that those pricks just dumped me here like trash.

And then—I heard voices.

Low chatter. Footsteps.

I blinked, straightening as best I could. Five—no, six—figures entered through the cave’s entrance.

My first thought? Shit.

Because they weren’t just random hikers who took a wrong turn. These people looked like they belonged here. Two in full armor, heavy and intimidating. Three in light cloaks, moving like they barely made a sound. And one carrying a staff.

Awakeners.

My stomach dropped. Because that meant only one thing.

I was literally in a dungeon.

"That's why I said we should raid higher-level dungeons," one of them muttered, clearly in the middle of a complaint.

Then they saw me.

For a second, we just stared at each other.

And yeah, I definitely stood out. No armor. No weapons. No fancy cloaks or magical artifacts. Just me, in my sweatshirt and pants, looking like some idiot who wandered in by accident.

In their eyes, I was either a trespasser… or some crazy bastard doing yoga in a dungeon.

"Hey… uh… you lost?"

The guy with the massive armor—beard, broad shoulders, and a sword the size of my torso—pointed his blade at me. Warborn. Had to be. The rest of his party just stood there, staring. Wide eyes, slightly open mouths—like they couldn’t quite process what they were seeing.

To be fair, I probably looked insane.

I shook my head, trying to keep my voice steady. "No. I'm… I’m not. Just resting for a bit."

Resting. Seriously? That’s what I went with?

Out of all possible explanations, I chose resting. As if this was a nice little vacation spot and not a goddamn dungeon. Why didn’t I just tell them the truth? That the Awakener Guild tossed me in here like garbage? That I had no gear, no plan, and exactly zero fucking clue what I was supposed to do?

Yeah. Real smooth.

The guy with the messy green hair snorted. "Yeah, man, looks like you just set up camp in here. Real cozy."

He had to be a Hunter. Or a Mage. Or some other class that didn’t involve getting repeatedly punched in the face.

The others chuckled. I forced out a laugh, too. The kind of awkward, half-assed laugh you make when you’re desperately hoping people just move on.

but then....they didn’t.

"You’re probably an Awakener," the bearded guy said again, eyes narrowing. "You wouldn’t even be able to step inside if you weren’t."

Shit. Right.

I forgot about that part. Only Awakeners could enter dungeons. No exceptions.

Which meant, whether I liked it or not, I’d just confirmed that I was one of them.

And considering my own rank, this was probably an F-rank dungeon—the lowest level, the weakest threats, the worst loot—that meant these guys weren’t exactly high-rank either. Maybe F. Maybe E at best.

I nodded. No point in lying—I was caught. "I am actually."

The bearded guy squinted. "What’s your name?"

"Ethan Kael."

A scoff from one of his party members. "suddenly a friendly guy?" He nudged the bearded man's armor like this was all some joke.

The leader hummed, taking a slow step forward. "Ethan, hmm?" He eyed me up and down like I was a puzzle missing half the pieces. "You raiding this dungeon? You look like hell—bruises everywhere. This place that rough?"

Oh. He completely misunderstood.

How the hell was I supposed to explain this? 'Actually, I got tossed in here like trash. No gear, no clue, no choice.' Yeah. That’d go over great.

I settled for a blunt, "uhmm...no?"

His eyebrows raised. "No, huh?" His party exchanged glances, some looking amused, others just confused.

I sighed. Fine. If I was going to say it, might as well rip the bandage off.

"to be honest I wasn’t raiding. I actually got thrown in here."

That got his attention. His expression shifted—curious, skeptical. "Thrown? By who?"

I hesitated. Then, "The Awakener Guild."

And instead of concern—they laughed.

Not just a chuckle, not a nervous laugh—a full-on, deep-bellied, can’t-believe-this-shit laugh.

Even the bearded guy covered his mouth, shaking his head. "The Awakener Guild?" He was barely keeping it together. "And what the hell would they want with you?"

I clenched my jaw. I had half expected them to be shocked. Maybe even a little worried. A tiny part of me—stupid, hopeful part—thought they might even help me.

But no.

They were the same.

All the same.

I exhaled slowly, forcing my voice to stay even. "I'm a... Summoner."

The moment the words left my mouth, the laughter died.

The air shifted.

Their faces changed—not in the friendly, amused way they had before. No, this was different.

Not fear. Not respect.

Just… that same look. The one that meant I didn’t belong.

This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

Silence. Loud, crushing silence.

Then—laughter.

The bearded man just laughed right in my face. Not the kind of laugh you share with someone. No, this was different. Mocking. Final.

And then—he clapped a hand on my shoulder.

I flinched.

Not out of fear. Out of instinct. His touch was heavy, firm, carrying a weight that sank straight to my bones. Made my body tense, my stomach twist.

Then he leaned in, voice dropping to something lower. Something meant just for me.

"Don’t even try."

Then, just like that, they turned and walked deeper into the dungeon, like I wasn’t even there.

I let out a shaky breath. My fists clenched so tight my nails dug into my palms. I wanted—fuck, I wanted—to slam my fist into the cave wall. Anything to vent the frustration bubbling in my chest.

They were intimidating. That’s what it was. They felt bigger, stronger. And me?

I felt small. Like I wasn’t even a person—just some nameless, worthless thing people looked past.

And yet… why?

I got it—Summoners were weak, useless, bottom of the barrel. But why the hate?

No—why did the world even change?

Why did this game-like nightmare even exist?

Why the hell did I have to be a part of it?

"Goddammit!"

The word ripped out of me as I slapped myself across the face. Hard.

Because right now? Right now, I needed to wake the hell up.

Frustration boiled inside me, but before I could even finish stewing in it, a glowing notification screen blinked into existence.

> [Welcome to the Dungeon]

[Rank: F]

[Expected Monsters: ???]

It just appeared.

Timed perfectly with the party’s entrance.

So even though I wasn’t part of their raid, I was still considered inside? Forced into their run whether I liked it or not?

Fantastic. This just kept getting better.

I exhaled through my nose and ignored it. Didn’t even bother acknowledging the damn thing. Instead, I sank back down onto the cold cave floor, legs stretched out, fingers idly flicking small rocks across the dirt.

The screen didn’t vanish. It just lingered, waiting.

I didn’t care.

For once, I let myself do nothing. Just sit there, stuck in my own head, ignoring the flashing reminder that I was very much screwed.

But that peace? That tiny, fragile moment of stillness?

Didn’t last.

Another notification appeared. Brighter. Bolder.

> [Slaughter Incoming]

[Warning: Failure to enter the dungeon will result in punishment, including—but not limited to—life-threatening traps, aggressive monster ambushes, and the Slaughter itself hunting you down.]

…The what now?

I stared at the words. Read them twice.

And then, very quietly, through clenched teeth, I muttered:

"damn it."

image [https://static.vecteezy.com/system/resources/thumbnails/034/487/737/small_2x/gold-frame-page-divider-free-png.png]

I entered the dungeon with the party.

Not because I wanted to. Not because I had a death wish.

But because the system—or whatever the hell was running this show—would kill me if I didn’t.

The second I stepped inside, another glowing screen materialized in front of me. This one wasn’t just a basic welcome message. It had numbers. Stats. Like something straight out of a game.

> [Ethan Kael]

[F-Rank Cursed Summoner]

Attributes:

Strength (STR): 5

Agility (AGI): 4

Intelligence (INT): 5

Endurance (END): 3

Perception (PER): 3

Binding (BIND): 0

I stared at it. Blinked.

And immediately regretted it.

Not only was I stuck as a Summoner—I was a cursed one. Because, apparently, being bottom-tier garbage wasn’t enough. No, the universe had to level up my suffering.

And the stats? Horrendous.

I wasn’t just weak. I was barely above a regular human. Maybe even below.

And that last one—BIND.

What the hell was that?

Before I could even process it, a familiar, gruff voice cut through my thoughts.

"Hey, Summoner. Don't even think about doing anything. Just stay put so you don't get in the way."

I turned. The bearded Warborn. The same guy who’d been half-friendly earlier.

Now? That was gone.

His tone was colder. Dismissive. Like I wasn’t even worth acknowledging.

And here I was, still trying to figure out what the hell ‘Binding’ even meant.

I stayed off to the side, watching them fight.

Monsters. Real ones.

The kind I’d only ever heard about. The kind that weren’t supposed to exist outside of nightmares and twisted RPG lore.

There were Bond Gnawers—rat-like undead freaks that could chew through flesh and bone.

Small serpents slithering between cracks, spitting acidic poison with enough burn to eat straight through armor.

And then there were the Hollow Spiders. Weak. Slow. But they didn’t fight alone. They swarmed.

It was chaos. And I just stood there.

For a while, I told myself it was because I was playing it smart. That watching was better than jumping in blind. That I wasn’t being useless—I was being cautious.

But then… curiosity hit me.

All this time, I never tried. Never once tested my abilities. I hated the idea of being an Awakener so much that I refused to even see what I could do.

But if this was my reality now…

If this was the only way forward…

Then what the hell was I doing just sitting here while everyone else adapted?

I needed to adapt.

I needed to survive.

"You!"

A voice snapped me out of it.

The woman standing next to the bearded Warborn pointed straight at me.

"Throw me the potion in that bag."

The timing was just perfect.

I was about to experiment with my ability, and here she was, barking orders at me like I was some lackey.

For half a second, I considered saying, "Why don’t you grab it yourself?"

But instead, I sighed, walked over to the bag, grabbed the potion—

And threw it.

Hard.

Too hard.

"Shit."

The bottle soared past her. Way past her. I didn’t even know where the hell it landed.

"What a real idiot."

Her voice was flat. Unimpressed.

The sharp crack of shattered glass echoed through the dungeon.

I braced myself, half-expecting her to lose her shit, maybe stab me out of spite. But she just waved it off like it wasn’t even worth the effort.

Lucky me.

I made my way back to my corner, watching as they continued cutting through swarms of Hollow Spiders. It was like the things just kept coming. And somehow, despite the mess, they actually looked like they were having fun.

I didn’t care.

What happened to them? Not my problem.

What mattered now was the growing itch under my skin.

I needed to try.

I had spent months rejecting this Awakener crap. Avoiding it. Pretending like I could just live normally while the world turned into something out of a fucked-up RPG.

But if this was my life now, I had to at least see what I was working with.

How did I even summon a creature?

I had no clue.

Did I need a chant? A weird pose? A magic circle?

I raised my left hand, just to see if something would happen.

Nothing.

I let out a slow, disappointed sigh. "Haa."

Fine. Right hand this time. I closed my eyes, focused hard, imagined a creature.

Maybe something cool. Something strong. Maybe—I don’t know, freaking Spider-Man?

Still nothing.

I tried again.

And again.

And again.

At some point, the party started staring. Probably wondering why I looked like a lunatic waving my hands in the air. But I didn’t care.

They never cared about Summoners to begin with. So why the hell should I care what they thought?

I kept going. Kept failing.

Until I was completely exhausted.

I slumped down, panting, kicking at the dirt.

"Is this why I’m cursed?" I muttered.

Frustration burned through me. My fingers curled into fists. My mind raced, trying to piece together anything that would make this work.

Nothing.

I clenched my jaw, slapped my own face, trying to think harder.

What the hell was I missing?

For the fourteenth damn time, I raised my arms, willing something—anything—to happen.

No closing my eyes this time. No blind faith. Just me, staring directly at my palm, waiting for a miracle.

Nothing.

At least, not at first.

Then—a surge.

Like something snapping loose inside my skull.

My breath hitched as my mind was suddenly flooded with information. Too much, too fast—flashes of creatures I’d never seen, words I didn’t understand, symbols seared into my brain like someone was force-feeding me knowledge straight from a book.

And before I could process it, before I could even think—the word came out.

"Kneel."

Loud. Commanding. Not something I planned to say. It just happened. Like my body already knew what to do before my brain could catch up.

The party froze.

Their weapons halted mid-swing. Heads snapped toward me.

And then—light.

A bright, pulsing glow erupted from the ground where I stood, spreading outward.

It was working.

Relief crashed into me, something deep, overwhelming. That feeling—when you finally figure out the answer to a question that’s been haunting you. When something clicks.

I was awakening. Again.

The glow expanded, forming a massive circle beneath me. Then, golden chains materialized, slithering up from the ground like something out of a ritual.

And in the blink of an eye—a creature emerged.

Bound. Wrapped in chains, like it had been waiting.

The party’s reaction was instant.

Their battle with the Hollow Spiders stalled—swords lowered, stances stiff, eyes locked onto me like they’d just witnessed something impossible.

"Focus!"

The bearded Warborn’s voice snapped them back.

They turned, diving back into their fight. But not before I saw the looks in their eyes.

Shock.

Disbelief.

And just a hint of fear.

In front of me, a massive black wolf—no, a Shadow Wolf—emerged from the summoning circle.

Its entire body was wrapped in chains, coiled tight like it had been restrained for a long, long time. Its eyes were shut. Unmoving. Almost peaceful.

Then—

> [WARNING: YOUR SUMMONS WILL TRY TO KILL YOU.]

I barely had time to process that before—

THWACK!

A flash of movement.

Claws. Sharp. Fast.

It lunged, a massive paw swiping straight for my throat.

> [Warning: Binding (BIND) too low. Summons may rebel.]

What the fuck?!

I barely dodged. Barely. The claws grazed my neck, leaving a stinging bruise that burned on impact.

I stumbled back, eyes locked onto it.

It was breathing heavy, its body tense, muscles twitching like it was holding back something primal. The sound it made—it wasn’t just a growl. It was pure rage.

Another attack.

Then another.

I expected it to obey me—to listen, to follow some kind of command. But no.

Instead, it came at me relentlessly, its movements wild, unhinged.

And from the side, I heard it—laughter.

"WHAHAHAHA! His own summon is attacking him!"

The green-haired guy was doubled over, barely able to breathe through his laughing fit.

"What a defective Awakener." The bearded Warborn sneered, shaking his head.

Great. Fantastic. I was about to be torn apart by my own summon, and these assholes were treating it like a comedy show.

I gritted my teeth, stepping back as the wolf advanced, still snarling, still attacking.

I raised my hands, desperate, trying again. "Kneel!"

Nothing.

Not even a twitch.

The command that had worked before? Completely useless now.

How the hell was I supposed to calm this thing down?!

But before I could come up with another plan—

The ground rumbled.

A deep, low vibration that shook the entire dungeon.

Not just me.

The party felt it too.

Their laughter stopped.

And in that brief, heavy silence, I realized something.

Whatever just woke up?

It wasn’t my summon.

We all turned.

The ground shook beneath us, dust rising in thick clouds. I barely had time to register what I was seeing—still dodging, still bleeding, my own summon tearing into me like I was its personal chew toy.

But when my eyes landed on it, the fight with the Shadow Wolf suddenly felt like the least of my problems.

A towering, six-limbed beast emerged from the depths of the dungeon.

It wasn’t like the other monsters. Not a swarm creature, not an undead rat, not another one of those mindless dungeon spawns.

This thing was different.

Bigger. Meaner. Smarter.

And judging by the way its glowing red eyes locked onto us—it wasn’t just here to exist.

It was here to hunt.

"We retreat! Prepare to run!"

The bearded man’s voice boomed across the cavern.

I blinked. Wait—what?

And then—they ran.

No hesitation. No last stand. No attempt to even fight.

They shoved past me, fleeing for their lives, their boots pounding against the stone. One of them—the green-haired bastard—even had the audacity to smirk at me as he bolted.

Right as my own summon sank its claws into my arm.

Deep. Too deep.

"Shit."

I was alone.

And now, I had company.

The six-limbed beast moved, its heavy frame shifting into a slow, deliberate jog.

Then—it lunged. I threw myself to the side, barely dodging. But the air pressure alone from the attack sent me flying.

Straight into solid rock.

"AGHHHGG!"

Pain. Instant. Blinding.

I hit the ground, coughing, gasping—blood spilling from my mouth.

My ribs? Definitely broken. Vision? Blurry as hell.

My arms trembled as I tried to push myself up, but my entire body felt wrecked. Nose bleeding, breath ragged, sweat stinging my eyes.

Then—a screen appeared.

> [SYSTEM ALERT: Your Summon is Unstable.]

> [Override Required – Force Domination Available.]

> [WARNING: If You Fail, You Will Be Consumed.]

> [Force Domination: Yes/No?]

I blinked.

What?

The edges of my vision darkened. My body was giving out, my mind slipping.

But before everything faded—before I was swallowed by the blackness—

One thought pushed through the haze.

Force Domination? Would it help me survive?

I didn’t hesitate.

I pressed YES and then......darkness....

> [SYSTEM ERROR – FORCED DOMINATION ACTIVATED.]

> [REWRITING SUMMON LINK.]

> [...PROCESSING...]