Jimmy stepped onto the bridge, boots crunching softly against wood and stone, each step making the structure groan like it hadn’t signed up for this gig. The wind hit him immediately, a cold slap to the face that tugged at his curls, making them dance around like they had places to be. There was something alive about the wind here. Not just alive—pushing. Urging him forward. Like it had a vested interest in him getting across the giant death-chasm beneath his feet.
The bridge wasn’t just some throwaway connection between Point A and Point B, either. No, this thing hummed. Ancient energy coiled through it, threading every beam and stone with power. His Core thrummed in response, a low, steady vibration in his chest, like a tuning fork responding to the right note. Whatever was powering this thing wasn’t normal. It felt old. And important.
As he moved, Jimmy caught a glimpse of the chasm below. It wasn’t just dark—no, that would’ve been easy. This thing shimmered, almost like liquid glass rippling with faint patterns, constantly shifting and folding in on themselves. It was mesmerizing. Like staring into the heartbeat of a world too big for him to understand. The patterns reminded him of the Inner Realm, that freaky dimension that was basically a kaleidoscope of nightmares and puzzles. Except this wasn’t nightmares. This felt… calm. Alive. Calling to him in a way that made his Core buzz like a faulty lightbulb.
He leaned over the edge a bit, squinting at the ripples below. His eyes darted, trying to make sense of them, like if he stared long enough the patterns would spell out a big “HEY, LOOK AT THIS SECRET.” But nope. All he got was the sense that something was just out of reach, like a word on the tip of his tongue. Watching the movement without feeling it was maddening, like seeing an orchestra play without hearing the music.
“Alright,” he muttered, straightening up. “Let’s see if we can turn the volume up.”
Jimmy inhaled slowly, letting the world blur around him as he turned his focus inward. His Core thrummed again, stronger this time, like a heartbeat deep inside him. And then, he felt it—a pulse at the edge of his senses. Quiet. Ancient. Elusive, like a shadow slipping just out of reach. He followed it, sinking deeper into that rhythm, each breath pulling him closer to something primal, something older than the stones beneath his feet.
The energy wasn’t like his Core. It wasn’t raw, untamed power. It was calmer, like an invitation instead of a challenge. Each beat of it felt like the earth itself breathing. He didn’t know whether to embrace it or run for his life, but he was leaning toward embrace.
And then, like flipping a switch, everything hit at once. A cold shiver raced down his spine, followed by a wave of warmth that flooded out from his chest, tingling in his arms and legs like a gentle fire waking up every nerve. His Core pulsed harder, matching the rhythm of the bridge’s energy, syncing with it in a way that felt almost alive.
Then the familiar blue glow blinked into view, floating in his vision like an annoying but oddly satisfying popup.
System Notification:
Core Level Up!
You have advanced to Tier 2 of [E] Core (Earth).
Jimmy exhaled slowly, feeling his Core settle, heavier now, more grounded. Like it had dug roots into his bones. The world around him seemed sharper, clearer, as if someone had cranked the contrast up to eleven. Each gust of wind, each flicker of shadow—it all clicked.
He opened his eyes, glancing down at the bridge. It was glowing now, faintly, threads of energy weaving through the planks and rails, like veins carrying lifeblood to something bigger. Even the air felt denser, like it wasn’t just air anymore but something alive, charged with potential.
Jimmy grinned. “Yeah, okay. This I can work with.”
The rest of the bridge stretched out ahead of him, impossibly long, impossibly steady despite the endless drop below. It felt like walking on the spine of some sleeping beast, every step pulling him deeper into the connection between his Core and the energy around him. He stopped halfway, closing his eyes again, letting the world dissolve into that pulse. It wasn’t just power; it was part of him now, threading into his veins, his muscles, his bones.
His Core pulsed again, harder this time. The air around him cut sharper, electric and alive, but instead of pain, it sparked something inside him, igniting every fiber of his being. He didn’t fight it. He let it pull him under, reshape him, tuning his body to that deep, ancient rhythm.
And then, another blue notification snapped into view.
System Notification:
Core Level Up!
You have advanced to Tier 3 of [E] Core (Earth).
Jimmy blinked, surprised. “Well, that was fast.” His Core hummed now, louder, resonating with the bridge’s energy in a way that made him feel—connected. Like he wasn’t just walking across the bridge. He was the bridge, or maybe it was part of him. He wasn’t sure, but it felt good.
When he looked out at the chasm again, the ripples of liquid glass had changed. They weren’t just random patterns anymore. He could see layers now, depths within depths, like a world folded over itself, waiting to be unfolded. He stepped closer to the edge, drawn by the pull of it.
He didn’t focus this time. He didn’t try. He just let his awareness flow outward, reaching for that vastness.
His Core reacted instantly, pulsing violently. The wind died. The sounds vanished. Time itself seemed to stop.
And then, the pain hit.
It slammed into him like a tidal wave, tearing through every nerve, every muscle, every cell. Searing heat and freezing cold all at once, twisting inside him, reshaping him. His Core flared, burning like molten rock in his chest, forcing him to his knees. He grit his teeth, shaking as the transformation carved into him, wave after wave. He felt his tendons tighten, his bones hum, his entire body stretching and warping as if it were being rewritten from the inside out.
Finally, the pain ebbed, leaving him gasping for breath. When he opened his eyes, everything felt different. The world was sharper, yes, but he was sharper too. Stronger. His Core thrummed with an intensity that made him feel like he could punch through a mountain and maybe a little bit of ego if he had to.
The notification appeared again.
System Notification:
This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.
Core Level Up!
You have advanced to Tier 4 of [E] Core (Earth).
He staggered to his feet, rolling his shoulders as the new energy settled into his Core. It was weighty but freeing, like carrying a sword that was perfectly balanced for him and him alone.
“Alright, bridge,” Jimmy said, patting the nearest plank. “Thanks for the upgrade. I’ll name my next houseplant after you.”
When he reached the end of the bridge and stepped onto the solid ground of the Shiverwind Glade, the cold hit him again, sharp and biting. He pulled up his map, checking the lay of the land. Sparse. Empty. Just one path leading to a fortress called The Shroudspire.
The System chimed in, pulling up the dungeon’s details.
System Notification:
The Shroudspire - Dungeon Information
A long-abandoned fortress, now a prison for shadows bound by ancient magic. Every sound echoes. Beware what stirs when silence breaks.
Jimmy studied the map for a moment before dismissing it, his gaze locking on the towering silhouette of the Shroudspire. “Yeah, that’s not ominous at all.” The wind howled around him, a bitter reminder that this place wasn’t going to make anything easy.
“Let’s get this over with,” he muttered, tightening his grip on his katana as he headed toward the fortress.
The wind tore through the Shiverwind Glade like a blade, sharp and relentless, gnawing its way through Jimmy’s coat and into his bones. There was no shelter, no trees, no rocks—just an endless wasteland of ice and snow stretching out beneath an iron-gray sky. Each step forward felt like a test. Not a fight to the death, exactly, but more like the world was whispering: You sure about this, buddy?
Jimmy ignored it. He had places to be. More importantly, he had a dungeon to conquer, and those didn’t wait around.
The Shroudspire loomed ahead, an ominous silhouette rising from the frozen ground. Crumbling walls and jagged spires jutted up like the teeth of some ancient, frozen beast. Shadows clung to the fortress like they belonged there, pooling in every crack and crevice. And they weren’t just normal shadows. These things moved, shifting like they were watching him approach, thickening the air with a silence that pressed down on him harder than the cold.
When Jimmy reached the entrance, he hesitated for half a second, staring up at the massive stone doorway. It radiated cold, a deep, unnatural chill that made the rest of the Glade feel like a tropical vacation. He placed a hand on the stone, and instantly his fingers went numb, like the fortress was trying to suck the warmth straight out of him.
“Yup. This is fine,” he muttered, flexing his fingers to shake the cold off. With a deep breath, he stepped forward.
System Notification:
Welcome to The Shroudspire.
Test your strength, endure the shadows, and discover the power that silence holds.
The blue glow flickered out, leaving Jimmy alone with the fortress’s eerie, oppressive quiet. The first hall stretched out ahead of him, its long stone floor lined with statues that towered on either side. Each statue held a weapon—swords, halberds, maces—and their blank, featureless faces seemed to follow him as he walked.
Jimmy’s boots barely made a sound, but even the faintest echo seemed wrong, like it didn’t belong here. The air was thick and muffled, swallowing every noise, giving him the unsettling feeling that sound wasn’t allowed here. Any sound.
He slowed his steps, his eyes scanning the floor. That’s when he saw it—a faint shimmer in the stone about five feet ahead. The light was just a little dimmer there, bending ever so slightly, like a ripple in water. A trap.
“Not bad,” Jimmy whispered, grinning slightly. “You almost got me.”
Careful not to trigger it, he stepped around the shimmer. The air shifted almost imperceptibly, and a soft click echoed above him. Jimmy froze, his hand going to his katana.
Nothing.
“Well, that’s comforting.”
Testing his luck, he tapped his foot on the stone just beside the trap. The sound echoed down the hall, bouncing off the statues. At first, nothing happened. Then, the shadows at the bases of the statues began to move.
Dark, wispy forms poured out like ink spilled into water, coalescing into humanoid shapes. Whisper Shades. Jimmy frowned, watching them glide toward him silently, their movements too smooth, too unnatural. They weren’t attacking, though—not yet. They swirled around him, reacting to the faint vibrations of his movement, like moths circling a flame.
Jimmy didn’t breathe. Didn’t blink. He slowly shifted his weight back, keeping his movements measured and quiet. One Shade drifted closer, drawn by the faint creak of the floor beneath him. He stayed still, waiting. After what felt like forever, the Shade lost interest, dissolving back into the edges of the room.
“Great. Sound-sensitive murder ghosts. My favorite.”
Moving again, Jimmy made a mental note: no sounds, no sudden movements. The Whisper Shades were more like proximity alarms than real enemies, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t kill him if he screwed up. He kept his pace slow and deliberate, passing through the hall without triggering another trap.
The second floor opened up into a massive central chamber, cold and cavernous, with wide stone corridors feeding into it like veins. The temperature dropped another ten degrees, and Jimmy could see his breath puffing out in small white clouds. The silence here was so heavy, it felt like a physical thing pressing against his ears.
He scanned the room. Movement caught his eye near the edges of the chamber—figures clad in dark armor, standing motionless with their heads bowed and hands resting on spectral blades. Shade Soldiers. Unlike the Whisper Shades, these things looked solid, heavy, and a lot less forgiving.
But they weren’t alone. Jimmy glanced upward and spotted shadowy shapes hanging in the dim light of the rafters. Archers. Silent, deadly, and perfectly positioned to turn him into a pincushion if he slipped up.
“Okay, this is officially a bad idea,” Jimmy muttered under his breath. Still, he crouched low, hugging the wall as he moved through the chamber.
Halfway across, his boot landed on a small, loose stone. The tiny crunch it made was barely audible, but it might as well have been a gunshot in this silence. Two Shade Soldiers lifted their heads immediately, their hollow, empty eyes locking onto him. Jimmy tensed, gripping his katana, ready for a fight.
But they didn’t charge.
Instead, they began to chant.
The sound was low and haunting, sending shivers down Jimmy’s spine. The chanting bounced off the walls, growing louder, more oppressive, as the soldiers’ forms began to shift. Their armor darkened, becoming denser, heavier, their swords dripping with shadow. Whatever they were doing, Jimmy didn’t want to stick around to find out.
He pressed himself against the wall, trying to disappear into the shadows. The soldiers scanned the room, searching, but they didn’t find him. Eventually, the chanting stopped, and they returned to their original positions.
Jimmy let out a slow, controlled breath. “Note to self: don’t piss off the choir.”
The stairs spiraled upward, each step creaking ominously beneath his weight. At the top, the air grew even colder, and Jimmy felt his Core pulse in response, steadying him. That’s when he saw it.
The Warden.
Dark, hooded, and silent, the Warden stood at the far end of the room, a towering figure holding a staff in one hand and a shadowy blade in the other. Its empty eyes locked onto Jimmy the second he entered, radiating a silent threat that made every hair on the back of his neck stand up.
They stared at each other, the silence stretching out like a taut wire. Jimmy’s grip tightened on his katana, his Core pulsing harder, keeping him grounded. He didn’t move. Neither did the Warden. For a moment, it felt like the entire world had paused.
Then the Warden lunged.
Jimmy sidestepped the first swing, his movements sharp and deliberate. The blade cut through the air with terrifying speed, but he stayed calm, ducking under the follow-up strike and slipping behind the Warden. His katana flashed, slicing cleanly, but the Warden’s form rippled like smoke, reforming almost instantly.
The fight was brutal, fast, and silent. No war cries, no clanging steel. Just the rhythmic sound of Jimmy’s breathing and the faint hum of his Core as he moved. The Warden’s strikes were relentless, but Jimmy didn’t falter, dodging and countering with precision. Finally, he spotted his opening—a split-second moment where the Warden overextended.
Jimmy struck, his blade cutting through the shadowy figure in a clean, decisive arc. The Warden froze, then dissolved into darkness, leaving him standing alone in the silent room.
System Notification:
Dungeon Cleared—The Shroudspire.
Reward: 200 Essence.
Jimmy let out a long breath, his muscles burning from the effort. The silence settled around him again, but now, it didn’t feel oppressive. It felt earned.
He plopped down on the cold stone floor, pulling a ration pack from his satchel. As he ate, he glanced around the room, his mind already wandering to the next challenge.
“Alright,” he muttered between bites. “One dungeon down. Let’s see what’s next.”