The day I set foot in the Abyssal Maw, it felt like the universe held its breath. The entrance loomed before me, a jagged maw carved into the earth, its rock teeth slick with glowing moss that pulsed faintly like a heartbeat. The entire place seemed alive. Hell, maybe it was.

The air hit me like a wall—thick, damp, cloying. The kind of humidity that makes it feel like you're breathing through wet cloth. I’d heard the stories about dungeons—how some felt sentient, aware, like they were sizing you up. I’d always figured it was nerves, maybe a bit of hazing from the veterans. But standing here, in front of the Abyssal Maw, I wasn’t so sure.

I rolled my shoulders, trying to shake the crawling sensation running up my spine. Each step deeper into the dungeon felt like it was weighing me, deciding if I was worth the trouble.

“Great,” I muttered, my voice bouncing off the stone walls, coming back at me more hollow than I liked. “Welcome to the big leagues, Mort.”

My first solo mission. The Elite Dungeoneers figured I was expendable enough to send in alone. They had faith in me, right? Sure. About as much faith as you’d put in a disposable lighter on a windy day.

I took a step forward, and suddenly, something inside me flickered. Not pain, but a strange electric tingle running down my spine and spreading out into the stump of my left arm. My vision wavered, and for a second, I thought I saw something flash across my sight—a faint, almost metallic chime ringing in my head.

System Message: Cleric Level 1 Unlocked.

I froze. “Wait… what?”

I glanced around, half-expecting some godly voice to boom from above, explaining why I’d just unlocked some random ability like I was playing an RPG. But nope. Just me. Standing in a dungeon. Talking to myself like a lunatic.

“Cleric? Really? What am I now, a Dungeon & Dragons character?” I rubbed my face, letting out a long sigh. “Next thing you know, I’ll be unlocking Bard and serenading these things to death.”

But something had changed. I could feel it. A warmth pulsed beneath my skin, a soft hum just under the surface, different from the usual storm of necromantic energy that curled in my arm. This? It was softer, almost hopeful. A flickering light next to the dark chaos I carried around.

“Of course. Because juggling death magic wasn’t complicated enough. Now I get holy powers too. Great.”

With no divine intervention to clarify what was going on, I pushed the sensation down and kept moving. Deeper into the Maw. Each step felt heavier, the walls pressing in closer. My senses sharpened, not just from instinct, but from something more. The dungeon felt like it was watching, breathing, brushing its presence against me like cold fingers.

The deeper I went, the more it felt like the rules of reality were taking a day off. I took another step, and my vision blurred—before snapping back into something strange. Symbols flickered in front of me, like some kind of heads-up display. Stats, distances, a faint outline of the dungeon itself.

“What the hell?” I muttered, blinking rapidly. The display flickered, undecided if it wanted to stay visible or not. But the information was clear—hazards, life signs, distances—all laid out like I’d just stepped into a damn video game.

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“Okay. So now I have a built-in HUD. Fantastic. Just when I thought things couldn’t get any weirder.”

Still, I wasn’t going to complain. Weird or not, it was useful. Every crack in the stone, every shift in the air—I could sense it now. The Maw was alive, and somehow, I could feel its pulse.

“Lucky me.”

Another step, and the sensations flooded in. My necromantic arm buzzed with its usual dark energy, but now, beneath it, the warmth of this new cleric magic hummed, too. Opposite forces, like two rivers colliding, swirling just beneath the surface. If I wasn’t careful, I’d drown in it.

The deeper I went, the more intense it got. The Maw wasn’t just watching me. It was waiting. For what, I didn’t know. I didn’t want to find out.

That’s when I heard it. A skittering sound. Low, fast, coming from the shadows. The kind of sound that shoots straight to your primal brain and screams run. My eyes darted to the source. A rat. Or at least, something that used to be a rat.

This thing was no sewer vermin. It was the size of a house cat, with glowing red eyes and fangs that glistened like polished daggers.

“Yeah,” I sighed, “that’s about right.”

The rat’s eyes locked onto mine, blazing like tiny red hellfires. It hissed—not a squeak, but a low, dangerous sound. Its muscles bunched under its fur like it was deciding which part of me to tear into first. Not prey. Predator.

“Alright, Fangs McGee,” I muttered, raising my necrotic arm. “Let’s dance.”

The rat crouched, and that’s when I heard it—a hard knocking sound, like someone was clapping two wooden clubs together. I glanced down.

And I really, really wished I hadn’t.

The rat’s tail was armored, chitinous, segmented like a nightmare insect. At the end, a bone-white blade glistened, sharp enough to make me rethink this whole ‘rat’ situation.

“Oh, come on,” I groaned. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

System Message: Butcher Rat—Monster Discovered.

“Of course. Butcher Rat,” I muttered. “Because why wouldn’t it be?”

Then it moved.

One second, the rat was crouched. The next, it rolled into a ball—like an armadillo from hell—and came barreling toward me, that bladed tail spinning like a buzzsaw.

“Son of a—”

I barely dodged, the air slicing past my face as the rat slammed into the wall behind me. Stone chips exploded everywhere.

Before I could even catch my breath, I heard the knocking again. Louder. More of them.

I turned, and sure enough, a swarm of Butcher Rats skittered around the corner. Bigger ones, smaller ones, and one the size of a damn dog, its scythe-like tail twitching with deadly precision.

“Oh, fantastic,” I muttered, heart pounding in my chest. “Just what I needed. A whole horde of mutant vermin.”

The rats skittered toward me, their eyes blazing, tails scraping the stone with a high-pitched screech that set my teeth on edge.

I raised my arm, feeling the dark energy flare to life. “Alright, you overgrown furballs,” I growled. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

They charged. Tails spinning like sawblades, I had about two seconds to figure out how not to die.

No pressure.

I dodged to the side, barely missing one that rolled past like a murderous bowling ball. The second rat wasn’t so forgiving. Its bone-bladed tail whipped toward me, but I met it with my necrotic arm, dark magic flaring as the blade slammed into my arm. Sparks flew as the two forces locked.

I didn’t waste time. With the rat stuck, I jammed my knife into its belly, feeling the sickening give as the blade found its mark. It squealed, its body collapsing into dark vapor that flowed into my necrotic arm, feeding the twisted energy within.

I shook off the adrenaline. “Well, that’s new.”

But there wasn’t time to think. More were coming. If I didn’t keep moving, I’d be rat chow in no time.

“Who’s next?”

I barely took down another one before I heard it. A deep, resonating thud. Then another. The floor shook. The air trembled. I turned, just in time to see what was coming.

The boss had arrived.

It wasn’t just big. It was massive. Built like a bulldozer, with muscle rippling under fur and red eyes glowing with cold, calculating malice. This wasn’t just some dumb animal. It knew it had power.

“Centurion, huh?” I muttered, stepping back as it lumbered forward. “Of course there’s a boss rat.”

Its first swing was like a wrecking ball in slow motion. I barely dodged in time, the ground cracking beneath the weight of the impact.

I had seconds to figure out how to survive this.

And I wasn’t sure I would.