Narro woke in a cave — disoriented, but in one piece.

  He looked around, trying to get his bearings.

  The cave was wide. Very wide.

  Lit only from below, by a strange orange glow.

  Narro looked down — and flinched.

  Bubbling magma churned beneath him, filling the air with a thick, suffocating heat that scorched everything foolish enough to overstay its welcome.

  The scent of burning hair curled into his nostrils, branding itself into memory — just enough to make the cave hint that more unwelcome.

  “Great,” he muttered, shaking his head and trying to wake the Void. “Trapped in a volcano.”

  With a yawn and a lazy stretch, the Void stirred. She blinked once, took in the surroundings, then made a running start and launched herself through the bars of the cage onto the walkway outside.

  From there, she stared back at Narro — pure feline judgment condensed into a single glance.

  Clearly, this human was weak.

  She decided it could take a while and curled up again.

  ***

  At the top of the cavern, visible from every angle, hovered a glowing, humming blue gem.

  Attempt: 1, it read.

  The gem pulsed smugly, humming louder — as if it existed for no other purpose than to wait until the three beings inevitably plunged to their deaths.

  A sign flickered to life in bright neon-green letters:

  SAY THE MAGIC WORD!

  “No more riddles, please,” Narro muttered, rubbing his temples. He stared at the sign, then at the gem, trying to think of what it could mean.

  The cage shuddered, drifted closer to the walkway, and opened with a soft click.

  “‘Please’ is the magic word?” Narro guessed. Then shook his head. “Juvenile.”

  “Boo!”

  Reralt appeared directly in front of him, scaring him so badly he almost fell into the lava pit.

  “Reralt!” Narro shouted, clutching his chest. “You figured out the ridd—”

  He stopped, noticing the shattered remains of his cage on the walkway. Bent bars. Twisted metal. Something clearly not solved so much as broken.

  “Ah,” he said flatly.

  “Good,” Reralt grinned. “The maze — how do we get through it?”

  “I don’t know,” Narro sighed. “Kill everything, probably?”

  “Probably that thing,” Reralt said, pointing at the gem. “It sounds evil.”

  Narro stared at him, weighing his options. Arguing would be pointless, so he simply nodded.

  ***

  Achievement unlocked: Out of the Cages Without a Burn — Attempt 1.

  Reward: Map.

  A parchment shimmered into existence before them, hovering in midair. On it appeared the full structure of the dungeon — winding corridors, glowing markers, and a suspicious number of exclamation points.

  Reralt leaned in and pointed. “Penguins?” He frowned. “Surely not the most fearsome of creatures?”

  “We’re not going to talk about how the map just materialized out of thin air?” Narro asked, purely for the principle of the thing.

  “No,” Reralt said simply. “Grab a weapon.”

  He strode confidently toward a room that had definitely not been there before — the Weapons Chamber, apparently. After one quick lap, his face fell.

  “No sword?” His voice echoed, dripping with disappointment.

  Narro followed him inside. “No sword. You can take this little cleaver?”

  He held it out. Reralt examined the small knife as though it were a particularly uninspiring potato peeler. Then, with a sigh, he tossed it aside.

  Instead, he grabbed Narro in a swift motion and hoisted him onto his shoulder, flexing proudly. “Then these will be our weapons,” he declared, admiring his own biceps in the magma light.

  The Void tilted her head, meowed once — impressed.

  Achievement unlocked: Weaponless Fighters.

  Reward: +1 HP.

  They looked at each other.

  “Plus one what?” Narro asked.

  Reralt shrugged.

  ***

  In front of them, three doors appeared — each marked with a glowing symbol.

  Reralt kicked in the nearest one.

  A startled croak echoed from inside, followed by a brief, wet thud. Moments later, Reralt walked back out carrying three dead frogs.

  “Food?” he asked.

  “Could be,” Narro replied, letting the Void sniff the bodies.

  She sneezed. The frogs dissolved into a puff of white fog, leaving behind three small bundles — each with a single coin inside.

  Narro picked one up, rolling it between his fingers. “What are we supposed to do with these?”

  Dungeon Shop Now Open, the blue crystal pulsed cheerfully.

  Narro sighed and began scrolling through an invisible menu.

  Meanwhile, Reralt kicked open another door.

  A roar erupted — followed by the Void’s offended hiss. Three giant spiders came skittering out, took one look at Reralt, then turned and leapt into the lava in sheer panic.

  “This dungeon is boring,” Reralt said, disappointed.

  The Void padded over to the edge of the lava, peering in to see if there was anything left to play with. Then she looked back at Narro — clearly, this was his fault.

  Achievement unlocked: Hurtful Group.

  Reward: Indifference.

  Narro wrinkled his nose. “What?”

  Reralt looked up at the blue gem. “We hurt its feelings,” he said confidently. Then, louder: “Sorry!”

  The gem pulsed once in acknowledgment.

  Love what you're reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.

  “Still a boring dungeon,” Reralt muttered. He gestured to the Void and kicked open the final door.

  “Reralt, wait — I think I found the manual!” Narro called out.

  The Void immediately abandoned the doorway, fur bristling as a gust of cold air and snow blew through. Shivering, she retreated closer to the lava.

  Within minutes, Reralt emerged triumphantly, now wearing a headband made of black-and-white feathers.

  He struck a heroic pose. “Mumbles!” he shouted.

  Narro pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Please,” he said, opening the manual, “just… let me read.”

  ***

  “So, we’re in a dungeon,” Narro explained.

  Reralt looked around, squinting thoughtfully. “This is no ordinary dungeon,” he mused. Then, turning to Narro, “Is it?”

  “What are you doing?” Narro asked, puzzled.

  “Making it exciting.”

  Reralt sat down, arms crossed, wearing the expression of a man deeply betrayed by the concept of reading. “Reading a manual is not exactly the height of adventuring spirit.”

  Narro rolled his eyes. “Fine. Give me a second — I’ll make it ominous.”

  The Void padded over and sat beside them. An ominous manual explanation was something she couldn’t possibly miss. Also, she was hungry.

  Reralt rummaged through his spoils and pulled out a few penguin legs he’d taken from the chamber. Oddly, these hadn’t dematerialized. He nodded toward the Void, then held them over the lava to cook.

  “L-l-l-lava p-p-p-penguin,” he sang cheerfully, as if reenacting the world’s most overrated movie musical.

  ***

  “So, what have you made of it?” Reralt asked, picking a piece of penguin from between his teeth.

  The Void was curled up on his lap, purring contentedly. The food-giver was, unquestionably, her favorite human ever.

  “I made a song of it,” Narro said with a grin. “But first, we need to go through the last door.”

  He pointed to three doors deeper in the dungeon.

  “Pick the gold one,” he advised. “There’s a tough boss fight in there — a goblin.”

  The Void cracked open one eye, unimpressed. A single goblin? She yawned and went back to sleep. Clearly beneath her.

  Reralt rose to his feet and stretched, his joints popping in satisfaction.

  “You want to come?” he asked Narro politely. Then added, with one raised finger, “To watch. Don’t steal my kill.”

  Narro nodded. “Sure. Be careful — it’s labeled Boss, so it sounds dangerous.”

  “Please.” Reralt made a dismissive wave and pushed open the golden door.

  ***

  In front of them stood a small goblin — no more than half of Reralt’s height.

  Its helmet was two sizes too big, sliding down over its eyes. In its hands, it held a spear that glowed a faint, uncertain yellow.

  The goblin saw them, hissed something vaguely threatening, and took a battle stance. Then it charged.

  “Yes, well, the spear is clearly magical,” Narro observed dryly. Even he sounded disappointed. This wasn’t going to last long — Reralt would tear the thing in half before it got a second swing.

  The goblin threw the spear.

  Narro caught it without effort.

  The goblin froze.

  “Wait,” it said, blinking. “You don’t belong here… you’re not the usual three?”

  “Nope,” Reralt said. “Negotiation is not an option.”

  He punched the goblin square in the stomach. The creature folded instantly, collapsing to the ground with a pitiful squeak.

  “Wait, Reralt,” Narro warned. “It could have valuable—”

  But Reralt had already taken three running steps and kicked the little ball of goblin straight into the far wall. It hit with a solid thunk, leaving a perfect goblin-shaped dent in the stone.

  “Haven’t you learned anything?” Narro said, exasperated. “Last time you acted before thinking, you cost us Syril.”

  Reralt blinked, visibly remembering. He hurried to the fallen goblin and crouched down.

  “It’s still alive,” he said, smirking — but clearly relieved. “You can ask away.”

  The goblin stirred. Then it grew. Twice, three times its size — until the oversized helmet fit perfectly. A roar shook the chamber.

  Reralt looked at Narro hopefully.

  “Yes, yes, go ahead,” Narro said with a sigh.

  The goblin roared again, pounding its chest.

  Reralt crossed his arms and smirked.

  The goblin flexed.

  Reralt flexed back.

  The goblin realized he was in trouble. It sighed, resigned.

  Reralt grabbed it by the head and slammed it into the stone.

  Thunk.

  And again.

  Thunk.

  For good measure, he threw the heavy body toward the Void, who — purely out of principle — extended one paw and drove her claws in.

  The goblin dissolved into white smoke, leaving behind a small pouch. Inside were three coins.

  “Good,” Narro said, immediately opening the Dungeon Shop menu and buying a health potion.

  ***

  “So… the song now?” Reralt asked, brushing dust from his hands.

  “Yes. Then, after that door—” Narro pointed toward a passage glowing faintly gold, “—we go into the Maze.”

  “This isn’t the Maze?” Reralt blinked.

  “No,” Narro said patiently. “The song explains.”

  He cleared his throat.

  The Void lifted her head, ears twitching. A song? Finally, something worthy of attention.

  Narro took a breath, straightened his back like a reluctant bard, and began.

  ***

  (as sung by Narro, reluctantly accompanied by Reralt and the Void’s occasional yowl)

  A dungeon breathes, it blinks, it learns,

  It waits for every fool who burns.

  Survive it once and gold is yours,

  Five deaths still open silver doors.

  But if you fall beyond that line,

  The walls just laugh — “Bronze suits you fine.”

  Sing, brave fool, sing — the rules are carved in stone!

  The dungeon keeps the tally, and the gem sits on the throne.

  Gold for the flawless, silver for the brave,

  Bronze for the rest who forget how to behave.

  Each foe you fell will kindly pay,

  In clinking coins to light your way.

  The shop will trade your spoils dear,

  For blades, or luck, or useless gear.

  And every chamber hides a gem,

  To bless—or curse—the ones who tempt them.

  Sing, brave fool, sing — the rules are carved in stone!

  The dungeon keeps the tally, and the gem sits on the throne.

  Gold for the flawless, silver for the brave,

  Bronze for the rest who forget how to behave.

  This place was not for us to tread,

  Its stones recall another’s dread.

  Some other three, by gods designed,

  Were meant to test both heart and mind.

  Their names erased, their trials remain —

  The dungeon hums their ghostly refrain.

  Sing, brave fool, sing — the rules are carved in stone!

  The dungeon keeps the tally, and the gem sits on the throne.

  Gold for the flawless, silver for the brave,

  Bronze for the rest who forget how to behave.

  “But this,” said Narro, “is no mere den,

  It’s an arena, built by gods for men.

  A stage where mortals bleed for score,

  Forgotten eight long centuries more.

  The gem’s the keeper, cracked and odd,

  A lonely jailor serving absent gods.”

  Sing, brave fool, sing — the rules are carved in stone!

  The dungeon keeps the tally, and the gem sits on the throne.

  Gold for the flawless, silver for the brave,

  Bronze for the rest — may the walls be your grave!

  Narro nodded, satisfied after his song. He looked around and sighed.

  A slight tap woke both Reralt and the Void.

  “Ahh” Reralt yawned. “Let’s call that one ‘plot exposition song’.”