The abandoned subway station had been dead for eleven years. No trains passed through its subterranean tunnels, no frantic commuters hurried along its concrete platforms, and no announcements crackled from the rusted speaker horns dangling overhead.
Yet the station was not silent.
A faint, incessant scratching traveled through the darkness, accompanied by the wet clicking of claws against concrete. Beneath the wreckage of an overturned train carriage, a pair of pale, milky eyes snapped open.
The station had become a nest. Broken benches, shattered glass, corroded aluminum signs, and forgotten luggage littered the platform. Thick, obsidian roots had burst through the cracked flooring, spreading across the walls like pulsing veins that glowed faintly whenever the nearby Gate’s mana flared. Above the sealed street-level entrance, a faded metal sign still read:
[EASTERN TRANSIT LINE - PLATFORM 17]
Surrounding it were bright yellow Bureau placards:
[DANGER: F-TIER GATE. AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY]
Beyond the ticket hall, the Gate shimmered like a vertical tear in reality, its edges wrapped in twisting blue-white energy. The Bureau had classified it as F-Tier, but while its inhabitants- swarms of Cave Rats, Lesser Goblins, and Tunnel Crawlers- were individually weak, together in the cramped, poorly lit tunnels, they were lethal.
Further down, the creatures had formed an organized colony behind crude barricades of broken doors and bone piles. At its heart stood the Goblin Chief: a hulking, scarred brute clad in scavenged iron, wielding a rusted battleaxe and a carved bone horn used to command its horde.
...
At precisely nine in the morning, a heavy Bureau transport pulled up to the fenced perimeter. Raphael Matthews stared through the tinted window at the decaying station, swallowing hard.
’So this is my first dungeon.’
He had imagined something heroic. Instead, he was sitting in the back of a tactical vehicle while a team of heavily armed Awakened watched him like an unexploded bomb.
"Mr. Matthews," Captain Adrian Vale said, opening the door. "We’ve arrived."
Raphael stepped out into the cool air, immediately feeling the heavy, prickling pressure of the Gate’s mana. Elena stepped out behind him, her dark Bureau coat resting over light armor, a shortsword strapped to her waist. Dr. Liana Moss and two armed operatives brought up the rear, carrying mana scanners and medical kits.
"Officially, an F-Tier dungeon," Captain Vale noted, stepping toward the perimeter gate.
"Though that classification does not account for structural instability or unusual colony behavior."
"That sounds like a polite way of saying something could go wrong," Raphael said.
"It is."
Elena shot him a sideways glance. "You’re still smiling."
Raphael caught himself and flattened his expression. "Nervous habit."
"You should be nervous," Elena said cleanly. "You have zero combat experience."
"I have some."
"Running away from a Calamity Beast does not count."
"I was strategically retreating."
"You were unconscious."
"An extremely strategic retreat."
Elena’s lips twitched, though Raphael couldn’t tell if she was hiding a smile or contemplating hitting him. Captain Vale raised a hand, signaling an operative to activate the portable mana stabilizers flanking the tear. The energy shuddered, expanding into a wide portal that vented a draft smelling of damp stone, rust, and rot.
Deep inside, a faint scratching echoed. The operatives instinctively rested their hands on their weapons.
"Mana activity is stable," Dr. Moss reported, monitoring her tablet. "No unusual spikes."
Raphael looked at the swirling vortex. He quietly invoked his inner authority, summoning his sworn knight. A soft, violet luminescence flared beside him, warping the ambient air as Vanessa materialized, hovering inches off the asphalt. Her long black hair drifted weightlessly, her dark relic-staff held casually in one hand as her violet eyes locked onto the portal.
The moment she appeared, Dr. Moss’s scanner let out a sharp, high-pitched screech.
Vanessa cast a dismissive glance at the device. "Primitive."
"Good morning to you too," Raphael muttered softly.
"The mana within is terribly thin," Vanessa remarked.
"That’s a good thing, right?"
"It is disappointing."
Raphael leaned closer, keeping his voice down. "Please try not to bring the roof down today."
Vanessa turned her cold gaze onto him. "Do you believe I lack control?"
"I believe you have a personality problem."
Elena turned her head slightly to hide a reaction, while Captain Vale chose to look at the sky. Vanessa’s eyes narrowed, the pressure around her spiking briefly before she smoothed her robes. "I shall restrain myself."
"Everyone ready?" Captain Vale called out, drawing his sidearm.
Raphael took a deep breath, clenched his hands into fists, and stepped through the rift.
The world shifted instantly. Sunlight vanished, replaced by the freezing air and damp darkness of the subterranean platform. Broken fluorescent lights flickered wildly overhead, casting long shadows across a rusted, abandoned train resting on the tracks.
The Gate behind them shrank and disappeared. In his vision, a sharp interface materialized:
[DUNGEON DETECTED]
- Location: Abandoned Subway Dungeon
- Rank: F-Tier
- Main Quest: The First Step
- Time Remaining: 6 Days, 21 Hours, 47 Minutes
- Reminder: Host must personally participate in dungeon completion.
Raphael stared at the reminder, grimacing. The system wasn’t going to let him slide by as a spectator.
Before he could process the thought, a sharp, collective squeal echoed from the dark pit beneath the platform. Dozens of glowing red eyes ignited in the shadows, making his blood run cold. It was creepy, scary, and horrific. He could literally feel the bloody aura surrounding whatever they were.
Vanessa casually raised her staff, the already thin mana gathering around her in a small storm. Elena stepped directly in front of Raphael, her sword sweeping clear of its sheath with a crisp steel ring, while Captain Vale and his operatives took tactical positions.
The floor tiles shattered, and the first Cave Rat. It was the size of a bloodhound, with jagged yellow incisors. With a sharp cry, it leaped into the light. It was followed immediately by ten more, then a chattering, ravenous tide of fur and fangs.
Raphael took a slow, steady breath as the swarm surged forward.
’Right. Time to take the first step.’