Bell Cranell stood at the mouth of the Dungeon.
His heart beat loud enough to drown out everything—the clamor of adventurers, the echo of footsteps, the distant hum of magic beneath the stone.
He swallowed hard.
He really… really shouldn’t be here.
Not without a Falna.
Not without a Familia.
Not without anything except his grandfather’s old knife and a dream.
But—
“But I can’t wait forever…” he whispered to himself, gripping the knife hilt tighter.
Every time he passed through Orario’s streets, he saw them—real adventurers, strong and brave, returning with bags of monster stones and stories of heroism. People who were out there doing things while he sat in a rundown room wondering if any god would ever look twice at him.
He hadn’t managed to find a familia yet, and he was growing impatient.
So today he’d decided.
Just one look.
Just one step inside.
Just to see what the Dungeon was really like.
Bell took a breath and stepped past the archway.
The walls shifted—smooth, pale, impossibly alive. The air changed, becoming thicker, denser, humming like something aware of him.
He stopped instantly.
The Dungeon… felt like it was watching him.
Bell forced a shaky smile. “J-Just one peek… I’ll leave right away…”
===
Bell was lost
Bell had no idea how long he’d been walking.
Minutes?
Hours?
The Dungeon didn’t exactly offer landmarks—everything pulsed with that same sickly luminescence, the walls breathing like a giant creature inhaling around him.
“…This is bad.”
He turned left. Then right. Then back the way he thought he’d come.
He knew he should’ve never come in the first place.
But—
A guttural snarl cut through the air.
Bell froze.
Two goblins lurched from a side passage, their beady eyes locking onto him. A third crawled along the wall like an insect, drool dripping from its jagged teeth.
Bell’s breath hitched.
His grip tightened on the knife.
He raised it—bad stance, bad form, bad everything.
"NONONONONO— stay back!!"
One goblin screeched and lunged.
Bell slashed wildly—barely nicking its arm—before the second one tackled him to the ground. His knife skittered away across the stone.
The weight crushed the air from his lungs.
Claws dug into his jacket.
The third goblin shrieked triumphantly and raised its crude club—
A red blur slammed into it mid-air.
The goblin exploded into motes of light.
Bell gasped, trying to sit up as the remaining monsters hissed—only to be cut down in two swift, clean arcs of crimson energy.
The corridor quieted.
A girl stood there where the goblins had been—short, cloaked in red, holding a massive scythe that absolutely should not have been possible for someone her size.
Bell stared, mouth hanging open.
“...w-wh— how— you—” he stammered, voice cracking as he scrambled backward.
Ruby popped upright, brushing dust from her cloak as if she hadn’t just annihilated three monsters faster than he could blink.
“You gotta be careful!” she said cheerfully, though her eyes swept him for injuries like a worried medic.
Bell could only nod dumbly.
Before he could form a real sentence, the girl’s body dissolved into swirling red petals—vanishing down the corridor in an instant.
The Dungeon swallowed the silence that followed.
Bell’s knife lay forgotten on the floor.
His heart hammered against his ribs.
“I… I’m not imagining this, right?” he whispered to himself, staring down the empty hall where the strange girl had disappeared.
There was no answer.
Only the distant, hungry breathing of the Dungeon.
===
Bell wandered aimlessly through the streets of Orario long after the sun had set, his footsteps slow, dragging. The night air was cool, the lamps casting warm halos across the cobblestone, but none of it reached him.
His head hung low.
Every so often, he touched his chest—right where that strange girl had appeared like a miracle and disappeared like a dream.
“…I couldn’t even handle three goblins,” he muttered bitterly.
The words tasted like ash.
He had promised himself he’d become a hero. Someone strong. Someone who could protect others. Someone worthy of the stories—
But today, he’d been helpless.
And saved by a girl younger and smaller than him… who moved like she was born for battle.
Bell stopped under a lamp post, staring down at his trembling hands.
“I’m so weak…”
His voice cracked.
He clenched his fists, trying to hold himself together—but the frustration kept leaking through.
The streets in numb silence, the city lights blurring in his eyes.
Everything hurt—his pride, his lungs, his shaking hands.
He still saw flashes of red petals every time he blinked.
A single girl… had saved him like he was nothing but baggage.
He stopped beneath a quiet lamp post, shoulders trembling.
“…I’m useless,” he whispered, voice cracking. “I couldn’t even fight three goblins…”
He pressed a hand to his chest, feeling the ghost of panic still clinging there.
“I don’t even have a Familia. I don’t even belong here…”
A soft voice answered from behind him.
“…I wouldn’t say that.”
Bell jumped and spun around.
A small girl stood there—barefoot, messy twin tails, white dress a little too simple for the city’s glamor. Her blue eyes were bright even in the gloom.
She looked him over, taking in his bruises, his torn jacket, the way he hugged himself to stay steady.
“You look like you just got chewed up,” she said, walking closer. “Are you okay?”
Bell opened his mouth.
Nothing came out.
Her face softened.
“You’re shaking,” she said more gently. “Sit. Please.”
She guided him to the stone edge of a fountain without waiting for permission. Bell sat stiffly, still stunned that someone—anyone—was talking to him kindly.
“I’m Hestia,” she said, tapping her chest. “Goddess. Part-time couch sleeper. Full-time good listener. You?”
“B-Bell. Bell Cranel.”
“Well, Bell…” She leaned forward, elbows on knees. “You look like someone who had their first Dungeon scare.”
Bell flinched.
Her eyes widened. “Oh gods, that was it, wasn’t it?”
Bell sagged, defeated. “…I thought I could handle it.”
Hestia didn’t laugh. She didn’t scold.
She just looked at him with a softness Bell hadn’t felt in a very long time.
“It’s okay to be scared,” she said. “It’s okay to want to try.”
Then she smiled—bright and warm like a hearth.
“You just need someone to believe in you.”
Bell’s breath hitched.
No one had said that to him before.
Ever.
Hestia hopped to her feet and stuck out her hand.
“Well? Do you want someone like that? Because—” she winked, “—I happen to be in the market for my very first adventurer.”
Bell stared.
His eyes stung.
“You… you’d take me?” he whispered.
“Of course!” Hestia said, puffing out her chest proudly. “I’m starting a Familia, and you seem like someone who won’t give up even when he’s terrified. That’s exactly the kind of person I want.”
Bell’s fingers clenched around his knees.
A moment passed.
Then, slowly—shakily—he reached out and took her hand.
“I… I’ll do my best. Goddess.”