Aurora and Cleia had returned to Velgrastede, the Demon King's Castle looming like a jagged crown against the darkening sky.
Aurora let out a long breath as he stepped into the throne room. "So I just wait for a notification in case there's a dungeon report?"
"Certainly," Cleia replied calmly. "It could take a few minutes. Or a few days."
Aurora blinked. "Possibly days? …Let's hope it won't get to that point."
With a faint groan of boredom, he dropped himself onto his obsidian throne and leaned back, staring up at the vaulted ceiling.
"I'll rest for now," he muttered. "Wake me if anything happens."
Minutes stretched lazily across the silent hall.
Then, without warning, a translucent panel flickered into existence before him.
Rank 7 Dungeon Occurrence. Coordinates attached in full description.
Aurora shot upright, a grin spreading across his face. "Finally. I was starting to think it would actually take days."
He stood, brushing invisible dust from his coat. With a subtle shift of magic, his attire changed into something more suitable for fieldwork. Lighter armor. Reinforced sleeves. A cloak bearing his crest. He adjusted his hair in the reflection of a polished pillar and gave Cleia a small nod.
"I'll be back."
In a swift moment, Aurora arrived close to the designated coordinates.
He hid behind a tree after a few more thoughts running through his mind and studied them quietly.
One tank. Heavy armor, tower shield.
Two assassins. Light gear, twin blades.
And a mage. Staff already humming with stored mana.
Balanced.
"Hey," Aurora called as he approached. "I assume I'm in the right place. You needed a healer?"
The group looked him over briefly before nodding.
One of the assassins spoke up. "First dungeon?"
Aurora gave a small nod.
"No need to be nervous. Just stay behind us, Heal when needed. That's about it."
"Sounds like a plan," Aurora replied.
They turned toward the distortion.
It hovered several meters ahead of them, suspended in the air like a vertical pool of liquid starlight. Its surface rippled in slow, unnatural waves, bending the trees around it as if reality itself was unsure how to behave near it.
Aurora studied it carefully.
Portals.
Or more precisely, Overspaces.
Portals were not simple tears in the air. But temporary bridges connecting Earth to another world somewhere within the same universe. Every Portal led to a dungeon. And every dungeon was, in truth, a different planet entirely.
For reasons no scholar fully understood, these Overspaces manifested unpredictably across Earth. Cities. Deserts. Forests. Even once, in the middle of the ocean.
If a Portal was not closed quickly, its stability would decrease.
And once that happened, the monsters native to the other world would begin crossing over.
What started as a dungeon raid could turn into an invasion.
Aurora had seen reports. Entire districts overrun because a team failed to destroy the Anchor in time.
Each dungeon had one.
An Anchor was the stabilizing core of the Overspace. It could take many forms depending on the world: a living organism, a relic, a planetary seed, or in this case—
"A World Core," the mage confirmed, adjusting his glasses as he skimmed the system display. "Crystalline structure. Likely central. Highly defended."
Destroy the Anchor, and the Overspace collapses.
But once destroyed, the collapse begins immediately.
"You'll feel it when it happens," the tank said, tightening his grip on his shield. "The air fractures. The sky cracks. We get maybe five minutes before the Portal implodes."
"And if we don't make it out?" Aurora asked lightly.
The assassin gave him a flat look. "Then we become part of that world."
Charming.
Aurora stepped closer to the Portal's shimmering surface, feeling its pull against his mana.
"Are all Gates like this?" he asked.
The mage hesitated.
"Almost."
A brief silence followed.
"There is something else," the tank added quietly. "But it's rare."
"How rare?" Aurora asked.
"One in ten million," the mage replied. "Statistically insignificant. But not impossible."
Aurora turned slightly.
"Fragmented Gates," the assassin muttered.
Corrupted Overspaces.
Unlike normal Portals, which linked to other planets within the same universe, fragmented Gates were unstable distortions. Warped. Torn. As if something had clawed at the structure of space itself.
And they did not lead to another world.
They led elsewhere.
To a dimension scholars had named Nihiloth.
A realm of entropy and collapse.
No stars. No stable ground. No coherent sky. Just a fractured expanse of writhing matter and spatial distortion. Time behaved inconsistently there. Gravity folded. Sound sometimes moved faster than light. Creatures from Nihiloth did not resemble life as humanity understood it.
Thankfully, such Gates were nearly myth.
Recorded once in all of history, luckily for humanity the hero Veyra was able to win over it.
Aurora exhaled slowly.
"Well," he said, a faint smile forming, "let's hope today isn't one in ten million."
The assassins stepped forward first, blades ready.
The tank positioned himself in front.
The mage began weaving a detection spell.
Aurora adjusted his cloak and flexed his fingers, feeling healing magic gather in his palms like liquid light.
"Alright," he said. "Let's clear this dungeon."
Together, they stepped into the Portal.
Reality bent.
Light stretched into ribbons. Sound flattened into silence. For a fraction of a second, Aurora felt suspended between Earth and something vast and distant.
Then gravity returned.
They stood beneath a crimson sky.
Jagged obsidian spires pierced the horizon. The ground pulsed faintly beneath their boots, as if the planet itself had a heartbeat.
Somewhere in this hostile world, a crystal core waited.
And once it shattered, the race against the collapsing dimension would begin.
Aurora looked around the dungeon, letting the ambient magic of the new world seep into his senses. "Finally… I can put my healing powers to real use," he muttered under his breath. "And with the Interface upgrades, I might even make use of my other abilities"
He focused, flexing his fingers, and suddenly his body shimmered, fading from sight until he was fully invisible. "This will be… useful," he thought. "Better to observe from behind and support the team."
Ahead, the other members had already taken their positions. The tank planted his feet firmly, shield raised, while the assassins moved with fluid precision, knives flashing through the dim crimson light of the dungeon. The mage's staff glimmered faintly, spells already humming in readiness.
A wave of grotesque monsters emerged from the shadows, lizard-like brutes with serrated claws, smaller goblin-esque creatures darting around them, and a towering figure with four eyes glaring red in the gloom. Aurora's senses tickled; the Interface allowed him to track not just health but movement patterns and intent. He could see the paths the monsters would take almost before they moved.
"So they've fought together before," Aurora murmured, impressed. The team moved like a single organism, each covering the other's blind spots.
One of the assassins lunged at a trio of goblins, blades a blur. A sharp hiss of steel, then a grunt as one of the goblins slashed back, catching him across the leg. Blood seeped through his leather armor. Aurora's arm extended reflexively, a soft glow washing over the wound. The cut closed, stitching itself with faint sparks of energy. He could feel the healing energy branching like tributaries, automatically prioritizing threats and damage across the team.
As the wave pressed forward, Aurora projected a faint aura of disorientation from his invisible form, causing monsters near the edges to hesitate, their steps misjudged, making them easier targets for the assassins. A few weaker goblins tripped over their own limbs, giving the team a slight advantage without ever breaking the natural flow of combat.
The tank called out, shoving a hulking brute back. "Watch the left flank!"
Aurora shifted slightly, his enhanced perception alerting him to a hidden corridor. A small cluster of spider-like creatures was moving to ambush the mage. He whispered under his breath, and with a flick of mana, a subtle barrier formed around the mage's back—barely perceptible, but enough to deflect the incoming claws.
Minutes passed, every swing of a sword or swipe of magic amplified by Aurora's careful interventions. The last monster of the first wave, a twisted brute with jagged spikes along its back, lunged toward the tank. Aurora leapt forward invisibly, projecting a faint force pulse at the monster's legs. It stumbled just enough for the tank's shield strike to crush its head.
"First stage cleared," the mage panted, lowering his staff. "Well done."
Aurora's body shimmered back into visibility, his aura flickering slightly. "Not bad," he said quietly, though the way the group moved in sync made him grin. "This is going to be fun."
The team advanced to the second stage. The air shifted, tinged with a heavier magic. The walls glimmered faintly, reflective like polished crystal, casting distorted shadows that moved independently of the light.
"This stage is different," the tank murmured. "Environmental hazards, keep your eyes open."
No sooner had the warning left his lips than twisted vines erupted from the floor, reaching toward the team with preternatural speed. Aurora's body flowed between them, invisible once again. He cast kinetic dampening zones over the vines—localized fields that slowed movement, forcing them to grow sluggishly. The assassins took advantage, slashing through vines before they could entangle anyone.
Meanwhile, a second wave emerged: winged creatures, each small but vicious, attempting to flank the team from
et him predict their trajectories. He cast a subtle deflection barrier, barely visible, nudging the winged creatures off course, so that they clipped walls or each other instead of the group.
The mage hurled fireballs, each enhanced by Aurora's aura to subtly home in on the creatures' weak points. The tank held firm against an onslaught of larger vine creatures, while Aurora healed each blow almost instinctively, channeling multiple threads of energy to every member simultaneously.
One assassin slipped, pinned briefly by a vine. Aurora's mana shot out, forming semi-solid constructs, lifting the assassin clear and pinning the vine in place. Not damage, not attack—just utility, perfect for keeping the flow of combat intact.
By the time they reached the second wave's anchor—a glowing crystal pulsating with corruption—the team had taken minimal casualties, thanks to Aurora's subtle manipulations. He whispered a spell that amplified everyone's reflexes slightly, synchronized with the tank's push and the mage's firestorm. Together, they shattered the crystal.
The Dungeon shuddered violently. Aurora turned invisible again, anticipating the collapse sequence. The group sprinted toward the gate as chunks of dungeon world began folding in on themselves. Rocks hovered unnaturally, then dropped, and fissures tore open across the floor. Aurora's subtle kinetic shields protected the group from falling debris as they ran, making the escape almost effortless.
By the time the group emerged back onto Earth, panting but unharmed, Aurora faded back into visibility, a faint smile on his lips. "Not bad for a first real dungeon run," he said. "And this is just the beginning."