The staircase spiraled downward into silence, the walls shifting from rough stone to smooth metal plates as they descended. Flickering lights embedded in the walls cast pale blue glows across their path, like dying stars struggling to stay lit. Each step echoed too loud, too hollow—like the dungeon itself was holding its breath.

  Kaia slowed, running her fingers along the metallic wall. "This is... wrong. It feels artificial. Not just worked stone—something else."

  Thorin grunted. “Aye. Cold. Hollow. This isn’t like any cave I’ve seen.”

  John glanced around, squinting at the flickering lights, the too-clean angles, the humming undercurrent in the air. “You guys ever heard of the Death Star?”

  Kaia blinked. “The what?”

  “Never mind,” John muttered. “This whole place feels like someone tried to build a space station out of nightmares and old sci-fi movies.”

  Thorin ran a hand along the wall, his frown deepening. “Feels like walking inside a spell. But one made by a madman.”

  Kaia nodded. “The magic is… unfamiliar. Twisted. Layered with something mechanical. It’s not natural.”

  “Yeah,” John said, tightening his grip on his daggers. “Welcome to the Dungeon Star.”

  At the bottom of the stairs, a circular door stood closed—seamless, smooth, glowing faintly with soft red runes. The moment they approached, it hissed.

  Steam burst from hidden vents as the door split open with a low, mechanical groan.

  John stopped. “Don't let me get killed if I slip into a fanboy fantasy.”

  Thorin lifted his shield. “Ready?”

  “About as much as I ever am,” John said.

  Kaia raised her staff, light blooming faintly at its tip. “Stay sharp. This floor is different.”

  Together, they stepped through the doorway and into the final level.

  The corridor ahead stretched long and narrow, its walls lined with evenly spaced red lights that pulsed like a heartbeat. The floor panels clicked under their boots, some vibrating faintly as if reacting to their presence.

  John glanced around warily. “Yup. Definitely feeling like we just boarded an evil space station.”

  Kaia adjusted her grip on her staff. “There’s a strange hum in the air. Magical, but... tainted. It’s like the dungeon is pretending to be something else.”

  Thorin growled, peering ahead. “Don’t like this place. Want to smash it.”

  A low chattering echoed from around the bend.

  They slowed, weapons at the ready.

  From the far end of the corridor, a group of goblins marched into view.

  They wore white armor—badly made and clunky, oversized helmets bobbing with every step. Some carried short bows, others clutched strange, glowing rods fashioned from crystal and bone.

  John squinted. “No. No way.”

  One goblin lifted its rod and shouted something guttural. The others raised their weapons.

  “Ambush!” Thorin shouted.

  Arrows and spells were fired, and missed everything.

  One arrow clattered uselessly off the wall five feet to John’s left. Another glanced off Kaia’s shoulder without breaking the enchantment on her cloak.

  John ducked behind a pillar, laughing. “They’re literally worse than stormtroopers!”

  Thorin let out a loud roar—half battle cry, half frustration. The sound echoed through the hall like a beast’s call. The goblins flinched.

  Kaia raised her staff and launched a bolt of radiant energy, striking one goblin square in the chest. It fell backward with a squeal.

  John darted forward, daggers flashing, and took out another before it could reload its bow. The goblin’s helmet spun comically as it collapsed.

  The remaining goblins turned and ran, one tripping over its own feet and skidding into a wall with a crash.

  Thorin stomped after them a few steps. “Come back and fight, you cowards!”

  Kaia lowered her staff, eyes still glowing. “That was... underwhelming.”

  John leaned against the wall, catching his breath with a grin. “That was exactly what I needed.”

  They gathered themselves and pressed forward, deeper into the corridor, the echoes of goblin panic fading behind them.

  They slowed as the corridor opened into a wider chamber, the tension ebbing just enough for their muscles to ache. The walls here were less threatening—scuffed, dented, and covered in smeared grime like a maintenance hallway behind the scenes of a much flashier show.

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  A soft mechanical hum echoed from a side alcove.

  John tilted his head. “Uh... what is that?”

  From a shadowed doorway rolled a small, squat construct made of rusted bronze plating and mismatched arcane runes. It dragged a sack of garbage in one clawed hand and pushed a floor-scrubber enchanted with a glowing glyph in the other.

  Kaia blinked. “Is that… a golem, cleaning?”

  The golem turned toward them, one flickering red lens glowing in its boxy face. It gave a shrill beep, dropped the sack of trash, and rolled away without a word, disappearing into a service duct.

  Thorin raised an eyebrow. “That’s a first.”

  John snorted. “I feel like we just got judged for making a mess.”

  Kaia chuckled softly. “At least it didn’t attack us.”

  They lingered just a moment longer, catching their breath.

  John took a swig from his waterskin. “I swear, if this place throws another weird surprise at me, I’m going to assume this whole dungeon is a prank show.”

  “Then you’re the main character,” Kaia said, smiling faintly.

  Thorin grunted. “Let’s keep moving. The weird ones always come before the bad ones.”

  They continued down the corridor, the metallic clank of their footsteps echoing in rhythm. The lights above flickered now and then, casting strange shadows across the floor.

  “So,” John said, hands casually behind his head, “since we’ve got a minute… I feel like I should explain the whole Death Star thing.”

  Kaia glanced at him. “The giant death ball?”

  “Exactly,” John nodded. “So, imagine this moon-sized metal orb that flies through space and can blow up entire planets with a laser.”

  Thorin frowned. “Why would anyone need that?”

  “Power, fear, overcompensation,” John said. “Take your pick.”

  Kaia raised an eyebrow. “And this was a story?”

  “Movie. Very famous. There’s also space wizards with laser swords, an evil dad in a mask, and little green sages that speak in riddles.”

  Thorin snorted. “You’re making that up.”

  “I swear I’m not,” John grinned. “There were even desert-dwelling scavengers with glowing eyes and horrible aim.”

  They came around a corner and nearly bumped into a small patrol of goblins in pristine white armor. The goblins froze, weapons halfway raised. One stepped forward with surprising authority and pointed a jagged staff at them.

  “Hey,” the goblin said, voice muffled under its helmet, “you seen any intruders come through here?”

  John blinked, then grinned wide. He held out a hand to halt Kaia and Thorin.

  “These,” he said, waving his fingers slowly, “are not the intruders you’re looking for. They definitely went that way.” He pointed down a different hallway.

  A pause.

  [Charisma Check: SUCCESS]

  The goblin blinked behind the visor, then nodded. “Right. Sorry to bother you. Move along.”

  The patrol turned and marched down the hall, muttering about upping their perimeter coverage.

  As soon as they were gone, Thorin burst out laughing. “You serious? That actually worked?!”

  Kaia looked baffled. “Did you cast a charm spell? I didn’t see you use any magic.”

  John couldn’t contain his grin. “Nah. That was the Force.”

  Kaia blinked. “You have a spell called ‘force’ now?”

  John laughed harder. “Oh Kaia, we’ve got so much to catch you up on.”

  ***

  They entered a round chamber, the walls curved smooth and metallic, pulsing with faint blue light. A few overturned crates and cracked panels littered the floor, but otherwise the room looked abandoned—silent.

  Until something whirred to life.

  From a dark corner, a squat, wobbling golem rolled out. It was no taller than Kaia’s knee, built from twisted bits of scrap metal, dented buckets, and a single, blinking crystal eye. It squeaked as it moved, dragging a tangle of wires behind it like a tail.

  John stepped back. “Is that... is that a trash can with legs?”

  The golem chirped in reply, then a soft click sounded from its chest. A flickering blue light projected upward, casting a grainy, magical hologram in the center of the room.

  The image shimmered, then stabilized—an elven figure in mismatched armor, his face bruised and desperate.

  “If you’re seeing this... you must be the next group to reach the final floor,” the hologram said. His voice crackled with distortion. “There’s a barrier ahead. It blocks access to the rest of the dungeon—and to him. Dread Cloak.”

  Kaia’s eyes narrowed. “That must be the boss.”

  The image flickered again. “The barrier is powered by three mana stones—stabilized anchors located throughout this sector. You’ll have to destroy them to pass.”

  Thorin crossed his arms. “Let me guess. Heavily guarded?”

  “Expect resistance,” the recording confirmed. “And hurry. If Dread Cloak completes his ritual... he’ll escape the dungeon and unleash destruction on Highcairn.”

  The image trembled, static rising.

  “You’re our only hope. End transmission.”

  The projection faded, and the golem let out a sad mechanical whirr. Then it turned, rolled back into the wall, and disappeared behind a sliding panel.

  For a beat, no one spoke.

  Then John broke the silence.

  “Okay. That was 100% R2-D2, right? Just me?”

  Thorin grunted. “Didn’t understand half of it. But I heard ‘smash mana stones.’ That part’s clear.”

  Kaia smiled faintly. “Looks like we’ve got our objective.”

  John drew his daggers, sighing. “Of course we do. Let’s go wreck some magical infrastructure.

  ***

  They moved out of the projection chamber, following a glowing path on the floor that pulsed softly beneath their feet. Ahead, the corridor forked in three directions—each lined with pulsating red conduits, feeding toward some distant source of power.

  Kaia pointed toward the right tunnel. “I can sense a mana surge that way. First crystal?”

  Thorin rolled his shoulders. “Then let’s go punch it until it stops glowing.”

  John grinned. “Solid plan.”

  The room was guarded, but not impressively. Three goblins in dark robes stood before the crystal—each one holding a crude staff and muttering in unison. The crystal hovered in the air, pulsing with deep red light.

  One of the goblins looked up and squawked. “Intruders! You shall not—”

  Thorin threw his axe mid-sentence. It hit the goblin square in the chest and sent him flying into a crate.

  John dashed forward, ducking a firebolt, and shadow-stepped behind the caster. “You guys need new material,” he muttered, slashing once, then twice. The goblin dropped.

  Kaia unleashed a radiant wave that knocked the final robed goblin into the crystal with a shriek. The impact caused a massive surge, and then the crystal cracked with a loud shatter.

  The red light fizzled out. The chamber dimmed.

  “One down,” John said, dusting off his hands.

  The second tunnel was quieter—but the moment they stepped into the chamber, the ground shook.

  From the shadows lumbered a stone golem the size of a house, covered in wooden scaffolding and metal armor scraps. Goblins clung to its back, howling and waving crossbows.

  “Oh come on,” John muttered. “It’s a goblin AT-AT.”

  “Is that bad?” Kaia asked, already raising her staff.

  “Very bad.”

  The golem roared and stomped forward. One goblin banged a drum made of a barrel lid and shouted orders in an exaggerated deep voice: “Deploy the doom bolts! March of destiny!”

  Another goblin tried to fire a crossbow—and promptly shot his own foot. He toppled off the side with a yelp.

  Thorin sprinted forward and slammed into the golem’s leg, but his axe only chipped the stone.

  “We have to bring it down!” Kaia shouted. “Take out the supports!”

  John nodded. “On it.”

  He blinked through the shadows and reappeared on the golem’s shoulder, stabbing a rope holding the scaffolding in place. Goblins squealed as the platform tilted, several of them sliding off with comedic shrieks. Looking down, John sees what looks like a grenade. He smiled as he picked it up.

  The golem swung a massive arm, narrowly missing Thorin. The warrior responded by slamming his hammer into its knee. The armor cracked but held.

  John yelled to Thorin, "Keep it up, I've got a plan."

  Thorin landed strike after strike until he made a hole in the armor. John stepped out of his friend's shadow and leapt over him, pulling the pin from the found grenade and jamming it into the hole in the armor.

  "Run!" John screamed at Thorin, who was just standing there.

  The explosion rocked the golem, and it dropped to one knee.

  Thorin attacked the crystal embedded in its back with mighty hammer blows—red light flared, cracked, and then burst apart.

  The golem collapsed with a heavy thud. Dust settled.

  “Now that was a set piece,” John panted, hopping off the rubble.

  Thorin wiped goblin goo from his armor. “Still not the worst thing I’ve fought.”

  The final crystal chamber was high-tech—walls lined with glowing runes, rotating glyphs circling the floating crystal in the center.

  “No guards?” Kaia asked, stepping forward cautiously.

  The moment she crossed a glowing circle, the door slammed shut behind them. Magical runes flared red.

  “Oh good,” John muttered. “We triggered the security system.”

  Turrets descended from the ceiling—arcane cannons with glowing lenses.

  They fired.

  John dove sideways, rolling behind a console. Kaia raised a barrier, catching two blasts, but the third clipped her shoulder and sent her spinning.

  Thorin sprinted toward one of the turrets and hurled his axe into its core. Sparks rained down.

  “Shoot the runes!” Kaia shouted. “They’re powering the shield!”

  John blinked across the room, slashing at one glowing sigil. It sparked and vanished.

  Two more shots blazed across the room—one caught Thorin in the leg, staggering him.

  John hit the second rune. Kaia, from her knees, launched a final surge of magic into the last glyph. All three vanished in a flash of light.

  The crystal’s defenses dropped.

  Thorin limped forward and smashed it with a brutal overhead strike. The room fell silent as the third crystal shattered.

  As the mana field vanished, the wall behind them shimmered. A hidden door slid open, revealing the path to the dungeon’s final core.

  And then, from the vents above, tiny furry creatures tumbled out—about knee-high, covered in mossy fur, with wide eyes and leather belts made from scrap.

  They began to cheer. One beat on a helmet like a drum. Another waved a stick with ribbons.

  “Are those... dungeon Ewoks?” John whispered.

  One of them climbed up Thorin’s back and placed a leaf crown on his head.

  Kaia laughed, actually laughed. “Looks like they’ve adopted you.”

  John put his hands on his hips. “All we need now is a bonfire and a bad song remix.”

  Thorin just grunted, stoic beneath his crown.

  They turned to the open path—lights flickering ahead, the final door waiting.

  “Alright,” John said, flipping a dagger. “Let’s see what else this crazy dungeon has?”