The corridor that followed the cheering of the furry creatures was strangely quiet. The red lights dimmed to a faint pulse, and the air smelled like burnt oil and moldy parchment.

  John sniffed the air and made a face. “This place smells like a hot dumpster behind a wizard’s laundromat.”

  Kaia wrinkled her nose. “It’s getting worse the further we go.”

  “Good sign,” Thorin grunted. “Probably means we’re getting close to something important. Or vile.”

  They walked for another hundred feet, passing warped metal doors and broken panels sparking with low magic energy. Then the floor ahead changed—less metallic, more rubbery. Scuff marks lined the edges, and a faint mechanical humming filled the air.

  “Anyone else notice how clean it suddenly got?” John asked.

  Kaia slowed, looking down. “Something’s wrong with this floor.”

  Thorin took another step—

  The floor vanished beneath them with a loud KA-CHUNK.

  All three of them plunged into darkness.

  They landed with a squelch.

  John groaned and pushed himself up. “Ugh. What did I just faceplant into? Please don’t say bones. Or jelly.”

  Kaia coughed. “By the Gods, it smells bad.”

  Thorin sat up, covered in slime and bits of garbage. “We fell into a damned refuse pit.”

  The walls around them were high and metallic, curved slightly inward. Junk was piled everywhere—broken crates, rotting food scraps, shattered weapons, and things John didn’t want to identify.

  He picked up a crushed helmet. “Great. We’re in the trash compactor.”

  Kaia blinked. “What?”

  “It’s—never mind. Just trust me. We need to get out of here before—”

  A low mechanical groan echoed through the chamber.

  The far wall shifted forward a few inches.

  John paled. “Oh come on.I don't know weather to be annoyed or delighted.”

  Metal ground against metal. The walls started to move.

  Kaia scrambled to her feet. “They’re closing in!”

  “Yup! Full-on movie reference!” John shouted. “We’re in the trash compactor scene!”

  Thorin didn’t question it. He grabbed a piece of broken scaffolding and tried to wedge it between the walls—but it snapped almost instantly.

  Kaia raised her hands, glowing with magic. “I can make a barrier and try to hold it, but not for long!”

  John was already digging through the junk, eyes scanning. “There’s always an access panel—come on, come on…”

  Something slimy brushed his leg.

  He froze.

  “…Guys?”

  From beneath the garbage, a tentacled creature emerged—half shadow, half filth. A long, ooze-covered limb lashed out and wrapped around his ankle.

  “Okay! And there’s a monster! Of course, there’s a monster!”

  The tentacle yanked, pulling John off his feet and dragging him toward the sludge.

  Kaia turned, staff raised. “Thorin, get John I have to concentrate, and his whining is making it harder.”

  “So sorry to be an annoyance!” John shouted, kicking wildly.

  Thorin jumped up and sliced off the tentacle right below John's ankle. John landed face-first in the trash, groaning loudly.

  Thorin charged, swinging his axe downward to hack at another rising tentacle. The blade cleaved into the ooze and caught on something solid—bone? Metal? Thorin yanked it free with a snarl.

  “I’m going in after it,” he growled, wading into the thickest part of the muck.

  John’s head surfaced, gasping. “Nope! No! Tag out! This is the worst team-building exercise!”

  A tentacle snapped out and caught Thorin’s shoulder, spinning him around and slamming him into the trash pile. He roared and retaliated with a backhanded strike, severing the limb.

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  Kaia’s barrier spell flickered as the walls crept closer.

  “I can’t hold it much longer!” she cried.

  “I almost have it!” John shouted, lunging toward a sparking panel buried under a heap of cables. He slammed a boot into it—nothing. Slammed again—a hiss of steam, then the gears screeched and paused.

  The walls froze in place.

  The creature screamed and surged upward, revealing a bulbous, tentacled form made of slime, metal plates, and half-digested bones.

  John shouted, “NOW!”

  Thorin leapt, his axe glowing with Kaia’s last enchantment. It bit into the core of the creature’s chest—if it had one—sending a burst of corrupted mana bursting into the air.

  The creature let out a final shriek and collapsed into itself, sinking back into the muck.

  Silence returned.

  Then the wall opposite them opened with a clang, revealing a maintenance hallway beyond.

  They stood in the remains of the monster, panting, covered in filth.

  John looked down at his clothes and sighed. “I’m going to burn everything I own after this.”

  Kaia shook her head, catching her breath. “You said that last floor.”

  “Yeah,” John muttered. “But this time I mean it.”

  Thorin clapped him on the back, hard enough to splatter muck onto the wall. “You found the panel. Good work.”

  John grimaced. “Don’t touch me.”

  They limped into the corridor, dripping sludge behind them.

  “Please let the next room have a bath,” Kaia mumbled.

  John gave a weak laugh. “A shower, a snack, and someone to mind-wipe this from my memory. That’s all I ask.”

  And with that, the door slid closed behind them, sealing the trash behind as they stepped into the next challenge.

  ***

  The maintenance corridor was dark and narrow, lit only by flickering green strips along the ceiling. The walls were covered in grease and etched with what looked like goblin graffiti: crude stick figures of cloaked warlords, lightning bolts, and exaggerated goblin heads crowned in jagged thrones.

  John gestured at one. "I think that one’s supposed to be our boss. Or maybe it's a goblin with gas. Hard to say."

  Thorin grunted. “Smells like both.”

  They rounded a corner and entered what looked like a repair bay. Racks of mismatched tools hung from the walls, and arcane welders glowed in their cradles. Goblin engineers—at least a half dozen—scrambled across the room, working on busted constructs and half-built golem suits.

  One goblin with a welding mask looked up—and screamed.

  “INTRUDERS!”

  John held up a hand. “Wait, hold on. We’re with... uh... Maintenance Command?”

  [Charisma Check: Failed]

  The goblins immediately reached for tools, magic canisters, and one even strapped a rotating saw to a drone chassis.

  Thorin rolled his neck. “Guess we’re doing this the fun way.”

  The goblin drone buzzed toward them with a whirring saw arm. John threw a knife at it, sending it crashing into a stack of crates.

  John blinked. “Well, that escalated.”

  Two goblins mounted a half-complete golem, riding it like a siege beast. Sparks flew as it stomped forward, arms flailing wildly.

  Thorin met it head-on, axe ringing off its armor. Kaia hurled chains of light to snare its legs, buying John just enough time to leap up and jam a dagger into its exposed power crystal.

  The golem shuddered, sparked... and collapsed backward with its riders squealing.

  The remaining goblins threw wrenches, enchanted bolts, and even a boot.

  John caught the boot, looked at it, and tossed it back. “Gross.”

  They swept the room in a messy but effective skirmish. When the last goblin fled through a duct, Kaia leaned on her staff, panting.

  “That was unnecessarily chaotic.”

  “Which,” John added, wiping oil from his face, “makes it on-brand for this place.”

  Thorin cracked open a storage crate. Inside, among the junk, was a glittering dagger shaped like a jagged piece of rebar.

  [Item Acquired: Scrapfang – +2 Dexterity, +5% Critical Chance when filthy]

  John picked it up and blinked. “Why do I feel personally insulted by this weapon?”

  Kaia smirked. “Because it was clearly made for you.”

  He sheathed it with a shrug. “Fine. But I’m cleaning it first.”

  They regrouped near the back of the room, where a large blast door hummed with power.

  Before stepping through, John wandered back toward the tool racks, wiping a smear of oil from his chin. “Hold up. If there’s a weird item in here, I want first dibs.”

  He sifted through a pile of broken gear, pulling out a pair of goggles with cracked lenses, a feather duster attached to a wand, and something that resembled a rubber chicken... with fangs.

  Kaia peered over his shoulder. “That better not be cursed.”

  “Cursed?” John held it up. “This is a blessing. Look at this craftsmanship. Totally functional. Probably.”

  Thorin grunted. “Try poking the next enemy with it. We’ll see how blessed it is.”

  John stuffed it in his pack with exaggerated care. “Never underestimate the power of absurdity. You never know what’ll save your life in a dungeon like this.”

  He turned to Kaia. “Any readings on that blast door?”

  She nodded, glancing at her glowing staff. “Mana concentration’s building. Whatever’s past that door... it’s not ambient. It’s focused. Intentional.”

  John’s smile faded slightly. “So the final boss knows we’re coming.”

  Thorin stepped beside him, hefting his axe. “Let him wait. He’s not going anywhere.”

  They shared a look, then Kaia added, “Before we go in, we should check our supplies.”

  They sat for a moment, patching minor wounds, sharing rations, and reapplying enchantments. John quietly swapped out his old dagger for Scrapfang, twisting it in his hand.

  “I still think this thing is judging me,” he muttered.

  “Probably,” Kaia said dryly. “But it fits.”

  “Yeah,” John said with a grin. “It does.”. Beyond it, they could feel the mana pressure—dense, coiled, like a storm waiting to break.

  John looked at the others. “Ready for whatever’s next?”

  Thorin rolled his shoulder. “Born ready.”

  Kaia gave a small nod. “Let’s finish this.”

  They pressed forward, boots echoing against the metal flooring as the corridor stretched onward. The lights dimmed further, and the air grew colder—sterile, as if scrubbed of all scent.

  John trudged behind the others, dragging a foot slightly more than necessary. “You know what’s really bothering me?”

  Kaia glanced over her shoulder. “You mean besides the killer dungeon, trash monsters, and goblin cults?”

  “Yeah,” John said. “I came to a parallel universe, got roped into a death dungeon by a trickster god, and have nearly died like… twelve times.”

  Thorin grunted. “Probably more.”

  John held up a finger. “Exactly. And for all that? No magic sword, no cosmic artifacts, no bound demon lord.”

  He sighed dramatically. “Not even a lightsaber. I mean, if you’re going to rip off half of Star Wars, the least you can do is give a guy a glowing sword.”

  Kaia chuckled softly. “I don’t think the dungeon’s taking requests.”

  John muttered, “Should’ve filled out the comment card…”

  They reached a towering blast door at the end of the hallway, etched with jagged runes and flanked by eerie green flames that didn’t flicker.

  The door began to grind open with the groan of old machinery.

  John took a deep breath. “Alright. Last floor, last room, last boss. Let’s see what kind of nonsense awaits.”

  They stepped into the darkness beyond as the doors sealed shut behind them.

  They stepped toward the door as it began to slide open.

  The hallway beyond was wider than expected, lit by flickering red sconces and lined with decorative steel pillars shaped like twisted goblin faces. At the far end, a squad of goblins marched in a jittery patrol, their armor polished to a blinding shine. Each wore a pristine white chestplate, oversized helmets, and held crystal rifles that sparked with unstable energy.

  John froze. “Oh no. Goblin stormtroopers.”

  One of the goblins noticed them and raised a hand. “Halt! You lot seen any intruders? Small, sneaky types—bit stabby?”

  Kaia opened her mouth, but John threw an arm in front of her. He stepped forward, face calm, voice low.

  “These aren’t the intruders you’re looking for,” he said, waving his hand slowly. “They went that way.”

  [Charisma Check: Passed]

  The goblin narrowed his eyes. “Huh. That makes sense. Thanks, citizen.”

  The squad turned and hustled off in the opposite direction.

  Thorin let out a surprised grunt. “Did you just... Jedi them?”

  John grinned. “Nope. Used the Force.”

  Kaia blinked. “You have a charm spell?”

  “Not exactly.”

  Kaia shook her head. “That shouldn’t have worked.”

  John raised his hand again. “The Force is a pathway to many abilities some consider... unnatural.”

  Thorin chuckled, shaking his head. “I don’t understand half the words coming out of your mouth, but that was worth it.”

  They moved quickly before the goblins changed their minds, navigating past another corridor marked with more flickering lights and occasional sparks. The walls here bore banners—black cloth embroidered with the silhouette of a horned, cloaked goblin.

  “Looks like we’re in the front yard,” John muttered. “Final boss can’t be far now.”

  Kaia frowned as they paused at a junction. “We should take stock again. How many potions do we have left?”

  Thorin patted his pouch and pulled out a single crimson vial. “One. Maybe two sips.”

  Kaia opened her pack and checked. “I’ve got one mana potion. Half full.”

  John checked his inventory with a grimace. “I’ve got… a stale jerky stick, a bandage, and this glowing mushroom I forgot about. Does that count?”

  Kaia gave him a flat look. “Only if we want to hallucinate through the final fight.”

  He shrugged. “Might make it more entertaining.”

  Thorin grunted. “We’ll have to manage. No turning back now.”

  John nodded. “Just means we play it smart. No unnecessary heroics.”

  “From you?” Kaia teased.

  He grinned. “I said unnecessary. Doesn’t mean I won’t try something stupid if it looks cool.”

  They shared a tense laugh, but the weight of dwindling supplies lingered.

  “Alright,” Kaia said quietly. “Let’s finish this.”