Pov Brigita

  It was hard to keep standing, so I let myself slump down against the big backpack I wore. The ground was cold here, as it always was, but this was home—a home I never expected to have.

  I tried to stop them, but my tears still fell. It had been a hard life, but even if sometimes in my heart I missed my parents, I still remembered the last time I saw their faces, and after that, it was hard to call them anything but monsters.

  My life before that moment was fun. We lived in many hub stations as I grew up, always going downwards. There were a bunch of us children that had lives like that. I even remember one of the dungeon treks we had to do to get to another hub station. It was beyond scary to see all those monsters, but fortunately, it was the only time I remembered it, as we didn’t have to do that again.

  We still went downwards, floor after floor, when my parents made it deeper in. Now they could bring me with them, a change almost everyone liked. We were only allowed to use hub station gateways and nothing else. Otherwise, I was sure my parents would have brought me along to every way station.

  Of course, I didn’t know that at the time, but that was awful parenting, and while I hated being left to be cared for by others like many other children, now I know that it was the best option.

  Things got even more fun when we started to receive the children’s version of the quest necklace. Never had doing chores been so fun, and reading those boring books became enjoyable because if I finished them properly, I got rewards.

  Once again, this isn’t the best way to get children to do stuff—I’m pretty sure I’m addicted to rewards now—but it did help me survive those looks on my parents’ faces.

  That announcement that the dungeon was actually free changed everything. Many around us were so happy. We had known nothing else but the dungeon, but I was one of the few whose parents had only recently come to this dungeon, and I was the first child they had in the dungeon.

  So when they came home and started packing to leave, I was a bit sad that we were going. But as the minutes went by and I watched them pack, I started to notice that they weren’t packing anything that belonged to me.

  When I asked my mother what I should bring, those words still make me shiver—they were so cold. “We aren’t bringing anything tainted by this monster of a dungeon.”

  No matter how much I begged, they wouldn’t listen to me. After that, every time I tried to touch them, to grab hold of them, they would push me away—harder every time. The last push I remember rocketed me against the wall so hard that I blacked out.

  I wish I had come to when they were already gone, but I managed to regain consciousness just before they left. I was crumbling, bloodied, barely conscious, having cried the entire time. That was the image of me when they looked at me for the last time before they left.

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  I still don’t know exactly how to explain it, but I had never seen anyone look at anything with such disgust. It was like I was a piece of shit underneath their shoes, something so bad that the only way to get rid of it was to throw away the entire shoe.

  And just like that, I no longer had any parents—only tainted memories, ruined by the monsters they became. I wasn’t the only one left like that, but I think the way my parents treated me was the worst.

  Others still received hugs, even though I could see—though they couldn’t, because they were too young—that the affection was faked. The ones who had cared for us looked horrified. They had lived in this dungeon their entire lives, so it shocked them to see those who they once called friends act like this.

  There were a few fights, but nothing truly serious. For me, everything at that point felt so hollow. Then, that quest notification beeped, pulling me back from that horrifying space. Apparently, the ones who had cared for us decided to start an orphanage, and I had a quest to go and join.

  My legs wouldn’t move. I still remember that at the time only being thirteen I had already gone to the first floor a few times as part of a few different parties, with members a few years older than me.

  Not many wanted to be physical ranged damage dealers, but I liked using my bow. I was good at it, and the one that I had at that time was a reward for getting ten bullseyes in a row at 30 meters.

  I enjoyed the fighting, and I contemplated perhaps just running to a nearby gateway, going to the first floor, and trying to clear it myself. I had a good chance of doing so, but I also had a good chance of dying—and at that moment, I didn’t care.

  Then came a peep that changed my life. Many of us thought that perhaps the dungeon could read our minds, but we had confirmed amongst ourselves that that wasn’t possible, although it was really good at predicting our next decisions.

  My quest changed, and I received an option: I could either join the orphanage or go to the nearest gateway, enter the first floor, and clear two rooms, after which I would be rewarded with a backpack containing basic survival gear and enough food to last me a week.

  The quest also told me that it wasn’t a permanent choice and that I could always just return to the orphanage. It was exactly what I needed—but I never ended up returning to the orphanage.

  The quests gave me enough supplies to keep surviving, and as time went on, I started to enjoy the fighting more and more. The first floor, and every other up until the silver floors, should have changed every time I entered them, but no matter how long I was away, whenever I entered the first floor, it always brought me back to the one I entered three years ago.

  This entrance room had become my home. It was like a small apartment just for me. Yet now, everything I could bring was packed up, and everything that had at least a little bit of worth that I couldn’t bring was sold off.

  I had just reached silver rank and gotten to the first way station of the first silver floor. I would never be returning here, and it was so hard to let go. Now I also had a proper quest necklace and not the children’s version. It was time to move on—and go ever deeper.

  "Thank you, Father," I said to the empty air.

  For the longest time, I just called Father ‘Dungeon,’ but I have visited hub stations. Fortunately, the ones I had been to, I could still go to. There, I learned about the other worlds Father created and the creatures that came from them. I learned that all of them called the dungeon ‘Father,’ and as time passed, I started to call him that too. I do not know how healthy this is, but I honestly didn’t care what others thought.

  It was time to start exploring this wonderful collection of worlds and challenges Father had crafted for us.

  My steps were still heavy as I headed towards the gateway. Before I knew what happened, there was a flash, and I was in the first way station of the silver floor. It was time to gather as much information as possible and join the explorers and the runner’s guild.

  Then go and take coin from the old men who don't know how to control dice when they roll them—hopefully, getting me enough coin to purchase an expanded backpack, then jump ahead to the hub station to get away from the old men who would want their coin back.

  It was nice to have shortcuts, but I won’t take any except for this one. I tried to force the smile off my face, but it was so hard to do. It was going to be a fun day.

  Fortunately, in every hub station, there was a skill orb bigger than me that anyone could use to get any skill in it. If I understood correctly, the ones deeper would have even stronger skills, and I couldn’t wait to see what skills those had when I reached that far.

  I kind of wanted to hurry there, but then I would miss out on all the wonderful challenges along the way.