“Yooo! Friendly here! Please don’t kill me!”

  My shout echoed across the chamber, bouncing off the towering walls and massive columns. Instantly, every pair of eyes, corrupted and humanoid alike, turned toward me. Weapons were raised, claws twitched, and for one tense, breathless moment, the chaos paused.

  Then, as if to remind me just how chaotic things really were, a defender hurled a rock at me with terrifying accuracy. I barely threw myself to the side in time, the stone shattering against the ground where I’d just been standing.

  “What the fuck, man!” I shouted, straightening up.

  From the survivors’ side came a sharp retort. “Who are you?”

  “Seriously?” I huffed, more baffled than angry. “People don’t usually ask for introductions after attacking!”

  Silence answered me, though I could see the defenders whispering among themselves. I sighed. “Fine, fine! I’m Alex. Let’s just say I’m a traveler and leave the rest for later. What about that?”

  The same voice shouted back, “What do you want?” before they hurled another rock, not at me this time, but at the corrupted creatures. The missile slammed into one of them, and several broke off from the barricade, snarling as they turned in my direction.

  “I’ll try to lure them away!” I called, taking a cautious step back. “Just stop provoking them for a while, alright?”

  There was a hushed exchange on the defenders’ side. From my closer vantage point, I could finally make out their forms. They weren’t human, they were reptilian, their pale, hexagonal scales gleaming faintly under the bioluminescent light. Human sized but distinct, with a sleek and primal look. I activated Inspection, but it didn’t work.

  It did, however, work on their attackers.

  They looked almost identical to the defenders on the barricade, strong, proud, and unmistakably Drak’nir, except for the grotesque marks of corruption that had ravaged their bodies. Open wounds festered across their scales, oozing with blackened ichor, while infected sores pulsed like something alive beneath their skin.

  But it wasn’t just their bodies that had been disfigured; their eyes were windows to their torment. Hunger and despair swirled within their bloodshot gaze, a haunting blend of primal need and lost humanity. It was impossible not to feel a pang of sorrow as I watched them.

  These weren’t just monsters, they were the same people who had once built this magnificent city. The same people who had thrived for maybe thousands of years in this unforgiving underground world, mastering its secrets and creating beauty from stone. Now, that legacy was shattered, their minds and bodies twisted by corruption, forced to prey on the very families they once loved and protected.

  It was a cruel fate, and the weight of it hung heavy in the air, suffocating in its tragedy.

  Corrupted Drak’nir (Level 76)

  The Drak’nir adapted to the underground environment over thousands of years, creating sprawling cities and modifying the local ecology to suit their needs. After centuries of resource wars, the dominant faction flourished, until corruption invaded their domain.

  So these humanoids were fighting their own corrupted kind. I couldn’t even imagine the toll that must’ve taken on them. Just the thought of fighting another human, even a corrupted one, made me uneasy.

  The largest of the defenders stepped forward, his voice booming. “Why would you do that?”

  I didn’t hesitate. “I’m just trying to help. I’ll lure them away and give you guys some breathing space.”

  He studied me for a long moment before nodding, signaling his group to stop their attacks.

  The corrupted Drak’nir tried to capitalize on the sudden ceasefire, charging toward the barricade. I didn’t give them the chance. Leaping in front of the horde, I drove my spear straight through the nearest one’s chest. The rest turned on me, their unified scream cutting through the air like nails on a chalkboard. My skin crawled, and my heart hammered in my chest.

  But I kept my nerve. Leaping backward, I hurled an energy dart into their midst. It pierced through one of them with a sickening squelch, and the horde screamed again. Then they charged.

  I ran.

  I didn’t get far before they began catching up. At the last second, I vaulted onto the roof of a one story building and dropped down farther ahead. They followed, climbing and leaping after me like rabid animals. The chase led through alleyways and crumbling structures, and with every turn, more corrupted creatures joined the horde. By the time I reached the winding stairs leading upward, almost a hundred of them were on my heels.

  Sweat dripped down my face as I sprinted up the pathways, careful to keep just far enough ahead to bait them.

  I pressed onward, climbing the winding stairs deeper into the abandoned city. The once thriving streets were now a labyrinth of decay, debris scattered across the paved paths like remnants of a forgotten era. Most of the homes were simple, one story buildings, but their walls told a different story. Intricate carvings adorned every surface, depicting scenes of ancient glory, daily life, and celestial dragons soaring through an endless sky. I couldn’t help but wish I had the time to truly admire them.

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  At first, the layout of the pathways seemed chaotic, an intricate web of suspended bridges, narrow staircases, and crisscrossing streets. But as I moved deeper into the city, patterns began to emerge. The design wasn’t random; it was calculated, purposeful. The suspended pathways were cleverly detached from the main structures, a safeguard in case of cave ins. Every turn, every elevation shift, seemed to follow an unspoken logic.

  Despite the density of the buildings, the city didn’t feel suffocating. Balconies and open courtyards were scattered perfectly, allowing light and airflow to break up the monotony of stone. It was a marvel of engineering, a testament to the Drak’nir’s mastery of underground living.

  I was so captivated by the design, the beauty of its functionality and the haunting remnants of its former grandeur, that I became careless. My distraction cost me, and for a fleeting moment, I forgot the danger that still lurked in the shadows.

  I thought I had everything under control until I passed in front of a ruined building.

  Two corrupted Drak’nir leaped from the shadows, slamming into me. We fell to the ground in a tangled mess. I managed to stab one through the neck, black ichor gushing from the wound, but the other pinned me down with its clawed legs. Its rotten breath hit my face as it snarled, and I struggled to push it off, the horde already closing in.

  Suddenly, an arrow sprouted from its throat. The creature gurgled and collapsed on top of me. Wasting no time, I shoved it off, gasping for air, and bolted up the stairs again.

  Finally, I reached the highest point of the city, a long lookout perched at the edge of a crumbling parapet. The entire city stretched out below me, an intricate maze of stone and light. It would’ve been breathtaking if I wasn’t seconds away from being torn apart.

  The horde surged toward me, a sea of twisted bodies and gnashing teeth. My back was to the edge, the drop below at least a hundred feet. I gripped my spear tightly, my breathing ragged, and waited.

  Timing it almost perfectly, I leaped backward over the parapet. For a single, heart stopping moment, I was weightless. Then I activated Levitation.

  The corrupted Drak’nir surged after me in blind fury, their momentum carrying them over the edge. A waterfall of bodies plummeted to the ground, the sickening sound of bones breaking echoing through the cavern.

  Some managed to stop just short of the fall, turning their bloodshot eyes toward me as I hovered just out of reach. I landed softly behind them and finished the stragglers off one by one, their snarls turning to whimpers as I dispatched them.

  When it was over, I stood amidst the silence, panting. The pile of broken bodies at the base of the cliff was a gruesome reminder of just how close I’d come to dying.

  But I wasn’t done yet. Turning back toward the barricade, I made my way down to the survivors.

  I quickly made my way back and stood in front of the barricade. The Drak’nir who had spoken earlier perched on the ramparts, his piercing eyes locked onto me. He didn’t say anything at first, just watching me with a guarded expression.

  “I’m Alex!” I called out. “I don’t know how much you know about the universe, but I’m from another world.”

  He didn’t seem surprised by my declaration, just cautious.

  “What brings you to our world?” His tone was calm, but his grip on the bow in his hand stayed firm. There was no arrow nocked, though. I took that as a good sign.

  “Well… to kill corrupted creatures, mostly,” I said.

  That made him angry. His scales bristled as he glared down at me. “So my brethren are nothing more than sport for you?”

  I waved my hands pleadingly. “No, nothing like that! I know what corruption does, and I’m just trying to help however I can.”

  He was silent for a long moment, his eyes searching mine. Finally, he asked, “How do you speak our language?”

  It was a question I’d thought about before, especially during my time with the elves. My best guess? A system thing.

  “I honestly don’t know,” I admitted. “To make a long story short, there are countless beings beyond your world, and there’s a sort of… system governing most of it.”

  He snorted, unimpressed. “We’ve been battling creatures jumping through tears in the fabric of reality. We know we’re not alone.”

  Before the conversation could continue, another Drak’nir pushed his way to the front. He was hunched over, supported by two others, his scales pale and cracked with age. His voice was raspy and labored, but it carried authority.

  “Korzath,” the elder rasped, “this is no way to treat a guest, let alone someone who fought alongside us.”

  The big Drak’nir, Korzath, looked like he wanted to argue but bowed his head instead. With a wave of his hand, a rope ladder was dropped over the barricade.

  Not needing a second invitation, I started climbing.

  When I reached the top, a ring of Drak’nir warriors encircled me. They weren’t raising their weapons, but their tense posture made it clear they were on edge.

  The elder stepped forward and gave me a slight bow. “I am Drakorr. These fine people you see around you had the bad idea of relying on my wisdom.” He chuckled softly, his smile weathered by time.

  I returned the bow. “I’m Alex, from a world called Earth. I’ll be honest, I’m pretty new to the whole ‘multiple worlds’ idea, but I’ll share what I know.”

  Drakorr nodded appreciatively. “Follow me.”

  He turned to his people. “Back to your posts. Korzath, come with us.”

  Korzath grabbed a pickaxe resting nearby, gripping it protectively as we descended a set of stone stairs into the heart of their settlement.

  We ended up in a large hall, lined with cots along the walls. Drak’nir in various stages of corruption filled the space, some restrained, others struggling against their bonds. The air was heavy with desperation and quiet suffering.

  At the far end of the hall was a massive mural carved into the stone, depicting dragons soaring across an open sky. The detail was intricate, almost reverent, and the elder gazed at it with a deep sadness.

  “Those were our ancestors,” Drakorr said softly. “We did not originate in this world. They fled here long ago.”

  “Why?” I asked, curiosity piqued.

  He sighed. “It was thousands of years ago, so no one knows for certain. The tales speak of a great evil descending from the heavens, and only a small faction managed to escape.”

  Korzath shifted uncomfortably. “Father, maybe we should leave the myths for later.”

  The elder smiled faintly. “We’re dragons, boy. Never forget that.”

  I cleared my throat, pulling their attention back. “Here’s what I know: your world is going through something called unanchoring. It happens when the reality barrier starts eroding, letting corruption take hold.”

  Korzath’s expression tightened. “Is there a way to stop it?”

  I hesitated, not wanting to give them false hope. “I’ve been told it’s extremely difficult, near impossible but I know someone far more knowledgeable than me. I’ll ask him.”

  “Where is this mysterious person?” Korzath asked skeptically.

  I smirked. “I’ve been here a few hours. Give me a few more, and we’ll have an answer.”

  That seemed to placate him, for now.

  Drakorr whispered something to the Drak’nir supporting him. One of them disappeared into a nearby tent and returned with a tray holding steaming cups.

  “We can’t offer you much,” Drakorr said, his voice kind, “but we haven’t forgotten our manners.”

  He handed me a cup, giving a pointed look to Korzath, who reluctantly accepted one as well.

  I took a sip of the dark liquid. It was bitter, like unsweetened tea, but the warmth was comforting.

  “I appreciate it. What is this?”

  “Tea,” Drakorr replied. “We cultivate it from mushrooms deeper underground. But we haven’t been able to get more for a while.”

  “Why not?”

  The elder sighed. “A horde of monsters has taken over our farming caves. We’ve been surviving on rations and small gardens, but it’s been difficult. The monsters grow stronger and push us back further each day.”

  I set the cup down. “If there’s time, why don’t I help out a little?”