If you're reading this, you've reached the halfway point of the Instance—I call them Dungeons, but this weird system insists on the other term. I wanted to write down what happened to me, just in case it helps someone else. You know, makes me feel like what I did mattered.

  Skylar turned the page, intrigued by what she was reading.

  If you haven’t figured it out yet, I was summoned here, just like you. My name is—or was—Aaron Summers. You might’ve heard of me.

  Skylar paused. Aaron Summers. The name rang a bell. A decade ago, a renowned boxer with that name had vanished without a trace. It had been a huge story—until it was swallowed by the endless churn of celebrity news.

  When I was summoned, the previous king, Lance, told me I was meant to be the last summon—the war with the demons was nearing its end. Years of fighting and hero summoning had drained the kingdom, and the demons were ready to surrender. All they needed was one final battle, and peace could be secured. Maybe even a new future, led by Lance’s son, Arthur.

  I asked why they needed me, and they told me: Summons like us have a unique affinity for magic. Our soul space is much larger than that of a normal citizen of this world—oh, you’re on Terra, by the way. Summons have been behind some of the greatest magical advancements and battle victories in history.

  Still, I had questions. I know TV painted me as a muscle-bound idiot, but I wasn’t about to kill people without reason. So, in secret, I worked with Prince Arthur to learn more about the demon folk. And you know what I discovered? They weren’t actually evil. Or even dangerous. The royal family had spent centuries brainwashing their people into believing otherwise.

  When we took this truth to the king, Noxis—the old fart you met— Skylar laughed. “I called him an old fart too!”

  —he stole my magic and murdered the king. Arthur and I fled. I managed to get him to demon territory, but I was chased into this forest—into this Instance. I made it here, and that’s where you come in.

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  If you’re reading this, then I’ve definitely bit it—the king of this place isn’t the type I could take down without my magic. But if you’ve gotten this far, you might just be made of stronger stuff than me. I’ve left some gear behind that might help.

  Skylar jumped back as a chest materialized in front of her, wreathed in shadow. Slowly, she reached out and lifted the lid. It creaked open.

  She grinned. “Now we’re talking! Finally, some actual gear.”

  Forged from the scales of the wraith chameleon, this armor blends seamlessly into its surroundings and phases through attacks. Significantly boosts stealth. Can become incorporeal three times a day, allowing the wearer to evade enemy strikes.

  Skylar pulled her hood up, inspecting the lightweight material. “That’s going to come in handy,” she muttered. “Testing will begin after this nap.”

  Without hesitation, she laid down, determined to use the five hours remaining to recover fully.

  Noxis sighed, tired of the pointless babbling in front of him—so he ended it.

  With a flick of his wrist, a ceremonial sword ripped itself from the wall and sliced clean through the neck of his former Chief of Commerce. The man’s head hit the marble floor with a dull thunk.

  “I don’t care what the peasants think,” Noxis snarled. “They do not keep me in power any more than a rabbit threatens a lion. Do not waste my time.”

  A man standing nearby, now drenched in the former chief’s blood, stepped forward.

  “Congratulations, Endis. You are the new Chief of Commerce.”

  Endis bowed, blood dripping from his hair. “As you wish, my lord.” He straightened. “All is well with the noblesse—they are still ecstatic over your recent reforms. Our coffers are full. We have everything we need to finish this war.”

  “Good,” Noxis said, leaning back in his gilded throne. “As it should be. The demons are an abomination, a scourge upon my rule. They will all burn, fuel for my grand republic.”

  The remaining chiefs bowed deeply, their devotion radiating in waves of blind obedience.

  “All hail the Everlasting King!” they chanted, their eyes alight with fervor.

  “Death to all who would defy him!”