Eli Grady slumped over his kitchen table, staring at a steaming mug of co?ee that looked as tired as he felt.

  The cup, adorned with the logo of some tech startup he couldn’t remember applying to, seemed to mock him.

  “World’s Okayest Employee,” it read. Accurate, if not generous.

  Outside, the gray sky threatened rain, which Eli ?gured would just add to his day’s growing list of inconveniences.

  First, his toaster betrayed him by burning his last slice of bread. Then, his neighbor’s insu?erable cat, Mr. Meowington,

  vomited on his doorstep again. And now, the cherry on top: an email from his boss asking for the ?fth rewrite of a

  project nobody cared about. “Corporate synergy,” they’d said. Whatever that meant.

  “Another day in paradise,” Eli muttered, dragging his feet to the couch. His plan for the weekend was simple:

  avoid human contact and lose himself in whatever sci-? series the streaming algorithm threw at him.

  That’s when it happened.

  The air shimmered like a heatwave, and the room suddenly felt too small, too bright. His co?ee mug trembled,

  spilling its contents onto the table. The walls of his apartment ?ickered, then stretched unnaturally, as if reality

  itself were bu?ering. A booming voice erupted from nowhere and everywhere at once.

  “WELCOME, CONTESTANTS, TO THE APOCALYPSE SURVIVAL SIMULATOR!”

  Eli froze mid-sip, co?ee dribbling down his chin. “What the hell?”

  “THIS IS YOUR CHANCE TO PROVE YOUR WORTHINESS. ONLY THE STRONG SHALL SURVIVE. ONLY THE CLEVER SHALL RISE.

  AND ONLY THE LUCKY SHALL LIVE TO SEE TOMORROW.”

  Eli blinked, wondering if this was some elaborate prank. Then his TV sparked to life, displaying a horrifyingly

  cheerful mascot—a grinning pixelated cube named System Steve. Steve waved an unsettlingly realistic hand.

  “Hi there!” Steve chirped. “Don’t worry, folks, it’s all part of the fun! Your world has been chosen to participate in

  our brand-new, totally-not-deadly dungeon experience! Please remain calm as we prepare the playing ?eld.”

  Eli stared at the screen. “I... I didn’t sign up for this.”

  Steve’s grin widened. “Nobody did!”

  And with that, the world outside his window dissolved into chaos

  Eli stumbled back from the couch as his apartment began to collapse in on itself—or rather, shift into something entirely di?erent.

  The carpet under his feet morphed into cold stone, the beige walls twisted into jagged black bricks, and his once pitifully small

  window expanded into a gaping archway revealing... utter chaos.

  Outside, the street was unrecognizable. Where his crumbling apartment complex once stood, jagged towers of metal and stone

  rose into the stormy sky. Neon lights ?ickered with nonsensical advertisements—“+5% Stamina Fries!” and “Karen’s Krusty Kitchen: Now Hiring!”—while blood-red banners ?apped violently in the wind, emblazoned with a crest of a laughing skull. Giant creatures,

  half-monster and half-machine, lumbered through the streets, their footsteps shaking the ground like an earthquake.

  Eli peeked out of the archway, squinting at the street below. A group of people—neighbors, coworkers, random strangers—were sprinting down the street, chased by what appeared to be a humanoid vending machine. The machine’s lid ?apped open and shut, launching spiked soda cans like grenades. One unlucky soul tripped over a loose cobblestone, only to be promptly engulfed by a cloud of ?zzy carnage.

  “Right,” Eli muttered. “De?nitely not just a dream.”

  “HELLO AGAIN, CONTESTANTS!” System Steve’s cheerful voice boomed through the air like an overenthusiastic infomercial host.

  “Your ?rst challenge is to reach the nearest safe zone without dying horribly. Should you succeed, you’ll earn access to healing facilities, starter equipment, and—if you’re lucky—delicious food!”

  The pixelated mascot’s face appeared on every surface, from glowing street signs to the side of a nearby monster’s leg. Steve’s unblinking smile did little to comfort Eli.

  “Failure,” Steve added in a chipper tone, “is highly discouraged. Remember: the longer you survive, the more exciting things get!”

  Eli stared in stunned silence as his kitchen table—his last bastion of normalcy—collapsed into a pile of rubble, exposing a hidden

  trapdoor. A glowing arrow appeared in midair, pointing straight at it. “STEP INSIDE FOR YOUR TUTORIAL EXPERIENCE,” a robotic voice announced.

  “Oh, sure,” Eli grumbled, clutching his head. “Let’s just dive right into the hell-pit. Because that’s always a great idea.”

  As the vending machine monster lobbed another explosive soda can outside, Eli decided he didn’t have much of a choice. With a

  deep breath and an impressive string of profanity, he opened the trapdoor and climbed inside.

  The tunnel below was dimly lit, with glowing lines of code pulsing along the walls like veins. The air smelled faintly of burning

  rubber, and the faint hum of machinery echoed around him. Eli kept moving, carefully avoiding what appeared to be pressure

  plates on the ?oor. He wasn’t about to end his life by triggering some death trap involving laser beams or—knowing his luck— giant staplers.

  The glowing arrow reappeared, leading him to a large, circular room. At its center was a podium with a large, glowing orb.

  Hovering next to it was a screen displaying System Steve, who was now holding a clipboard and wearing a comically oversized pair of glasses.

  “Welcome to the Tutorial Chamber, Eli Grady!” Steve announced. “Before you ask: yes, we know your name. No, you can’t opt-out.”

  “I ?gured,” Eli deadpanned. “Let me guess. You’re about to tell me how ‘fun’ this is going to be.”

  Steve ignored the sarcasm, gesturing to the glowing orb. “This is your Personal Starting Package?! Inside, you’ll ?nd items tailored

  to your unique skillset and personality. Please note: refunds are not available. Any attempt to reject your assigned gear will result in immediate vaporization!”

  Eli sighed and reached for the orb. It pulsed once, then exploded into a shower of light. When the glow faded, he found himselF

  holding... a stapler.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he muttered.

  “Congratulations!” Steve chirped. “You’ve unlocked the *Bureaucrat Starter Kit!* Remember: in the right hands, even the humblest tools can become instruments of destruction!”

  Eli stared at the stapler in disbelief. “I’m going to die.”

  Steve beamed. “Not with that attitude! Now, on to your ?rst real challenge...

  The glowing orb vanished, leaving Eli standing in the middle of the tutorial chamber clutching a stapler.

  He turned it over in his hands, half-expecting it to transform into a sword or shoot laser beams. It did neither.

  “Alright,” Eli said, glancing around the empty room. “Where’s the part where you tell me this is all a joke?”

  “Ah, the Denial Phase,” System Steve said, hovering closer on the screen. “A classic response! Now, if you’re done

  sulking, we have a challenge to complete!”

  Before Eli could argue, the walls of the chamber began to tremble. Sections of the ?oor shifted, forming uneven tiles

  and deep chasms. The ceiling split open, and from the darkness above, something began to descend: a giant pair of glowing

  red eyes and the unmistakable sound of metal grinding against metal.

  “Your ?rst adversary,” Steve announced, “is the mighty O?ice Golem!”

  With a loud crash, the creature landed in front of Eli. It was a monstrosity cobbled together from what appeared to be

  o?ice supplies—a hulking mass of ?ling cabinets, broken printers, and stacks of dusty paperwork. Its "arms" were

  massive staplers, and its “head” was a computer monitor displaying an angry emoji.

  Eli stared at it. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  The O?ice Golem roared, spewing a cloud of toner dust into the air. A status bar appeared above its head, reading:

  **Boss: O?ice Golem (Level 3)**

  Steve’s voice chirped from the side. “Good luck! Remember: the key to survival is creativity, persistence, and a complete disregard for your own dignity.”

  The golem lunged, one massive stapler-arm slamming down inches from Eli’s head. He scrambled backward, clutching his

  pitiful stapler like a security blanket. “How am I supposed to ?ght that thing?”

  “Your *Bureaucrat Starter Kit* includes all the tools you need,” Steve replied helpfully. “Just believe in yourself!”

  “Belief isn’t going to help me beat a stapler kaiju!”

  The golem swiped again, this time grazing Eli’s shoulder. He stumbled, nearly losing his footing as the ?oor cracked

  beneath him. Desperation kicked in. He ducked behind a crumbling pillar, breathing hard.

  Think, Eli. How do you defeat an o?ice monster?

  His eyes darted to the stacks of paperwork spilling from the golem’s chest. Then it hit him. The creature wasn’t just made of o?ice supplies—it *ran* on them.

  Grinning despite himself, Eli rummaged through the starter pack hanging at his waist. Alongside the stapler, there was

  a stack of blank forms labeled **Standard Complaint Forms: Version 37B.**

  “Hey, big guy!” Eli shouted, stepping out from behind the pillar. “You look like you could use some paperwork!”

  The golem hesitated, its glowing eyes narrowing. Eli hurled a form at its chest. The paper slapped against its metal surface, sticking there like a taunt.

  The golem roared and charged, but Eli was ready. He dodged to the side, grabbing more forms from the pack. Each one he

  threw seemed to slow the creature down, its movements becoming jerky and disorganized.

  “That’s right,” Eli muttered, feeling a spark of con?dence for the ?rst time. “Nobody likes bureaucracy.”

  With one ?nal throw, Eli hit the golem square in the face, the paper lodging itself in the cracks of its monitor-head.

  The creature froze mid-step, its status bar ?ashing red. Then, with a

  sputtering whine, it collapsed into a pile of useless junk.

  The room fell silent.

  Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  “Congratulations!” Steve’s voice rang out, startling Eli. “You’ve successfully defeated your ?rst boss! I knew you

  could do it. Well, mostly.”

  Eli stared at the remains of the golem, breathing hard. “I can’t believe that worked.”

  Steve’s face appeared on the nearest wall, looking as smug as ever. “And now, for your reward...”

  A treasure chest materialized in the center of the room, glowing faintly. Eli approached it cautiously, half-expecting

  it to sprout legs and attack him. When it didn’t, he opened the lid.

  Inside was a single item: a tie. Not just any tie, though—this one shimmered with a faint golden light. Its description

  read: **Corporate Tie of Authority: Increases Persuasion by 15% and Reduces NPC Aggression.**

  Eli held it up, squinting. “Seriously?”

  “Every hero starts somewhere,” Steve said. “Now, onward to Level One!”

  Before Eli could protest, the ?oor beneath him gave way, sending him tumbling into the abyss.

  Eli hit the ground with an unceremonious thud, landing face-first on a patch of uneven cobblestone. Groaning, he rolled onto his back and blinked up at a swirling vortex of storm clouds high above. Somewhere in the distance, a monstrous roar echoed, followed by what sounded suspiciously like a giggling hyena.

  “Fantastic,” Eli muttered, sitting up. “First a stapler monster, and now—” He froze mid-sentence.

  The landscape before him was a twisted parody of a medieval town square. Half-crumbled buildings lined the streets, their walls covered in flickering neon signs advertising items like +5 Health Pies and The Potion Depot: Buy 1, Get 1 Doom Free! A statue in the center of the square depicted a knight locked in combat with what looked like a giant rubber duck. The knight was losing.

  System Steve’s face appeared on a billboard overhead. “Welcome to Level One, Contestants! This quaint little hamlet has everything you need: shops, challenges, and of course, monsters! Your first objective: Survive the Gauntlet to reach the first Safe Room!”

  As if on cue, a loud metallic grinding sound drew Eli’s attention to a nearby alleyway. Out stepped a hulking creature that looked like a cross between a gorilla and a garbage truck. Its glowing red eyes locked onto Eli, and a growl rumbled from its rusted frame.

  “Oh, come on,” Eli groaned. “I just got here!”

  The creature charged, its massive fists pounding the cobblestones as it closed the distance. Eli scrambled to his feet and bolted, weaving between overturned carts and piles of rubble. Behind him, the garbage-gorilla roared, smashing everything in its path.

  “Any tips, Steve?!” Eli shouted, ducking under a falling lamppost.

  “Run faster!” Steve replied cheerfully, his face now displayed on a passing hot dog cart.

  Eli cursed under his breath and rounded a corner, only to find himself face-to-face with another contestant—a wiry teenager armed with a comically large mallet. The kid’s eyes widened when he saw Eli.

  “Dude, behind you!” the kid shouted.

  “I know!” Eli snapped, sidestepping as the garbage-gorilla barreled past. The teenager swung his mallet with a grunt, connecting with the creature’s side. It staggered but didn’t fall, its red eyes blazing brighter.

  “Great,” Eli muttered. “Now it’s angry.”

  The gorilla lunged at the kid, who yelped and dove behind a stack of crates. Eli glanced around desperately, spotting a precariously hanging sign above the creature’s head. Without thinking, he grabbed a nearby rock and hurled it at the sign’s rusty chain. The rock hit its mark, and the sign—Karen’s Krusty Kitchen: Now Hiring!—came crashing down, flattening the gorilla.

  The kid peeked out from behind the crates. “Whoa. That was awesome!”

  “Awesome isn’t the word I’d use,” Eli replied, brushing dirt off his shirt. “Effective, maybe.”

  Before the kid could respond, Steve’s voice boomed from the sky. “Congratulations, Contestants! You’ve survived your first encounter! As a reward, you’ve each earned 10 XP!”

  Eli raised an eyebrow. “XP? What am I, in a video game?”

  “Technically, yes,” Steve said, his face appearing on a nearby fountain. “Now, I suggest you hurry along. The Safe Room won’t stay open forever!”

  The teenager stood and offered Eli a hand. “I’m Jake, by the way. You saved my butt back there.”

  “Eli,” he replied, shaking the kid’s hand. “And don’t mention it. Seriously, don’t mention it. I have no idea what I’m doing.”

  Together, they made their way down the chaotic streets, dodging smaller monsters and looters. At one point, a chicken with glowing eyes squawked menacingly at them, but Eli waved it off with his stapler, and it clucked angrily before wandering away.

  Finally, they spotted the Safe Room—a neon-lit fast-food joint with a flickering sign that read Karen’s Krusty Kitchen. The sight was both ridiculous and oddly comforting.

  Eli pushed open the door, and a wave of warm, greasy air hit him. Inside, other contestants were scattered across the room, munching on burgers and fries while a giant TV screen played the day’s highlights.

  Steve’s pixelated face appeared on the TV. “Welcome to your first Safe Room! Here, you can rest, recover, and enjoy our world-famous Dungeon Deluxe Combo?! Don’t forget to check out the recap reel to see how your fellow contestants are faring—or not!”

  Eli and Jake exchanged a glance.

  “This is insane,” Eli said, collapsing into a booth. “But at least the fries smell good.”

  “Better than getting crushed by a garbage monster,” Jake replied, grabbing a menu.

  Eli leaned back and closed his eyes, trying to process the insanity of the day. If this was just Level One, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know what came next.

  The calm inside Karen’s Krusty Kitchen was surreal, like finding an air-conditioned oasis in the middle of a raging desert.

  Eli wasn’t sure what was stranger—the fact that a fast-food joint was a designated Safe Room or the way the contestants inside seemed to act like it was just another Tuesday.

  Across the room, a hulking man with arms the size of tree trunks was meticulously dipping fries into a small cup of neon-yellow sauce. Nearby, a woman in a business suit argued with an NPC cashier, insisting that her “Dungeon Rewards Points” entitled her to an extra-large soda.

  “Do they not realize this is life or death?” Eli muttered, shaking his head.

  Jake chuckled, biting into a burger that smelled suspiciously like barbecue-flavored regret. “People cope in different ways. Some of us eat.”

  Before Eli could respond, the TV mounted above the ordering counter flickered, its screen dominated by System Steve’s grinning face. “And now, it’s time for our Daily Recap?!” Steve announced in a voice that was just slightly too cheerful.

  The screen cut to a highlight reel of the day’s most dramatic moments: a contestant wielding a flaming hammer smashing through a horde of pixelated rats; another being unceremoniously swallowed whole by what looked like a sentient trash heap; and, of course, Captain Hero—a buff, overly heroic figure who seemed to revel in slow-motion shots of his absurdly flashy kills.

  Eli grimaced. “This guy again.”

  “Oh, you’ve heard of him?” Jake asked, sipping a soda labeled “Dungeon Cola: +3% Sugar Rush!”

  “Yeah. He’s impossible to avoid.” Eli gestured to the screen, which showed Captain Hero flexing over a defeated boss while the words MVP OF THE DAY flashed in bright gold letters. “This guy’s practically the dungeon’s mascot.”

  Jake shrugged. “At least he’s making progress. I mean, you’ve got to admit, he’s—”

  “Annoying,” Eli interrupted.

  Before Jake could respond, the TV cut to a grainy shot of Eli himself, throwing the rock that brought down the sign on the garbage-gorilla. Steve’s voice narrated the clip: “And here we have newcomer Eli Grady, using unconventional tactics to dispatch his first enemy. Innovative! Clumsy! Almost impressive!”

  Eli groaned, sinking lower in his seat as the other contestants turned to stare at him.

  “Dude,” Jake said, stifling a laugh. “You’re famous.”

  “Fantastic,” Eli muttered, covering his face. “Just what I needed.”

  The recap ended, and Steve’s face returned to the screen. “That’s all for today, folks! Remember: the dungeon waits for no one. Safe Rooms will close in T-minus twenty minutes, so please gather your things and prepare for your next challenge!”

  Eli groaned again as contestants began gathering their gear and heading for the exit. Jake nudged him. “Hey, at least you’ve got that stapler.”

  “Yeah, great. Maybe I’ll staple Captain Hero’s cape to the floor and call it a day.”

  Despite his complaints, Eli stood and slung his starter pack over his shoulder. Outside the Safe Room, the stormy sky glowed with faint streaks of red, and the distant sound of something large and growling echoed through the streets.

  “Ready?” Jake asked, gripping his mallet.

  “No,” Eli replied flatly. “But let’s get this over with.”

  As the doors of Karen’s Krusty Kitchen slammed shut behind them, locking with a metallic hiss, Eli felt a sinking realization settle in his gut. This was only the beginning.

  The wind whipped through the desolate streets as Eli and Jake trudged forward, their footsteps echoing against the cracked pavement. Every shadow seemed to ripple with menace, and the glowing red streaks in the stormy sky made Eli feel like he’d stepped into the cover art of a heavy metal album.

  “So,” Eli said, breaking the silence, “any idea what this next challenge is going to be?”

  Jake shrugged, adjusting his grip on the oversized mallet. “Not a clue. But if it’s anything like that garbage monster, we’re in for a bad time.”

  “Great. I can’t wait,” Eli muttered, clutching his stapler with an enthusiasm bordering on non-existent.

  As they rounded a corner, the ground beneath them began to rumble. Eli froze, his eyes darting to the cracked pavement as a series of glowing lines lit up in a grid-like pattern. Jake stepped back, gripping his mallet tightly.

  “What now?” Eli groaned.

  The answer came in the form of a loud metallic screech. From the center of the grid, a large hatch burst open, and out crawled a monstrous spider-like creature made entirely of office chairs and tangled Ethernet cables. Its eight glowing eyes fixed on them, and a metallic voice echoed from its body.

  “WELCOME TO THE NETWORK! INITIALIZING FIREWALL TEST.”

  “Firewall test?” Eli repeated. “Are you kidding me?”

  The spider hissed and shot out a web of cables, narrowly missing Eli’s head. Jake didn’t hesitate, swinging his mallet into one of the spider’s legs. The creature screeched and skittered backward, its movements jerky and unpredictable.

  “Got any bright ideas?” Jake shouted as the spider began circling them.

  Eli’s mind raced. The creature’s legs looked weak, but its body—essentially a rolling office chair on steroids—was heavily armored. “Hit the legs!” he called out. “If we can knock it over, it’s done for!”

  Jake nodded and charged, his mallet slamming into one of the spider’s legs with a satisfying crunch. The creature stumbled, one of its glowing eyes flickering, but it retaliated by shooting another web of cables, this time pinning Jake’s arm to the ground.

  “Uh, a little help here!” Jake yelled, struggling to free himself.

  Eli hesitated. The spider turned its attention to him, its glowing eyes narrowing as if sizing him up. With a deep breath, he reached into his starter pack and pulled out a handful of complaint forms. “Let’s see how you like bureaucracy!” he shouted, hurling the papers at the spider.

  The forms stuck to its legs, and for a moment, nothing happened. Then, the spider began to convulse, sparks flying from its joints as the glowing lines on the ground started to glitch. Its movements slowed, and it let out a distorted shriek.

  “Keep hitting it!” Eli yelled to Jake.

  Jake freed himself with a grunt and swung his mallet into another leg. The spider let out one final screech before collapsing into a heap of broken office chairs and shredded cables. The glowing grid on the ground flickered once and went dark.

  Panting, Jake turned to Eli. “Remind me to never question the power of paperwork again.”

  “Duly noted,” Eli replied, wiping sweat from his brow. “Now let’s get out of here before something worse shows up.”

  As they walked away from the wreckage, a familiar voice boomed from the sky. “CONGRATULATIONS, CONTESTANTS! YOU HAVE PASSED THE FIREWALL TEST. PLEASE PROCEED TO THE NEXT CHECKPOINT.”

  Eli groaned. “Next checkpoint? Why do I feel like it’s only going to get worse from here?”

  Jake clapped him on the shoulder. “Because it probably will.”

  With a resigned sigh, Eli adjusted his pack and followed the glowing arrows that appeared on the ground, guiding them to their next challenge.

  Eli squinted at the glowing arrows on the ground, trying to make sense of their constantly shifting directions. “Do these things have an actual destination, or are they just messing with us?”

  Jake shrugged, swatting at a neon butterfly that flitted too close to his face. “It’s probably both. You’ve seen how Steve operates.”

  “Right. I forgot—logic is optional in this nightmare.”

  The path led them through a crumbling alley where vending machines with glowing eyes hummed ominously. Eli tightened his grip on the stapler, half-expecting another soda grenade to come flying out of nowhere. Fortunately, the machines only stared as they passed, their lights flickering like a warning.

  As they emerged into an open plaza, Eli froze. “Uh, Jake? Tell me I’m imagining that.”

  Jake followed his gaze and groaned. In the center of the plaza stood a massive contraption that looked like the unholy fusion of a photocopier and a tank. Its “barrel” appeared to be a giant toner cartridge, and its treads crushed everything in their path as it patrolled the area.

  Above it, a glowing label read: TONER TANK 9000. BOSS LEVEL WARNING.

  “I hate this place,” Eli muttered.

  “We need a plan,” Jake whispered, ducking behind a toppled streetlight. “That thing will shred us if we just rush in.”

  Eli glanced around the plaza, his brain scrambling for ideas. His eyes landed on a stack of crates marked High Explosives—Handle with Care, sitting conveniently close to the tank’s path.

  “Those look promising,” Eli said, pointing. “Think you can distract it long enough for me to set something up?”

  Jake raised an eyebrow. “You want me to distract the death tank?”

  “Well, you do have the big hammer,” Eli replied with a grin that was only half apologetic.

  Jake sighed. “Fine. But if I die, I’m haunting you.”

  As Jake darted out into the plaza, waving his mallet and shouting obscenities at the tank, Eli sprinted toward the crates. The tank swiveled its turret toward Jake, firing a stream of black toner that left a sizzling trail on the ground. Jake rolled out of the way just in time, his mallet smashing into one of the tank’s treads.

  Meanwhile, Eli ripped open one of the crates and found several sticks of dynamite. “Of course this place has dynamite,” he muttered, quickly bundling them together. With a few improvised steps involving duct tape and a rubber band from his starter pack, he fashioned a crude timer.

  “Eli, anytime now!” Jake yelled, narrowly avoiding another blast of toner.

  “Hold on!” Eli shouted back, setting the dynamite in the tank’s path. He scrambled back behind cover just as the Toner Tank rumbled forward, its treads crushing the explosives.

  The explosion was deafening, a wave of heat and debris knocking Eli off his feet. When the dust settled, the Toner Tank was a smoldering wreck, its glowing label flickering before fading out completely.

  Jake staggered over, covered in soot but grinning. “Okay, I’ll admit—that was a pretty good plan.”

  Eli coughed, brushing ash off his jacket. “I’m full of good plans. Just don’t ask for another one until I’ve had a break.”

  Before they could catch their breath, System Steve’s face appeared on a nearby billboard, clapping sarcastically. “Bravo, contestants! That was… passable. As a reward, you may proceed to the next challenge. Oh, and don’t forget—things only get harder from here!”

  “Of course they do,” Eli muttered, glaring at the billboard.

  With the arrows reappearing on the ground, the duo trudged forward, the smouldering remains of the Toner Tank disappearing into the distance.

  The path led them deeper into what Eli could only describe as “Dystopia Central.” Crumbling buildings loomed on either side, their neon signs flickering ominously. One particularly unhelpful sign read: Warning: Proceed at Your Own Risk! (Sponsored by Karen’s Krusty Kitchen).

  “You ever get the feeling this dungeon is just a giant joke at our expense?” Eli asked, sidestepping a glowing pothole that crackled with electricity.

  Jake snorted. “What gave it away? The death tank or the exploding soda cans?”

  “Honestly, it’s the corporate sponsorships for me,” Eli replied, pointing to another sign advertising Dungeon Cola: Refreshingly Fatal!

  Before Jake could respond, the ground beneath them shook. Eli barely managed to grab a lamppost for balance as the street cracked open, revealing a glowing pit filled with writhing tendrils.

  “Fantastic,” Eli muttered. “What fresh nightmare is this?”

  From the pit emerged what could only be described as a tentacled abomination. Its body was a writhing mass of cables, wires, and glowing monitors displaying static. The creature let out an earsplitting screech, and a status bar appeared above it:

  Boss Encounter: THE TECHNOPHAGE

  Jake raised his mallet. “Any bright ideas?”

  Eli scanned their surroundings, his mind racing. The Technophage’s tendrils writhed and lashed out, smashing into the pavement with alarming force. “I’m guessing hitting it isn’t going to work,” he said.

  “Gee, thanks, Captain Obvious,” Jake muttered, dodging a tendril that narrowly missed his head.

  Eli’s eyes landed on a nearby kiosk labeled Recharging Station—Powering Your Needs Since Never. A glowing cable dangled from the side, sparking intermittently. “There!” he shouted, pointing to the station. “I think we can overload it!”

  Jake didn’t hesitate. He sprinted toward the station, dodging tendrils and leaping over debris like a man possessed. Meanwhile, Eli grabbed a loose piece of rebar and used it to deflect a tendril that was aiming for Jake’s back.

  “Almost there!” Jake yelled, grabbing the sparking cable.

  “Just don’t get electrocuted!” Eli called back.

  Jake jammed the cable into the ground, and the effect was immediate. The glowing pit beneath the Technophage began to spark violently, sending a surge of energy through the creature. It let out a guttural roar, its monitors flashing rapidly before exploding in a shower of glass and static.

  The ground stabilized, and the glowing pit began to fade. Jake staggered back, his mallet slung over his shoulder. “That was… unpleasant.”

  Eli nodded, breathing hard. “Agreed. Let’s never do that again.”

  System Steve’s face appeared on a nearby wall, grinning as always. “Well done, contestants! You’ve officially survived your first multi-boss gauntlet! I must say, your creative use of improvised tactics is… mildly entertaining.”

  “Mildly?” Eli repeated, glaring at the screen. “I almost died!”

  Steve ignored him. “Your next challenge awaits just beyond the glowing arches ahead. Good luck—you’ll need it!”

  The screen blinked off, leaving Eli and Jake standing in the eerie silence of the ruined street.

  Jake sighed. “You think there’s a Safe Room coming up soon?”

  “There better be,” Eli muttered, adjusting his pack. “If this place keeps throwing death traps at us, I’m going to need a break—and a drink.”

  Together, they walked toward the glowing arches in the distance, the ominous feeling of the dungeon ever-present.

  The glowing arches loomed ahead, their flickering light casting long shadows on the cracked pavement. Eli and Jake approached cautiously, the air growing colder with each step.

  “You know,” Jake said, gripping his mallet tightly, “I’m starting to think Steve gets way too much joy out of watching us suffer.”

  “That’s because he does,” Eli replied. “And honestly? I think it’s mutual.”

  As they stepped through the arches, the landscape shifted again. The crumbling cityscape disappeared, replaced by a wide, circular arena surrounded by towering walls. Spotlights swiveled to illuminate the center of the arena, where a single pedestal stood. On it was a small, glowing cube.

  “Okay, I’m calling it now—this is a trap,” Eli said, eyeing the cube suspiciously.

  “Definitely,” Jake agreed. “But do we have a choice?”

  Before Eli could respond, System Steve’s voice boomed from the walls. “CONGRATULATIONS, CONTESTANTS! YOU’VE REACHED THE END OF LEVEL ONE. YOUR FINAL TASK IS SIMPLE: CLAIM THE PRIZE AND PROVE YOUR WORTHINESS.”

  Eli squinted up at the nearest spotlight. “Define ‘simple.’”

  Steve didn’t answer. Instead, the ground began to tremble, and sections of the arena floor slid away to reveal… nothing. A dark void stretched beneath them, pulsing with faint, red light.

  “Oh good,” Eli muttered. “Because this wasn’t terrifying enough already.”

  As they moved toward the pedestal, the void below began to shift. Tendrils of shadow rose from the darkness, writhing and curling like smoke. From the center of the arena, a figure emerged—a humanoid silhouette clad in jagged, shifting armor that seemed to be made of the void itself. Its glowing eyes locked onto them, and a deep, guttural voice echoed across the arena.

  “WHO DARES TO CHALLENGE THE WARDEN OF LEVEL ONE?”

  Eli stared at the figure, then turned to Jake. “Do you ever get tired of things yelling at us?”

  Jake hefted his mallet. “Not really. Keeps things consistent.”

  The Warden raised a hand, and the tendrils around it lashed out, striking the ground with enough force to crack the arena floor. “PROVE YOUR WORTH OR BE CONSUMED.”

  “Yeah, I got that part,” Eli muttered, dodging a tendril that narrowly missed his head. “Any brilliant ideas?”

  Jake swung his mallet at one of the tendrils, knocking it back into the void. “Survive?”

  Eli rolled his eyes but couldn’t argue with the logic. As the Warden advanced, he noticed faint, glowing symbols on the arena walls. “Wait! I think those symbols are important!”

  Jake glanced at the walls, then back at Eli. “You think or you know?”

  “Let’s go with… seventy percent sure,” Eli said, sprinting toward one of the symbols.

  As he reached the first glowing mark, he felt a surge of energy course through him. The Warden hesitated, its movements faltering.

  “Jake! Hit the next one!” Eli shouted.

  Jake didn’t hesitate. He swung his mallet at the next symbol, shattering it. The Warden roared in pain, its form flickering like a glitching hologram.

  “Keep going!” Eli yelled, darting to another symbol.

  One by one, they activated the marks, each one weakening the Warden further. With a final burst of energy, the Warden let out a deafening roar and dissolved into the void, leaving only silence in its wake.

  System Steve’s voice returned, chipper as ever. “CONGRATULATIONS! YOU HAVE SUCCESSFULLY COMPLETED LEVEL ONE. YOUR PERFORMANCE WAS… ADEQUATE.”

  Eli collapsed onto the ground, breathing hard. “Adequate? We just fought a shadow monster!”

  Steve ignored him. “PLEASE PROCEED TO THE ELEVATOR TO BEGIN LEVEL TWO. AND REMEMBER: FAILURE IS ALWAYS AN OPTION.”

  The glowing arrows reappeared, pointing toward a metal elevator embedded in the far wall. Jake helped Eli to his feet, grinning. “Ready for Level Two?”

  Eli groaned. “Do I have a choice?”

  “Not really.”

  Together, they walked toward the elevator, the doors sliding open with an ominous hiss. As they stepped inside, Eli couldn’t shake the feeling that this was only the beginning of their nightmare.