People say teamwork makes the dream work.
Those people never had a sentient slime clinging to their leg while a dungeon portal screamed like a banshee and the air smelled like burnt soup.
"Dungeon entry in 3… 2…"
I closed my eyes and said my final prayers.
"…1!"
We were sucked into the vortex like someone flushed reality's toilet.
I opened my eyes to absolute darkness. Then color. Then too much color.
"Welcome to: THE CHAOS CLASS DUNGEON™! Sponsored by Dragon Cola."
A floating mascot appeared in the air—a talking soda can with wings and a monocle.
"Here at Chaos Class Dungeons™, we specialize in randomized death scenarios and existential dread! Today's trial: ESCAPE THE UNREALITY ROOM."
"What the hell is an 'Unreality Room'?" I asked.
"No idea," the can said cheerfully. "Good luck, team leader!"
Then exploded in confetti. A banner unfurled:
MISSION OBJECTIVE: SURVIVE. THAT'S IT. GOOD LUCK, LOL.
Let me reintroduce the team:
Beastgirl (code name: Whisper): Wears a cloak, talks like a fortune cookie, definitely has trauma.
Transfer Student (nickname: Miss Delusion): Convinced we're in a romantic comedy. It's not.
Slime (actual name: Bubblethulu): Thinks existence is a mistake but also carries mints.
Me (Charisma Langston): Just wants to sleep.
We stood in an infinite hallway made entirely of… doors. Floating doors. Melting doors. A door shaped like my math teacher. I don't even take math anymore.
Whisper sniffed the air. "The path is not what it seems."
"Cool," I muttered. "Let's choose the most normal-looking one."
Transfer girl grabbed my arm. "Wait! What if choosing the normal door is the abnormal choice? Like a reverse psychology dungeon?"
Slime burped. "What if none of this is real and we're in a bottle somewhere being shaken by a god with abandonment issues?"
Everyone turned to me.
"…Why am I the leader again?" I asked.
"Because your charisma stat is ♾️," Whisper said flatly.
That's not even a real number.
We went through the door shaped like a refrigerator. Why? Because no one said not to.
Inside was a living room. With lava for a floor.
A man sat in a recliner sipping tea.
"Oh hey," he said. "You're early."
"…Are we intruding?" I asked.
He gestured to the ceiling. A floating timer appeared:
2 minutes left until floor turns into snakes.
Transfer girl screamed. "I hate snakes!"
The lava hissed.
"Why is the lava turning into snakes!?" I yelled.
"You ask a lot of questions for a team leader," the lava said back.
We somehow escaped by riding a couch across a collapsing void.
Whisper stabbed the lava (??), Bubblethulu consumed a floating prophecy scroll (and got indigestion), and I twisted my ankle tripping over my own existential crisis.
Trial 1: Passed.
Mood: Rapidly declining.
Peace level: Subterranean.
The next room was worse.
A mirror room.
A GIANT mirror room.
You know what mirror rooms in dungeons mean?
Yup.
Evil clones.
Except my clone didn't attack me.
He just looked at me.
Judged me.
Sighed loudly.
"I don't even wanna be you," Clone-Me said. "This is just sad."
He sat down in the corner and started journaling.
Whisper's clone tried to bite her. Whisper bit back.
Bubblethulu's clone just turned into a cube and cried.
Transfer Girl and her clone became best friends instantly. They were skipping around, planning our wedding.
"Do I have to marry both of them now?" I asked.
No one answered.
Eventually, the mirror room dissolved after we all agreed to never talk about what we saw.
Trial 2: Cleared.
Trauma: +2
Sanity: –12
Lunch: missed.
We reached what looked like the final chamber.
"Congratulations," a voice echoed. "You've reached the BOSS ROOM."
I braced myself. A giant glowing portal opened.
And out walked…
A chicken.
Like, an actual chicken. Wearing sunglasses. Radiating divine energy.
Bubblethulu whispered, "Is that… the God Chicken?"
Transfer Girl gasped. "He's beautiful."
The chicken spoke in Latin. The air shimmered.
Whisper went completely still. "I can't fight it… he knows… my sins."
The chicken flapped its wings and the entire room shook.
A quest window popped up:
FINAL TRIAL: SURVIVE HIS JUDGMENT
"THE CHICKEN WILL NOW JUDGE YOUR LIFE CHOICES."
I blinked.
The chicken stared into my soul.
A beam of light scanned me.
Text appeared in the air:
Charisma Langston
GPA: 2.6
Magic: 0
Vibe: Emotionally bankrupt
Goal: Nap forever
Threat level: ???
Romantic karma: Unintentionally overpowered
The chicken tilted its head, then spoke in perfect Common Tongue.
"…Bro. You good?"
I almost cried.
After a moment of silence, the chicken nodded solemnly.
"I sense no ill intent… only pure, passive suffering."
He waved his wing. A golden light filled the room.
"You may go. Also, here's a coupon for therapy."
DUNGEON CLEARED.
We exited the portal to the sounds of fireworks, applause, and several confused teachers.
Apparently, no team has ever cleared a Chaos Class Dungeon without a single spell cast.
We were called "The Blessed Bystanders."
A school journalist asked me what our strategy was.
I said, "I walked into a fridge and hurt my ankle."
The interview went viral.
That night, I got a notification from the Department of Interdimensional Balancing:
STATUS UPDATE: Your chaotic aura is stabilizing. Probability distortions are now visible to magical detectors. Proceed with caution.
Also, apparently the chicken sent me a friend request.
I didn't accept. Yet.
As I finally crawled into bed, body aching, head spinning, I whispered to the ceiling:
"If this is how being a leader feels… I'm dropping out."
The room was silent.
Then the closet creaked open.
A scroll fell out.
It read:
"Dear Charisma, you have been nominated for Student Council President."
I screamed into my pillow until I passed out.