The gates of the dungeon loomed before us, an ancient maw of coral-coated stone carved into a craggy reef wall. Salt mist billowed out from its depths, curling at our feet like ghostly fingers. Above the entrance hung a rusted iron sign swaying gently in the sea breeze, its edges worn by centuries.
"Only those who fear nothing may enter," an eerie voice whispered to our ears. "Only the strongest can leave."
Fifty players stood before the dungeon, with swords drawn, staves glowing, bows knocked. Some wore cocky grins, others looked like they were already regretting their choices.
Lars stood beside me, tightening the grip on his staff.
A tall mage in violet robe stepped forward, "Listen, everyone. My name is Wex Holger, the leader of this dungeon raid. This dungeon has four chambers, with each containing a key. We need to clear all of those chambers to access the dungeon boss' room," he said. "Now let's go and remember to proceed with caution, everyone!"
"LET'S GOOOOOO!" a warrior yelled, and the players echoed like a war cry.
Lars turned to me, trying to smile. "No turning back now, huh?"
I adjusted my cracked shoulder plate. "Not unless we wanna die out here instead of in there."
I looked at Lars. "Make sure not to die on me, okay?"
Lars laughed. "Of course!"
We looked at each other and said, "Let's do this, partner!"
Then we stepped inside.
The inside of the dungeon was something out of a drowned nightmare.
Corridors twisted like coral intestines, the walls pulsing faintly as if the place was still alive. Bioluminescent barnacles clung to every surface, and the water that pooled at our ankles glowed an eerie green. Pirate whispers echoed around us, mixed with the distant clink of chains.
After some exploration, we arrived at the first chamber. It was deceptively quiet. Glowing jellyfish floated near the ceiling, casting an ethereal blue light.
Then, movement.
Suddenly, a half-dozen ghostly sailors materialized from the water, dragging anchors behind them. And with them came wailing mariners. Their moans chilled the blood.
A system window appeared in front of me and to the rest of the players:
[GHOST SAILOR] – (LVL 15)
[WAILING MARINER] - (LVL 15)
"Prepare yourselves!" Wex shouted. "Here comes the first wave!"
The battle began.
A male healer screamed as an anchor wrapped around his leg and pulled him under the water. Bubbles rose. He didn't.
I gritted my teeth, ducked under a wailing mariner's hook swing, and drove my dagger between its ribs.
Lars hurled chain lightning into a group of ghostly sailors, electrifying the water and frying three in one go.
Then, the last enemy fell, vanishing in a puff of sea-mist.
"I-Is it over?" An injured assassin said, nervously. "It should be over, r-right?"
Then a pedestal rose from the floor with a blue key resting on the center of it as a system window popped into visibility above it.
[You have acquired: Blue Key]
The coral doors ahead shimmered, then dissolved.
"Let's proceed to the next chamber." Wex said. "We have no time to lose."
When we got deeper in the dungeon, things got worse.
The next section was a maze of twisting chambers, each teeming with horrors. Merfolk with barbed spears. Whirlpools that dragged players into sand pits.
Then we made a bad decision.
Wex decided to split us into squads to search for the second key.
Lars and I took the left passage with five others.
As we got deeper, we saw a massive stone vault and a coral golem guarding the green key.
A system window appeared in front of me and to the rest of the players:
[CORAL GOLEM] - (LVL 20)
It stood three times my height, a trident clutched in barnacled hands. Every step it took made the water tremble.
One Warrior charged in too early like a total clown, shouting, "DEATH OR GLORY!!!"
Death. Definitely death.
The golem impaled him like a shish kebab.
"I GOT THIS!" A high-level warrior shouted, activating his skill: Frenzy. His body glowed crimson, moving with supernatural speed. He became a blur of metal, slashing and dodging.
Meanwhile, I slipped around the side, dagger driving upward through the coral golem's barnacle-covered gut, twisting hard.
The golem bellowed once, then collapsed, crumbling into chunks of coral.
"Good assist, commoner!" The high-level warrior proudly said.
"Does this guy have a superiority complex or something?" I thought. "Commoner? I could beat your ass down right here and now if I wanted to!"
Next came the level twenty eel-beasts with twisting masses of scales and teeth that slithered like living nightmares.
The level twenty ghost-captains followed, cloaked in sea fog, their sabers flashing faster than the eye could track. They fought with precision, no wasted movements, no mercy.
Somehow, we survived it with no casualties.
Then, we reached the ballroom. Flooded. Half-submerged. Silent. A ghostly chandelier hung from a ceiling lost in shadow, swaying above a mirrored floor that shimmered with ankle-deep water. In the center, twenty level fifteen spectral pirates floated midair, locked in a slow, haunting waltz. Their movements were elegant, almost human. A music box melody echoed from nowhere, tinny and distant, as if played underwater.
I stared at it. "I have a bad feeling about this..." I said.
A male archer tapped my back and said, "We got this!"
We stepped in.
They suddenly stopped dancing. Dozens of hollow faces turned toward us. Then, in perfect silence, they drew their sabers.
"GET READY!" I shouted. "THEY'RE GONNA ATTACK!"
It was too late. They surged forward like a tidal wave of steel and shadow. They were too fast.
Lars shouted behind me, staff glowing dim. "Shit, I'm almost out of mana!"
"Didn't you bring an MP potion?!" I shouted, slashing through a spectral pirate.
"I—!" His voice cut off.
A rusted chain lashed through the air like a whip.
I dove, swatting it away. The moment I turned to Lars, a spectral pirate drifted behind him like a shadow made of mist. Its blade slid cleanly through his back.
"Lars—no!" I screamed.
Lars gasped. His eyes went wide. "...That hurts," he whispered as he collapsed into my arms.
The world slowed. The sound faded. Everything felt distant, except the quiet cracking sound as Lars shattered into light and fragments, like glass dropped in water.
Something in me snapped.
I surged into motion. No hesitation. No thought. Just rage and reflex.
I screamed and lunged, spinning through the waterlogged ballroom with my blade.
I slashed, feinted, parried, and slashed again.
I didn't stop. I couldn't stop. Not until the last monster vanished into the fog with a hiss.
The music box fell silent after I wiped out the remaining monsters.
When it ended, I was gasping for breath, drenched in salt and purple blood.
Only eight of us stood. Barely alive.
A pedestal rose like earlier, with the key in the corner, and a system window popped into visibility.
[You have acquired: Green Key]
Past the chamber that contained the green key, the dungeon became cruel.
The halls narrowed into choking tunnels, half-flooded with ink-black water that hid gods-only-know-what beneath. The walls sweated salt. Pit traps waited beneath thin patches of coral, lined with jagged bone-colored blades.
One current surged from the side and nearly dragged a male mage into the depths. But I luckily caught the back of his robe just in time.
He wheezed. "I'm starting to hate this place."
"Next time, don't flirt with the water," I said.
He took off the seaweed that got stuck on his face and said, "Y-Yeah, Thanks for saving me…"
We reached the chamber with the red key. At first, it seemed empty. But it wasn't. The stone floor gave a sudden groan and collapsed beneath us. All of us screamed as we dropped like coins into a slot, landing in an arena shrouded in thick, rolling fog.
The old healer groaned and said, "Ouch, my back..."
When we got back to our knees, there was no time to think or breathe as shapes drifted from the mist, twisting forms of smoke wrapped around seaweed-draped bones. Level twenty five Sea Liches. Their eyes glowed like drowned stars as they raised their arms slowly.
"Sea liches..." I thought.
My eyes widened as I remembered that they launch cursed brine orbs that could kill a player in one hit.
They began to fire cursed brine orbs that floated toward us, sluggish, almost lazy, bursting mid-air into swarms of screaming skulls.
"TAKE COVER!" I shouted.
A warrior to my left lifted his shield. Too late. A female archer spun to run. Too late. The cursed brine struck them both. Their bodies disintegrated instantly, dissolving into vapor and sparks. All that remained was a steaming helmet and a steel bow clattering across the floor.
I triggered my copied skill, Frenzy, and lunged forward, my blade tearing through ghost-flesh as I weaved between stone pillars. The Sea Liches retaliated, hurling bursts of cursed brine. Behind me, a healer raised a shield, light-blue magic flaring just in time to catch another explosion.
I risked a glance back. The mage from earlier stood there, robes torn, face pale, holding the barrier like it was the only thing keeping him upright.
The chamber flashed with each strike; each spell was a brief burst of light that carved the fog into moments before swallowing them back into shadow. One by one, the Sea Liches screamed as their forms unraveled, splitting into streaks of dark light before collapsing into nothing.
Then, silence. Only the drip of water echoed. The fog thinned and peeled away, revealing a pedestal in the center of the room. Wet. Worn. Glowing.
I stood frozen, chest heaving, dagger trembling in my grip as my eyes locked on it.
A system window popped into visibility.
[You have acquired: Red Key]
"One more chamber…" I said.
Six players remained out of fifty. Our group: a female archer covered in gold armor, an old healer dressed in white robe, a mage in a tattered blue robe, a female assassin in black, an injured warrior, and me.
All of us were battered, burned, clothes torn, potions long since emptied. Our eyes were hollow, dulled by too much death. My silver dagger was chipped along the edge, its shine worn away with each fight.
Now we stood before the crimson door. Ornate, pulsing faintly like a wounded heart. Unlike the others, this one was sealed behind a barrier. Above the archway, letters were carved deep into the stone, glowing faintly with sea-light script.
"Abandon certainty, all ye who enter here." The old healer translated it. He looked humble with deep laugh lines around his eyes and a sad smile that said he'd seen this scene before.
"What does that mean?" I said.
He grinned. "It means we might die today."
Beside me stood the female archer, golden-haired, composed, her presence all precision and power. Dressed in golden armor, and a red cape flickered in the torchlight like a living flame. Without a word, she nocked an arrow, loosed it, and shattered the barrier. Then her gaze locked on the doorway.
No one spoke. But we all thought the same thing: It's do or die.
We stepped through.
The chamber was massive, perfectly circular, seamless, and silent. A faint mist drifted low across the floor, which was slick with a thin film of water, turning the ground into a mirror. Reflections rippled endlessly across the mirrored walls, repeating us into infinity.
And there, at the very center, stood a pedestal bathed in warm, golden light. Resting upon it, untouched, The Yellow Key.
"Is it… over?" a female mage in a blue robe whispered, her voice barely audible as she pressed a hand against her chest, eyes wide and trembling.
My eyes observed the chamber, every mirrored wall, every shimmer of reflected light.
Then I saw it. My reflection.
It blinked. I didn't.
"H-Huh?" I thought.
The air suddenly cracked. The glassy floor rippled like heat rising off stone. The mirrored walls twisted, then bled long streaks of shadow spilling outward like ink in water.
Then they stepped through.
Our reflections.
Perfect doubles. Same weapons. Same gear. Same faces. But their eyes glowed faintly yellow. And the way they smiled... it wasn't confidence, it was certainty.
The first move came from the clone of a female assassin in black from our group. She vanished and reappeared behind the original to slit her throat. The original was fortunate and managed to defend.
"THEY'RE US!" the injured warrior shouted, gripping his sword tighter, sweat dripping down his brow. "They know our moves!"
A clone lunged at me. It was me, but cleaner. Sharper. Same stance. Same silver dagger. Same glare I used to see in the mirror.
I barely blocked the first strike. My heart pounded in my chest.
My clone didn't hesitate. Didn't overthink. Every step matched mine, mirrored perfectly, as if it had practiced my movements a thousand times.
I feinted left. It didn't fall for it. Its blade flashed and cut across the right side of my chest. It was quick, clean, and precise. Pain ripped through my side ribs. It was shallow, but deep enough to remind me that I wasn't fighting some random monster. I was fighting myself.
I staggered, kicked it hard in the chest, then dove. The water splashed as I rolled beneath the surface, trying to break its rhythm. But it didn't falter. It adjusted. No surprise. I would've done the same. I came up fast, dagger ready. It was already there. This wasn't just a fight. It was a test. Every bad habit, every shortcut, every weakness I thought I'd hidden. It knew them. And if I didn't adapt, if I didn't become something more than what I was, I wouldn't walk out of here alive.
The archer in gold was faring better, barely. She unleashed a volley of arrows that caught her clone off guard, but her clone moved just as fast. Arrows sliced the air, splitting mid-flight. Then she was down to her last quiver.
Across the room, the old healer and his clone were locked in a battle of spells and curses. Every time he tried to heal, the clone nullified it. He clenched his fist, jaw tight, and punched the clone, engaging in brutal hand-to-hand combat, his robes whipping with motion.
The others weren't so lucky. The injured warrior's clone decimated him with a perfect spin-strike. Bone cracked; he gasped through gritted teeth. The mage in blue robes burned to oblivion under a fireball from his clone, letting out a scream that echoed across the chamber.
Then, we were down to four.
I dodged a brutal strike from my clone. Barely. My arm was trembling. My clone cocked its head, tilting it like a predator. Then I did something it wouldn't. I screamed and threw the dagger directly upward. I charged the moment it blinked its eyes. It expected a punch. I dove low, sweeping its legs, grabbing the falling dagger mid-spin, burying it into its side as we crashed into the water. It then writhed and vanished.
I coughed, shivering, and muttered, "Big thanks for pointing out my flaws."
When I turned, the female assassin's clone slit the original's throat, and they shattered into fragments. Exhaustion had caught up with her because she had cleared most of the previous chambers. How unfortunate.
The old healer took the opportunity when he punched his clone, making it off balance. He then extended both hands and activated a skill: Purification. A pulse of light spread from the clone's body as it shrieked in pain, shattering into fragments.
The old healer wiped his hands, chuckling. "That didn't even make me sweat!"
The archer in gold feinted and delivered a brutal point-blank shot. Her clone crumpled. She lowered her bow, breathing hard, arm shaking, bowstring frayed.
We all exhaled, the weight of the battle pressing on us. I tried not to drop my dagger from sheer exhaustion.
"I feel like my body's about to collapse…" I muttered, gripping the hilt tighter. "This is bad…"
We waited for the other groups, but they didn't seem to arrive. It seemed like they entered the trap chambers and didn't make it out alive.
The old healer laughed, shaking his head. "I guess it's just the three of us now. That dungeon raid leader was all talk, no strength! MUHAHAHAHA!"
"You're not funny, old man," I said. "Stop that."
"Calm down," he said with a shrug, his laugh lines deepening. "It's just my way of coping."
I didn't respond.
"Let's finish this and get out," the archer said, her voice tight, eyes scanning the chamber.
The Yellow Key lifted gently into the air, floating toward us. I caught it in my palm, heart still hammering.
A door across the room rumbled open, leading into deeper darkness.
The boss awaits.