The Guild Hall was a buzz of heat, iron, and testosterone. Kael Vorrin stood out because he didn't stand out—gray cloak, plain armor, dead eyes. Just another mid-rank merc waiting for a kill order.
But Lysette Alvaro saw through it.
She watched from the upper mezzanine, feigning boredom behind her black lace fan, though her sharp crimson eyes tracked his every move. She'd been trailing Kael for three weeks, studying his kill reports, the way he never returned with a scratch. A Reaper in everything but name.
She sipped her wine, too sweet for her taste, and muttered, "Let's see how deep your mask goes."
⸻
The mission was a B-Rank infestation job. A rotted grain cellar outside Halden's Cross had split open into a spontaneous Fissure—a living dungeon.
The world called them that now: Living Dungeons.
Places that shouldn't shift, but did.
That shouldn't whisper, but did.
That remembered adventurers by name.
The guild had adopted a basic classification system:
• Dormant (D): Static, predictable layouts. Mostly beast-type spawns.
• Agitated (C): Warped interiors, possible mimicry, signs of memory.
• Aware (B): Shifting terrain, monster intelligence, possible soul entrapment.
• Hostile (A): Direct psychological manipulation. Hostile terrain. Sentient.
• Sovereign (S): Untouchable. Report, retreat, pray.
This one? Supposedly a low B-Rank. The kind that sent three-man teams with a clean-up mage. Kael entered alone.
⸻
[SYSTEM HUD ACTIVE]
Dungeon Status: "The Hollow Grain"
Cognitive Pulse: Detected
Mapping: Unavailable
Reaper Class Bonus: "Alone in the Dark" – +20% to Damage, +10% Evasion when no allies detected.
Kael smirked.
I wouldn't want it any other way.
He stepped inside the ruin. The walls pulsed like living flesh beneath warped wood and stone. Mold hung in the air like a disease with breath. Rats with too many legs skittered across ceilings, whispering nonsense in a chorus of stolen voices.
"Vorrin… Vorrin… did you bring the girl this time?"
Kael's blade hissed from its sheath.
"Keep talking," he whispered. "It helps me find you."
⸻
[FLASHBACK – Three Years Ago]
They were laughing.
Kael's party was five strong back then. Bright-eyed, hopeful, stupid.
• Juno, the healer, always scribbling songs between fights.
• Derrick, their tank, who called himself "The Shield That Walks."
• Nim, the twin-dagger rogue who never stopped chewing pine gum.
• Lira, the light mage. His first love. Her hands always shook after battle.
And Kael, the unremarkable swordsman with a good parry and bad luck with coin.
Their first real dungeon was supposed to be a test. It had no name. No rank. Just a crack in the world's edge.
"Scout the perimeter. Call it in if it's more than wildlife," the Guild officer had said.
"Get in, get paid."
They joked as they entered. Lira kissed him on the cheek.
"Try not to be the first to scream, Kael."
But she was.
They never saw what truly killed them. The walls shifted mid-fight. The rogue stabbed himself. The healer sang in reverse. The tank broke his own legs screaming for his mother. And Lira—
She tried to blind the thing.
She couldn't scream. Her mouth had disappeared.
Kael had crawled out. Covered in blood. Dragging half her body. Something had whispered into his bones:
"Live. So I can watch you rot."
The HUD appeared days later.
The Reaper Class whispered:
"Take. And Take. And Take. Until you become me."
⸻
[PRESENT – Hollow Grain Dungeon]
Kael was moving like breath on wind—silent, fast, surgical.
[Skill Activated: Shadow Stitch – Severing Cut]
(Target HP -78)
(Target Paralyzed)
He ripped through the mutants like paper. They bled smoke and regret.
"Kael Vorrin…"
The dungeon was calling again.
"Bring her. Let us finish what was started."
His blade pulsed. The runes on its edge glowed red.
⸻
Outside, Lysette stood in the shadows of the cellar's exterior, dressed in ceremonial garb. Not her battle robes. She'd expected screams. Panic. Instead, there was only silence and the occasional crunch.
She opened her enchanted journal. The last page recorded Kael's dungeon entry.
Status: Alive.
Cognitive Pulse: Stabilized.
Dungeon Hostility: Receding.
"Impossible," she muttered.
⸻
When Kael emerged, he was soaked in black ichor. His cloak torn, mask cracked.
Lysette stepped forward. "You're not just some grief-stricken loner, are you?"
Kael's eyes didn't meet hers. "No. I'm the thing dungeons whisper about."
Before she could reply, the ground behind her cracked.
A severed goblin head, freshly killed, rolled out.
[SYSTEM UPDATE]
You have been marked by "The Hunger Below."
Dungeon Sovereign-class interest: Moderate.
Tracking begins in 3 cycles.
Kael stared at the HUD only he could see and whispered to himself:
"So… they still remember me."