The gate pulsed like a living wound in the air.
Ram Sharma stood at the edge of the marked safety zone, his fingers numb around the strap of the supply crate slung across his shoulder. The glow from the gate painted everything in dull orange, turning faces into silhouettes and fear into something easy to hide.
Ten years.
It had been ten years since he had last seen something like this up close.
The memory came uninvited.
A younger Ram, barely six, sitting on the floor of their small rented house. The fan above creaked with every rotation. His father was kneeling in front of him, tightening the strap of his boots with practiced hands.
Mahesh Sharma"You'll take care of your mother while I'm gone, hm?"
Ram had nodded eagerly back then. It felt like a game. Fathers always came back. That was the rule of the world.
Savitri Sharma"It's just an E-rank gate," she had said, trying to sound calm. "You don't have to go."
Mahesh had smiled. Not the confident smile hunters showed on television, but a tired one. A man who knew exactly how replaceable he was.
Mahesh Sharma"If I don't, someone else will. At least this way…"He had ruffled Ram's hair. "…the money comes home."
That night, the fan kept creaking.
Mahesh Sharma never came back.
"Oi. Porter."
The present snapped back into place.
Suresh Pal"You daydreaming? Or are you planning to get crushed before we even enter?"
Ram shook his head quickly.
Ram Sharma"Sorry."
Suresh Pal snorted and turned away, barking orders at the rest of the team. He was a D-rank hunter, barely stronger than average, but he wore his authority like armor.
Around them, the raid team gathered.
Vikram Joshi, an E-rank hunter whose hands wouldn't stop shaking.
Ankit Mehra, another porter, thin and quiet, eyes fixed on the ground.
Two more hunters Ram didn't recognize, both laughing too loudly.
Nobody laughed near the gate for long.
As the final checks were done, Ram's gaze drifted to the gate again.
Up close, it felt wrong.
Not dangerous. Not hostile.
Aware.
The air around it vibrated faintly, like the hum of a distant bell. Ram's chest tightened, a pressure forming behind his ribs, as if something inside him was responding.
He stepped back instinctively.
The sensation didn't fade.
Inside his mind, another memory stirred. One he had tried not to think about.
The official report of his father's death.
Cause: Dungeon breachRank: EStatus: Body unrecovered
Simple. Clean. Too clean.
What bothered Ram wasn't the death. It was the details that didn't exist.
No witness statements.No recovered equipment.No explanation for why his mother had collapsed days later, her mana pathways scorched as if she had been exposed to something she never should have touched.
The doctors called it coincidence.
Ram had learned early that coincidence was a word people used when they didn't want to look deeper.
"Gate's stabilizing."
The announcement rippled through the group.
A low hum rose as the orange glow solidified, the surface of the gate turning glassy and opaque.
Suresh Pal"Standard formation. Hunters first. Porters stay close and don't touch anything unless told."
Ram adjusted the crate again and followed Ankit Mehra forward.
The moment his foot crossed the threshold, the pressure in his chest spiked.
The world twisted.
The dungeon was cold.
Stone walls stretched outward, carved with unfamiliar patterns that looked ancient even beneath layers of moss and grime. Torches flickered along the corridor, their flames burning without smoke.
Ram's breath fogged.
Vikram Joshi"Why does this place feel… wrong?"
No one answered him.
Something was off. Not just the temperature. Not just the silence.
The dungeon felt… focused.
Ram swallowed and forced himself to walk.
They hadn't gone far when the first monsters appeared.
Low-level creatures, hunched and misshapen, crawling out from the cracks in the walls. The hunters engaged quickly, weapons flashing, magic flaring briefly in the dim corridor.
Ram stayed back, heart pounding, doing exactly what he was told.
Carry. Wait. Survive.
Still, his eyes kept drifting to the walls.
To the symbols.
Some of them looked familiar.
Not because he had seen them before.
But because his body reacted to them.
His fingers tingled. His vision blurred for a split second, as if something unseen had shifted.
"Porters, move up!"
Suresh Pal's shout echoed.
Ram stepped forward.
That was when the dungeon changed.
The ground trembled, subtle at first, then sharp enough to knock dust loose from the ceiling. The torches flickered violently.
Ankit Mehra"Suresh… this wasn't in the briefing."
Before anyone could respond, a deafening crack split the corridor.
The floor beneath Ram gave way.
For a heartbeat, there was weightlessness.
For a heartbeat, Ram saw panic on Suresh Pal's face.
Then he was falling.
Darkness swallowed him whole.
The sounds of shouting, of footsteps, of battle faded above him. He hit the ground hard, pain exploding through his body, driving the air from his lungs.
Ram lay still, staring into blackness.
Above, the hole sealed shut.
Stone grinding against stone.
Silence returned.
He tried to move.
Agony answered.
His crate lay shattered beside him, supplies scattered uselessly across the floor. His left arm screamed in protest, his vision swimming.
"Help…" The word barely left his lips.
No answer came.
Minutes passed.
Or maybe seconds.
Time lost its meaning.
This was how his father had died, wasn't it?
Alone. Unrecorded. Conveniently forgotten.
The thought settled heavily in his chest, colder than fear.
"I won't," Ram whispered. "I won't end like that."
Something shifted.
Not in the dungeon.
In him.
The darkness trembled.
And for the first time, something answered his refusal.
[SYSTEM NOTICE]Candidate condition verifiedVital signs: Critical
A faint glow pierced the black.
Ram's eyes widened as lines of text formed before him, hovering in the air like an impossible reflection.
[SYSTEM NOTICE]Trial initialization pending
His heartbeat thundered.
This wasn't rescue.
This wasn't mercy.
It felt like being examined.
Measured.
Judged.
Ram forced himself to sit up, teeth clenched against the pain.
"If this is how it ends," he muttered, staring at the glowing screen, "then I'll at least know why."
The text flickered.
Waiting.
Above him, the raid continued.
No one came looking.
Ram Sharma lies injured in the depths of the dungeon.Abandoned. Forgotten.And officially acknowledged by something that should not exist.