John was woken up again, this time by an itching sensation in the back of his mind. Even though it wasn’t an actual physical sensation, John instinctively went to scratch it with his right arm, accidentally moving Gwen in the process. Gwen drowsily began to rouse herself, grabbing John’s face and giving him a deep kiss in the process. John was surprised at first but quickly began returning the kiss in earnest. After a couple of seconds, John could feel Gwen breaking off the kiss and opened his eyes to see Gwen with a furious blush on her shocked face. She quickly hopped out of bed before stammering out an apology and headed for the door, giving a curtsy on her way out and shouting that she would see John again soon before John heard her footsteps rushing off down the hall. It took John another couple of seconds to discover the source of the itching sensation, as a figure was crossing into his Dungeon entrance. Those notifications that had built up would have to wait another bit before he got to them, and he sent Gwen a message to let her know what was going on.

Gwen’s heart was nearly beating out of her chest. Not only had she ended up sleeping in the bed of a man she was not fully romantically committed to yet, but she had also ended up giving him a kiss upon waking up that could not be described with any word close to chaste. It’s not that she regretted the experience. In fact, she had found it quite enjoyable and something she wanted to do again soon. It had just been startling start her day with, especially given her upbringing. When she and John had discussed their childhoods after the movies, John had described hers as sounding aristocratic by his world’s standards. Gwen’s early childhood had been spent mostly with her immediate and near family, only meeting others outside her family at special functions or when she went to the academy. Even then, the only boys Gwen interacted with had been family or those her family were trying to form a political marriage. She had liked some and found some a bit attractive, but she had never gone as far with a man as she had just gone with John this morning, and she wasn’t sure what the proper etiquette for that would be. It wasn’t the kind of thing her parents or instructors at the academy had talked about, since generally those kinds of kisses were only allowed once you were betrothed. The fact that it had come so natural for her to initiate was also something she had found particularly surprising, which was why she had found herself excusing herself from the situation and heading back to her room. Gwen was going to change back into her everyday dress, which would hopefully help restore her sense of normalcy with it. As Gwen finished changing, though, she received a message from John that someone was going to try and explore the Dungeon for the first time. Gwen wanted to be with John for his first time, so she splashed her face with cold water to try and calm herself down, but found herself fidgeting as she approached John at the viewing window in the Soul Space.

George was glad that Karen stayed over at her younger half-sister’s house tonight, babysitting the niece and nephew. It would have been hard to explain to her why he was leaving the house at two in the morning, as Dungeon exploring would make him sound insane. His case would not have been helped by the bag of equipment George had gathered, most of it sports equipment from the various sports his family had played through the years, with a couple of knives from the kitchen thrown in for good measure. George wasn’t sure what equipment he would need, so he had decided to go in as well rounded as possible. As he passed the doorway, George put the hockey bag down and mostly closed the door behind him, leaving it slightly open if he needed to make a quick escape. Seeing how dark it was in the apparent staircase he was in, George decided to put on the hockey helmet with a metal cage and strap on the headlight he had brought along for such a situation. If the tropes from the stories held true, George wouldn’t be attacked in the first stairwell, but he wasn’t one to count on conditions that commonly occur in fiction to hold true to real life. As George put on the helmet and turned on the light to get a better view of the situation he was in, he began putting on the other equipment. He decided to put on soccer shin guards rather than the hockey version, sacrificing a bit of protection for keeping up his mobility. George decided against putting on the hockey pants for a similar reason but ended up putting on the shoulder pads and elbow guards, taping a couple of the moving pieces down rather than putting a jersey on over top of them. Despite the relative discomfort of putting on a neck guard, he decided to put that on as well, hoping that like the skates it was designed to protect against, it would help protect him from bleeding out if something sharp hit his neck. Pulling out an aluminum baseball bat to use as his primary weapon, George also decided to put a nine iron and a driver in a carry bag across his back and strapped a hunting knife in a sheath to his belt. George decided to leave the kitchen knives in the hockey bag for now but left them near the top of the bag for easy access, in case he needed something to throw. George wished he had brought the .308, but it would have been hard to explain why he was carrying a hunting rifle around downtown Red Deer, much more so than a quick explanation that he was in a summer hockey league.

George crept down the stairs beside the ramp, bat in the right hand and hockey bag slung loosely over his left shoulder, ready to drop it at a moment’s notice. George hated that the light on his head was giving away his position to anything that could think, but he didn’t trust his night vision in what appeared to be pitch blackness of the Dungeon below. As he descended, George did his best to muffle the sound of his footsteps. While his Travelling Skill did help him do it more efficiently, and he felt he picked up a new walking-related Technique, the Skill did nothing to help him make less noise. George felt this must be because he had yet to unlock a sneaking based Skill, and he would have to earn Techniques and levels for that Skill to gain any help from the System in sneaking. As he slowly made his way to the base of the stairs, he readied his weapon in case an ambush was waiting for him. George was instead surprised as he entered the room at the bottom of the stairs and light from what appeared to be a computer monitor, and a desk lamp popped on a hundred feet from where John stood. Even more surprising was what looked to be a man in his mid-twenties, giving a friendly wave from behind the desk that the lights were on. Before George returned the wave, he quickly looked around the room with the light from his headlamp. The place would have been relatively intimidating with mostly dark black and red colours if it wasn’t for the pink and silver highlights that broke up the primary two colours’ general harshness. Looking closer, even the black itself wasn’t as harsh, as rather than absorbing light, it was reflecting it in a myriad of colour variations.

As George gave a friendly wave back to the man behind the desk and began approaching it, trying to keep his headlamp from shining in the man’s eyes, he realized he recognized the man. The man had been a semi-regular on the buses, usually trying to excuse his way into a free ride to one of the homeless shelters around town by saying he forgot his wallet or didn’t have exact change. Either situation was generally followed by him saying, “Wouldn’t he just let it slide this once?” In the end, George, like many of the other bus drivers, usually did, though usually only once or twice a day. After all, buses were generally more of a service than a profit-making organization, though, at the same time, he wasn’t going to let someone scam their way every time. As George approached the desk, he could see that the man also recognized him. George wasn’t sure what the young man’s actual name was, as he had been told it was Tyler, Mike, Dan, and a variety of others, though given that George had heard some of his friends call him Jay, he figured his name was probably closer to that. As such, George wasn’t sure how to greet him, though the man solved that by greeting him first.

“Hey. George, right? I’m not sure if you remember me, but my name is Jake. I’m not really surprised the first person to find this place is a bus driver. My brother thinks you might have the System, is that true?”

“Uh, yeah. I have access to the system. What do you mean, your brother? I don’t see anyone else here.”

“Oh. Um, we’re kind of in him right now, I guess.”

“Is your brother the Dungeon or something like that?”

“Yes, he is. Have you read stories about something similar or something?”

“Yeah, it’s not an unknown story device. It’s just weird to see it in real life. Anyways, you seem to be doing better than the last couple of times I saw you.”

“That’s probably because I’m clean for the first time in a while. You haven’t really seen me at my best before.”

“Good to hear. Is this a safe area of some kind, or should I still be on the lookout? I mean, I can’t fully trust you if you say it is, but I think I’m a decent judge of character.”

“This is the First Room of the Dungeon, so as long as you don’t attack Lenny or me, you should be fine. My brother wanted to set it up as a kind of preparation area, and also an area where people can do deals with him once he has the right facilities.”

“And how did your brother become a Dungeon? Was he sacrificed by a necromancer or something?”

“According to him and the Administrator or God he met, depending on your perspective, it was some kind of cosmic accident. Random chance, essentially. There may be cause and effect out there, but it wasn’t directed at him specifically or anything, at least as far as our knowledge goes.”

“And how did you end up here?”

“I died. Just over there if you can believe it.” Jake said while pointing to the couch, he had died on just a couple of days ago.

It took George a couple of seconds to process what Jake had told him. “Are you saying you died and came back?”

“Not on my own. My brother fought for my soul. Not against an enemy, but against Death itself.” Jake said, pride and awe apparent in his voice. “It wouldn’t have worked for just anyone, but my brother had the right motivation and the right circumstances, so Death has become a less certain thing among these walls.”

Jake could barely hear George say, “What until Frank hears about this,” followed by the more audible “Did you see any kind of afterlife, and I thought you mentioned something about a God?”

“Yes, and yes. I saw and learned that there is a process after death, where you may go to an afterlife or be reincarnated depending on your beliefs and actions in life. From what I learned, those afterlives are generally the property of an Administrator or God, depending on if they are a divine power in the local universe. Because my brother fought to keep me here, rather than being sent to whatever other destination I may have ended up at, I was given a choice to stay here as a sort of purgatory, and other Souls may get similar opportunities as me. I should also explain the Checkpoint system.” Jake said, and George could hear the affection and pride for his brother in Jake’s voice.

“I’m assuming it's some kind of save system?”

“Essentially, yes. It will save your current state before going into the Dungeon, and any progress you make that isn’t a full level up will be taken by the Dungeon as payment. So you would lose any progress made after the Checkpoint, but not the progress besides levels you made after the Checkpoint. The Checkpoints are also where you can access features like Dungeon Banking, which allows you to store items and money while you are in the Dungeon. My brother thinks that he will eventually be able to set up Teleportation and other features linked to the Checkpoints, but that will take some time to unlock.”

“So, you’re saying I won’t die permanently if I die in the Dungeon?” George said with a look on his face somewhere between stunned and quizzical.

“Mostly correct, though dying isn’t without penalties, that would go too much against the System. From what my brother has told me, Dungeons are mostly there to protect Cores, though some cultures also view them as places to grow stronger. So if you intend to harm the Core, you will lose the protection of the Checkpoint, or if any God or Administrator has damned you for a reprehensible action, you may also lose the protection of the Checkpoint.”

“I can’t trust that you are telling me the truth, though,” George said, his hesitation about the situation present on his face.

“Fair enough, it is your life on the line. Maybe you should try out the Checkpoint, which will give you information from the System. After you do, the Portal to the First Floor will open. Actually, before you do that, you might want to go and introduce yourself to Lenny, our Dungeon Mascot. Depending on what kind of relationship you foster with him, you can gain some unique opportunities.”

As Jake finished saying that, George followed his pointed finger towards a chest-high wooden door in one of the walls off to the side, with what appeared to be an orange mouse head painted on it. Above the door was a wooden plaque with the word LENNY painted on in all capital letters. Below that was a more neatly printed sign that said, “Knock for inquiries.” The door looked innocuous enough, so George reached out and knocked on the door. Moments later, George heard a rustling coming from behind the door before the door cracked open slowly and an orange mouse head the size of a basketball peeked out. As Lenny took in George’s appearance, his body soon followed his head out the door leaving it halfway open. As George watched Lenny stretch out his body, reminding him of a Golden Retriever in his movement and demeanour, he heard Jake’s voice stage-whisper from behind him, “He likes scratches behind the ear.” As George had taken off his hockey gloves when talking to Jake and left them back on the counter, he reached his hand out and touched Lenny’s head behind his ear. Lenny tensed up as George first touched him, but quickly relaxed and kept his prone position as George began to scratch.

As Geroge continued to scratch behind Lenny’s ear, Lenny’s leg began to move, reminding George yet again of a friendly dog’s behaviour. As George finished scratching Lenny, Lenny shook his body before running back into his door, returning shortly after with a jar in hand. Lenny handed the jar to George, and George noticed the holes punched in the top of the jar, and the greenery in the bottom, followed soon after by the bee resting on one of the leaves. George turned to Lenny and asked, “Did you catch this?” To which Lenny pantomimed a swishing net as a seeming affirmative. George said, “Good job!” and ruffled Lenny’s hair on his head, seeing Lenny’s apparent pride in his accomplishment. Lenny’s facial expression seemed to show that he was stoically trying to accept the praise, but his swishing tail told another story. As George finished ruffling Lenny’s hair, he received a notification from the System.

Lenny's opinion of you has shifted from Neutral to mildly friendly. Lenny is available for guiding services.

George was surprised by the ease at which Lenny's opinion had been positively affected, but supposed he was one of the first people Lenny had met and counted his blessings. On the other, George didn’t feel like he had Lenny’s undying loyalty or anything like that, so maybe it wasn’t that much of an achievement. As George was pondering this, Lenny had returned the bee to his room and was currently tugging on Geroge’s hand, apparently wanting to lead him into another room with a more standard-sized door labelled Dojo. George reached down and patted Lenny’s hand, saying, “Not today Lenny.” Lenny looked up at George with watery eyes, so he quickly added, “Next time, though. Do you want to guide me through the Dungeon?” To which Lenny nodded an affirmative and then pointed towards his door. Intuiting what Lenny was getting at, George asked, “Do you want to get something out of your house? I can do some preparations while I wait for you to get back.”

Lenny ran back into his house, while George made his way back to the desk that Jake was behind to grab his hockey gloves. He saw Jake looking at him expectantly and said, “He’s going to guide me through the Dungeon. He’s more intelligent than a standard monster, right?”

“Lenny’s not quite a Dungeon Monster,” Jake’s emphasis on the word Monster stressing its importance. “Lenny is a Dungeon Mascot, which is more along the lines of an NPC from RPGs. If you are aggressive towards him, he might attack you, but he is friendly for the most part. He also seems to have the intelligence of a child around five to eight years old, though I am not a parent, so that may be a bit inaccurate.”

“I’ll just have to figure that out as I interact with him,” George said as he noticed Lenny running back towards them. There appeared to be something in Lenny’s right cheek, and as he got closer, George noticed that he was wearing an orange mask that only stood out because it was matte compared to Lenny’s iridescent fur.

George turned to follow Lenny, who was beckoning him towards some kind of pedestal. However, Jake interjected and said, “My brother wants to make an offer, instead of using the Dungeon Bank to store any items you aren’t going to take with you into the Dungeon, you can leave them behind in this Room. He will Absorb them but will replace them either with an exact copy or with an improved version using Dungeon Materials if possible. He also says a similar option will be available in the future, though in a more formal setting once he unlocks a feature called Dungeon Trading. You can also leave it here until next time you decide to come to the Dungeon, and he will offer you any improved versions he unlocks upon your return.”

George took a moment to think about it before grabbing a couple of the knives out of his bag and securing them to his chest protector with some duct tape. Eventually, he hoped to find a bandolier for them, but duct tape would work for his first exploration. There wasn’t anything that important in the equipment bag, so even if the Dungeon tried to rip him off, it wouldn’t be a huge loss. His Motive Sense Ability also let him know that at least Jake seemed to be telling him the truth, so he dropped the equipment bag on the floor and continued towards the pedestal. George heard Jake say from behind him, “Good luck, and just place your hand on the pedestal to activate the Checkpoint and open the Portal.” and waved to acknowledge what Jake said.

As George placed his hand on the pedestal, he received a couple of notifications that confirmed what Jake had told him and that Lenny was confirmed as his guide for this Dungeon run. As he finished reading these notifications, an azure Portal manifested on the wall behind the pedestal. As George stepped through the first mystical thing, he witnessed the Dungeon conjure, and Lenny followed close behind him. As George finished crossing through the portal, he realized he was in a room that appeared to be about the size of a football field. The ground seemed to be a field that was a mixture of knee-high grass in some areas, and rocky soil in others like you would find in some mountain passes. The room was lit like the midday sun, so he reached up and switched off the headlight. As George completed his action, he saw Lenny scamper ahead to the right and pointed to what appeared to be a chunk of flat rectangles rock. As Lenny did so, George’s Perception Technique triggered George to believe that the stone was a trap trigger. George made a mental note of the location, but his attention was grabbed by a pounding sound coming from the left-hand direction. About thirty feet away was a black shape, and as it drew closer, George could see it looked like a black version of Lenny, though only half Lenny’s size. As it got closer, it launched itself towards George, but he managed to intercept its attack with a horizontal swing of the baseball bat.

As George swung the bat, it connected with the Dungeon Mouse around its midsection, with a loud thump and crunch. The Mouse screeched with pain as it dropped to the ground, and George could see a bloody, broken rib coming out of its side as he stepped back to give himself some time to react to its next attack. The Mouse seemed to be in no hurry to make another leaping attack and instead tried to bite at George’s feet. George stepped back a couple of times before making a sweeping low kick, connecting again with the side with broken ribs, causing it to screech in pain. He took advantage of the Mouse’s reaction to its pain and made a sweeping blow to the side of its head with the baseball bat, seemingly stunning it momentarily. Following that, George took a step back to set up an overhead smash aimed at the top of the Mouse’s head, which he brought down with all of his body weight behind it, crushing the Mouse’s skull in the process. Disgustingly, the smash attack caused a not-insignificant amount of blood and brain matter to splash out of the wound while causing the Mouse’s dead eyes to bulge out of their socket before the head began leaking blood from all orifices.

George took another couple of steps back to put some distance between himself and the grisly sight and wanting to give himself some space if another attacker appeared. George didn’t want to trip over the body in his next fight, and as the thought crossed his mind, two things happened simultaneously. The first was that the Mouse’s body began to glow, seemingly condensing into an orb of light. The second was a clicking sound that came from beneath his left foot. George tried to react as soon as he heard that sound, but it was already too late. A searing pain shot through the back of his calf and out the front of his knee, and as George looked down, he could see a two-inch diameter metal spear jutting out from his knee. As George began to collapse onto his back, he saw the spear begin to retract, followed by a significant amount of blood beginning to pool at the base of the spear. It was bad, but not bad enough to indicate a cut femoral artery, yet still grievous enough to end his life soon if he didn’t get immediate medical attention, George’s mind clinically thought before the pain kicked in. George screamed, and Lenny bounded over from where he had been watching the situation develop. Lenny began patting down George’s pockets, and realizing what Lenny seemed to be doing, George managed to stop screaming and mutter “No Heals.”, which caused Lenny to stop searching and a mousey grimace to appear on Lenny’s face.

George could feel his consciousness slipping as he noticed Lenny bending over after having spit something on the ground. Lenny stood up, and with the solemnity that comes with being the grim reaper that helps guide the damned gently into the long sleep, Lenny bowed and gave the nunchucks a whirl before striking George across the head with them repeatedly. It was a noble attempt to ease George’s by Lenny and not an easy decision to make, judging by the tears in his eyes. However, after thirty seconds of the sound of thwacking from leather on hard plastic that was barely even able to move George’s head, Lenny stopped his attempt at euthanasia. Lenny scampered towards the end of the room, passing through the narrow passage at the back to the next room. George waited for Lenny’s return vacillating in and out of consciousness, at this point just wanting the pain to end before his eventual demise. Eventually, after an indeterminate amount of time, a blurry orange outline that George assumed to be Lenny, with something bluish in his arms. Lenny dropped it onto George’s face, George hearing a sizzling sound and having a brief moment of extreme pain before he faded into the blackness of oblivion.