Victor had grown accustomed to the rhythm of his new existence: the ticking of gears, the hiss of steam, the occasional creak of brass walls. But today, something felt different. The air was charged with tension, the forest holding its breath as if waiting for something to happen.
It began with a shout.
Victor’s core flared with alarm as a voice echoed through the trees. “Over here! I think I found something!”
Through a porthole, Victor saw them: a party of delvers, their armor glinting in the sunlight. There were two of them—a tall elf with a bow slung over her shoulder and a stocky dwarf wielding a massive hammer. They moved with the confidence of seasoned adventurers, their eyes scanning the forest for threats.
The elf, Aelin, crouched to examine the ground. “Tracks,” she said, her voice sharp and precise. “Something big passed through here recently. And it’s mechanical.”
The dwarf, Borin, snorted. “Mechanical? Out here? Don’t be daft, Aelin. Probably just some overgrown elephant beetle.”
Victor’s core pulsed with unease. Delvers. He had heard whispers of them from the System—adventurers who braved dungeons for treasure and glory. But he had never expected to encounter them so soon.
Aelin straightened, her keen eyes narrowing as they fell on Victor’s dungeon. “There,” she said, pointing. “That’s no beetle.”
Borin followed her gaze, his bushy eyebrows shooting up. “Well, I’ll be damned. A metal shed? What’s it doing out here?”
Victor’s mind raced. He could flee, but his mobility was limited—his dungeon moved at a sluggish 1 mph, and the delvers were already closing in. He could fight, but the thought of killing sent a chill through his core. I’m not a murderer, he thought. I’m just trying to survive.
The System chimed in, its robotic voice cold and clinical:
Threat Detected: Delver Party (Level 2)
Recommended Action: Deploy Traps.
Victor hesitated. He didn’t want to hurt them, but he couldn’t let them destroy him either. With a mental command, he readied his Net Launcher, a trap he had cobbled together from copper wiring and salvaged rope.
Borin was the first to step inside, his hammer resting on his shoulder. “Smells like a blacksmith's in here,” he grumbled, his voice echoing through the brass corridors.
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Aelin followed, her bow at the ready. “Stay sharp. This place feels… off.”
Victor watched through hidden cameras, his core pulsing with tension. The delvers moved cautiously, their eyes scanning the walls for traps. Borin reached out to touch a gear, his fingers brushing against the brass.
“Don’t—” Aelin began, but it was too late.
The Net Launcher fired, the rope net snapping out like a whip. Borin cursed as it wrapped around him, pinning his arms to his sides. He struggled, but the net held fast.
“Aelin!” he shouted, his voice muffled by the ropes.
Aelin raised her bow, her eyes narrowing as she scanned the room. “Show yourself!” she demanded, her voice sharp and commanding.
Victor remained silent, his core pulsing with guilt. He hadn’t wanted to hurt them, but he couldn’t risk letting them go. With another mental command, he activated the Smoke Vent, filling the room with thick, acrid smoke.
Aelin coughed, her eyes watering as she stumbled backward. “Borin, we need to get out of here!”
Victor watched as they retreated, their figures disappearing into the smoke. Borin dragged the net behind him, cursing under his breath. Aelin fired a few arrows blindly, the shafts clattering against the brass walls.
When the smoke cleared, the delvers were gone. Victor’s core pulsed with relief, but the feeling was short-lived. A notification flashed across the hologram:
Mana +30!
Item Acquired: Mana Crystal.
Victor’s Ticktocks retrieved the crystal, their tiny hands clutching the glowing shard. It was a small victory, but it left a bitter taste in Victor’s metaphorical mouth. I didn’t want to hurt them, he thought. But what choice did I have?
The encounter left Victor shaken. He had always thought of himself as a good person—someone who valued life and sought to do the right thing. But in this world, survival often came at a cost.
He spent the next few hours tinkering with his dungeon, trying to distract himself from the guilt gnawing at his core. The Ticktocks patrolled the hallways, their movements smooth and efficient. The Boiler hissed softly, its steam filling the dungeon with warmth.
But Victor couldn’t shake the image of Borin struggling against the net, his face twisted in anger and fear. What if they come back? He wondered. What if next time, I’m not so lucky?
The System chimed in, its voice cold and clinical:
Warning: Delver Threat Level Increased.
Recommended Action: Upgrade Defenses.
Victor sighed, his core pulsing with frustration. He didn’t want to hurt anyone, but he couldn’t afford to be naive. This world was harsh and unforgiving, and he needed to be ready for whatever came next.
With a mental command, he began upgrading his traps, his core pulsing with determination. I’ll survive, he thought. No matter what it takes.