Kofi Ajani knelt in the dusty clearing, his blade trembling in his hands. The weight of the chipped iron sword made it feel more like a burden than a weapon, especially as he stared into the glowing maw of the dungeon gate. It pulsed with an eerie, violet light, casting long shadows over the savannah behind him.

  The others—the real Hunters—had already gone in. Ten of them, fully armored, gleaming with enchanted weapons and confidence. Kofi stayed behind, guarding the camp as always. E-rank Hunters like him were little more than glorified errand boys. That’s what they reminded him of, at least.

  "Kofi, just stay out here and make sure the hyenas don’t eat our supplies," Juma, the raid leader, had said with a smirk. The others laughed, and Kofi forced a tight smile.

  That was three hours ago.

  Now, the gate began to flicker—a bad sign. Dungeon gates were supposed to remain stable until all the monsters inside were defeated. When they flickered like this, it meant one of two things: either the Hunters were on the verge of clearing it, or they were all dead.

  Kofi swallowed hard, his throat dry as the Harmattan wind that swept through northern Ghana. His heart told him to run, but his pride—what little he had left—kept him rooted to the spot.

  “They won’t die,” he muttered to himself, though even he didn’t believe it. “They’re S-rank and A-rank Hunters. People like that don’t just die.”

  The gate flickered again, its glow fading momentarily before reigniting with a blinding flash. A sound like shattering glass echoed across the clearing, and Kofi shielded his eyes as the gate collapsed inward.

  When the light cleared, there was nothing but silence. No triumphant Hunters. No monsters. Nothing.

  Kofi stood, his hands slick with sweat as he tightened his grip on the sword. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Gates didn’t just disappear like that. Where were the others?

  “Juma?” he called, his voice cracking. “Is anyone there?”

  No response.

  A cold dread seeped into his chest. He wasn’t sure if it was fear or something else—something wrong in the air. The clearing felt heavy, as though the world itself was holding its breath.

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  And then he saw it.

  A faint glimmer in the air, barely noticeable, like the shimmer of heat rising off hot sand. It floated where the gate had been, twisting and swirling like smoke caught in a breeze. Against his better judgment, Kofi stepped closer.

  The shimmer flared, and suddenly, it wasn’t a shimmer anymore. It was a doorway.

  Unlike the vibrant purple of the original gate, this one was black—inky and endless, like the void between stars. Kofi felt an invisible force pulling him toward it, a low hum reverberating in his skull. His instincts screamed at him to run, but something deeper kept him rooted.

  This is it, a voice whispered in his mind. It wasn’t his own voice, and it wasn’t friendly. It was cold, commanding, ancient.

  “This isn’t real,” Kofi said, taking a step back. “It’s just... I’m just imagining things.”

  The black void pulsed, and the air around him shifted. Shadows stretched unnaturally long, creeping toward him like living things.

  Kofi’s breath hitched as the pull became stronger, dragging him forward despite his protests. His feet moved on their own, and no matter how much he fought, he couldn’t stop himself from stepping through the doorway.

  The world blurred and twisted, and for a moment, Kofi felt like he was falling endlessly through darkness. His stomach churned, and a pressure built in his chest, as though the void itself was trying to crush him.

  When he landed, it was with a jarring thud.

  He groaned, pushing himself to his feet. The air here was thick, heavy with the stench of blood and decay. The ground beneath him was slick and dark, and when he looked down, he realized it wasn’t dirt—it was a black, tar-like substance that clung to his boots.

  The space around him was vast and empty, but the silence was wrong. It was the kind of silence that felt alive, as though something was watching.

  “Where... where am I?” Kofi muttered, his voice swallowed by the oppressive stillness.

  You have been chosen, the cold voice whispered again, sending chills down his spine.

  “Chosen for what?” he demanded, turning in circles, trying to find the source of the voice.

  To ascend, the voice replied. Or to perish.

  Before Kofi could respond, a light flared in the distance. It was faint, like a dying ember, but it grew steadily brighter. As it approached, Kofi realized it wasn’t a light at all.

  It was an eye.

  The creature that emerged from the darkness was unlike anything Kofi had ever seen. It was massive, its form shifting and writhing as though it couldn’t decide what it wanted to be. One moment it had wings, the next it had claws, and all the while, that single glowing eye remained fixed on him.

  Prove your worth, the voice said.

  The creature lunged.

  Kofi barely had time to react, raising his sword instinctively. The blade clashed against the creature’s claws, and the impact sent him sprawling. Pain shot through his arms, but he forced himself to his feet.

  The creature came again, faster this time. Kofi swung wildly, his blade glancing off its shifting form. His strikes were clumsy, desperate, but he refused to give up.

  Weak, the voice hissed. Pathetic. You are not worthy.

  “No!” Kofi shouted, slashing at the creature again. “I’m not dying here!”

  The sword connected, and for the first time, the creature recoiled. A dark, viscous liquid seeped from the wound, and the creature let out an ear-splitting screech.

  Kofi pressed the attack, his fear replaced by a surge of determination. He didn’t know where he was or what was happening, but he knew one thing: if he didn’t fight, he would die.

  With a final, desperate swing, Kofi drove the blade deep into the creature’s eye. It let out a guttural roar, then dissolved into shadow, leaving behind only the faint glimmer of light.

  Kofi fell to his knees, gasping for breath. His hands were trembling, but he couldn’t tell if it was from exhaustion or adrenaline.

  The voice spoke again, quieter this time.

  Perhaps you are worthy after all.

  Before Kofi could respond, the light enveloped him, and the world went dark once more.