They all sat around the long, rough-hewn table at the heart of the underground village. Joel’s eyes wandered to the bustle outside the meeting chamber. Beyond the carved archway, tunnels branched off in every direction, illuminated by patches of glowing fungi that bathed the burrow in soft greens and blues. Rabbits—large, bipedal, and wearing scraps of fabric for clothing—hopped briskly between makeshift stalls and small huts carved into the walls. Their fur shimmered faintly in the bioluminescent light. Here and there, Joel spotted humans, maybe a dozen, mingling with other creatures he couldn’t immediately identify—something like a scaled wolf and a bird the size of a small child.


    The scene was almost too much to take in. “How many people live here?” Joel finally asked, breaking the silence.


    “Two hundred, give or take,” Gideon replied, his voice steady and calm. “Mostly rabbits, though you’ve probably noticed a few oddities mixed in. Strays, like you. Everyone here found their way underground after the merge. Most don’t dare stay on the surface anymore—not with the lizards roaming around.”


    Joel frowned. “And this place? You just built it? How?”


    Gideon smiled faintly. “Not me. That was the clan’s doing.” He nodded to the rabbits down below. Jace, a wiry figure with sharp, calculating eyes, pushed his glasses up his nose as if on cue. “Now, Jace helped too. He figured out how to expand the burrow into something livable. Reinforced the walls, routed power, even rigged up ventilation. Without him, we’d still be living in the dark.”


    Jace shrugged, his voice low and pragmatic. “It wasn’t just me. Ren held it together when things got tough. People needed a reason to keep going, and she gave them one.”


    At the mention of her name, Ren—broad-shouldered and armoured in scars that looked earned, not taken—leaned forward, her hands clasped in front of her. “It’s not about me. It’s about all of us. Everyone here fights, even if it’s just to keep the tunnels clean or fend off the smaller creatures from the dungeon. We survive because we don’t stop.” Her voice was edged with determination, the kind Joel imagined could carry an army into hell.


    Joel turned back to Gideon, his brow furrowed. “And you said this is connected to a dungeon? What does that mean exactly?”


    Gideon’s voice dropped, his eyes clouding with a distant look. “The dungeons… they whisper of forgotten worlds, of planets shattered and reborn in cosmic collisions. They’re fragments of realities lost to time, yet they hold everything we need: supplies, power, weapons, cards, even the very essence of advancement. But be warned: these places are not kind. They are hungry, and they will devour the unwary. Yet, for those brave enough to face the abyss, there is no greater prize.”


    Joel leaned back, crossing his arms. “How does that even work? You just go in, fight some monsters, and come back with loot? That sounds… convenient.” He let out a dry chuckle. “Right. Like some cosmic vending machine that dispenses power and riches to anyone willing to punch a few goblins. I’m sure there’s absolutely no downside.”


    Jace snorted softly. “Convenient, he says. Yeah, sure. If you don’t count the traps, the death traps, the shifting corridors, or the fact that every step deeper brings nastier things clawing at your throat.”


    "The dungeons," Gideon said, his voice dropping to a somber tone, "they''re remnants of worlds shattered long ago, like ours. We''re all survivors, scraping by on the scraps of a broken reality."


    Ren’s voice cut through. “It’s not for the faint of heart. But it’s kept this place alive.”


    “It will endure,” Gideon added, “provided we work together. We operate on a shared system: teams delve into the dungeons, gather resources, and bring them back to be distributed amongst the entire burrow. It’s a system built on cooperation, and while it has its flaws, it sustains us.”


    Logan, who had been silent up to this point, let out a low, humorless laugh. He was leaning back in his chair, balancing a knife on his fingertip, the blade catching the dim light. “If by ‘works,’ you mean barely keeps us alive, clinging to the edge of a cliff by our fingernails. Every trip feels like a coin flip—heads you come back with something shiny, tails you’re rabbit food for the beasts down there. And eventually,” he added, his voice dropping to a near whisper, “the coin’s gonna land tails.”


    Joel glanced at Logan, noting the rabbit’s easy smirk and laid-back posture. “And you’re okay with that?” He studied Logan’s expression. “You’ve chosen the blue pill, haven’t you? Like that guy with the steak. He knew it was a simulation, but the taste, the feeling…it was enough. Is this enough for you?”


    Logan’s grin widened. “Life’s a gamble, friend. I’m just the guy who enjoys the roll of the dice.” He spun the knife on his fingertip, the blade flashing. “Win or lose, it’s the game that matters. The thrill of the spin, the anticipation… that’s what makes it worth it.”


    Gideon chuckled, shaking his head. “Logan’s Logan. He’s reckless as hell but always seems to come out the other side in one piece. Somehow.”


    “Luck,” Logan replied, his voice dripping with mock humility. “Pure, unadulterated luck.”


    Joel’s focus shifted back to Gideon. “So, how did this all start? How’d you end up here?”


    “The merge,” Gideon explained, “had been a violent collision, their clock tower outpost slamming into this world like an egg cracking in a pan. The impact scattered his people, and before they could recover, they were overrun by lizard-like creatures, forcing them to retreat to a small, hastily prepared fallback location.” Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    Gideon sighed, leaning back in his chair. “The merge forced our hand. With the system changes, the surface became too dangerous. We needed shelter, and this place became our refuge. At first, it was just a few barely livable tunnels. But between Jace’s ingenuity, Ren’s determination, and, well... Logan’s luck, we built it into something more, something sustainable.”


    “And now you’re surviving,” Joel said quietly, his eyes scanning the room again.


    “For now,” Ren replied, her tone hard. “But surviving isn’t living. Not yet.”


    “So, what do we do?”


    “Levels,” Jace smiled. “Simple, enough. We get stronger, and strike back.”


    Joel shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his fingers drumming against the edge of the rough wooden table. “So… what you’re telling me is I need to—what? Grind levels? Like a damn video game? While my family’s out there?” His voice was sharp, frustration bleeding into every word.


    Gideon met his gaze, calm and steady. “It’s not just grinding levels, Joel. It’s about surviving long enough to make a difference. You go out there now, unprepared, and you won’t make it ten miles. Trust me. We’ve seen it happen.”


    Ren nodded, her expression as hard as stone. “You think you’re the first to want to run out there? To charge into the chaos and try to fix everything all at once? I get it. But rushing in half-cocked gets you killed. Then what happens to your family?”


    Joel’s jaw tightened. “I can’t just sit here while they could be—” He cut himself off, his voice cracking. He sucked in a breath, gripping the edge of the table so tightly his knuckles went white. “I’m not saying I’d be stupid about it. I’d figure it out as I go.”


    Logan snorted, his chair creaking as he leaned back, still spinning that damn knife between his fingers. “Figuring it out on the fly? That’s a great way to get eaten. Trust me—been there, tried that.”


    Joel shot him a glare. “I don’t have time to sit around. You all act like I’ve got months to spare.”


    Gideon’s voice softened, though his words carried a weight that made Joel hesitate. “How much time do you think you’ll have if you get yourself killed on day one? You’re not the first person the system’s forced to make hard choices. Hell, you won’t be the last. But this—” he gestured at the glowing tunnels, “—this village works because people here took the time to learn. To grow stronger. You think that world’s easy? It’s not. It’ll chew you up and spit you out if you walk in unprepared. That’s what the system’s done—it’s made survival a game. A brutal one.”


    Joel leaned forward, his voice low. “You don’t understand. My family is out there. Every second I sit here, every minute I waste—”


    Ren cut him off. “I do understand. More than you think.” Her gaze was piercing, unwavering. “You think you’re the only one with people out there? My sister was on the surface, on our old outpost, when this all started. I haven’t seen her since. But you know what? Me running out blindly wouldn’t help her. Not one bit. That’s what you don’t get yet, Joel. You’re not ready.”


    Joel stared at her, the anger in his chest turning bitter, like bile. He looked down at the table, his thoughts racing. “So what? I just level up? Swing a sword, or better yet, my hammer until I get better at it? Hope the system doesn’t screw me over?”


    Jace chimed in then, his voice quieter, more measured. “It’s not just about swinging a sword, man. It’s about understanding how it all works—skills, cards, upgrades. Every fight teaches you something, and every level makes you stronger. You’ll get more cards, better tools, and the power you need to face whatever’s out there.” He pushed his glasses up again, his gaze critical. “And let’s be honest—with the system’s here, it’s not going anywhere. The monsters aren’t going anywhere. The sooner you start thinking long-term, the better.”


    “You sound like the guys back at the supply depo…”


    Logan grinned from his seat. “Plus, leveling up’s kinda fun. You’d be surprised what a few new skills can do for your confidence.”


    Joel shot him a glare but didn’t reply. His mind was already spinning with everything they were telling him. The system. Levels. Skills. Cards. It all felt overwhelming, like the ground had shifted beneath him, and he was being forced to learn how to walk all over again.


    “You’re saying the dungeon is the best way?” he finally asked, his voice quieter now.


    Gideon nodded. “The dungeon is dangerous, yeah. But it’s the only place we’ve found where you can grow strong fast enough to matter. You’ll gain levels, skills, and maybe even cards—cards that could give you abilities you haven’t even imagined yet. That’s what you need before you leave here. Before you try to save anyone.”


    Joel’s chest tightened, his hands clenching at his sides. “What if I can’t? What if—”


    Ren cut him off again, though her voice wasn’t unkind this time. “You can. You’re still here, aren’t you? You made it this far, which means you’re stronger than you think. The system wants us to fight, Joel, but it’s also giving us the tools to survive. You just need to learn how to use them.”


    For a moment, no one spoke. The soft hum of voices from the tunnels beyond filled the silence, mixed with the distant sound of clinking metal and the low hum of something electrical—Jace’s handiwork, Joel assumed.


    Finally, Joel let out a slow breath, his shoulders dropping a little. “Alright,” he muttered. “You’re saying I need to level up before I do anything else. Fine. I’ll stick around—for now. But I’m not waiting forever. Once we free those people and I think I’m ready, I’m gone.”


    Gideon gave him a small nod of approval. “Fair enough. And when that time comes, we’ll make sure you’ve got a fighting chance.”


    Logan grinned, flipping his knife once before catching it. “Stick with us, big guy. You’ll be fighting monsters and leveling up in no time. Maybe you’ll even look good doing it.”


    Joel rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the small, reluctant smile tugging at his lips. He still didn’t like it—this waiting, this playing along with a system he didn’t ask for. But maybe they were right. Maybe the best way to get his family back was to make sure he could survive long enough to do it. For now, he’d learn. And when the time came, nothing was going to stop him.


    Jace beamed, a grin spreading across his face like sunshine after a rainstorm. "Oh, we almost forgot the pièce de résistance! You see, time... well, time has a funny way of behaving in that dungeon. It''s like it''s got its own little wristwatch, completely out of sync with ours. One week spent braving its depths? Why, that''s barely a single sunrise out here!"