Joel and the group of rabbit dungeon divers stood before the dungeon gate, their collective breaths hitching at the sight of it. The massive structure loomed like an ancient relic pulled straight from science fiction. A circular frame of swirling black metal glowed faintly, interwoven with shimmering blue runes that pulsed rhythmically, emitting a low, resonant hum. The air around it felt subtly warmer, a faint breeze whispering from within the swirling vortex. Inside the ring, a churning pool of light and shadow rippled, like liquid starlight caught in perpetual motion, radiating a faint warmth.


    Joel’s eyes widened as he stepped closer, his voice bursting with excitement. “No way. This is straight out of Stargate—I mean, look at it! The runes, the swirling energy, the way it just screams intergalactic adventure. It’s almost perfect.”


    Logan raised an eyebrow, leaning on his spear with a smirk. “Stargate? That some kind of nerd thing? Because I feel like that is something Jace would say.”


    Joel whipped his head around, incredulous. “Some kind of nerd thing? It’s a sci-fi classic! You know, big ring, wormholes to other worlds, awesome team dynamic? Please tell me someone here has seen it. If a lizard has seen Robocop, come on. There’s gotta be some kind of dimensional bleed or something.”


    Jace chuckled, stepping forward to get a better look at the gate. “Actually, I’ve seen a few episodes. You mean like that thing Colonel O’hare uses to—what’s it called—‘dial’ other planets? Yeah, some scholars theorize that certain points of convergence… like this gate… can amplify those echoes.”


    Joel’s grin faltered, replaced by a look of confusion. “Wait, you’ve seen it? How? You just got here, to Earth, what 520?” He paused a second, “… not on my Earth.”


    Jace shrugged. “We have our own version. It was quite popular a few cycles back. Though… ours will be a bit different.” He paused, a faint smile playing on his lips. “It was called ‘Star Burrow.’ Starring Captain Cottontail and his team of elite… rabbit explorers.”


    Joel blinked, trying to process this. “Rabbit… explorers?”


    Jace nodded. “Indeed. They hopped through the star burrows, battling space weasels and rescuing damsel bunnies from the clutches of the evil General Hare.”


    Joel’s grin returned, wider than before. “Space weasels? This is amazing. So, like, did they have little spaceships shaped like carrots?”


    Jace chuckled. “Not exactly. They had… rocket-powered burrows. Much more practical for traversing the cosmos.”


    “Cool,” Joel said with a grin spread ear to ear. “Yes! Exactly that. This gate could pass for the real deal. Honestly, if this thing starts spinning and locking symbols, I might lose it. Indeed! And hopefully, we don''t run into any Goa''uld or Replicators… or space weasels.”


    Gideon crossed his arms, shaking his head with an amused sigh. “Focus, Joel. This isn’t a TV show. It’s a dungeon, and it’s going to be dangerous.”


    Ren, standing slightly apart from the group, frowned and gestured toward the gate. “He’s right. We can gawk later. Let’s figure out what’s on the other side before something comes through to greet us.” As she spoke, a flicker of movement caught her eye within the swirling vortex—a brief flash of something scaled and serpentine.


    Joel sighed but nodded, stealing one last glance at the magnificent construct. “Fine, fine. But you have to admit, it’s a work of art.”


    Ren retorted, "A work of art that could very well lead to our untimely demise. Let''s try to appreciate it from a safe distance, shall we?"


    Logan rolled his eyes, stepping closer to the gate. “Alright, nerd. Lead the way, then.”


    The team gathered near the shimmering portal, their expressions shifting to a mixture of excitement and tension. The air crackled with energy, and the runes on the frame seemed to shift and reconfigure as if the gate were recalibrating its dimensional frequency.


    “Ready?” Jace asked, gripping his weapon tightly.


    Joel inhaled deeply, steadying himself. “Let’s do this.”


    One by one, they stepped into the churning light.


    The sensation of passing through the gate was both exhilarating and disorienting. Joel felt his body stretch and compress at the same time like he was being unravelled and rewoven in the blink of an eye. He had a fleeting impression of countless other realities flickering past him, like static on a broken television, all converging within the gate''s intricate mechanism. Stars danced in his vision, and his breath caught as if suspended in a vacuum.


    When his feet finally landed on solid ground again, he stumbled forward, blinking rapidly to clear his head. Around him, the others emerged from the vortex, equally shaken but regaining their composure.


    Joel exhaled slowly, his voice breaking the silence. “Okay. That was not in the show. Did anyone see if my hair got that cool windblown look like O''Neill always has? No? Just me? Okay. I think that rig just gave me a glimpse into the multiverse. My brain feels like scrambled eggs.”


    Joel staggered as he walked forward, his steel-toed work boots landing on cold metal with a resounding clang. His breath hitched as he started to take in the sight before him.


    They stood in a cavernous room with metallic walls that shimmered faintly under dim, flickering lights. Stacks of crates lined the edges of the chamber, some branded with strange, indecipherable symbols, others marked with glowing red warnings. Holo panels embedded in the walls flickered sporadically, displaying streams of alien text interspersed with corrupted images of machinery and unfamiliar landscapes.


    But what truly held Joel’s attention were the windows.


    Massive, arched panes of glass stretched from floor to ceiling, revealing an endless void beyond. Stars shimmered in clusters, like scattered jewels against a pitch-black canvas, while ribbons of swirling energy twisted and coiled in the distance. The sheer scale of it was overwhelming, and Joel felt a strange mix of awe and insignificance.


    “Whoa…” he breathed, stepping closer to the nearest window. His fingers brushed against the smooth surface as he leaned in, trying to take it all in. “It’s… it’s like we’re floating in space.”


    Logan gave a low whistle, joining Joel at the window. “Not bad. Definitely beats the last dungeon we hit. No dank caves or endless corridors of slime this time.”This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work.


    A sudden image flashed through Joel’s mind: the crushing pressure of the void, the monstrous shapes that had emerged from the darkness, their gaping maws filled with rows of razor-sharp teeth. He remembered the desperate scramble to reach the lifeboats, the deafening roar of the exploding rig as it tore apart behind him. The icy grip of terror returned for a fleeting moment, before he forced it down, focusing on the present.


    Above them, a series of signs hung suspended on steel beams. The letters glitched and stuttered, but Joel could make out the words:


    WELCOME, PASSENGERS, TO EPSILON STATION.


    “Passengers?” Joel muttered, frowning. “What kind of dungeon is this?” His tone shifted, becoming sharper, more focused. This wasn’t some monster-infested cave; this was something… different. Something more organized.


    Joel’s survived the smooth metal flooring, it was very different compared to the catwalks he was used to, as they moved into what was unmistakably a welcoming area—or at least, it had been at some point. The chamber stretched wide and open, like an airport customs terminal abandoned to time and decay. Rows of metallic benches lined the center of the space, their surfaces dull and scratched, with a few tipped over or shifted out of place. Small kiosks stood at even intervals, their screens dark and lifeless, and signs hung from above, still flickering with fragmented messages: "Please Present Your Boarding Pass" and "Welcome to Epsilon Station: Gateway to the Stars."


    Joel''s gaze caught on the odd juxtaposition of alien sterility and artificial attempts at comfort. A row of fake plants, their leaves unnaturally glossy, sat in squat containers along the walls. A few had toppled, their plastic roots jutting out, and one had been trampled completely flat. The contrast was almost comical like someone had desperately tried to make the station feel inviting but only managed to highlight its emptiness.


    Near the far side of the room, the remnants of a reception desk jutted from the floor, its once-pristine metallic surface now tarnished with streaks of blood. Behind it, holographic projectors flickered, their disjointed images flashing between serene starfield vistas and distorted static. Joel couldn’t shake the feeling that the images were watching him, waiting for him to look away.


    Above the desk hung a massive digital display that had clearly been a focal point at one time. Now, it scrolled fragmented warnings in jagged red text: "Station Offline - Proceed With Caution." Beneath it, an overturned luggage cart lay abandoned, the wheels creaking faintly with the movement of air in the room. Joel felt his pulse quicken at the eerie silence that hung over everything, broken only by the faint hum of dormant machinery and the distant crackle of failing lights.


    Behind them, Ren crouched near the center of the room, running her fingers along deep scratches etched into the floor. The jagged lines cut into the metal violently making her brow furrow. She glanced up, her expression dark. “These are fresh. Whatever made them wasn’t here long ago.”


    Joel’s stomach tightened as he followed the trail of scratches. They ended abruptly near a streak of what looked unsettlingly like dried blood, smeared across the floor in jagged arcs as though something—or someone—had been dragged. The stain disappeared beneath a door on the far side of the room, its surface marked with more crimson streaks.


    “Could be something big,” Logan said casually, though his grip on his spear tightened, knuckles whitening. His gaze darted to the windows, the endless void outside suddenly feeling less empty and more... watchful.


    Gideon moved toward one of the disrupted holo-panels, his sharp eyes scanning the scattered debris nearby. A few cables dangled loose from the wall, swaying faintly as if recently disturbed. A dented crate lay overturned at his feet, its contents—a mix of broken electronics and shattered glass—spilled like entrails. “There’s definitely been movement here,” he said, his voice low and steady. “Maybe hours, maybe minutes ago. Either way, we’re not alone.”


    The air felt thick, and oppressive, as though the room had taken a breath and was holding it, waiting for something to happen. A faint metallic tang tickled Joel’s nose, and he realized it wasn’t just stagnant air—there was blood in the air. His hand instinctively reached for the hammer on his belt, fingers tightening around its grip.


    Then came the sound: a faint, rhythmic tapping, like claws against metal, echoing faintly through the room. It was coming from the same direction as the smeared blood trail. Ren rose to her feet, her brass knuckles already on in one smooth motion. “Stay sharp,” she murmured. “Whatever it is, it’s still here.”


    Joel tore his gaze from the void and joined the others. His heart still pounded from the memory, but his expression was now resolute. “So… recon first. We need to assess the situation. Gideon, can you get anything off those holo-panels?”


    Ren rose to her feet, brushing dust from her hands. “Agreed. We need intel before we engage. Logan, keep an eye on the exits. I’ll check for any other signs of recent activity.”


    Jace’s hand moved with practiced ease, the two ornate pistols at his sides completing a swift, silent rotation before he caught them, the motion almost too fast to follow. The faint magical energy that usually wreathed them flickered briefly, then died down, leaving them cold and metallic.


    Logan nodded, his smirk replaced with a sharp seriousness. “Let’s keep it tight. No splitting up, no hero moves.”


    Joel gripped the handle of his hammer, his earlier awe completely replaced by a cold, calculating focus. “Got it. Let’s see what this place has in store. But we do this smart.”


    With that, the group began their cautious advance deeper into the Void Observatory, the vast, empty station offering no comfort—only silence, shadows, and the promise of danger lurking just out of sight.


    The group moved cautiously through the room, their boots echoing off the cold metallic floor—each footstep a stark intrusion on the oppressive silence. Each member fanned out, scanning for anything useful among the scattered debris and overturned crates. The air carried an almost suffocating stillness, thick with the metallic tang of old blood and something else… something faintly acrid, like ozone after a lightning strike. The only sound was the occasional, unsettling flicker of damaged holo-panels, which cast long, dancing shadows that seemed to writhe and shift in their peripheral vision.


    Joel summon his armour, energy levels at a hundred percent and he used his HUD scanning ability to highlight objects in the low light. A faint, high-pitched whine emitted as the biometal lenses in his helmet illuminated, bathing the area in a sickly blue light that seemed to drain the colour from everything it touched. Pathways highlighted themselves before him in translucent overlays, leading toward storage crates and half-concealed doors. One of the highlighted crates emitted a soft green glow, marking it as intact.


    “Found something,” Joel called, his voice barely above a whisper, as if afraid to break the silence. With a swift motion, he pried it open to reveal small energy cells and what looked like a strange piece of wiring, coated in a viscous, dark fluid. “Supplies, maybe for recharging?” he said, his voice laced with unease as he pocketed a few of the cells, trying not to touch the fluid.


    Ren moved along the edges of the room. She crouched near another blood smear, but this one was different. It wasn''t just a smear; it was a dark, viscous pool that had partially congealed, and the air around it shimmered slightly as if heat still radiated from it. Her face was hard as stone, her eyes wide with a mixture of fear and grim determination. “These marks are older,” she said, gesturing to claw-like indentations carved deep into the wall beside her. The indentations weren''t just scratches; they were deep gouges as if something had tried to tear its way through the metal. “Whatever came through here, it wasn’t subtle. And it was strong.”


    Logan wandered toward a corner of the room, kicking over a rusted plate with a sharp, echoing clang that seemed to amplify the oppressive silence. “Well, subtle’s not the word I’d use for goblins or lizardmen,” he muttered, his voice strained as he crouched down to examine something in the shadows. He held up a shard of blackened metal, the edges jagged and warped. Deep grooves ran along its surface, almost like the imprint of claws, but far too large for any goblin. The metal itself seemed to pulse with a faint, internal heat. “But something was here.”


    Jace’s normal smile was gone, replaced by a look of genuine fear. His eyes darted nervously to the shadows beyond the dim light. “We will find out soon enough.”


    But Joel wasn’t listening. He straightened, his scanning overlay catching not just ripples in the air, but distinct heat signatures, moving in the shadows beyond the crates. They weren''t small, flickering heat signatures like humans might produce. These were different, cold, and moved with a disturbing, fluid grace. His pulse quickened, a cold dread settling in his stomach as he whispered, his voice trembling slightly, “Guys… we’re not just being watched. We’re being hunted.”