Weapons of Mass Destruction

Welcome to the 4th floor of the First Dungeon!

There are no safe zones on this floor.

4th Floor quest: Permanently sacrifice 15 stat points at The Quiet Circle

Rewards:

14-day Stay Token

100,000 shards

Activation stone for the portal to the 5th floor

I had heard about this “quest” before, but a part of me always suspected it might just be a joke Weslin was trying to drag me into. Reading it now though…

“I told you,” he says at my side, already knowing what is going through my head. “But let’s get to the Megacity before something finds us outside.”

“Attendees really don’t fuck with names,” I mumble as I follow behind him, only the two of us appearing here.

“I thought you preferred it that way. Said it was easier to remember.”

“That doesn’t mean I can’t complain about it.”

He mumbles something, probably something insulting about me, but while we run, I keep examining the fourth floor, or at least what I can see of it. We’re currently passing through a canyon, its walls rising miles into the sky, towering over us like cliffs of stone. The place is enormous, oppressive, and yet strangely still.

Soon after, we exit that canyon only to enter a wide valley surrounded by even taller walls, enclosing us on all sides.

The mountains and cliffs look fairly normal at first glance, just scaled up to absurd levels. The valleys are covered in greenery, knee-high grass, patches of shrubs, and even an array of exotic plants, somehow growing out of the rock itself.

We continue running for more than ten minutes, and I don’t see anything resembling a broad plain or open flatlands. Mountains crowd the horizon in every direction, as if some mad cartographer got drunk and scattered them all over the place like a lunatic. It’s just as Weslin described. And, as he said, we don’t meet any monsters this close to the Megacity. We even pass a few attendees heading out on hunts, a reminder that the areas nearest to the city are deliberately being kept safer.

The fourth floor used to be unlivable thousands of years ago. Beyond explorers and the descendants of attendees who came here almost always died, unable to resist the monsters and establish any footholds without the protection of standardized safe zones. Back then, they were forced to hide in caves, build tiny camps, and never move in large groups for fear of drawing the monsters that loved nothing more than hunting them down.

That was until she entered the fourth floor. The current strongest Local in all the Beyond. The Pathfinder Thane.

She started the same way as everyone else, hiding in caves, burrowing underground, running from monsters with nowhere to stay for long. But her story stretches across decades. She gathered other Locals, sometimes earned help from the early attendees, and slowly built up her forces.

Still, it wasn’t all teamwork and happy cooperation. No, it was her power that made it possible. Her power and her power alone. She was the daughter of two powerful attendees who had died in beyond long ago, and she grew into something beyond them. People were drawn to her like moths to flame, and under her lead, they carved out what became the first real base here: the Megacity. Not a true safe zone, but a city, guarded by her alone.

We exit another canyon, and the view opens.

The Megacity doesn’t look like something planned. It looks more like something that just happened. Built where the canyon widens into a massive bowl-shaped valley, the place feels half-carved and half-grown out of the mountain itself.

The outer zones sprawl across wide terraces stacked against the canyon walls like the steps of a giant staircase. They’re packed with rough housing, stalls, forges, and crowds of people. These layers look newer, pieced together from stone, bone, wood, and scavenged metal.

The deeper you go, the more ordered the city becomes. The middle zones climb higher up the terraces, fortified with walls and guarded gates, streets paved with cobblestones worn smooth by countless steps. These parts feel older.

Above them sits the upper city, carved directly into the cliffside. Wide balconies, fortifications, and halls cut into the rock itself, lit by softly glowing lights. According to Weslin, this is where the old families and the rich live, where the guild branches are located, and where the descendants of Thane’s first companions keep their residences.

At the very center, on the highest plateau, lies the innermost zone. Safe, beautiful, luxurious, the place where the Handlers are rumored to gather. Its gates are marked by the skeletal remains of some colossal beast, half a ribcage arching overhead, bone fused with stone, bleached white against the dark cliffs.

Some say it once belonged to a Champion-grade monster Thane slew when defending the city during a month-long siege. Others whisper that it was already here, buried in the rock long before the dungeon itself truly formed. Either way, the bones are bigger than buildings, and their shadow looms across the inner city like a permanent reminder of her power.

From outside, the Megacity looks like a great spiral fortress climbing the canyon wall, layers upon layers, chaotic yet holding some strange order. And above it all, like a crown, sits her residence, cut into the highest ridge, overlooking everything below.

Weslin and I enter the Megacity without much trouble, though I immediately sense multiple scans and marks being placed on me, the same kind Spark and Marble spoke about back on the second floor of the Beyond.

Just as it looked from a distance, the zones farthest from the Pathfinder’s keep are the newest and likely the least safe. Still, I doubt the others would just sit back and watch monsters chew through the outer districts without lifting a finger.

Slowly, the mood shifts the deeper we go. The main difference, though, is that we get stopped by guards more often as we pass through the gates, the marks on our persons changing to grant temporary access to each new zone as we head toward our guild branch. The deeper we go, the prettier and cleaner everything becomes, and the more expensive the residences are.

It is possible to buy a residence permit or get one from your Handler as a reward, and even those are split into tiers, low-end, mid-end, and high-end. There are even rumors of “named” residences, ten of them in total, almost impossible to obtain, even for S-ranks.

The city itself is divided in much the same way. Low city, mid city, high city, and the inner city, where Handlers are rumored to live as well. With Weslin, I pass into the high city and toward the guild branch located there.

The street is quiet, lined with tall green trees, the color standing out sharply against pale gray stone. Vines climb the walls, adding streaks of red, purple, and gold. Immediately, I notice the other guild branches as well, Bloodline, Frontier, and Crimson Forge. Every guild in the top ten has a presence here, along with a few others.

Our branch isn’t quite as large as the one on the third floor in the Black Tower city. It’s just a black gate that leads into a pathway through a small, well-kept garden and then to a multi-story building in the center. Behind it lies a terrace and a few small sparring areas.

Inside, it doesn’t seem overly decorated. In fact, there are almost no decorations to speak of. Just stone that radiates a sense of firmness and copper-colored inscriptions etched into the walls, with soft lights framing the hallways. The open rooms have sparse furniture in white and pale blue, the same colors as our guild uniforms, the same ones I’m wearing now.

All the demons here are behaving themselves. Tame, almost. No one raises their voice. No one tries to challenge me. They just move about, quietly doing their jobs.

As we pass through the rooms, we come across Morwag. He’s seated in a white armchair that looks a bit too small for him and talking with a demon woman at his side. When he spots us, he gestures casually in greeting.

“Nyssa’s in the garden,” he says simply, then turns back to his conversation. The woman giving us a lingering look as we pass.

Passing through another long hallway, we finally end up alone. Weslin glances at me, opening his mouth like he wants to say something, but then he shuts it again. Without a word, he opens a door and gestures for me to step into the garden while he stays behind.

The garden isn’t large, framed on three sides by buildings. In the middle stands a single tree, its trunk surrounded by a circular patch of grass and a lone bench. The tree is pale white, its thick stump scarred by the damage that’s clearly split it in two. One half remains dead and hollow, while the other half grows into a new trunk, living and strong.

As I walk past it, I catch its scent, it smells like freshly cut grass with a faint hint of citrus. I stop for a moment, taking a few deep breaths, then move toward the figure waiting at the far end.

Nyssa Volare stands at the far side of the garden. The garden is open there, not walled in by buildings, and instead reveals a view of the Megacity below and the valley framed in by the mountains. The square opening looks almost like a portal, a window cut into the fabric of the world.

When I approach, she turns. Nyssa is not much taller than Lily, petite even, and her appearance is that of what I would almost call an albino. Her skin is unnaturally pale, her horns are the same color, and her eyebrows and eyelashes are all white as well. The horns curve in a style similar to Vega’s, but they’re a bit longer, and her left horn is shorter than her right. Her hair is raven black, falling to the middle of her back. She wears the same style of pale blue shirt and white pants I do.

Her eyes lock with mine. Unlike other demons, hers are a pale shade of red, fading into white. The edges burn crimson, but near the pupil, the color grows increasingly pale until it forms a white ring around her irises.

And she smiles. It’s not sarcastic, not fake. It is almost gentle, a true smile. Like sunshine.

“You have very pretty eyes,” she says, her voice soft, matching that smile. She takes a step closer. “I am Nyssa Volare. I am happy to finally meet you, Nathaniel.”

Somewhat awkwardly, I take her offered hand and shake it. “Nathaniel Gwyn. Nice meeting you.”

She lets go and steps back, the view of the city and valley framing her from behind. She stands close to the edge of the stone platform with no railing, nothing between her and the drop.

“Do you have any questions for me?” Nyssa asks playfully. Her eyes dart around like those of a hyperactive child, rushing to catch sight of something amusing.

“I heard you needed me on the fifth floor,” I answer.

Her eyes tick back to me as she half-smiles. “I do, but that’ll have to wait for now. Just do your best to survive until then. But that wasn’t all you wanted to ask, right?”

I shake my head. “I heard you have three energies. Kinetic and two of the rarer ones. I’ve only heard of one other person with three.”

“Professor Feran from the Academy, isn’t it?” Nyssa nods slowly. “What a tame lost demon that man was. But you are right, I have three. Would you really like to know about them?”

I keep watching her, searching for a flicker of danger in her tone, a shadow of hostility, a crack in her composure. Yet there’s nothing there for me to find. And slowly, painfully, I understand why.

Nyssa does not see me as a threat. Not even a tiny bit. She looks at me the same way I would look at a child devoid of power.

“Yes,” I manage to say, the words catching in my throat.

She gives a short laugh, tilts her head, and nods. “One of them is Primordial Blood. The other I will keep to myself. But Nathaniel, if you tell anyone, I will be angry.”

“I’ll keep it to myself,” I answer.

“Good. You can go now, and please send in Weslin as you leave.”

I do exactly as told. Out in the hallway, I slump into a chair just as Weslin enters the garden behind me.

Only then do I notice what my body has been doing on its own. My Mana Wavelength iris has flared into activity, hitting its absolute limit. The second seal on my Ignition Heart is still lifted, pulsing violently. A black halo spins above my head, while kinetic energy bounces inside my body with every heartbeat.

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

I look at my hand trembling in front of me, and a rough laugh escapes me. Shaky and bitter.

An hour later, Weslin and I are sitting in one of the guild lounges when the notification appears.

Emergency Beyond Event in Progress!

Participation Parameters:

Location – Fourth Floor.

B-Rank and above.

All individuals currently engaged in the guild war declared by the Eternal Court against the Primordial Knights, and all individuals interfering with the Ancient Armory located on the Fourth Floor.

Special Conditions:

S-Rank participants will be transferred to a separate event zone. They will be assigned higher-risk objectives, distinct from those of the lower-ranked participants.

Primary Objective:

Prevent the threat contained in the Ancient Armory from awakening, escaping, and annihilating all Locals and Attendees present on the Fourth Floor.

Time Constraint:

Maximum duration: seven days. Duration may be reduced without prior notification.

Rewards:

None other than what can be taken during the Beyond Event itself.

Note from the Ruler issuing this event:

It’s your fault this is happening, so you’d better take care of it or die trying. – Ruler of Diligence

Do you wish to participate? You have ten seconds to decide.

Yes / No

I glance at Weslin. He stares back with a shrug, then taps at something in the air. A few seconds later, I do the same. The moment I confirm, a pull drags me away, and I vanish, reappearing in a wide underground hall. At its center rises a massive stone pillar, thick as a tower, with glowing vines spiraling upward.

Around me, people are already gathering and beginning to arrive, one after another. Some I recognize as Primordial Knights by their uniforms. Others belong to other groups, mercenaries, and different guild members. Just as the notice said, all of them are at least A-rank or B-rank, possibly even a few of the same bastards we fought against not so long ago.

“This is going to be a mess,” Weslin mutters beside me, scanning the room.

Then, without warning, a severed finger drops onto the floor in front of us with a soft plop.

I stare at it.

Weslin stares at it.

“Don’t eat it!” I shout to Weslin.

“Motherfucker, I only did that onc…”

Before he can finish, a figure grows out of the finger. A woman, black-haired and beautiful, roughly my height. Her eyes are brown, and one is lighter than the other. Her clothes are casual, comfortable, but well cared for. There is not a single piece of equipment on her body.

Her face lights up in a rare smile, and she opens her arms wide just as I rush forward. I pull her into a hug, feeling a smile climb its way onto my lips.

“I’m not even surprised you’re here, Vic. How the hell did you get caught up in this?”

“It is a long story, but you don’t need to worry. I’ll tell you anything you want to know. For now, let’s head over to the others. Gloria is there, along with someone else I think you’ll want to meet.”

“Sure. Weslin…”

“It’s fine. Just go. I’ll check on the others from the guild and regroup with you later.” Weslin’s voice is calm, but the surprise is clear on his face as his eyes flick from me to Vic and back again.

It’s probably rude not to introduce them right away, but I’m not exactly known for my social skills. Especially when I choose not to be.

I follow Vic through the growing crowd while talking to her. People around us are splitting into groups, forming circles, and scouting the area. She leads me toward a smaller group of about ten. Some I remember from the tournament. My eyes catch on Gloria immediately, she’s wearing an oversized pale yellow shirt with a crying cat printed on it.

But my focus drifts elsewhere, almost without me realizing.

A man stands slightly apart from the others. I estimate his age to be somewhere around forty, though with the stats we’ve been gaining, he could easily be much older. He’s tall, seems well-kept, while his black hair is marked with faintest gray at the temples, and his jaw clean-shaven.

“Is this your brother, Miss Victoria? The resemblance is obvious,” he says politely, his tone calm.

Victoria nods. “This is Nathaniel. Nathaniel, this is Christoph.”

“Hello,” I say, taking his offered hand and shaking it.

“Hello. Chris is fine, no need to be so formal,” he replies with a faint, observant smile.

My eyes have been active since the moment I arrived, and I pick up the faint movements of mana around him. Incredibly delicate, fragile even, and yet it’s been woven into an array of intricate patterns. He smiles, tilts his head slightly, and adjusts his posture just enough that my kinetic senses scream at me, picking up every shift and the gesture.

For a moment in my mind, his figure overlaps with someone else entirely.

He releases my hand and says, “It’s good to see more people from Earth made it to the fourth floor.”

POV Rafael Vaughn, aka Channeler

Jessica finishes her examination of the old cat, who lets her hold him without complaint. Grumpy’s fur is disheveled, and he’s partially blind, his eyes clouded with the layers of white that come with his state. Yet, unfitting to his name, Grumpy lets it all happen. Even as Jessica sets him down, he leans forward and licks her hand a few times in a gesture that looks almost thankful.

Grumpy then turns around, takes a few tired steps, and lies down on a very old, torn blanket before closing his eyes to rest.

“How does it look?” I ask.

“Do you even realize how difficult this will be?” Jessica mutters, “He probably awakened, sure, because he’s in our presence. But he’s old, weak, and fragile. And in case you forgot, he’s a cat, not a human. I know human anatomy far better, and even then, there’s more room for error, especially with attendees and their superhuman bodies. But if I make a mistake here, he’ll die instantly, and it’ll fall on me. Rafael, I don’t want it to fall back on me.”

“I knew healing was difficult. I saw it marked as easy difficulty under capabilities, but I thought it would be simpler for someone from Normal. Especially since you already cleared your thirteenth floor.”

“You, my dear, have been spending too much time around Grumpy. And by Grumpy, I mean Lily fucking Chen. Don’t give me that look. Her real name’s been an open secret for a while.”

“Oh.”

“Yes, oh, and for your information, I’ll do my best. I won’t sleep, I won’t eat, I’ll spend every hour of the day digging through every book on cat anatomy I can find. I’ll pay tens of thousands to contact the best feline vets alive, if I can find any who’ll talk to me. I’ll even call in favors from healers I know and force them to work on it with me.”

“That sounds like a lot of effort, Jessica.”

“Please, don’t act like you didn’t expect that when you called me.”

“I’m sorry. And I hope you won’t be angry if I ask, but what do you expect to get out of this? I have an idea, but you were already hard for me to read before.”

“Are you trying to pick me up? I won’t say no if that’s the case. After I’m done here, you can invite me out on a date. But no pressure. As for expectations…”

Her eyes cloud over a little, and a smile spreads across her face. “I’ve spent some time with Lily. I’ve heard her talk about this cat more than some of my group members ever talked about the children they left here on Earth. If I do this, and she gets out… I have no illusions about my potential of becoming a Champion, or even hitting the higher levels. But if it’s her, she’ll be able to prolong my life quite nicely, I believe.”

“I agree with you there.”

Jessica smiles again. “Just how insane is it? The only thing on Earth that made us all equal, no matter if you were rich, pretty, ugly, talented, or useless. At most, you could squeeze out two, maybe three extra decades, if you had a team of doctors around you at all times. And now, even this, life itself, is about to become currency.”

POV Earth

“Colonel Jonathan Kane, we’ve received information from one of our Returnee contacts.”

“Is it from Codename Channeler?”

“No, this came from a Normal difficulty Returnee assigned as the president’s bodyguard. The notification appeared to him just thirty minutes ago, and I rushed here to deliver it.”

The man in the suit clears his throat and pulls out a tablet, reading from the glowing screen.

Congratulations. Enough attendees have completed their tutorial to move into the next step.

Dungeons will start gradually opening all across Earth, trapping a certain percentage of dangerous awakened animals inside and allowing those who enter the opportunity to gain levels.

Each dungeon can only be cleared once, and their number will continue to grow over time.

No information about dungeon tiers will be provided. Extreme caution is recommended.

POV Nathaniel

I appear inside my mental space, this time manifesting there myself. The place looks like that endless white expanse again, no walls, no floor, no ceiling. The only thing in it with me is a small bed with unmade sheets and a few pillows piled on top.

I walk closer and stop at its side, giving one of the legs a light kick.

A grunting noise comes from underneath.

“Come out,” I call.

“No! I’m hiding!” The voice is young, muffled from under the bed.

“I know what you’re doing. I came because I need you to hide something.”

The noises shift into an annoyed groan. A figure crawls out from beneath, shuffling forward on all fours. It’s a young boy wearing worn-out clothes and a single sock. Around his shoulders, tied loosely at his neck, is a red, bleached-out blanket pretending to be a superhero cape. He stands up and meets my eyes. One is gray, the other light brown.

Sneakythaniel tilts his head, looking at me. He doesn’t say anything, just smiles faintly. His eyes are lively, and there’s that strange, gentle warmth radiating from him, like he’s happy just to exist.

“Where’s your other sock?” I ask.

“It’s been hidden somewhere,” he says.

“Aren’t you supposed to be pretty sneaky yourself? How could you lose one of your socks?”

“How many times did you lose your favorite left sock? No matter how sure you were that you put it into the washing machine, and that it had nowhere else to go. It just disappeared, as if it’d been thrown into a black hole. Aren’t the left socks the sneakiest, most phantasmic things to ever exist if you really think about it?”

“I can’t fight with that logic,” I sigh as I kneel in front of him.

It feels strange to look at him like this, knowing this is how I looked when I was younger. The same bed, the same worn clothes, the same cape tied around my neck.

“You can’t have it,” he says, watching me glance at the cape. “It’s for heroes only.”

“As if I even wanted it.”

“You’re me, of course, you wanted it, no matter how much you try to hide it.” He smiles brightly and pats the top of my head. “We always wanted someone to save our sister and mom, a hero just like in the stories.”

“It’s silly.”

“It is. But wasn’t it a beautiful dream nonetheless?” His smile softens, and then he hugs me. “This hug isn’t from me, it’s from yourself, you know? Because I don’t exist, and it’s just you here. I am you. So I’m hugging you, us, for being crazy enough to create me, who is you, even though the others would just think you were giving yourself a mental illness.”

“Yes, yes.”

He laughs harder. “Now, what do you want to hide from yourself?”

“I want you to hide this information about Christoph until the third tournament, possibly longer. Don’t let me connect the dots or come to that conclusion again.”

Sneakythaniel touches my forehead, eyes serious for a moment as he observes the information and my intention, then he nods once. “Got it!”

I look at him, confused. “You got what?”

“Not telling!”

“Ahhh,” I groan, realizing what must have happened. I must have given him the knowledge of what I just gave him to hide. I want to ask, curiosity starting to torture me, but I know I wouldn’t have made myself do this without a damn good reason.

Sneakythaniel seems amused. With a giggle, he spins in a circle, the red blanket twirling around him, then drops down on all fours and crawls, clumsily, back under the bed, his movements childlike and carefree.

Shaking my head, I stand up and turn to leave. After a few steps, he calls out from behind me. “Hey!”

“What?” I ask, glancing back.

From under the bed, in a space that somehow looks a lot darker than it should, only his head peeks out. Sneakythaniel smiles widely, his eyes shining. “I know it’ll annoy you, so I want to tell you. You’ve already been here before today, and you already had me hide something else from yourself.”

I just wave him off and keep walking, but he keeps laughing. “After you leave, the memory of me existing will get hazy and hard to remember. But don’t worry, I’ll make sure we remember it all and tell you when it’s time. So get stronger!”

As if I needed the reminder. Getting stronger is the only plan I’ve ever had.