“This can’t be right.”

  The voice cut through the glowing air like a blade. Lukas blinked as reality snapped into place — marble floors, vaulted ceilings, priests in golden robes. A summoning circle behind him still hummed with light, magic crackling in the air like static.

  Lukas stood at the center of it all, heart pounding like a war drum.

  He’d been summoned. This was real. Another world. A new start.

  The man on the throne — the king, clearly — furrowed his brow.

  King: “...Are you sure this is the one?”

  One of the priests stepped forward, looking nervous as hell beneath his layers of silk.

  Priest: “He meets the summoning conditions, Your Majesty. Pulled from Earth… spiritual resonance was within range...”

  The king’s expression didn’t change.

  King: “But look at him.”

  Lukas stood in his school uniform — white shirt wrinkled, tie crooked, sneakers still wet from the rain back home. His hair clung to his forehead. He felt like a stray someone accidentally let into a royal ball.

  Lukas: “Um… hi?”

  The king raised a hand sharply.

  King: “No aura. No divine light. He reeks of failure.”

  He sighed, already bored.

  King: “Dispose of him.”

  Lukas: “Wait, what?”

  King: “Throw him in the dungeon. Maybe he’ll be useful as monster bait.”

  Lukas stared at him. That didn’t sound like a metaphor.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  Lukas: “Hold on. Are you serious? I just got here!”

  King: “Remove him.”

  Two knights in gleaming armor approached with synchronized footsteps. Lukas barely had time to react before they grabbed him.

  Lukas: “You didn’t even let me talk! Isn’t there, like, a test? A scroll? Some glowing sword or something?!”

  Knight (gruffly): “You weren’t supposed to talk.”

  Knight (colder): “You were supposed to shine.”

  The massive doors slammed shut behind him.

  As Lukas was dragged away, the circle behind him lit up again — already preparing another summoning.

  As if Lukas had never even arrived.

  The stairs wound downward, deep beneath the castle. The air grew hotter, wetter, heavier. Lukas’s feet scraped against moss-covered stone, his shoulder aching from where the knight had shoved him.

  Eventually, the guards stopped at a giant metal gate.

  They opened it, pushed Lukas in, and slammed it shut behind him.

  Clang.

  Lukas stared into the darkness.

  Not a prison.

  A dungeon.

  Not the medieval jail kind. The RPG kind.

  Twisting corridors. Cracked pillars. Carved runes along the floor. Faint torchlight flickered over broken stone, and deep, distant growls echoed from somewhere far below.

  Lukas: “...Oh, this is just great.”

  Lukas wandered, hand brushing against the walls. Every breath tasted like mildew and rust. There were no signs, no guidance, no floating UI windows telling him where to go.

  Eventually, he found a partially collapsed room. A corpse sat in the corner, half-buried in rubble. Bones broken. Ribcage shattered inward.

  Next to it — a dagger.

  Rusty. Bloody. Still sharp on one edge.

  Lukas crouched beside it, then slowly reached out.

  Lukas: “Sorry, man.”

  He took the weapon.

  The hiss came from behind him.

  Lukas turned — a creature was crawling out of the dark. About the size of a dog, but too fast, too smooth. Its skin looked half-melted, bones peeking through. Blue eyes glowed like dying embers.

  It lunged.

  Lukas barely got the dagger up in time. The claws tore through his shirt, slashing across his ribs. Pain lit him up.

  Lukas: “Shit!”

  He hit the floor hard, vision spinning. The monster snarled, baring teeth that didn’t belong on any natural thing.

  Lukas rolled to the side as it lunged again, caught it by the throat mid-air, and slammed it against the stone.

  Again.

  And again.

  Then he stabbed.

  Once. Twice. Three times.

  The creature went still.

  Lukas dropped the dagger. It clattered against the ground, slick with blood.

  He collapsed next to it, chest rising and falling in panicked gasps. Sweat burned his eyes. His fingers wouldn’t stop shaking.

  Lukas: “I’m gonna die down here.”

  The words came out hoarse, half-laugh, half-prayer.

  Lukas: “Alone. In some dungeon. Because a bunch of assholes didn’t like my face.”

  He laughed again. It echoed. Too loud in the silence.

  No system.

  No powers.

  No backup.

  Just Lukas.

  And a dungeon that wanted him dead.