Zane sighed. Now that his whole team was finally back together—and there was no crowd pressing in—he turned his full attention back to the Dungeon Cube.

  “Alright,” he said, rolling his shoulders. “Let’s see what the dungeon has to say now that the System’s finished initialising… and there’s already a party inside.”

  The rest of his team nodded. Zane stepped forward and placed his hand on the familiar white panel set into the cube’s surface.

  Ding!

  Dungeon Found

  Name: Unnamed

  (A Guild Master may name this dungeon)

  Level: Unknown

  Type: Training Dungeon

  Highest Level Completed: 5

  Party Members: 1 of 5

  Available Floors:

  Floor 1: Forested Valley (Summer)

  ? One Party Limit — LOCKED*

  Floor 2: Sparse Tundra (Summer)

  ? Three Party Limit

  Floor 3: Humid, Swampy Wetlands (Summer)

  ? Two Party Limit

  Floor 4: Quintessential Beginner’s Village (Summer)

  ? Five Party Limit **

  (One-time access only)

  Floor 5: Skill Selection & Travel Centre

  ? One Party Limit ***

  * Floor is currently occupied. Entry is unavailable until all current delvers exit or perish.

  ** This floor may only be used once.

  *** Skill selection is one-time only. The second function is repeatable and scales to the average party level.

  (A vote for Guild Master is recommended.)

  Zane let out a low whistle. Without removing his hand from the dungeon, he turned slightly and shared the full message with the others.

  Kai was the first to speak. “That is… a lot to unpack from one message.”

  Tarni, meanwhile, was practically vibrating. “Oi—did you see that last line? We need to vote for a Guild Master!”

  The response from the rest of the party was immediate.

  “No.”

  “Nope.”

  “Absolutely not.”

  “Not happening.”

  Tarni clutched his chest, wounded. “What? I didn’t even say we should vote for me.”

  Zane snorted and went to clap Tarni on the shoulder—only to realise his hand was still firmly stuck to the cube.

  “…Right,” he muttered. “That’s inconvenient.”

  After a few more comments about how catastrophic Tarni as Guild Master would be for everyone involved, they refocused on the dungeon information.

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

  Lily was already scribbling furiously in her notebook. “Dad,” she said, glancing up, “it’s not counting Floor Six as completed. Did you actually finish it?”

  Zane thought for a moment. “I met the completion condition,” he said slowly. “Survived until the timer ran out. Barely.”

  Bell frowned at the word barely, arms crossing.

  “But,” Zane continued quickly, “that was before the System changed things. Originally, the ‘leave without completion’ option was locked. Then it wasn't. So the current System probably doesn’t count it.”

  Lily nodded, writing. “That makes sense.”

  She tapped the page with her pen. “What I’m more curious about is this—multiple party limits. Do you think that means we’d be together? Or split into separate instances?”

  Kai rubbed his chin. “There’s a lot we don’t know yet.”

  “True,” Bell said calmly. Then she fixed Zane and Tarni with a look that could stop a charging bull. “But we know more than most. And we’ll learn the rest—if we’re smart about it.”

  Zane wisely chose not to reply.

  Tarni, sensing danger, changed the subject. “I’m still mad about Floor Four. Only one visit? That alchemist bloke was just starting to warm up to me.”

  Zane latched onto the distraction gratefully. “Yeah, that’s rough. I wonder why it’s limited like that.”

  Kai, who had been pacing back and forth, stopped. “Power,” he said. “Or mana. Or whatever resource the System uses. Imagine if everyone just kept looping that floor for a free trip to a completely different world.”

  Lily nodded. “That actually makes a lot of sense.”

  She sighed. “Still sucks goblin balls, though. I wanted to go back too.”

  The group stood there in silence for a moment, staring at the black cube.

  Whatever the dungeon was, it clearly wasn’t finished revealing its secrets.

  ______________________________________________________

  It didn’t take long for Max, Kaitlyn, and Skippy to make their way back to the stilted house. Max practically bounced the whole way, barely able to contain himself, while Skippy stayed pressed close to his leg, ears twitching and eyes constantly scanning for threats.

  The moment they arrived, their parents noticed something was different.

  Max opened his mouth and started talking all at once.

  “Mum, Dad, this is Skippy—well, Skip—and he’s my companion and the system says he’s soul-bonded and he’s a wallaby and—”

  Skippy chose that exact moment to panic.

  He darted fully behind Max, gripping the back of his shirt with surprising strength, peeking out only long enough to decide that this situation was entirely too much.

  The introduction… did not go smoothly.

  Kaitlyn tried to crouch down to get a better look, but Skippy vanished even further behind Max. Liam froze, unsure whether moving might startle the small creature into bolting. Susan, one of the parents who had been talking to Liam and Emma when the two kids and a wallaby had arrived, smiled politely, clearly fascinated but making no sudden movements.

  Emma, however, watched everything in silence.

  After a moment, she clapped her hands twice, softly but decisively.

  “Alright,” she said calmly. “Everyone out. Give us some space.”

  “But—” Kaitlyn started.

  “Out,” Emma repeated, not unkindly.

  Grumbling softly, Kaitlyn, Liam and the others retreated. Kaitlyn gave Max an encouraging wink before following them out, leaving only Emma, Max, and a very tense Skippy inside the house.

  The silence stretched.

  Max swallowed. “I think I scared him.”

  Emma smiled gently and sat down on the floor a few steps away, making herself smaller rather than larger. She didn’t look directly at Skippy, instead focusing her attention on Max.

  “That’s alright,” she said softly. “New places, new people… it’s a lot. You did fine, sweetheart.”

  Skippy peeked out again, watching Emma with cautious eyes.

  Emma reached into her pocket and pulled out a small piece of fruit she’d grabbed earlier, placing it on the floor between them. Then she leaned back slightly, giving Skippy room.

  “No rush,” she murmured. “You come out when you’re ready.”

  Minutes passed.

  Then, slowly, Skippy released Max’s shirt and crept forward. His movements were careful, deliberate. He sniffed the air, then the fruit, then glanced back at Max, who gave him an encouraging nod.

  When Skippy finally picked up the fruit, Emma’s smile softened even further.

  “There you go,” she whispered.

  After a few more moments, Emma shifted just a little closer—not enough to crowd him, just enough to be present. Skippy tensed, but didn’t flee.

  Emma extended one finger.

  “May I?”

  Skippy hesitated… then gave a tiny nod.

  Emma gently rested her hand on his head, giving him a light, careful pat.

  Skippy froze.

  Then, to Max’s amazement, he leaned into it.

  Max felt something warm bloom in his chest as he watched them.

  Emma looked up at him, eyes shining.

  “Well,” she said quietly, “I suppose that makes you part of the family now too.”

  Skippy made a small, pleased sound.

  And for the first time since summing Skippy, Max felt like everything might actually be okay.