Scott and his team were riding high.

  They had levelled again, cleared nearly the entire dungeon floor, and the end was finally in sight. There was an energy in the group now—confidence, excitement… something sharper than that.

  Power.

  The only one not caught up in it was Barry.

  He could see it clearly—the way Scott held himself now, the way the others watched him, waited for his word. The System had given them strength, speed, resilience… and it was already starting to change them.

  Going to his head, Barry thought grimly.

  The rest of the old Police Tactical Group followed Scott without question. To be fair, they were trained for this—high-risk, high-stress situations, clear chains of command. It made sense.

  Didn’t mean it was right.

  Barry tried to tell himself he was overthinking it. Tried to fall back into being part of the team.

  Scott made that difficult.

  The shift had started the moment Barry hit level six at the start of the dungeon—then again when he pushed ahead to level seven before the others. It hadn’t been by much, but it had been enough.

  Enough to stand out.

  Enough to be noticed.

  Enough to be a problem.

  They found the last kobold near a fallen log by the creek. It barely had time to react before Maya put it down—quick, efficient, final.

  Ding

  Dungeon Progress: 50/50 Monsters Defeated

  Congratulations! You have finished the First Floor.

  You Get

  50 Silver each

  Silence followed.

  Then Scott stepped forward, already moving on.

  “That’s it. Floor’s clear.”

  He turned, sweeping his gaze across the team, making eye contact with each of them in turn—measuring, confirming.

  “We stick to the plan,” he said. “We exit, grab food, supplies, and proper ranged weapons. Then we regroup at the dungeon entrance in thirty minutes.”

  A chorus of nods followed. No hesitation.

  Hutch was the one who spoke up next, glancing sideways at Barry.

  “Barry, make sure you find a decent pack. Something big—we’re going to need to carry more this time.”

  Barry hesitated for half a second before answering.

  “Yeah… sure.”

  It wasn’t the words—it was the tone. Just enough uncertainty to stand out.

  Just enough for Scott to notice.

  Barry turned away, scanning the treeline, trying not to show how uncomfortable he felt under their attention.

  Behind him, Scott didn’t say a word.

  He didn’t need to.

  He caught Hutch’s eye, then tapped two fingers to his own, before subtly pointing at Barry’s back.

  Watch him.

  Hutch gave the slightest nod.

  Understood.

  Barry never saw it.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  But he felt it anyway.

  And somehow… that was worse.

  ______________________________________________

  Tarni and Lily stood at the edge of the dungeon, the black cube looming behind them like a silent threat.

  The camp had grown.

  What had started as a loose gathering had swollen into something heavier—denser. A crowd. People pressed shoulder to shoulder, drawn by Lily’s explanations, by Tarni’s stories… and by fear.

  The rescue party still hadn’t returned.

  One hundred people had left that morning to search the town.

  None of them were back.

  That absence sat in every chest like a stone.

  The day before, more than a dozen had died—cut down by hobgoblins and goblins as nearly half the town fled toward the safe zone. Now they had food in their stomachs, a few hours of sleep behind them… and time to think.

  That was the real danger.

  Gratitude had been first.

  Tarni. Zane. Their family. The safe zone. Survival.

  But gratitude didn’t last when questions started forming.

  If they knew.

  If they had seen this coming.

  Why hadn’t they done more?

  Why had people died?

  And now—

  Now there was something new.

  A different target.

  A different anger.

  The police.

  A group who, according to what had just been shared, might have cost them all something… before any of them had even understood what was happening.

  The questions came fast.

  Sharp.

  Overlapping.

  Demanding.

  Tarni stood at the centre of it, hands raised, voice steady, using every ounce of charm he had to keep the pressure from tipping over.

  “—we’re going to cover all of that when the rescue team gets back—”

  “—we don’t have all the answers yet—”

  “—I know, I know, just—give us a bit—”

  Beside him, Lily anchored the space in a different way. Where Tarni moved, she held still. Where he deflected, she clarified. Her voice cut cleanly through the noise when needed, calm and precise.

  “Broad explanations only for now,” she said. “We’ll go into full detail together later.”

  That helped.

  So did the unspoken truths.

  Everyone here had seen Tarni fight.

  Had seen how fast he moved.

  How easily he killed.

  And Lily…

  There was something about her magic. The way water moved when she used it. The way hobgoblins had fallen.

  People gave her space without realising they were doing it.

  The second thing keeping the crowd from breaking—

  The children.

  They were everywhere.

  Clustered near the front. Sitting, standing, clinging to parents. From toddlers barely able to understand what was happening to teenagers old enough to feel the weight of it but not old enough to join the System.

  No one wanted to be the one who turned this into something worse in front of them.

  So the crowd held.

  Barely.

  Tarni felt it trying to shift though.

  The edge.

  The questions were getting closer to accusations. The tone tightening, inch by inch.

  So he put everything into getting control of the situation. He was just starting to feel it settle—just starting to pull things back toward something almost resembling a conversation—

  When the dungeon opened.

  The black surface behind them rippled.

  Then parted.

  Silence hit like a dropped curtain.

  Every head turned.

  Staff Sergeant Scott stepped out first.

  His team followed close behind.

  For half a second, no one moved.

  Then the noise came back.

  Louder.

  Sharper.

  Angrier.

  Questions turned into shouts.

  Shouts into accusations.

  The crowd surged—just a step, but enough.

  Tarni moved instantly, stepping forward, one arm out.

  “Easy! Easy—no need to rush—!”

  Lily shifted with him, not raising her voice, but somehow cutting through the chaos anyway.

  “Stay where you are.”

  It wasn’t a command.

  But people listened.

  Not everyone.

  Not fully.

  But enough.

  In the middle of it, one voice rose above the rest—old, cracked, and filled with something raw.

  “Why did you interfere?!”

  The words cut through everything.

  The man stepped forward, shaking, eyes locked on Scott.

  “Now my son-in-law is dead!”

  That landed.

  Hard.

  Scott didn’t flinch.

  But he understood.

  Immediately.

  His team had already reacted—tightening, shifting, instinctively forming up at his back. A combat formation beginning to take shape before most of them even realised they were doing it.

  Scott turned slightly, just enough.

  “Stand down,” he said, low and firm.

  They hesitated.

  Then obeyed.

  The formation loosened.

  Not gone.

  Just… hidden.

  Scott turned back to the crowd.

  To Tarni.

  To the anger.

  And he smiled.

  Calm.

  Measured.

  Controlled.

  Tarni didn’t like that smile.

  “ No need to worry, mates,” Tarni called, trying to keep ahead of it, to keep things from slipping. “We’re all friends here.”

  There was a brief lull.

  Just a moment.

  And Scott stepped into it like he’d been waiting his whole life.

  Years of training.

  Of press conferences.

  Of handling civilians, politicians, media.

  Of standing in front of people who were angry, scared, and looking for someone to blame—

  He took control of the space without raising his voice.

  “I understand you’re upset,” Scott said, projecting just enough to carry. “You’ve all been through a lot.”

  Not defensive.

  Not apologetic.

  Measured.

  “We have too.”

  He let that sit.

  Just long enough.

  Then continued.

  “But if you’re talking about the System event yesterday—about starting levels—then you need to understand something.”

  A pause.

  Eyes on him now.

  Even the angry ones.

  “We didn’t interfere.”

  He shook his head slightly.

  “We acted on the information we had at the time. There was no clear instruction. No guide. No one explaining the consequences.”

  A glance—brief, controlled—toward Tarni and Lily.

  Subtle.

  But deliberate.

  “If someone knew more,” he added, “that information wasn’t shared with us.”

  A ripple moved through the crowd.

  Small. But dangerous. Scott kept going.

  “We made the call we believed would keep people alive.”

  Another pause. Then, softer—

  “And we’re still here doing exactly that.”

  Silence followed. Not calm. Not resolved. But shifting.

  The anger hadn’t gone. It had… moved.

  Tarni felt it.

  Like something slipping out of his grip.

  Beside him, Lily’s gaze sharpened slightly.

  The crowd wasn’t just looking at Scott anymore.

  Some of them, were starting to look at them.