A jail stood before us, its iron bars rusted and bent in places, barely holding together. But that wasn't the part that made my skin crawl.
Right next to it, humming with an eerie, pulsing glow, was a portal.
A portal inside a dungeon.
"Ha! Now that's ironic," I muttered under my breath, though my voice lacked any humor.
Cipher took a shaky step forward, eyes locked on the swirling vortex. "Chat, I don't think that thing is supposed to be here..."
---
[Cipher's Livestream Chat]
— Wtf is that?
— Naaaah, don't touch that.
— Chat, this is how people go missing.
— 🚨 RED FLAG 🚨
— Why does it look like it's breathing??
— Those prisoners look mad sus, why aren't they freaking out??
— 50 kuros says one of them whispers, 'You shouldn't be here.'
— This feels like the start of a creepypasta.
— Anyone else getting SCP vibes?
— Nah but for real, why does that portal look so… alive?
---
I swallowed hard and turned to the prisoners.
A mix of races—humans, elves, dwarves, and even fairies.
Their clothes were tattered, their bodies weak, but none of them looked desperate. None of them screamed for help or rattled the bars in panic.
They just… stared.
Not in fear. Not in hope.
Just waiting.
A shiver ran down my spine. Something about this felt wrong.
It was as if they'd seen this play out before.
As if they knew exactly what was coming next.
Hello—
I barely got a word out before the portal rumbled violently, its swirling mass of energy distorting like something was about to emerge.
A chill ran down my spine.
"Cipher, hide!" I hissed, grabbing his sleeve and pulling him behind a nearby rock.
We crouched low, peeking from behind the jagged stone, waiting—watching.
The portal pulsed one last time before two robed figures stepped through. Their long, tattered cloaks bore eerie, glowing symbols that seemed to shift and writhe like they were alive.
Between them, a girl.
She had fluffy ears, her white hair cascading like silk, starkly contrasting her crimson eyes—cold and lifeless.
One of the robed men gripped her wrist tightly, dragging her forward like a broken doll.
My breath hitched. That robe… that symbol…
"Wait… that looks familiar…" I murmured under my breath.
"That should be it," one of the figures rasped, his voice thick with age and malice.
"This will evolve our Goblin Lord to a higher rank and—"
The robed man with the musky voice paused, as if expecting a response. His hood concealed most of his face, but the faint glint of fanatic devotion shone in his half-hidden eyes.
The air grew heavier.
The other, younger, spoke with fervent conviction. "This will be our first onslaught—our grand emergence! The world will know our Legion and our Great Lord!"
Both raised their hands toward the heavens.
"The dark shadows of freedom will purge this world! Our Lord shall bless us with salvation! His will is absolute! His return is inevitable!"
Then, laughter.
Twisted. Maniacal. Reverberating through the cavern walls like a chorus of the damned.
With one last motion, the portal closed, swallowing them whole.
---
I clenched my fists.
The Dark Hand.
A fanatic cult worshipping the evil god Azazel, obsessed with manifesting him into reality. In the game, they were a nightmare to deal with—their influence stretched far and deep, hidden in the shadows, poisoning governments, infiltrating kingdoms.
But something was wrong.
They weren't supposed to appear yet.
From what I remembered, their first major move was supposed to happen during the Great Exhibition Event.
This… this timeline didn't make sense.
What the hell was going on?
As we stepped out from our hiding spot, still trying to process what we had just witnessed, the faint shuffle of our boots against the stone floor echoed through the chamber.
The girl with white hair and crimson eyes turned her head sharply, her delicate ears twitching at the sound. Her dull, lifeless gaze briefly flickered with something—hope?
"Are you one of them?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, yet laced with fear.
"Nope. Definitely not with those lunatics," Cipher replied casually, hands raised in mock surrender.
For the first time, her expression shifted. Her eyes widened, brimming with desperation. She clutched the rusted bars of her cell, her fingers trembling.
"Please… help me!" she pleaded. "Please, get me out of here! I don't want to go back to that place!"
Now this—this was a normal reaction. Fear. Desperation. A genuine will to escape.
Cipher gave her a reassuring nod. "Relax, we'll figure something out. What's your name?"
The girl hesitated for a moment before speaking, her voice steadier this time.
"Luna. Luna Greyfield."
—Wait. What?
My mind screeched to a halt. Luna Greyfield? That name—why does that sound so damn familiar?
Luna… Luna… Ice Queen Luna?!
The third boss of the game?
What the hell was she doing here?
I was still reeling from the realization when a gruff voice cut in.
"Don't get your hopes up, little girl," a ragged man muttered from the neighboring cell. His face was shadowed, but his piercing eyes held nothing but cold cynicism.
"They'll probably end up like the others," he sneered.
His gaze flickered toward me.
"And you…? You shouldn't be here." His tone was laced with something close to pity. "Find a way out before it's too late."
"Where did you all come from?" I asked, scanning the prisoners' faces.
A heavy silence settled over the chamber. Then, finally, the ragged man from before sighed.
"That is… we don't know," he admitted. "We don't even remember our parents, our friends... even our own names."
My stomach twisted at his words.
"We just woke up and found ourselves locked in this damn place."
Cipher clenched his fists. "That's… that's messed up."
The man shook his head. "You have to leave. There's nothing you can do here."
"But—" Cipher started, but I placed a hand on his shoulder, stopping him.
"Let's go," I said firmly.
The girl—Luna—flinched at my words. But before she could say anything, the man beside her sighed.
"Don't worry, girl," he muttered, eyes dull. "You'll get used to it."
We retraced our steps, back to where the goblins lay charred and smoldering behind the rock wall. Their bodies crackled under the lingering embers of the molotovs flames. The air was thick with the acrid stench of burnt flesh.
We moved forward.
And then—we arrived.
The throne chamber.
Cipher exhaled sharply beside me. "Dude… we could've saved them."
I clenched my jaw. "Don't say that."
"But—"
"We're not heroes, Cipher. We aren't even close. And you already know this place isn't some low-rank dungeon."
Cipher stayed silent.
I turned my attention to the chamber ahead. Massive stone pillars framed the room, torches flickering along the walls. At the center sat a hulking humanoid goblin on a stone throne. His skin was a sickly green, his muscles corded like steel.
To his left, a goblin shaman muttered in low, guttural tones. In front of them, six remaining goblin guards knelt, their spears planted firmly on the ground.
I narrowed my eyes. This was the last obstacle.
The goblin lord spoke in a deep, guttural voice.
"Grishnak! Vrek muk?"
One of the kneeling goblins responded quickly.
"Nagh! Snik-rak, Grot'thar! No vrek! We skagga all uruk, no see!"
"Maybe, Grot'thar, last skulkers know? They no grak back—maybe krush'd!"
—Wait.
I felt my heart skip a beat.
Did I hear that right?
They just said an English word.
I slowly turned to Cipher. "Did they just—?"
Cipher looked just as shaken. "Yeah. Yeah, they did."
I inhaled sharply. "Cipher, can you still fight?"
He stiffened. "Wait—you actually wanna fight that thing?! You're gonna get yourself killed!"
I tightened my grip on my sword. "Do you have any other choice?"
Cipher didn't answer.
He knew I was right.
We would fight. Whether we liked it or not.
I stepped forward, revealing myself at the entrance.
The goblin lord's piercing yellow eyes snapped to mine. He let out a low growl, his lips curling into something between a grin and a snarl.
"Grak! You da skulkers, yah?"
My brow furrowed. "Sorry. Can't understand you."
The goblin lord tilted his head slightly. Then—he raised his palm. A silent command for me to wait.
A moment passed. And then—
"Is this much better, human?"
I felt my breath hitch.
Did he… just speak English?!
Cipher swore under his breath. "Oh, hell no."
"You humans dare to wreak havoc in my territory?"
The goblin lord's voice was a deep, guttural snarl that echoed through the chamber. His sharp, yellow eyes glowed under the dim torchlight, filled with pure, unfiltered malice.
Then, his lips twisted into a cruel grin.
"Guards! Kill them!"
The kneeling goblins snapped to attention. Without hesitation, they let out a war cry and charged.
The ground trembled beneath their thundering steps as six spear-wielding goblins closed in, their weapons gleaming under the flickering flames.
"Cipher, are you ready?" I asked, gripping my sword tighter.
Cipher exhaled sharply beside me. "I don't think I have a choice."
The first goblin lunged.
I barely had time to react before its spear was already hurtling toward my chest—fast, precise, deadly.
I twisted my body to the side, the cold metal grazing past my ribs.
Too close.
I gritted my teeth. If I made one mistake here, I'd actually die.