Manifestations of Sins spawned from humanity’s moral failings.

The Dungeon Beasts.

I’ve mentioned them before—but there’s something people get wrong.
Everyone thinks they’re sealed away in some ancient ruin, just waiting for a brave idiot with a sword and a hero complex, shouting catchphrases. That’s only half true.

See, at the core of every dungeon, there’s a Boss. Each one is unique with their own special brand of chaos, like some sick joke from a bored god.

It is a well-known fact that once you defeat the Boss, the dungeon collapses.

Only two had ever been destroyed and both times by Callen.

But here’s the fun part: not all Dungeons Beasts are confined to Dungeons. Some slip through the cracks in the seals, rips in the veil, whatever metaphor you want.

The Church calls them “Manifestations of Sin Spawned from Humanity’s Moral failings.” Doesn’t quite roll off the tongue, so we normal people just call them Rovers. And Rovers have one thing that makes them far worse than any beast.

They eat people.

Whether they’re Low-Tier or Apocalypse—once they’re out, they hunt.

That’s why we needed to move. Fast.

Unfortunately, fate had other plans.

Right before we reached the Bronze Gate, a flicker of purple light twisted the air in front of us—like heat through broken glass. My stomach dropped. That aura…
It felt familiar somehow. The wrong kind of familiar, like I had seen it before.

Keiji dropped my pack with a grunt. “What is that?”

“I don’t know,” I said calmly. “It could be a dungeon.”

He blinked. “How do you figure?”

“What else could it be?”

Speaking of, we were too close to this thing.

The air convulsed. A jagged pulse of violet light tore open, shaping itself into a door—no, not a door. A mouth. Gaping. Pulling.

“Move!” I yelled.

But it was too late.

Wind roared like a vacuum, dragging trees, leaves, stones and the corpse we’d carried into the breach. It vanished before we could run.

I clawed at the dirt, my fingers bleeding. My shovel and pack got yanked from my side. Fortunately, Keiji had thrust his sword to the ground—smart bastard—but I was slipping.

“Ash!” he called out. “Hold on!”

I tried. I really tried.

But the sand shifted and gravity betrayed me. I was ripped free.

Spinning.

Weightless….until I landed hard on the ground.

Gravity, two strikes.

I was in pain but I took comfort in the fact that Keiji was safe.

I glanced to my left and saw my shovel and pack. These two had a habit of staying with me, no matter what.

I pushed myself up, dizzy. And took a glance at my surroundings.

This place…

It wasn’t like any dungeon I’d ever seen.

The walls fractured at the touch. Jagged purple glass stretched across the ground, glowing faintly beneath the cracks. Suspended in the air were relics of some dead world—a broken clock tower, rusted ship hulls, human bones… all floating like frozen memories.

The air was too still…

“Ash?!”

I spun around just to see Keiji stumble through the rift and collapsed.

Why was he here? I should ask him…

“You absolute idiot,” I said, grabbing his arm, shaking him. “Why’d you come through? You could’ve escaped!”

He looked up at me, panting dead serious. “I already told you. You’re too important to die.

This idiot. Damn it! I hated how sincere he sounded when he said things like that.

The walls around us…No more like mirrors flexed around—like they were breathing. Reflections shifted, twisted, and reformed. It was like someone was smashing a thousand pieces of glass and stitching them together.

“This is a Moving Dungeon,” I whispered.

Keiji rose beside me, sword drawn but trembling. “And…what makes you think that?”

“The walls.”

“What? Come on, you can’t just say the ‘walls’ and not give me more context.”

“Didn’t Mira sync her system with you or something? That'll be helpful right about now.”

He scratched his head. “She did, but there were like… seven pop-ups, so much lore, and warnings. I couldn’t read all of that in one night, I’m not the Flash.”

“What’s a flash?” I asked as I picked up my shovel and slung my pack over one shoulder.

“It doesn’t matter,’ he said, stepping towards me. “You planning on digging us out?”

“Give me a second to think.”

I pressed a hand to the walls. Instantly, they pulsed—a single, shuddering ripple that ran through the mirrored plates with a sound like glass cracking underwater. The nearest one to my hand peeled open like paper soaked in oil.

I stumbled back as something stepped through.

Tall. Inhumanly slender.

It’s body was wrapped in sliding mirror shards, clicking softly against each other with every motion. Where its face should’ve been was a polished mask that shifted constantly, cycling through different faces—mine and then Keiji’s like it was studying us.

“Well, Ash…” Keiji’s voice trembled behind me. “Had time to think?”

“Yeah.”

“And?”

“We should run.”

I took off.

The corridor split into three identical tunnels. No time to guess—I picked one. Keiji cursed and followed, clanking awkwardly behind me.

“Why are we running?! Why are we running, Ash?!”

Quick tip when you’re stuck in a Moving Dungeon:

One: Avoid dungeon beasts.

Two: If you do run into one; identify it.

Three: If you can’t follow rules one and two? Run!

“Do you even know what that thing is?!” Keiji called after me.

I didn’t answer.

As I was saying, Moving Dungeons occur because of Magna leaking out from… well, somewhere. I’d love to tell you I knew exactly where, but I didn’t. What I did know was this: There was no entry point, no exit. You could run for hours—forever—and never find an end.

We skidded to a halt as the tunnel closed in ahead of us—seamless mirrored walls grinding shut with a sound like metal teeth locking.

Keiji panted. “That… that wasn’t there before.”

“Yeah,” I muttered. “We’re dead.”

And I did not mean that figuratively...