Rokie

The voices kept getting closer. I had to think fast. How I wish I could turn invisible. How can I get out of this one? Unlike last time, I doubt running away with the cover of monsters is going to help. Judging by the echoes, there were at least ten of them.

“Okay, think,” I muttered. “Come on, brain. Do something useful.”

Then it hit me. I grabbed a sword from one of my skeletons, yanked it out of its bony grip, and took off running. I made sure to stumble like an amateur and yell loud enough to echo through the tunnels.

“Help! Help!”

My voice cracked halfway through, but that only made it sound more believable. As I bolted down the tunnel, I mentally commanded the skeleton soldiers to chase me. Their heavy footsteps clattered against the concrete.

I met the group halfway. The first one, a tall guy with shock-white hair and a glowing armguard, shouted, “Kid! What’s wrong?”

I pointed behind me, panting, letting panic seep into my voice. “They’re right there! Two of them, came out of nowhere!”

The hunters turned just as my two skeleton soldiers burst from the mist. For a split second, their leader’s eyes widened. Then....chaos.

Blades of light and bursts of fire tore through the air. One hunter dashed forward with a wind-enhanced jump, cleaving through the first skeleton in a single swing. The second tried to counter, but a pyro spell detonated near its ribs, turning it into ash and splinters.

I watched them go down, feeling a strange twinge in my chest. I liked those ones. But this was necessary. A worthy sacrifice for my cover story.

When the dust settled, one of the female hunters jogged over to me, checking for injuries, she was probably a healer. “You okay? That was way too close.”

“Y-yeah,” I panted. “I was just nearby when the sirens went off. I tried to hold the monsters back, figured someone had to delay them before they reached the surface.”

Her expression shifted from concern to mild surprise. “You went in alone?”

“I had to try,” I said, forcing a nervous laugh. “Didn’t get very far though.”

The squad’s leader, the white haired guy, crossed his arms. “You’re either brave or stupid. But either way, you’re lucky we found you.” He glanced at the still-smoking remains of the skeletons. “Never seen anything like those before.”

I shrugged, acting clueless. “Yeah… same here. Creepy as hell.”

Another hunter squinted at me. “Don’t think I’ve seen you around before.”

“Still in training,” I said quickly, holding up the sword I’d stolen or borrowed, technically it's actually mine. “Swordsman. My instructor’s probably gonna kill me for this stunt.”

That got a few chuckles. The tension broke, just a little.

“Alright, rookie,” the leader said. “Stick close. This dungeon’s still active, and the readings are off the charts. We’re waiting for extraction orders, but—”

A loud shriek cut him off. The ground trembled as something huge slammed against the tunnel wall ahead. Dust rained from the ceiling.

“Incoming!” shouted one of the rear guards.

...

..

.

The shriek came again—metal scraping on stone, echoing like a scream inside a furnace.

The white-haired leader’s hand snapped up. “Positions! Ballistic, cover fire!”

The Ballistic, a lean guy with cropped hair and red lenses glowing faintly, lifted his rifle and fired. Three rounds, bright blue, slammed into the tunnel ahead. The Wingcrab burst through the haze, each hit punching a dent into its chitin shell.

“Light it up!” the leader barked.

The Pyromancer obliged. A jet of fire roared from her palm, slamming into the monster’s side. The stench of the burning shell filled the air.

My head was spinning. I could barely hold the sword upright. No mana, no focus, no plan—just survival mode. Everything felt muffled, like I was hearing through water.

The Wingcrab lunged. The Brawler charged to meet it, his fist glowing bright with condensed mana. The hit landed square in its face, cracking the shell and throwing sparks. “Stay down, freak!” he yelled—right before a claw sent him flying into a wall hard enough to leave a dent.

“Akame! Now!” the leader snapped.

The Augmenter, or should I say Akame, planted her feet, energy coursing from her fingertips mana leaving her body and wrapping the others. “Boosting, make it count!”

The swordsman moved first, vanishing into a blur of motion. His blade sliced through the creature’s joints like glass, drawing sparks and fluid. The Pyromancer followed with another burst, while the Ballistic’s shots hammered every weak spot she opened up.

I forced my body to move. My legs barely listened. My grip was slick with sweat. When the creature swung a smaller limb in my direction, I barely managed to deflect it and drove my sword into its side. It didn’t even flinch, but I didn’t stop.

The Brawler came back, blood at his lip, both fists shining like suns. “Clear out!” he shouted, and the others dove aside. His punch landed with a sound like thunder. The Wingcrab exploded into a rain of burning chitin and smoke and some blood.

Silence. For one second.

Then ragged breaths, the smell of cooked meat, a soft curse from the Healer as she started patching the Brawler up. “You’re all idiots,” she muttered, pouring light into his bruises.

I leaned against the wall, pretending to inspect my sword so they wouldn’t see my hands shaking. My heartbeat was in my teeth, my throat.

“Not bad, rookie,” the leader said, his voice a little less cold now. “You held your own.”

“Trying my best,” I managed, hoping he wouldn’t notice how dead my eyes probably looked.

His gaze lingered anyway. “You’re pale. Hurt?”

“Just tired,” I lied. “Didn’t sleep.”

He grunted. “Stay near the Healer. We’ll need every blade if this keeps up.”

As if summoned by his words, the ground trembled again.

From the mist emerged dozens of Wingcrabs. 

The white-haired leader gritted his teeth. “Fall back! All of you! Move to the portal—now!”

No one argued. Even the Brawler, still half-ready to charge, took one look at the swarm and started retreating. The Augmenter was half-dragged by the Healer, her hands still flickering weak gold. The Ballistic fired covering shots, but his aim was shaky now—every recoil echoing off the stone like panic itself.

I tried to follow, but my legs didn’t trust me anymore. My hand slipped; the sword clattered to the ground, echoing like a funeral bell.

It didn’t matter. Nothing I did now would. I just turned and ran.

Behind us, the monsters screamed. The tunnel quaked. Dust rained down like ash.

We burst through the portal in a storm of heat and smoke, stumbling into the night sky of reality. The shift from dungeon air to Earth’s sky hit like whiplash.

Outside, dozens of hunters were already waiting. A perimeter had been set, ranks of armored mages, rifles glowing, air humming with spell tension. When they saw us barreling out, covered in dust and ichor, their expressions changed instantly.

“Hostiles incoming!” someone shouted.

The portal flared behind us, pulsing like a dying heartbeat. Everyone aimed, ready for anything to come through.

Our squad collapsed to the side of the field. The Healer went straight to work, the Brawler coughing blood and laughter in equal measure. The white-haired leader barked something into his comm, voice hoarse. “We’ve got a Tier B outbreak! Close that damn rift before—”

I didn’t hear the rest. My body just moved.

While everyone else caught their breath, I kept walking. Past the squads, past the shouting, past the smell of ozone and fire. My hands were still shaking, but I didn’t stop. I just wanted out, to retreat.

I was almost clear of the group when a voice cut through the chaos.

“Rei?” I froze, who could it be.

I turned.

..---..

*** Hello Nernakai here, thank you for reaching thus far. I hope you've dropped some likes and comments along the way. 

I'd like to mention that a WINGCRAB is actually a Tier D monster. But since it was a swarm of them they became a greater threat. That's why white haired dude said it was a Tier B (his own estimate but approximate nonetheless.)***