The world outside was no longer a city. It was a battlefield, a graveyard, and a furnace all at once. Smoke curled in thick, black tendrils from the burning buildings. The screams of the dying clashed with the sounds of walls splintering, metal shearing, and monsters tearing through anything in their path. The System had not only integrated this world; it had turned it into a crucible. Every living being was either prey or predator.
I crouched atop the remnants of what had once been a three-story apartment, watching through a haze of smoke. Below, humans ran blindly, screaming, stumbling over broken concrete, glass, and corpses. Their blood glistened in the firelight, pooling into gutters, splattering across walls, leaving streaks of red in the thick black smoke. Monsters tore through them with savage precision—horrifying, malformed creatures with long limbs, jagged teeth, and unnatural speed.
The air burned in my lungs. I inhaled anyway, tasting smoke, ash, and the coppery tang of blood. My mind was sharp, my body small, fragile, but deadly in ways that brute strength could never match. Every movement mattered; every second was survival.
I crouched lower, scanning with my new skill. Mana Sense (F). The monsters were easy to sense through the smoke—waves of raw life, chaotic and desperate. They were all bunched in the streets, chasing the screams of terrified humans. I focused on a narrow alley, noting a strange shimmer in the air: a thin, swirling light unlike the others. My eyes narrowed.
Dungeon.
The faint hum of mana rolled against my skin like electricity. I had read about dungeons in theory—traps, monsters, treasures. But this… this was real, here, and now, in the middle of a city ablaze with human death. And I could feel it waiting for me.
I descended carefully, leaping from broken ledge to ledge, avoiding smoke, rubble, and snapping monsters. Two hounds below saw me and lunged. Their claws tore into the concrete and metal, sparks flying, but my Silent Steps allowed me to slide past without alerting them to my exact location. I waited until they fought a larger, grotesque beast emerging from a collapsed wall. Teeth snapped, claws slashed, and blood sprayed the street. Humans were screaming, running in terror, some dying before they even got ten steps.
I moved into the alley, heart calm, hands gripping my knives. My mind worked fast, calculating every angle, every opportunity. The dungeon shimmered in front of me now, an unnatural spiral of blue and silver light suspended in the smoke. A low hum resonated from it. My ears twitched as I sensed the monsters nearby—their movements jerky, instinctive. One sniffed the air. Another pawed at rubble.
I was too small, too fragile to fight them head-on. My eyes darted to the environment. Debris, overturned barrels, twisted metal. Perfect. I set my first trap—a pile of rubble balanced precariously above the alley, connected to a thin rope looped around a broken railing. Then I scattered broken glass across the narrow path leading to the dungeon. Any creature charging through blindly would get shredded.
I crouched behind a wall. My knives gleamed faintly in the firelight. My Mana Sense pulsed, highlighting two approaching Feral Hounds. They sniffed the air, confused by the thick smoke, and stepped directly into my traps. The first hound triggered the rubble trap—the pile fell, pinning it and snapping bones audibly. Its screech cut through the air, high-pitched and full of pain. The second lunged blindly, shredding its paws across the glass, blood spraying in crimson arcs across the alley.
I moved as it thrashed, knives flashing. The first strike punctured its side, deep, precise. The hound yelped and twisted, thrashing, sending more blood onto the walls and rubble. I stabbed again, targeting the soft spots revealed by Predator's Instinct. Its head snapped violently to the side, and then it fell silent.
The alley reeked of smoke, blood, and fear. The air was thick, and my hands, my arms, my small face—covered in blood, both human and monster. I breathed slowly, letting my senses absorb every detail. The screams and chaos outside were no longer a distraction—they were a tool. Movement of humans and monsters alike allowed me to anticipate attacks, to plan, to manipulate.
The dungeon's shimmer beckoned. I approached, mindful of every sound, every shadow. Smoke rolled over my boots, curling around the edge of the blue light. As I reached out, a sudden screech tore through the air—a monster lunged from a hidden corner. Its claws caught me across the arm, tearing flesh, burning pain lancing up my nerves. Blood trickled down my sleeve.
I didn't flinch. I spun, knives slashing, dodging with agility that belied my fragile frame. Precision strikes targeted weak spots, and the monster fell with a sickening crunch. My body was small, my strength low, but my mind had turned every disadvantage into a weapon.
Finally, I stood before the dungeon. The hum of mana grew louder, vibrating against my skin. I could sense everything inside—twisting corridors, traps, monsters. It was dangerous. It was deadly. But it was opportunity. I crouched low, knives ready, senses sharpened, mind racing.
Outside, the city burned. Smoke spiraled into the sky. Human screams echoed through the streets. Fires licked at walls, consuming everything, as monsters tore through the remnants. Blood coated the streets like a macabre river. And I—Tanya von Degurechaff—stood at the threshold of a dungeon, fragile, small, barely a child in body, yet calculating every move like a predator born to survive.
I smiled faintly. This world was cruel. It was chaotic. It was merciless.
Perfect.
I stepped into the dungeon, and the light swallowed me