By evening, Dawnview was unrecognizable. The streets were a claustrophobic maze of torchlight and shouting. The same stones Riley had walked that morning were now buried under hundreds of players, all of them vibrating with a mix of pre-game jitters and sleep-deprived aggression. It looked less like a village and more like a riot waiting to happen.
Tomorrow at sunrise, the gates to the first dungeon would open. And every single person in this square was trying to buy their way into a victory they hadn't earned yet.
Riley moved through the press of bodies, Luna tucked securely in the crook of his arm while Lumi sat on his shoulder, looking down at the crowds like a king surveying a particularly messy peasant revolt. Kalyani, Jonathan, and Rezion hovered in his shadow, using Hayes as a human shield. They looked like they were waiting for the other shoe to drop—for Riley to realize they were "dead weight" and cut them loose before the real work started.
Aria didn't miss it. She let out a snort that could have been heard over a dragon's roar. "Relax, kiddos. We're not dumping you just because some level-eight sweatlord walks by."
Kalyani looked at her boots, her cheeks flushing. "We just... didn't want to assume. Everyone else said we weren't good enough to even stand in the queue."
"Bench you?" Aria gasped, clutching her chest. "Do you see Dot? Does she look like a spider who permits betrayal?" Dot clicked her legs against Aria's shoulder in what could only be described as a tiny, multi-legged threat.
"You're with us," Riley said, his voice quiet but final. "No questions, no conditions. We stay together."
The square was a chorus of desperation. Players were standing on crates, waving bags of coin, screaming for healers or specific elemental spirits. A trio of Level 7s in gold-trimmed gear cut through the crowd, stopping right in front of Riley. The leader didn't even look at the kids; he went straight for Riley, offering a deal where they'd take the spirit cores and materials in exchange for "carrying" the group.
"Think about it," the boy urged, his voice oily. "You won't clear with these three. They're liabilities."
"We said no," Riley repeated. He didn't raise his voice, but the coldness in it made the leader blink and retreat into the crowd.
Riley turned to the kids. The training had paid off, and their screens now gleamed with the skills they'd need to survive. Kalyani's Fire Cat had unlocked Ember Dash, a flaming charge perfect for clearing the dungeon's poison spores. Jonathan's Tiger Cub now had Savage Swipe, a heavy shred that would melt the boss's physical armor. Finally, Rezion's Ice Husky had gained Frost Wave, providing the crucial crowd control they'd need for the final enrage phase.
"Preparedness," Riley said, answering Hayes' silent look of impressed paranoia.
Leaving the team to finish their supply run, Riley headed to the alchemy lodge. Inside, the air was thick with the smell of burnt sugar and ozone. Kipp looked like he'd been through a war, his hair standing on end and his apron covered in mysterious green soot. Thirty vials of Mirage Draught sat on the counter, shimmering with an unnatural, wavering light.
Riley didn't hesitate. He pushed every last coin he had—seventy silver—across the counter. "Buy ingredients. Everything you can find," Riley told him. "Tomorrow, when I message you, put these on the auction for ten silver each."
Kipp dropped his stirring rod. "Ten silver? That's not a price, Riley. That's a hostage situation."
Riley just smirked. "Trust me."
By the time the team regrouped at the central fountain, they were officially broke. Their bags were stuffed with anti-venom, bandages, and stamina pills. They didn't have the flashiest gear, but they had a plan. Aria stretched, her joints popping as she declared them "broke, prepped, and traumatized."
"Log off," Riley commanded, looking at each of them. "Get some real sleep. Tomorrow, we take the first clear."
As the team began to vanish into the logout screens, Riley stayed for one last moment. The village was still screaming, still fighting over scraps. He looked at Luna, then up at the dark silhouette of the dungeon mountain in the distance.
As the last of his team shimmered into pixels and vanished, Riley didn't follow them immediately. Instead, he walked toward the edge of the village where the torchlight grew thin and the noise of the market became a dull, rhythmic thrum. He leaned against a weathered stone fence, the night air of the game world tasting like damp pine and ancient dust.
Luna stirred in his arms, her scales cool against his skin. She let out a soft, melodic trill, her eyes reflecting the distant, jagged silhouette of the Dread-Root Peaks. Somewhere in the heart of those mountains sat the entrance to the Gnarled Hollow—the first hurdle that had broken so many spirits in the life he remembered.
Back then, Riley had been one of the desperate faces in the crowd, begging for a spot on a "meta" team just to see the first boss. He'd watched from the sidelines as players like Andy Lendrim claimed the glory, the loot, and the future. He remembered the crushing weight of being average.
But tonight, the weight was different. It was the weight of seven other people—especially those three kids—who were betting their entire game experience on his memory.
He opened his menu one last time, the blue light of the UI washing over his tired face. He scrolled past his empty gold pouch and focused on the map. He knew every trap in that first corridor. He knew the exact frame the boss would wind up its overhead smash. He knew that at exactly 40% health, the room would fill with a choking miasma that would kill every team currently buying "prestige" in the plaza.
Except his. Because they had the Mirage Draughts. And they had the Ember Dash.
"It's not just a game this time," he whispered to the empty air.
Lumi chirped from his head, a tiny spark of light in the dark, reminding him that he wasn't alone. He looked back at the village. The lanterns were still flickering, the desperate auctions still raging, but for the first time, Riley didn't feel like a spectator. He was the architect.
He closed his eyes, felt the hum of the server through his boots, and finally hit the 'Log Out' button. The world of Dawnview collapsed into a single point of light, leaving him in the silent, dark reality of his room, where the only sound was his own steady breathing and the ticking of a clock.
Day Seven was only a few hours away.