Chapter 4 Darth Angsty

The Nad Dungeon shimmered in the dim light, an entire structure now suspended in a pocket dimension thanks to the monster cores Alfia had collected. I, Nad, stood proudly at the threshold of my creation, feeling like a mischievous god about to play with a new toy. Alfia tossed me a pouch filled with cores, grinning.

"That's most of them," she said. "Sold the rest for some pretty decent coin."

I caught the pouch and gave it a playful shake. The crystals inside sparkled with raw magical energy. "Perfect. Now, time to level up my insanity."

With a wide sweep of my arms, I absorbed the mana from the cores into the heart of the Nad Dungeon. The walls of our new secret base pulsed and bent, shimmering into existence inside the pocket dimension. What had once been a crude underground shelter now resembled a twisted cathedral carved out of crystal and stone, veins of glowing magic running along the walls like living veins.

Alfia looked around, suitably impressed. "Okay, I'll admit it... this is seriously cool. Also slightly creepy."

"Creepy is just misunderstood cozy," I said, patting the nearest wall, which responded with a low, contented hum. "Anyway, welcome to Nad Dungeon version 2.0 — now with extra weird."

We wandered deeper into the new version of the Dungeon. Every step we took echoed against walls that seemed to breathe with quiet magic.

Alfia gave me a sideways glance. "So, what's the plan? Just healing and farming more monster bits?"

I grinned, rubbing my hands together like an evil genius. "Oh no, my dear Alfia. This place isn't just for healing anymore. It's a gateway — to summon people. And objects. Maybe even an entire space waffle stand if I push hard enough."

She blinked. "A... space waffle stand?"

"I have priorities," I said with great seriousness.

Alfia snorted. "You're impossible."

We entered a wide, open chamber at the heart of the Dungeon. Here, I started drawing an enormous summoning circle with chalk, chanting nonsense words for dramatic effect.

"Ziggity zaggity, hocus and pocus, may the Dungeon give us something absolutely bogus," I intoned with a deep voice.

"You have no idea what you're doing, do you?" Alfia asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Correct!" I said proudly.

Still, the circle blazed to life. Ancient runes spun and danced in the air. The very air tasted electric. I placed a crystal core at the center, and the summoning began.

A swirling vortex opened — a kaleidoscope of stars, galaxies, and bad life decisions — and out of it tumbled...

A boy. No, a young man, about sixteen years old, with disheveled hair, wearing a confused scowl. He landed hard on the ground, groaning.

"Ow," he muttered.

Alfia stepped back instinctively, hand on her sword hilt. "What the hell did you just pull out of the cosmos?"

I knelt down, peering at him. Recognition hit me like a Death Star laser. "Ladies and gentlemen... Anakin Skywalker. Or should I say, Darth Angsty."

Anakin blinked up at me, dazed. "Where... am I?"

He glanced around the crystal-lined chamber, his hand instinctively reaching for a lightsaber that wasn't there.

I clapped him on the back. "Welcome to Orario! Dungeon-crawling, magic-slinging capital of questionable life choices!"

He winced at my enthusiasm. "Last thing I remember... I... I saved my son... I was dying..."

His voice cracked, and for a moment there was real pain in his eyes.

Alfia, ever practical, looked at me sharply. "You sure we want this one?"

"Are you kidding?" I said. "This guy has top-tier angst and a resume that includes single-handedly dismantling a galaxy. He's perfect."

I helped Anakin to his feet. His brown eyes — burdened with far too much grief for someone so young — darted around the room.

"You said Orario?" he asked cautiously. "What... what is this place?"

"A new beginning," I said solemnly. "Also, a place where you can hit things and not get a stern talking-to by some old Jedi council members."

"Is... Obi-Wan here?" Anakin asked, visibly tensing.

"Nope," I said brightly. "Just me, Alfia, and about 10,000 monsters that want to eat you. And maybe a few gods with questionable fashion sense."

He stared at me.

Alfia sighed. "He's not wrong."

Anakin's hand balled into a fist. "Good. I have a lot of anger to work out."

"Excellent!" I said, practically bouncing. "You're gonna fit in perfectly."

Alfia stepped closer, studying Anakin with the air of someone inspecting a secondhand sword. "He looks young. Really young. Is he... dangerous?"

I shrugged. "Well, he was Darth Vader, Lord of the Sith, but right now he's just Anakin, confused and adorable. Like a kicked puppy. With a body count."

Anakin bristled. "I'm not adorable."

"That's exactly what an adorable person would say," I teased.

He glared at me, and for a second I thought he might actually force-choke me. Which would be a hell of an achievement, considering he didn't even have a Falna yet.

Speaking of...

I clapped my hands together. "Alright, next step: time to give you some proper stats. Welcome to the world of Falna, buddy."

Anakin looked puzzled. "Falna?"

"Basically," I said, "it's like a player character sheet, but real. Strength, Agility, Magic, Luck — you level up by killing monsters. Good times!"

"And," Alfia added dryly, "death is permanent."

Anakin paled slightly.

I reached into my bag, pulling out the Falna tattoo kit and a fresh sheet of divine parchment. "Hold still, Darth Cutie."

He growled at me but didn't resist as I inscribed the sigils across his back. There was a flash of light — and boom.

The Falna accepted him.

The room buzzed with quiet magic as Anakin's Falna fully settled in. I handed him a small bronze mirror.

"Congratulations, Skyguy. You're officially Level 1. Adventurer class: emo knight."

Anakin turned the mirror over in his hands, peering at the strange glowing tattoos on his back. His expression quickly soured.

"Level 1," he muttered darkly. "I was a Jedi Knight. I was the Chosen One. Now I'm back at Level 1...?"

He dropped the mirror and slumped down onto a crystal bench, head in his hands, radiating pure teenage despair.

Alfia and I exchanged looks. She shrugged, clearly not trained in dealing with galactic existential crises.

I crouched down in front of Anakin, trying to sound encouraging. "Hey, look on the bright side. You're alive, you're young again... and you don't have to wear a creepy breathing mask anymore. That's a win."

Anakin didn't even crack a smile. "I... lost everything."

There was a heavy silence.

Then — because I'm me — I had an idea. Possibly a terrible one.

"Okay," I said, waving my hands. "What if... hear me out... what if I told you there's a chance you could see Padmé again?"

Anakin's head snapped up, his eyes wild. "Padmé? How?"

I shrugged with a grin. "Same way I summoned you. I could pull her here too. Probably. But there's a tiny catch."

Alfia crossed her arms. "'Tiny,' he says."

I nodded sagely. "You have to reach Level 6 first."

Anakin blinked. "...What the hell is Level 6?"

Alfia stepped forward, adopting her 'serious teacher' voice. "In Danmachi terms, Level 6 is legendary. Heroes that reshape the world, champions capable of soloing armies of monsters. It takes most adventurers decades—if ever—to reach it."

Anakin stared at her. Then stared at me.

"...You want me to grind decades to even hope to see Padmé?"

I gave a big thumbs-up. "Yep! But hey, the leveling system here is super fair. Kill enough monsters, get strong, unlock badass new abilities. Also, there's no Sith Lords trying to mind-control you. Win-win!"

Anakin sat back, thinking. His fingers twitched slightly, a telltale sign of someone itching for action.

"But... all that anger, all that guilt..." His voice was low.

I stood and clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Dude. Channel it. This place? It's literally designed for rage management. You got issues? Go punch a Goliath in the face. Feeling angsty? Beat up a floor boss. It's therapeutic."

Alfia added, dryly, "And if you die, at least it'll be fighting monsters instead of your own son."

Anakin flinched. But then — slowly — he smirked.

"Monsters... I can fight monsters."

I grinned wider. "That's the spirit! Forget slaughtering younglings. Slaughter goblins! Much healthier."

Alfia gave me a very pointed look.

"What?" I said defensively. "He's gotta start somewhere!"

Anakin stood up, fists clenching and unclenching. There was a glimmer of the old Skywalker fire in his eyes. "I'll do it. I'll become strong enough to bring Padmé back."

"And along the way," I said, slinging an arm around his shoulders, "you'll get to blow stuff up, stab things, and probably become the coolest adventurer in all of Orario."

Anakin almost smiled.

Almost.

Then, he ruined it by asking, "Will I get my lightsaber back?"

"Technically... no," I said. "But you do have a new skill!"

I conjured up his newly registered Falna Status screen in front of us:

Name: Anakin Skywalker

Level: 1

Strength: I00

Endurance: I00

Dexterity: I00

Agility: I00

Magic: I00

Skills:

➤ The Force

Description: Allows the wielder to manipulate the world through the invisible energies of Mind and Stamina.

Notes: Can access both Light and Dark aspects of the Force. Mind is expended when using Light Side abilities (healing, precognition, telekinesis), Stamina when using Dark Side abilities (Force choke, lightning, rage-boosts).

Balance required. Overuse of Dark Side will weaken physical stats until balance is restored.

Anakin read it in silence.

"So I can use the Force?" he asked, cautiously hopeful.

"Yup! You just have to manage your Mind and Stamina resources. Think of it like two separate magic bars. Abuse the Dark Side too much, and you'll get stat penalties."

He tilted his head, considering it. "I can work with that."

Alfia muttered under her breath, "I still vote we keep a fire extinguisher nearby."

I pretended not to hear her.

"Alright," I clapped my hands, "next stop: the Guild! We need to register you as an official adventurer."

Anakin looked down at himself, realizing he was still in shredded, tattered robes. "Uh... do I get... clothes?"

I blinked, then grinned. "Of course! First thing we do after the Guild: shopping spree. Jedi robes are so last season."

Anakin actually laughed. A real laugh.

Progress.

We headed toward the Guild hall, with Anakin following slightly behind, looking around like a feral cat tossed into a mall.

Orario's streets buzzed with life: adventurers swaggering with new loot, merchants shouting about fresh supplies, kids chasing each other with wooden swords. It was about as far from Coruscant as you could get.

Anakin stuck close to me, hand twitching at an imaginary lightsaber hilt every time someone brushed past him.

"You're really jumpy for a guy who used to fight entire droid armies," I teased.

He shot me a look. "Those people had discipline. Here? It's chaos."

"Welcome to Orario," I said, sweeping my arm grandly. "Where 'chaos' is our middle name and 'common sense' was stabbed in an alley years ago."

Alfia snorted behind us.

When we reached the towering white marble building of the Guild, Anakin hesitated at the door.

"What if they scan me and realize I'm... not from here?"

I leaned close. "Relax. They barely scan their own paperwork."

We entered. Behind a huge reception desk sat a sleepy-looking elf, wearing the official green uniform of the Guild. She barely glanced up from her paperwork.

"New adventurer?" she asked, sighing like it was the worst news imaginable.

"Yep!" I said brightly, nudging Anakin forward.

She produced a dusty clipboard. "Name?"

"Anakin Skywalker," he said stiffly.

The elf scribbled it down with zero care.

"Race?"

Anakin opened his mouth, paused, glanced at me.

I whispered, "Just say human."

He nodded. "Human."

"Starting Familia?"

I gave her my best divine grin. "Mine. Nad Familia."

She raised an eyebrow, seeing the divine glow behind my eyes, then stamped a seal onto the paper.

"Alright, newbie. Welcome to the chaos pit. Don't die too soon."

She shoved a thin adventurer's license across the desk.

Anakin took it delicately, staring at it like it might explode.

"You're official now!" I declared, clapping him on the back. "Adventurer Skywalker, first of your name, slayer of goblins, destroyer of snack budgets!"

He sighed. Deeply.

"Let's just get me some real clothes before I start Force-choking people."

✨ Shopping Time ✨

We led Anakin into a nearby outfitter, a cozy place run by a cat-person (a chienthrope) named Mira. She had the energy of a caffeinated toddler and instantly zeroed in on Anakin.

"Oh my gods, he's gorgeous!" she squealed. "Such pretty hair! Such tragic backstory vibes! I must dress him!"

Anakin looked horrified.

Mira shoved a pile of outfits into his arms: flowing tunics, rugged adventurer's armor, even a leather coat that screamed mysterious anti-hero.

I, naturally, egged it on.

"Oh oh oh, try the one with the sparkles!" I said, shoving a glittery cloak into the pile.

"No," Anakin said flatly.

Mira pouted. "Party pooper."

Finally, after much grumbling and several threats involving Force-chokes (all joking... probably), Anakin emerged from the dressing room.

He wore black leather pants, a deep blue tunic with silver trim, and lightweight armor plates strapped to his forearms and chest. A long black coat flared dramatically behind him.

He looked, in a word, awesome.

Alfia whistled. "Not bad, Skywalker. Very... intimidating."

I gave him two thumbs up. "Brooding farm boy aesthetic achieved."

Anakin rolled his eyes but didn't protest when Mira flitted around, tightening belts and adjusting the fit.

"Now," I said, tossing a coin pouch onto the counter, "let's get you a basic adventurer's kit: potions, daggers, rations... and maybe a cheap sword until you figure out your Force tricks."

Anakin frowned. "I don't like using swords that aren't... lightsabers."

I gave him a conspiratorial wink. "Don't worry, buddy. First paycheck, we're building you a magic sword. It'll glow and everything."

That earned a genuine chuckle from him.

As we left the shop, fully outfitted, Anakin looked up at the towering Dungeon looming in the distance. He clenched his new gloves tightly.

"This world... it's insane," he said quietly. "But maybe... maybe I can make it mine."

I threw an arm around his shoulders.

"That's the spirit! Now let's go kill some monsters and work off that teenage angst."

He smirked. "I'm going to enjoy this."

Alfia sighed. "I give it two hours before he tries to Force-choke a Minotaur."

I grinned. "And I will be selling tickets."

The first floor of the Dungeon was, frankly, pathetic.

Anakin stood in the center of a clearing, surrounded by goblins barely waist-high to him. He flexed his fingers once — then the air boomed as he hurled the entire group against the walls with an invisible Force push.

Bones cracked. Goblins shrieked. Blood splattered the pristine white Dungeon walls.

Alfia, leaning casually against a pillar, gave a low whistle.

"Level one, huh? I think you broke them faster than most level twos."

Anakin didn't answer. His face was cold, focused — not the brooding angst machine from earlier, but a warrior.

Without a word, he marched deeper.

Floors 2 to 5 blurred by.

Anakin tore through kobolds, imps, and needle rabbits like a hurricane.

At first he used his fists, then a looted short sword when the numbers swelled.

He never hesitated. Never stumbled.

Every kill was fast, efficient... and just a little too brutal.

Alfia scribbled in her notebook.

"Notes: Anakin Skywalker — natural disaster disguised as teenage boy."

At one point, a particularly brave kobold lunged at his back.

Anakin didn't even turn — he simply flicked his hand and snapped the creature's neck mid-air without looking.

Alfia smirked.

"I like him."

By Floor 10, the monsters got bigger.

Lizardmen, killer ants, and huge purple toads lunged from the darkness — and Anakin met them all head-on.

When a giant purple frog tried to swallow him whole, he punched through its skull and kicked the corpse aside like trash.

Blood coated his new armor.

His coat flared dramatically as he advanced.

"He's getting angrier the deeper we go," Alfia observed, amused.

"But not... uncontrolled. Impressive."

When a giant ant nearly pinned him, Anakin let out a low growl, summoned the Force, and crushed it into a ball of chitin with a casual clench of his fist.

He was evolving.

From broody adventurer → to primal force of violence.

And Alfia?

She was loving it.

Floor 16.

It was quiet. Too quiet.

Anakin walked at a steady pace, boots crunching on crystal shards. His breathing was calm now, controlled.

Every step radiated silent fury.

A massive ogre appeared from a side tunnel — a beast easily four times his size.

Anakin raised one hand.

The ogre froze, floating into the air like a giant, confused balloon.

With another flick, Anakin slammed it into the floor hard enough to leave a crater.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

By the fourth slam, the ogre was more jam than monster.

Alfia clapped slowly from her perch above.

"Nice technique," she called down.

"Very artistic. Nine out of ten. Points deducted for lack of style twirl."

Anakin snorted. For the first time that day — he smiled.

Floor 17 — The Goliath Boss Room.

The cavern opened wide like a yawning abyss.

At the far end stood the Goliath — a mountain of red muscle and rage, its roar shaking the very stones.

Anakin rolled his neck.

He didn't wait for it to charge.

He charged first.

The Goliath swung a fist the size of a wagon at him.

Anakin ducked under it and launched himself into the air using a Force-assisted leap.

Mid-flight, he summoned the Force into a tight sphere — and punched downward, driving the sphere into the Goliath's shoulder.

The monster screamed, staggering backward.

Alfia perched safely up high, arms folded, watching intently.

"He's moving like a veteran already," she mused. 

The Goliath recovered and unleashed a stomp attack, sending shockwaves across the floor.

Anakin slid to a halt, focusing.

For a second, his body glowed faintly.

The Force.

A dark pulse.

His speed doubled — and he was suddenly everywhere.

Slashing tendons.

Stabbing between armor plates.

Ducking under massive grabs and retaliating with bone-breaking strikes.

The Goliath roared again, this time... uncertain.

Alfia grinned wickedly.

"That's right, big guy. Welcome to despair."

Finally, after a brutal, bloody clash, Anakin ended it.

He drove his looted sword into the Goliath's knee — climbed up its leg like a wild animal — and exploded its throat with a Force-assisted punch.

The beast gurgled, fell to its knees, and then collapsed entirely.

The floor shook.

Silence.

Then — a small, sarcastic clap from Alfia up above.

"Well done, Skywalker," she called. "Next time, try doing it without looking so angry."

Anakin, panting slightly, turned and gave her a deadpan glare.

She smirked.

"You're learning."

Aftermath: Falna Update

Back at the Nad Dungeon later that night, Anakin lay face-down on a crystal slab while I and Alfia performed his first Falna update.

Light flared from his back, runes dancing.

His stats flashed across my vision:

Anakin Skywalker

Level: 1 → 1

Strength: D485

Endurance: D471

Dexterity: C601

Agility: C598

Magic: D420

Skills: The Force (Upgraded!)

Light Side abilities now slightly strengthen physical stats.

Dark Side abilities now recover Mind slowly during battle.

I let out a low whistle.

"Bro," I said, nudging his shoulder. "You're a damn monster."

Anakin smirked tiredly into the floor.

"Good."

Alfia just chuckled darkly.

"Orario's not ready for you, Skywalker. Not even close."