Chapter 4

The next morning, every joint in my body whispered complaints as I tugged on a pair of old yoga leggings and scrolled the latest "player" forums. The city was a roiling pot of chaos, or at least the slice of it visible through my living room window: sirens, helicopters, the whole shabang. Outside, humanity was obsessed with the calamity unfolding: dungeons erupting into existence like zits on prom night, monsters rampaging (but, so far, in manageable numbers), and the sudden democratization of superpowers. Inside, I was oddly excited for the first time in years.

I hovered on the player registry website with my cursor, which I had just signed up for, then switched tabs to the "Dungeon Delvers" subforum. I needed to find a team that wouldn't get me killed. Or a mentor. Maybe both. 

Now, I know I said I'd never even consider entering one, but the idea is kind of growing on me. Or maybe the money is. Definitely the money.

Some of these Player profiles read like parody. "Bladeknight666, Lvl 3, Dual-Wielder, seeking party, must supply own rations and stuff." A few posts down, "EroticSorceress" was recruiting muscle for her co-ed 'exploration society,' promising 'serious XP, and weekend tantra workshops.' I snorted coffee out of my nose at that one.

Ten more minutes of lurking, and I'd built a short list of credible options. No psychos, no incels, ideally no one who recognized me from the telekinesis porn economy. 

I took a selfie in the blandest hoodie I owned, uploaded my "Player card" per site requirements, and posted a Looking For Party thread:

"First-timer, Rare Class, looking for chill group to try entry-level dungeon. Not a min-maxxer, just trying not to die. DM stats/class for more info."

Thirty seconds later, my inbox choked on the number of replies.

I skimmed. "Hey Zoey, saw your site, how about you film a collab-" (No.) "My mom says girls shouldn't do dungeons. Prove her wrong with me?" (Lol.) "Saw your telekinesis videos! I'm a Psychic Warrior (Uncommon), and we could make a KILLER combo. BTW, do you have a boyfriend?" (Hard pass.)

"Hey there, beautiful. I'm actually not a Player yet, but I have $50k saved up. Looking to buy a skill book. Maybe we could make a deal? I can pay in OTHER ways too ;)" (Delete.)

"MY CLASS IS BERSERKER (UNCOMMON) AND I CAN PROTECT YOU WITH MY MIGHTY MUSCLES. I AM LEVEL 3 AND HAVE KILLED 45 MONSTERS. MY BICEPS ARE 18 INCHES." (All caps? Really?)

I groaned, slamming my laptop shut. This was hopeless. Everyone either wanted to fuck me, use me, or mansplain dungeoneering to me. I reached for my coffee mug, lifting it telekinetically to practice my control. The mug wobbled slightly but remained stable as I guided it to my lips.

My phone buzzed with another notification. Probably another creep. I almost ignored it, but curiosity got the better of me.

The message was refreshingly straightforward: "Telekinetic Scribe. Rare class. Interesting. We're running F-rank dungeons daily. Three-person team looking for additional support. Split is 90/10 on skill books, we keep attribute stones. Meet at Greenstone Park entrance, 3pm today if interested. - Reid, Prime Vanguard (Epic)."

I checked his attached player card. Reid, level 4, with five successful dungeon clears. His profile picture showed a serious-faced man with short black hair and the build of someone who could actually survive in a fight. No flirty comments, no sexual innuendo, just business. And him having an epic class just sounded great!

I bit my lip, considering. This was exactly what I needed: experienced players who knew what they were doing. The 90/10 split wasn't great, but I wasn't in a position to negotiate. Besides, I wasn't after skill books; I wanted experience and levels.

"I'll be there," I typed back. "Zoey, Telekinetic Scribe (Rare), Level 1. No dungeon experience, but quick learner. What should I bring?"

His reply came minutes later: "Comfortable clothes, water, protein bars. Whatever weapons you need with your class. Don't be late."

Well, that was succinct. I checked the time - 11:47 AM. Plenty of time to prepare.

I spent the next hour researching F-rank dungeons on player forums, learning what little information was available. Apparently, they consisted mostly of weak monsters like oversized rats, aggressive coyotes, and venomous snakes with enhanced abilities. Nothing too fantastical yet. Maybe just a pissed off mother nature. The forums mentioned that the new, higher-ranked dungeons contained more bizarre creatures, really similar to those found in fantasy games.

"I can handle some big rats," I muttered, scrolling through amateur footage of a dungeon clear. The video showed a group fighting what looked like a wolf the size of a small pony, its eyes glowing a weird yellow. Another clip featured a swarm of spiders, each the size of a dinner plate, their mandibles clicking as they scuttled across stone floors.

My stomach lurched. Okay, maybe not so manageable after all.

I changed into my most practical outfit: black leggings, sports bra, and a fitted t-shirt. I laced up my running shoes, the only athletic footwear I owned, and packed a small backpack with water bottles and protein bars as instructed.

"Weapons," I whispered, glancing around my apartment. What exactly did a Telekinetic Scribe use as a weapon? I hadn't thought about that.

After some consideration, I grabbed a kitchen knife and slipped it into a makeshift sheath (a folded dish towel secured with rubber bands). Better than nothing. I also packed a heavy metal flashlight that could double as a bludgeoning tool in an emergency.

At 2:30, I headed out to meet my new dungeon party. The streets were busier than usual, with people hurrying in all directions. Some openly carried weapons like baseball bats, crowbars, and even the occasional sword that suspiciously resembled a cosplay prop.

Greenstone Park had transformed. The once-peaceful green space now had a massive, luminescent stone structure at its center, towering nearly twenty feet high. A small crowd had gathered around it: some were gawking, while others were clearly organized into teams, preparing to enter.

I spotted Reid immediately. He stood apart from the crowd, arms crossed over his broad chest as he spoke with two others: a sexy blonde woman and a lanky guy with glasses who appeared even more out of place than I felt.

"Um, hi," I said, approaching cautiously. "I'm Zoey. We messaged earlier?"

Reid turned, his expression unchanging as he assessed me from head to toe. "You're on time. Good."

"Zoey, meet the team." Reid gestured toward the blonde. "This is Selene."

The woman turned, her piercing green eyes scanning me with obvious disdain. With her hair pulled back in a tight ponytail and her athletic figure showcased in form-fitting tactical gear, she looked like she'd stepped out of a military recruitment poster... If they featured supermodels.

"So this is the telekinetic you found online?" Selene's voice dripped with sarcasm. "Looks like she'd snap in half if a monster breathed on her." She flicked her golden hair over her shoulder and smirked. "At least she showed up on time, unlike some people."

I immediately felt my cheeks flush hot. Great, not only was she gorgeous, but she was also a complete bitch. And apparently, Reid's girlfriend based on how she possessively placed her hand on his arm.

"Don't mind Selene," the lanky guy piped up, adjusting his glasses, which had slid down his nose. "She's rude to everyone at first. I'm Ethan, by the way. Arcane Artificer, Rare class." He extended his hand with an eager smile that made him look younger than he probably was. "I create magical gadgets and stuff. It's super cool when it works. Less cool when it doesn't."

I shook his hand, immediately warming to his dorky enthusiasm. "Nice to meet you."

"Did you bring a weapon?" Reid asked, interrupting our introduction.

"Um, sort of." I patted my backpack. "I have a knife and a heavy flashlight. But I'm mainly relying on my telekinesis."

Selene snorted. "A kitchen knife? Are you planning to make the monsters a sandwich before they eat you?"

"Selene," Reid said, his tone a warning. She rolled her eyes but fell silent.

Ethan rummaged through a messenger bag covered in anime pins. "Actually, I might have something that could help." He pulled out what looked like a metal baton about a foot long. "It's an amplifier rod. Should boost telekinetic abilities by about 20%. I was working on it for another client, but they bailed when they realized they couldn't afford something of this caliber."

"Is it safe?" I asked, eyeing the device skeptically.

"Define 'safe,'" Ethan replied with a nervous laugh. "It hasn't killed anyone yet!"

"We don't have time for your experiments, Ethan," Selene snapped. "The entrance window opens in five minutes, and I'm not missing it because you want to play mad scientist with the newbie."

"It's not an experiment," Ethan protested. "It's been field-tested! Well, lab-tested. Well, I tested it once and nothing caught fire."

Reid sighed deeply, the sound of a man who'd heard this type of exchange many times before. "Zoey, here's how this works. We enter as a group and clear the dungeon floor by floor. I'm point. I take the brunt of damage and attention from monsters. Selene steps forward, twirling a wicked curved blade that seems to appear from nowhere. "I handle the actual killing," she says with a cunty smirk. "Reid draws them in, I slice them up. Simple."

"And I provide support!" Ethan chimes in, holding up what looks like a steampunk wristwatch. "Buffs, debuffs, occasional explosions!"

Reid nods, his expression still serious. "We've cleared five F-rank dungeons so far. They're manageable if you follow instructions and don't panic." He gives me a pointed look. "We don't actually need another person. The dungeon scales difficulty with party size, but Selene wanted to try something new with her attack patterns."

"What he means," Selene interjects, flipping her blade casually, "is that you're expendable. Extra hands, extra eyes, maybe a distraction for the monsters. Don't expect special treatment just because you're new."

I swallow hard, fighting the urge to turn around and go home. "I understand. I'm here to learn and help however I can."

"Good," Reid checks his watch. "Two minutes until the entrance window. Everyone ready?"

Ethan hands me the metal baton despite Selene's eye roll. "Just channel your telekinesis through it. Should give you better range and control."

I take it hesitantly, surprised by how it seems to hum against my palm. "Thanks."

Reid leads us toward the glowing stone structure. As we approach, I can see it's covered in strange symbols that shift and change like living things. The center pulses with green light, calling us forward.

"Remember," Reid says over his shoulder, "we touch the stone together on my mark. If you're not synchronized, you'll enter alone, and trust me, you don't want that."

The crowd parts for our group, whispers following behind us. I catch fragments of conversation: "That's Reid's team," and "Five successful clears already," and "Is that the telekinetic girl from the videos?"

Oh, did I forget to mention that my video had gone worldwide? I'm still getting checks from it.

I duck my head, hoping no one recognizes me from my online activities. The last thing I need is for my new teammates to discover my side hustle.

We form a semicircle around one face of the stone. Up close, it's even more intimidating, towering over us like a monolith from another world. The green light pulses faster, almost like a heartbeat.

"On three," Reid commands. "One... two... three!"

We all press our palms against the stone at the same time. The surface feels oddly warm and slightly yielding, like pressing into firm clay. For a moment, nothing happens.

Then the world dissolves around me.

My stomach lurches as if I'm falling, colors swirling and blending until I can't tell up from down. The sensation lasts only seconds before my feet hit solid ground again, and I stumble forward, barely catching myself.

"First-timer, huh?" Ethan says sympathetically, steadying me with a hand on my elbow. "The transition gets easier."

I blink rapidly, taking in our new surroundings. We're in what appears to be a stone corridor lit by strange blue flames in wall sconces. The air is cool and damp, with an earthy smell like a cave. The walls are rough-hewn stone, with occasional patches of luminescent moss providing additional light.

"Welcome to your first dungeon," Reid says, his voice echoing slightly in the confined space. "Stay alert. Follow my lead. Don't wander off."