The inside of the guild could have been any office building, from any vid Heath had ever seen. There were workers, Classed and not, moving in every direction. Some cleaned, some were tapping away at pads to deal with scheduling or other maintenance, others chatted over coffee. Even in the middle of the night, it was bustling. And on every surface was the guild logo, a stylized bronze tree, gleaming under the artificial light.

  Heath and his crew huddled in the entrance. They had shown up an hour before their scheduled delve, as indicated in the sign up paperwork, only to find there was nowhere for them to go. Or there was, but the guild charged an extra fee to use that lounge.

  Just like they charged an extra fee for the in-depth dungeon guide. That had sparked another argument amongst the team. Ekaterina being firmly on the side that using a guide for a rank one dungeon was a waste, and the act of a fool or a coward. The others were united on the side that they would really rather not get injured, and what was wrong with being a bit of a coward if the payout was worth it?

  In the end, Heath had bought the guide and made sure everyone read it. Which he was glad of when he realized the main opponents, a series of creepy-mutant forest creatures, had streaks of skin that would resist most weapons. His [Marksmanship] Skill would be getting a workout. He had also strapped on a piece of piping he’d found in the Loon’s hold. No Skill for blunt weapons didn’t mean it wouldn’t keep him alive.

  He could only imagine the picture they made. One mech suit waiting on a hover dolly they had wedged in the corner. Three spacers in standard coveralls, blinking sleep out of their eyes, and one obvious noble, looking like she stepped out of an adventuring novel, who should have been accompanied by a far more experienced crew. At least that’s what he assumed people saw. The frequent glances from the receptionist could mean anything.

  When it was fifteen minutes before their scheduled entry time, they were led into a staging room, where Copperfield set to the complicated task of donning his armor.

  A rank one Classer in the unflattering beige uniform that appeared to be guild standard-issue delivered instructions in a bored monotone.

  “This is your timer. The dungeon won’t cycle while you’re in there, and we’re on a tight schedule. You miss your exit time and we send someone in after you. At that point, any drops are forfeit as a convenience fee.”

  She handed over a metal disk the size of Heath’s palm. It displayed a countdown of six hours, which he assumed would start on their entry. Which meant not only did they have to get as much loot as they could in that timeframe, but make it back out as well if they wanted to keep anything.

  According to the guide, full clears were rare. Based on what he’d seen so far he had to wonder if the cycling time was set up for the guild to go in and take advantage of any progress they’d made to keep the final rewards for themselves.

  The guild member was still talking and he forced himself to pay attention.

  “-- you have all signed the waiver indicating you understand that the Forest Path Association is not responsible for any injuries incurred inside the dungeon. In addition, 15% of any loot, including monster parts or alchemically-usable plants, is due to the FPA upon exit, for maintenance of these facilities and other dungeon infrastructure.

  I need a verbal response that you all understand these terms before entry.”

  “Agreed,” Heath said, echoed quickly by the others.

  “Great. You can enter when your timer starts.”

  With that the guild member left them to shuffle into the room containing the dungeon entrance. The small station was grav-locked, an expensive bit of enchanting that kept it from moving in relation to a given anchor, in this case the dungeon, which let them keep everything running smoothly.

  It meant the room with the dungeon was well appointed. Sensors of a dozen sorts were spread out around the tear in space, blinking and displaying a dizzying array of information. A few Heath recognized from his years on board the Loon, but more were entirely foreign to him.

  Especially when the dungeon itself drew the eye. It was just… empty. A vaguely gray hole in space, no sound, barely any light. Nothing like the rippling technicolor portals the movies liked to portray. Maybe those were for higher ranks. He’d looked out into the void of space, in areas where not even far-off stars were visible, and that was the closest feeling he had of looking at the dungeon entrance.

  Staring was beginning to give him a headache so he switched focus to the timer, still clutched in his hand. As he stared, it flipped, from 6:00 to 5:59.

  “It’s time.”

  They arranged themselves as they had practiced, Copperfield in front, Ekaterina in the back, the rest in the middle, holding guns with too tight hands.

  Then they walked forward and into the Forest Path.

  *********

  The inside was… a forest path. Absolutely nothing special about it, a mix of trees he couldn’t name, and a path of hard-packed dirt leading the way forward. His nose was assaulted by the scents of pine and decay, and a million others he couldn’t name. It was a heady mix for someone more used to air that had been purified and recycled over and over. In the distance he could see branches, where the path divided and twisted off into different parts of the forest.

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  It was a bit of a letdown. Even knowing what to expect, it seemed like there should be something more obviously magical.

  With a start he realized everyone was waiting on him and brought back on task.

  “Everyone good?”

  He got muttered confirmations. Copperfield agreed with him about the scent being weird, but there were no issues with their entry. A few tweaks set a timer into the corner of his HUD and made sure it would start blinking when their end time was getting close.

  “Forward then, like we practiced. The guide says we’re more likely to find something worthwhile the farther in we make it. Monsters can attack even in the entry so stay sharp.”

  They got fifty yards further in before his words proved prophetic. Out of the woods came a stag, antlers down, charging straight for them. There was no time to plan, only react.

  His pistol came up and Heath shot. He wasn’t alone. The barrage included a fire lance and at least three more phase slugs.

  The monster was twitching on the ground before it could get anywhere close to the group. Heath took one step then froze. The flood of aetherized argo hit him like a freight ship. He felt it flooding his body, invigorating him for a moment before concentrating deep down in his spirit where his Class lived.

  It had been so long he had forgotten the feeling. His uncle had hired a service to bring the monster to them so he could get a Spacer Class, but only once. The rest of his levels had come from normal, non-suicidal method of Class growth.

  He shook himself back to the present. A dungeon was the last place he should get lost in memories of his uncle.

  The others had recovered faster, and were poking at the deer carcass. Except for Copperfield, who’d kept his guard up and was scanning the trees with his mech-blade manifested. Heath was glad to confirm once again that the lackadaisical attitude took a back seat when things heated up for the Swashbuckler.

  Now that it wasn’t charging, Heath could get a better look at their first monster. It looked just like a normal stag. Probably. Not a lot of forest hikes or hunting trips in his life up to this point. The only thing that set it apart was an extra pair of jet black eyes, set further back on the skull. That and the shimmering antlers, which he was mostly confident were not normal.

  “The guide says the antlers are worth something,” Jenny Mae said, “but not sure how to get them off, or how to carry them around.”

  With a loud crack, both antlers fell to the ground, while Ekaterina’s staff lowered alongside. “Done”.

  Heath frowned. “Shouldn’t you be conserving mana? I don’t want to focus too much on the close monsters if there’s better stuff deeper.”

  Their resident noble stood up even straighter, somehow. “My generation rate in the dungeon is sufficient to cover for a simple spell.”

  “Okay. Help me strap one on then.”

  With some awkward wrangling, Heath and Emerald both ended up with one of the antlers strapped to their backs in a way that would hopefully not restrict movement too much.

  A glance at his HUD told him the whole delve thus far had already taken 30 minutes. Way too long if they were going to get anything better.

  “Let’s pick up the pace.”

  “And take turns shooting,” Copperfield added as they resumed their formation. “No need for everyone to empty all at once.”

  It was good advice and they followed it for the next few encounters. Another three of the deer came at them, though none of those had special antlers. After dealing with those they fought one particularly aggressive squirrel, the size of a cat, that bounced around until Jenny Mae’s [Sharpshooter] Skill put it down for good.

  The argo flowed like a river. Heath could feel he was close to his next level already. Though his performance thus far had been disappointing. When it was his turn, he’d missed the deer with three shots, and Copperfield had been required to stab it when it charged close.

  It was humiliating, even if no one called him on it. Afterwards he had hurried them along, not wanting to see the derision on Ekaterina’s face, or the concern on Jenny Mae’s.

  It was at the next fork when they had to stop again to strategize. So far they had taken the route with the best lighting, and the most obvious path. But the guide had been explicit in calling out that the best loot required some risk.

  One one side of the fork was the obvious continuation. On the other, something altogether different. The path narrowed enough they would be almost single file, and the coverage from the treetops was such that the light dimmed, giving the area the appearance of eternal twilight. Ominous rustling completed the scene. Heath was certain that the monsters wouldn’t be so accommodating to come at them one at a time, with plenty of space to react.

  He squared his shoulders and faced the others. He was a Captain and sometimes Captains had to make the risky decision.

  “We need money and levels. I say we go left. Anyone have a problem with that?”

  “Hells no, Cap. Let’s do it!” Copperfield had only gotten more enthusiastic the further along they went.

  With a shrug from Emerald and no opinions from the others, they turned to the darker path.

  In the narrow confines of the woods, Heath unslung his pipe and left his pistol holstered. His [Marksmanship] wasn’t high enough level to be of any use without time to aim.

  A caw was the only warning when the next monster attacked. It swooped down from above, claws extended straight towards Heath. He swung.

  The impact traveled up his arms and into his shoulders, but it worked. The bird, half the size of his torso, slammed into the ground. Another overhead swing earned him that burst of argo that confirmed it was dead. He prodded the carcass with the edge of his pipe. A massive crow with three pairs of eyes, and teeth where he didn’t think birds were supposed to have any. He shivered. If this thing had gotten closer or hadn’t announced its presence, it would have done a lot of damage.

  Per the guide, he ripped out a few tail feathers and shoved them in his bag, before they kept going.

  His initial encounter set the tone for their current path. Every few meters something would jump out. There was no pattern to who got attacked or where the beasts were coming from.

  It was horrible.

  Heath was sure the others would be cursing him to all the hells and back if it wasn’t profitable as well. Each monster they passed was harvestable. He could see the credits stacking up with the different parts carved out and shoved into the harvesting bags (also provided by the guild and also for a price).

  Then everything got much worse.

  All the attacks stopped. At first it was a welcome reprieve. The constant ambushes were grating to his nerves, his head whipping back and forth at every stray sound. But as the yards melted away, a different kind of tension set in. Monsters were aggressive. That was the basis for all dungeon delving. If they weren’t attacking, it meant something deadly was afoot.

  Every minute without an attack only added to Heath’s growing dread. His hands started shaking where they gripped the metal, he had to shake them out to relax the clenching muscles.

  From the front, Copperfield came to a stop, then motioned back. They reversed course until they were well away from their previous position.

  “Something’s up past that last bend,” their Swashbuckler said. “Couldn’t tell what but I’d bet it’s whatever makes this part of the forest so spooky.

  “Should we turn back?” Jenny Mae had been focused and quiet throughout the delve so far. But Heath didn’t detect fear in her voice, just uncertainty at not knowing the proper protocol.

  “Hardly,” Ekaterina scoffed. “This is why we’re here. Harder challenges bring greater rewards. That is a truth of the universe, and the promise of any dungeon.”

  It had the rhythm of something she was repeating, rather than her own thoughts, but it wasn’t wrong. Everyone knew harder monsters were worth more, or guarded treasures they could sell.

  “This dungeon is rated for a group of mid rank-ones. We can handle this.” Copperfield was the most serious, and the most passionate, that Heath had ever heard him.

  It was down to Heath. He looked at the time. Two hours left. They would have to turn back soon to make sure they didn’t forfeit everything they’d earned so far.

  “Here’s the plan.”