The chamber shimmered as the Naga Warden dissolved, its hiss fading into nothing. A pedestal rose from the stone floor, glowing faintly.

  At its center pulsed a crystal the size of a fist, splitting into three streams of light that circled in the air.

  The dungeon pulsed overhead:

  Reward: Attribute Gem. Party-Wide Effect. Consensus Required.

  They froze.

  “Consensus?” Harlada muttered. “That means we actually have to agree.”

  Bert folded his arms, grinning. “Easy. Strength. Strength makes you strong. Strong wins.”

  “Incorrect,” Leo said immediately, pushing his glasses higher. “Intelligence. Magic, planning, tactics, knowledge — intelligence ensures victory.”

  “Dexterity,” Harlada snapped, sparks popping at her fingertips. “You can’t hit what you can’t catch. Agility saves lives.”

  The three lights hovered overhead, waiting.

  From the shadows came Other Bert’s voice, hard and cold. “You three don’t even understand your own roles, do you?”

  They turned slowly.

  “Listen carefully,” he continued. “A mage without intelligence is useless. That’s her power. A warrior without strength is just a man holding metal. And a rogue without dexterity…” He trailed off, the disgust clear in his tone. “…is pitiful.”

  They stared at him, speechless.

  “Yet here you are,” he went on, “a mage demanding dex, a warrior demanding int, and a scholar demanding strength. You are actively sabotaging yourselves.”

  Leo flushed red. “Statistically, intelligence should be my—”

  “NO,” Other Bert barked. “It should be hers.”

  Harlada bristled. “Excuse me?”

  “Warriors need strength to survive combat,” Other Bert snapped. “You’ve seen it. You’ve died from it. Mages need intelligence to cast anything worth a damn. And rogues—real rogues—live or die by dexterity. This isn’t preference. It’s survival.”

  Silence.

  The three of them glanced at one another, then back at the glowing crystal.

  The dungeon pulsed overhead, text dripping smug:

  Consensus Pending.

  ***

  The gem lights hovered above them, patient, waiting.

  Leo cleared his throat, pushing his glasses up. “Well. If intelligence truly governs magical aptitude… then logically, I should be able to cast spells.”

  He raised his hand, squinted, and shouted: “Fireball!”

  Nothing. Not even a spark.

  Harlada smirked. “Brilliant. Very impressive.”

  Leo’s face went scarlet. “Statistically… a misfire.”

  Harlada folded her arms. “Fine. If dexterity is rogue-work, then I should be able to sneak.”

  She crouched, took a step—her boot scraped so loudly across the stone it echoed like a thunderclap. The crystal above flickered text, smug as always:

  Sneak Attempt Failed. Noise Level: Catastrophic.

  Bert laughed so hard he nearly doubled over. “You call that sneaking? Watch this!”

  He swung his sword in a wide arc, veins bulging. “Cleave!”

  You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

  The blade thunked into the stone floor and stuck there. He yanked, grunting. Nothing.

  They all stood staring at him.

  “…It’s supposed to split in two,” Bert muttered.

  Silence stretched.

  Leo whispered, voice tight. “None of us can do what our stats say we should.”

  Harlada scowled. “So why are we forced into roles we don’t want?”

  Bert scratched his head. “Wait. You mean I’m not actually the warrior?”

  From the shadows came Other Bert’s voice, low and disgusted. “Finally catching on. You’re not warriors. Not mages. Not rogues. You’re… nothing. Tutorial fodder, shoved into borrowed roles you don’t understand.”

  The three stared at each other, confused, unsettled, and suddenly very quiet.

  The crystal pulsed overhead, text dripping with mockery:

  Achievement Unlocked: Existential Crisis. Reward: None.

  ***

  The three of them stood under the hovering gem lights, still unsettled from their failures. For once, nobody shouted.

  Bert rubbed the back of his neck. “Alright. If we can’t fight like real warriors, mages, or rogues… what are we actually bad at?”

  Harlada crossed her arms, sparks flickering faintly from her fingertips. “Strength’s fine. We hit hard enough.”

  “Dexterity works,” Bert argued. “I’m quick enough with a sword.”

  “Intelligence is statistically covered,” Leo muttered, adjusting his glasses with false dignity.

  They fell silent, glancing at each other.

  Then, almost together, they said: “Perception.”

  Memories hit them all at once. The wrong doors. The snake carvings they never noticed. The peephole they nearly missed. The Watcher’s riddle they didn’t even understand.

  Harlada groaned, dragging her hand down her face. “We can’t see anything that isn’t glowing in our faces.”

  Bert nodded solemnly. “I didn’t even notice my armor squeaks until it killed us.”

  Leo winced. “Statistically… our perception is catastrophic.”

  From the shadows came Other Bert’s voice, dry and merciless. “Finally. Self-awareness. Took you four cycles.”

  The crystal pulsed overhead, smug text gleaming:

  Weakness Identified: Perception. Achievement Unlocked: Obvious Blindness.

  They all looked up at the hovering gem.

  “…So we agree?” Leo asked quietly.

  Harlada exhaled. “Yeah. Perception.”

  Bert nodded. “Consensus.”

  The gem lights shimmered, merging into one beam that shot into their chests. Their vision sharpened, colors brightened, shadows deepened. For the first time, the dungeon didn’t look quite so blurred.

  The crystal pulsed once more:

  Reward Applied: +1 Perception (Party-Wide).

  Leo blinked, eyes wide. “Statistically… I can actually see.”

  Harlada smirked. “About time.”

  Bert squinted at his sword, then at Leo. “…Wow. You’re uglier than I thought.”

  From the shadows came a long, suffering groan.

  ***

  The light of the gem faded, and the chamber seemed sharper than ever. Shadows had edges. Colors glowed richer. Even the air shimmered differently.

  Bert blinked, rubbing his eyes. “Whoa. Everything’s… clearer.”

  Harlada smirked. “So that’s what +1 Perception feels like.”

  Leo adjusted his glasses, notebook shaking in his hands. “Statistically… incredible. We can finally see.”

  Then they all froze.

  Because for the first time, they saw him.

  Other Bert.

  He stepped out of the shadows where he’d always been, but now visible at last: half the size of their Bert, his frame sleek and wiry instead of bulky. No overblown muscles, just sharp lines under black leather armor that seemed to drink in the light. Two daggers glinted at his sides, the hilts worn smooth.

  And the face.

  The same square jaw. The same eyes. The same smirk — only leaner, meaner, stripped of bluster.

  It was Bert. Without the bulk. Without the noise. Without the stupidity.

  Harlada’s jaw dropped. “He’s… you. Just… less meat.”

  Bert’s face twisted. “That’s not me. That’s a scrawny imposter.”

  Other Bert twirled a dagger, smirking. “No. I’m you, done properly. Silent. Deadly. Effective.”

  The two Berts locked eyes, mirror and mockery.

  Leo scribbled furiously, his voice trembling. “Statistically… this is the most terrifying encounter yet.”

  The crystal pulsed overhead, smug text blazing:

  Achievement Unlocked: Doppelganger Identified. Progression Pending.