Pasta sat atop his favourite spot in the manor, high above the ground, where he could look down upon the world like a mighty king. From his lofty perch, he watched the maids sweeping the yard, trimming the flowers, and dodging Aunt Maria, who scurried about. Probably searching for him.
This spot is the best, Pasta thought smugly, catching a passing leaf between his fingers.
"I know you're there," he called, tossing the leaf over his shoulder toward Emilia. It fluttered majestically… and then veered completely off course.
He groaned. "Stupid wind."
"How did you know I was standing here?" Emilia asked, tugging at the hem of her gown, eyes fixed on the floor.
Pasta stood, hands on his hips. "The real question is how did you get up here?"
She pointed toward the open window but refused to meet his gaze.
Pasta grabbed her wrist and pulled her forward, forcing her to sit at the roof's edge. Her body tensed, hands trembling as sweat mixed with tears on her cheeks.
"Don't be scared. I'm here with you." He gave her a reassuring pat on the head. "I am the Mighty Pasta, after all."
Her tears, however, did not stop.
Pasta frowned. Still not convinced?
"Alright then, watch this! I'll prove how strong I am by jumping off and sticking the coolest landing ever!"
He sprang to his feet, ready to leap, only for Emilia to yank him back so hard he nearly faceplanted.
She buried her face in his chest, tiny hands gripping his shirt. "You're funny, Pasta, but, but." She looked up, eyes still wet but now blazing. "You're way too reckless!"
Pasta gasped in mock offence. "Reckless? Me? No, nopedy-nope. I am the Almighty Pasta! I am daring, fearless, and undeterred by foes, even if they were the devil himself! Soon, I'll get an awesome sword, and then I'll be even more unstoppable!"
Emilia watched as the wind tousled his short, dark hair, his grin as wide as the sky itself. He hasn't changed at all, she thought. As if that day—what she saw in that dark room had been nothing more than a bad dream.
"Father said you're always training in the underground base. It's dangerous, you know. Big bats, goblins, evil doctors—"
Pasta waved her off. "Those are just bedtime stories, sis. And if there are monsters down there, I'll just beat 'em up."
Emilia shook her head. "I've seen your scars, brother. You don't have to push yourself so hard. Why not join me in my studies with Father? We could become nobles, and—"
Pasta suddenly stood, his gaze fixed on the horizon where the morning sun bathed the rooftops in golden light.
"Emilia."
"Yes?"
"The reason I train… I mean, really, really train like a lunatic… is because I want to be strong. Strong for her."
Emilia blinked. "Her?"
Pasta turned to her, close enough that their noses nearly touched.
"The general spoke of exhilarating battles. Fights that make your heart pound, that send your blood rushing faster than the rivers in the rainforest we used to play in." He stretched out his arms as if embracing the idea itself. "To fight strong opponents, you've got to be strong yourself, right? And what better way to get strong than to train to the bone? I'll take on the toughest fights, defeat the greatest warriors, and carve my name into history! Because, as they say—the stronger the fighter, the more thrilling the fight!"
His enthusiasm was as blinding as the rising sun.
Emilia responded with a weak punch to his gut. "That's not strength, that's just being reckless!"
She stood up in frustration and immediately slipped.
She let out a short scream as she tumbled backwards, arms flailing.
Pasta caught her just in time, pulling her against him before she could plummet. "Guess we both are reckless. Aren't we Emi?" he said, ruffling her hair as she sniffled. "Your big bro is always here for you."
She buried her face in his chest again, her fingers tightening on his shirt, enjoying the subtle quiet.
#
The Demir of Grandeur stood solemnly on the vast, snow-blanketed plain, its three entrances looming ahead. Above each passage, intricate spiral symbols had been carved into the stone, their meanings lost to time—except to those who did their research.
Jiji had spent days wrangling the necessary documents just to explore this dungeon. Signatures, approvals, more signatures, and then even more approvals. Oh, how she longed for the good old days when all it took to enter a dungeon was guts, not a bureaucratic nightmare. But at least it was finally happening.
Emilia's expensive coat drew a few curious glances from other adventurers, who whispered among themselves. Why was some rich B-rank joining this low-tier errand?
Jiji ignored them, stepping forward to analyze the symbols. "These markings were made by the first people to discover the dungeon." She pointed at the first entrance, where a spiral resembling grass covered in frost was etched above the doorway. "This one represents an ancient beast that once served the elven race before ascending to the heavens. It symbolizes hope, so this path... well, shouldn't be that deadly."
Emilia's boots trembled in excitement at the mention of elves. Her decision was already made.
Jiji moved to the second entrance, where the carving depicted a woman with a bleeding back, cradling a girl with flowing hair. "This one speaks of the horrors this dungeon has inflicted on those who dared to venture within. A reminder that this place holds more than just treasure."
Then she pointed at the third.
It was a plain circle.
"It means, 'Do whatever.'"
"Huh?" Emilia's brow furrowed.
Jiji nodded. "Yep, that's pretty much it I guess. It's a phrase meaning to begin or not, despite knowing the risks that may or may not come with it. So... yeah. Do whatever."
Emilia stared at it. "…Why does that sound oddly familiar?"
"What's wrong?" Jiji asked.
"Do whatever? That's seriously what it means?"
"Precisely." Jiji clapped her hands. "So go wild."
As the adventurers began forming their own groups, Jiji raised her hand. "Nope. I'm doing the groupings."
A few groans and complaints arose, but she ignored them. She had already memorised their adventurer IDs and considered the dungeon's layout. She knew which entrance best suited whom.
Her eyes landed on Emilia. "You. Emilia, right?"
"Yes?"
"If you had to pick, which entrance would you take?"
The question caught Emilia off guard. The elf path, obviously! But for some reason, the words stuck in her throat. Why was she hesitating? Her eyes drifted to the third entrance. That phrase still felt wrong.
"I... I pick—"
"The third." Jiji turned her back to Emilia with a casual wave.
"What?! Then why ask me to choose?!" Emilia's face flushed with frustration.
Jiji glanced over her shoulder with a smirk. "I just wanted to know. That's not a crime, right?"
Emilia's face burned even brighter.
"You'll be paired with Mr. Swordsman, Kabal, Spaghetti, and the guy with the gun."
"IT'S PASTA, YOU BRAT!" he roared.
Shot chuckled, holding back a furious Pasta. "The guy with the gun… Nice one, Jiji."
Jiji sighed. "I did mention that one path is way more dangerous than the others. That's the third entrance. You four are the best fighters, and Emilia seems intelligent I think so obviously, you're taking the job. And since I'm not an idiot, I'm adding an extra person. Can't be too careful."
Emilia looked at the little girl. She saw the same child she herself once was—one who loved studying everything and anything. But there was one thing Jiji had that little Emilia never did. And for some reason, she felt like she still hadn't found it.
Meanwhile, Kabal stood beside Mr. Swordsman, arms crossed, his axe shifting slightly on his back. "Your energy is exponential," he said, grinning. "To think we'll have an S-rank on our team."
Mr. Swordsman nodded. "Thanks."
"Pleasure to be working with you."
"Same," Mr. Swordsman replied with a smirk. It had been a long time since he'd set foot in a dungeon. Not since the days he travelled with Bloodborne. The memory was painful but also strangely enjoyable.
He glanced at Pasta, who was still struggling to break free from Shot's grip, yelling about teaching Jiji a lesson, while she sat on the snow completely unbothered. Emilia tried her best to hold him back as well.
Mr. Swordsman chuckled.
He was glad they were on the same team.
Their destination was getting closer. His job, all of it—was coming to an end.
But for now…
He'd keep those thoughts buried, keep his gift suppressed.
And enjoy this feeling just a bit longer.
#
The dungeon was pitch black, save for the occasional gleam of tiny red eyes skittering through the dark. Rats scurried over scattered skulls, their little claws clicking against the stone.
A flickering glow cut through the gloom—Kabal's torch, casting jagged shadows along the damp walls as he led the group forward.
Mr. Swordsman exhaled, turning back to glare at the very obvious problem in their ranks.
"Can someone please explain why we have a child in a dangerous dungeon?"
Jiji, comfortably perched on his back, pumped a tiny fist into the air. "How could I possibly leave such perilous work to you all? As your employer, it is only right that I endanger myself alongside you. Besides—" she tapped her cheek smugly. "I have Shot as my personal bodyguard."
Shot, who had been peacefully minding his own business snapped his head up, blinking. "Wait, what? Since when am I—?" He turned to the group for confirmation, then back to himself, as if he might have missed something.
"…So, I get paid extra for this, right?"
"No."
Shot sighed. "Why am I not surprised?"
Mr. Swordsman cast a wary glance at Jiji. "Then why isn't he the one carrying you?"
Jiji grinned. "Because I want you to do it. Simple, really."
"...Do your parents know about this?"
"Nope."
Mr. Swordsman dropped his head in resignation. Figures. Any kid would be thrilled at the idea of venturing into a dungeon. Then again, when he turned back, he saw the same unmistakable excitement reflected in Emilia, Shot, and Pasta's eyes. Scratch that, anyone would be thrilled. Even he couldn't deny the rush of it. The eerie carvings along the stone walls, the subtle shift in the air, the way the darkness seemed to breathe around them, it all pointed to one thing.
If his instincts were right, they were nearing the heart of this domain. A place where human logic unravelled and the impossible became reality.
Dungeons have always been a subject of legend and history. Whether they were once temples, tombs, or ruins, their very essence had been twisted by the unstable energies that coursed through them. Anything could happen within these walls—space could warp, time could shatter, and long-lost horrors could awaken from their slumber. Most dungeons had been plundered during the last war, their treasures and artifacts stolen away, but a few still remained. And this one… this one held something far more dangerous than mere relics.
Jiji, meanwhile, was gleefully kicking his side, demanding that he move faster. He was starting to grow numb to it—well, mostly. It was still incredibly annoying.
The dungeon's structure branched into three paths, each leading toward the final floor but through entirely different routes. The kid must have done her homework to figure that out, and not only that, she had deliberately chosen the best group to venture with. All to satisfy her endless curiosity.
Mr Swordsman gave a soft smile. For this little adventure, he has met a rather interesting set of people so far.
Still, he furrowed his brow. I wonder how powerful is the dungeon boss.
At the front, Kabal tightened his grip on his axe, his gaze sharp as he guided them deeper into the abyss. He understood the risks, they all did. The monsters here weren't like those on the surface. These were creatures that had long since gone extinct, only to be preserved in this forsaken place. But that wasn't even the worst part.
They could return. No matter how many times they were cut down, they would rise again, as long as the dungeon itself remained.
The only way to end them for good was to slay the dragon that lurked in the depths below.
They marched for what felt like hours. Though in truth, it had only been minutes, until they arrived before a massive set of doors. Towering and ancient, its surface was adorned with intricate carvings, whispers of a forgotten era etched in stone. Without a word, Kabal tossed his torch to the ground, plunging them into near-total darkness.
"Hey! What the hell was that for?!" Shot barked.
Kabal ignored him, stepping forward and pressing both hands against the doors. The ancient hinges groaned in protest as the heavy stone slabs parted, revealing a dimly lit corridor stretching beyond. Torches lined the walls, their flames swaying unnaturally as if breathing.
Pasta felt it immediately. A dark, suffocating energy that clung to the air like a poisonous fog.
Is this what fuels monsters? He mused, his gaze fixed on the eternal flames. That would explain why they're already burning…
"This energy…" Mr. Swordsman murmured, narrowing his eyes.
Kabal nodded. "Three of them," he said. "They'll sense the foreign presence from our torch. If we let them strike first, we're dead."
With that, he slung his axe onto his back. "And we can't let them near Jiji."
Shot exhaled slowly, lighting a cigar as he stepped toward the rear. "Yeah, I'll pass on the front lines. You guys go ahead."
The moment the words left his mouth, the ceiling above them shattered.
Three goblins crashed down from the darkness, shrieking as they lunged.
Kabal roared, seizing one by the face and crushing its jaw with a sickening crunch. Blood sprayed across the stone floor as the creature's body convulsed in his grip before falling limp.
The second goblin barely had time to react before Pasta's blade gleamed in the dim light, slicing clean through its neck. Its head tumbled to the ground, rolling to a stop near Emilia's feet.
The last goblin, seeing its companions fall, darted past them in a frantic bid for survival, only to set its sights on Mr. Swordsman. With a shriek, it leapt, dagger raised high, its wild eyes locked onto the swordsman's throat.
Neither he nor Jiji flinched.
A gunshot rang out as Mr Swordsman moved his head slightly for the bullet to pass.
The goblin's head exploded mid-air, its lifeless corpse crashing onto the cold stone.
Smoke curled from the barrel of Shot's gun as he lazily blew at it. "Heh. Headshot."
Emilia remained frozen, her hand still gripping her sword's hilt, but she hadn't even drawn it. It had all happened so fast. The speed, the precision. She could barely process it.
Her eyes went to the walls where they flickered with interest.
Kabal wiped the blood from his hands, frowning. "Ancient creatures, clinging to life… don't they realize their time has long passed?" He flexed his fingers. "Didn't even have to use my weapon."
"You didn't do anything, Mr. Swordsman," Jiji huffed, tugging on his ear.
"That's because you're on my back," he replied flatly.
"No excuses!"
Mr. Swordsman only chuckled.
Jiji's gaze darted toward Emilia next. "And you! You just stood there! What am I paying you all for?"
But Emilia wasn't listening. Her fingers traced the cryptic carvings along the walls, her eyes shimmering with quiet excitement.
"What's a dungeon without a little mystery?" she whispered.
She tried to piece together the meaning behind the symbols. These weren't just decorations, they held purpose. Deciphering them would normally require the best scholars in the kingdom, but… she smiled to herself. I guess I'll have to do for now.
She pulled a small knife from her pocket, carefully tracing the engravings to make out the faded text.
Dungeons like this weren't simply born from nothing. They weren't man-made, yet they didn't just appear without reason either. Something or some event had shaped them into existence.
Her fingers froze as she reached a section of text.
Four figures, one draped in sorrow, one guarding the elves, one choosing their fate, and one… a dragon lurking below.
Her heart pounded as she slowly pieced together the words beneath them.
"Not of this world."
An explosion echoed through the halls.
Pasta clutched his stomach. "Damn. Was that me?"
Emilia turned, exasperated.
"Hey, Emi, you got breakfast?"
She didn't even bother to glance at him.
Kabal's expression darkened as he turned toward the corridor ahead. "No… that wasn't you. Someone's fighting up ahead. But I don't sense them. Only monsters."
Jiji's eyes widened. "There shouldn't be anyone else here! The board gave me their word."
She suddenly gritted her teeth. "Tch. Hurry up, everyone! Someone's stealing my ores!"
They reached the end of the hallway, only to be met with a sight that stole the breath from their lungs.
A vast chamber stretched before them, its size beyond comprehension. At its centre stood a massive circular platform, upheld by towering pillars that seemed to pierce the heavens, vanishing into a veil of swirling clouds.
Mr. Swordsman narrowed his eyes. As expected, the space defied human logic. The very fabric of reality had been twisted. Yet it wasn't the skyward expanse that held Emilia and the others captive, it was the ground below.
A blood-soaked battlefield. Lifeless monsters, their bodies shredded into unrecognizable remnants, lay strewn across the stone like discarded scraps of parchment.
A whisper drifted through the silence. "Hehe, wasn't expecting company."
From amidst the carnage, a figure adjusted her hat, her voice carrying a playful lilt.
Lily.
Before anyone could react, she moved, and then in what felt like a second, she stood before Mr. Swordsman, lifting her face toward his.
His hand met her lips before she could do anything her crazy mind had conjured up.
She pouted, stepping back. "You're no fun."
Mr. Swordsman exhaled. "Didn't expect to see you this early."
Lily sighed. "You wouldn't believe what these things tried to do to me. Just thinking about it makes my skin crawl."
She returned her blade to its sheath, brushing nonexistent dust from her cloak. Then, with a bright smile, she turned to the others. "Oh? I didn't notice you all there. Name's Lily. Nice to meet you."
Kabal eyed the carnage with disbelief. "You took down all these monsters?"
Her eyes gleamed, proud and unbothered. "Yep."
Shot took a slow drag from his cigar, exhaling in amusement. "A disciple, huh? Rare to see your kind around. Guess the rumours about your strength weren't exaggerated."
Emilia and Pasta, still trying to process what they were seeing, exchanged glances. It wasn't just the overwhelming destruction, it was the absurdity of finding Lily here, of all places.
Jiji slid off Mr. Swordsman's back, frowning. "Shot has a point. What's a disciple doing in a place like this?"
Lily's hand drifted to her sword hilt but relaxed just as quickly. "Been getting that question a lot lately," she mused before bending forward slightly.
Then, with zero hesitation, she reached out and ruffled Jiji's hair. "But aren't you a little cutie? So… what's your gift?"
Pasta and Emilia nearly choked.
DID SHE JUST ASK THAT JUST LIKE THAT?!
Shot snorted. "Save your curiosity, lady. She's not one to share. Probably embarrassed since it's not meant for combat."
He leaned lazily against one of the pillars, failing to notice it glowing faintly beneath his touch.
Jiji, unfazed, swatted Lily's hand away. "Why should I be embarrassed? Just because my gift isn't for battle doesn't make it any less valuable. If anything, I'm relieved I don't have to fight."
Mr. Swordsman, growing impatient, stepped forward. "You still haven't answered. Why are you here, Lily?"
Lily twirled a strand of her hair, then laughed. "Oh, you see—I came in for a nap."
Silence.
Jiji blinked. "...What?"
"Well, it was freezing outside," Lily said, raising a finger. "And then I saw this dungeon, all warm and cosy, so I did what any sensible person would do. I went in and settled down."
She shook her head. "Wouldn't you know it? These monsters suddenly show up and start trying to cut me up. Honestly, I figured if I ignored them, they'd go away. Guess I was wrong."
The group collectively blinked.
Pasta leaned toward Emilia. "Is she really a disciple?" he whispered.
Emilia could only shrug.
Mr. Swordsman, however, wasn't surprised in the slightest. He had known Lily for too long. Her reckless ideas never worked—but she tested them anyway.
Jiji sighed, shifting her gaze to the path ahead. "Looks like we've hit a dead end."
She had studied these halls extensively. And yet, there was no record of how to proceed.
Selfish scholars, hoarding all the good information. If I ever meet them, they'll know my wrath.
Noticing the others waiting for her response, she straightened her posture. "Lily, was it? Since you're acquainted with Mr. Swordsman, I'll consider you an ally as well. Though… you don't seem particularly invested in these halls."
Lily grinned, twirling on her heel. "Oh? Flattery?"
Before Jiji could respond, a strange sound reverberated through the chamber.
A chill swept through the air.
Then...darkness enveloped them.
A pulse of energy rippled through the room.
And in the next instant, They were back.
Standing before the enormous doors where they had started.
Shot's cigar nearly fell from his lips. "What the? Did we just… go backwards?"
Pasta groaned, rubbing his temples. "What happened—"
CRASH!
Three goblins burst through the ceiling.
Kabal, moving on pure instinct, swung his axe. A single sweep, crossing the three before they hit the floor.
"What the hell is going on?!" he demanded.
But Emilia wasn't listening.
She pressed her hands against the wall, her fingers tracing over the carvings that had been there before—yet now were gone.
Her eyes widened.
She turned back to the others, voice hushed with realisation.
"We weren't teleported back guys," she whispered, tuning to them. "I think… we just went back in time."