"The Silent Ascension"

he wind carried that sound again—a faint hum, like a voice just out of reach. It wasn't loud, not enough to send me running, but it was persistent, nagging at the edges of my mind. I stood frozen for a moment, staring at the entrance of the Dungeon, its dark mouth yawning wide like it was daring me to step inside.

The smart thing to do would have been to leave. The slums were a harsh teacher, and if there was one lesson it hammered into you, it was this: curiosity gets people killed. But I didn't move. My feet were rooted in place, my eyes fixed on the shadows within.

A part of me—a small, reckless part—wondered if this was what adventurers felt when they stood here. That pull, that promise of something more. I'd never understood it before, the drive to throw yourself into danger for the chance at power. But standing there, with the hum growing louder in my ears, I thought I might be starting to understand.

I shook my head, forcing myself to take a step back. Don't be stupid, Kai.

---

The walk back to the slums felt longer than usual, every step dragging under the weight of my thoughts. That hum, whatever it was, stayed with me. It echoed in my mind like a song I couldn't quite remember the melody to, gnawing at the edges of my concentration. I tried to push it away, but it lingered, a stubborn reminder of what I'd left behind.

The streets of Fort Varen were busier now, the mid-afternoon sun casting harsh light over the chaos of the market. People shoved past each other, bartering, arguing, surviving. I blended into the crowd, invisible as always. No one noticed me, and that was fine. Better to be ignored than noticed for the wrong reasons.

My stomach growled again, louder this time, and I winced. I hadn't eaten since yesterday morning, and whatever scraps I might've found today were now in Bryn's hands. The thought of confronting him again crossed my mind for a fleeting second, but I shoved it down. The last thing I needed was another beating.

Instead, I turned my attention to the edge of the market, where the merchants with the worst goods tended to gather. If you were desperate enough, you could sometimes haggle your way into a meal there. It wouldn't be fresh or clean, but it would be something.

I spotted a stall selling dried fish and approached cautiously, my hands shoved into my pockets to hide how empty they were. The merchant, a wiry old man with a permanent scowl, glanced up as I approached.

"You buying or wasting my time?" he barked.

"Buying," I lied, my voice steady. "How much for one?"

"Two coppers," he said, his tone making it clear there wasn't room for negotiation.

I didn't have two coppers. I didn't even have one. But I nodded anyway, pretending to fumble in my pocket like I was counting coins. My mind raced, searching for a way to distract him long enough to grab something and run. It wasn't a good plan, but it was the only one I had.

Before I could put it into action, a hand clamped down on my shoulder.

"Looking for another beating, Kai?" Bryn's voice was low and mocking, the kind of tone that made your stomach twist before the first punch even landed. I didn't need to turn around to know he was grinning.

I swallowed hard, forcing myself to stay calm. "Just trying to get some food, Bryn."

"Food, huh?" He stepped in front of me, his grin widening as he looked me over. "Looks like you're running low on that too. You should've given me something better yesterday."

"I don't have anything left," I said, my voice quiet. I knew better than to argue with him. It never ended well.

Bryn chuckled, his laugh as cruel as the rest of him. "Maybe you should try the Dungeon, Talentless. You never know, you might actually find something useful in there. Or maybe it'll just eat you. Either way, problem solved."

The words hit harder than I expected, and for a moment, I couldn't think of a response. The Dungeon. The hum. That pull I'd felt standing at its edge. It all came rushing back, louder than ever.

Maybe Bryn was right. Maybe the Dungeon was my only chance.

He shoved me hard, sending me stumbling back into the stall. The merchant yelled something, but I barely heard him. My mind was already somewhere else, back at the edge of the clearing, staring into the darkness.

Bryn's laughter followed me as I walked away, the sound fading into the chaos of the market.

---

That night, I lay on the floor of my shack, staring up at the ceiling. The cracks in the wood formed patterns if you looked at them long enough, shapes and lines that didn't mean anything but were easier to focus on than the emptiness of my stomach.

I couldn't stop thinking about the Dungeon. The way it had called to me. The way it still did, even now. The hum hadn't gone away. If anything, it had grown louder, filling the silence of the night like a whisper in my ear.

I sat up, running a hand through my hair. This was stupid. Insane, even. I wasn't an adventurer. I didn't have a Talent. I didn't have anything.

But maybe… maybe that didn't matter.

Maybe the Dungeon didn't care about Talents. Maybe it would let me prove myself in a different way. Or maybe it would kill me, and Bryn would finally get what he wanted.

Either way, I couldn't ignore it any longer.

I stood, grabbing the threadbare bag I used to carry whatever scraps I managed to find. There wasn't much in it—just a small knife I'd picked up in the market years ago and a few pieces of cloth I used to bandage wounds. It wasn't much, but it would have to do.

The night was quiet as I stepped out into the alley, the moonlight casting pale shadows across the city. The streets were empty, most people having retreated to whatever shelter they could find for the night. I moved quickly, keeping to the edges of the buildings as I made my way toward the outskirts.

The closer I got to the Dungeon, the louder the hum became, until it was all I could hear. It wasn't just a sound anymore—it was a presence, something that wrapped around me like a cold wind, pulling me forward with invisible hands.

By the time I reached the clearing, my hands were shaking. The entrance loomed before me, dark and silent, the shadows inside shifting like they were alive. My chest tightened, fear and anticipation twisting together in a way that made it hard to breathe.

I took a step forward, then another, the hum growing louder with each one.

And then I stopped, standing at the edge of the darkness.

For the first time in my life, I felt like I was standing on the edge of something bigger than myself. Something that could change everything.

Or destroy it.

I took a deep breath, my heart pounding in my chest.

And then I stepped inside.