I woke up in the usual place. Metal table. Single hanging lamp. Endless dark swallowing the edges of the room.

  Jeff stood across from me, hands folded neatly behind his back, posture perfect as always.

  “Let’s skip the small talk, okay?” I said, pushing back my chair and standing. I didn’t even look at him. “I’m good. You’re weird. The System’s creepy. Let’s move on.”

  “As you wish,” Jeff replied smoothly, like I’d just ordered room service.

  The lamp flickered once. The floor trembled beneath my feet, right on schedule. I rolled my shoulders, feeling the stat increases settle in. More mana. More durability. More control.

  Floor Three.

  “Anything I should know?” I asked.

  Jeff tilted his head. “I thought you were good.”

  I narrowed my eyes, “whatever.”

  The shaking intensified. Cracks of darkness opened beneath the floor, widening into empty void. Just before I dropped, I lifted my hand and gave Jeff the middle finger he’d earned sometime around Floor One.

  “See you later, asshole.”

  Jeff blinked once. “Language.”

  The floor vanished.

  Cold air swallowed me. I fell. Wind tore past my ears as the darkness above shrank into a pinprick. For a second I felt weightless, caught between worlds, then gravity remembered me.

  I braced.

  Impact.

  I landed steady, boots pressed into packed dirt. No prison cell. No hallway. No library.

  I opened my eyes and immediately knew this floor was different.

  The sky wasn’t stone. It was open. Gray clouds churned overhead, thick and restless, like they were waiting for something to happen. Wind swept across a wide field of tall, dead grass stretching as far as I could see. The air smelled sharp and metallic, like the moment before a storm, but heavier and quieter.

  Too quiet.

  No guards. No growls. No obvious monsters. Just an endless expanse.

  A notification appeared.

  Floor 3

  Objective: Defend the Town

  Secret Objective: Unknown

  Time Remaining: 23h 59m 58s

  No escape condition. No puzzle. No maze.

  I turned slowly.

  Behind me stood a village. Wooden walls reinforced with crude iron bands. Watchtowers at each corner. Torches already lit despite the dull daylight. The gates, massive and reinforced, loomed a few steps behind me.

  Another notification popped up.

  First Wave In: 00:59:59

  I watched the timer tick down.

  00:59:58

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  00:59:57

  A full hour of preparation.

  “So,” I muttered, tightening my grip on my bat, “we’re doing tower defense now.”

  The wind picked up. The tall grass beyond the walls rippled like something underneath was breathing.

  Behind me, I heard movement. Voices. Footsteps. The heavy creak of wood under tension. I glanced over my shoulder.

  Villagers. Men and women rushing along the inner walls. Some carried spears, others bows. A few just had farming tools clutched in white-knuckled grips. They looked terrified, and none of them looked like they could survive what was coming without help.

  The timer ticked down to 00:58:41.

  I rolled my shoulders. Sixty MP. New skill. New gloves. New floor. I cracked my neck.

  “Alright,” I said under my breath. “If this floor needs a defender…”

  I stepped toward the gate.

  “…it got one. Let’s go, Lexi. Let’s see what this town has to offer.”

  Lexi flipped back into book form beside me and scribbled in bold letters:

  “LET’S GO.”

  We headed toward the front gate. The closer we got, the more details popped out. The wooden palisade wasn’t new; some planks were splintered, others darkened with old stains. Dried mud clung to the lower beams. Fresh repairs sat over older ones.

  This town had defended itself before.

  “Hello!” I called up toward the wall. “Name’s Mike. Here to help with the upcoming monster wave!”

  Lexi’s words scratched across the page in smaller text:

  “SUBTLE.”

  “Why would I be subtle?” I muttered. “I’m here to help.”

  “SURE,” she wrote.

  I swear I could feel her roll her metaphorical eyes.

  A helmeted figure stepped up on the other side of the gate, peering down through the slats. “Mike, you say?”

  “Yes. Mike,” I replied, a little annoyed having to repeat myself.

  “We don’t know any Mikes,” the guard said. “How do we know we can trust you?”

  “TOLD YOU,” Lexi wrote.

  “Shut up,” I murmured to her.

  More faces appeared along the wall. Spears angled down. Bows half-drawn. These weren’t NPCs standing on idle animation, waiting for a dialogue prompt. They were scared. Were they aware this was a dungeon too?

  “Look,” I said, raising my hands slightly so they could see I wasn’t attacking. “I’m here to help defend the town. If I’m lying, you can kick me out. Pretty sure you all outnumber me.”

  Silence. Wind rattled the beams overhead.

  The timer ticked in the corner of my vision. 00:55:12. The timer weighing down on me. I didn't have time for this.

  Finally, the gates groaned open. Two armored guards stepped out, chainmail over leather, shields scuffed from real use, not decoration. One studied me carefully. My clothes were clearly out of place compared to their gear, but the soldiers didn’t seem to care.

  “You’ll meet the commander,” he said. “If he says you stay, you stay.”

  “Sounds fair,” I replied.

  They motioned for me to follow. As we stepped inside, the gates slammed shut behind us with a heavy thud.

  The village was larger than it had looked from the outside. Dirt roads crisscrossed between wooden homes. Smoke curled from chimneys. Children were being rushed indoors. Villagers carried crates of arrows and buckets of water toward the walls. Organized chaos.

  I leaned closer to Lexi. “Told you it would work.”

  She flipped to a blank page and wrote:

  “GIVE IT A MINUTE.”

  I narrowed my eyes at her, but didn’t have a good comeback.

  Instead, I glanced up at the wall from inside. The palisade looked thinner here. Less heroic, more desperate. Boots thudded along the ramparts. Nervous voices carried on the wind. I heard the scrape of arrows being counted, over and over.

  In the distance, beyond the walls, something moved. Not clear shapes yet, just shifting shadows along the horizon. Too many to count.

  A breeze rolled through the street, bringing the smell of smoke, sweat, and something sharp and metallic underneath it.

  Fear.

  We walked for several minutes through the town. Villagers hurried past us, stealing glances. Some looked hopeful, others suspicious, a few just exhausted. A blacksmith hammered furiously at a glowing blade, sparks jumping into the air. A woman shoved a bucket into a teenager’s hands and pointed him toward the well. Two older men dragged a cart piled with spears toward the inner wall.

  Nobody stopped to ask who I was. They didn’t have time.

  Eventually, we reached a tall stone tower rising above the wooden structures. Unlike the houses, it looked old and solid, reinforced with iron bands and narrow windows meant for archers.

  “Here,” one of the guards said, gesturing at the heavy door at its base. “Follow us inside.”

  The door creaked open. Cool air spilled out, carrying the scent of oil and damp stone.

  I tightened my grip on my bat and stepped forward.