The air in the locker room hung thick with the scent of stale sweat and cheap deodorant. I fumbled with the combination lock, my fingers clumsy and slow. The cacophony of shouts and slamming metal doors echoed around me, a jarring symphony that did little to soothe the knot in my stomach. First day. First real test. And my uncle's smiling, unnerving face flashed in my mind. *Don't embarrass the family, Karan.* Easy for him to say. He wasn't the one about to walk into a dungeon with strangers who probably thought I was a complete idiot.
I finally wrestled the lock open, the metallic click feeling like a gunshot in the sudden, brief lull. Inside, my uniform lay neatly folded. Standard issue, charcoal gray with the Jaipur Academy crest on the breast pocket. It felt stiff, unfamiliar. I pulled it on, the fabric scraping against my skin. Looking in the cracked mirror, I saw a face that was perfectly ordinary. Brown hair, average features, eyes that were a nondescript shade of hazel. I could blend in. That was the goal. Blend in, don't stand out. Especially not here.
My uncle, a high-ranking member of the Academy's faculty, had made it abundantly clear that my presence here was a privilege, not a right. And that privilege came with expectations. Expectations I was desperately trying to meet without revealing the truth of my own… potential. It was a tightrope walk, and I felt like I was already starting to wobble.
I zipped up my locker, taking a deep breath. Time to face the music. Or, in this case, the dungeon.
The designated meeting point was a large, circular chamber off the main training hall. A holographic projection of a crumbling stone structure flickered in the center, depicting a stylized dungeon map. Around it, students milled, forming small groups. Some were boisterous, others quiet and focused. I scanned the faces, trying to gauge the atmosphere. Most seemed eager, a few nervous. I recognized some from my introductory classes, faces I'd deliberately kept at arm's length.
A gruff voice cut through the chatter. "Alright, newbies! Gather 'round!"
A burly instructor, his uniform adorned with more insignia than I could count, stood near the projection. His face was a roadmap of old scars. He clapped his hands together, the sound sharp and commanding.
"Welcome to your first practical. Today, you'll be running the Crumbling Crypt. Standard beginner's dungeon. Nothing too fancy, but don't get cocky. Plenty of fresh meat gets chewed up in there." He gestured to the holographic map. "This is a Tier 1 experience. Focus on coordination, communication, and basic threat assessment. Don't be a liability."
He then proceeded to call out names, forming squads. My name was called surprisingly early. "Karan Sharma, Priya Singh, Rohan Kapoor, and Anya Sharma. Your squad."
My heart did a little skip. Anya Sharma. My uncle's daughter. My cousin. The one person I absolutely had to avoid scrutiny from. A cold dread settled in my gut. This was not good.
We were directed to a waiting area, a sterile room with benches. Anya was already there, her expression cool and appraising. She was everything I wasn't – confident, poised, and radiating an aura of effortless competence. Her dark hair was pulled back in a severe braid, and her eyes, a sharp, intelligent brown, swept over me with a barely perceptible flicker of something I couldn't quite decipher. Disappointment? Annoyance?
"Karan," she acknowledged, her voice polite but distant. "Fancy seeing you here."
"Anya," I managed, forcing a smile that felt brittle. "Small world."
Priya Singh joined us next. She was shorter than Anya, with bright, inquisitive eyes and a nervous energy that seemed to vibrate around her. She offered a shy smile. "Hi, I'm Priya. Looking forward to this."
Finally, Rohan Kapoor arrived. He was tall, with a swagger that spoke of overconfidence. His gaze lingered on Anya, and then flicked dismissively over me. He wore his Academy uniform with an air of casual arrogance, as if it were a designer label.
"Rohan," he introduced himself, not bothering to extend a hand. His eyes met mine for a fleeting moment, and I felt a prickle of something akin to disdain. He clearly thought he was better than us. And, judging by his demeanor, he probably thought he was better than everyone.
The instructor reappeared. "Alright, Squad 7. Your objective is simple: clear the first three levels of the Crumbling Crypt. Retrieve the glowing shard from the final chamber. Report back to me. Any questions?"
Silence. We were all too new, too intimidated, to ask anything that might sound foolish.
"Good. Follow me."
We were led through a shimmering portal, the air crackling with energy. One moment we were in the sterile academy building, the next we were standing at the mouth of a dark, damp cave. The air here was colder, carrying the faint, metallic tang of something ancient and unsettling. Torches flickered along the rough-hewn walls, casting long, dancing shadows.
"Standard dungeon entry protocol," the instructor said, his voice echoing slightly. "Anya, you're the designated leader. Rohan, you're point. Priya, you're support. Karan, you're rear guard. Stick together. Don't wander off. And for the love of the Guild, try not to die." He gave us a final, stern look before melting back through the portal, leaving us alone in the oppressive silence.
Anya nodded, her gaze already fixed on the path ahead. "Alright, let's move. Rohan, take point. Priya, stay close behind him. Karan, you watch our backs. No straying."
Rohan, the picture of bravado, drew a short sword from his belt. It glinted in the torchlight. "Don't worry, I'll clear the path." He stepped forward, his movements fluid and practiced.
Priya clutched a small, leather-bound book to her chest, her knuckles white. Her eyes darted around nervously. I saw her lips move silently, as if reciting something. She was likely a scholar type, her strengths lying in knowledge rather than combat.
I drew my own weapon. It was a simple, steel short sword, heavier than I'd expected. I hadn't practiced with it much. My training had been… unconventional. And hidden. I gripped it tightly, trying to project an air of competence I didn't quite feel. My role as rear guard was the least visible, the easiest to hide in. Good.
We moved deeper into the Crypt. The torchlight barely penetrated the gloom. Water dripped from the ceiling, forming small puddles on the uneven floor. The walls were slick with moss and something that looked suspiciously like dried blood. The silence was broken only by the crunch of our boots and the occasional skittering sound from the darkness.
Rohan was aggressive, hacking at anything that moved. My uncle had always stressed the importance of caution, of observation. But Rohan seemed to revel in brute force. He sliced through a cluster of oversized spiders that scurried from a crevice, his movements efficient but perhaps a little reckless.
"Easy pickings," he grunted, wiping his blade on his pants.
Priya, meanwhile, was constantly consulting her book, her brow furrowed in concentration. "The lore suggests these are common cave spiders," she murmured, her voice barely audible. "They're venomous, but their silk can be… useful."
Useful how, I wondered. But I didn't ask. I just kept my eyes on the shadows behind us, my sword held ready. The weight of my uncle's expectations pressed down on me. I couldn't afford a mistake. Not here. Not now.
We reached a wider chamber. In the center, a pedestal stood empty. The air felt heavier, charged with a latent energy. Suddenly, a low growl echoed from the darkness ahead.
"Ambush!" Rohan shouted, spinning around.
From the shadows emerged two hulking figures. They were vaguely humanoid, but their skin was a sickly green, their eyes glowing with malevolent red light. They carried crude clubs, their massive fists capable of crushing bone. Goblins. The common low-level threat.
Rohan charged forward, his sword a blur. He parried a heavy blow from the first goblin, sparks flying as steel met gnarled wood. Anya moved with surprising speed, her own blade a silver streak as she engaged the second. She was good. Better than I'd expected.
Priya, however, froze. Her eyes were wide with terror, her book slipping from her nerveless fingers. It clattered to the floor, pages scattering.
"Priya!" Anya yelled, but she was too far away to help.
The goblin Rohan was fighting stumbled back, his arm clearly injured. The second goblin, seeing Priya's vulnerability, turned its attention from Anya and lumbered towards the cowering scholar.
This was it. The moment I'd been dreading. I was supposed to be the rear guard, protecting the vulnerable. But I was also the one who was supposed to be the weakest. If I messed up…
The goblin was almost upon Priya. Its club was raised, ready to strike. Anya was engaged with the other, and Rohan was struggling to recover. Time seemed to stretch, the scene unfolding in agonizing slow motion.
A primal instinct took over. It wasn't thought, it was pure, unadulterated reaction. A surge of something hot and potent coursed through me, a power I'd always kept tightly leashed. It felt like being struck by lightning from the inside out.
My hand clenched, not around my sword, but around empty air. I focused on the goblin, on the terrifying arc of its club. And I *willed* it to stop.
A faint, almost imperceptible shimmer rippled through the air around the goblin. It faltered, its club swinging wide, missing Priya by a hair's breadth. The goblin let out a guttural roar of confusion, shaking its head as if dislodged from some unseen force.
Rohan, seeing the opening, pressed his attack, driving the goblin back. Anya, seizing the moment, landed a decisive blow, and the creature crumpled to the ground.
The second goblin, disoriented by the strange interruption, was now facing Rohan's renewed assault. It swung wildly, but Rohan, sensing the shift, anticipated its moves with uncanny precision. He disarmed it with a swift flick of his wrist and then, with a brutal efficiency, ended the fight.
Silence descended again, broken only by our ragged breaths. The bodies of the two goblins lay still on the stone floor.
Priya, pale and trembling, scrambled to gather her scattered pages. Rohan leaned on his sword, a triumphant smirk on his face. Anya, however, was looking at me. Her sharp eyes were narrowed, her gaze intense.
"What was that?" she asked, her voice low and dangerous.
I blinked, my heart hammering against my ribs. My hand felt strangely numb, the residual power draining away. "What was what?" I stammered, trying to sound casual. "Rohan was just… really good."
Rohan scoffed. "I didn't need any help. That second one was a pushover." He wiped his blade again, his arrogance undimmed.
Anya ignored him. Her gaze remained fixed on me. "The first goblin… it hesitated. It looked like something… pushed it."
I forced a laugh. "Must have been the torchlight playing tricks, Anya. It was a close call, though." I tried to smile, but it felt forced. My entire body was humming with the aftermath of that uncontrolled surge of power. It was terrifying. And exhilarating.
Priya finally managed to gather her notes, her hands still shaking. "I… I think I know what that was," she whispered, her eyes wide. She looked from me to the fallen goblins. "There are… minor telekinetic abilities. Usually, they manifest as small pushes, or nudges. Very subtle. They're rare, and often dismissed as luck or coincidence."
My blood ran cold. She'd seen it. Or at least suspected.
Anya's gaze sharpened further. "Telekinetic? In a rear guard who's supposed to be struggling with basic swordplay?" She took a step towards me, her eyes piercing. "Karan, what aren't you telling us?"
I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry. This was it. The facade was cracking. "I… I don't know what you're talking about. I'm just… trying my best." My voice sounded weak, unconvincing even to my own ears.
Rohan, bored by our whispered exchange, kicked one of the goblin corpses. "Can we just get to the shard? This is taking too long."
Anya shot him a withering look, then turned back to me. The suspicion in her eyes was palpable. She hadn't forgotten. She wouldn't forget.
"Fine," she said, her voice tight. "Let's move. But Karan… we're going to talk about this later."
The rest of the first level passed in a strained silence. Rohan, eager to prove himself, practically ran ahead. Anya kept a watchful eye on me, her expression unreadable. Priya, though still shaken, seemed to be regaining some of her composure, her eyes occasionally flicking towards me with a mixture of fear and curiosity.
We found the entrance to the second level, a narrow passage that opened into a larger cavern. This one was filled with more cobwebs and the stench of decay. Strange, glowing fungi dotted the walls, casting an eerie, phosphorescent light.
As we navigated the treacherous terrain, I could feel Anya's gaze on me, a constant, unnerving pressure. I kept my sword steady, my eyes scanning the darkness, but my mind was a whirlwind of panic. She knew. Or suspected. And if she suspected, she would tell my uncle.
We encountered more spiders, larger and more aggressive than the first. Rohan handled them with his usual aggressive flair, but even he seemed to be taking more damage. Anya was efficient, her movements precise, but I could see the strain on her face. Priya was trying her best to support, chanting incantations from her book, but her magic seemed weak, more of a distraction than a real threat.
I stayed in the rear, my senses on high alert. I felt a familiar prickle of energy building within me, a dangerous temptation. I fought it down, clenching my fists. I couldn't afford another slip-up. Not with Anya watching.
We reached a chasm, a dark, gaping maw that stretched across the cavern. A rickety wooden bridge spanned the abyss, its planks warped and rotten.
"Looks safe enough," Rohan declared, already stepping onto the bridge.
"Wait!" Priya yelped, her voice trembling. "According to the lore, this bridge is enchanted to weaken under significant pressure. It might… collapse."
Rohan, predictably, ignored her. He took another step, and a plank groaned ominously beneath his weight.
Suddenly, a gust of foul-smelling wind swept through the cavern, extinguishing several of the torches and plunging us into near darkness. From the depths of the chasm, a guttural roar echoed, far deeper and more menacing than the goblins.
"What was that?" Rohan stammered, his bravado faltering for the first time.
Anya drew her sword, her knuckles white. "Something big. And it's coming up."
I felt it too. A palpable wave of dark energy radiating from the chasm. This was no ordinary dungeon. The instructor had said it was a Tier 1 experience. But this felt… different. More dangerous.
From the darkness, two glowing red eyes appeared, then another pair, and another. Then, a monstrous head emerged, its jaws lined with jagged teeth, dripping with viscous fluid. It was a cave troll, a creature far more powerful than anything we should have encountered on the first level. Its skin was thick and leathery, its arms like tree trunks.
"No way!" Rohan yelped, scrambling back onto solid ground. "This isn't a Tier 1 encounter!"
The troll let out a deafening roar and began to climb out of the chasm, its massive claws scrabbling at the stone. Anya and Rohan immediately engaged it, their blades glinting in the dim light. But their attacks seemed to do little more than annoy the beast. Its thick hide deflected most of their blows, and its powerful swings sent them staggering back.
Priya, meanwhile, had fumbled for her book again, her hands shaking so violently she could barely turn the pages. She was chanting, her voice a desperate whisper, but nothing seemed to be happening.
The troll swiped at Rohan, sending him flying into the cavern wall. He slumped to the ground, groaning. Anya was now facing the troll alone, her sword a desperate defense against its relentless assault. She was good, incredibly good, but she was outmatched.
I watched, my heart pounding in my chest. My uncle's words echoed in my mind: *Don't be a liability.* But I was. I was the rear guard, the weakest link, and I was about to watch my team get slaughtered.
The troll raised a massive fist, ready to bring it down on Anya. This was it. The moment of truth. The power within me thrummed, a desperate, urgent plea to be unleashed. I couldn't let Anya die. I couldn't let Rohan or Priya die.
This time, I didn't hesitate. I focused all my will, all my fear, all my nascent power, on the troll's raised fist. I pictured it stopping, freezing in mid-air.
A blinding flash of light erupted from my hands, a wave of pure, raw energy that slammed into the troll. It roared in pain and surprise, its fist hovering inches from Anya's head. The cavern walls seemed to tremble.
Anya stared at me, her eyes wide with shock and disbelief. Rohan, who had been struggling to get up, gaped from his position on the floor. Priya dropped her book, her mouth agape.
The troll, momentarily stunned, staggered back. Anya seized the opportunity. With a cry, she lunged forward, her sword finding a weak spot in the creature's armor. She drove it deep into the troll's chest. The beast let out a final, earth-shattering roar and