[Churches and believers who will be gone in a couple of millennia anyway.]

“You really have moved on, haven’t you, GOD lady? So cold. So callous.”

[As much as I don’t enjoy talking with you, I will have to cut off the transmission at some point.]

“You might have just slipped there. You said you ‘don’t’ enjoy this conversation.”

[I know what I said.]

“This isn’t some kind of punishment for skipping church back in the days, is it?”

[Beta, I literally could not care less as long as you focus on your current job.]

“Right. So you were saying that I should grab some items and find my own food. Where exactly is there food?”

[Head south from the village and you will find a forest.]

“A forest now? How big is this Dungeon?”

[Big enough for six races to wage war against each other. More specifically, there are fifty Levels total, and only the uppermost three Levels have been discovered and explored by the inhabitants. You are currently at Level One.]

“And where is this interracial war happening?”

[Everywhere. It is a war to take control of the entire Dungeon and eradicate the other races. Every place you go is the frontier.]

“Okay, look, first of all, screw you for sending me in the middle of a war scene. Very ungodly, if you ask me. Second of all, how exactly am I supposed to beta test if things have progressed this much already?”

[We expect nothing and everything from you, Beta.]

“What does that even mean?”

[Just do your best.]

“That’s not helping either. Could you be more specific?”

[Follow your guts and stick to your main objective, which is to discover and exploit the Dungeon’s flaws. Whether you become a hero or a villain is totally up to you. In fact, we would like to see you take some actions in the ongoing wars. Make allies, kill enemies, rule, serve, die—]

“Die? What happens when I die?”

[You die. End of the story. Early retirement.]

“I mean, do I get to see you again, or like am I going to be done for good?”

[You’re most likely going to be done for good, yes.]

“There. You did it again. So callous. So cold. You know, as a reluctant church goer all my life, I was taught that God is our friend.”

[Lies. I guide my creations through fear and steel.]

“Now I see that.”

[And even if I were, I’m your employer now, and you’re way too late to start your work. Get moving.]

“Yes, boss.”

[Good. Tutorial’s over. You won’t be hearing from me again.]

“What tutorial? You barely taught me anything, like, where’s the bathroom in this house?”

And just like that, the boss lady deluged me with a ton of information and cut me off.

“Hello? Ms. GOD, may I hear your beautiful, pedantic voice again? Please? It’s dark in here... and I’m kind of scared.”

Silence, as expected.

I sighed and threw another look to the deserted, burned down village.

My stomach grumbled in the silent dark. I would have to eat first, and then worry about this lousy job.

.

.

.

There was no dead body as GOD lady said, but there were dried bloodstains everywhere I went. I searched through six houses that were looted to the ground. There was nothing much, but the search was not a total waste of time.

- Acquired:

Rusted Dagger

Rusted Bow

Quiver - 12 Arrows

Worn Cloak

Small Nuts - Handful

Dried Fruits - Several strips, unsure of what kind but tasted sweet

Wine - 1 Bottle

Leather Sack - Presumably pigskin

A few years ago, on top of fiddling with actual rifles and guns at a shooting range, in an attempt to hone my sniping and shooting skills on the mouse and keyboard, I bought a compound bow and a crossbow and practiced with them at a relative’s cabin in the countryside. I had some fun, and I think the experience helped me focus a little better in-game. Or getting some fresh air away from sitting in front of the computer twenty-four-seven for a change did the magic.

Years later, here I was, reborn and alone in a war-chaotic Dungeon, with a Rusted Bow in my hand. I decided to give it a name and call it ‘Rusty.’ To prevent confusion, my rusted dagger was now called ‘Daggy.’ There was no need to give stuff names, but I was kind of lonely at the moment.

As for the cloak, I did not pick it up just for the looks. Cloaks were useful to cover one’s self for warmth and could be used as a blanket while camping outside. Not that I ever considered camping outside this foreign, hostile world. And wearing a cloak looked badass, so I went for it.

So with Rusty on my back and Daggy on my waist, I set out to the forest in search of some food.