The rain was a mockery. Every drop that slid down the filthy window of his one-room empire seemed to whisper the same word: failure.

Leo sank into his office chair, which groaned in protest. The last customer's voice still stung his ears. "The soda wasn't cold enough. I want a refund." An order for fifteen credits. Fifteen.

His gaze fixed on the computer screen. Over his expense sheet, a browser window flashed a glaring red warning: DEBT LEVEL: CRITICAL.

He closed his eyes. At 26, he was the captain of a ship that wasn't just sinking, but had already settled on the ocean floor, slowly being crushed by the pressure.

His phone buzzed on the desk. A long, insistent vibration. The sound of his electronic leash.

Leo picked it up, ready to reject any order that would cost more in energy cells than he'd make in profit. But it wasn't an order.

MANDATORY UPDATE 'Pronto-Delivery' v6.6.6 Optimizing Reality Sync for an Expanded Marketplace.

"Reality Sync..." he muttered, a humorless laugh escaping his lips. "Corporate speak for 'we're going to steal your data more efficiently.'"

He hit "Update Now" without a second thought. After all, what else did he have to lose?

The progress bar filled in the blink of an eye. The app restarted. The familiar orange interface was gone, replaced by a deep purple, speckled with dots that glittered like a night sky. The fonts were thin, elegant, as if made of light.

Before Leo could even process the aesthetic change, his phone didn't chime. It emitted a THUM. A deep sound that didn't come from the speaker, but seemed to emanate from the device itself, vibrating in his hand and through his chest.

An order card dominated the screen.

PRIORITY ORDER - OMEGA LEVEL Client: Ignis, the Insatiable Item: 1x Imperial Tonkotsu Ramen (Serving: COLOSSAL / Spiciness: INFERNAL) Address: Slumbering Volcano Peak, Eighth Abyssal Chasm, Reality 7 Payment on Delivery: 1,000 Karma Points + 1x [Trueflame Scale]

Leo tried to close the app. It wouldn't close. He tried to turn off his phone. The power button didn't respond. Panic, cold and electric, began to crawl up his spine. He tapped the "Decline Order" button. It was greyed out, inactive.

A red text box, with letters that seemed to pulse, overlaid everything.

WARNING: Omega Level orders cannot be declined. Failure to deliver will result in the application of a Level 1 Penalty: Spontaneous Equipment Combustion.

"Equipment? What equipment?" he said to the empty room.

His GPS activated on its own. The map didn't show the streets of the megalopolis. It showed a single route, starting from his current location and ending at a point marked "Client Destination."

It was then that his senses rebelled. First, the silence. A heavy silence, as if the sound of the rain and the city had been swallowed. Then, the smell. Sulfur and ozone, like a lightning strike right beside him. And finally, the heat. A wave of dry, hot air that made sweat bead on his forehead.

A thin line of orange-red light, trembling like a candle flame, was leaking from under the storage room door.

Don't open it. Don't open it. Don't open it. The mantra echoed in his mind, a desperate plea. But his body wasn't listening. It was like watching a horror movie in the first person.

His feet carried him to the shelf where the canceled ramen sat. The plastic container, with its already rubbery noodles and lukewarm broth, seemed a pathetic offering for whatever demon awaited him. He picked it up.

With every step toward the storage room, the heat intensified. The metal doorknob wasn't warm. It was feverish, almost too hot to touch.

Leo took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and turned the knob.

He opened the door to hell.

There was no alley. There was no rain. There was a cavern so vast his mind refused to process the scale. The ceiling was lost in the darkness above, dotted with crystals that shone like sick stars. Rivers of magma flowed down the distant walls, bathing everything in a sinister, pulsing light.

And in the center, rested a mountain that breathed.

Scales as black as obsidian, each the size of a shield. Horns that tore at the air. And eyes. Two miniature suns, incandescent, which fixed on Leo and pinned him to the spot.

His brain screamed at him to run, but his legs had turned to cement.

The voice exploded inside his head. It wasn't a sound; it was a command, a wave of psychic pressure that forced him to his knees.

"You... are the mortal from 'Pronto-Delivery'? Your aura is weak. I thought you'd take longer."

Paralyzed, terrified, Leo could only do one thing. He stretched out his arms, his hand trembling so badly the ramen broth nearly sloshed out, and offered up the plastic container.

The dragon's head, larger than Leo's car, descended with terrifying speed and grace. A forked tongue, dark as night, flicked out and cleaned the contents of the container in an instant.

There was a silence that lasted an eternity.

Then, the dragon let out a small burp. A cloud of sulfurous smoke and embers puffed from its nostrils, hitting a nearby stalagmite and turning it to glittering dust.

The voice returned to Leo's mind, this time in a dangerously contemplative tone.

"Hmm. Flavorful. The pork was a bit dry. But... where is the marinated egg? The advertisement in my scrying sphere clearly showed a marinated egg."

Leo's phone vibrated in his hand, the sound obscenely loud in the vastness of the cavern. He looked down at the screen.

CUSTOMER REVIEW: The client 'Ignis, the Insatiable' has marked your delivery as INCOMPLETE. You have 24 hours to rectify the order. Failure to satisfy the client will result in a permanent penalty to your rating. Reminder: Customer satisfaction is the cornerstone of our ecosystem. Couriers with a rating below 3.0 stars are considered redundant and are... recycled.