The city of Orario never slept. At any time of day, the streets were bustling with life: adventurers, merchants, con artists, beggars... all revolving around the great pillar that dominated the center: the Tower of Babel. Beneath that sacred structure lay the entrance to hell, disguised as glory—the dungeon.
A place where heroes were born... and the disposable died.
In the shadows of an alley, a boy watched. He wore old, dirty, torn clothes. His blond hair was covered in soot, and his green eyes were sharp as blades. His thin body was little more than skin and bones, and yet there was a contained energy in him... something that neither hunger nor abandonment had been able to extinguish.
The entrance to the dungeon roared with a constant murmur, as if it were breathing. Rows of adventurers formed under the strict surveillance of the members of the Ganesha Family, who kept their eyes wide open. No civilians were allowed to sneak in. No fool should die from recklessness.
And yet, there he was.
Leo, a ten-year-old boy with green eyes that had long since lost their sparkle, held a piece of old armor in his hands as a shield. He could barely stand, but his eyes were more alive than ever.
"Focus... if you stumble, you're dead," he thought as he crouched between boxes of supplies. "Ganesha's guard is constant... two patrols, breaks every twenty minutes... groups enter every three... that will be the moment," he thought as he wiped the dust from his hands.
He had been observing the group's behavior for weeks. He knew how they walked, how they talked to each other, and even how some argued about the loot before entering.
He waited until he saw a group of young adventurers with worn armor and arrogant expressions. People who relied on their status more than their talent. They were the perfect target.
When the group of four adventurers—all poorly equipped but armed—passed by and headed toward the entrance, Leo walked right behind them, head down, his dirty face hiding his features. He held a piece of old armor, as if it were part of his equipment.
A Ganesha guard turned to the group and raised his voice:
"Are you all from the same team? Five people?" asked a Ganesha guard, without looking up from his tablet.
"Y-Yes!" replied one, distractedly, without looking back.
Another member of the group, annoyed by the interruption, nodded with a grunt.
"Yes, five. Can't you count?"
The four members of the group, due to their arrogance and eagerness to enter the dungeon as soon as possible, did not notice that an orphan, a forgotten one, a shadow on the outskirts of the city, had managed to sneak in with them.
"Tch, go ahead," the guard grumbled without paying any more attention.
Leo said nothing. He just lowered his head and clenched his teeth... Leo had entered.
When he crossed the threshold into the dungeon, Leo felt the air change. The heat of Orario was replaced by a damp cold. Natural light disappeared behind him. Instead, a bluish bioluminescence emanated from the walls and ceilings. The stone walls glowed. The floor creaked with every step. The silence was strange... but it was there. Pulsing. As if the whole place were breathing. The dungeon was not a simple tunnel, but something, a kind of living being.
Irregular stones formed wide corridors, some crossed by cracks that pulsed with magical light. The walls curved at impossible angles.
A constant murmur—a mixture of wind, breathing, and something else... organic—enveloped everything. From time to time, echoes of human voices could be heard... and other noises, squeaks, growls, clashes of swords, nervous laughter, and distant screams.
Leo swallowed hard, walking with small steps, measuring each step as if he were crossing a tightrope. Although he was afraid, a stronger emotion pushed him forward.
"This... is another world," he thought. "This is where they became strong... the reason they abandoned me..."
His stomach growled. He hadn't eaten anything but stolen bread crusts or food poisoned by shame for days. This noise alerted the four men in the group that he had infiltrated.
"Who brought this trash here?" one of them pointed at Leo as he looked at the other three members of the team with contempt.
"Look at how he's dressed, he's trash, he must have snuck in without us noticing," said another of the men as he pushed his way through and stood imposingly in front of Leo.
"We should leave him; he won't survive more than two minutes anyway, he's not even good for bait," said the strongest of the four men.
"You're right, he's skin and bones. He mustn't look appetizing to the creatures in the dungeon," said the last of the four men.
Those men's words reminded him of what the other orphans used to say to him when he lived in the poor neighborhoods of Orario: "You're worthless!" "You're not one of us anymore!" "If you want to die, do it far away from here!"
The men in the group walked away from Leo, leaving him alone on the first level of the dungeon. As the minutes passed and Leo ventured deeper into the dungeon, some adventurers passing by looked at him with contempt. One even spat near his feet.
"Who lets brats like this in?"
Leo was aware that no one really valued his life in this world, that he was just a nuisance to society, and that his value was equal to nothing, but Leo ignored them. He was good at ignoring. He had done it all his life.
Within a few minutes, the groups he had entered with had already dispersed. He was completely alone.
He moved forward slowly, avoiding looking to the sides. He had no map, no magic, no strength. Only a dull knife and his willpower. Little by little, he ventured further until he reached a dead-end corridor... Without a map to guide him, he didn't realize he had taken a wrong turn... a fatal mistake, as this path was a trap for some adventurers.
Leo noticed that there were creaking sounds coming from inside the walls, and cracks appeared in the walls, as if the dungeon were taking a deep breath before vomiting its hatred. Five goblins emerged from the cracks. Small, green, with yellow eyes shining in the darkness, they were like rabid insects, with bared teeth and small rusty daggers in their hands.
One screeched when it saw Leo, and the other four imitated it before lunging at him.
Leo froze. For a second, fear was greater than his instinct, and Leo did not scream. When he reacted, he ran without looking back.
Five. Damn it. They're as tall as I, but they weigh more. They're armed. I can't fight. I can't... not yet. I'm dead if they surround me. His mind analyzed quickly as his feet slid across the uneven ground.
He advanced through a narrow corridor, zigzagging. The air whistled in his ears, the goblins behind him screeching with eagerness, enraged by their fleeing prey. One of them stepped forward and almost cut his heel with his dagger, but Leo jumped and rolled down a narrow slope. His body ached, his bones protested, but he didn't stop.
"They're behind me... they're following me without thinking. They're not intelligent, their steps are clumsy, perhaps because they've just been 'born'. I can use that," Leo thought as he slipped into a side passageway. There he found what he was looking for: a drop.