Bell stayed still long enough for the silence to settle around him. The cave felt like it was watching him—quiet, breathless, patient. A place untouched by Orario, untouched by gods, untouched by anything he knew. His chest rose and fell in quick, uneven breaths.
He wasn't dreaming.He wasn't hallucinating.He wasn't dead.
Everything felt too real—the bite of cold in his fingers, the sting on his cheek where he'd hit the ground, the weight of his dagger.
Calm down. Just… breathe. You've survived worse. You've survived a Minotaur.
He swallowed hard.
That wasn't true. Ais had saved him. He had survived only because someone stronger stepped between him and death.
Here?
He sensed immediately:
There would be no Ais Wallenstein.No Loki Familia patrol.No Guild staff waiting at the surface.
Just him.
And a world that smelled like old stone and forgotten corpses.
The Cave
He forced his feet to move, one after the other, until he stood fully upright. A narrow corridor stretched before him, illuminated by dim, unnatural light leaking from cracks in the stone. Runes—curved, unfamiliar—were etched along the walls, their carved grooves older than memory.
Bell reached out, tracing a fingertip along one symbol. The stone was cold, but it thrummed faintly beneath his touch.
The moment he brushed it—
A whisper touched his ear.
Not a voice.Not a person.A sensation—like something ancient had exhaled softly.
He jerked his hand back, heart climbing into his throat.
This place is wrong… everything about it is wrong.
But Bell had nowhere else to go. The darkness behind him felt no safer than the path ahead. So he gripped his dagger with both hands and took a step forward.
Then another.
Then another.
Discovery
The path turned left, the walls widening to reveal a small chamber with a stone coffin in the center. Dust blanketed the lid so thickly it looked like untouched snow. Bell approached slowly.
A single object lay atop the coffin:
A withered parchment—yellowed, brittle, half crumbling.
He leaned closer.
Words were scratched into the surface, written by someone with shaking hands.
"Only the strong rise.""Only the cursed remain.""Trust not the light."
Bell felt the words settle into him like cold iron. This wasn't a warning. It was a prophecy left behind by someone who never made it out.
He stepped away, pulse quickening.
Then—
A faint shuffle echoed behind him.
Bell spun, raising his dagger.
The First Enemy
Something crawled out of the tunnel's shadow—a gaunt figure draped in rotting cloth. Its skin clung to its bones like dried parchment. Its empty eye sockets glowed faintly with dim embers.
A corpse—moving.
Bell's breath hitched. "M-Monster…?"
It wasn't a Dungeon monster.
There were no crystals embedded in its chest. No magic stone. No familiar structure or pattern.
Just a corpse that had forgotten how to stay dead.
It let out a low, rattling hiss and lunged.
Bell dodged on instinct, the creature's fingers scraping the stone where his head had been. A shiver went down his spine. Its nails were long—bone-like, sharp enough to open skin.
Bell slashed. His dagger sliced its arm, cutting through dried flesh. It barely reacted. Instead it swung again, faster than expected for something so decayed.
Bell stumbled backward.
This wasn't like fighting Dungeon beasts.This thing didn't have predictable movements.It didn't care about pain.Or wounds.Or survival.
It just wanted him dead.
Bell grit his teeth, darted to the side, and thrust his dagger into its skull. The blade lodged deep. The creature twitched once—
Then collapsed.
Bell staggered back, panting. His hands shook uncontrollably, the adrenaline making his fingers numb.
"That wasn't… that wasn't human. And it wasn't a monster either…"
He wiped sweat—and a bit of ash—from his forehead.
No magic stone.No monster drop.
Just a dead body, unmoving now.
Bell crouched beside it. Something metallic glimmered on the corpse's belt. He hesitated, then pulled the object free.
A small flask—glass, sealed, warm to the touch. A faint red glow sloshed inside like liquid sunlight.
He didn't drink it. He didn't trust anything here—not yet. But he kept it. His dagger wasn't going to be enough forever.
Bell pushed himself up and moved on.
The Descent
The tunnel narrowed again, forcing him to duck. The air grew colder. The smell of ash thickened. Golden dust drifted like tiny sparks around him, as if the air itself shed something divine and dying.
Another chamber opened.
This one had no coffin—only a stone archway leading downward. A faint, warm breeze rose from the steps below, carrying a whisper of the outside world.
Bell took a step down the staircase.
A second.A third.
The cave seemed to stretch endlessly downward until he reached another flat platform at the bottom.
The moment his boot touched the last step—
Something behind him slammed shut.
Bell spun in terror.
The staircase he had descended was gone—sealed by solid stone as if it had never been a passage at all.
"No… no no—please, no—!"
He pressed his palms against the rock. It didn't move. He tried to wedge his dagger into the cracks. Nothing budged.
He was trapped.
The only way was forward.
Bell squeezed his eyes shut and forced a breath.
Alright… you've been in the Dungeon before. You can handle dark places. You can handle unknown things. You can do this.
He steadied himself and walked through the arch into a wide chamber.
The First Fall
The chamber was empty. Quiet. Too quiet.
In the center stood a single, narrow wooden bridge spanning a dark pit. Bell stepped closer and peered downward.
He couldn't see a bottom.
He took a shaky breath.
I just need to cross. That's it. Just walk.
He stepped onto the first plank.
It creaked loudly.
Then another step.
Another creak.
Halfway across, the wood beneath his boot snapped.
Bell's eyes widened.
The whole bridge collapsed.
He didn't have time to scream.
Just the sensation of falling—fast, weightless, helpless—as the darkness swallowed him whole.
He hit something hard.
Pain exploded up his side.
Stone. Cold. Unforgiving.
Bell groaned, pushing himself up with trembling arms. Every part of him hurt. His head spun. For a moment he saw double.
"…Still alive…?"
Somehow, impossibly—yes.
He blinked until his vision steadied. The room he landed in was massive and circular, lit by a faint shimmering glow overhead. Mossy walls curved around him like a giant tomb.
And at the far end…
Something towered in the shadows.
Bell felt it before he truly saw it.A presence. Heavy. Ancient. Wrong.
Then it stepped into the faint light.
A creature of stitched flesh and armored bones. Limbs twisted into unnatural angles. A massive wooden shield grafted into its arm like a parasite. Its blind face stared without eyes.
Bell choked on his own breath.
"I can't… I can't fight that…"
The creature roared—an ear-splitting, broken sound.
Bell's entire body locked.
For a moment he thought he saw his own death reflected in its grotesque form.
Then—
The monster charged.
And Bell Cranell, thrown into a world he didn't understand, with no Familia and no goddess to save him—
ran for his life once again.
End of Chapter 2.