In that dark room, smelling of isolation, Dayle stared at the television screen with a bitterness that devoured his soul. The news was filled with praise for the Eckard Family, the ones who ruled the balance of power in the country. He saw his mother, the "Spear Mistress," piercing through ranks of monsters with pride. He saw his father, the "Ice Blizzard," turning battlefields into glass graveyards. Even his siblings: "Lui" the Sea Sword, "Mark" the Holy Healer, and the youngest, a genius Alchemist... everyone had a place under the sun.
Except for him... Dayle Eckard. The son born into a family of giants only to be a dwarf with no skill and no power. He was like a typo in the records of a prestigious family. He hated his body, which had never awakened, feeling like a prisoner inside a shell of helplessness.
The silence of his room was broken by his phone ringing. It was his only "friend," inviting him to a raid in a medium-rank dungeon. "I'll come," Dayle whispered to himself. To him, death was better than staying forgotten. He put on his black leather coat and left the palace. No one stopped him, the guards didn't ask where he was going, and his family didn't say goodbye. He was alive, but to them, he had been dead for a long time.
At the dungeon entrance, he met the group of six. Two girls (a mage and a healer) and four young men. They looked at him with a mix of pity and mockery. He wasn't a hunter; he was just a "Porter." A person who couldn't even carry a sword—so how could he protect his own life?
They entered the pale blue dungeon, but once they crossed the threshold, everything changed. The corridor was unnaturally long, with walls of polished black marble reflecting their pale faces. "Look at these walls!" one of them said greedily. "There must be treasures at the end of this hallway that will make us rich forever."
They walked for an hour in total silence, before it was interrupted by a terrifying "hissing" sound crawling on the walls. They looked up, and their blood froze; more than fifty giant black twin-headed snakes were hanging from the ceiling like nightmares. The battle broke out, and Dayle hid in the furthest corner, watching the power he was denied as it tore the monsters apart in seconds.
The fight ended, and they reached the end of the corridor where a great black door stood. Everyone worked together to push it, opening a majestic circular arena. In its center stood a statue of a man more beautiful and wild than anything ever seen. He was tall, with giant stone wings wrapped around him, holding a beating stone heart in his right hand and a mysterious mask in his left. The walls and ceiling were covered in faded black drawings that seemed to move under their eyes.
"No treasures here... just cursed stones!" one of them shouted in frustration. But as they turned to leave, a sudden silence fell... then the silence broke with the sound of the stone mask shattering!
The statue rose into the air, and a demonic laugh shook the dungeon, striking terror into the strongest hearts. The statue screamed in a voice that sounded like it came from the bottom of hell:
"Whoever dares to enter the Gate of the Dead shall never see the light again! Let the cursed souls rise, let the shadows shroud this place, and let your hearts burn with the fire of endless hatred!"
The great door slammed shut violently. From the black drawings, thousands of dark hands emerged, like smoke with claws. In the middle of the horror, another statue appeared, screaming one word that shook their souls: "THE OFFERING... PRESENT THE OFFERING!"
In that moment, the human masks fell. Dayle saw in his friends' eyes something more terrifying than monsters; he saw betrayal in its purest form. Without blinking, his "friend" grabbed him and pushed him with all his strength toward the altar, while the dark hands hungered to tear him apart.
"Why?! I trusted you... I thought you were my family!" Dayle screamed, trying to cling to life.
His friend gave a disgusting laugh and said: "Trust? You fool, you were just a way to get to your family's money. Die now so we can survive!"
The gate opened for a few seconds, and everyone escaped, leaving Dayle alone in the jaws of death. The dark hands began to feast on his flesh, tearing his soul apart piece by piece. He felt the teeth of darkness piercing his chest, and blood poured from his eyes, red with pain and injustice.
Amidst his screams that no one heard, a spark was born inside him that was never there before. Dayle gave a bitter laugh, the laugh of a person whose heart died before his body, and he shouted words that were a blood oath:
"I will return... I swear by every pain I feel now, I will make you beg for death and not find it... I will show you a hell no human has ever seen... I will teach you who the real Manipulator is!"
He closed his eyes as his body faded into the darkness, but at that moment... the "Gate of the Dead" began to open a different kind of door for him.