Violet Ardent stood in front of a giant stone door deep in the woods. It hummed quietly, glowing with soft blue light. The door was round like a coin, and strange markings danced across its surface. She brushed her fingers over the smooth stone. Cold. Ancient. Alive.
"This one is new," she whispered.
Behind her, the wind rustled the trees, but nothing else moved. No birds. No animals. The forest was quiet.
Too quiet.
She reached into her satchel and pulled out a small crystal orb. It glowed faintly in her hand. "Scan," she said.
The orb blinked, then a soft voice replied, "Unstable dungeon detected. Class: C. Entry possible. Monsters present."
Violet sighed. "Figures."
It had been five years since her parents died during a dungeon outbreak. Five years of training, reading, learning spells, and hunting monsters. And now, she hunted alone.
She tightened her gloves, brushed her long black hair behind her ears, and adjusted her coat. It was a deep purple, almost violet. Her parents had given it to her when she turned twelve. That was the last birthday they spent together.
She pushed the memory away.
This was no time to be soft.
She pressed her hand to the dungeon door. "Open."
The glowing symbols flared, and the door rumbled. Dust fell from above. Then, slowly, it slid open with a deep grinding sound.
Inside, it was dark. A cold mist spilled out from the opening like breath from a sleeping beast.
Violet took a deep breath, pulled out a silver wand from her belt, and stepped in.
---
The inside of the dungeon was like a cave. Wet stone walls, dripping water, and glowing moss lit the path ahead. Her boots made soft echoes as she walked.
She whispered, "Light."
The tip of her wand lit up, casting a warm glow around her.
"Scan again," she said to the orb.
"Three monster signals. Weak. Close."
Violet nodded. "Good. I need the practice."
She walked slowly, watching every shadow, every bump in the rock. Her heart beat fast—not from fear, but excitement. Every dungeon was a puzzle. Every monster was a test.
And she had to pass every one.
Suddenly, something growled.
She stopped.
A shape moved ahead. Low to the ground. Four legs. Glowing eyes.
A dungeon wolf.
It was as big as a lion, with black fur and silver claws. Its eyes were red like fire.
It snarled and leapt.
Violet pointed her wand. "Barrier!"
A round shield of light appeared in front of her just in time. The wolf hit it with a loud thud, bounced off, and landed on its feet.
It growled again.
Violet didn't wait. "Blast!"
A bolt of blue energy shot from her wand and hit the wolf in the chest. It howled and staggered back.
"Again!" she shouted.
Another blast. The wolf fell with a heavy thump and vanished in a puff of smoke and sparks. A small crystal dropped where it had been.
Violet walked over and picked it up. "One down."
The dungeon shook slightly.
"Uh-oh," she said. "More coming."
---
She moved quickly now. The dungeon hallway twisted and turned like a maze. Two more monsters appeared—smaller than the wolf, but faster.
Bat-like things with sharp teeth and long claws.
They flew at her, screaming.
"Shield!" she called.
A bubble of magic formed around her. The bats bounced off with squeaks and shrieks.
She spun her wand. "Bind!"
Chains of light flew out and wrapped around the bats. They squirmed and struggled.
"Blast!" she shouted.
The bats exploded in sparks. More crystals dropped to the floor.
Violet picked them up and stuffed them into her satchel.
"Still got it," she said, smiling.
Then the smile faded.
These were low-level monsters. Nothing compared to the one that killed her parents. That one… it was huge. A shadow demon. Blacker than night, faster than sound. It tore through the town in minutes.
She was only twelve. Hiding under the table. Watching through the cracks in the floor.
She never forgot that scream.
Never.
---
At the end of the hallway, there was another door. This one was smaller and older. A strange symbol was carved on it—a circle with three eyes.
Violet frowned. "That's new."
She hadn't seen this symbol in any of her books.
She touched the door. It felt warm.
The orb in her hand pulsed. "Warning. Unknown energy detected."
Violet's eyes narrowed. "Unknown, huh? Sounds interesting."
She reached into her coat and pulled out a small notebook. She flipped to a blank page and drew the symbol carefully.
Then she pushed the door open.
---
Inside was a small round chamber. The walls were covered in glowing vines. In the center was a stone table, and on the table sat a glass jar.
Inside the jar was a floating black feather.
Just one.
It pulsed with dark light.
Violet stepped forward slowly. Her heart beat faster.
"What is this?" she whispered.
The orb said nothing. No signal. No reading.
She reached out.
Then a deep voice echoed through the chamber.
"You shouldn't have come."
Violet spun around. No one was there.
"Who said that?" she demanded.
The feather began to glow.
Suddenly, the chamber shook. The walls cracked. Dust rained down.
The jar exploded.
The feather flew up into the air—and vanished.
Violet held her wand tightly. "Show yourself!"
But no one came.
Only silence.
Then, from deep below the dungeon, something roared.
Loud.
Angry.
Awake.
---
The roar echoed through the stone walls like thunder. Dust poured from the ceiling. The ground trembled beneath Violet's feet.
She backed away from the broken jar. Her heart pounded. That feather… it wasn't just some strange dungeon relic. It was a signal. A key. Or maybe even a warning.
She turned on her heel. "Time to go!"
She ran back through the hallway, her light spell flickering as the dungeon shuddered again. Rocks fell behind her. Cracks split the ground. Something deep below growled again, louder this time.
Not just awake.
It was rising.
---
Violet raced down the winding paths, retracing her steps. The air grew colder, the mist thicker. Her orb buzzed in her hand.
"Danger increasing. Mana surge detected. Dungeon collapse possible."
"Thanks for the update!" she shouted.
A wall cracked to her left. A long, black claw burst through, swiping at the air. It missed her by inches.
She didn't stop.
The dungeon didn't want her to leave. Something in it had changed. It was alive now, angry, and shaking apart.
A jagged stone fell from above. She dove forward, rolled, and came up running.
"There's the door!" she yelled.
The glowing circle she had entered through shimmered faintly. It flickered. Crumbling.
"Come on… come on…"
She jumped through.
---
Outside, the sun was still shining through the trees, but it felt different. The air was thicker, heavier. Violet dropped to her knees, gasping.
Behind her, the dungeon door crackled with black lightning.
Then, without warning, it vanished. The stone disc faded into mist and disappeared. Gone.
Like it was never there.
Violet stared at the empty space. Her hands shook.
"That… was not normal."
She opened her notebook and drew a quick sketch of the feather and the voice's words.
"You shouldn't have come."
She closed the notebook and stood up. "Yeah? Well, too bad. I did."
---
Later that day, she sat in a quiet corner of the Arcane Library. It was a huge building in the city, filled with books, scrolls, and magical relics. Violet had a special pass to study there—one of the few mage scholars under the age of twenty-five.
She flipped through books, trying to find any mention of the black feather. Or the symbol. Or the voice.
Nothing.
Not in the monster guides, dungeon studies, or forbidden magic section.
It was like that chamber didn't exist.
She leaned back in her chair and sighed.
"I need help."
But help wasn't something she liked asking for.
Still… there was one person.
---
She climbed to the top floor of the library and knocked on a big wooden door. Gold letters were carved into the frame:
Professor Elias Thorne – Dungeon Theory and Lost Mana
A voice called from inside. "Come in!"
Violet stepped in. The room was cluttered with glowing scrolls, floating books, and dusty shelves. A tall, thin man with wild gray hair looked up from a pile of notes.
"Ah, Violet!" he said, smiling. "Still chasing trouble, I see."
She smiled faintly. "Still chasing answers."
She handed him her notebook and pointed at the symbol. "Ever seen this?"
He adjusted his glasses and stared at the drawing.
Then his smile vanished.
"Where did you find this?"
"In a dungeon. Deep. Near the eastern woods. There was a jar… a feather… and then something spoke to me."
His eyes widened. "It spoke?"
She nodded. "Told me I shouldn't have come. Then the dungeon tried to collapse on me."
He closed the notebook and stood up. "Violet, listen carefully. That symbol… it's older than the Arcane Library itself. It belongs to something called the 'Deep Ones.'"
She raised an eyebrow. "The what?"
"An ancient race. Not human. Not monster. Something… in between. Said to be the first creatures touched by mana. They vanished long ago. But if that symbol is showing up now…"
He trailed off.
Violet leaned forward. "What does it mean?"
"It means," he said slowly, "some dungeons are changing. Evolving. And something very old is waking up."
---
That night, Violet sat on the roof of her apartment building. The city lights glowed below. The stars twinkled above.
She held the orb in her hand. The same orb her father gave her when he taught her her first spell.
"I'm going to find out what's going on," she whispered. "I'm going to stop whatever's coming. Just like I promised."
A soft wind blew through her hair.
Then, far in the distance, a red light burst into the sky.
Another dungeon.
Another outbreak.
She stood up.
"Time to move."
And with that, Violet vanished into the night—wand ready, heart burning, and a new mystery pulling her deeper into the unknown.