S-Rank dungeon

In a world where mysterious portals link the Earth to a realm teeming with monsters, hunters have emerged, individuals who have awakened supernatural powers to combat these threats. Hunters are classified according to their power level, with S being the highest and F the lowest. Among the hunters, there are some who stand out for their incomparable strength, capable of facing the most dangerous missions alone. They are called world-level hunters and are respected and feared by all. They are the heroes and kings of this cruel world, where life and death depend on luck and skill.

As each E-rank Hunter crossed the threshold of the F-rank dungeon, the air became charged with an almost tangible tension. Together, they formed a cohesive unit, ready to face the unknown that awaited them beyond the portal. The squad leader, a formidable warrior clad in a black cloak and wielding a katana, commanded the group's attention. His imposing appearance was enhanced by his black hair tied in a traditional bun and the piercing eyes that revealed a history of battles and wisdom.

His voice was firm, maintaining a balance between warning and motivation: "Let's get the job done right. Although it's an F-rank dungeon, our mission is dangerous. Stick together and do not break formation." His gaze swept the squad, pausing briefly on a young huntress with black hair and eyes, whose vigor and determination contrasted with her delicate features. He kept everyone under his watchful gaze, ensuring they were ready, before turning his attention back to the task at hand.

After the invocation that united determination and expectation, "Let's go!", came an ironic twist of fate. A dangerous, intense, and overwhelming energy swept through the squad of Hunters like a wild and merciless tsunami. The atmosphere in the dungeon instantly changed, saturated with a dense pressure that carried the weight of pure fear.

The Hunters, pillars of courage in their profession, froze, enshrouded in an oppressive silence. None dared move - their heartbeats resonated in their ears like drums of war. The leader, having faced nameless dangers in his career, never expected to feel such terror. Drop by drop, cold sweat ran down his forehead as he thought, "Breathe, calm down… What was that? Was that mana? And if it was, why such an overwhelming presence in a damned F-rank dungeon?"

Doubt gnawed at him, the comprehension of the event slipping through the fingers of his trained mind. Taking a tremulous breath and trying to master the fear that threatened to swallow his reason, he looked over his shoulder. The blue portal they had passed through was now tinged with an intense red - a warning, an omen.

His eyes widened in sheer shock, and the same panic that struck him cascaded through the squad like dominoes. They turned one after another, facing the red light that altered the dimension of their entrance. Their faces mirrored the same horror that haunted the leader.

"A dungeon break?" The question did not need to be voiced aloud, as each of them shared the same silent speculation. Such a phenomenon could only mean one thing: the layers of reality of the dungeon were colliding, and something monumental was about to happen at this intersection of worlds.

.

.

.

While the squad of hunters faced the sudden and terrifying transformation of the portal and the potential dungeon breach, Thomas, in his turn, faced the grand door that had revealed itself before him. Covered in a blue aura that emanated from himself, the structure appeared to be an ancient and mysterious invitation to his newly awakened being.

Thomas couldn't quite grasp what was happening, but inside him, a burning conviction moved him to continue, to seek a way out, or at least understand his role in that scenario. With a lightness that only the chosen know, Thomas extended his hands towards the massive doors.

And before he could even press his will against the barrier, the doors responded to his unmistakable touch, sliding open without the least effort on his part, as if moved by the command of ancient magic. A silent and welcoming voice resounded in his mind, "Welcome, my lord," bestowing upon him a title and a throne that he had not yet claimed.

It was an alarmingly comfortable sensation; the place embraced Thomas with the familiarity of a long-lost home. He found the moment bizarre, still struggling to accept that surreal reality, but recognized the intentional feeling that the dungeon itself seemed to transmit – a hidden blessing camouflaged in stone and magic.

As the door fully opened, a vast stone corridor stretched out before him, illuminated by the flickering glow of torches that burned in eternity along the walls. Thomas stepped into the passage, each step an echo in the dance between light and shadow, moving towards a destiny he had yet to discover.

"It seems like I'm in some kind of dungeon or tomb…" Thomas reflected, his inner voice almost tangible, accompanying him along with the sound of his steps in the stone corridor. Somehow, the setting aroused in him a vague sense of remembrance and belonging.

As he advanced, a new consciousness unfolded within him. His entire being vibrated, a kind of alert that transcended sight and hearing - he felt the presence of fifteen individuals. His body, now an instrument tuned to the subtle frequencies of the world around him, whispered without words: "There are fifteen strangers approaching."

The strangest thing for Thomas, however, was the absence of any emotional response to this expanded awareness. There was no fear, no sign of danger pulsing through his veins, no spark of anxiety or the anticipation a normal warrior would feel. His mind, devoid of alarm or apprehension, seemed to float in a calmness that starkly contrasted with the revelation that he was not alone.

This lack of reaction was not negligence but rather the result of the transformation he had undergone. He understood, on an instinctive level, that the fifteen approaching were nothing more than shadows in his new existence, figures in a larger plot that was still unknown to him. With tranquility, Thomas continued his walk through the corridor, awaiting the unfolding of the next events that, in turn, would weave the tapestry of his destiny.