Asher's phone buzzed at 7:12 a.m.
He stared at it like it had personally betrayed him.
"…No," he said, rolling onto his side. "We agreed on patience."
The phone buzzed again.
MAYA:
You alive?
Asher squinted.
ASHER:
Barely. Why is the sun aggressive?
A pause.
MAYA:
Because you're opening today. In forty-eight minutes.
Asher bolted upright.
"…RIGHT."
He was out of bed in seconds, moving on instinct—throwing on clothes, grabbing his keys, nearly forgetting his wallet before catching it mid-fall without looking.
A faint pressure brushed his senses.
[Notice]
External-life stability event detected.
"Oh shut up," Asher muttered, shoving his wallet into his pocket.
He jogged out the door, took the stairs two at a time, and made it outside with time to spare.
At the store, Maya was already there, sipping coffee with the calm of someone who had accepted mornings as a personal enemy.
She eyed him as he slid behind the counter.
"…You're early."
Asher nodded. "I am trying a bold new strategy called 'not being late.'"
She snorted. "I'll believe it when it lasts a week."
The morning rush hit immediately.
Customers lined up. Orders piled. The register beeped in rapid succession.
Asher moved smoothly.
He restocked shelves without knocking anything over. Slid around corners without clipping displays. Caught a falling bottle of soda with his foot and flicked it upright.
Maya noticed.
She didn't comment.
By mid-morning, Asher felt it.
The pull.
Not urgent.
Persistent.
He swallowed.
Not now.
The pressure behind his eyes sharpened.
[Notice]
Dungeon availability window optimal.
"…You have got to be kidding me," Asher whispered.
[Clarification]
User schedule indicates minimal fatigue.
"I'm at work."
[Affirmation.]
"That's not permission!"
The system fell silent.
Which meant it was waiting.
A customer waved a hand in front of his face.
"Hello?"
Asher blinked. "Sorry. Zoned out."
Maya leaned closer once the customer moved on.
"You okay?" she asked quietly. "You look like you're arguing with yourself again."
"…I'm practicing mindfulness."
She stared.
"…I hate that answer."
The shift dragged.
Not because it was hard—but because Asher was aware the entire time. Every movement. Every reaction. Every moment he chose not to move faster than necessary.
Restraint was exhausting.
By the time lunch rolled around, his shoulders ached—not from work, but from holding back.
Maya clocked out and grabbed her jacket.
"You coming?" she asked. "I'm getting food."
Asher hesitated.
The pull strengthened.
[Notice]
Dungeon window narrowing.
He clenched his jaw.
"…Yeah," he said. "I'm coming."
The system did not comment.
They walked to a nearby food truck, the line short and the smell incredible. Asher ordered something fried and greasy and sat on the curb with Maya.
For a few minutes, things were normal.
Painfully normal.
Maya nudged him with her shoulder.
"You've been weird lately," she said. "Not bad-weird. Just… different."
Asher chewed slowly. "Different how?"
She shrugged. "Like you're always ready. Like you're waiting for something to happen."
He smiled faintly.
"…What if I am?"
She studied him.
"…Asher."
"Yes?"
"If you're in trouble, you tell me."
His stomach tightened.
"I'm not," he said quickly. "I promise."
She didn't look convinced.
But she nodded.
"Okay," she said. "I'll hold you to that."
The pull spiked.
[Warning]
Optimal dungeon window closing.
Asher exhaled slowly.
Later.
The system waited.
After lunch, the store slowed. By the time they locked up, the sky was dark and the streets were quiet.
Maya stretched.
"You walking home again?"
Asher nodded.
"Good," she said. "You looked like you needed air."
He smiled. "Thanks."
They parted ways.
Asher took a long route home on purpose, giving himself time to think.
By the time he reached his apartment, the pull was strong—but not screaming.
He dropped his keys on the counter and leaned against the wall.
"…Alright," he said. "You win."
[Clarification]
This is not a competition.
"It absolutely is," Asher replied. "And you almost lost."
He entered the dungeon.
The space was small.
Cramped.
Low ceiling. Narrow corridors.
No enemies.
Asher frowned.
"…This feels like a trick."
[Personal Dungeon – Variant Active]
Environment Type: Endurance Corridor
Focus: Restraint / Resource Control
He groaned.
"You're doing this on purpose."
[Affirmation.]
The corridor stretched endlessly forward. Every few steps, subtle hazards appeared—loose stones, sudden drops, narrow squeezes.
Nothing lethal.
Nothing dramatic.
Just… tiring.
Asher moved carefully. Walked instead of ran. Stepped instead of Burst Stepped.
When the corridor narrowed, he exhaled and turned sideways instead of forcing his way through.
Minutes passed.
Then more.
His legs burned—not from strain, but from slowness.
Finally, the corridor ended.
A screen appeared.
[Personal Dungeon – Cleared]
Performance: Restraint Maintained
Rewards:
• Angelic Coin x12
Asher laughed softly.
"…You paid me to not be an idiot."
[Clarification]
Correct.
The warp returned him home.
Asher collapsed onto the couch, staring at the ceiling.
"…You know," he said, "this might be the hardest dungeon yet."
No response.
Which meant—
It agreed.
Asher closed his eyes.
Tomorrow would be another balancing act.
And for once—
He felt ready.