I made it three steps into daylight before Marla said my name.
Not loud. Not sharp. Just enough that I knew turning around was the wrong choice and did it anyway.
"Eli," she said. "You busy."
"I just clocked out."
She nodded. "Yeah."
Behind her, the dungeon mouth breathed. The Mimic sat just inside the threshold, behaving like it was carved there on purpose. Lid closed. Dent in. Waiting.
Marla scratched the back of her neck. "We've got a small thing."
"That's never true," I said.
"Smaller than Shaft C," she said. "Bigger than a flicker."
I looked at the sun. It was doing that late-afternoon thing where it pretends you still have time. My back ached in a way that felt like it had signed a lease.
"Overtime?" I asked.
"Union says voluntary," she said. "Union also says we'll remember who volunteers."
I sighed. "Fine."
The Mimic perked up. Thump. Thump. It rolled forward an inch, hopeful.
Marla blocked it with her boot. "Not you."
The Mimic deflated. Lid drooped.
"It's just a look," Marla said. "You don't touch anything."
"I won't," I said, which felt like lying even as I said it.
We headed down a maintenance spur I hadn't seen yet. Narrow. Low ceiling. The air smelled like old water and copper. The light strips flickered like they were tired of pretending.
At the end was a door. Not a dungeon door. A metal one. Hinges. Handle. A sign screwed on crooked: //UTILITY – DO NOT ENTER//. Someone had added SERIOUSLY in chalk. It hadn't helped.
"What's behind it," I asked.
Marla didn't answer. She opened the door.
Inside was a room that didn't belong. Square. Flat floor. Pipes along the walls. A humming panel bolted to the far side, lights blinking out of rhythm. The gravity felt normal, which was the first problem.
"This used to be a storeroom," Marla said. "Before the dungeon grew around it."
The hum stuttered. The lights dimmed, then flared. My stomach did the stair-miss thing again.
"What's it doing," I asked.
"Drifting," she said. "But politely."
I stepped in. The Mimic stayed at the door. Good. That was good.
The panel's casing was warm. I could feel it from a foot away. The chalk line around it was old, cracked, thick with repairs. Too many hands. Too many fixes.
"Don't," Marla said, as my hand twitched toward the chalk.
"I'm not," I said. "I'm just… looking."
The hum changed pitch. Lower. The pipes rattled like teeth.
"This room wants to be somewhere else," I said, before I could stop myself.
Marla looked at me. "That's not in the manual."
"I know."
The panel sparked. Just a kiss of light. The gravity tilted a degree. Enough to notice. Enough to be annoying forever.
Marla swore. "Okay. That's new."
The Mimic made a noise from the doorway. Not loud. Worried.
"I can fix it," I said.
"No," Marla said. "You're clocked out."
"I know," I said. "But if it keeps drifting, it'll eat the corridor. Slowly. We'll be chasing it for weeks."
She hesitated. The dungeon hummed like it was holding its breath.
"You touch it," she said finally, "you own it."
"I already do," I said, and grabbed the chalk.
The resistance was immediate. The stone under the panel fought like it had paperwork backing it up. I pressed. The chalk squealed. My wrist burned. I didn't rush. I waited. Pressed again. Short. Careful. Like Marla.
The line took. A little.
The hum steadied. The lights synced. The gravity sighed and sat down where it belonged.
Behind me, the Mimic thumped once. Proud. Gross.
I finished the circle and stepped back, heart pounding like I'd run stairs with groceries. The room felt… boring. Which was perfect.
Marla let out a breath. "You just volunteered for more than overtime."
"Yeah," I said. "I figured."
We walked back. The Mimic followed me out this time, stopping at the threshold when Marla raised a finger. It sat. Stayed.
"Good," I told it.
Marla watched that. Then she looked at me. "Get some rest. Tomorrow's a long one."
"Why."
She gestured at the dungeon. "Because it noticed you."
I clocked out again. The stone buzzed. Still didn't bite.
As I left, the Mimic thumped once in goodbye.
Overtime logged.
And somewhere deep in the dungeon, something wrote my name down.