We spent a few minutes talking through the dungeon. We went over every detail, weighing the pros and cons as if our lives depended on it—which, to be fair, they did. Alice floated theories about what else we might find in there while I tried to stay calm and think straight.

In the end, the core question was simple but brutal: should we try to clear it or not? The answer was practically spelled out in front of us. Once we stepped inside, failing to finish it would mean certain death. So, technically, we never really had a choice.

In the end, after long minutes of discussion, we realized that no matter how much we argued, we would always come to the same conclusion. In the long run, it would be far more advantageous to explore the dungeon than to simply ignore it. Besides, we couldn’t forget an obvious detail — sooner or later, someone would inevitably discover its existence and venture inside.

If we take that factor into account, there would hardly be a valid reason not to explore the dungeon—especially considering how rare and difficult they really are to find. Ignoring it would be like wasting a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Now, when it comes to Alice... well, that was a much more delicate matter, full of nuances that couldn’t be approached with the same cold logic.

After a long talk, we decided Alice and I would go in together. It was her call, and Oliver backed it without hesitation. To be honest, the idea of taking Alice into the dungeon still unsettled me—a part of me wanted to push back, but I couldn’t just turn her down because the place reeked of danger.

At the end of the day, it would be risky for both of us. Even so—contradictory as it sounded—I knew it would be even more dangerous to face the dungeon without her there.

Given how little we knew about the place, there was no way to predict what waited inside—and that’s exactly why going in together felt as inevitable as it was necessary.

Alice, Oliver, and Ethan were especially against the idea of me going in alone. As far as they were concerned, now that we were on the same team, throwing myself at something obviously dangerous was off the table. If we had any shot at making it out, it would come from working together.

We’d work side by side, covering each other—and honestly, I had no reason to argue. Deep down, even I knew it would be foolish to do otherwise.

As we traded ideas and strategies for tackling the dungeon—each of them building on what I’d already told them about my first run there—I noticed a subtle shift in one teammate’s expression, like he’d suddenly remembered something important that had been lying dormant in the back of his mind.

Oliver glanced over at my male body, the one standing closer to him, and raised an eyebrow before asking, curious: “Oh, by the way—I forgot to ask earlier. In the dungeon you entered before, did your two bodies take up the two available entry slots?”

As he spoke, Oliver brought a hand to his chin, rubbing it lightly while his eyes went distant, like he was trying to sort through a storm of scattered thoughts. A few seconds ticked by in silence before his voice came back—hesitant, but steady: “I’m not sure this even makes sense... but is there a chance the dungeon won’t accept both of your bodies this time? I mean, it’s built for two people and, technically, you count as two—at least physically”

Oliver’s question instantly brought back the moment I crossed the dungeon’s entrance—the prompt that had flashed before my eyes as soon as I stepped in came back just as clearly: “I’m not exactly sure how many slots my two bodies count for in the dungeon, but apparently it recognizes them as a single individual. So I don’t think we’ll run into the issue you’re worried about”

Oliver nodded at that. His face turned thoughtful, his eyes wandering like he was running through possibilities he’d rather not say out loud. Then he gave a quick shake of his head, like someone who’d finally landed on the inevitable conclusion.

The next moment, his voice cut through the quiet—steady, with a trace of genuine concern: “If that’s how it works, great. The two of you will have an edge—you’ll be, technically, three. But don’t let that fool you. Just remember to never let your guard down. Be careful, both of you” He paused, like the weight of his words was heavier than he wanted to admit: “We don’t have infinite lives”

Alice and I listened in silence, taking in every syllable. Deep down, we both knew he was right. Doing anything rash now would, without a doubt, be the worst move we could make.

Even from my peculiar vantage point—someone living in two bodies at once—I couldn’t argue with his logic. If I could help it, I wanted to keep either one of them from taking a serious hit.

After all, even apart, my two bodies were still bound to the same consciousness, and every pain, every sensation hit me with the same sharpness.

When we confirmed, Oliver’s expression softened a little, though the worry still lingered in his eyes. He took a deep breath and said, voice steady but cautious: “Ethan and I will wait for you in the cave. Staying here could be risky—another group might pass through this area. You both know the way back, and if you run into trouble on the way out, Justin or Noa can come find me and Ethan for help. Deal?”

Alice and I traded a quick look and nodded in agreement. Then he and Ethan started getting ready to head back to the cave we’d been using for shelter. It felt like Oliver had said everything he needed to, because he was the first to turn away—his steady footsteps echoing like a quiet reminder of the weight he carried.

Ethan lingered a beat longer, giving us a serious, almost paternal look before following after Oliver. Before he left, though, he added a few words that kept ringing in both me and Alice: “Take care, you two. Remember—your lives will always matter more than anything else”

With that, Ethan turned without hesitating and headed after Oliver into the forest, disappearing into the shadows between the trees. That left just Alice and my two bodies standing there, eyes fixed on the spot where the two of them had vanished into the woods.

We stood like that for a few moments until, almost instinctively, we turned back to the dungeon behind us. The silence that followed felt even heavier, filling the air around us. Our eyes lingered on the dungeon gate, taking in every detail.

A few seconds later, I stepped forward, guiding my male body with a mind that felt a little more settled. At the same time, I turned my female body toward Alice, fixing her with a steady look.

"Let’s go in" My voice came out steady, though it carried a hint of caution: "As long as we’re careful, everything should be fine" I paused briefly, letting the silence give weight to my next words. Leaning slightly toward her, I continued in a lower, more resolute tone: "Stay close to me at all times. I promise I won’t let any monster get near you"

Alice took in my words and, for a moment, turned her face toward me. Her eyes flashed briefly in the ambient light, then she gave a firm, silent nod. Moments later, we were standing side by side in front of the orb.

Honestly, I’d only ever entered a dungeon once in my life, and even then I’d technically been alone. I had no idea how things would work now that Alice was with me.

Even so, without hesitating much, I drew a deep breath and reached out, setting my hand slowly on the orb’s translucent surface. A new prompt appeared in front of me with two clear options: confirm or decline. I picked the first without a second thought.

At once, the orb in front of me lifted a few inches off its base, its surface shimmering with renewed intensity as it began to spin faster and faster.

A low hum filled the air, accompanied by a faint stir of wind, like the space around us was responding to its activation. Right after, a familiar message took shape before my eyes, hanging there with its usual clarity.

[Entry Alert: Two bodies detected. Single consciousness confirmed. Proceed with both bodies?] Read full story at novelFirｅ.net

At the same time, another message appeared just below it. Since it was my first time accessing the system with another member, it was also the first time I’d seen this kind of notification.

[Entry Alert: Individuals detected—Justin Davies, Noa Davies / Alice Conway. Proceed with these members?]

As soon as I confirmed both messages on the panel in front of me, the orb—still turning as it floated—began to slow, like the energy keeping it aloft was bleeding away bit by bit.

Gradually its rotation slowed to a near stop, and the soft glow across its surface seemed to dim. Then the orb drifted down gently, hovering for a few seconds before settling back onto the pedestal like it was exhaling the last traces of its power. Finally, the spinning ceased entirely, as if even the air had held its breath at the sudden quiet.

A beat later, the door beside us lit up with the same intense blue that had been pulsing inside the orb, flaring into lines that ran along its edges and seams. It was like the structure itself had woken up, reacting to what had just happened.

Alice and I remained silent, holding our breath as we watched the scene unfold. The phenomenon, however, didn’t last long. Just moments later, the dungeon gate lost the ethereal glow surrounding it and slowly began to open, releasing a deep, harsh creak reminiscent of ancient wood.

The sound echoed through the chamber before fading away completely. We stood frozen, watching as the heavy doors swung wide, revealing what lay inside. On the other side stretched a vast, surprisingly flat expanse, almost circular in shape, as if it had been deliberately carved that way.

Tall, imposing trees surrounded the area, their crowns interwoven to cast an uneven shadow that seemed to shift with the wind, as if silently watching us. The scene before us felt strange, almost surreal.

The gate wasn’t simply standing there—it looked fused with the twisted trunk of a colossal tree, as if the two had grown together over countless centuries, in a symbiosis beyond explanation.

While the first dungeon still allowed for some sort of logical reasoning behind its interior, this time there was no room for such an excuse. The tree, enormous as it was, could never contain the vast space we knew lay beyond the gate. In other words, we stood before a domain where reality itself bent: an expanded space.

Right before we crossed, Alice and I shared a wordless look—expectation tinged with a hint of fear—then started toward the opening. We paused for a moment, taking in the inside before moving on.

A second later, Alice went in first. Her immediate reaction was to sweep the area with a careful look, her eyes moving fast as she took in every detail. I followed right after, bringing both of my bodies through. As I’d expected, there was no adverse reaction to us crossing together.

Once I was sure of that, I finally turned my attention to our surroundings. Just like we’d seen from outside, we stood in a relatively wide, circular area—as if someone had carefully shaped it to be exactly that way.

All around us, a ring of trees rose like silent sentinels, their interlaced crowns casting a gentle shade that made the place feel cozy and eerie at the same time. Honestly, I had no idea what this place was supposed to be or what purpose it served.

Setting that uneasy feeling aside for a moment, while Alice paced the perimeter, scrutinizing every detail, I turned to where the gate should have been. To my surprise, there was nothing there—no trace, not even a hint that a massive gate had ever existed at that spot. It was as if it had been erased from reality, like it had never been there at all.

Staring at the space where the gate had been just moments before, a single thought crossed my mind. I can’t say I was surprised: (Well... so much for our potential escape route)

While Alice—who’d stayed close to me until then—moved ahead with careful steps, I watched from behind, keeping a bit of distance.

(It should pop up any second now...) I thought.

And as if it had heard me, a new message appeared before my eyes, hanging in the air. I realized Alice had gotten the same notification—her body went still, and she stared into space, eyes fixed on a point only the two of us could see.