These plans were looking good, but they still weren’t complete. Atlas planned to keep improving his doom dungeon with the fairy’s help

  "Can you ask the dungeon if it has any more ideas?" Atlas asked, his eyes narrowing as he looked around the dimly lit room. He could feel the gears turning in his mind, plotting the next move.

  The fairy closed her eyes, tuning into the dungeon for a moment before speaking again. “The dungeon says… he was really freaked out when you got right to his heart. He’s thinking about making a false chamber with a fake heart, but he needs a shiny fake gem.”

  Atlas smiled, a glint of mischief in his eyes. ‘A fake heart? Clever. Guess I really scared the crap out of this place.‘

  "I can get you a gem. Plenty of them in the vending machines for pennies. Sparkly, worthless junk made in labs across the galaxy," he said, chuckling to himself. ‘What would be the wasteland’s equivalent of mana pennies? Shards? Droplets?‘ He shrugged, dismissing the thought. ‘Eh, whatever. Gotta focus on the big picture.‘

  “There’s nobody that comes into your dungeon except for me. And if you make spawns, can you make them follow a certain path, even if it’s not straight?” Atlas asked, his voice rising with excitement. The possibilities were endless, and he was already imagining the battles his enemies would face. ‘Imagine the looks on their faces when they realize the path twists and turns…‘

  His imaginary bandits were back, scrambling through narrow hallways and fighting off skeletons at every corner. Now they were trying to face down a skeleton general, and it wasn’t going well for them.

  The fairy nodded, wings fluttering eagerly. “Yes! That’s not hard. When spawns are in the dungeon, they’re under the dungeon heart’s complete control. It’s like asking you to walk across your own living room—easy peasy lemon squeezy.”

  Atlas tilted his head, intrigued. “Like how I know where stuff is in my room, even with the lights off?”

  “Exactly,” the fairy chirped, fluttering higher as she agreed. Her enthusiasm was contagious, and Atlas felt his own energy ramping up.

  “Alright,” he said, rubbing his hands together, a grin spreading across his face. ‘Let’s get creative.‘ "What if I got you some traps?"

  The dungeon fairy’s wings buzzed faster, her eyes wide with interest. “What kind of traps?” she asked, practically bouncing in the air.

  Atlas dug through his backpack, his fingers brushing past various odds and ends until they closed around something familiar. ‘Perfect.‘ He pulled out a briar ball token, holding it up for the fairy to see. The ball of twisted, thorny vines looked as menacing as ever. “How about this? We used it to stop the skeleton horde in their tracks.”

  The fairy’s eyes lit up. “That could work! Especially in tight corridors. Bandits won’t stand a chance!”

  Atlas grinned wider. ‘Now we’re talking.‘ “Exactly what I was thinking. Let’s make this dungeon something they’ll never escape.”

  ‘‘‘

  “This is shaping up nicely,” Atlas grinned, feeling a rush of excitement as the ideas kept coming. ‘This is going to be a masterpiece of dungeon doom.‘ “Is there anything you can’t use? Anything against the rules for dungeons?”

  The fairy paused mid-flight, tapping her tiny chin, deep in thought. Her wings fluttered gently as she hovered. “Not really. As long as the dungeon doesn’t drain too much mana, man-made objects are fine.”

  Atlas smirked, eyes gleaming with mischief. “Well, these aren’t man-made. They’re alien-made. So... does that mean they’re double fine?”

  The fairy burst into laughter, spinning in the air with glee, her tiny voice like chiming bells. “Double fine!” she echoed between giggles. The sight of the mischievous fairy made him smile. ‘Yep, this is going to be fun.‘

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  “Alright, what about creatures that aren’t made by the dungeon?” Atlas asked, a new idea forming. “What If I bring you a bunch of slimes?”

  The fairy checked with the dungeon, then shook her head. “The mana upkeep would count against how many skeletons we could have inside.”

  “Hmmm…but you wouldn’t have to pay mana for the creation, so you could spawn skeletons every time a slime is killed,” Atlas pointed out, grinning like a kid who just found a loophole.

  “Wait! That’s right, ” the fairy confirmed, her eyes twinkling. ‘She’s catching on now. Good.‘

  “Okay, why don’t we make this whole room a massive slime farm,” Atlas suggested, his excitement growing as the plan fell into place.

  The fairy’s eyes widened as she pictured it.

  “If they walk in, they have to fight through the slimes while navigating traps in the dungeon,” Atlas continued, pacing with a smile on his face. “Ooh, and more slimes dropping from the ceiling! We can have the dungeon make tiny holes across the ceiling so slimes can drop down, but bandits can’t climb up.”

  The fairy clapped her hands in delight. “That would be great!”

  “Okay. Death Room One, created,” Atlas declared, mentally picturing his imaginary bandits now struggling in slime-filled chaos, slipping and sliding, weapons useless as the sticky creatures overwhelmed them. ‘Suckers.‘

  The bandits in his mind were getting their asses handed to them, the slimes making quick work of the pitiful resistance. ‘Yup, little chance they’d survive that mess.‘

  Now, in his mind’s eye, the huge group of fifty imaginary bandits was completely trapped or dead, their attack crushed by the dungeon’s defenses.

  “And while all this is going on, just in case, you can fly out of the dungeon and fire flares,” Atlas said, his voice full of satisfaction as he thought through the rest of the plan.

  “But won’t the entrance have bandits?” the fairy asked, worry creeping into her voice.

  “Not if you build two more exits for emergencies. A smart fox has three burrows,” Atlas said with a wink.

  “I’m smarter than a fox!” the fairy huffed indignantly, puffing out her tiny chest.

  “Yes, that’s why you should have four exits!” Atlas agreed, grinning even wider.

  “Four burrows, four times the smarts. That’s me!” exclaimed the dungeon fairy.

  “Atlas tucked his plans under his arm, saying a quick goodbye to the fairy. “Stay smart, four-exit genius,” he teased as he left the dungeon.

  All he needed to do to start his plans would be to talk to Isabella after he got home, to get her to form the dungeon defence forces. He was leaving the dungeon with plans in place, when a notification came up in his vision.

  ‘‘ACHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED:‘‘

  ‘‘TITLE: DUNGEON CORE‘‘

  ‘Description: You know you're supposed to be an adventurer, right? Not a dungeon master? Seriously, what next? You want to take all the jobs from the poor fairies?‘

  ‘‘BONUS:‘‘ Any bandits attacking your dungeons will suffer random mana equipment failure. Frequency depends on various factors, including how funny it would be.

  ‘‘‘

  Now it was time to go home. It was a much easier trek back, since nobody had to keep an eye out for prisoners trying to escape.

  Atlas, Portilla, and Crushir marched at the head of the group, their boots crunching the dry earth as Fort Bone came into view. Behind them, twenty fresh recruits walked with straight backs and puffed chests, trying to suppress their grins. ‘We did it!‘ The thought buzzed in each of their heads like a swarm of happy bees. They had successfully escorted the prisoners, and in their minds, this moment was grand, majestic, and heroic even.

  One recruit, his face flushed with excitement, imagined the gates of Fort Bone swinging open to the roaring cheers of a massive crowd. ‘The people will scream our names! They're probably gonna throw a parade for us!‘ He could almost hear it now—the clapping, the chants of "Heroes! Heroes!" as confetti rained down.

  Another recruit pictured himself being hoisted onto someone’s shoulders, basking in the glory. ‘Yeah, they’re gonna lift me up, chant my name... maybe Isabella will even notice me!‘ He tried not to look too eager but couldn’t help the tiny smile creeping onto his face.

  Atlas, walking just ahead of them, rolled his eyes at the siblings' banter. He knew what was coming. The reality of Fort Bone wasn’t exactly the fanfare these recruits were expecting. He had once been in their shoes in his last life: expecting glory, cheers, and admiration. But the wasteland was a place of survival, not praise.

  As they approached the gates, Atlas gave a small nod to the guard stationed at the entrance. The heavy doors groaned open, revealing the familiar sight of the fort's bustling life—people hauling supplies, sharpening weapons, tending to the wounded. No one even looked up at them. ‘Not exactly the parade these noobs were imagining,‘ Atlas thought, amused.

  One of the recruits, still in his daydream, leaned toward his buddy. "Here it comes," he whispered, eyes wide with anticipation.

  Nothing.

  No cheers. No confetti. Just the clanging of hammers and the murmurs of soldiers going about their business. The reality hit them like a slap to the face, and their puffed-up chests deflated just as quickly.

  Atlas smirked, leading the way toward the war room. "Let’s get debriefed, then I’ll get you more duties." He paused, glancing back at the group.

  The recruits groaned inwardly, their dreams of glory crashing down, but somewhere deep inside, a new understanding was starting to form. This was Fort Bone—where working hard was the real reward.