The air was damp. The scent of wet earth and old stone crept into his nostrils, stinging like a fog too thick to breathe normally. His body stirred slowly, awareness returning through a mild ache in his head and the cold that seeped from the rough surface beneath him. When he opened his eyes, all he saw was… darkness.
Dark. Silent. Only one sound accompanied him—drip... drip... the repeated sound of water droplets falling onto stone. A haunting, relentless rhythm that reinforced one simple fact: this wasn't his room.
He sat up, his breathing gradually steadying. His hands reached out, feeling the coarse, damp, and cold surface around him. Stone. The atmosphere wasn't familiar… but not entirely unknown either. After a while, his eyes began adjusting to the dark. A faint glow from somewhere—maybe reflected from glowing minerals—started to reveal the contours of the room.
"A cave…?" he whispered.
Towering, curved walls, water dripping from stalactites above, and an uneven floor scattered with small rocks—he was inside a cave.
He rose slowly, his body still weak. The clothes on him weren't the pajamas he usually wore. Instead, they resembled rough linen garments—an old shirt and worn trousers. No shoes, just cloth wrapped around his feet.
"Is this… isekai?" he muttered, unsure.
The thought slipped in naturally, as if lifted straight from the pages of a manga or the scenes of an anime. The protagonist suddenly waking up in another world—usually after dying, getting hit by a truck, or experiencing some bizarre phenomenon. A fantasy world full of monsters, magic, and—most importantly—cheat systems like status panels or overpowered abilities.
With a mix of excitement and panic, he stood upright and raised his hand forward like a beginner mage.
"Status!"
Nothing happened.
"Menu! Panel! Open Status Window!" he cried out, faster and more desperate.
Silence answered him. No blue hologram. No transparent window filled with numbers and stats. Only the soft echo of his own voice bouncing off the cave walls.
His expression tightened. "Don't tell me… I didn't get a cheat?" he choked out.
He swallowed hard, his heart starting to race. No weapons, no food, no guiding system—and he was clearly in a strange, cold, and silent place. This cave… didn't feel safe. It felt more like… a starter dungeon. The kind where level 1 adventurers get killed by the very first bat or goblin.
That thought had barely formed when his ears caught something.
Tap... tap... tap...
Footsteps. Distinct. Slow. Heavy.
He held his breath, his body freezing instantly. That sound didn't come from the dripping water. It wasn't from him. Something—or someone—was walking closer. The footsteps echoed in the cave, growing louder with time. In silence like this, even the smallest sound rang out clearly. Maybe… the creature had heard him yelling earlier.
Shit, he thought, panicked and quiet. He immediately began backing away, pressing himself against the cave wall, searching for a dark corner or crack to hide in.
His heart pounded. His hands were cold with sweat. Whatever was approaching… he had nothing to fight it with.
The sound of footsteps grew nearer, their rhythm echoing ominously through the silent cave corridor. He pressed himself against the wall, eyes scanning every corner for an escape—or a place to hide.
To his left, just a few meters from where he stood, he saw a narrow crack in the cave wall. A large fracture, wide enough for one person to slip through if they turned sideways. Without a second thought, he slipped inside, holding his breath as he tried to make each step utterly silent. The crevice was cold and dark, but deep enough to hide his entire form.
Tap... tap...
The footsteps finally appeared. A silhouette emerged just beyond the crevice, lit faintly by the glow of mineral reflections. Something that cast a long shadow... and as the figure passed by, he saw it clearly.
"...Skeleton..." he whispered, barely audible.
A humanoid figure without skin—just bones, yellowed with age, moving as if alive—walked steadily through the cave. In its hand, it held a rusted sword, and a small blue flame glowed in the hollow of its eyes.
That was no human. That was... a skeleton.
His legs trembled. His heart pounded so loudly, it felt like it could be heard. The skeleton stopped right in front of the crevice where he was hiding. For a moment that felt like an eternity, he froze. Had it heard him? Did it know he was there?
But after several tense seconds, the skeleton resumed walking... and vanished down another tunnel.
He let out a breath—so deep it nearly toppled him from relief. One hand clutched his chest, trying to calm the wild beating of his heart. "That was close..."
After ensuring the path was clear, he slowly crept out from the crack and continued exploring the cave. He had no idea where to go, only trusting his instincts. Several branching paths confronted him, but one seemed slightly drier than the rest—perhaps a sign of nearing the surface.
Then he stopped. A faint light glowed ahead.
He approached cautiously, peeking out from behind a large rock. There, in a small branching chamber, he saw a group of skeletons—about five or six—gathered around something. They stood like statues, as if guarding a crypt.
He crouched and hid again. "Damn... if they see me, I'm done for."
He thought hard. How could he get past them?
Then a memory returned—the skeleton had come when it heard a noise.
"They respond to sound..." he murmured. A crazy idea sparked in his mind.
Holding his breath, he picked up a small rock from the ground. He waited for the right moment... then threw it as hard as he could into the far corner of another tunnel.
Clack!
The rock bounced, producing a sharp sound.
The skeletons instantly turned, and without hesitation, one by one began quickly walking toward the noise. He waited until the chamber was completely empty, then crept forward. Cold sweat ran down his face as he passed the spot where they had stood.
But something caught his eye.
Near the tunnel fork stood a chest—large, ancient, and covered in eerie carvings of human skulls. It was a gray-black with rusted metal trims.
"Whoever designed this... must've been a psychopath," he muttered, half-trembling.
Still... curiosity proved stronger than fear. Who could resist the allure of a chest in a dungeon? He approached, made sure no skeletons were nearby, and quickly opened the lid.
Clatter.
Inside the chest, he found three items.
A sleek black dagger, crafted from a dark, gleaming metal, its hilt carved like a coiled serpent with tiny red eyes.
A two gold coin, ancient-looking, with unfamiliar inscriptions on its sides.
A small, pitch-black crystal that seemed to absorb light, as if it held something unnatural within.
He stared at the crystal for a moment, feeling... strange. A faint vibration pulsed when he touched it. But before he could analyze it further—
GRRAAKK!!
A loud sound—like dozens of bones moving rapidly—echoed from the tunnel behind.
"They know...!" he gasped.
Without hesitation, he grabbed everything from the chest, stuffing it into his pocket and hand, then sprinted away as fast as he could. His breath came in ragged gasps, his heartbeat like a war drum in his chest.
The skeletons were chasing him—not slowly this time, but running. Their footsteps thundered behind him, drenching his body in sweat.
He darted through the branching tunnels, praying his choice was right. And when he saw another crack in the cave wall—narrower, but deep enough—he dashed into it without thinking.
But this time... the skeletons stopped outside. They collided with one another, trying to enter, but the gap was too small for so many at once.
Still panting inside the crevice, he looked out. They couldn't get in...
But he could strike from within.
With trembling hands but burning resolve, he drew the black dagger from the chest.
"If you can chase me this far... don't blame me."
He stabbed the nearest skull. The red eyes on the dagger's hilt glowed faintly, and as the tip pierced the bone, a hissing sound—like a snake—filled the air. The skeleton crumbled instantly—shattered without a sound.
His eyes widened. "This weapon... can destroy them!"
With a surge of courage, he struck at each skeleton that tried to reach inside. The dagger was razor-sharp, seemingly made to annihilate the undead. Every strike was precise and furious—fueled by fear, by desperation, by nearly dying.
One. Two. Three... Six.
Until finally—silence. No more footsteps. Only his ragged breathing and trembling body.
He slumped against the cave wall, eyes staring up into the darkness above.
"...I'm still alive..." he whispered.
For now.