Evan descended in silence. There was no fanfare, no swirl of teleportation effects—just a soft, bone-deep shudder as the Core Weave transitioned him from interface space into the floor proper.
The Hollow Vale stretched out around him, unfolding with solemn ease. Fog gathered low along the ground, curling around his boots as he stepped forward. Old stone paths wound through the abandoned village, their edges softened by creeping ivy and time. The air smelled of damp leaves and rusted iron, and above it all, a blood-tinged moon loomed, suspended in a sky that refused to move.
This was no longer the drafting sphere. The scaffolds and floating grid-lines were gone. This place had weight now. Presence. It was his dungeon—completed, grounded, and alive in its silence.
He exhaled through his nose, and even that small motion felt more grounded than before. The game had always prided itself on its sensory fidelity, but this moment made it real in a way he hadn't expected. A cold breeze brushed his coat, and gravel shifted subtly beneath his boots.
Reaching to his side, he pulled the book from his hip. The Core Weave responded with a dry flutter as it opened, parchment glowing softly. Tabs emerged from the surface, unfolding with quiet precision.
⚔ ENCOUNTERS
The tab unfurled like a living map, lines of ink drawing themselves into formation. At the center of the display:
Available Templates (Floor 1)
Dreadfang Wolves
Bone-Chewer Bats
Widowspine Spiders
Hollow Revenants
Cryptbear
Redfang Alpha (Mini-Boss Designation)
A quiet chime signaled the system's readiness. One of the pages turned on its own, and a summoning sigil traced itself into the ground before him. Soft light traced the circle's edge, marking it as a space meant for observation and controlled projection.
"Let's meet the monsters," he said, voice light with curiosity.
The first projection formed as a Dreadfang Wolf stepped into view. The sigil glowed faintly, and a ripple passed through the mist as the creature emerged. It moved with a kind of deliberate caution—its limbs long and sinewy, with muscle strung tight beneath patchy, mottled fur the color of scorched earth. Standing nearly shoulder-height to a grown man, its hunched frame gave it the look of something that crept rather than ran, favoring slow, relentless stalking over speed. Faint bone ridges ran along its spine, as if something beneath the surface had tried to break free. Its mouth parted just enough to reveal uneven fangs darkened by decay. Its eyes, deep-set and ember red, held a dull, unreadable stillness.
It didn't growl. It didn't shift. It simply stared.
System text filtered into view beside the sigil:
Dreadfang Wolf
Type: Beast
Intelligence: Pack-level (Semi-Coordinated)
Traits: Silent Movement, Bloodscent Tracking, Flanking Instincts
Behavior: Hunts in threes.
Abilities:
Bloodthirsty Lunge – The Dreadfang Wolf locks onto wounded prey and launches a sudden, vicious leap. If the target is below 50% health, the attack deals bonus damage and inflicts a stacking Bleed over time effect. Cooldown applies per target.
"Low health? That's its favorite flavor."
Howl's That for Backup? – Lets out a sharp rallying cry that summons nearby Dreadfang Wolves to converge on the target. Each one gains a temporary movement speed boost as they close in.
"You thought one was bad? The rest were waiting for an invitation."
Teeth of the Many – Each nearby Dreadfang Wolf increases the others' damage output by 5%, stacking up to a maximum of 25%.
"Every fang that joins the fight sharpens the rest."
He gave a low chuckle after reading the flavor text. "I wonder if players will even get to see this," he said. "Don't remember seeing any when I was beta testing... but then again, my dungeon's going to be a little more unique." He paused, thoughtful. "I hope they do. They will get a kick out of this flavor text. It's the kind of hidden feature players love."
The wolf lowered its head, sniffed the ground, then looked directly at him. Neither hostile nor submissive—just waiting.
Evan gave a slow blink. "That's a solid baseline. I could build around you."
He paused, studying its build more carefully. The abilities clearly worked best in proximity—each wolf enhancing the next. It was designed with group behavior in mind, a layered challenge meant to test coordination as much as reflexes. On its own, it might pressure a party. In a group, it could grind one down.
He made a mental note not to group too many of them too close. If every encounter spiraled into a massacre, players wouldn't survive long enough to uncover the floor's deeper layers.
With a thought, he dismissed the projection. The wolf dissolved into particles of light.
The next projection took the form of the Bone-Chewer Bats.
The sigil shimmered faintly, and a soft rustling passed through the air. Then the swarm emerged—small, pale shapes drifting into view in a chaotic, spiraling formation. Each was about the size of a forearm, with patchy white fur and thin, semi-transparent wings that occasionally caught the light. Their eyes were clouded, but their movements were well-coordinated. They stayed together with quiet precision.
Evan studied the way they moved, noting the scattered beats of their wings and the brief, high-pitched clicks that came and went. They looked like they weren't meant to be a major threat on their own, but they could easily become annoying when used alongside something more dangerous.
Bone-Chewer Bats
Type: Swarm (Aerial)
Intelligence: Rudimentary
Traits: Visibility Impairment, Merge Form Capability
Behavior: Dormant in trees or rooftops. Activates on sound triggers. Mini-swarms will merge into a larger swarm if not handled quickly enough.
Abilities:
Veil of Wings – While active, the swarm creates a haze of motion and sound disruption that reduces player visibility and muffles nearby audio cues, making communication and trap detection more difficult.
"It's not that you can't see. It's that nothing stays still long enough."
Carrion Wake – Whenever a creature dies within range of the swarm, a smaller sub-swarm spawns from the remains and targets the nearest living entity. These offshoots persist for a short time before either rejoining the main swarm or dissipating.
"Fall behind, and you'll feed the swarm."
Hollow Sip – When the swarm maintains proximity to a player for more than a few seconds, it begins to siphon small amounts of health at regular intervals. The effect intensifies slightly if the target is slowed, stunned, or otherwise distracted.
"It's not the bite that hurts—it's how long they stay."
He considered where they might be most effective. Their speed and coverage made them a good fit for outdoor areas, where they could keep players constantly adjusting. Indoors, though, they risked becoming more of a nuisance than a challenge. With that in mind, he set a soft cap on how many could appear in enclosed spaces.
He watched the projection cycle through their movement again, arms loosely folded as he weighed the effect.
"They'll wear people down more than anything," he said. "Not much pressure by themselves, but if someone's already dealing with a fight or trying to stay hidden, they'll make it harder."
He glanced over the village layout, considering the rooftops and narrow paths that threaded between buildings. There were a few spots that seemed promising—places where players might hesitate or gather their bearings. If timed right, the swarm could catch them off-guard without needing to do much on its own. "They don't need to finish anything," he murmured. "Just make things inconvenient enough to tip the rest of the fight."
The swarm shimmered once more, then faded as Evan dismissed the projection with a quiet gesture. The system paused, waiting for his next input.