I Was Reincarnated as a Dungeon, So What? I Just Want to Take a Nap.

Gilda adjusted the sleeping Pip on her shoulder and grunted. "Right. Time to finish this."

There was nothing left to say. With a final, steadying breath, she led her strange little team through the shimmering stone archway.

The world dissolved into a brilliant, warm white light. A chorus of tinkling, bell-like voices washed over them, speaking a language they couldn't understand but that felt like warmth and summer afternoons.

Then, as quickly as it had come, the light faded, revealing they were standing in the middle of a vast, beautiful town square.

Floating lanterns shaped like glowing flowers drifted lazily through the air. Fountains of pure, liquid light arched and danced without a sound. The buildings around them were graceful, spiraling towers of pearlescent stone, and the air was filled with the gentle, chiming laughter of hundreds of fairies with wings like stained glass, all going about their day.

Pip, who had woken up during the transition, just stared, his eyes wide with pure and sleepy wonder. "Wow," he whispered. "Are we in a dream?"

Zazu was looking up at the seamless, flowing architecture of the towers. "Fascinating," he murmured. "The craftsmanship is unlike anything I've ever seen."

FaeLina, however, was having a complete and total breakdown. "Don't look at anything!" she squeaked from Gilda's shoulder, trying desperately to hide behind her ear. "Try to look... official! And boring! Definitely boring!"

"Quiet," Gilda grunted, her eyes scanning the crowd, not with wonder, but with a warrior's sharp assessment. "We're being watched."

Her words hung in the air for a second, and then the crowd proved her right. The gentle, chiming laughter didn't stop, but a silent path began to open through the sea of fairies, a clear, straight line from the edge of the square directly to them.

Two figures floated down that path. They were tall, elegant fairies, clad in armor that looked like it was made from the iridescent carapaces of giant insects. They moved in perfect, unnerving unison, their spears of pure, white light held at the ready, their faces beautiful, impassive, and utterly devoid of warmth.

"Okay," Pip whispered, his voice a nervous squeak. "Their armor looks ceremonial, but those spears are definitely real. And very, very pointy."

The lead guard's cold, winter-sky eyes did not just look at them; they took inventory. The gaze swept over Gilda's axe with a flicker of disapproval, dismissed Zazu's kettle as irrelevant, and passed over the plush knight on the warrior's pack as if it were a strange, fluffy fungus. Then, with a quiet, final precision, its gaze settled on the tiny, trembling fairy on Gilda's shoulder.

The lead guard spoke, its voice a calm, cold chime, but the words were a stream of elegant, unintelligible syllables. "Vae'lyss, Fae'Lina. Il'sharae'sol. Vae'na… il'syl'vana?"

Gilda just grunted, not understanding the words but getting the meaning clear enough. Zazu looked intrigued, trying to place the linguistic roots of the ancient dialect.

FaeLina, however, understood perfectly. "He wants to know why you're here!" she squeaked in a panicked whisper to Gilda. "He says—"

She was cut off by a small, almost imperceptible sigh from the guard.It was the sound of a being who had just realized it would have to explain the rules to a group of uncivilized creatures. It raised a single, gloved hand, and a small, glowing crystal materialized in the air between them. "A temporary translation matrix is required," it said, its voice now magically and unnervingly clear in all of their minds at once. The guard tapped the crystal, which pulsed with a soft light. "As I was saying," it continued, its voice now a perfect, cold translation. "The summons was for one. You were to report alone, Dungeon Fairy FaeLina. These... others... are not authorized."

FaeLina let out a tiny, horrified squeak. "I... I can explain," she stammered. "This is a formal delegation from... from my assigned anomaly. They are here as... character witnesses!"

From his perch on Gilda's pack, Sir Crumplebuns puffed out his chest. "I SHALL VOUCH FOR THE FAIRY'S IMPECCABLE MORAL CHARACTER!" he announced in a loud, heroic, and deeply unhelpful stage-whisper.

But the guard's expression did not change. "Character testimony requires a Form 37B, 'Petition for Testimonial Admittance,' filed no less than three business cycles in advance," he chimed, his voice utterly devoid of emotion. "Your 'character witnesses' are armed. They are unscheduled. They are in violation of a direct summons." The two guards raised their spears of light in perfect unison. "By order of the Administrative Bureau, you will all surrender for processing."

The points of the light-spears pulsed with a cold, humming energy. The cheerful chatter of the town square didn't just fade; it stopped, cut off as if by a switch. The hundreds of fairies in the square turned to watch, not with panic or excitement, but with a silent, uniform, and deeply unnerving curiosity, forming a perfect circle around the confrontation.

They were officially causing a scene.

FaeLina began to tremble uncontrollably on Gilda's shoulder. "Don't," she whispered, her voice a tiny, frantic plea. "Don't fight them, Gilda. It will only be worse for you. I'll go. Just... just tell Mochi I'm sorry."

Pip's head, which had been swiveling to assess every possible escape route, snapped back around. His eyes narrowed. In the middle of a tense standoff with magical guards, their guide had just used a name he had never heard before. He leaned closer to Zazu.

"Sorry," he whispered, his voice no longer sleepy, but sharp and low with a rogue's professional paranoia. "Who's Mochi?"

Zazu didn't answer. He just put a calming hand on Gilda's arm, his face a mask of sad understanding. He knew fear could make you forget even the most important things.

Gilda listened. She felt FaeLina's terror—a fear so deep it had made her forget their own Core's name. She heard the sharp suspicion in Pip's voice. She saw Zazu's silent plea for calm. She saw the impassive, identical faces of the guards and the hundreds of silent watchers surrounding them. A fight here wasn't just a bad idea; it was suicide.

She took a slow, deliberate breath. And then she ignored all of them.

"Not happening," she grunted. She didn't draw her axe. She just took one half-step forward, planting her feet firmly between the guards and the tiny, terrified fairy on her shoulder.

_____________

Author's Note:

Well, they've finally made it to the Fairy Realm! And it's... beautiful. And perfect. And honestly, a little bit creepy. Hope you enjoyed the scenery, because our heroes are already in trouble.

FaeLina's brilliant legal strategy of calling her heavily-armed friends "character witnesses" went over about as well as you'd expect. Sir Crumplebuns, of course, immediately offered his heroic and deeply unhelpful support. And Pip, who is clearly still catching up, is already asking the important questions, like "who is this Mochi person everyone is so worried about?"

And then there's Gilda. Her solution to this delicate diplomatic standoff? Ignore all the sensible advice and plant her feet like a wall of stone.

What could possibly go wrong now, right?

Thanks for reading!