The World's First Dungeon Vs Zane

Everyone was up by the time Bell emerged from the bedroom. Kai and Lily were halfway through breakfast, and Zane was standing behind a very bedraggled-looking Tarni, trying to hack off his dreadlocks with a bush knife.

Bell stopped in the doorway, blinking.

Tarni's hair looked like it had lost a fight with a lawnmower. Small tufts stuck up in every direction — the spots Zane couldn't get too close to without risking skin.

She covered her mouth to hide the laugh. "Why aren't you using scissors?"

"We tried that," Zane replied without looking up. "But I broke them with my manly strength."

He hacked off another chunk, and Bell shook her head and headed for the coffee. Best to let them sort it out.

Tarni finally swatted Zane away with a dramatic flair. "Enough! Cease your butchery, brute!"

He cleared his throat and, in a voice as dignified as possible given his new patchy hairstyle, declared:
"As I awoke this morning and discovered I no longer felt like an ogre's arsehole after all-you-can-eat curry night at the local, a revelation struck me—like a pair of hairy goblin balls to the face."

Groans echoed around the room. Lily nearly choked on her toast. Bell winced. Kai facepalmed.

Undeterred, Tarni stood, wincing slightly, and began pacing small laps around the room with one hand behind his back and the other gesturing like he was holding an invisible pipe.

"We need to stop and think. We need to ask questions. We need answers."

There was a moment of silence.

"I thought we were already—" Kai began.

"What questions?" Lily asked at the same time.

Tarni spun and pointed dramatically at her. "Excellent question, Watson!"

He resumed his slow pacing.

"My first question: is this System business happening anywhere else? And if it's not… is it spreading? Why do the messages say 'initialising'? Like it's still warming up. Still preparing for something.

"And if the rest of the world's still ticking along like normal—should we be taking advantage of that?"

He came to a stop, knocked imaginary ashes from his imaginary pipe, and sat gingerly back down on the couch, still clearly a little sore but satisfied with his monologue.

Everyone stared at him.

Bell sipped her coffee and raised an eyebrow. "You really are feeling better."

Zane leaned against the kitchen bench, arms folded, knife still in hand. "Alright, jokes aside… Tarni's not wrong."

Tarni nodded solemnly, brushing hair tufts off his lap like it was a royal robe.

Zane continued, "We've been reacting so far — goblins show up, we fight 'em. The System kicks in, we roll with it. But if this thing is spreading… or if it's not and we're the only ones seeing it, then that changes things. A lot."

Kai, mouth half-full of toast, swallowed quickly. "We could try calling someone again. Once we get signal. See if anyone else is seeing the System prompts or monsters. Maybe even post online — anonymous, like."

"We did go into town already, remember?" Lily said. "No System, no goblins, no weirdness. Just normal people. It's only happening here."

"That we've seen," Kai added. "It could be like… a slow burn. Starting here. Expanding."

"Or we're in a test zone," Bell said quietly from the table.

Everyone turned to look at her.

"Think about it," she said, hands wrapped around her coffee mug. "Initialising. Like a new program. What if we're part of a trial run? What if someone—or something-is — is testing how people respond?"

"Bloody hell," Tarni muttered. "We're lab rats."

Lily frowned. "Then why the goblins? Why not something more… scientific? Less stabby?"

Zane rubbed his jaw. "Maybe that's the test. See what we do under pressure. How fast we adapt. How far we'll go for power."

Bell gave him a look.

"I'm not saying I like it," Zane added quickly. "Just… we need to think outside the usual boxes. This isn't a natural disaster. It's something else."

Tarni leaned forward, wincing. "If this is a test — we should test back. Try different things. See what triggers what. Can we force level-ups? Can we gain XP without killing? Can we—"

"Use the System without fighting?" Bell asked. "Because that's something I want to know."

"Right," Tarni said. "And what happens if we ignore it? Or refuse to fight? Will it punish us? Force our hand? Or does it just… wait?"

Lily looked uncomfortable. "What if we're not supposed to say no?"

Bell reached over and touched her hand gently. "That's what they want you to think. That it's a choice — but not really. Which is why we ask these questions now, before the next fight. Before we stop thinking altogether."

A heavy silence settled in the kitchen.

Zane finally broke it with a nod. "Alright. No more running headfirst into things. We plan. We scout. We test. We gather data."

Kai raised a brow. "Like proper researchers?"

"Like survivors," Zane said. "Smart ones."

Tarni held up his mug. "To inconvenient questions and getting weird with it."

Lily chuckled and clinked her cup against his. "To not becoming bloodthirsty XP junkies."

Bell just sipped her coffee and watched them — proud, and still worried.

Because the real question was… would they stick to this plan once the next opportunity came along?

And if the System wanted them to chase power — how long before it made sure they did?

With the most important question agreed upon — Is the System only happening here, or is it spreading? — they made the house as goblin-proof as they could. Then all five of them crammed into the ute for a drive into town, aiming to get mobile reception and search online for any hint of the System elsewhere in the world.

As they pulled away, Zane glanced in the rearview mirror, eyes lingering on the stilt house. A knot of unease tightened in his chest. What if it wasn't there when they came back?

His mind was already spiraling with new ideas: hire a backhoe, dig trenches around the property; get some star pickets, weld them together like small tank traps; string razor wire between them; reinforce the tin and plywood barriers under the house; build proper shooting slits. He needed more materials, more time. More everything.

Town, at least, still looked normal — cars parked along the street, bakery smells drifting from the corner, not a goblin in sight. They decided to head to the local pub for an early lunch while they checked their phones.

It took Bell stepping in to convince the publican to let Tarni through the door, but in the end, it was Tarni's freshly hacked hair and his solemn promise to stick to soft drinks that sealed the deal.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

"Just lemonade," he said, placing a hand dramatically over his chest. "Scout's honour."

"You were never a scout," Lily muttered.

"Details," he said, breezing past her.

Over toasted sandwiches and lukewarm chips, they scoured the internet. Reddit threads. Fringe conspiracy forums. Local news from around the country. Twitter, TikTok, even emergency service bulletins. But none of them could find a single credible mention of anything resembling the System. No XP. No monster sightings. Not even a weird glitch.

Just them and to Lily Shergin, the 14 missed calls but no messages from James

"I really should call him back... at some point" mumbled Lily

By the time the food was gone, the decision was unanimous: whatever this was, it was only happening in their area — at least for now. Which meant upgrading the house's defenses was priority number one.

As they left the pub, walking out into the midday sun, they nearly ran smack into Emma — Max and Kaitlyn's mum. She stopped dead in her tracks, mouth parting in shock.

"Bell?" Emma blinked, eyes scanning her up and down. "You look… amazing. Are you—? Are you okay?"

Bell smiled gently. "Feeling a lot better, Em."

Emma opened and closed her mouth twice before recovering. "Well, bloody hell. That's incredible. Everyone's been so worried."

Zane gave Bell a sidelong look, but she just nodded politely.

Emma squinted at the group, clearly still trying to wrap her head around Bell standing there like nothing had happened. "Right, well—hey, are you guys coming to the twins' sixteenth? We've invited the whole town. Big bonfire, bit of a cook-up. Should be fun."

Lily and Kai exchanged a quick glance.

"We'll see," Zane said, his smile tight. "Things've been a bit full-on lately."

Emma nodded, oblivious. "No worries! Just thought I'd say. Kaitlyn would kill me if I didn't invite you all. You know how she is."

As Emma wandered off, Tarni leaned toward Bell and muttered under his breath, "The real horror movie starts when we have to go to a birthday party while the world's ending."

Bell chuckled softly, but her eyes were distant, watching Emma disappear down the street. "Maybe the world hasn't ended yet," she said.

Their next stop was the local Bunnings.

Zane's eyes lit up the moment they walked through the sliding glass doors. "Right," he said, clapping his hands. "We're doing this properly."

Within ten minutes, Zane and Tarni had hired a three-tonne flatbed truck from the trade desk. Then the real shopping spree began.

They filled the flatbed with everything they could think of that might be useful — now and later: rolls of fencing wire, star pickets, bags of concrete, rebar, industrial bolts, a welding kit, sheet metal, angle grinders, jerry cans, heavy-duty tarps, padlocks, toolboxes, and more. Tarni threw in a chainsaw and a sledgehammer "just in case," while Zane practically wept with joy when they found a clearance rack of solar floodlights and motion sensors.

By the time they were done, the flatbed sagged under the weight, and the checkout girl looked ready to call for backup. Zane paid in full with his trade account and gave her a wink on the way out.

Meanwhile, the rest of the group had taken the ute to the supermarket.

Kai made a beeline for the toilet paper aisle, sweeping every last pack into the cart like he was on a bizarre game show.

"The one thing you never want to run out of," he said solemnly, balancing a twelve-pack on top of the stack.

Lily raised an eyebrow. "I think there might be a couple other things we don't want to run out of," she said, half-laughing as she tossed in nine family-sized jars of instant coffee.

Bell, more practical, started loading up shelf-stable foods: canned beans, long-life milk, oats, pasta, rice, cooking oil. Kai added multivitamins "because who knows if we're getting enough iron fighting goblins," and Lily grabbed every painkiller and cold-and-flu tablet they could find.

They didn't stop until the register spat out Kai's receipt, along with a declined transaction alert.

Kai stared at his phone. "Maxed out. That was fast."

Without missing a beat, Bell pulled out her card. "We're not done yet."

Zane and Tarni made it back to the house first, the hired flatbed truck creaking under the weight of their haul. They wasted no time unloading — Zane already had a mental blueprint for new barricades, and Tarni was just happy to be moving again without feeling like death microwaved.

Meanwhile, the others had one more stop to make: the hotel where Bell's hospital palliative care unit had been set up.

It was surreal.

Lily and Kai entered the room quietly. The sterile scent still lingered — antiseptic and something sadder beneath it. They ruffled the sheets, repositioned the IV drip to make it look like it had been well used. Lily placed a used paper coffee cup on the bedside table for realism. It all felt… weird. Like they were faking a crime scene in reverse.

Then they made the call.

Kai handled it, voice steady as he spoke to the man on the other end.

"No, thank you, we won't be needing the unit anymore… Yes. Yes, she passed peacefully… This morning."

There were a few awkward condolences. A fumbling of words. Lily winced every time the man said sorry like he meant well but couldn't quite land the tone.

Outside in the ute, Bell sat low in the seat, hoodie up, her face turned down. After her chat with Emma, She wasn't ready for the stares or the whispered questions — How are you here? Are you a miracle? And her least favourite question. I thought you were dead?

Better to avoid it altogether.

She stayed in the car, one hand resting lightly over her chest, where her body no longer ached, where sickness no longer ate at her from the inside. The weight of what they'd done settled over her like the rainclouds had the day before — heavy, but lifting.

By the time Lily and Kai returned, Bell didn't ask how it went. She didn't need to.

They drove back in silence, the road winding through bushland that now felt more dangerous than it looked.

There was work to do. And now, they had time to do it.

There was a semi-trailer parked awkwardly near the end of their dirt driveway. Bright orange flashing signs read OVERSIZE and NOT SAFE TO OVERTAKE. Strapped down on the back was a truly massive excavator — the kind you'd expect to see digging out mines, not someone's backyard.

The driver, a burly bloke in high-vis and dusty boots, was standing beside the cab, squinting down the narrow dirt track that passed for their driveway. He was holding a clipboard and clearly debating whether to risk the turn.

Bell, spotting an opportunity to talk to someone who wasn't family — or Tarni — and who wouldn't be tiptoeing around the fact she was supposed to be dead, jumped out of the ute the moment Kai brought it to a full stop.

"G'day! I'm Bell. Can I help you?" she called, smiling as she walked over.

The driver looked down at his paperwork, then back up at her with a furrowed brow. "Is this Mr Rider's residence?"

Bell paused a second. Then it clicked — Zane must've gone all-out and hired the biggest excavator he could find.

"Yes, this is the right place," she replied, trying not to laugh.

"Uh, I'm Dave," the driver said, hitching a thumb toward the giant machine on his truck. "I don't reckon I'll fit between those gate posts. Is it far to the house?"

Bell tapped her chin, thinking for a moment. "Give me a minute. I'll be right back."

She turned and walked back to the ute, leaning through the window to quickly explain the situation. Dave watched, puzzled, as the ute reversed toward the left-hand fence post. His confusion turned to surprise when Kai and Lily got out, tied a rope from the post to the ute's tow ball, and then ripped the entire post — along with a good chunk of the fencing — straight out of the ground.

Dave flinched, waiting for the woman to explode at the destruction. But instead, Bell strolled back over, all calm smiles and casual grace.

"Can you fit now, or do we need to do the other side?" she asked sweetly.

Dave blinked. He took a cautious step back. "Uh… no, that should be alright. Thanks…"

He was just about to climb back into the cab when a terrible thought struck him. He turned slowly, concern creeping into his voice. "Wait — Bell — Mr Rider isn't gonna blame me for this, is he?"

Bell laughed so suddenly and so hard she had to brace herself on her knees, tears forming in the corners of her eyes. Dave looked like he might bolt at any second.

"No, no — sorry, Dave," she said, catching her breath. "I'm Mrs Rider. It'll be fine. Don't worry about it."

That didn't exactly calm Dave down, but he nodded anyway.

"We'll follow you down," Bell added, wiping her face and already turning back toward the ute. "I'll explain everything."

Dave hesitated a second longer, then gave a resigned nod. "Right, well… see you at the house then, Mrs Rider."

Bell waved as she walked away, then called back over her shoulder with a grin, "Just call me Bell, Dave. We'll see you there!"

Dave's sense of foreboding only deepened as his semi rumbled along the narrow dirt track. When the house finally came into view—a large Queenslander raised high on wooden stilts—his unease turned to quiet disbelief. Two men were unloading a smaller flatbed truck out front, surrounded by all sorts of gear and supplies. There was a rough gravel clearing around the house, and Dave guided his rig onto it before stepping out of the cab.

The taller and more solidly built of the two men broke away from unloading and walked over, eyeing the massive excavator on Dave's trailer.

"Damn," the man whistled, squinting up at the oversized machine. "That's a bit bigger than I thought it'd be when I organised it over the phone."

Dave held out a hand. "I'm Dave, from DCE Transport Services."

The man shook it firmly. "Zane. Thanks for being so quick with it."

"I was told you paid extra for priority delivery."

Zane shrugged. "Yeah, that's true—but still, thanks."

Dave glanced back down the road. "About your front fence—"

Before he could finish, Bell approached, her expression casual as she explained to Zane how they'd torn out one of the gateposts to let the truck through.

To Dave's astonishment, Zane just grinned. "Well, ork balls—I completely forgot about that! Thank the System you were there to help out."

Turning back to Dave, Zane asked, "So, do you need a hand unloading her?"

Dave shook his head. "No, that's okay, Mr Wal—Zane. I just need to see your excavator license and have you sign this paperwork, and I can unload it by myself."

Zane paused for just a moment, his expression unreadable. "Dave, I… don't actually know where my license is. It's sort of gone missing somehow. But don't panic—it's all good. I'm sure they've got a copy at the office."

Then, before Dave could say anything, Zane reached into his pocket and pulled out five crisp $100 notes. "Here's a tip—for being so fast with the delivery. Why don't you give them a ring while I finish unloading my truck?"

Without waiting for a response, Zane turned back to the smaller flatbed, bent down, and casually picked up four bags of dry cement—two in each hand—then walked off toward the other side of the house like he was carrying grocery bags.

Dave just stood there, staring down at the unexpected $500 in his hand, then at the man now disappearing around the corner like a bloody Terminator. He'd been a man of hard labour most of his life—he knew exactly how heavy those bags were.

He pulled out his phone to call the office, but saw the "No Reception" message blinking back at him. Of course.

He took a long breath and tried to think it through.

It's my word against theirs about the gate. And who the hell wrecks their own fence like that? I've got the money. He's crazy strong. This whole place looks a bit mad. Where are the stairs to the house?

Dave cast one more look around the oddly fortified property.

Okay, Dave, he told himself. Just say you saw the license, unload the machine, and get the hell out of here.