"Welcome, Crawler. Welcome to the First Floor." It sounded like some over-the-top announcer at the state fair, matched by words floating before my eyes. More text appeared in the corner of my screen, a timer that said 4 days, 23 hours, and 14 minutes.

  I shuddered, looking down a huge hallway that was wider than the road I'd just left. It was paved with little stone squares, stone walls decorated weird little torches, like this were some faux-medieval castle. Lacie shifted behind me, then slipped and fell, landing with a grunt.

  The door slammed shut. I jerked, looking back, and heard a grunt and a thud as Lacie fell off the bike behind me. I started moving gingerly, knowing my legs had been so overworked they were sure to seize up, but no pain came. My legs were fine.

  "I carefully got off the bike, staring down at my completely-rested legs." I reached down, massaging one thigh, just to check I could feel the touch.

  "Are you alright? That ride, that was amazing. I was certain I was going to die in the cold, but now it's warm." She audibly swallowed. "I mean, I feel like I'm still gonna die, but not from hypothermia."

  "Maddy?"

  "I'm fine, I just—" I shook my head. My legs were fine. That's good. "Yeah, I'm fine." I stood, looked down to offer a hand, and found that she'd un-snapped the jacket, giving me an angle down her exquisite cleavage.

  Smiling, Lacie reached up, grabbed my hand from my side, and pulled herself up. It was only then that I noticed she'd been wearing a slit midi-dress with her stompy boots. That was almost as distracting as the, uh, upper view. It also had to have been freezing, that exposed skin getting wind across it for nearly an hour of desperate biking.

  "We should get going," Lacie prompted, and I realized I'd been staring, again.

  "Should we?" I asked. "Is it safe to?"

  "Well, the voice said to find a training room, so let's find a training room."

  "Can we trust it, though?"

  Lacie shrugged. "Probably not, but if it wanted us dead, we'd just be dead. Let's go."

  I picked up the bike, walking it beside me, and followed Lacie in. The doors slammed shut, missing the rear tire by inches.

  "Why did it say it was the 'first' floor?" I asked.

  "It was in the part of that first announcement that said it was really important. Eighteen floors, and the first's only open for five days, and if we're not down another floor by then we die." Lacie said.

  "Oh, sorry. Yes, dungeon world, eighteen floors, floor one, training room, five days, keep going down."

  Lacie was staring at me like I'd been staring at her.

  "What?"

  She pointed above my head. "Are you seeing weird words over me?"

  Just as Lacie asked that, words did pop up.

  Crawler #9,283,417 Lucille Stevenson 2

  Level 1.

  Race: Human.

  Class: Not yet assigned.

  "Are we in some sort of video game?" I asked.

  "Isekai!" She shouted, doing a little hop which, for obvious reasons, distracted me. When my focus vanished, or maybe just when I stopped looking over her head, the words vanished. "Sorry. I shouldn't be excited. I'm just on edge, and it was something that made sense, and I'm sorry."

  She had shouted. And we were in a video game dungeon. Probably a bad idea. "What's isekai mean?"

  "It's a type of story where you get sucked into a video game, like Sword Art Online."

  I stared a moment, the words reappearing. "We should find that training room."

  As if waiting for us to finish talking, the voice returned as we turned towards the dungeon. You've been designated Crawler Number 9,283,418. You have been assigned the name Crawler Madison Pomegranate. You are assigned the race of Human. You are currently one level 1. You may choose a new race and class as soon as you descend to the third floor. Your stat points have been assigned based on your current physical and mental profile. See the stat menu for more details.

  I hated my last name. It's too weird for a small town. I was "Fruit Girl" for three years, before people started caring about my performance in middle-school sports.

  Congratulations! You've earned your first achievement: No brakes.

  You never slowed down on the ramp and hit the bottom at twenty-nine miles per hour. The brakes are on the handlebars. Squeeze down on that little lever thingy.

  Reward: You've received a Bronze Adventurer Box!

  New Achievement! Baggage.

  You brought someone else in like luggage on the rear of your bike. Don't worry, I'm sure they won't slow you down. To help drag around all that soon-to-be-dead weight, here's a prize!

  Reward: You've received a Bronze Adventurer Box!

  New Achievement! Unarmed combat. So. You just gonna waltz right into something called a "World Dungeon" and you're not even going to bring a weapon? You're either braver than you look, or you're just an idiot. Good luck with that, Van Damme. Reward: You've received a Bronze Weapon Box!

  "Did you just have a bunch of achievements?" I asked.

  "It is an isekai," Lacie said. "One of my achievements was, 'You've got a word for this'."

  "Awesome. Does that help?"

  "Uh, the achievement said, 'This won't help you because the rules aren't the same as those dumb shows you watch.' Apparently, it thinks I should have been working out like you do."

  "But this tutorial club will help, so let's go."

  "Guild," she said.

  "Oh, yeah."

  We started walking again, getting to an intersection. The huge hallway we were in kept going straight, with a narrower hallway crossing it. Perfectly perpendicular, like a video-game dungeon. "Which way."

  Lacey shrugged and went straight again. We reached a second intersection, seeing a sign to the left that said "Petting Zoo". To the right, darkness loomed, no torches in sight.

  "I think the petting zoo is a trap," Lacey said.

  "And I am not walking into utter darkness," I said.

  We kept going, walking the bike between us. At the third intersection, Lacey looked left and I looked right. She shouted, "That's the tutorial—" then cut off as I shoved her flat.

  New Achievement! Baggage Claim.

  You saved your baggage from being swiped. Don't worry, I'm sure you won't lose track of her in the next few minutes.

  Reward: You've received a Bronze Adventurer Box!

  I'd seen a glint of motion in the dark, moving by instinct as it lunged. The beast that loomed over us had bulging muscles that strained at a hole-filled, dirty sweater. His narrow, ratlike snout was wet with drool.

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  Rat-kin Brute. Level 5. The steroids haven't done wonders for his brain, but this thing can rip you in half without trying. Usually, a level five beast like this would be further in dungeon, but a half-dozen crawlers came through before you and drew these out by getting eaten. Sucks to be over nine million.

  I scrambled to my feet. To my left, four sets of beady eyes gleamed faintly in the dark, a stench of rot wafting forth. I focused on the brute, who turned towards Lacie instead of me.

  "No!" I screamed, darting forward and hitting at it as it raised its arm. I'm not sure what instinct took control there, but instead of punching it or kicking it, I slapped it on the back of the head like I was pointing out it was stupid.

  New Achievement! Are You Suicidal?

  You just intentionally caught the attention of a creature five times your level. I know you're only level one so it doesn't take much to reach five times your level, but that's still some powerful-stupid behavior.

  Reward: You've received a Silver Adventurer Box!

  The brute squared his shoulders, showing off traps you could land airplanes on. He didn't turn too quickly, and I didn't try to rush him along. My eyes kept darting to Lacie, willing her to get the hell up and run. She was staring at the brute, blinking, but seemed to figure things out after a moment.

  As she shifted into a kneeling position, more beady-eyed beasts slunk from the shadows. They, fortunately, also had their eyes on me, not Lacie.

  Rat-kin Sniveller. Level 1. There aren't many things weaker than a rat-kin sniveller. Maybe an actual rat, as long as it's not too big. If you can't fight these, there's no hope for you.

  The game might say that, but these rat-kin almost as big as me. The brute was easily a foot taller than I was. I should maybe explain that I'm five-six, about bit above average for a woman. In her stompy-boots, Lacie is the same height as me.

  Oddly, the rat-kin were dressed in patchy clothes, like they'd just come down the stairs like I had. It was the sort of ragged, dirty clothing you see on news programs trying to make Detroit look like a hell-hole where you'll be eaten by meth-heads.

  The towering brute said, "Yo, girlie, you like the view. It'll be tha last ya see. I'mma take your money, then I'mma pulp you down and blend you into a protein smoothie."

  I felt my heart pounding, my breath racing like I was about to hyperventilate, and instinctively fell back on breathing exercises. Proper breathing helped oxygen reach the muscles and was essential to any athletic activity. I'd started practicing it intentionally while training for a triathlon when I was fourteen. "Yeah, that so, big guy? Uh, you won't cause... well I'm bad at insults, but... Lacie, run!"

  She'd just gotten her feet under her, and when I yelled, she sprinted. The brute spun and I threw my beanie at him, the black fleece cap covering his eyes.

  With a warcry of, "Spare some change?" the smaller rats lunged. I sidestepped one, then dove past another and rolled to my feet. I saw a flicker, like one of those achievements had been granted, but it just darted up to the corner of my vision.

  Anyone paying attention to the layout may realize how thoroughly I had just screwed myself over. Lacie was running down a hallway to what she implied was a Tutorial Guild entrance—I still hadn't seen it, as I was wholly focused on a roid-raging rat-kin that wanted to make me into a protein smoothie—and to keep the rats away from her I'd backed away from where she was. Then, when they rushed me, I dodged past them. This left these five rat-kin between me and Lacie. I was, in fact, entirely in the dark hallway they'd come out of, and behind me was the stench off trash.

  You've gained a skill level!

  Dodge Level 1.

  The time-honored art of diving out of the way so someone else takes the hit.

  Each level of this skill increases you odds of evading an attack, provided it's possible to do so.

  I tried to ignore the text on screen, eyes on the brute. It moved towards me, away from Lacie. I ran. "I'll get back to you, Lacie!" I yelled as I plunged into the blackness.

  I made it maybe six steps before tripping over something. The sound of footsteps was closing in, so I rolled sideway before I jumped up. A grunt like some douche dropping his weights after a heavy set sounded just before wood splintered where I'd been lying. I was already running again. I had my hands out, sweeping before me wildly, hoping I'd find a way through the black. I cut my hand on what felt like a nail, thinking about tetanus as an achievement disappeared into the corner.

  Painful cut aside, having my hands out helped. I managed to stumble and not fall when I hit what I think was a propped-up pallet. As I rushed deeper into the darkness, my eyes adjusted. I couldn't see much more than vague silhouettes, but that was a huge improvement. I was still stumbling, and a moment later I felt a hand slap at my pony-tail and tear a few hairs loose. I wasn't caught, though.

  My stumbling flight, punctuated by a mad leap whenever the idiotic brute telegraphed his next swipe with a grunt, got past some garbage bags and a dumpster, then I tripped over a waist-high barrier that I hadn't noticed because it spanned the entire hallway so there was no break in the silhouette.

  I went down rolling, feet up as stuff leapt at me. One sniveller, also tripping over his own barricade, came in slashing and left a bloody slice in my shoulder. Another burst through some gap I hadn't seen and dug those huge front-teeth rats have into my thigh, fortunately not deeply, and another went high and flipped past to land on his back as I kicked him over.

  "I only need a few bucks," came from the last guy as he went over me. Whatever this place was, it was seriously weird.

  I rolled aside, letting out a scream as rolling into the biting rat ripped his teeth from my thigh, then stumbled into motion. They had to be right behind me, so when I took that first limping step, I simply told my body that pain was an illusion. I've run with leg cramps worse than my worst period, I could run with a rat-bite.

  I made the pain of each step part of the rhythm of the moment. Breath in, feel a painful step, feel a regular step, breath out, more pain, continue. I tripped but didn't fall on another broken pallet, then saw a hint of light ahead. I sped up.

  "Good fuckin' luck, bitch!" roared the brute. This worried me, but not enough to stop me.

  As his roar echoed, a woman's voice said, rather calmly, Hello, Crawlers! The dungeon is now sealed. She went into detail, but I was entirely focused on keeping moving.

  When the woman ended with, I wish you all good luck and a happy crawl, I found that I hated her.

  I sprinted onwards, into the light. It was a homeless encampment, or a parody of one. Wooden pallets were everywhere, tied to tarps and random bits of metal to make tiny little huts where the rat-kin huddled. The snivellers asking for money was because they were supposed to be homeless, portrayed in the most hamfisted way possible. Why would aliens make something like this?

  There had to be like a hundred shanties in the cavernous chamber, scattered about the edges with a dense cluster in the center. As I stepped into the light, hideous rat-kin heads peered out of every single one. At a glance, they looked like snivellers, and all I did was glance before I started running.

  I couldn't go back, but there were two other exits from the room. I juked one rat-kin, dropped into a slide between two shanties and under the lunging arms of their occupants, popping up to vault over the next shanty along that wall. As I landed, my eyes landed on a dead-eyed, scrawny rat-kin lady, just a pace away.

  Rat-kin Junkie. Level 3. She just shot-up, and she's not feeling anything. Not feeling makes it easier to pay her dealer, if you know what I mean. Not feeling anything also makes it easier for her to ignore it when you hit her, as if you would actually hit her. Seriously, how have you not hurt something yet?

  Junkie. Fine. Probably just a slow rat-kin. I rushed her, spun out of her reach, and kept going. It felt like I was making progress, but I kept choosing the easy route, and I realized that the easy route was edging me towards the center of the room.

  My cursory glance had told me the center of the room was like the rest, the shanties just a bit denser. Dodging away from another sniveller claw, I got a better look and realized I was wrong. It was an amalgamation of many shanties into one huge tent, and the entrances at the sides sloped down, so it was even bigger than it looked.

  Whatever that thing was, I didn't want to be inside of it.

  Feeling fear press against my focus, I concentrated on my breathing while I ran a bit closer in, as though I was letting them herd me. People make mistakes when they thought they were winning; that's why so many games have surprise comebacks.

  Another wide dodge, in towards the center, and I saw an opening. Even as I thought that, it seemed mad. Ten minutes ago, that "opening" would seem impossibly stupid, but I felt like I had figured out the rhythm of these things, the pattern to how they swiped, like how the brute would grunt before he swung and the snivellers would ask for money after they attacked.

  I juked, sprinted straight at a cluster of snivellers, and dropped low, stopping as fast as I could. As they lunged at where I wasn't, I rushed a brute. This one was even bigger than the last, a tattered, once-white t-shirt stretched taut across rippling muscles. Both arms went up ready for a two-fisted flam. It didn't matter if that sort of swing had no leverage, not when his biceps were as thick as my chest.

  I just had to make sure he didn't hit me. I grabbed onto one of the snivellers that had just lunged, feeling something twitching about as my fingers latched onto his ear. With his weight to help, I went from a quick sprint to a dead stop in seconds. The brute's fists slammed down. My toes stung, his blow hitting the very tip of one shoe, the fabric pinching my feet as it tore.

  As the brute lifted his arms, I stepped onto his forearm and launched myself. I'd hoped to come down in a smooth roll, but instead I crashed back-first through an empty shack, a blue tarp wrapping about me as a rush of achievements flashed into the corner of my sight.

  I flailed for a moment, got the tarp out of my eyes, and lunged for freedom. The rat-kin were moving behind me, but they weren't in reach. I went to a dead sprint, slowing only for two quick vaults of shacks in the way. Behind me, I heard shacks being crushed as snivellers wailed, "Just a dollar, I'll use it for food, I promise," and a brute yelled, "Gimme your cash, you bitch."

  I barely slowed as I entered the dark, but luckily whatever exit I was taking was less dark and less cluttered than the one I'd entered through. A minute later, I was jogging down a wide hallway, the rat-kin behind me giving up and falling back.