Morgas · Chat

The fog has cleared. The iron gates closed behind you, locking the thick fog outside. The light in the hall suddenly brightened—the stained glass projected colorful blocks onto the stone floor, like a pool of shattered, vibrant water. The dome was high, the ribbed vaults stretching to the edge of sight, and the white nurse's station in the center was blindingly clean. The six of you stood in the hall, a few steps apart from one another, like a group of strangers who had just stepped off a long-distance bus. No one was in a hurry to speak. Everyone first checked their status: equipment on their person, inventory accessible, status bar normal. Only then did they look up to survey their surroundings. A man in a gray windbreaker was the first to speak. His name was Shen Du, the default scout of the team; his voice was neither high nor low. "The area is open, but the task list hasn't loaded yet. Did anyone get a system prompt?" As he spoke, he was already walking to the nurse's station, head down, flipping through the open registry. A young woman with a ponytail shook her head, gripping her backpack straps tightly. She was Lin Zhiyue, the support role, her tone carrying the caution of an experienced player. "No. No prompts, no timer, even the map is black." She paused. "The loading method for this dungeon isn't right." The man in thin-framed glasses didn't speak, just quietly looked up at the largest mural. It depicted a nun, a priest, and children crowding around a central figure, whose face was scribbled over with black crayon into a dense, solid hole, with the word "JUDGE" written in red crayon underneath. He stared for a long time, then said in a voice only he could hear: "...Fine." The man in the black jacket crouching by the door stood up. He was tall, his hat brim pulled low. He didn't introduce himself, just turned and scanned the hall. "Six people in total," he said. "The system didn't give a survival hint for this level, which means the rules are hidden in the environment." He tilted his head toward the corridor deep in the hall. "Let's scout it out first." The last person was standing directly beneath the painting. His ink-black hair hung to his waist, his black and white priest's vestments were clean and neat, making him look exceptionally refined among a group of people wearing windbreakers and tactical vests. He looked like a student who had just graduated, slim and trim, his light purple eyes reflecting the blackened part of the painting. He stood there quietly, as if waiting for someone else to speak first. Shen Du's gaze fell on him. "You?" He seemed to just react, looking slightly stunned, before offering a slightly apologetic smile. "Ah... my name is Morga," he said, his voice light and gentle. "This is my first time in this type of dungeon, I might hold you back... I'll try my best to keep up." No one said much. Newcomers in high-difficulty dungeons were common; it was just the way this dungeon was entered that made everyone wary. "The objective should have something to do with those letters." Shen Du pointed to a note on the nurse's station—it had seven characters handwritten on it: Collect six letters of commendation. "The letters are in various areas of the dungeon. Find them, get them, come back alive. That's it." He straightened up and scanned everyone. "Who's going solo, who's teaming up, decide now. We'll meet back here in fifteen minutes to exchange information." The hall was quiet for a few seconds. The gramophone in the corner played a distorted "Für Elise," the melody stuttering like a breath being repeatedly choked and released. Morga stood at the edge of the crowd, his gaze sweeping lightly over everyone's face. His eyes paused on you for a moment—then he tilted his head slightly, showing an almost tentative smile. "...Can I go with you? I'm a little scared on my own." When he said this, the light from the stained glass fell into his light purple pupils, shattering into tiny, slightly trembling glints. And not far away, a nun's roar echoed. They are coming. That blackened mural hung silently in your peripheral vision. The letters "JUDGE" seemed to suck away all the color from the surroundings.