"Good," Qevran said, his eyes glowing with renewed focus. "Let’s get to work. We have a dungeon to save."The transition from the grand, cold throne room into the subterranean depths of the goblin quarters felt like stepping into a dumpster fire. The air was thick with the scent of damp moss, unwashed green skin, and something that smelled suspiciously like rotting mushrooms.Qevran paced through the cramped, low-ceilinged tunnels, his corporeal projection flickering as he navigated the uneven floor. He stopped in front of a pile of discarded rusted iron scraps, where a goblin with a noticeably jagged ear was currently trying to sharpen a toothpick on a piece of slate."Drazek, was it?" Qevran asked, looking down at the creature.The goblin jumped, nearly stabbing himself with the toothpick. "Boss! You scared me. Yeah, that’s me. Drazek Solvar. You need something moved? Or, uh, buried?"Qevran sighed, rubbing his temples. "I need something organized. Look at this place. It’s a literal

The carnage on the threshold of the dungeon was glorious—in an economic sense, at least. The knight lay splayed against the far wall, his plate armor melted and fused to the flagstones by the slimes’ highly acidic secretion. The priestess was unconscious, her staff discarded, while the mage and rogue were busy trying to scrape the sticky, translucent sludge from their boots.Qevran hovered over the scene, his core pulsing a steady, satisfied gold. "Look at that, Drazek. Look at the efficiency. We didn't even have to use a single fireball spell."Drazek, standing beside the throne with his slate, was frantically scratching tally marks. "Boss, the armor! It’s all... everywhere. The rogue is tripping over a breastplate, and the mage just got his robe caught on a spiked boot. It’s a mess. My floor-cleaning budget is going to hit the roof trying to scrape all this metal out of the hallway.""Forget the budget for a moment," Qevran muttered, his eyes narrowing as he zoomed in on the mess. "

The shadow of the main gate loomed over the stone corridors, a dark mouth that seemed to swallow the flickering light of Qevran’s core. Zorven Dask, the disgraced former captain, moved with the quiet, predatory grace of someone who knew every blind spot in the dungeon’s perimeter. He wasn't alone; a handful of disgruntled ex-guards trailed behind him, their armor dull, their eyes hungry for the revenge they felt they were owed.Qevran watched them through the flickering interface, his pulse rate spiking. "Drazek, he’s heading for the archives," he commanded, his voice vibrating with suppressed fury. "If he touches that ledger, he’ll destroy every record of my performance metrics. The Syndicate will have all the leverage they need.""Boss, he’s got a key to the secure archive!" Drazek squeaked, his hands fumbling with his slate. "I didn't think he remembered where he hid it!""He’s not just a thief; he’s an architect of this place’s downfall," Qevran growled. "Othven! Get to the admini

The ground didn’t just shake; it groaned, a deep, tectonic protest that vibrated through Qevran’s very core. Massive chunks of masonry rained down from the ceiling, slamming into the dais and turning his once-pristine throne room into a minefield of falling debris."Boss! The structural integrity! It’s plummeting!" Drazek shrieked, diving under the heavy oak desk that held the primary ledger. "We’re losing the western quadrant! The walls are bowing!"Qevran flickered, his golden light struggling to maintain a coherent shape as dust choked the air. "I see it, Drazek! Stop screaming and look at the sensor arrays. Where is the shift concentrated?""Everywhere! The whole foundation is shifting!" Drazek poked his head out, his eyes wide and panicked. "Wait—look at the floor! The cracks are forming a pattern. It’s not just a collapse, it’s an opening!""Opening? What kind of opening?" Qevran hovered, his violet light searing through the gloom as he traced the tremors. "We didn't build down