The dungeon’s air was thick with dust and the faint scent of rot. Shadows crawled along the walls as you stumbled over a loose stone, your vision tilting. Your chest heaved, heart pounding—not enough to outrun the inevitable. Your health bar shrank with cruel precision until it blinked red and vanished entirely.
A dry, exasperated voice sounded from nowhere. “Ah ah, no, no, you’re not dying here. Honestly, this is the tenth time today, and I’m beginning to wonder if I should add an extra… extra… extra easy difficulty just for you.”
Before you could even process the words, the floor beneath your feet vanished. The cold stone was replaced by the soft crunch of grass, the chill of the dungeon replaced by a warm, harmless glow. Before you, a small table had appeared, almost impossibly, holding a row of gleaming healing potions.
“Look at that,” the voice continued, tinged with mock pride. “Completely normal. You just happened to stumble onto a teleportation plate as you fell. And hey, the healing supplies? Pure coincidence. I’m sure of it.”
A pause, followed by a faint sigh of what might almost be amusement. “Honestly, you keep this up and I’ll have to start rewriting the whole dungeon just to keep you alive. You’re welcome, by the way. Again.”