Chapter 1: Chapter 1: Arrival

The speaker on the high roof buzzed. "Calling for assistance on aisle 17. A disorderly customer..." The rest of the announcement blurred into white noise, shutting off after a moment.

Henry pushed one of the forklift's levers forward, dropping a loaded pallet onto a rack. It was probably just another homeless person, but he would check things out to be sure.

He turned the vehicle around and started toward the opposite end of the massive store. In times past, he would have found comfort in the soft murmur of voices, the occasional squeak of a shoe or jingle from a fellow employee's keys. Not today.

Henry owed some people a lot of money.

He tried to push those thoughts away as he drove the forklift along the back wall of the warehouse store. Yellow sacks of dog food passed him by. A long stretch of slate grey floor stretched out before him. The roof was high and dark, supported by exposed metal beams. And most prominent were the pallet racks. The well-stocked shelves towered nearly as high as the roof, spaced at regular intervals.

Shopmart was the most popular store of its kind in the US. For that reason, it was very corporate and the wages were awful.

Even working full time here, combined with his work as a handyman, he wasn't making enough to keep the collectors happy. How long before they sent a thug to break his leg?

An elderly woman with curly white hair rounded a corner ahead. She turned his way. Henry pressed the brake, taking the forklift to a slow walking pace.

He noted the tan Chihuahua sitting in the cart's seat. It had a pink shirt engraved with 'princess' on the chest, and it wore a skirt too. It made him feel warm and fuzzy for a moment. He would have liked to hold the pup, but he wasn't about to ask such a thing in public.

He smiled as big as he was tall. "Need anything, miss?" he said deeply.

"Oh! Me? I uh..." Her eyes grew dark and distant, brows pulling down and together.

A flash of pain bounced through Henry, striking old wounds. The woman's confused look reminded him of his grandmother toward her end.

The woman's head snapped back at him, a wrinkled smile reaching for her eyes. "After today, I won't be needing much of anything. Nobody will!"

He laughed once out of discomfort. "Why's that? Is it the end of the world?"

"No," she said. "I'm going to die."

He blinked. Some people had an odd sense of humor. "You're far too young to have such thoughts," Henry said. "I bet you'll live to a hundred."

"What I say has little to do with my age."

Henry slowed further, almost coming to a stop. The Chihuahua jumped to the edge of the cart, snarling at him.

"What do you mean? If you don't mind me asking."

The woman's eyes had turned jet black. She looked up through the ceiling as if seeing something. "They'll be coming soon! Six o'clock." She giggled.

"Who?"

Slowly the corners of her lips turned down into a frown, eyes lightening to a dark brown. She blinked in confusion at Henry. "Excuse me," she said, pushing her cart forward with a straight face.

"Are you sure you're okay, miss? I could call someone if you need."

She looked back at him. "I'm not that old." She huffed, chin raised, her lips pursed with distaste.

What a bizarre shift in attitude. It felt like he'd encountered two different people. Could be dementia. He would circle back to the entrance to make sure she made it out alright. Should she even be driving?

He noticed his white-knuckled grip. He released his hold on the steering wheel with a big sigh. Why was he putting more stress on himself? He couldn't take anymore.

He pulled up his watch.

5:55 P.M.

The woman wasn't right in her mind. But still... He felt uneasy as the clock ticked forward.

As he drove onward, he realized where he was. He blinked away his drowsiness, rubbing a hand down his face and through his short brown beard.

He shifted in his seat to look back. He looked all around. He was alone now. Henry slowed behind one of the tall racks and placed the forklift in park. This was one of the only locations in the store where cameras could not see.

Henry felt the shape of a hidden flask beneath the rough surface of his right jean pocket. He shouldn't be doing this, but the 22 missed voicemails on his phone urged him onward. Dept. Failure. Pain. His blood pulsed in his ears, heart thumping in his chest. Forgive me, Father, he thought.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a silver flask.

He quickly raised it to his lips, savoring the whisky flowing into his mouth and burning down his throat.

He heard approaching voices from the aisle ahead. Eyes popping from his skull, Henry lowered the flask quickly. His trembling hand twisted the lid and shoved the flask into his pocket.

A single drop of whisky soaked his grey jeans, bleeding outward within the stretched material that held his thickly muscled legs. Just great. He'd have to rinse that out in the bathroom. If his manager caught the slightest whiff... He popped a piece of minty gum into his mouth just as the source of the commotion came into view.

Two young adults. They looked 19 or 20 perhaps.

The girl had pink hair to her shoulders, a black choker necklace, and a skirt so short it revealed the bottom of her... She was fighting with the young man.

He had a cocky grin as he held a smartphone out of reach.

"Give it back!" she said. "You can't read that!"

"I'm not the one who is going to read it," the boy said with a devilish grin.

The girl's eyes widened with horror.

"The sullen wind passed through the willow tree like a wave, carrying Lavender's tears like a..." the boy read aloud.

The girl strained to grab the phone, her lips pulled back in a sneer, tears forming in her eyes. "Please stop," she cried. "Don't post it."

The black-haired boy acted like he was going to hand it back. Right when her fingers brushed the bottom, he jerked it away, quickly raising his other hand.

Based on the blue and white screen, it was Socialbook. The boy pressed post. He handed the phone back with a cruel smile, then sauntered away.

Henry clenched his large fists. Don't get involved, he told himself. His father had been the perfect community image, but behind closed doors, he had belittled Henry's mother. On two occasions he had slapped her.

Two was infinitely more than Henry could accept. Or forgive.

Mascara streaming down her pretty face, the girl stood behind, quickly typing into her phone. She froze with discomfort, slowly looking up to meet his gaze.

Henry shifted in his seat.

Her blue eyes pierced into him. "What are you looking at?"

He cleared his throat. "Nothing. I was just wondering if you need anything."

"Yeah. A new life," she said, then walked away after her boyfriend, bracelets jangling.

How could she follow him after that? Curious. And maybe irrationally protective, Henry put the forklift in drive, rolling up behind them a good distance away.

A Hispanic man wearing a cowboy hat walked their way, a pistol strapped to his waist. It was Texas, after all. Henry nodded at the man just as he passed the young couple.

What time was it? Henry raised his watch. The clock ticked up from 5:59 to 6:00 P.M.

It would be silly to believe anything was going to-

Something buzzed in his ears.

The girl smacked her head. The cowboy waved past his face as if shooing away a fly, but it wasn't a bug. The sound grew louder, slowly turning into a high-pitched whine.

Henry slammed on the brakes as his mind screamed. The cowboy, the couple, and a few others beyond all grabbed their skulls, some of them collapsing to the floor. As the pain grew, he swore something dug around in his skull.

Forearms bulging, he gripped the wheel, then slumped against it. Darkness took him.

***

Henry awoke to the silent hum of the overhead lights. The pink-haired girl lay on the floor along with everyone else.

He shot a look at the entrance. Was this some kind of terrorist attack? There were no signs of an explosion or gunfire.

Maybe it was an accident. He hadn't smelled gas, but some fumes were odorless. There must have been a rupture in an underground gas pipe, and those toxic fumes had made their way into the store. Yes. The elderly woman had acted strangely because she was suffering early symptoms of poisoning. Henry dampened his shirt with bottled water and lifted it to his mouth as he made his way to the young woman.

Her chest rose and fell. Good.

He looked back at his forklift. He could cart a few of them out of here. Better not to expose them to the gas any longer than needed. It must have subsided for the moment, allowing him to wake up, but that didn't mean it wouldn't return.

What if it was going to return? What if it pulled him into a deep sleep he would never wake from?

The danger of the situation dawned on him. What was he doing standing around? Henry ran over to the forklift, and hopped into the seat. Although it only went 15 MPH, that was faster than he could run. If he sped out of here now, he could almost guarantee his survival.

He froze with his shoe over the gas pedal. The girl stirred in her sleep. He recalled her earlier show of passion. There was something in this world that she cared about more than anything he ever had. Could he leave her behind to die? Let her dreams be smothered by his cowardice? As his panic subsided, he realized that no, he couldn't. Not when there were no clear signs of danger. It was safe enough to help.

The speaker buzzed above. Henry waited in tense silence.

"Do not exit the store. The system will soon commence. Do not..." The lights of the store flickered. The entire place fell into pitch blackness, then hummed back to half-brightness. A shadow seeped in through the ceiling. Henry squinted. It drifted slowly, long dark tendrils drifting behind it like Cthulhu's tentacles. The lights flared to full brightness casting it away.

Great. Now he was hallucinating. Either it was an aftereffect, or the poisonous fumes were returning. Regardless of what the PSA said about staying indoors, every instinct in his body said to get outside where there was fresh air.

Henry pulled out his phone. There was no cell service or Wi-Fi. Why would the cell towers be shut off for a gas leak?

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Not fully understanding the situation, he strapped himself in and drove the forks into an empty pallet. Then he circled over to where the girl lay beside her jerk of a boyfriend.

He walked over to the girl first. It made him uncomfortable, but he knelt down and tucked one arm under the crook of her knees, the other behind her back.

"I'm sorry," Henry said. "I would have preferred your permission." He stood to his feet.

Drooling against his chest, she muttered something incoherent. She smelled of cinnamon and spice. Henry outstretched his large arms, lying her gently across the pallet.

He placed the young man and the cowboy up on the pallet too.

Henry raced toward the exit at exactly 15 MPH, the shelves of the aisle towering on either side. Up ahead, a pool of blood expanded beside an abandoned cart. The little dog, Princess, sat in the seat shivering. Where was the woman?

The engine wound down as he pulled to a stop. "What happened, Princess?"

The dog lifted her lip as he neared, but Henry scooped her up anyway, Princess releasing a disappointed whine that her attempts to intimidate him hadn't succeeded further.

"Hush now," Henry said.

Something warm trickled down his arm and onto his leg. Princess was peeing on him. Henry quickly held her down above the floor, letting her finish. "Maybe next time you can let me know when you need to go," he said.

Princess sagged with relief.

Sitting her on his lap, he continued onward.

Toward the end of the aisle, he slowed down and hopped out of the vehicle. So much that his large body could manage, he hunched down and stalked up to the edge. Isabella, one of the food testing ladies, lay slumped over the front of a table.

Henry scanned the open expanse containing various tables and shelves. His face paled. There were dozens of people lying on the floor. What if they were dead? He needed to get out of here! ...get them out of here.

He bumped the box behind him, nearly causing a domino effect. He muttered to himself. This wasn't the time to be lumbering around like a big idiot.

He strode back to the vehicle, then slowly drove around people, sometimes having to find another way as the bodies and carts formed a complete barricade.

Many of them breathed. Some did not. He tried to contain his emotions as he neared the exit. Something moved in the corner of his vision. He turned.

The elderly woman disappeared behind a shelve. Henry opened his mouth to speak, but his voice caught in his throat. There had been far too much blood at the scene. She couldn't be walking around. And yet her body had been missing. Christ, was he really afraid of an old woman?

"Miss!" he called out.

No response came.

Henry pressed the gas, driving far enough to peer down the aisle she had walked down. But there was no one. So much that he wanted to help her, a deep primal fear drove him back toward the entrance.

The late afternoon sun blasted the black pavement, the trim of cars and trucks shining under its wrath. He slowed as he neared the exit. The forklift was too tall to drive through.

The door made a familiar ding each time he carried one of them out. He stood there breathing, all three of his rescues laying side by side, Princess sitting on the forklift seat. A couple trails of smoke rose above distant suburban homes, car alarms sounded, and there wasn't a moving car on the roads or a plane in the sky. More bodies though.

"Hello!" the words boomed like thunder from the sky. They breathed life back into the world. Stirred people from their slumber.

"What the hell..." the pink-haired girl groaned, blinking up into the sun. She frowned, looking up at Henry. "You? What are you doing to us!"

"I-" Henry started.

"People of Earth!" the woman's voice said from above. The words also appeared as floating black text. "You have been selected to join the Deep System. Every supermarket, warehouse store, shop, and place of service on the entire planet will be combined to form the Retail Dungeon. Relevant locations will be marked blue. Non-relevant will turn red. If you're not inside a blue location within two minutes, starting now, we cannot guarantee your survival!"

1 minute 57 seconds remaining!

A blue holographic glow surrounded Shopmart. Those distant homes turned red.

Henry tried his phone again. He needed to warn his brother, but there was still no service. Hopefully, Richard had seen and heard the same message.

Someone bumped him from behind. He shuffled out of the way, frowning. People were spilling from the entrance. Why were they going outside? Didn't they hear the...

A glowing display formed at the edges of his vision. It reminded him of one of those video games he never played. One icon flashed with a number beside it. When he focused on it, a list of notifications opened up. It was the same text that the voice had spoken. He gave the words a second read.

To go inside meant staying somewhere dangerous if the phrase 'dungeon' was any indicator. Would it be like a medieval torture dungeon or the kind with whips and chains? Henry grimaced. Neither sounded pleasant.

But if he left, the message said his survival was not guaranteed. Henry tried to imagine a bunch of stores combining. Would they fly through the air or teleport? If this was some kind of divine or alien force, he leaned toward teleportation. But where would they teleport to, and how would that affect the people that stayed outside?

Tires screeched as people sped away. Other vehicles came barreling into the parking lot. A dark sedan connected with a fleeing truck, spinning out both vehicles.

The cowboy stood by Henry's side. "This sounds crazy, man! What is a dungeon supposed to mean? Like a medieval dungeon?"

"I don't know," Henry said.

The pink-haired girl paused by the entrance. "It means like an MMO. Haven't you ever read a LitRPG?"

Henry shared a glance with the cowboy.

The girl rolled her eyes, stalking inside.

The boyfriend came from behind, grabbing her wrist. "And how could you be so stupid to want to go into the dungeon!"

Riley, as indicated by the floating text above her pink hair, jerked her arm. "Because I don't want to die, Chase! Duh!"

"Let go of her," Henry said.

Henry stepped forward to grab his shoulder, but someone ran past him, knocking his arm out of the way. Where a couple dozen had exited the store, now hundreds were running forth to enter it.

The boyfriend pulled Riley through the funneling crowd. Henry took a step forward but paused. 5 seconds remained on the clock.

"I'll take my chances in the woods," the cowboy said, adjusting his hat and walking away from the crowd.

"I don't know if that's a good idea," Henry said.

In the far distance, dark blocky shapes rose into the sky. They were entire buildings. And they were floating! Henry expected Shopmart to do the same, but it stayed in place. Those massive buildings weren't just flying anywhere, they were coming his way.

The flood of people entering the store lessened into a fleeting trickle. A balance had been struck between those that wished to enter and those that didn't. A few people came running from a distance. The boyfriend was yanking Riley over to a dark mustang. She pulled as hard as she could, but he would not let her go.

"You need to come inside!" Henry yelled.

He also needed to get indoors.

The cowboy saw the approaching buildings and rushed past him into the entrance.

The boyfriend jerked open the car door. "Stop fighting, you stupid slut." His white knuckle grip yanked her inward.

He was hurting her.

Henry was suddenly blinded by rage.

He ran, stumbling over the curb but managing to regain his step. All thoughts and reason left his mind. All that remained was the pure hatred of people like his father. Riley had both boots pushing against the bottom of the door frame while Chase wedged his feet inside, pulling.

Chase leaned forward and slapped Riley hard across the face.

Something broke in Henry. He released a roaring shout as he neared, breaking off the open door with one hand and punching Chase with the other. He grabbed the bastard by the collar with both hands, slamming him into the seat repeatedly. A voice of protest vaguely buzzed in his ears. By the time he realized what was happening, his knuckles were bloodied, the young man's face brutalized.

A girl's fist pounded his back. "Stop hurting him! You..." Riley paused as Henry turned around, heaving through his wide chest.

"You can thank me later," Henry said, offering Riley an open hand.

She looked past him with big blue eyes. She turned around to sprint toward the entrance of Shopmart.

Henry blinked, letting his hand fall to his side.

The situation came back to him slowly, a shadow falling upon the parking lot, growing darker and wider. Henry ran.

"You're worthless!" Chase yelled at Riley from his seat. "I hope you die!" He backed up the mustang into an abandoned cart, crushing it against a parked truck beyond. He sped away.

Henry doubted he would get far. Henry wasn't even sure he would make it. He was the only person within 100 ft. of the entrance.

Riley spun around in the doorway to look out. She looked guilty for leaving him behind. The cowboy stood there with an amused grin. Henry would have to ask him later what was so funny about...

A store slammed into place to his right, creating a small earthquake. The shadow deepened around him. Any second, a flying building would squash him like a melon.

He lunged over the curb, taking three great strides to dive through the entrance.

A glow surrounded him as he landed on the cold floor. It coated everyone else too. What was it for?

The world lurched. It felt like atomic bombs as building after building slammed into the earth and the ceiling with enough force to destroy them all.

But it didn't.

The crowd lay entangled as the bright blue ceiling flashed in response to each thump, spraying sparks down upon them, people bouncing on the floor where they lay entwined.

Henry was certain he would die until everything stopped.

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