Atlas: Back to the Present – Time Travel + Post Apoc + OP MC

Atlas and Amber joined Kingsley in the centre of the clearing, their eyes fixed on the massive stone structure ahead. One by one, the rest of the Portal Crushers gathered, their expressions a mix of awe and anxiety. The looming dungeon entrance seemed to pulse with a dark energy, its ancient stones weathered by time but still emanating an ominous presence.

“Holy shit, that’s a fucking dungeon,” John exclaimed , his voice tinged with disbelief as he approached.

“Yep, sure is,” Atlas confirmed, his tone steady despite the tension in the air.

Isabella, usually calm and composed, couldn’t help but voice what they were all feeling. “It just feels so different standing in front of this,” she said, her gaze never leaving the dungeon’s entrance.

“I know, right?” Alexander agreed, a rare hint of unease in his voice. “I’ve fought in the arenas, faced off against all the skeletons, but this... this is something else.”

Wilfredo, puffed out his chest and declared, “As the Emperor who crushes dragons and can pierce through the heavens, I am going to destroy this dungeon!”

Atlas couldn’t help but laugh, the sound cutting through the tension. “Alright team, I know you’re nervous and excited, but think about the SFB finals. That seemed like a tough fight then, I bet it doesn’t feel that tough right now. You can do this. It’s going to be one big fight, and we’re going to win it. Clear eyes, full heart, can’t lose”

The team chuckled, the familiar phrase “Clear eyes, full heart, can’t lose” reminded them of the SFB finals long ago. But standing here, on the brink of what could be a life-and-death dungeon dive, the words took on a new meaning.

The SFB finals, once the pinnacle of their worries, seemed trivial in comparison. The stakes were real now—no audiences, no do-overs. Every decision, every move, could mean the difference between life and death.

‘Gahhhhhh, I got taken out fast during the finals. I hope this isn’t a repeat.‘ John nervously thought in his head.

But that same reality brought a steely resolve to the group. They weren’t just a team; they were a unit, forged through countless battles and challenges. This dungeon was just another challenge—albeit a deadly one—but one they would face together.

Atlas looked around at his team, seeing the determination in their eyes. They were ready. Nervous, yes, but ready. He could feel the same mixture of fear and anticipation in himself, but he knew they couldn’t let it paralyse them.

“Clear eyes, full heart, can’t lose,” Atlas repeated, this time with more conviction. The words hung in the air, grounding them all in the moment.

“Clear eyes, full heart, can’t lose,” they yelled back.

“Let’s do this,” Kingsley said, his voice firm as he cracked his knuckles, readying himself for whatever lay ahead.

With that, they turned toward the dungeon entrance, their fears temporarily pushed aside by the sheer force of their will. They were the Portal Crushers, and they were about to dive into the unknown, ready to crush whatever stood in their way.

"Okay, tanks up front," Atlas instructed, his voice steady despite the tension. Wilfredo and Hank nodded, moving into position at the front of the group as they entered the dungeon. Atlas took the rear, his senses sharp as he watched the team’s backs.

The dungeon was alive with the crackling of mana, a low hum that seemed to vibrate through the very stones of the walls. The air was thick, damp, and carried a faint metallic tang. They had barely walked five feet in when they encountered their first challenge—a group of skeletons emerging from the shadows, their bones clattering as they advanced.

The team sprang into action. Wilfredo and Hank charged forward, their weapons crushing through the brittle bones with accomplished ease. Kingsley flanked to the side, punching through a skeleton’s skull with his cestus, while Isabella’s sword found its mark in the rib cages of two more. In just a few moments, the skeletons were reduced to a pile of bones.

“How’s everybody doing?” Atlas asked, scanning the team once the last skeleton had fallen.

Barbara, already checking on the others, looked up and nodded. “Looks like everyone’s good. Just a few scratches.” She had already pulled out the medical supplies from their backpacks, but fortunately, no one was seriously hurt.

Atlas sighed, wishing for a better solution, than just bulling through.

‘What I wouldn’t do for clerics and magic spells,‘ he thought, remembering his D&D days. ‘The first time through we had to make it through using massively armoured tanks. 

And, oh god, I want a rogue—a thief type who could check for traps would be really handy too.‘ Then it hit him. "Wait a second," he said, turning to the group. “Hey team, we’re gonna need a thief type, someone who can scout better than these two guys in heavy armour.” He gestured toward Wilfredo and Hank, who were already eyeing the dark corridor ahead.

The team exchanged uncertain looks until Kingsley finally spoke up. “Actually, I could probably do it.”

Atlas raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Tell me more.”

Kingsley shifted slightly, looking a bit sheepish. “Well, before my SFB days, I might have run into some... problems with the law because of some unauthorised entry into buildings that may or may not have had alarms. And I may or may not have been convicted. But let’s just say I know my way around alarm traps.”

Atlas considered this, his mind racing through the possibilities. “Well, there’s a big difference between electronic alarms and spike traps,” he pointed out.

Kingsley nodded, acknowledging the challenge. “I know, but is there anybody else who can do this? And really sneaking around and detecting danger is the same in either world.”

Atlas scanned the group, but no one else spoke up. They all looked at Kingsley, knowing that whatever experience he had, it was better than nothing.

“Fair enough,” Atlas said, a small grin forming on his face. “Looks like you’re our rogue now, Kingsley. Don’t get us all killed.” 

Kingsley smirked, stepping forward with a newfound confidence. “I’ll do my best. Just keep those meatheads off my back while I work.”

The team laughed, the tension easing slightly as they prepared to delve deeper into the dungeon, now with their newly appointed rogue leading the way.

They had been working their way through the dungeon for what felt like an eternity, but in reality, it had only been about an hour. The place was a labyrinth of narrow passages and echoing chambers, each one crawling with skeletons. The team had fought off group after group, moving in an easy rhythm, striking down the skeletal warriors before they could land any serious blows. No one had gotten more than a few scrapes—until they reached their first real decision point.

The path ahead branched off in two directions, the left side veering downward into darkness, the right curving slightly upward. Atlas, ever the leader, took a moment to assess the situation before making the call.

“Take the right. You can’t go wrong,” he said with a grin.

The groans from the group were immediate. “Really, Atlas? A dad joke, now?” Alexander muttered, shaking his head, but they followed his lead nonetheless.

About fifty feet into the right passage, the floor beneath Kingsley’s foot gave a soft click. Instinctively, he knew something was wrong. “Everybody back!” he yelled as he dove behind Wilfredo and Hank, just as arrows shot out from hidden slits in the walls.

THWIP!

THWIP!

THWIP!

The  arrows whistled through the air before slamming into the shields with a series of metallic clangs. But not all of them were deflected. One arrow found its mark, embedding itself deep into Stu’s thigh.

“Motherfucker!” Stu cursed, his voice tight with pain as he looked down at the shaft sticking out of his leg. “Medic!” he yelled, trying to keep the panic from rising in his voice.

Barbara didn’t hesitate. She was at Stu’s side in a flash, her movements swift and efficient. She worked the arrow out of his leg with her steady hands, making Stu grit his teeth in pain. Then she poured a coagulant powder into the wound to stop the bleeding and quickly tied it off with a bandage.

“Everyone good?” Atlas called out, his voice echoing slightly in the narrow corridor.

“Yeah, except for this fucking hole in my leg,” Stu shot back, wincing as he shifted his weight.

Atlas walked over to check on him, his expression a mix of concern and relief. “You’ll live,” he said, giving Stu a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “Just rub some dirt into it and walk it off.”

“Walk it off yourself mother fucker!” Said Stu as the team laughed at the comment.

Kingsley, still catching his breath from the close call, looked at the group apologetically. “Sorry about that. I’ll be more careful.”

Atlas nodded, the lightness in his tone returning. “No worries, Kingsley. Just remember, next time you step on a rock, it might not just be a rock.”

The group chuckled, the tension of the moment dissipating slightly. They were all aware of the dangers that lay ahead, but it was moments like these that reminded them they were in this together. They regrouped, ready to press on, more cautious but determined to see this dungeon to the end.

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This is just a note to says thx to all of you awesome readers. It’s tough being an author sometimes, and can be depressing when you get bad reviews. I really appreciate you guys who like my book