Solo Leveling: Forceborn

"Danger doesn't knock—it kicks the door open when you least expect it."

The mission briefing had been simple: a B-rank dungeon, nothing out of the ordinary for a team like ours. Allen stood at the front, his voice steady as he reviewed the strategy.

"Stick to your roles," he said, his gaze sweeping over each of us.

I nodded, feeling responsibility sink in and settle on my shoulders. It was my first raid since officially joining Ironclad. The thrill of possibly proving myself ran through me, but it was tempered by a lingering unease.

We went into the dungeon at dawn. The portal had shimmered like liquid mercury, its surface rippling as each of us stepped through. The usual rush of disorientation followed, the world bending and reshaping itself around us. As the nausea faded, we found ourselves in a dense, foggy forest: towering trees rose above, their twisted branches clawing at the dim light filtering through the mist.

"Nothing strange so far," Allen muttered, scanning around. His greatsword rested carelessly across his shoulder, but his stance spoke otherwise.

And then the air changed. It was soft and indistinct at first, like the distant hum of electricity. But in a few seconds, it became something tangible, a wave of pressure that made my skin crawl.

"What the hell was that?" Nora, our healer, asked, her voice tight.

Allen's face turned ashen. He tapped the crystal device strapped to his wrist, a mana scanner designed to read the dungeon's wavelength. The color on the screen shifted violently from blue to a deep, ominous red.

"No," he muttered. "This can't be happening."

"What? What's going on?" I asked, my heart racing.

"It's a red gate," Allen said, his voice grim. "The dungeon just escalated to A-rank—maybe higher."

Red gates were the stuff of nightmares for Hunters. Not like normal dungeons, whose mana signature remained stable, red gates were unstable anomalies. They could form when a dungeon's core surged unexpectedly, warping the environment and spawning creatures far beyond the intended difficulty. Worse, they locked themselves after entry, trapping anyone inside until the dungeon was cleared—or everyone was dead.

"We have to regroup and assess," Allen said. "This changes everything."

The forest pulsed with menace, the mist thickening around us. Every shadow felt alive, every sound shrill with nerve-wracking intensity. My palms were slick with sweat, my breath shallow.

"Stay close," Allen said. "No wandering."

We moved cautiously, our weapons drawn. The tension was suffocating, each step measured and deliberate. Then we heard it. A deep guttural growl that reverberated through the air, shaking the ground under our feet.

"Formation! Now!" Allen barked.

We scrambled into position, forming a defensive circle. The growl grew louder, accompanied by the sound of snapping branches and the unmistakable thud of heavy footsteps.

When the creature appeared, it was unlike anything I had ever seen. It had to be at least twenty feet tall, with a body of grotesque amalgamation of rock and flesh and jagged, crystalline growths jutting out from its limbs. Its glowing, molten eyes scanned us with an unsettling intelligence, and its gaping maw revealed rows of teeth that shimmered like obsidian.

"Earthbound Titan," Allen said, his voice low. "An A-rank field boss. We're in deep."

The Titan let out a roar that shattered the stillness of the forest, a sound so powerful it felt like the air was being sucked out of my lungs.

"Hold steady!" Allen shouted, gripping his greatsword with both hands. "We've fought tougher things before."

But I could see the doubt in his eyes. This was no ordinary fight. This was survival.

The Titan charged forward, the earth shuddering with its footfalls. My heart thumped hard in my chest as I set my gravity manipulation and was already computing how to use it to delay us a bit. This wasn't what I had signed up for, but it didn't matter now. We were in the thick of it, and there was no way out but forward.