Dungeon Master

That little shit.

I made him specifically from my own personality, I even gave him my voice. The way he moved, spoke, fought, and acted, all just served to infuriate me now. Before, when he was just a small fry unique monster without any hope of actually surviving, he was entertaining to watch. Much better than the slime I'd made in one of the other subdungeons, and he was several times more fun to watch than the goblin who tried befriending people. It was funny to see him get disemboweled with a spear, though. His screams were music to my crystal ears.

I felt pissed. I had given that skeleton a skill at the very beginning, one that I didn't normally give out. I even made it a teachable skill. I'd invested so much in him, and he just sucked up all the experience I'd been saving over the past few days. I was going to make a new raid monster, but no. He had to just get into a battle with someone who was really mad at him.

"Fucking inconsiderate asshole."

At first, his personality was so close to mine that we could've been twins. Then, he just had to grow a conscience. He had to grow and change, so rapidly that I felt nauseous just looking at him now. Seeing him get back to his little camp, get his bones all healed up, and do that little head bump thing with another skeleton who was holding his shoulders so hard I hoped they would crack. It was all sickening to me now. But, I had to be a good sport. I had to let him think he had some sense of hope, even if he was going to die regardless of if he stayed here for two months, or if he tried to create another Catastrophe. There would be no chance he'd survive, considering how strong the response was to the last one. I was still having trouble keeping up with the normal spawn rates on the first floor, even with all the macros I'd set up to spawn monsters automatically.

"You get to die for your transgressions, you fucking shit. I demand that you die."

I couldn't help but hiss every time I spoke, my anger fueling everything I was currently doing. I summoned a minotaur made of diamond to help me feel better, while making a solid orichalcum hammer, and smashing both of them to dust. It lifted my spirits a little bit, as I left the jagged remains of the hammer on the floor.

I'd set up so many macros during my fifty year stint as an attempted supercomputer that now I didn't even have to interact with the system. Waving my hands, thinking about what i wanted, that was real power. I truly was a God at this point, able to decide life and death on a whim.

It still angered me, though. The fact that the skeleton I had made, going ahead and abandoning his original group, contradicting itself by saying that death was their birthright, and then letting all of them die, not dealing as harshly with traitors, demanding loyalty, growing gradually instead of quickly, and so much more contradictions all just made me want to smash him and his little band of skeleton brothers.

Even worse, was how he had acted in front of me. He had the audacity to sit there and say nothing as I told him my own history, which was both tragic, epic, and filled with so many twists and turns that even Shakespeare himself would have cried! His eyes being filled with nothing but defiance and rage at the very God who created him. I'd even created that slide to bring him right to me! I'd put a few seconds of work into that! He didn't even appreciate the efforts I made to bring him to me so I could yell at him!

"I want to kill you so badly... But I won't. I'm a good sport. I'm going to watch your slow execution until the very end, you pathetic fucking excuse for a skeleton."

I'd have to make one of those funny little members of the council of unique monsters the next toy for me to watch. I might throw them into my fighting pits. The minotaur looked like he might put up a good fight against the hydra, although the ghoul also seemed to be a good little plaything, fast, agile, and it had razor sharp claws, which I'd seen tear out the hearts of many dungeoneers in the past.

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Regardless, I wouldn't be making any unique skeletons for the next hundred years at least, as punishment for their traitorous actions, which caused me to lose out on my precious experience. It was mine, and I wouldn't tolerate it being taken from me, especially by some bonehead fuck with a deathwish.

He'd officially ruined skeletons for me, thinking about it. Zombies, ghosts, ghouls, and some other things might be okay, but anything showing off bone just felt like a total turn off now. I felt like none of it would really excite me the way it used to. Seeing the ghouls tear people apart was always a fun exercise though, so long as it didn't happen too quickly, so I pulled up a small display of the thirty second floor. I was quickly shown a group of dungeoneers trying to pass through a horde of ghouls that was slowly beginning to overwhelm them, with more on the way. It didn't happen often, or in any specific one of my eight dungeons, but it was still fun to laugh at them.

This was one of my favorite ways to relax after being hard at work spending experience. The way one of the guardians screamed as his arm was ripped off at the shoulder, and one of the mages supporting him screamed wordlessly in rage, throwing out at least half a dozen bolts of lightning, searing through at least five ghouls, which were inevitably replaced by the growing mass of writhing teeth and claws.

It wasn't like before, though, when I could just enjoy making things. Now it was always work, work, and more work. Never getting a real moment to myself, making sure that all my macros were still running by pulling up displays of each floor, and watching someone either get torn to shreds, or tear my monsters to shreds. I still found it offensive that they so casually disregarded the monsters I made for them, even if it was only the automatic spawning macro handling it for those floors. Maybe I'd throw things into chaos for awhile, beef up one of the floors to the point that anybody going in there for a day would find themselves hiliarously outmatched. That would be fun. I made a mental note to do that within the next few weeks. It would give me a good laugh to see some dipshit analyst having a heart attack because he couldn't figure out what I was doing.

"Can't blame 'em. Trying to fathom a God is impossible... Fucking idiots."

While I kept watching the ghouls overwhelm the dungeoneers in my periphery, I went ahead and began working on designing the monsters I would use for my ninth dungeon, just in case the bone asshole actually managed to complete the Catastrophe, as it would give me just enough experience to set up a new subdungeon, all the way down to the eighty seventh floor. I'd been working toward that goal for roughly seventy years now, and regardless of what happened, I would not allow him to fuck it up for me.

If he somehow managed to even try to do so, I'd probably just send one of the Core Golems that I had made roughly three centuries ago, when I was still feeling paranoid about some hero appearing to bring down the perfect utopia I had created for myself. They weren't good for much else, other than guarding my core. I hadn't been able to use them in the fighting pits, because I hadn't spent that much experience to create anything even remotely capable of standing against them for more than a few seconds. Just one of them cost me around twenty years of experience to make.

I wondered about what I might be able to do to fuck with him for the next two months. I wouldn't outright kill him, as that wouldn't be fair, but I could definitely weaken him. I wouldn't do it now, much as I wanted to, but I'd definitely keep it in mind for later, when he started to feel even remotely strong again. It would be fun to knock him down, and then kick him a few times, especially if I could make him helpless while it happened.

At the ideas swirling around in my mind, I couldn't stop myself from giggling with anticipation. In the corner of my eye, I saw the dungeoneers all collectively being torn to pieces by the ghouls, some of them screaming in both agony and fear, while others were silent as their organs were pulled out and gnawed on. It felt like I was listening to one of the symphonies I'd had a shapeshifter spy on, after they had broken out of one of my subdungeons. I still had the crystal orb I'd had them use to record it. I'd have to listen to it later, when I was designing a different monster. Maybe I'd have that one enjoy feasting on bones. That would teach the skeleton a lesson. He wouldn't be so damn defiant if he was missing half of his body, that's for sure.

I chuckled at my own brilliance.