Chapter 4
Breakthrough
Fine. I decide to do as the apparently much more powerful dungeon says, only grumbling a bit internally as I do. If I focus on my core, the same way I did when I brought up my stats, I can bring up an inventory of sorts. Much like my stats page, there’s a basic listing of various aspects of my dungeon. Right now, they’re mostly blank, save one that lists ‘Spawner Blueprint‘ as an item I have access to. When I focus my attention on the blueprint, a weird thing happens.
A glittering outline of the construct appears in front of me, floating in my tiny cavern. The visage looks like a series of glowing strings stitched together into the image of a pile of rocks. I try to get a better look at the blueprint, and it suddenly shifts.
The tendrils of the blueprint form into a cross-section of the overall object. What looks like a pile of rocks actually contains a series of complex runes and flows of mana within that I can barely comprehend. A web of magical flows clusters in a few alcoves within the spawner, and as I watch, there’s a beautiful process going on. Each strand of mana dances around each other, laying together like threads in a loom. So I just decide to go for it. Surprisingly, there’s not much to the process of making this thing into a real and functional item. A surge of mana here, a focus copied there, and it looks like it’s coming together.
The attempt isn’t my best, as the spawner almost immediately falls apart. My first creation to slither out of one of the holes is a complete mess, just a mutated lump of flesh. The mana almost seemed to resist being shaped, like something was fighting back against my machinations. Like a coiled snake, I could almost see the mana wanting, waiting to fight back. One thing I notice as I try to inspect the blueprint, looking for any guidance, is that the edges have begun to fray. The previously perfect threads have grown fatter and less defined. And despite glaring at the blueprint for what feels like hours, but in actuality was only a few minutes, I can’t see a path forward.
Where do I go from here? What am I missing?
Desperately, I try to reach out to the one source of information I have.
“Hey, bigger…dungeon, can you hear me?“ I say, trying to yell my words out into the void. Not really sure if it’s working, just hoping that something helpful answers my call.
A subtle chuckle is my answer. Wafting through my tiny hole in the mud like a lost ghost, the sound seems to bounce off of the walls.
Ecstatic, I immediately let my questions and frustrations fly. A flow of words comes flooding out, almost too fast for even me to comprehend. I try to explain what I’m dealing with, but the spooky voice cuts me off.
“Oh little dungeon, you cannot possibly be this ignorant of our shared existence?“ the mysterious voice asks with more than a hint of condescension.
The state of the world is something I have a hazy memory of, although facts about myself are the murkiest of them all. The world I inhabit has some kind of overarching controlling interest that manifests through the notification system I’ve seen, though I have no clue how it works—and I suspect me in a previous life was similarly clueless.
Frustrated, I press on with a direct line of questioning. “So what exactly are you doing to help me?“ I ask, letting some heat linger in my tone.
The esoteric voice tries to sound smoothing, maybe even friendly. “Let’s start with something simple, how about you tell me your name?“ It asks, and I know it’s leading me down some strange path.
“Oh crap, what even is my name?“
Though that was the least of my problems. I tried to claw through my memories—such as they were—to find my name or anything about my past life, and nothing but a dark ether came back. It was everything, even what I used to look like. It was almost like the few glimpses I had experienced were in the third person. I wasn’t reliving them, I was watching them happen.
Though I can’t recall more than fleeting glimpses from my past life, there were the briefest of mentions of Dungeons, Cores and more burning within the recesses of my malformed mind. Wherever I had found myself, it seemed that I inhabited the same world I had spent my previous life in—though even the name of that world escapes me now.
The response that interrupts my thoughts is almost taunting, “Little dungeon, you must have a name? Really, it is not that difficult to choose something so simple.“
The taunt is clear, and it sends me spiraling. The blow would send me falling against the wall, if I still had a body. Panic sets in, and my future looks bleaker than I could have imagined.
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“Why me? What use do I have as a dungeon?“ I say, as I try to piece together the point of all this.
The unknown voice was picking at me again, his reply just as condescending as I expected.
“Why don’t we start by teaching you something, little dungeon. Expand your awareness, learn what you can about the world which surrounds you. Once you have sufficient knowledge, I can help you.“
As I listen to the mysterious dungeon talk, I try to formulate a plan. My awareness of the world around me is admittedly extremely poor, so it’s time to both address that and expand my domain.
With no recourse, I follow the vague command. I draw upon my previous experiences and begin ravenously consuming every scrap of mana I can find. As I consume the mana, a surge of energy courses through me, filling me with a sense of purpose. I can feel the mana flowing within me, fueling my abilities and sharpening my focus.
With each intake, my senses heighten, allowing me to perceive the subtle presence of mana in the air, soil and more. It’s as if I can taste its sweetness on my tongue and feel its warmth. The area around me becomes clearer, more vibrant, as if a veil has been lifted.
Driven by an insatiable hunger, I scour the surroundings, scanning every nook and cranny for traces of mana. I am drawn to remnants of gems, their shimmering fragments captivating my attention. With delicate precision, I collect these precious remnants, remembering their potential to fuel my magical endeavors. Each one is stored away for later. And despite the laborious nature of the effort, I'm slowly building up a stockpile of basic focuses that I rapidly siphon mana into. I navigate the terrain with a newfound agility, my senses attuned to the faintest whispers of mana. I revel in this pursuit, knowing that with each new morsel, my power grows, and my capabilities expand.
In the midst of my ravenous hunt, a thought emerges, planting a seed of strategy in my mind. I realize the significance of these gems and their concentrated mana content. They hold the key to unlocking greater reservoirs of power. I make a mental note to prioritize the search for these elusive gems in the future, knowing that more powerful ones will be invaluable in my magical pursuits.
But for now, my focus remains unwavering as I continue my relentless quest. I am driven by an unyielding hunger and determination to break out of these tiny confines.
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After an unknowable amount of time, I extracted a significant amount of energy and even managed to increase the physical size of my core. Though the colors don’t shift, it feels strangely satisfying to complete even this basic milestone. What was once a tiny jagged marble is now glowing a bit more brilliantly, and is the size of a large bead.
And as I have come to expect, that unknown dungeon is once again intruding upon my thoughts.
“Well, well, you’ve done more than I expected of you, little dungeon,” said the disembodied voice echoing in my mind, carrying a notably hungry tone.
The intentionally mysterious tone is really grating on my patience, and I let my discontent boil over. “Just what exactly am I doing here? You keep showing up, telling me what to do. And for some strange reason, I can’t say no.“
I immediately sense that I’ve said something wrong, as the shift in tone is blatantly menacing. Even without being able to see who or what is talking to me, I can picture the dripping inflection of malice. The words barrel into my thoughts, crashing down the gate of my mind and roaring like a wild beast.
“Whatever you were before, that’s not you now. You are a tool, and others will use you unless you learn to fight back.”
The force of the mental attack is overwhelming, but does hold a hidden glimmer of potential. I'm extremely over being yelled at like this. And fighting back is exactly what I plan to do. Nothing was ever permanent, so why would I waste my time hoping for something better? It’s time to break out of here once and for all.
The one good thing about all this time to myself is that I’m better able to understand how much I can grow. Not only have I managed to add new minions to my collection, but I’ve also slowly expanded my awareness a fair bit. The latent energy of the space has also grown more intense. The further I expand, the more voluminous mana has become—with that realization, I dream of a possible escape from whatever the hell this is.
With a renewed sense of purpose, I launch my mind towards my next goal. As I work, the incessant hum of that annoying voice fades into the background. For a long amount of time, I fall into this dull process: consume mana, tunnel into the rock, repeat. The inhumane nature of the work isn’t even rewarding anymore, it’s just something I need to do. After what feels like an entire lifetime, I finally manage my goal. With trepidation running through me like a hungry animal, I pierce the soil above with one last thrust of mana.
With a surge of energy, I press my awareness up through the loose rocks and soil above me, finally getting to surveil my surroundings. The sight is a lot less profound than I expected. The surrounding area is nothing more than a fetid swamp. When I first take in the scene, a putrid smell wafts through the air, a mixture of decay and stagnant water. The buzzing of insects adds an incessant hum, creating a dissonant symphony. The ground looks squishy and unstable, made mostly of muck and sunken roots.
Looking closer at the dying trees, their twisted branches reach out like skeletal fingers, their leaves a sickly shade of brown. The bog water lies still, its surface covered in a layer of algae, creating an eerie green sheen.
But amidst this desolate landscape, my attention is drawn to the hidden sources of mana below the surface. They emanate a pulsating energy, vibrant and captivating. It beckons to me, promising unimaginable power and abundance. The air around it feels charged as if every breath could carry potential liberation.
With anticipation coursing through me, I can’t help but feel a surge of greed and excitement. The prospect of consuming this hidden wealth fills me with a sense of empowerment and possibility. It’s as if the entire world’s treasures have been laid bare, just waiting for me to claim them.
The thought instantly lights off in the back of my mind like a powderbomb. Maybe it’s because I’ve been stuck in a rock for who knows how long, but the change in my environment is stunning and powerful.
So far, my dungeon is tiny, nothing more than a few rough-hewn rooms. But still, it’s mine. And that’s the thought that solves another problem. With an explosion of power, I know what to call myself. I will be the lord of this swamp, and of all the realms beyond.