(Curator POV)
[A white void, either cramped or spacious depending on its viewer. Hello, Hello! It’s me, Curator, your everyday friendly neighborhood dungeon core, happy to meet you all!
Spreading wonderous stories around the world. Giving dreams to all the kiddies and adults out there.
Though I may still be inexperienced, I hope my seniors will watch over me! Tee hee~.]
... God, kill me now. Crushed to death by my own dungeon sounds nice. Also, did I commit some grave sin in a past life to deserve this?
[What’d you think? Pretty spot on, eh?]
Sinking under the table, I break eye contact with everyone else.
My death wish repeatedly falling on deaf ears as the nearest god-like entity continued to embarrass me. How did things ever slip this much?
Well Me, I’d happy to answer!
No problemo. We need a convenient escape from reality anyways, at least until this blows over.
+++++++++++++++++
It all started after Human-like Being hopped me up on every morning routine imaginable before sending me packing into the great white.
An all to familiar place. Though unlike last time, it wasn’t just a blank canvas.
Like something out of Arthurian legends, a large round table now inhabited the void. People(?) well human-shaped enough, myself included, were seated around it.
They were similar to Human-Like Being, except more shapely. Possessing traits and features, instead of being white, vaguely shaped human blobs.
There were numerous seats, but only five had emblems above them.
The most eye-catching of which was an iridescent chunk of ore hanging from the ceiling on an inexplicably infinite chain. Fuelled by a raging inferno core, its surface continually melting, refining into various metals and jewels.
“Ehsu, Boss! Took you long enough!” Shouted the boisterous red-haired person sitting below. Wearing a soot-stained tank top, cloth pants, leather apron combo. Their voice carried a distinctly feminine ring.
[Sorry, my bad. But this guy here needed some freshening up.]
“If I recall, a certain someone~ arrived late to their own party cause they were stressing about first impressions. Your face when it turned out to just be Whit and me was priceless.” The most defined of the group mischievously teased.
Possessing short messy brown hair, masculine features, and wearing nothing but a tool belt lined with gardening tools. He lazed beneath his emblem, a wooden flower adorned with six pink petals, a maw resting at its center. Encircled by its own thorn laden stem.
“Please, don’t cause trouble, you two. Today is supposed to be an auspicious event.” Distorted in form, dressed in full chef’s attire just short of a poofy hat. His voice sounded faintly deep, undeniably commanding attention.
His ‘emblem’ a wooden signboard nailed just above its adjoining seat. An array of colorfully stylized foodstuffs pouring out of a stirring bowl was emblazoned into it.
“Whit, continue. Our new comrade here must be confuddled to no end.”
Just a little... a lot...
With everyone settling down, Human-Like Being or Whit as the others called him took an emblem-less seat at the table.
[Welcome! Welcome! Everyone to the party commemorating our newest ally! And you know what, since we’re all here, let’s bundle this together with the upcoming meeting.]
Distasteful groans bubbled forth from the group. An especially exasperated one, coming from the last of the four apparent dungeon cores. The faintest of them all, short and only a dim outline of a person donning a white lab coat. They sounded androgynous, maybe a tad boyish leaning.
Their emblem was a simple metal plate with a flask symbol engraved into it. Various gems were soldered to it, each representing a different element. At least according to what my DP eye was telling me.
Something about that lab-coated core doesn't sit right with me. Just looking at them makes my skin crawl and my stomach churn up a storm. Well, metaphorically, of course.
The fifth and final emblem hung above my seat, a rudimentary oaken panel with a simple outlining of an open book. Honestly, it wouldn’t look out of place if I hung it up in the library... I should seriously think about spicing it up a bit more.
[Anyways...]
From there, Human-Like Being performed their best impression of me. Which now leads us to present.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Thanks for the flashback Me!
No problem, give Paranoia Voice my regards.
Aight.
“Why don’t we let them introduce themselves.” The gardener pipped up, motioning things along. Apparently, this was a reoccurring gag judging by everyone’s deadpan reactions.
Ah. “Hi, I’m Curator, uhmm. And I want people to experience what stories have to offer. Be that helping the hero or villain achieve their goal or hell, be the hero or villain. Or really anything, I’m here to chronicle the ride.”
“Yep, sounds about right.” The blacksmith lady nodded along. “Eh, cooking boy, it’s your turn.” She followed up much to his dull chagrin.
“Right, first and foremost. Welcome to our colorful little band. Secondly-” He pauses unnaturally for someone who sounds like they’d always have an answer. “Apologies for the lukewarm reception. Usually, the youngest of us, Head in this case, would hold the proceedings, getting you acquainted and all, but.”
He glances over to lab-coated core, who I assume is Head. “As hosts, we failed to take into account your essence diametrically opposing one of our own.”
[I’ll take over from here.]
[As you probably realized, your dungeon’s theme is literary fiction. That’s the core of your being, the very essence of what you are. And it stands in opposition to Head’s essence, science.
Think of it like allergies. You guys don’t have the tolerance for each other, like physically.]
That explains the twisting feeling in my gut.
[But in Head’s case, since this whole world is ‘fiction’ to them. They’re constantly irritable, though after constant exposure building up their tolerance, they’re now at the level of a grumpy boy.]
Something of a scoff came from the person in question that just screamed, ‘YOU DON’T KNOW MY PAIN!’
[I digress. Unlike severe cases like, with G and Smith here,] Human-Like Being teleports between the Gardener and the soot-covered red-haired woman. G, Smith, Gotcha. [where they tried to kill each other on sight. I can think of a few overlapping points between you and Head.]
[Anyways, that's normal essence. Divine essence is a whole ‘nother can of worms.]
This is way too much to take in. I haven’t even digested the fact that there were other dungeon cores. This entire, uhhh. Core Summit. And now all this essence talk and that I may have an arch-nemesis now!? Who was the one planing my welcome party!
“Stop, you guys are giving the poor thing anxiety.” G pointed out, lazily motioning my way.
“Yeah, let’s cool it on the depressing stuff and get partying!” Smith slammed a bottle of booze on the table, not caring if no one followed. She was a one-woman party.
Swept up in her energy, everyone livened up, remembering what today was for. Contributing their own twist to the table, be that food, drink, or entertainment, except for Human-Like Being, that freeloader. Just kidding.
As festivities were had and merry made, the suffocating atmosphere dissipated.
I found myself the center of attention, concern and intrigue as to why it took me so long to absorb divine essence.
The idea was those who possess it are usually formidable. So when the A.A dispatches a party into a dungeon for the first time, they include one of these individuals. Inspectors, the others called them.
G followed up this tidbit by telling me that’s how the others had their adventurer cherry popped. And *Wahp* *Wahp* *Wahp*, three consecutive hits. Yeah, pretty much nobody except for Human-Like Being appreciated the quip.
How long has it been since those bandits first came marching in?
Three, four months I’d reckon. Time flies, doesn’t it?
I’ve kept them waiting, haven’t I?
Oh well, I’m here now, though it’s annoying how G keeps calling me a ‘late bloomer’.
----------------------------------
Late into the party eating our fill. The others were loudly in the midst of a drinking contest with the serious chef trying to reign them in before they do anything stupid. Especially, Human-Like Being.
Seeing Head sitting just outside the splash-zone of idiocy. Better to hedge my bets than to never take a chance.
“I know we inherently have our differences. But that doesn't mean we can’t get along, right?” I plop down an impersonal distance from them, repressing the uncomfortable stirring in myself.
Even at this distance, Head squirmed uncomfortably like his skin was on fire. “Just, leave me alone. This world is annoying enough as is, so many... unnatural aspects, undefinable it gives me hives.”
They certainly had a sense of youthful vigor about them. Coupled with the ever underlying irritation and you got a bog-standard angsty teen. “Look, I know this -”
“You don’t know! I’ve been working day and night, bringing some sense to this madness. Magic? Spells? I should be able to comprehend and rationalize its workings as the people of this world have but, no matter how close I get, my mind tangles up right at the end!
Compelled to understand something incomprehensible. Even as I planned for your arrival, I dove into this personal hell! Then at the eleventh hour. Once again reaching the end of my patience.
It happened, I felt you absorb an object that came from my dungeon. We don’t feel anything from such actions. But this one time it was like getting dunked in cold water... a fictional dungeon... coming... to pervert my sanctuary.”
While they mutter to themselves. I’ve realized why that barrel was so weird. Synthetic mats like rubber, it must’ve come from Head’s dungeon, at least that would explain it. But I didn’t feel anything when absorbing it as he did. Oh well, a query for another time.
For now, let’s focus on what Human-like Being said. We have similarities. One of which I can think of off the top of my head. “Frankenstein!”
This reeled them back. “Huh, now that’s a book I faintly remember.” Their shifting lessens considerably. “Pseudo-science, but the possibilities, that blind pursuit of knowledge. A cautionary tale that all pursuer of knowledge should adhere to.”
That got the ball rolling. As we argued talked more about Frankenstein. They ranted a lot about the scientific inaccuracies but, he was in his element, no longer a fish on dry... magic? No, that doesn't work.
Even through the bustle of G and Smith’s drunken fit, he remained unperturbed. I would say we bonded, but it was more like a push and pull, as my mind glazed over the technical talk while Head’s stomach churned at the fantastical elements.
Our symptoms did lighten up minusculely. Is this what they call resistance through exposure?
Aside from that, we took breaks whenever one of us got too frustrated and talked about frivolous things, much of which we still argued about.
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
Seeing us shakily prodding each other like two wallflowers at the ball G, Smith, and an exhausted chef joined in. They were mostly overjoyed that we managed to find common ground so quickly. G and Smith especially, regaling with some stories about their first few years.
Apparently, it was mostly through deathmatches that they found respect in each other. Invading the others dungeon with rules set in place, and refereed by Human-Like Being.
They sped up, wanting to say something else, like ripping off a band-aid. But before the pair could speak, we were all transported back to our seats.
[Everyone have fun?]
[Cause hold on to your forms, it’s time for the-]
“Stop.” Serious Chef cut in, surprising no one except me. “Let’s skip the tradition, this time. They’re already making steady progress. And let’s not forget, unlike these two muscle-brained idiots, our juniors are considerably more rational.”
“Hey! It was Smith who dragged me into those fights in the first place.” G spoke up, and Smith followed. “Yeah, don’t give him credit for my idea! And, it was a great idea, great for venting my frustrations!”
A couple of old drunkards reminiscing about the past, huh. [Note from Human-Like Being: Cores can’t actually get drunk, no stomach. So, G and Smith have perfected the art of getting tipsy off atmosphere alone. End note]
“Sorry, Seth. As much of a pain it is whenever Smith annoys me into one, I think this might do them good.” Even if it was against his will, G agreed with the results.
Without saying so, this absolutely turned into a vote. G and Smith were for this mysterious tradition while Seth(Mister Serious Chef) was against.
“Excuse me, but what is this tradition?” I need to know before I jump into anything.
[Oh, it’s the war-games, of course.]
Ah! So it was the deathmatches they were telling us about.
[G and Smith fought due to their differences. Then it sorta became tradition for the youngest to fight the new guy.]
[But don’t worry, we’ve added a few rules and restrictions since then. Now we use it as a way for seniors to point out the flaws in their juniors dungeon. And to get them acquainted with having a bunch of adventurers storming in at once.
But seeing how you’re already used to all that-]
I just wanna note how he’s saying this in a teasing tone. Playing off the late bloomer joke. Not That I care or anything.
[I think it would be best to make it closer to an actual dungeon war. So how bout this? Whoever wins this match will receive a piece of the other’s essence.]
“I’m in,” Head jumped at the prospect. “If I absorb his essence, then it might lessen these damn symptoms. Or it may exacerbate them, but I’m willing to take that risk. And if nothing else, I’ll have access to Frankenstein's monster to pass the time"
Smith did mention that this was a good stress reliever. Wait! Frankenstein? “CountMeIn,Too!”
[Well, I guess it’s a date then.]
Win. Lose. We’re civil folk, right Curator?” Absolute confidence. Looking down on me with that smarmy grin, convinced of an inevitable victory. Just a convenient punching bag for him.
Well, you know what? Two can play that game! His damn habit of calling out every fantastical element in a story. That damn tone of superiority! I’m not gonna take this lying down! “Yeah...”