(Curator PoV)

“Massive.” In awe, the word slips from my mouth. Resting on a pedestal of stone was G’s true form, a massive pill(?) shaped core spanning several meters in size. A far cry from the tiny pebble I saw rolling around in the Null. Ivy and all sorts of earthly growths embraced him as though he was the heart of the world itself.

“Welcome!” A body phased through the core, walking down a set of invisible stairs. Now this is the G I know.

Also, it answers some lingering questions I had after our meeting.

Thick DP ropes connected the body to his core, a puppet on strings this whole time... Forget manually possessing my DP eye, G here was controlling every aspect of this body remotely.

It was extravagantly woven together to boot, complex... Ahem. Well enough of that. I feel like he’s the type to go, ‘Right? Aren’t I awesome?’ and let it go to his head. Actually, I think he’s flashing a smug grin right now. He can’t read minds, right?

“Oh, and are these for me? Thank you.” With a snap of his fingers, the gift plants I brought floated over to and were placed in various pots. “Now, how bout we start with a tour.”

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... I lost count of the floors. At this point, G doesn’t even constitute a dungeon anymore. He was more a mishmash of rampant biomes, loosely or meticulously cultivated depending on how you cut it. Each vying against their neighboring floors for room to grow, as though they themselves were living creatures.

It was vomit on the pavement. Sprawling, as some would say. There was little structure to anything. You could go from the first to the fourth floor if you knew the layout. Or hell, sometimes to progress, you would have to jump down a floor and climb back up.

Actually, with this mad man, I’m certain he lets the plants grow where ever the hell they please, damned be a layout, then tries to make it work.

And it is fucking magnificent.

Pretty mind-opening too, to say the least. I predicated my own dungeon’s layout on books, in neat little chapters. Containing a main story (floor boss) with smaller instances (tales) curated around its themes and setting.

Although, neat is still a work in progress. But the sentiment still stands.

“Here should be good.” At the tail end of our tour, G stopped in place. Fiddling with some unknown screen, we were spirited away to an unknown sanctuary inside his dungeon.

Grass huts? Oh, he has a little civilization budding (hehe) in here.

We stood invisible amidst the daily bustle giving me a good view of the uniqueness present in each plant folk passing by.

They were bipedal, with their appearances differing wildly from one another, sporting features of every genus of plant. The distinction that separated them from dungeon monsters were their size, bipedalism, and lack of giant gaping maws of doom.

“Awww. Not amazed?” He took a one-eighty from just peachy to downright depressed. Don’t go cultivating mushrooms!

“NoNoNo. It’s just my guys pretty much act the same way, building a community and all.” If the boggarts and fairies are anything to go by.

Putting a finger to his chin. “Can they go outside the dungeon yet? Act as a unified race?” No... But that’s just being petty!

“I’m not trying to one-up you.” He hurriedly added. Right, of course not... “But I can’t outright guide you either. The others would never let me hear the end of it.

They have similar projects going on, and Whit’s always been a proponent of letting us find our own way of doing things. That and he’s crap at explaining things to begin with, so yeah.

And think of it like this. For us who can pretty much do anything and have all the time in the world to kill, limiting our focus is crucial.”

He ain’t wrong, I find myself going stir crazy if I’m not fiddling with something.

“But, I would be remiss not to show you this.” He pulls out a comically built DP phone and asked Whit to connect us with Seth. “Ey Seth, how’s my golden boy doing.” Spoken like a true dad... not that I have any experience dotting on someone. Alice.

“Ugh. You goddamn son-con, this is the twentieth time this month!” He cracked a smug grin putting me on the line. “Nope, this time I’m on official business.”

“*Grumble* You aren’t subtle.” A screen pops up courtesy of you-know-who. Showing a party of adventurers in Seth’s dungeon, fighting a worm-like monster amidst a vast desert of carbohydrates. As one would expect, his dungeon was entirely composed of food items.

A monstrous figure draped in thickset vines stood front and center facing the food-born foe. Looking like the plant folks version of the missing link.

Flesh woven from rugged stalks. Coated in thick layers of bark and calloused buds, the visage of an ancient dutiful knight could be seen in his shadow. One particularly heavyset plate of bark rested on his face obscuring it. And if that wasn’t enough, his homegrown armor was gilded in metal.

All this made him an effective main tank. Taking the brunt of it, shrugging off much, while only losing a few precious bits in each exchange. Truly plant-like, slow but always growing, or moving in this case.

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*Crack!* But slow-moving only meant he was a prime target for heavy hits. Whipped by an overly toasted tail, Leui, as the core himself softly mumbled in worry, went skipping across the golden-cooked dunes.

Worry crept into the eyes of his teammates but was dispelled by an explosion of light.

Little to say, the tides of battle turned as Leui, now rippling with radiant energy, shed off his bark shell and went to town on the poor worm.

“Glad to see he’s living his dream.” G nodded reminiscently. Wiping a dewdrop from his eye.

“Don’t start with this again.” Exceedingly exasperated, I have never heard a person so done with someone’s bullshit “You showed Curator an example of sentient dungeon life, right? Bye.” Seth unceremoniously hung up.

“Anywaaaaaays, let’s continue.” I’m sensing a hint of dread. He’s definitely going to get an earful at the next meeting.

Looming lecture aside, G continued our tour, eventually reaching the lobby. A large garden courtyard like the type you’d see in castles. Apart from adventurers and A.A personnel doing their jobs, civilians could be seen in droves basking in the pleasant atmosphere. And I don’t blame them in the slightest.

Tucked neatly away in this jewel box of a garden was the most adorable store. More grown than built, a motherly looking dryad tended to the show flowers. Mostly human, hair of rustling leaves, a vibrant yellow bloom rested on her head at a tilted angle like a sun cap. Rising a wooden hand with a sunny smile, she gave us a dainty wave.

Wait, she saw us? Were the other plant folk ignoring us? No, She must be waving at someone else. Trying to find who, I notice a glint in the crowd as a shadow surged forth, practically spewing killing intent.

“You Bitch! Give them back!” Her assailant shouted mid-leap, armed to the teeth, ax drawn high.

I lurched forward reactivity, but G held out an arm. Almost simultaneously, the attacker dropped limp on the floor, seemingly choking on thin air.

The store’s plants restrained and subsequently wrapped them up like a present. With the situation diffused, she turns beckoning us over. So she can see us. “Darling, why didn’t you tell me we have a guest.”

“Darling?” Is she his avatar?

“I’ll introduce you two in a bit. So buttercup, why don’t you turn this rule-breaker over to the A.A guards first, while I wrap things up with young Curator here.”

With his avatar happily dragging her would-be-assailant turned trash bag away, G turned back to me, his previous jovialness drained.

“Anger’s one hell of a motivator, more so when it’s justified.” He glanced over the adventurers. Some were going over plans, making last-minute equipment checks, others descending into the dungeon smiling as they prattled and joked.

“A good number of them will die, and those who survive will rightfully blame us. You haven’t lived long enough to build up such animosity. But do you think your avatar is strong enough to fight ten maybe twenty attackers off with ease?”

“If it was only one person like what just happened, I’m positive she’ll be fine. But don’t you think twenty is going overboard? Most teams consist of six people.”

“Like I said, anger’s one hell of a motivator, brings the unlikeliest of people together.” G’s eyes followed his dandy lover as she returned. “Well, keep this in mind. Your avatar is powerful, but they’re not invincible. And for a dungeon, losing your avatar is akin to losing half of yourself.” This sentiment again... Seeing that I was taking this seriously, a spry smirk appeared as he patted my formlessness.

“Dear!” She hugged, going straight through him.

Her name was Rose, and she was, as I thought G’s avatar. I asked why she didn’t have the same aura as Maria and instantly regretted asking. Through her innocent smile, I could feel a warm presence mounting, a disorientating warmth that threw my mind to curb and threatened to devour me.

Then as sudden as it came, giggling Rose dispelled the illusion. Teasingly commenting that Maria still has ways to go.

Apart from being death incarnate, Rose was an incredible hostess. Apparently, under the tutelage of Seth and his avatar, she’s been learning how to cook food that even a dungeon core would go crazy for.

Eating dinner, we had a lovely time chatting about Alice.

I wondered if she made friends, but it looks like Rose was already treating her like a daughter.

“So you have any favorites?” G jumped in after a brief absence. He still had a dungeon to look after. Honestly, this is starting to feel like a homestay.

“Favourite?”

“Yeah, like adventurer. There’s this team I usually keep an eye on, they’re not the best nor the deepest down, but they’re a funny group.” Is this his attempt at lighting the mood after that talk?

“There is this pair I like to watch. They always seem to find a way to surprise me, always spearheading the way for everyone else. But there are a few others I’d say are pretty interesting.”

Thus began our dick-waving contest trying to one-up each other’s stories.

Time passed, not that I could tell. I passively shadowed G as he went about his business, and sometimes he would throw me a word of wisdom or two, or allow me to manage part of his dungeon.

All that came to a grinding halt when a pale corpse of a girl dashed into the dungeon faster than my DP eye could perceive. And G went cold, colder than I’d ever seen him before.