“Okay,” Zoe said as she sat down on the floor, keeping the scaled goblin at the edge of her vision. Its clawed fingers rapped against the throne which seemed to be formed from bones of various animals. “So you’re just like, a person and thought it’d be fun to meet me?”

“Yes,” the goblin responded.

“Has it been interesting?" Zoe asked.

The goblin let out a deep, grating chortle. “You have been quite interesting, human.”

“What’s your name?" Zoe asked. ”I’m Zoe, but I think you already know that.“

“Indeed, I do. My name is unimportant. What other business do you have for me?" The goblin asked.

“Hmm, I didn’t really think I’d get this far. You don’t know anything more about the system then? How the dungeon was created, why its here? What the purpose is? I just wanna know more about everything, really. What’s Gir like?" Zoe asked.

“I know little of the system. We have an important job at the Springs of Gir, and I hold immense pride in our duty. One day, we were here, as though we had always been. Gir is…” The goblin paused, scraping its claws along the armrest of its throne, digging deep grooves into the bones.

“Unpleasant.” It said, shaking its head. “Far too bright. The light of the suns cuts through even the dense earth and leaves little escape. You have one sun, is my understanding?”

Zoe nodded. “Yes, just the one. You had more than one?"

The goblin snarled. “Far too many. There was no escaping the wretched light they cast.”

“You don’t like the light?” Zoe asked.

“I struggle to understand how one would.” The goblin responded.

“Can you leave the dungeon?” Zoe asked.

“I could.” The goblin answered.

“I could take you somewhere you might fit in, then. There are these deep valleys that the sun doesn’t really reach. It gets really really dark for most of the day, and you might enjoy it.” Zoe said.

“The gesture is appreciated, but I have a duty here. Be it as it may that I suffer from the distant sun, I have my reprieve here in the depths of the springs, and am granted the satisfaction of running the Springs of Gir. I would give it up for nothing.” The goblin said.

“Interesting. But you could leave, then?" Zoe asked.

“If I wished, I see no reason why I could not.” The goblin answered.

“But you don’t wish to.” Zoe said.

“I do not. What is the purpose of your meaningless quabble?" The goblin asked.

“Are you sure that you don’t want to? Are you sure that you really take as much pride as you think in running the Springs of Gir? I suspect the system is making all of you think that you like it here a lot more than you do.” Zoe said.

The goblin’s teeth grated, letting out a sharp piercing noise that made Zoe cringe. “I am the master of the Springs of Gir. I am given this great duty, and I will fulfill it.”

“But you don’t even know what the duty is, how do you know you want to do it?" Zoe asked.

“Tedious. I extract mana from you, and provide a service in exchange. I take pride in being granted this privilege, do not test my patience.” The goblin said.

“Right. Okay. I’m sorry. Who granted you this privilege, then? How were you chosen for this?" Zoe asked.

“I do not know, but I know I was chosen, and that I deserve this responsibility. This is my dungeon, and I will not permit any to question that.” The goblin snarled.

“Alright. Alright. Do you know of other dungeons, then? Actually, do you know what kinds of dungeons there are?" Zoe asked. ”This is a productive dungeon, right?“

“That is what you humans call it, yes.” The goblin said.

“But what do you call it?" Zoe asked.

“This is a theme dungeon.” The goblin said.

“And what’s the theme?" Zoe asked.

“Hot springs. Have you no brain, human?" The goblin asked.

“Right. Just checking, I guess. Okay so you were chosen to take on the responsibility of running a theme dungeon, which is apparently a very big deal. And you don’t know how you were chosen, or why you were chosen. Do you have memories of Gir, still?" Zoe asked.

“You try my patience, human. Where are you from?" The goblin asked.

“I’m from…” Zoe paused. “Flester. Foizo now, I guess.”

“Then you were born in Flester, your hometown?” The goblin asked.

“Uh. No, I guess not. I was born in Esterland.” Zoe answered.

“And you are sure of this?" The goblin asked.

“Pretty sure, yeah. I grew up there. Had an okay life, I guess.” Zoe answered.

“How can you prove this?" The goblin asked.

“I can’t, but I mean that’s just where I was born.” Zoe said.

“And how can you prove the system didn’t create you somewhere else and merely insert these memories into you?" The goblin asked.

“I guess I can’t.” Zoe answered.

“Precisely. Then until you can, do not question my origin. I am from Gir. I was, through some means, chosen to run the Springs of Gir here on this planet. If I wished to leave, I could, but I have no desire to. Perhaps the system has twisted my perception, but perhaps it has twisted yours the same. If we live in fear of deception and manipulation we may never accomplish anything.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

“I am the master of the Springs of Gir. I take a great pride in my position. That is all that matters.” The goblin said.

“Fair enough. So you really don’t know anything more than that?” Zoe asked.

The goblin didn’t respond.

“Right, okay. So you probably do, but you can’t tell me then. That’s alright. Annoying, but alright. Do you have any questions for me then?” Zoe asked.

“I do not, human.” The goblin said.

“Alright. I guess that’s it then. Oh, actually no I have another question.” Zoe said.

“Go on,” The goblin drawled.

“Is Gir a town, or a village or something? What is Gir?” Zoe asked.

“Gir is my home.” The goblin said.

“Is Gir a country?” Zoe asked.

“It is not.” The goblin said.

“Is Gir a city?” Zoe asked.

“Indeed, it is.” The goblin said.

“Interesting. Thank you. I guess that’s all I wanna know then.” Zoe said.

“Then be on your way.” The goblin said. “Hargon will lead you out.”

“That won’t be necessary, but thank you for the offer.” Zoe said.

“I must insist.” The goblin said.

Zoe grinned and spotted a glimpse through her Cosmic Vision of the springs above and vanished from the throne room, appearing just above one of the gravel walkways that wound through the springs. Several goblins nearby and a few of the patrons resting in the hot springs looked over when she appeared, and then continued on with whatever they were doing.

Visiting the springs was fun, Zoe thought. She had expected the denizens of a dungeon to be entirely artificial — created by the system, and controlled by the system. But it seemed they were real creatures with their own ideals and thoughts, making their own actions.

Did the system find creatures that aligned with whatever dungeon was being created to populate it, or did it just rewrite their personalities and memories to make them behave the way it needed them to? If she had met that goblin before it was the master of the dungeon, would it have wanted to be the master of a dungeon?

Would it have wanted to spend its life stuck in a single room far below the surface, managing hundreds of goblins and providing a service for the humans it seems to look down on? Zoe found herself struggling to believe it would have felt the same.

Why did the system behave the way it did then? Was it just not powerful enough to maintain complete control over every single creature in every single dungeon it managed? More mana efficient to just pull creatures from other worlds, or create copies of them and make a few changes in their brain so things ran smoothly?

Zoe wasn’t sure, but she found herself fascinated with the idea of meeting more dungeon bosses. Maybe she could find some more productive dungeons and see if any were willing to make similar deals for her. Though, none of them would have any more information for her.

It raised the question though, of whether or not she could be chosen as a dungeon master. Or maybe she already was and there was some dungeon out there where a copy of her was passionate about the operations of some dungeon.

She laughed at the thought. Being trapped to a single place for a few years seemed like it could be fun. But for decades? Centuries? Being happy with living in a single place for the rest of her life was a ridiculous idea. She needed to get out, see the world. See the other worlds, when she could.

But could she make her own dungeon, if she wanted to? How much mana would it take before she could force a dungeon to be created? Was it just an immense amount of mana, or did it need to fall into some specific purpose?

If she sat down for a few years, pushing as much mana as she could into the air around her, would a dungeon eventually form? Or would the mana dissipate into the atmosphere with no effect?

And if a dungeon did form, would the system wrap its grubby little paws around her and force her to stay in it for the rest of her life, against her will? Was it worth the risk?

It was, Zoe thought. Even if the system did do that to her, it’s not as though she wouldn’t be happy. She would be happy, by force. Was that so bad? From an ethics perspective, it would be terrible. If it happened to her friends, she’d be terrified and enraged.

But if it happened to her, she’d be happy, by the very definition of the ethical conundrum. She’d be incapable of being unhappy with it. Someday, far in the future, maybe she’d sit down for a few years and see whether it worked or not.

Zoe looked to the sky and teleported a few kilometers above the springs, catching herself in a suit of earth with roots wound throughout and leaves that fluttered in the wind. A bit of an odd diversion for wanting to investigate her Frost rock, she thought as she chuckled to herself.

Would the frost rock be helpful as a dungeon egg? It couldn’t hold much mana, but it was powerful. If she dug a massive cave somewhere and enchanted it with Frost again then left it for a while, would she come back to a cold themed dungeon? Was that enough of a catastrophe to form a natural ruin dungeon?

She raised an eyebrow at the thought. It wouldn’t hurt to try, she supposed. The only question was where. She’d need somewhere that she could place it that it wouldn’t cause damage to anything she cared about, but also that it wouldn’t be found by some random passerby. They’d either steal it, or be killed by the intense cold. Neither seemed like very pleasant options to her.

There was always the option of just digging down from her home. Carve her way into the ground far enough that the cold wouldn’t manage to reach Foizo.

Zoe shrugged and made her way back to Foizo, teleporting into the kitchen in her and Emma’s home. Emma wasn’t home, but Oliver and Fennel both were. Fennel was laying down on the windowsill in Emma’s room, staring out at the bugs that crawled around in the garden. Oliver was laying down on the foot of Zoe’s bed. Or Oliver’s bed, she supposed. She didn’t use it all that much now.

She walked over to her room and Oliver looked up when she entered to watch her crawl into bed next to him.

“Hello little baby. Who’s such a good boy?" Zoe asked, scratching behind his ears.

“Yeah it’s you! You’re a good little boy. Just a lazy little boy that steals my bed. But that’s okay. I still love you cause you’re so stinkin’ cute.” Zoe rested her head on him.

“I’ve got a super dangerous rock that I’m gonna plant far below our home. Is that stupid? That’s probably stupid, right. I shouldn’t do that. That’s a really bad idea. I don’t know where else I could put it that nobody would get to it, but I could still find it, though.” Zoe said.

Oliver wriggled out of Zoe’s grasp and hopped to the floor.

“Hey! You can’t leave me. I need cuddles. I’ve had a long day. Where’s your mom, anyway?" Zoe asked.

Oliver ignored her and walked out to lay down in the middle of the hallway.

“That is highly rude, young man.” Zoe called out.

Fennel meowed from Emma’s room and Zoe heard him hop down from the windowsill, and then listened to his little claws rapping against the wooden floors as he walked over to Zoe’s room.

“Yeah! You’re always a good little baby too.” Zoe smiled as he looked around the corner.

“Where’s your toys, anyway?” Zoe asked, looking through the home with her Cosmic Vision. Emma kept things rather tidy, though the cat toys were often left wherever the cats last played with them.

Two of the moon rock cat toys that Zoe had made were left without enough power to still be functional on the floor in Zoe’s library, and Zoe teleported over to grab them. She pushed mana into both of them, filling the icy splinters as the rocks began gently vibrating in her hand, trying to bounce around.

“Here boys! I got your toys again!” Zoe called out as she tossed the rocks down the hallway.

Oliver stepped back and watched them bounce around on the floor while Fennel ran out and jumped on one of them, batting it around the hallway. The rock that Oliver was watching bounced towards him and he smacked it into Zoe’s room with his paw then chased after it.

Zoe watched them with a smile on her face as they played with moon rocks. What kinds of cats got to play with toys made from actual moon rocks?

“Actually you know what, boys? That gives me an idea for where I can try out this dungeon idea.” Zoe grinned.