--------- Dungeon Storage Room ---------

The dungeon looked at the new zombie he had made, having made a bunch of them lately. All useful, and no matter how many he had, he'd probably need more to finish the Daedric Tower Room with any kind of acceptable speed. The rooms that were supposed to be somewhat hidden in the walls with a confusing layout of doors was another matter entirely.

'Dig here. I don't know where it is, but make sure that the floor of the room that's going below this one will be level with the bottom level of the tower.'

The zombie began scratching against the floor.

'Actually, if I want there to be a big ass coliseum down there, then I need the ceiling of that room to be really high. Right? That means that the ramp needs to seriously go down. Yeah, let's do that. Like, the slope will stop at the walk-around ring and the arena will be below it, and seating can be all around. I doubt that many people will come here, though. But, if they bring me something worth my time, then I wouldn't complain! Oh, and go put the termite larva in the Research Room in the treasure chest in the Daedric Tower.'

How he'd build it to actually get some kind of something from anyone was something he had no idea about, deciding that he'd maybe figure it out at some other time. Just like everything else, he'd leave it for later.

As the zombie continued the work it was commanded to do and the dungeon imagined the end result of the room shape, he felt his lungs deplete significantly. He knew he didn't actually have lungs; it was just how he experienced mana capacity, and mana was necessary for pretty much everything. But what was it, exactly? He knew he knew what it was, but how was it made? He should investigate it.

Where was... he... right... he wasn't feeling great. He wasn't thinking clearly. He... no, he wasn't going to...

--------- Giant Squisher External Perimeter ---------

The Ministry of Truth religious order members both saw and felt a burst of dusty wind escape from every part of the dungeon they were still parading around, looking much like a heavy book was thrown down on top of a very dusty table. Nothing fell on the Giant Squisher Dungeon. Instead, it was the signal they had all been working towards.

Melisande's hair was blow back, some of it whipping around and getting stuck on her face that she hadn't, at least until now, noticed that was speckled with sweat. Now that her hair was stuck on her face, needing her to pluck it off, she noticed. How long had they been out there? She knew the ritual took as long as it needed to, but she didn't realize it was going to be this long. She'd have to ask around Plainsheart to figure it out.

She watched the dust that came from the dungeon start to settle, all landing in a relatively even pattern around the new dungeon's perimeter. There wasn't enough newly dry land to put even a grass hut on, but maybe it wasn't too far off. Whatever the dungeon had been doing, she didn't know, but it looked to have been doing a lot since she had first seen it as nothing but a small cave at the end of a road and up the hill near some collapsed buildings. Why else would it throw that much dirt and dust around when it was made Honest?

But she wasn't a delver. The Exterminators asked a few times, either forgetting her answer, not being aware that someone already asked, or not wanting to listen to her and instead just trying to be a pester in order to get her to change her mind. She wouldn't be going in there, since there wasn't anything for her. Plus, the other thing, she told herself. Just remembering that made her need a drink. She'd been gone for at least a day or two, right? She should really drink something, anyway. She knew exactly what she wanted. It was in a bottle hidden by a loose floorboard under her bed, surrounded by even more bottles. All empty, of course. She wasn't going to waste that. She needed it.

--------- Wagon outside Bogsreach ---------

The woman was glad she didn't have to wait around for very long. A good rest on the bedroll she kept under the seat of the wagon without an inhabited city nearby was nice, for a change. The smell from below the wagon from where the cage waste holes let out wasn't nice, but she had accounted for that. If only she could have slept further away, but the ingrates might have figured out how to get out of their bindings if she gave them any kind of space or neglect.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Sure, one of them didn't keep itself around until it could be used, but it had been replaced easily enough. The new staff helped both with that, and with the monsters that came sniffing around the other day. Her blades were trusty, and her partner was useful enough with his cudgel, but more weapons never hurt. Especially not one with a better range than she had already. Even more especially, she thought to herself, not a weapon that couldn't get lost while being used.

She watched the few people with Ministry of Truth religious garb stop walking in circles as the dungeon burst out a cloud of dirt. After seeing this, the group gathered together and presumably talked to each other about something deluded, and then started walking into the city that she hadn't seen movement in and didn't know the name of.

The Temple of Forgiveness congregation members prepared to move closer, and the woman spoke her mind. "Give it an hour, then let's head inside. I want to do a trade."

The man gave a gruff laugh. "Sure, I wouldn't mind getting something worth more than the maggot bread I had to feed the rats. Time for us to actually get paid for this delivery, eh?" He gave a better laugh than before, but it was full of cruelty and pride.

--------- Giant Squisher Storage Room ---------

The dungeon woke up, feeling like someone was poking him in the forehead. 'What?' he asked the empty air. 'What does who want?'

[All Termite castes successfully researched. Option unlocked.]

Giant Squisher grumbled. 'What option?'

There was no response.

He imagined deeply exhaling, forgetting what that actually meant, and failed to be able to do so. Instead, he found himself coughing, and nearly gagging. He got up from the ground quickly, and saw that the hole he'd ask the newest zombie to dig had only gone a few feet so far.

Before he could focus on that, he could feel like someone, multiple someones, was watching him from behind, glaring hatefully at him, and had been doing so for awhile. He looked around, but then realized that he knew what the feeling was. Someone had come in.

Six someones, it felt like. He went into the cave room, able to tell that they hadn't gotten anywhere yet. Giant Squisher walked quickly to the cave mouth; the thwomp protecting the doorway making itself hover upwards with its species own unique power as it had been told to do when an entity of the dungeon approached.

There he saw them. The group was odd, to say the least. 'Was this multiple generations of an entire family delving into the dungeon? That was stupid. Dungeons were dangerous places! I'm not dangerous, not yet, but still. There was a mom, a dad, a grandma, and two kids. Seriously? Bringing kids and an old lady into the dungeon? That was really stupid', he thought to himself.

The mom saw the thwomp move right away, saying something loud. The dad pulled on a... rope? Why was there a rope tied to the kids hands? Man, the little people's kids were really small! It was probably just- he couldn't concentrate on figuring out how old they were, or any of them. The kids had their hands tied together, and tied to the rope the dad pulled. Were your kids really so bad that they had to have a harness to keep them under control? They looked even thinner than anyone else the dungeon had seen so far, and their eyes were sunken in, had dark shadows under their eyes, and it looked like they had gotten dirty and cried, their tears cleaning part of their faces. What was going on with this family? It wasn't normal.

With the grandma, she looked less awful, and she didn't look like she had gone the same amount of time without enough food. The mom pushed her from behind with a knotted stick, but not too hard. Why are you trying to force your mother to go under the thwomp? There wasn't much in the dungeon yet. The dungeon didn't like that they had used his presence to get into the dungeon's Storage Room because of him, especially without giving him something to bribe the monster. Nor did he like what he was seeing.

He continued standing where he was, mostly in shock from the abysmal behavior. Once the delvers were past the giant angry monster, he followed them. He'd have to keep an eye on this group. The door now blocked with red-eyed stone, the middle-aged? adults started making exclamations.

A couple minutes later, there was light. Then it was gone. Then it was there again, coming from the ground. Giant Squisher watched closer, seeing that they were little sparks coming from rocks in the mom's hands, and she was aiming to hit the cloth on the end of the wooden club the dad had. 'Did they have those things earlier? I do need to pay better attention in here. Wait, what is that?'

A spark hit whatever the woman was aiming for, catching the cloth on fire and revealing a rather unique scar on her face. The torch didn't even look like the kind of torches the dungeon had already found, but if it worked as one, then the delvers can do whatever they wanted with it.

The man held his torch upright in front of himself, pulling his kids behind him as he began to walk around. Almost right away, he noticed the zombie the dungeon had made to dig out the hole that would become stairs to the room that would later connect to the bottom of the tower. He yelled something, and his wife threw something at the monster, lodging in its back. The zombie continued digging.