The bear swatted downwards with its massive paw and I flung myself away, rolling down the rise to settle back on the cave floor. The bear’s voice boomed, speaking with the spirit’s intent. “You! Why do you resist!? Can you not see?”

I popped my head up to fire a mud spike at one of the bear’s hindpaws, before ducking back down. “Hope is a tenuous shadow, one that we must cling to,” I said. After checking my inventory briefly, I loaded in another mud spike and began resetting the spring.

“So many have tried before. So many have failed. Do you think that you are special?” The spirit-bear’s voice roared through the chamber, bouncing off of the walls, but this distraction kept it from noticing the mud’s imprisoning effect.

I fired off another mud-spike, hitting the other hind hindpaw. The beast was so massive that the impact of the spike didn’t cause much notice, and I wondered briefly if the mud would do anything to stop its motion. “Well, I am a chosen, so that’s a little special.”

“There have been chosen before, and there will be chosen afterwards.” The bear tugged at its bindings, a growl setting low. “You will all fail, you do not know what it is like to see it again and again and again and again and again, unceasing, burning, consuming, destroying, until nothing is left but the void!”

“Maybe I haven’t.” I conceded the point and considered my next move, really all I could do now was go for the skull, but it would surely see that coming. “But that doesn’t mean that I don’t understand the scope of my path.”

“Path, path, path, what path do you dare to walk that might change the fate of all thinking life?”

That brought me a brief pause and I peeked over the ridge of the rise once again, keeping track of the beast’s motions. “I’m a factory manager.” I didn’t know if the word would mean anything to the spirit, but maybe talking would keep it distracted just long enough.

“A crafter chosen? Hm.” The rage seemed to slide from the spirit’s voice. “Perhaps.” Even in that single word, though, I heard a sadness that knew no end to its depths.

“I may not know what you’ve been through, but I have seen despair as well.” I straightened up slowly and stepped towards the bear and the spirit, though kept a fair distance away. “Not on the scale as you, of course, but enough to know some part of having your heart torn with no respite in sight.”

“Then you understand why you must not fight, why it’s all pointless, why you should just surrender.” The spirit-bear stared at me with its deep, heavy eyes, and I felt the weight of those words hit my shoulders with a supernatural force, bearing me down to one knee.

“No.” I spoke the word firmly, a rebuke of that notion. “No.” I spoke with a fire that burned, even in the darkness of my heart. “No.” I spoke with my pain intertwining with my willpower. “No.” I spoke, crossing the void between us. “No.” I said.

The spirit stared at me for a long long time, before finally speaking anew. “Very well. If you survive, then this will be worthwhile.” The spirit then unwrapped itself from around the bear’s neck and then suddenly shot forward, burying itself into my chest. I shivered from the sudden presence, but I could tell that, unlike last time, the spirit was simply observing, rather than controlling.

The bear roared again as it was released from the spirit’s control and returned to its monstrous native instincts. There was no way that this bear had been a natural animal before, despite the general appearance, its presence here in the dungeon pointed to it being something artificial, something purely system-driven. Now, the system’s drive in it told it to kill. Kill me, specifically.

It surged forward but caught as its feet were unable to escape the hold of the mud. It pulled and roared in its frustration, and rapidly began to chip at its bonds. I quickly fired off a shot into its open mouth, the magma spike hitting the back of its throat and making it writhe in further pain. Its back suddenly split open and thousands of spores began to float through the air, emerging from the long vents that emerged, and I was suddenly very thankful for the air filter that I had equipped.

I had come a long way since I had first started, and while I certainly had a long way to go, I had come to a greater understanding of my tools, and improved on what I had available. As the beast began to buck wildly, I fired off my grapple spike at its shoulder. The spike dug in deep and then the rope attached to it retracted, pulling me along with it. I jumped with all of my strength and the grapple pulled me in the rest of the way.

The bear was still too distracted to notice me climbing up along its back, soon reaching its neck. Through my erg sight, I saw the place where the magma erg of my spike had lodged into place. Then, I lined up my drill and called upon all the strength of my muscle fire and pressed down, tearing through the iron-strong flesh of the bear, then through its layers of thick muscle and fat. Nothing sprayed out, because the wound instantly cauterized around the molten hot drill bit.

As I reached the spike, the bear collapsed, unable to breathe with the hole in its neck. I stepped forward and put the beast down with a final blow, before sliding off of its side. The weight of the violence resonated in my core, but I did not let it overcome me this time. I had grown more powerful in more ways than one, and I could not go back now, despite the call inside of me to give up the bloodshed.

I was thankful for that call in truth, because it kept me human, and meant that I would continue to look for strategies besides violence in the future. Hopefully there would be opportunities for those strategies to be used. The spirit rumbled in my chest, clearly exhausted itself, and I amended my thought: hopefully there would be further opportunities for non-violence in the future. I didn’t know what this spirit was, but perhaps the librarian would be able to offer some guidance on that.

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

Instead, I looked around, wondering where I could find the air ore in here. I needed to complete that set after all, and see what combinations would emerge. The chamber was too large for me to get any sense of where the walls were, but I supposed that if I started walking in any direction, I would eventually find a wall. My thoughts, however, were once again interrupted by a system message.

Congratulations on completing [DUNGEON NAME]! You have done so well, overcoming such challenges.

Your rewards are as follows:

100x Tier 1 Air Ore

100x Tier 1 Wyrd Ore

1 Level Up

Additional Rewards based on path

determining path now

…

…

…

unable to determine path

…

…

…

Additional rewards unable to be determined, instead boosting most used skills.

Mining -> 100

War Drill -> 100

Spikethrower -> 100

Battle Harness Proficiency -> 100

I blinked as the long message appeared in front of me, this was indeed a huge haul. This was my first step towards gaining true power. Another system message immediately appeared.

[Beginning skill evolutions]

Pain washed over me and sent me falling to my knees. My skull felt like it was being ripped apart until I collapsed completely on the ground.

Mining has become Advanced Mining

+1 Endurance

War Drill has become Armor Crushers

+1 Might

Spikethrower has become Ranged Weaponry

+1 Coordination

Battle Harness Proficiency has become Power Armor Proficiency

+1 Endurance

I felt the blood running down from my nose and my ears and, yes, even my eyes. I really needed to try to avoid losing so much blood in the future, but I supposed it was inevitable in this particular course of business. The pain slowly faded to a dull throb and I rolled to lay on my back, closing my eyes for a moment, though I was certain that sleep did not capture me this time, just a brief passing of time to allow the agony to eke away.

I pulled up my status screen.

Name: Placid Wainwright Level: 7 Paths Skills Health: 100% Factory Manager

Refinement

47

Erg: 10/10 Path Points: 15 Joiners 28 Foundational Facilities 5 Attributes Path Perks Advanced Mining 1 Might 8 Manufacturing 1 Sustenance Farming 1 Coordination 11 Gathering 1 Logging 12 Endurance 8 Basic Combat Tools Armored Crushers 1 Intuition 14 Basic Production Tools Power Armor Proficiency 1 Structure 18 Advanced Combat Tools Battle Harness Customization 18 Flow 12 Ranged Weaponry 1 Helmets 5 Mobility Boosters 9 Erg Sight 16

Well, at least I was a bit less of a wimp now. I let out a wheezing laugh before I pushed myself back up into a sitting position, pondering what to do next.

DUNGEON CLOSING

You have 4:58 remaining before the dungeon closes and you are expelled.

I nearly jumped out of my skin as the system message suddenly appeared. It seemed that I couldn’t close it, so I just moved it off to the side so I could keep an eye on the countdown. I briefly scanned over those new ores in my inventory, and started making the air hybrid ores, not entirely sure what would come out of it. The Wyrd ores, meanwhile, were something I was deeply wary of. Nothing I had come across in the library so far suggested anything about their usage.

I knew that Wyrd was something from Celtic beliefs, something about fate or oaths or honor or something. I really wasn’t sure, which contributed to my wariness, and I’d hate to bind myself to some unfortunate fate due to poorly using this rare ore. That said, I would also rather avoid wasting this potentially valuable resource. It was definitely something I’d have to experiment with when I got back.

Finally, I stood and brushed myself off. I was as prepared as I was going to get for whatever was waiting for me out there. The last few seconds of the timer ticked down and my senses fled for a moment as I was flung into a liminal space. I emerged a breath later, in a very familiar looking forest, but not in the location where I had been when I entered.

I also found that there was a rifle pointed at the back of my neck.