Being a sentient rock had not been nearly as enjoyable an experience as he was led to believe it to be. There were meant to be quite a few benefits, all of which happened to be unavailable, considering he had been trapped in the nest of some annoying bird for three weeks. 

His jailor seemed to have a proclivity for grabbing the nearest shiny object, spending hours afterward pecking at the thing in an attempt to get it in the perfect position.

He shuddered inwardly at the memories. Not that he could physically shake, since he was... a rock. 

Core. He corrected himself. The creepy voice in the sky had been very specific when correcting him about that part.

He had tried to do everything properly. Followed that jerk’s instructions to the T. 

Until, during his meteoric descent to the ground, he had gotten blown off course by a stray gust of wind. This, what with being a literal pebble and all, caused him to veer off course from his original destination and landed him square in the middle of some haunted forest. It was a desolate place, where the leafless branches of the trees reminded him of grasping hands and the local wildlife continued to try and use him as a piece of decor.

He let out a shout of protest as he was roughly pushed around, giving him a better view of the ground beneath the twigs and sticks making up his cell. His new life was waiting for him just below, out of reach. 

It had been a harsh lesson to have to learn so early on in his life, but he had learned it. The world was indifferent to him, no matter how special he may have been told he was.

He mentally shrugged. He felt surprisingly resilient for only being a few weeks old.

It wasn’t like he would die on the scrap metal and acorn pile he rested atop. It would be inevitable before he had his chance to become rooted somewhere under that roach-infested dirt a few feet below him. Once he had, he would make certain the bird would answer for its crimes.

Rooted had been the term the stalker in the sky coined for when he would be able to begin doing core stuff. Gathering energy supposedly out of the ground and channeling it into his own creations, pretty routine stuff he imagined. 

He figured it would be similar to how the plants operated, though he couldn’t help but wonder how a stone was going to gather anything? 

Growing shadows from the setting sun caught his attention and he gazed upon what would soon be his new home. Once he had found his way to escape anyways. 

I suppose there are worse places to spend my time. The local scenery was beautiful… in a grim and impending-doom sort of way. Maybe I could be a good influence on these thieving excuses for neighbors. He stared at his captor, hoping his hatred was made apparent. It probably wasn’t, considering he couldn’t display any emotion.

The voice, while they had acted arrogant, had been nothing if not honest with him. Which had only made his sudden appearance a dozen miles above the ground even more jarring… especially when he hadn’t been able to see where the voice was coming from.

Obviously, he had asked the most important questions first. 

What is this? Who keeps talking to me? Why can I see in every direction at once?

Turned out he had been chosen by the world, or so the voice had claimed to be. Somebody thinks awful highly of themselves.

According to that annoying voice, he had been given the ability to ‘absorb the energy within organic and inorganic material’. The way he had understood it; if he got enough of something, he could then use that thing to make his own thing. Pretty advanced stuff.

Hard as it had been to admit, it was a pretty good deal. Get to play god and practically all he had to do was live as a rock. Forever. 

When he had heard that part, he had laughed at the voice. What was an eternity when your only limit was your imagination? If he ever got bored why wouldn’t he just make himself a little creature to carry him from place to place? He eyed the bird presently staring at him. Screw you.

Once the initial shock of the opportunity he had been presented with had passed, he had asked about his past. Was he somebody who had recently died? Why did he know so much about such minute things, yet felt as if he still had so much to learn about the world around him? 

It had felt wrong being able to rationalize and think, while he was still so naive and unsure of his place in the world.

The jerk had given him the verbal equivalent of a shrug, saying that his mind and personality were his own and unique to himself. Whatever the fuck that had meant.

After the crash-landing, he had had the misfortune of getting wedged in a stream bed. It had turned out to be a comparatively pleasant way to spend his time, even if he had been inches away from his new life. He was also glad to discover he did not need to breathe.

Of course, when he had finally been freed by a passing crab, a terrifying shadow had fallen on him bobbing at the surface before it had carried him off to his most recent prison.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

On the other rockface, weeks spent trapped in a hoarder’s abode had given him plenty of time to think and process. What would he do when he finally found his way into the ground… or rather what would happen? What was it that he wanted out of his life?

Not a clue.

Presently, he only wanted to avoid dying. The creep in the sky had been quite clear that he would never decay or die of old age, but that hadn't meant that there weren’t things out there capable of breaking him.

Okay. First course of action, make sure nothing eats me. Apparently, the only things that were capable of killing him were some specific members of the sentient races, and maybe an animal or two. Other than a specific few, his next greatest threat would have been getting swallowed by some giant furry beast. Not how he wanted to spend an afternoon.

He had already been caught once, though he had been lucky that his neighbor had been too small to fully swallow him. Which it had tried… on more than one occasion.

In order to prevent any more embarrassment, he needed some physical protection. Some sort of barrier or deterrent between him and the outside world while he attempted to figure out what it is that he wanted to do.

Taking a second to calm his thoughts, he looked within himself as he had been instructed. Search within and harness the power of creation. He mimicked the voice’s penchant for speaking in cryptic remarks.

His body, at least in his non-existent eyes, looked like a smoothed pebble. He had no edges and the only distinction between him and his fellow minerals was the slight greyish glow rolling off his body in waves. It had turned out to be very frustrating to live as a shining beacon to every avian thief in the area.

After a moment of concentration, a rainbow-hued ring formed on the flattest portion of his surface. 

His captor squawked in approval at the party trick. He imagined it to be the highlight of their day whenever he decided to check on his non-existent progress.

Roughly a tenth of the ring was filled with a stark white light -- the other ninety percent continually shifting between every color imaginable.

Just the bare minimum. Still. He wasn’t really sure what he had expected to see. Of course, he hadn’t gained any more energy since the last check. It would stay that way until he had managed to root himself in the ground below... but a core could dream, right?

With a heavy heart and an annoyed sigh, he continued waiting for something to happen as his captor started to shuffle him around once more.

Five days later…

Let’s just talk about this! No need for us to do anything drastic. He had found himself in the process of being moved to the bottom of the treasure pile, where the rejected metal scraps went.

The indignity had been too much and he had started begging. At least put me above the acorns, those things aren’t even half as great as I am. Look at me! I’m literally shining!

As he watched his own replacement ceremony, he thought about his place in the world. 

He still hadn’t decided what it was that he would do with the life he had been given, so in reality, did it matter what happened in the nest if he still had an eternity to live?

Of course not, he thought bitterly as he stared at the gleaming yellow crystal that had taken his throne away from him.

From what the voice had told him, most of his fellow cores had chosen to live their lives in one permanent location. Must be a serious fucking hassle to have to unroot. With the amount of power supposedly available to his kind and the length of their lives, he wondered at the reasons why his fellow cores would choose to do such a thing.

A few had gone off and done their own thing in the wide world, however, most of his kind had all chosen the same profession. 

Dungeon building, he had to admit that the thought of conquering an area and filling it with a bunch of cool shit did sound fun. What about his neighbors, though? If he simply took over, what would happen to the local wildlife? It wasn’t like he had a vendetta against every bird in the area, he wasn’t a monster.

From what sparse information he had managed to get out of the bastard, dungeons were the most time-efficient way for a core to gather the energy they needed to build. Which he happened to be in desperately short supply of.

It would all depend on his living creations. The better he could craft them, supposedly the more intelligent they would become. The more energy and time that he spent on them, the more useful and powerful they could become. 

It had been infuriating when he hadn’t been able to get any more information about dungeon-building out of the voice. It did make him wonder about the significance of his living creations though. Would they be able to speak? Would he be able to speak to them? They’re my creations. I damn well better be able to interview them if I wanted.

It did have a certain appeal… it certainly wouldn’t have been boring. Though from what he knew of dungeons, they sounded violent. Was that the kind of life he wanted to lead?

It was hard for him to understand why so many of his fellow cores had chosen the same purpose in life, but it wasn’t like he had to pick one way to live. He could always move on if he found it wasn’t to his liking.

Besides, it sounded fun. Why wouldn’t he want to build himself an army of creatures, or a giant castle to defend himself from any outside challengers? He could do anything. Build anything.

Thinking back to the presently pitiful reserves he had, he winced inwardly. Could he really call himself a great creator with his present circumstances?

His growth hadn’t even begun, which only served to infuriate him more. He hadn’t even begun to gain the resources needed to live his life as a core. The opportunity had been ripped away from him by random chance and forced him to live his own life from the sidelines.

Not long after, he had a terrible thought. What if I’m pulled out of the ground when I do finally get there? Am I just fucked if somebody happens to find me? He knew there were sentient races... what if one of them were out to get him?

A bird's nest would decay and rot given enough time, but if he was trapped in an enclosed space specifically meant for him? Would he be doomed to a life of emptiness with nothing but his mind to keep himself company? 

It was not a thought he enjoyed, Best not to dwell on things like that. Besides, what's the chance of something like that happening all the way out here? 

“Ha! There you are.” He screamed in terror as an absolutely filthy hand plucked him out of the nest and away from his squawking jailor.