My mana was, once again, basically all gone. Not that it really surprised me, to be fair, I had decorated quite a lot. And I was proud of the work I’d done!
The first task to making my room more pleasing to the eye was ensuring it was free of clutter. Unfortunately, there wasn’t some inventory system that I could just stuff all these loose rocks in. I could however, meld them to the floor. But that took mana and effort, therefore I didn’t do it. Instead, I molded up a section of the floor into some waist high walls in a nearly complete circle, with the exit on the edge furthest away from the exits to my room. From there, Dumb and Dumber were instructed to stockpile the loose rocks within the walls.
All finished, it looked like a lumpy snowball fort, complete with ammo.
You know, but it was all rocks, and no snow.
Dumb and Dumber were treating it as their nest, which I agreed with. They rested when they were tired, so I could only hope that their biological clocks matched with day and night times. Their sleep schedule was my only real sense of time.
Besides the rock snowball fort, my alcove had a lot of work done to it. For one, there was now a fancy staircase leading up from the water bed to my very fancy pedestal. The center portion of the stairs was proportioned for humans, but along the side were shallower steps for my crab buddies! In case I ever felt like taking my core for a walk.
Speaking of my core, it now really looked like a dungeon core. It sat at the top of a miniature stalagmite at about chest height, with a spiral staircase for the crabs leading around the edge. It actually looked rather like a miniature tower of babel, which I found amusing enough to include little fake windows along the stairway.
The alcove was much larger now, extending down to the water's edge. The barest sliver of water circled around my tower and staircase, shallow enough that not even the guppies could swim on it. The walls of my alcove had roman-esque pillars supporting the four corners. Each of the three walls at my cores side and back had indentations in their centers, perfect for holding trophies if I ever got any.
Of course, all this effort would pale in comparison to my latest effort! The thausens took a long while to find a stone large enough for my purposes. And even when they did find it, I hesitated to use it right away.
After all, I needed to experiment with my abilities first in order to make sure I got the fullest amount out of my one chance!
Here’s what I’d learned. When shaping stone, holding a mental image of what I wanted the result to look like was super important. When I built the wall for Dumb and Dumber, I just wanted a wall. When I wanted pillars around my core, I wanted them to look specifically like they do now. It went without saying which one looked better.
Second thing I learned, my mental image also dictates how much mana it takes to shape the stone. The more effort I put into making my mental image as accurate as possible, the less mana it takes. While it sounded a little counter intuitive, it did make sense once I figured out exactly why that was. It cost the same amount of mana to reshape stone, no matter what I did. Which meant that if I got it right the first time, just by using a little mental effort to make the image in my head a little more precise, I wouldn’t have to fiddle with it to touch it up! So it was more of a 'per second, per volume' style cost. Not exactly an exact science, but it got the job done.
While I was discovering these facts, I spent my time imagining what I wanted the stone my thausens had recovered to look like.
I wanted a trophy.
Not for me, unfortunately, though I would love to have a trophy for myself. No, this trophy would go to Abby and Owyn, for clearing their first dungeon! With all my practice done and over with, and as clear an image as I would ever get in my head, it was time to get to work.
My avatar sat cross legged on the water of the pond. The large stone, about the side of my head, sat on the ground in front of me. I crossed my arms and closed my eyes, recalling the mental image I had of the trophy in mind.
A circular base, with the words ‘First Clear!’ written on the front. Two figures stood on the base. Abby stood crouched in front of Owyn, sword and shield up and ready. Her face looked excited. Determined. Owyn stood behind her, chest puffed up and bow drawn to its maximum. His eyes glared ahead of the duo. Strong and fierce were the words I wanted to describe him.
Every detail was there. Their boots, the buckles along their ankles, their leather armor, belts, backpacks, everything. I could practically feel the texture of the stone. Flat and smooth like marble, flowing with motion captured from a moment I made up. Intent leaked out of me, and mana flowed with it.
When I opened my eyes, a miniature Abby and Owyn stood before me. Looking every bit as adventurous as I’d imagined them. I smiled at my creation. It wasn’t a smile of pleasure, but one of quiet pride. This wasn’t a dream. I could look away and then look back, and the statue would still be there. This was something real. Something I’d made! And it wasn’t going away when I woke up.
I laid down next to it, hovering a hand over the figures. My hand twitched, unsteady from holding it up. My fingers brushed through the trophy, phasing through Owyn’s fragile stone bow as if it didn’t exist. I waved my hand through the statue as a whole, more deliberately in frustration.
It wasn’t it that didn’t exist, it was me. This avatar that I created to soothe my mental image of the world around me. To express myself as if I still had a body.
Disgusted with reality, my avatar disappeared.
I became the dungeon core entirely. I felt every movement of the creatures within my domain. I felt it as the thausens wandered over to the trophy I’d created. I felt their hands touch the floor so they could get a closer look at the thing with eyes they did not have. Mimi and Rab joined them, inspecting the statue with mild curiosity.
I felt every fish within my pond. I knew which ones were mine, and which guppies still swam wild. Every movement traced lines across my existence, like drifting fingers across skin. I felt the air itself, rich with my presence. A natural flow of mana drifted across open space, swirling around my core. I felt it drain slowly into the thausens.
My avatar emerged from the core, and all those sensations faded. I shivered, recalling the sensation of feeling the fish swimming within my domain. It was way too intimate for my liking, but maybe that was the human in me.
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I concentrated on the flow of mana again. Why were my thausens absorbing my mana? If every creature within my domain absorbed mana, I could just pass it off for something dungeons had to do in order to control their creatures. But with it being just the thausens? Why hadn't I noticed this before?
Why’re you taking my mana? I asked Dumb and Dumber.
They looked up at my core, recognizing the question. One of them made eating motions, while the other rubbed their stomach and licked their lips. I should probably find some way to tell which one was Dumb and which was Dumber, but really, who cared.
So, you’re feeding on my mana? Interesting. What happens when I run out?
My thausens laid down. I felt a vague intent of ‘death’ conveying from the action.
Gotcha. Guess I do have to make sure to feed you all.
Feeding the thausens mana was easy. I got some when I fed the others, or when I killed things for food. The thausens must have been full when I first acquired them. Feeding the others would eventually become a problem. I only had so many wild guppies, and the corpse of the barracuda and the one other dead fish wouldn’t last forever. Was there anything I could do to help them?
I heard the sound of a pebble being kicked. Mana started to build slowly within me.
A man entered my domain, coming from the same direction that Abby and Owyn took. It all but confirmed that civilization was that direction for me, but that was really just a side note to the fact that I had another guest!
My avatar teleported in front of him, throwing its arms out wide.
Welcome to Lucid’s dungeon!
The man ignored me, obviously. He wore dark clothes and a serious expression. His eyes narrowed at something in front of him, probably his status. However, he quickly got over it and scanned the rest of the room. His fingers toyed with twin daggers, being held loosely in either hand.
Ah, yes. You’re probably on edge. Yeah, I’ll admit I probably didn’t give Abby and Owyn the best impression of me, considering they ran away with their tails tucked between their legs, but I really don’t want a fight! Trust me, I can’t afford it, I only have-
He moved like a blur, and two knives shot out from the man, sticking into the foreheads of Dumb and Dumber. Both died instantly.
I fell silent. My face fell into a neutral position as I just watched the stranger.
The man sauntered into the room, eyeing my wall fortification suspiciously. He glanced in the direction of the pond occasionally, fingering a hidden mechanism beneath his shirt. A closer look told me that was where he had dozens more hidden throwing knives. The man peered over the short wall, ensuring there was nothing hiding within my makeshift fortifications. Assured I was hiding nothing, he started making his way to my core.
Mimi and Rab shied into the water, slipping in with only the barest of ripples. They crawled along the bottom, eventually making their way into the base of the tower that held my core. Hidden from the world within their own little nest.
I had no such hiding places for my fish. They just swam idly, as far away from the man as they could. He regarded them coldly as he stepped over the corpses of my thausens. His eye tracked to the miniature statue I’d made of Abby and Owyn. His steps paused just before the waters edge. Without changing his expression, he passed one of his daggers to the other hand so he could pick up the trophy.
We both regarded the immaculate miniatures of the first adventurers I’d ever had in silence. The man looked up at my core, and held his gaze. With a flippant toss, he threw the statue into the shallows. My trophy landed head first, crumbling into dozens of pieces. Now that I knew what I was doing, it wouldn’t be a big deal to make a new one.
The water splashed with every footstep he made. Calm, patient strides carried the man through the pond to the staircase leading up to my pedestal. Each step he took felt full of assurance. Like he knew what he was doing. What he was here for.
One of his daggers went into a holster hidden in his pants. The other was raised, pommel ready to smash down on my core. He steadied my core with his free hand.
And then he paused. Although he could not see me, he was staring directly at my avatar, and I stared right back at him. I stood inside the pedestal holding up my core, with my head surrounding the sphere itself. I could feel his entire existence the moment his hand touched me directly. I could feel his calmness. The absence of thought within him.
He took a breath, bringing his dagger up just a touch more. With a strain on his muscles, the dagger plunged towards me.
Stop.
He froze, the pommel of the dagger just barely touching my avatar's forehead. I didn’t flinch away from the contact.
Why are you here. It was not a question. It was a demand for information, thought as firmly as I dared.
The man struggled against me. “You… are… a… power… ful… core.”
I could feel his desires, bursting forth for the first time. A desire to fight against me. To subdue me. He wanted my core to bend to his will. His thoughts carried images of rock and stone. His thoughts carried intentions of shaping stone to his will.
His thoughts pressed against mine. Forced themselves to fill me up from the inside. To overthrow my will and overwrite it as his own. He had the same power as dungeon cores. Like how I could overwrite and control creatures, he was forcing me to bend and obey his will.
I waved a dismissive hand, brushing aside the feeble attempt. I could only guess that he was being gentle with me. If his abilities were anything like mine, he was being cautious out of fear of killing me before I would actually submit to his will.
I would have to respond in kind.
Fear built within him when his attempts were refuted, only confirming my assumptions. I built up my own intent within myself, doubling his will as a first attempt.
My avatar rose up out of the pedestal and spoke aloud.
Obey.
Blood burst out of his nose, ears and mouth. He collapsed, coughing. His dagger fell out of his hand into the shallow water that surrounded my pedestal. Each breath he took in sounded wet, and every breath out gushed more blood. He coughed again and again, struggling to remain even slightly upright, leaning against my pedestal. His hands feebly attempted to hold on to the decorations spiraling up my pedestal, but ultimately gravity claimed him.
I regarded him with cold indifference as he shuddered out one last breath. He didn’t die right away, but he didn’t breathe again. His heart stopped beating next. And only then did I feel the largest influx of mana I’d ever experienced before. Nothing came even close. Even combined, all of my previous efforts wouldn’t even add up to a hundredth of what this one human gave me.
My attention did not waver from his corpse. I’d seen worst deaths. More gruesome ones than this by far, even if they were in my dreams. But this wasn’t a dream. This was real. That blood was real, and the corpses he left behind weren’t ever standing back up.
Get up. I rumbled. My voice dripped with equal parts anger and apathy.
You created this mess. You don’t get to die that easily. Get up and repent for what you’ve done.
The corpse shuddered. All the mana I’d just gained swirled within my core. It leaked out, rushing around the alcove like a hurricane. It grew and grew, building in power that sunk into the corpse at my feet. It collected in its bones, coallessing in a lump within its head. Threads of mana snaked out, clinging to the bones all the way down to its furthest ends.
The corpse brought a hand beneath its chest. It pressed against the ground, heaving itself upright. With two staggering lurches, it got to its feet and faced my core.
A skeleton with the flesh still attached. The remaining mana that didn’t enter the skeleton returned to me. Slightly less than half.
Clean up this mess.
The skeleton obeyed.