You have used your ability to create a Subcore in [British Museum].

Number of uses at current rank remaining: 0

Subcore Type has been determined as [History’s Guardians]

A domain has been automatically established and now covers the entirety of the building, and the archives below it. A Subcore’s domain will only increase when the Main Core increases in Rank.

Would you like to see the full list of creatures created by this Subcore?

There was only one answer to that and that answer was hell to yes!

You have received the following patterns as part of your new Subcore and Sub-Dungeon:

Crypt Guardian

Feline Guardian

Guardian Bull

Marble Hoplite

Shattering Poltergeist

Spiritus Machina

Huh. That was … less informative than he’d expected. And he wasn’t entirely sure what many of those were. Or where exactly they were referring to.

So he started to look at the patterns, and at least the identity first half of the creatures on the list became clear.

Mummies.

But they weren’t the mummies of 20th-century horror movies, or the real dead of Ancient Egypt, which had been unburied by Europeans millennia later, and subsequently either ground up for medicine or unwrapped during high-class parties as entertainment.

No, these were … if Thomas had to really describe these things, he’d have described them as how someone would have drawn a mummy, if they’d only had a rough description of what mummies and mummification were and been told they were undead warriors, instead of merely people buried in a specific way.

Actually, perhaps that was exactly what they were. After all, they weren’t listed as “human mummy”, “cat mummy”, and “bull mummy”, but variations on “guardians”.

The same way that the marble hoplite seemed to be some kind of animated statue, but it wasn’t one he’d ever seen. There were plenty of Greek marble statues in the British Museum, but not the one he had there.

And the Shattering Poltergeist seemed to be a reference to the collection of Asian pottery.

These creature patterns had been directly provided by the System, had he just been given stuff that seemed similar to what could already be found in the Museum?

However, as much fun as it would be to keep rolling this idea around in his head for a few hours more, continuously running in circles until something broke him out of the loop, Thomas suspected there was a way to find answers.

“Hey Elias, what do you know about Crypt Guardians?” he asked innocently. As far as he knew, the fairy hadn’t left his home planet much, but he’d still amassed quite a wealth of knowledge. If these things were common, Elias would at least know something.

“Uh … run!”

Yes, that had been an answer, but not one that really helped all that much.

“What does that mean?” Thomas asked, more puzzled than anything else.

“That means, you get Jan out of there before I explain anything else because if you don’t, you’ll have to send him all the way out there again,” Elias explained.

Thomas sighed. “That’s not why I’m asking.”

“… Right,” Elias said slowly. “Crypt Guardians are undead defenders of crypts. The bodies of soldiers or bodyguards get transformed and revived and then they fight against intruders. First, they’re treated to not rot, and then they get wrapped with magical cloth, but there are a ton of magical talismans stuck in between the linens.

“And depending on how much effort you put into the guardian, they can get really nasty. There are versions that have a dozen different magical effects attached to amulets that they can hurl around, others have all their organs removed, placed in jars, and then, when the Guardian is destroyed, a jar breaks instead.”

Elias continued to explain more, compounding on animal-based guardians, various enchantment tricks, the advantages of being able to instantly recover from damage, and more besides. Interesting, but there was one point that Thomas felt compelled to ask for clarification on.

“Are the guards … alive when that happens?” he asked, carefully.

Elias shook his head. “If there aren’t enough people who died honorably in the line of duty, there are always individuals willing to sacrifice themselves. ‘Vo-lun-teers’.”

The fairy put as much sarcasm into the last word as Thomas would have.

The culture behind that practice sounded quite pleasant. Much like how the Ancient Egyptians sometimes buried slaves alive when a Pharao died.

And it seemed that by now, the penny had dropped for the fairy.

“You got one, didn’t you?” he asked. Those are damn strong, but Dungeons only get the baseline model, with only the animating charms, you’ll need to pay extra to add any charms you have. And the extra lives from external organs double the cost for a guardian, and they count double against your control limit.”

On and on went Elias. Again.

The whole thing basically boiled down to Thomas needing to get his hands on more Crypt Guardian-specific amulets, and that there were arguments to be made both for a large number of creepy Guardians or a handful of undying ones.

Namely, a larger army would be able to do more damage, but undying Guardians were devastating as hell. Specifically, killing them would give delvers precisely zero breathing room as they’d just reform right where they’d died. However, too few Guardians, and they’d just be focussed down by the delvers, hammered by spells and arrows to the point where they were obliterated the moment they reformed.

In other words, it was a delicate balance to strike.

While Elias blathered on, Thomas decided to look at the status sheets themselves. He normally didn’t, since he knew what powers he’d given to his critters by heart, but he hadn’t designed these.

Species: Crypt Guardian

D-Rank

Powers

Crypt Guardian’s Undead Constitution

Arcane Bandages

Curse Touch

empty

This thing was D-Rank? It made sense when approached from the angle that he’d gotten it at D-Rank, so logically, it’d match his Rank, and this was one of those creatures that didn’t exist in an unranked form, since it needed a power to funtion in the first place.

It also had a full set of abilities, which put somewhat of a damper on things. The first one, the constitution, was a must-have, obviously, and the ability to whip out bandages and use them to bind an enemy, as he interpreted the E-Rank power, was powerful as well.

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However, the last one was kinda … garbage, compared to what Thomas would have added. Curse Touch was a debuffing power that would afflict the victim with a magical plague upon being touched by the Mummy- er, Crypt Guardian’s, hand. Average power, highly delayed lethality, limited range … it was strong and fit the theme, but a Tatzelwyrm’s power would have been so much better.

Even if his creation had been limited to only applying the effect on contact with the hands, one of the supernatural effects of Tatzelwyrm blood was that it soaked through stuff nigh-instantaneously. It would travel along the shaft of a wooden lance in under a second, and just like that, it could be projected along the full length of a cloth wrapping faster than an enemy could struggle free of their bindings.

Normally, this would be the part where Thomas just went ahead and grabbed the monster’s pattern of a previous rank, leveleed it up again, and granted it the power he wanted it to have. But he didn’t have those patterns. He’d gotten the Crypt Guardian at D-Rank, so that was his weakest pattern.

… no, that wasn’t fair, he’d just gotten several D-Ranked patterns handed to him, creatures that even his Champions, which were still at E-Rank, might struggle with. Even if they weren’t optimized how he’d have liked them to be, they were still cool as hell. He loved them already, and he’d only looked at one pattern.

But before he got distracted and left the museum undefended, he filled it with as many Crypt Guardians as he could, a stopgap measure until he could prepare an informed defense.

Species: Feline Crypt Guardian

D-Rank

Powers

Guardian’s Undead Constitution

Environmental Bandaging

Ruinous Bite

empty

The second pattern belonged to the cat mummy. It had the same constitution as the Crypt Guardian, but its bandage control was focussed on stringing bandages up in the environment, both providing walkways for the undead cat and impediments for hostiles. And Ruinous Bite was good, causing necrosis in anything it bit while applying the same curse the Crypt Guardian’s touch would.

Admittedly, Thomas would have gone for a power based on the horrifically nasty venom of the Fer de Lance, but that would barely have made a difference.

Either way, that thing was neat, and he still had a third “mummy” to look at.

Species: Guardian Bull

D-Rank

Powers

Guardian’s Undead Constitution

Self-Repair

Annihilating Charge

empty

The Guardian Bull was the tank of the Guardian trio. A constitution power, a regeneration power, and a charge attack that would toss away enemies upon contact while, once again, cursing them.

Once again, that wasn’t quite how Thomas would have done it, the same mass-increasing power that boosted Dexter’s fists would have been his preference. But he wasn’t nearly as annoyed as he had been about the Crypt Guardian itself.

Oh, the fun he’d have with these critters … and the others, of course.

Species: Marble Hoplite

D-Rank

Powers

Marble Constitution

Phalanx March

Stoneformed Bulwark

empty

The Marble Hoplite was awesome. A constitution power that allowed the statue to live and move, a second power that would protect the Hoplite from attacks based on how many other Hoplites were around it, and finally, an ability that allowed them to manifest stone pillars from the ground.

The process was slow, but they were durable as hell and the power seemed to be designed for creating chokepoints. And even if it wasn’t, that was how Thomas would use it.

He’d have to design their room around these powers, though.

Species: Shattering Poltergeist

D-Rank

Powers

Spectral Constitution

Bonded Telekinesis

Splinter Bomb

empty

And then there was this thing. Yet another constitution, which seemingly every creature in this group had, though this one was a little different. A sentient mass of energy immune to direct physical attacks, though vulnerable to mana- and power-based attacks. In theory.

In practice, it turned out that this thing needed to bond to a whole bunch of ceramics, one of which it would find itself inside, though it could switch homes at the drop of a hat. And it had telekinetic control over these ceramics, able to hurl them about the place, once they broke, they’d reappear in a few seconds, but if the one it was in was destroyed, so was the Poltergeist. Thomas strongly suspected that the minimum Rank for this creature was E, where they’d have both their constitution and “home”.

Splinter Bomb, meanwhile, was exactly what it sounded like. Whatever the Poltergeist threw exploded. Violently.

Species: Spiritus Machina

D-Rank

Powers

Spectral Constitution

Inorganic Possession

Possessive Restoration

empty

And finally, this was something else. On its own, the Spiritus Machina was utterly useless on its own. But it could animate objects on its own, both mechanical machines, and anything designed to be moved by others. Such as swords, uniforms, and the like.

This was another creature that likely had to exist at E-Rank, minimum, with the combination of its Constitution and its ability to possess objects being what made it what it was.

Depending on the exact “shell”, the Spiritus would have certain abilities, but also weaknesses. Specifically, they would die if their shell was destroyed, or if an exposed part of their body was struck by a supernatural attack, and the attack wouldn’t even have to be that powerful.

For example, a sword being used as a shell would create a spectral figure wielding the sword, except the figure was vulnerable as all get out. One hit to any part of that body and that’d be it. But they’d be fast. Very fast.

Armor or clothing, on the other hand, might prevent direct destruction via the exploitation of that weakness, but the shell itself could be destroyed directly using even perfectly mundane or supernatural but underpowered tricks.

And something really solid, like plate armor, might not be as easy to completely destroy, but it could be separated. All someone would have to do was rip off the helmet and move it far enough away from the main body to tear the Spiritus in half, thereby killing it.

These things could also be combined if their shells belonged together, like an armor-possessing Spiritus wielding a sword-Spiritus, doubling the attack power of the combination.

All that being said, though, their real value would come from being able to possess machines, like the various stuff Thomas knew he’d find at the Imperial War Museum when he finally got around to installing a subcore there. And until then, these creatures would make for utterly invaluable tokens for delvers looking to get the subway cars moving again. Or save on gas for their regular cars, for that matter.

And who was to say that with enough of these, he couldn’t get the Belfast moving again? The light cruiser moored on the Thames certainly cut a striking figure, though it might be a step too far. That thing had guns with a range of fourteen miles, making it a threat to even the things beyond the jungle. The government might get a teensy bit mad if he reactivated it.

But other than that and the distance from his Dungeons, there wasn’t an issue. “Possessive Regeneration” was a supremely weird name, and he was damn near certain it was meant to be the other way around, but ultimately, that wasn’t what this was about. The important thing was what it did, and that the power worked.

This particular ability would allow the Spiritus to regenerate its shell, restoring consumables, ammunition, and the like, while also fixing damage. Even if that damage was a warship being retrofitted to serve as a museum.

Oh, the things he could get up to with these new creatures … but first, he had to settle something. Namely, how could he protect all these priceless treasures?

The obvious solution was to just absorb them, get the patterns, and then create as many as he needed.

And yet … that felt wrong. Like he was destroying the original, and just creating a copy. An exact copy, down to the last molecule, but a copy nonetheless. Which felt, well, wrong.

Would he have to move all of these things by hand now, just because he was feeling a little neurotic?

Thomas sighed, had every spider monkey in his Dungeon simultaneously facepalm, and tried to come up with something good. What about using Spiritus Machinae to animate the subway trains, and using those to move stuff?

That was a possibility, but it’d take forever. And he’d have to pack everything up first.

Then, he had a lightbulb moment. What if he could temporarily “store” the pattern the way he did with his champions during the creation, pulling them into his core and spitting it back out in his main Dungeon?

He considered it for a moment, and then went ahead and tried it, using a random vase that didn’t look too important or unique. He used the Sub-Core to pull it inside himself, then spat it back out in his main core room. It shattered … because he’d manifested it next to his core, several centimeters above the floor, like an idiot.

After another orgy of facepalms, Thomas absorbed the shards, merged the patterns to create an intact vase, and placed that on the floor. Admittedly, he’d just gained the permanent pattern, making that one of a potentially infinite number of copies, but at least it wasn’t gone forever.

Even so, proof of concept achieved, he could now start zapping everything over. Sure, he had to spend quite a bit of time digging out the space and making sure it was adequate for museum pieces, but felt it was worth it.

And actually, it turned out to actually be more than just “fine”. He gained information every time a piece passed through him, including the order of the Benin Bronzes, bronze plaques that had apparently been taken from the area of modern-day Nigeria. They were a historical record of the ancient kingdom, but they weren’t numbered or the like, so their order wasn’t known, making them nigh-impossible to read.

But now, for the first time in literal centuries, someone knew how to properly display them. That was cool. So cool, in fact, that he had to recall Jan just so the monkey could walk up and down in front of the wall of plaques, pretending to be a researcher or something, studying the historical sight.

Thomas tore himself away soon enough, though, and began to create a proper defense of his new museum.