The dungeon core was busy crafting his ‘son’ out of sand and stone. Mix a bit of river water in, engerise the system and you would have yourself a healthy baby boy. Except it wouldn’t be a baby, no it was the dungeon town lords bastard son. A bastard son that just so happened to be the child of a maid that was fired for sleeping around and died recently and tragically. The core wasn’t picky with it’s methods, only results and consequences.
The core was mildly annoyed at this as it had to withhold power from important terraformation aesthetics in order to craft properly. It was the first time it had had to do so in years. It didn’t lack the processing power, that was impossible for dungeons, true dungeons at least. No, it lacked the finesse and power. To be exact, the entire dungeon was focusing on this one task, every single level of it and all of his spare cores.
Why? Well if he was spinning up another monster he would just make them perfect and be done with it. But no, he needed to make the damn thing imperfect down to the molecular level. If he didn't, a high level [Identify} could distinguish it as a blood golem of a monster or some such. Not to say it wasn’t, any creature created by a dungeon was a monster. Just that this one was a created human at around 16 years of age, including all the little imperfections. Brow just a little to the right, nose angled slightly and a little hawkish, eyes beedy and sunken possibly malnourished, lips not the right color, yet the same shade as his ‘father’s’, slightly malnourished body yet broad shouldered from menial work. All these things were slight but noticeable if one starred in a mirror for long enough. All of these things were necessary if the child was going to stay in society for long periods of time.
It was strange, people wouldn’t notice a perfect being at first sight besides and odd attraction they couldn’t place, hyper advanced chemical and conceptual processes at work. But after the initial infatuation they would find the perfection ‘creepy’ and ‘unsettling’. It was hilarious, if it were not incredibly infuriating. Why couldn’t people just follow their natural processes? Why did they have to make things so complicated when people(monsters) just wanted to fit in and do their jobs? The ones the core ordered them to do…
But people were like that, and once one found you ‘creepy’ they all found you ‘creepy’. It didn’t matter how infatuated they were with you before. Like some kind of ultimate switch, they would all suddenly turn. Ironically it was to the monsters benefit most of the time. It did mean that the doppelgangers and mimics were both the best at fitting in and the most incompetant, the added in small but noticeable ‘imperfections’ to their disguises and the total incompatent ‘mediocrity’. It was why you could never fill a town with mimics or doppels, they would all be perfectly, and more importantly identically, imperfect. So he only held them in key places. And ironically it was the jealous ‘creeper’ and ‘weirdo’ that found themselves at the pointed bronze tip of the accusations…
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But when the core was done with the boy he wouldn’t be any of those. The biggest problem he would have is if he was away from the core’s influence for extended periods of time. Luckily he probably wouldn’t be at school for the decade it would take for the boy to develop, heaven forbid, independent reasoning, or worse, a personality!
And this is why the core would have preferred to be shifting grain thickness of sand in the pit right now. I mean look! That adventurer is tracking sand all over the floor but it has both too fine particles and too thick particles so that it is impossible for the adventurer’s tracker to realize they are walking into a trap! The entire point of the sand was to make an easy trace, but now it is ruined and the adventurers will all die too quick for his liking. But no, he is busy building bronchial tubes and stomach lining and all sorts of cellular shit, hell that reminds him, if the boy doesn’t shit in 20 hours he is going to seem out of place. He should get on that. The core was so glad that he ‘invented’ the sundial at least and introduced the hours system, though screw 24 hours, it was now a nice even 20 hours to a day, 100 minutes to an hour, and 100 seconds to a minute, not that they had any instruments accurate enough to track that....
Whatever, it was done, the adventurers were dead and it would only scare some of the would be adventurers away from taking more risks into the depths of the dungeon. He only needed to up the rewards for the next month to keep ahead of his quotas he wanted to fill to stay on track.
The core looked at the finished spinning of the boy. He opened his eyes, tested his motor functions, all green. Even better the system had taken his que and the boy read as 16 yo child. Even though he had ‘just been’ made by the system, the system recognized his work at artificially aging bone microfractures and cellular degeneration. Not to mention failing mana retention of those aged approximately 16, which was admittedly still thriving and growing but was ticking away as well like all biologics were.
Now that that was done, oh clothes, put those on… Now, just need to meet dear old philanderer dad, have an argument about dearly departed [Dead] mother, and be shipped out to the capitol to both fill a quota and hide a ‘scandal’ in plain sight. Win win win.