Uncle Uter had been doing push-ups when I made my way over to the house. His brow suffused with sweat as his body went up and down and back up again. The continuous training had made his arms thicker while reducing the circumference of his waist. Yet, for all those improvements, he still looked, frail. At least, he did so from my new perspective.

He had been a giant of a man for practically my whole life and this place had made him small.

'No.' I thought. 'Its the opposite. This place has made me huge and its affecting how I see him.'

I groaned as I started to realize just how true that statement was. The old me had been slightly smaller than him in stature, though I was still growing. The new me towered over him as a boss monster towered over its prey. The old me had been skinny and somewhat frail. The new me could have made heavyweight champions faint with an errant look of disapproval.

'It doesn't matter.' I told myself. 'Uncle Uter won't mind. He's always been there for me. He'll get used to it in no time.'

"Hey uncle." I called out as I made my way over to him.

He froze in response. Stopping his exercises to stand as quickly as he could manage.

His eyes went over my form and grew suspicious.

"Uh, you were doing pretty good for a moment there. New record?"

"Who are you and what do you want?" He asked, taking me by surprise.

"What?"

"I asked you what you wanted. Sir. What can I do for you today?"

"Uncle, its me." I stammered. Not quite sure what else to say.

"First off. I'm not your uncle." He said dryly. "And secondly, I have no idea who you are. A relative of Russell's, if I had to guess. But no one I've had the..."

He paused to grimace.

"The pleasure of meeting."

"Uncle, I... stop it. This isn't funny."

"Oh, I quite agree. I don't think whatever prank you're trying to pull is funny in the slightest. Here I am. Waiting for my nephew to return home at this ungodly hour and thinking about how long I'm going to ground him for after leaving us sick with worry and suddenly you come along. Looking like you just finished beating a whole team of wrestlers to death with their own championship belts and calling me uncle. No, sir. I don't think this is funny at all. And you better turn your meaty backside right around this instant before I decide to do something about it."

I... couldn't rightly describe the sound I made. Something close to a squawk, if I had to guess.

"Uncle Uter! Its me! Cecil!"

He snorted.

"I saw Cecil yesterday and I'm fairly certain he wasn't two-timing steroids and human growth hormone then. Get out."

'This can't be real. This isn't happening.' I thought, as my emotions spiraled.

Then a knot started forming in my guts. As the reality of the situation set in.

'How the hell am I supposed to prove that its me!? I don't look anything like I used to?'

"M-my eyes! Look at my eyes!"

"Yeah, you've got similar eyes. So? Tons of people have the same eye color."

I balked.

"W-wait! There's something else! My Analyzer! It has my name and all my stats! I can show you!"

He narrowed his eyes. Looking at the device on my wrist.

Then he began fiddling with his own, until a beeping sound came off of mine.

His eyebrows rose.

"Wait a second. Did you install a family tracking feature without telling me first."

"All the Analyzers come with the feature pre-installed. All I had to do was prove that I'm your guardian in order to program mine so that it can track yours. Also. What the actual fuck Cecil!"

The swearing took me by surprise. So much so that I babbled incoherently for a few seconds after he'd started yelling.

"Uncle... language."

"Language my hot wet ass! What the fuck happened to you!? Did Russell do this? Has he been giving you drugs?"

He started gnashing his teeth together. Clenching his fists so tightly that his knuckles went white. The opposite was happening to his face at the same time. His cheeks glowing red with pent up fury, resembling nothing so much as a forge billowing with flames.

"I swear! I swear that when I find that son of a bitch I'll wrap my hands around his throat and...!"

'Get yourself fucking killed.' I thought with rising panic.

"Stop it! Nobody did anything to me and nobody made me take any drugs! I'm clean uncle! I swear!"

Well, that wasn't strictly true. Coach Russell had thrown me ass-first into a literal hell-swamp and I hadn't felt clean since. But something told me that bringing up those facts now was a bad idea.

Instead, I walked closer to him. Grabbing him by his arms and steadying him.

"I look like this because of my core."

"Your core?" He asked, finally calming down some as he looked me up and down.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

"You finally got one?"

"I did. I mean, I do. Here."

I lifted my new shirt so that he could see.

There, on my chest. Right above my heart, was a diamond. Dyed in vibrant shades of yellow and red. The main gem was about the size of my fist, with tendrils snaking their way all over my torso.

"That's a. Wow. That really is much bigger than I thought it would be."

He frowned.

"Does it hurt?"

"No. Not at all. I fact, I don't think I've ever felt better! I feel, so alive and full of energy. Even after everything I've been through today. I should be at the end of my rope. I should be ready to fall flat on my face and sleep for days on end. But I don't feel that at all. I feel like I could do this for another twenty-four hours and still not get tired. Which is stupid and makes me sound stupid. But that's how much energy I feel like I have. Its so, so different from anything I've ever felt."

"I see." He said. Looking me up and down with a more, quizzical expression.

"What did you mean, after everything you've been through today?"

I froze.

Realizing just how big of a blunder I had stumbled onto. Now, I could have told him the truth.

That his constant complaining about me going into the dungeon had gotten on my nerves.

That I was so fed up with him and all his nagging that I decided fishing down in the dungeon was preferable to being in the house.

That this decision had almost resulted in serious bodily harm when we fought a boss and that it definitely resulted in serious psychological harm when coach Russell got a hold of us.

That this had then led to me aiding and abetting his boss when he decided to become a menace to the public in the hopes that it would give people magic before the world ended.

That I had literally made a whole host of actual, honest-to-goodness monstrosities that shrugged off shotgun blasts as if they were mean comments.

That these same monsters had almost ripped an entire police department apart while me and my partners in crime watched.

Somehow, I got the feeling that this was not the way to go.

"I... I was training very hard."

"This was your day off." Uncle Uter replied. Coolly shutting down my lame excuse.

I clamped up.

"Cecil. What did you do?"

"Nothing out of the ordinary!" I lied through my teeth. "I mean, yeah. I did go down into the dungeon and I did hang out with a few friends. But nothing strange happened or anything."

His frown deepened.

"Cecil."

"Yes?"

"I don't like that you don't trust me." He said somberly. "I know nothing I could do would ever make me one of the so called cool kids. That's fine. I don't want to be a cool kid to you. I want to be your family. Your dependable guardian. I want to be someone you can rely on. Someone you can seek out when the going gets tough. No matter how tough it is or how many things you have going on at the time. That is my duty. To you and to your father."

He paused. His hands trembling as he held his sides.

"I... I see you like this. All cagey. And I can't help but feel like I'm failing you."

"You're not failing me uncle." I answered hastily. "You're awesome. I know.... I know you only nag me because you're worried about me. I don't mind." The words stabbed at my heart as I said them. Guilt rising up to consume me.

I was suddenly hit with the realization that he had probably been waiting here all day for me. Probably since the moment he realized I had left.

"Look, enough about that. Yes, I pushed myself. Maybe a little too hard. But it was all worth it! Look! Look at my status!"

I showed him my Analyzer more closely. Urging him forward so that he could see the screen.

Name:

Cecil Fowler

Core:

[Life] (7th Stage) / Gains skills from: [Adaptation] / [Constitution] / [Healing] / [Hunger] / [Effort] / [Animal] / [Plant]

Level:

1

Vitality:

7

Endurance:

6.3

Potency:

4.6

Precision:

4.3

Fortitude:

6.3

Skills:

[Drain] / [Perseverance] / [Heal] / [Transform] / [Spawn]

His eyes remained impassive.

"That's... a lot of numbers."

"Yes. A lot of numbers." I agreed.

He went silent for a few more seconds. His face softening and hardening as he contemplated.

"Cecil. I..."

He stopped. Catching himself at the last moment.

"Yes?" I prompted.

"I'm proud of you." He finally managed. "These stats are all so much higher than mine. I can't begin to imagine what you must have gone through to get them to this level."

"It wasn't that hard." I lied once more. "I just kept at it. You know. Never skipping leg day and all that."

Uncle Uter nodded.

"So, what happens now?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, what will you be doing now that you have what I assume is a very good core?"

"Uh, I'll keep training in the dungeon?"

"Why?"

It was, such a complicated question.

I mean, no it wasn't.

It was fairly straightforward as far as questions went.

The truth was that I needed to keep training because I needed to be stronger. And I needed to be stronger for several important reasons.

First of all. Because Mr. Robertson had been kind enough to explain more details about the incoming apocalypse. Such as the food riots.

As bad as uncle Uter believed things would get; they were about to become a whole lot worse.

No one would be spared from monster attacks. No one would be safe from sudden invasions. No one could say with complete certainty that some kaiju wouldn't waltz in and decide to make your city his new nest.

Not even powerhouses like Mr. Robertson or coach Russell. It was why all the homes in this place had built-in bunkers that snaked deep into the earth. Why all the buildings placed above and below ground were built to such exacting standards.

Being in this town of Preppers and next to a dungeon would help, but I wasn't about to take any chances. I wanted, no, I needed to be strong enough to put down a boss monster or two by myself so that I could protect my family if it ever came to that.

The second, reason was that, simply put, the world was depending on me. Because my skills would improve in strength and versatility when I got stronger and them getting stronger would mean I could make a lot more monsters a lot more quickly. Which would mean that I could create better, deeper artificial dungeons for people outside of our little commune to get powers in.

Lastly, there was, a third reason. A more personal one. Shame.

It was, growing inside of me now. Shame that I'd done that to the people of the Alaskan town. Shame that I couldn't make them stronger.

The feelings were conflicting, and painful in how they roiled within me. Not only had I terrorized their town at the behest of coach Russell and Mr. Robertson, but all the harm I did only gave them so much magic to work with. When the end finally came, they'd be twice or three times as strong as regular people, while I'd be leaps and bounds ahead of even the best of them. I knew that getting stronger was a hard process that required a lot of know-how, and I had still agreed to do the bare minimum. What's more, I couldn't decide on whether I wanted to do more or nothing at all.

'I don't want to hurt people. I don't want to lose myself in rage like the monsters I made. But I also don't want to cripple the foundations of people I help. I don't want them and all their children to be weak while I stay super strong. Its unfair. It'll make life for all humans unfair for the rest of time. The people of this town will be able to bulldoze through hundreds of people from outside. And they'll have the Dungeon all to themselves.'

I clenched my fists harder. I knew this was unacceptable. But I also knew that Mr. Robertson was doing all he could to help the people outside.

'Or is he? Would it be so bad if the governments find out about the Dungeons? I mean, we have a proven method of improving ourselves. We have proof that the monsters are coming. Also, Mr. Robertson is loaded. Someone like him has to have some kind of influence with politicians, right?'

It was a whole load of problems tangled up together. It was a complex game with many layers and no one would tell me the rules. I wanted to have everything. The wellbeing and improvement of people without the guilt of having to attack them. Without having to make monsters. But I didn't know how to make that happen. I didn't know what I could do about it. Except keep going so that we could do more good in the future.

"Uncle, the truth is that...."

"Yes?" He asked once more.

I stiffened. Allowed some tension to leave me. Looked him in the eyes; and told him everything.