I had been able to connect to the Core and to all my units from way, way above the battlefield thanks to Elsie melding our minds together again.

We really could have used James's help as well, since he was way, way higher level, but he went on and on about immorality and psychological scars and whatnot.

Regardless, we reached down. Taking Pool-Cecil and all his inventiveness and spite and bloodlust and proficiency along for the ride.

The Diversion, as we named the new unit, was massive.

The outer carapace was that of an armored caterpillar. With limbs and a coloration that resembled the carnivorous specimens in Hawaii. Complete with serrated barbs and reddish-brown hues along its outer shell.

It was more or less the size of three buses crudely stapled together, with a chitinous shell as thick as tank armor and with a second spongy layer of cartilage underneath all that protection.

It was made to be sturdy and strong and slow.

The idea being that it would draw the fire and cameras away from the main entrance so that the three of us could descend down to the Dungeon Core and keep it safe.

It was a good plan.

It was a plan that showed a lot of promise.

It was a plan that didn't work.

Turns out that half the country had news helicopters inbound for Detroit seconds after the uploaded documents leaked the location of the Dungeon. Not to mention the local news and police helicopters that were taking off minutes after we left.

And those things are really, REALLY good at spotting things.

James pretty much assured me that we'd be spotted in seconds. Even with the Distraction throwing a colossal tantrum as it emerged and sauntered over to the now fleeing cars and motorcycles.

The cameras were just too good. And millions upon millions were watching. Someone was bound to catch something.

So, I was forced to beat my wings harder and harder. Reaching higher altitudes before diving towards a seemingly abandoned apartment complex two blocks over in order to escape the notice of the hungry cameras.

My connection to the Dungeon was not cut thanks to Elsie and so we stayed put around the area. Watching the skies got more and more crowded with helicopters and drones.

"We have an idea." We told grandpa.

"Oh really? Do tell." He snapped. Going over his phone and trying to call a bunch of numbers in quick succession.

We didn't need to read his mind to see how much success he was having.

In the distance the caterpillar was charging forwards. With surprising alacrity for something so big and bulky and fat. At first glance, each of its legs moved ponderously. Waving about in the air for a second and a half every single time the thing made to progress.

'It is big and impressive and gross.' We mused. 'But that doesn't make it anymore dangerous. Anyone with two working legs will be able to outrun it without any trouble. Perhaps even someone in a half-destroyed wheelchair.'

The thing would roar and rage and stomp on the ground, leading wide circular cracks in the dirty old pavement. Sending all the curious onlookers running for the hills like headless chickens.

The fact that the beast seemed to be missing on purpose didn't seem to occur to anyone. Though we didn't think that the normal, everyday people of the city were likely to stop and consider the ponderous nature of the monster.

'At least, not with the way the bullets are being shrugged off its hide.'

They were small bullets. Tiny, comparatively harmless things that would have barely been enough tickle a Ripper back in Dunstonberry. When the time came for monsters to roam free around the world, those handguns would come across as little more than toys.

'Expensive toys. Toys that give common men the confidence of champions. Toys that might have once given them the power of life and death. But toys nonetheless.'

"We can transform ourselves to look like Sunflower Brutes." We began. "Then we can sprint all the way back to the entrance and change back once we get underground."

"That's nice." James said smarmily. "So we can get underground without an issue. Perfect. That will only leave us sitting prettily while the entire weight of the United States' Military Industrial Complex descends on us like the booted heel of some great big titan."

He sighed and rubbed his eyes.

'The entire weight of modern militaries have failed. More than once.' We thought. 'Tunnel fighting is nasty business. As coach Russell is so fond of saying. So many of the modern world's toys rely on air power and on heavy, cumbersome things, that guzzle oceans of black gold with an unmatched ferocity.'

We looked over at the heavy caterpillar.

One of the helicopters had unloaded a salvo of missiles at it. All but one hitting true and exploding upon impact.

The explosions sent shockwaves rippling across the air. The sounds coming across like the thundering of a million drums.

The caterpillar did not stagger. It did not even flinch. Instead, it lumbered forwards again. Massive, clumsy legs still waiting hesitantly for every step. Its maw still open and roaring in feigned fury.

'That's a good pair of lungs on her.' We thought.

Grandfather kept talking.

"We can't afford to be around when that happens. The issue is not about getting in, it's about getting the Core out. As soon as humanly possible."

"Which is not going to happen unless we have a teleporter on hand." We pointed out. "All we can do now is hunker down and get ready for the worst. Everything will progress a lot more smoothly with us down there, instead of up here. Not only do we not have to worry about being seen, but we can keep absorbing Magic, filtered and digested Magic, straight from the Dungeon Core. Not to mention the advantages of placing ourselves at the heart of the swarm. Right now, our connection could still be severed and keeping it up outside the thick ambient magic of the Dungeon is expensive. Being down there is much more preferable to being out here."

James stopped in his tracks. Not saying anything.

"If the worst case scenario occurs, a Dungeon with ten or more floors will easily survive a nuclear strike or three. And we are confident that any of our formations can eviscerate normal troops with ease. We don't really play by the Geneva rules after all."

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We nodded in unison.

"If things start to look hopeless and no one comes over to rescue the Core, then we can at least place many more layers of defense between it and the surface before escaping. Ten floors will be a challenge. Twenty will be a nightmare. Anything close to what we achieved as a level 2 in Korea will be borderline impossible for anyone without Magic. No matter how many nukes they're willing to detonate. Not to mention..."

James Robertson fell forwards.

His phone slipping out from his limp fingers and cracking on the pavement. Even as his face made contact with the asphalt.

We stared. We blinked. We had been so surprised that our hands had not reached out to grab him.

But now they did. We touched him. [Healed] him. Felt his warm skin turn clammy and cold.

"How?" We asked. But we could not conjure an answer.

The very idea that this would happen to someone who was more than twice our level... Someone who competed with coach Homer and Russell...

It was unthinkable.

'And yet his skin is getting colder and his face is getting paler.' We realized with a start.

Then we blasted him with more and more Magic. Brute forcing power through [Heal] with a fervor that would have brought back the dead.

But James Robertson would not get better.

'Poison.' We thought. 'Casper. The men were so worried about this Raymond fellow that they did not suspect betrayal from within. But how? Toxins from the lowest floors of Dunstonberry? Curses? Stacked debuffs? Why were we not affected?'

'Because we would be easier to catch.' We decided. 'And because he would like us alive.'

We picked up grandpa and used [Bio-Engineer] on all our bodies. The more advanced version of [Transform] kicking in at once.

Then we rushed the entrance with all the speed we could muster.

Ignoring the fierce rain of lead and fire peppering the Distraction.

We made it through the gap in less than a minute, and from there, we descended further and further.

The first three floors had already been more or less completed in our absence and we did not feel the need to spend valuable time and Magic on changing them when the wolves were at the door.

Instead, we started working on the 4th floor at once. Sending cascading waves of Magic into [Terraform] and [Dungeoneer].

And into [Over-Mind].

And into [Seeker-Mind] as well.

'They hurt our grandfather.' We thought again and again. 'They may have kidnapped our uncle and aunt and cousin too. And our new siblings.'

The former had always seemed invincible to Elsie. A pillar as great and proud and tall as her own great-grandfather.

A hero to rival Siegfried and Achilles and Theseus.

Someone who could not be brought low.

And yet...

And yet...

'They will pay.' The voice of Pool Cecil resurfaced. Standing out past the blur that was our connection.

'They will all pay.'

We looked at Cecil's Analyzer.

[Vitality: 147 -> 147.2 (12 days) - (Monster hunting - estimated 7, 399 specimens killed directly. Monster hunting - estimated 93, 112 specimens killed indirectly. Absorbing additional processed Magic via a Skill. Continuous self-experimentation. Experimentation with skills.)]

[Endurance: 146.7 -> 147 (12 Days) - (Monster hunting - estimated 7, 399 specimens killed directly. Monster hunting - estimated 93, 112 specimens killed indirectly. Absorbing additional processed Magic via a Skill. Continuous self-experimentation. Experimentation with skills.)]

[Potency: 118.8 -> 120.1 (12 Days) - (Monster hunting - estimated 7, 399 specimens killed directly. Monster hunting - estimated 93, 112 specimens killed indirectly. Absorbing additional processed Magic via a Skill. Continuous self-experimentation. Experimentation with skills.)]

[Precision: 126.6 -> 127.2 (12 Days) - (Monster hunting - estimated 7, 399 specimens killed directly. Monster hunting - estimated 93, 112 specimens killed indirectly. Absorbing additional processed Magic via a Skill. Continuous self-experimentation. Experimentation with skills. Exercises involving Instant Activation. Exercises involving Free-Form Magic.)]

[Fortitude: 144.9 -> 145 (12 Days) - (Monster hunting - estimated 7, 399 specimens killed directly. Monster hunting - estimated 93, 112 specimens killed indirectly. Absorbing additional processed Magic via a Skill. Continuous self-experimentation. Experimentation with skills.)]

Name:

Cecil Fowler

Core:

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

Level:

3

Vitality:

147.2

Endurance:

147

Potency:

120.1

Precision:

127.2

Fortitude:

145

Skills:

[Drain] / [Perseverance] / [Heal] / [Bio-Engineer] / [Spawn] / [Terraform] / [Over-Mind] / [Dungeoneer] / [Seeker-Mind] / [Assimilate] / [Stored Potential]

We had been lax. We had been too focused on schoolwork and catching up. We had been too preoccupied by things that didn't matter.

'By distractions.' We realized sourly.

That would end tonight.

We kept sending Magic into the walls. Feeling the very stones beating like a million, million hearts in concert with our own.

Then we set about [Spawning] units. Thousands. Tens of thousands.

Riflelings and Sniperlings and Shotgunlings.

Shockers and Torchers and Corroders.

Venomlings and Napalmlings and Siege Slimes.

Infector Spiders and Freezers and Masterminds.

Subverters and Saboteurs and Swarm Harpies.

Swarmlings and Burrower Roaches and Swarm Queens.

Spymasters and High Harpies and Sage Minds to command them.

Most importantly, though, was the Pool. One jam-packed with purified Magic oozing out from the walls. Connected to the Dungeon Core itself. The very beating heart and soul of the Dungeon.

We allowed our [Heal] Skill to enter into overdrive.

Keeping grandpa alive.

All while Magic was forced into all three of our bodies. Keeping his own shell from withering under whatever affliction he'd bee struck with, while feeding us the same kind of processed energies Pool-Cecil had feasted on.

We closed our eyes then, and saw through every one of the tens of thousands of soldiers skittering about the walls and ceiling.

This floor, this throne room, would keep descending in its entirety, while the rest of the Dungeon expanded above us. While the intruders bashed their hosts bloody upon our gates.

They were coming now. In bigger numbers and much better armed. Police and the throngs of armed civilians trying to get a better look at the dead Distraction and the state troopers now arriving alongside the tanks and the other attack helicopters.

'They are victims too.' I mused. 'They are not to blame for what has happened. They had no way of knowing.'

'But we must keep them at bay. We must keep them away. For their own good, as well as ours.'

Yes. The people above did not have Cores yet. They did not have magic. Chances were most of them didn't really believe in it. Even after the food they ate vanished into their stomachs and didn't produce any waste.

Magic was just such a thing.

Admitting that it was real, admitting that science could not account for certain forces and that all laws of physics would soon be turned on their head was...

Frightening.

Exciting.

New and novel and incredible.

'We must control ourselves.' We reminded the three voices. Cecil, Elsie and the Pool.

'The people above us haven't done anything wrong. They are hungry and cold and afraid. We can help them It was always in the plan to help them. Forget Carlyle's plans. They've fallen apart. We can grow enough food on the surface to feed a hundred, hundred cities. We will need to send units and Magic far away from here, so that no one can connect the food production with the Dungeon itself. But we should still try to bring life to the surrounding countryside. We should not attack any of those who come to us with empty bellies.'

But if they descended...

Then they would be pushed back. With enough force to give them a challenge. Enough force to give them Cores of their own.

If they delved deeper though...

'No.' We decided. Our rage letting the Pool rise to the surface for a brief instant.

'Grandpa is here. Grandpa is weak. We will not let him die. We will continue to heal him.'

We paused so that all three voices could come together.

'To the people of the city, we will be saviors. To the people seeking magic, we will be teachers. And to the people seeking grandpa...'

All the units shivered as one. As did the walls and the stone and cement they were connected to.

Until the very foundations of the Earth shook with rage.

"We will be death."