The room was large and cavernous. With largely barren stone walls surrounding all the new delvers like some gargantuan coffin.

The design made it so that each and every one of the attackers would have a perfectly clear line of sight to shoot at the Sunflower Brutes streaming in by the dozen. While also making it easy for our units to swarm forwards as one big wall of plant-like biomass.

The fact that all our units would be decimated at once was not a problem. As a matter of fact, it was the intended outcome.

The soldiers and the officers and even the paramedics wouldn’t be getting any kind of improvement from simply shooting the monsters they came across and the whole point of this trip was for them to see what the Dungeon was for themselves and spread the word. The point was for them to tell as many people as possible what happened and for that information to draw others to the Dungeon.

Because if Casper really was trying to bring down great-grandpa Carlyle’s plans, then everything needed to be moved up in the schedule. The people of the world needed to have somewhere accessible for them to train in and it was our duty to have as many people as possible get decent cores.

‘May as well do some good while waiting for the traitor to come get us.’

We had already begun formulating plans for when that time came of course. Not just the obvious ones relying on the much-improved Pool and the Magic absorbed from the Core, but ones that made better use of the… resources we had available. And the Skills our new continuous mind shared.

‘Patience.’ We chided. ‘Patience. The Drones on the fourth are digging their tunnels and our combined minds are hard at work on the experiments. Patience, for Casper cannot outpace our growth.’

He would come. Of that we were certain. It was the only thing that made sense from his point of view. The Dungeon Core was too great a price. Even if Mercy’s core could replicate the food growth, the Dungeon Core was too useful, too dangerous to be left alone.

‘He will come.’ We reasserted. ‘He will come and we will be ready.’

We commanded our nearest Queens to shift their attentions to our new experiment, as some of the Core’s overflowing Magic went towards keeping it together for a bit longer this time.

After that, our attention went back to the cubic chamber.

Where the sounds of gunshots were bouncing around and echoing endlessly off the barren walls. Deafening the human occupants even as the Sunflower Brutes were torn to bloody ribbons that bled greenish-black ooze.

Yet for all that, the soldiers kept shooting. Kept screaming. Unloading everything they had in the face of an impossible retreat.

“AAAAAAAAHH!!! HOOOOOLY SHIIIIEEEEETTT!!!”

“I FUCKING HATE YOU GUNTHER! AAAAAAHH!!!”

The Brutes kept walking. Kept coming. Three more stepping forwards to soak up hot lead missiles as soon as any one of the frontliners faltered and collapsed.

Soon enough, the floor was completely covered in the sticky juices.

The biomass seeping into the hardened stones below them, as well as into the soldier’s own boots.

Yet the soldiers paid the wet, sticky feelings and the smells and the deafening roars of their own gunfire no heed.

They kept firing.

And firing.

And…

“Click.”

One magazine fell silent. Having devoured its own clip and the extra ammunition the soldier had been carrying.

One by one, other joined in the silence.

Until all the soldiers and the officers and the paramedics were stuck there. With Brutes in the front and a solid, unyielding wall behind them. With wet, pulpy green ooze below them and the softly-glowing crystals and mushrooms above them.

And through it all, the silence reigned supreme.

One officer sobbed.

“I fucking hate you Gunther.”

Yet even as he spoke, the police officer in question picked up one of the fallen shovels and ran forwards.

“WAAAAAAAAAGGGGG!!!!!”

The Sunflower Brutes halted. Mostly because we who were controlling them directly were utterly taken aback by the sheer size of this man’s…

Well.

He was very impressive.

The shovel’s edge landed square in the chest of one of the Brutes.

The Brute did not budge.

“Oh sh…”

The Brute punched him.

Hard. The blow sent him flying like a freaking ragdoll.

Until the guy struck the other in the back and they all crumpled in one huge pile of loose limbs.

‘Alright.’ We decided. ‘We’re sending one Brute at a time for now. That should give them a chance to recover.’

The Brute who had been struck sauntered forwards while the rest stayed back.

“Wait!” The one called Gunther shouted. “The rest are staying back! I think…”

He gulped.

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

“I think they’re trying to communicate with us!”

He stepped forwards while his friend was trying to swipe away the little chirping birds flying by his head.

“Are you… are smart?” He advanced some more. “Do you come in peace?”

The Brute punched him and shattered three teeth in his upper jaw.

Gunther crumpled like a bunch of wet tissue paper and all the others behind him roared in response. Determined to go down fighting until the last moment.

They all surged as one and begun attacking the Sunflower Brute. Hacking off chunks of his spongy muscles and thicker tendons while the Brute slowly tried to swat them away. Now that they were fully immersed in the idea that this was a fight to the death, they started falling into a rhythm. Surrounding the bigger monster like a bunch of cavemen working together to bring down a mammoth. Each person taking light swipes with their shovel without fully committing, before then falling back before the counterattack came from my unit.

It took them two minutes to bring down the first Brute.

Which was a bit surprising because we had intentionally made them as strong as an early level 1 so that they could be farmed easily.

‘Though we could have been mistaken about how weak those monsters were supposed to be. Rippers did go down to single spear thrust back in the day. Though we did have our friends there to help us. And Coach Homer. Hmnn.’

We began using [Spawn] to birth a special Saboteurs from the walls beyond the chamber, but otherwise allowed the fight to keep raging as it had been.

The Brutes came one at a time. Slowly but steadily draining the delver’s stamina.

A few gasps of exertion soon turned into a few dozen that came and went without being acknowledged. The sounds of panting now resonating within the cubic chambers as the musical sound of gunfire had moments before.

We could see them now.

Tiring like normal men. Their movements slowing once the adrenaline began to wear off and their lungs could no longer function without giving off the feeling of being on fire.

Yet the men kept fighting and when one seemed to falter and slow, another would push them away before swatting the latest Brute’s massive arms away with the edge of his shovel.

Those edges were becoming more and more blunted however. The steel being ground down and bent out of place through repeated strikes.

It was a slow process, but one that did not look as if it could be overcome.

The soldiers did not stop.

They knew, of course.

But none of them ever considered to stop the fight.

Even the paramedics had joined in by this point. Grabbing the fallen, twitching limbs of the fallen Brutes or the empty rifles and using them as improvised clubs.

‘They are wonderful.’ We thought to ourselves. ‘This, this is how humans should be. They should be working together to beat all the odds, regardless of how bleak the picture looks. This is the true essence of humanity. This is what we’ve been fighting to preserve. The ambition that we have been hungering for all this time.’

We did not increase the difficulty, but merely allowed the Brutes to keep streaming in. One after another.

Slowly wearing down the delvers until their limbs felt as heavy as iron bars and their lungs burned so hot that the air did not reach their arteries. Until their eyes strained to stay open and their feet could no longer support their weight.

The moment had to be perfect.

And roughly 24 minutes later, that moment came.

The Saboteur broke through the Brute’s rear lines. Slashing multiple units to bloody ribbons with a bastard sword made from level 3 bones. All while still retaining the shape of a human being.

“Come with me if you want to live!” My unit shouted.

It was a small thing. A few words spoken over the din of battle.

We had not even expected everyone to hear them.

Yet the sudden appearance sent a jolt of energy surging up the delver’s bodies. Their beaten, battered shells standing up straighter as their eyes burned once more.

“WAAAAAAAAAGH!” The same man shouted. Now driving his nearly-useless shovel into the Brute in front of him.

“WAAAAAAAAAGH!” The others called out in turn. Rushing onwards and ramming the Brutes blocking their paths with their own weapons or shoulders or otherwise kicking them in the center with all the strength they could muster.

An opening had been made, and all the others ran in. Joining my disguised Saboteur as he kept cutting and slicing and dicing his way through the remaining sacrificial units with all the grace and power that came with his level.

He must have looked like a warrior out of legend then. A Samson or Hercules who could move with superhuman speed and strike with superhuman strength. With prowess that defied the limits of what mortal men should have been capable of.

In other times, that prowess might have aroused suspicion, but now, it only lit the fires of hope within their hearts.

‘Just a little more!’ They all thought in unison. ‘Just a little more and I’ll make it! Just a little more and I’ll survive! Just a little more and I’ll see my family again! Just a little more! Just a little more!’

And so they fought on.

Well beyond their own limits. With the promise of survival leading them on.

With the promise of another day being dangled in front of them.

‘They are magnificent.’ We thought in awe. ‘Like diamonds in the rough. They have the makings of true heroes. Is this… is this what we looked like to coach Russell? All those times we refused to give up? All those times we swallowed our hurt pride and kept running up and down those blasted hills and down the length of the blasted Dungeon? Is this what he saw in us?’

‘It is the beauty of effort.’ We answered ourselves with smug satisfaction.

‘Humans are the most powerful, the most beautiful, the most… human, when they are giving their all. This contrast is why slackers are so ugly. So full of wasted potential. This indominable spirit is what makes us special. This hunger for hope is what makes us different from simple beasts. This is why we decided to strive for our ambition. So that everyone, even those born with weaker Cores could have the same chance to shine.’

We nodded to ourselves, and begun working on the new Skill once more. Weaving flesh and bone together as Elsie and her ilk weaved minds.

‘It will be ready soon.’ We mused. ‘Though there are still kinks to be ironed out.’

‘Doesn’t matter.’ We chided ourselves. ‘It will be enough to last us a few seconds. More than enough to kill Casper.’

‘If Casper is foolish enough to stay still for a few seconds.’ We bit back. ‘It needs more work. Much more work. We must work harder ourselves. Faster.’

The flesh undid itself and went back to how it once was and we cursed in turn. Letting the queens help while our attention went back to the Saboteur.

“What the fuck were those things!?” The brave man asked. Kicking the nearby corpse with the very last shreds of strength he had left.

“Sunflower Brutes.” The Saboteur answered flatly.

“They are the usual monsters of this Dungeon.” He lied. “The walls here keep birthing them and they then get together to fight off anything that comes down.”

“Well it sure would have been nice of them to give us a head start.” Another man, a soldier spat. “I wouldn’t have gone down here into the freaking Stygian Abyss looking for some dead kid if I knew there were going to be freaking plant monsters popping out of the fracking walls like fracking mushrooms all over the place! I mean, shit! We got some white prosperous in storage somewhere. Probably. Let’s just get back to the surface and fill this place up until you can see the smoke cloud from Cancun!”

All the other soldiers agreed with this opinion.

Vehemently so.

“Okay, that’s one way to approach the issue.”

The Saboteur spoke softly.

“But what are you going to do when the other monsters start popping out on the surface because you destroyed the Dungeon?”

None of the soldiers said anything.

“What do you… Oh.” One of them narrowed his eyes. “You’re not a civi, are you sir?”

“No. And I lost my identification, so you’ll have to take me at my word.” The Saboteur lied effortlessly.

“The monsters here don’t just try to kill us. They make us stronger when we fight them. Make us capable of doing things that normal humans would never be able to do.”

“Like that kid said in the video.” Another man interrupted.

“Not everything he said was true, especially not about the food, but yes.” My pawn confirmed. “The best thing to do now is for everyone in the city to take turns coming down here and beat up some monsters with whatever they can get their hands on. The authorities are already on the issue of distributing food, but people need to get Cores in order to be able to defend themselves. That it the official position of my agency.”

“Which is?”

“None of your business.”

The men deflated somewhat at that. A few even getting hard looks from their fellows as they glared at the unit in disguise. No one shouted in protest though.

“All right.” The brave one spoke through a hiss. “What are these Cores we keep hearing about and how do we go about getting them?”