Lucy leaned over the fence, beaming as she petted the tiny, woolly sheep nestled close to her. “You’re so cute,” she murmured, scratching one of the lamb’s little ears as it wobbled against her hand. Her cane rested nearby, hooked on the fence keeping the baby sheep safely enclosed. She’d spent nearly every morning here since Lukas had visited her parents. She’d heard the neighbors gossiping about how he’d yelled at her parents that day, but since then, they’d been… nicer. So much so that tonight, she didn’t have to eat alone in her room—they’d promised they’d eat together as a family. She’d even get a second serving! The thought made her stomach growl in anticipation.
Voices drifted in from down the road, and she hopped to the edge of the enclosure, balancing carefully on her good leg to peer over the gate. There, coming up the road, were the adventurers—Ulrick, Nole, and the others, moving slowly with bandages peeking out here and there. As they approached, she grinned and waved. “Hallo, adventurers! How was your adventure?”
Ulrick raised his brows in surprise at the warm welcome but returned her smile, though there was a hint of strain in his face. “Hey there, young lady, playing with the sheep, I see?”
“Yep!” She giggled. “The baby sheep needed some intense cuddling.” But her eyes soon drifted back up to the storm cloud looming over the swamp, dark and unrelenting. “So, what’s going on up there?” she asked, pointing at the cloud.
Ulrick’s face turned serious. “It’s dangerous up there, kid. It’s a dungeon… but a strange one.”
Nole, shaking her head with a grimace, added, “And the beasts are ugly! Better stay here with the cute little sheep.”
Lucy’s gaze moved to Nole, admiring her tall frame and enviable confidence. She glanced down at her own chest, a pang of jealousy stirring. Maybe if she could get a few more meals in, she’d grow a little more…
“Well, young lady,” Ulrick said with a nod, “we’d better be off. There’s beer waiting at the inn, and we’ve got a long journey ahead tomorrow. Got to report this dungeon to the guildmaster. You take care now, kiddo!” With a wave, the adventurers continued up the road, heading toward the village inn.
But as they passed her parents, who were busy feeding the older sheep by the barn, the healer, Vin, paused, his gaze lingering. He looked at her parents, then glanced back at Lucy, his tone flat as he muttered, “Kid’s too thin. Malnourished. Parents… well-fed. Bad parents. Bad people.”
Without a second glance, he continued on, his words sinking like stones in the silence he left behind. The other adventurers exchanged glances, their looks cool and wary, before moving on without a word. Lucy's parents turned to her, their expressions hardened. The warmth she’d felt all day drained away. She looked at her feet, biting back the tears prickling her eyes.
Dinner together was definitely off the table now, and any hopes of a second serving vanished.
Lucy wasn’t allowed to go inside while her mother was cooking, but she didn’t mind too much. She enjoyed watching the sunset paint the sky in soft pinks and oranges, and she liked seeing the other kids playing near the fields, their laughter drifting over like music. Then, suddenly, her mother’s voice cut through the air, calling her name. Lucy’s heart leaped—dinner was on after all!
She eagerly grabbed her cane and moved as fast as she could toward the house, her stomach rumbling with hunger as the rich, warm smell wafted from the open door. When she reached the table, she could barely sit still, practically bouncing with excitement as her mother placed two steaming pots on the table.
Her mother ladled a hearty soup from one pot into a deep bowl and placed it in front of herself, then filled another bowl with soup from the same pot for her father. She filled lucy´s bowl from the second pot before they all began to eat, and Lucy happily talked about her day, sharing every small detail about the animals and the baby sheep. Her parents were quieter, their responses brief as they exchanged unreadable glances across the table.
When the meal was finished, her mother’s tone was sharp and sudden. “Wash your hands and go to bed,” she ordered.
Surprised, Lucy nodded. Usually, she was allowed to stay up a bit later, but tonight, she suddenly felt a deep, irresistible drowsiness settling over her. Maybe I am a bit tired, she thought as she washed her hands, struggling to keep her eyes open. By the time she was dressed for bed, she could barely remember making her way to her room. She fell into bed, asleep almost before her head hit the pillow, sinking into a deep, heavy slumber.
Lucy stirred, her mind still clouded with heavy drowsiness. Her eyelids felt like lead, closing almost as soon as she tried to open them. I’m so tired… She shifted slightly, but something was off. This wasn’t her bed. Cold air nipped at her skin, mingling with strange, warm, damp breezes. Confused, she struggled to keep her eyes open.
“See, she’s waking up! You should have put more deeproot in her soup,” she heard her father’s voice hiss.
“Wha…” The word barely slipped out. Her throat felt thick, and her tongue was too heavy to form anything more. The only response was a sharp whisper from her mother.
“If you hadn’t needed a break every hour, we’d be back by now! That little nuisance has the whole village turned against us!” her mother’s voice snapped. “At least she’s light.”
Lucy’s eyes fluttered open, and her vision blurred in the dim light. She wasn’t in her bed or even at home. Her father was carrying her, and around her, she could make out dark trees and heavy, swampy fog. Panic stirred in her chest, but her thoughts were too sluggish, too muddled. What’s going on? Are we moving? Is something wrong at home?
Her mother’s voice was bitter as she whispered, “We’ll just say she ran away. The dungeon will take care of the rest. Just throw her down already! Argh! That rain drives me crazy!”
The words barely registered before Lucy felt herself slip from her father’s grasp. She fell, air rushed past her face. She felt her small body hitting the a tree branche, wich snapt under her. Then she felt the unforgiving ground, pain briefly lancing through her senses before everything went black.
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Adrian:
Bio-Mass: 324/1000. Adrian pulsed with satisfaction. The additions of new Collectors and Flesh Crawlers had boosted the bio-mass intake significantly, and the swamp was becoming more efficient by the day. His Collectors had even brought back a few surprises—bugs, mostly, but they provided useful DNA strains: acid glands, hardened carapace, small horns and insect-like wings. The wings weren’t strong enough to carry more than a toy car by Earth’s standards, but he figured he’d find a purpose for them soon enough.
The swamp was now dotted with Oculnids, their watchful eyes covering almost every area but the rim. There were still plenty of blind spots, but adventurers like the last group would eventually enter his field of view. The next time intruders ventured in, he’d be ready to watch them himself.
Meanwhile, the Parasite Queens had dug burrows near lakes and waterways, and as he watched a dead fish drift lazily downstream, he noticed something latched onto its gills—a parasite, happy and thriving. The strangest thing about his parasites was that he could feel them. Not emotions or health, just a faint signal echoing in his mind, like a quiet call saying, “I am here.” Some of the larger animals infected by his parasites now gave off the same silent beacon, expanding his awareness subtly through the swamp’s ecosystem.
Thinking about the potential of parasite-based infection, he idly checked over Chomp and noticed small holes along his mandibles and sickles. So that’s how the parasite eggs transferred—through small pores, designed to infect through close contact. Adrian was immersed in thoughts of expanding his dungeon’s reach through parasites when he suddenly felt… something.
A heavy thud. The sensation came from the rim, where the rocky edge circled his swamp. It didn’t seem to be moving, just lingering there, as if it had landed and stayed still. Ten minutes passed without any further motion.
Strange, he thought. New adventurers already? It didn’t feel right, though. The weight was different, somehow.
He sent a ping through the dungeon, and Chomp quickly scampered over, his eager clicks echoing in Adrian’s mind. “Chomp! Boy, would you check something out for me?”
Chomp:
Chomp zoomed through the swamp, leaping from tree to tree, the air rushing past his face in exhilarating bursts. He loved running for his master, knowing it made Master happy when he did things right. He’d only made Master mad once… when he’d peed in the hollow tree. Chomp cringed at the memory—Master had not liked that and made him promise to go outside in the swamp instead.
But today, he was on an important mission, and he swelled with pride as he picked up speed, his muscles tightening with every stride. In no time, he reached the rim, sniffing the air for anything unusual. Left! his instincts urged, and he darted in that direction, bounding over logs and pools of murky water. At one point, he jumped squarely onto an alligator’s head, launching himself off again before the sluggish beast could even snap at him. Stupid things are so slow! he thought with glee.
When he finally arrived at the spot, he stopped short, his eyes fixed on something unusual: a broken branch lay snapped on the ground, and next to it, a small human lay face-down in the mud, dirty and unmoving. Chomp skittered closer, tilting his head as he examined her. She was so… little, with barely any meat on her bones. She didn’t look like a proper adventurer at all—just a weak little thing, easy prey for a snake or anything else hungry enough.
One of her legs looked strange, thin and twisted. She couldn’t walk on it, that was clear. She wasn’t like the others… small, weak, he thought, unimpressed. But then a thought struck him: What would Master want to do?
Chomp tilted his head, clicking in thought. The little human was strange, not like the ones that had stomped through the swamp before. But he knew Master would want to see her—and she was too weak to get anywhere on her own. He sniffed at her, hesitating, then gingerly bit into her clothing, grabbing hold of her with his mandibles.
Come on, little human, he thought, tugging gently. She barely stirred, so he pulled a bit harder, careful not to hurt her as he dragged her slowly toward the nearest Oculnid. Every few steps, he looked back to make sure she was still there, the odd weight of her form making him feel oddly proud, like he was bringing Master something very special.
At last, he reached the tree where the Oculnid watched, its single eye blinking and adjusting as he positioned her beneath it. Chomp stepped back, pleased, and clicked excitedly to himself, “Master can see you now, little human.”
Adrian:
Adrian’s mind buzzed with confusion as he observed the small, frail figure lying in the mud, her breaths shallow and her face smudged with dirt. What is a girl doing here? he wondered, a prickle of unease threading through his thoughts. She was painfully thin, her limbs looking more fragile than he’d seen on any creature that had wandered into his domain. And her leg—it was twisted and malformed, making it impossible for her to walk far, let alone survive a place like this.
He grit his teeth, a strange feeling of responsibility washing over him. Something’s not right here, he thought, scanning the area again. There was no explanation for why she’d end up in a hostile swamp, far from any safety. Turning his thoughts toward his loyal scout, he ordered, “Chomp, bring her to the hollow tree. But… be careful.”
Watching Chomp carefully lift her by the fabric of her clothes, Adrian felt a tug of unfamiliar protectiveness. The child was clearly defenseless, and with a flash of irritation, he wondered who could have possibly left her here to fend for herself.
Adrian watched from the hollow tree as Chomp dutifully dragged the girl through the mud, her small form leaving streaks in the wet earth. When they passed near one of the parasite queen dens, Chomp splashed through shallow water, and Adrian’s awareness tingled with a warning—parasite-infested water.
Before he could fully process the thought, he felt something tug at his senses, and then he saw it—a control parasite latched onto her, crawling into her ear. Adrian’s protective instinct surged. “Get out of her, parasite!” he ordered, sending out a mental pulse. But the parasite was too simple, too instinct-driven to comprehend, let alone obey him. His warning went ignored, and the parasite burrowed further, disappearing from sight.
Suddenly, a shock of pain flared in his mind—a deep, searing ache that pulsed through him. The heartbeat of his dungeon heart sped up, each beat sending waves of heat across his form. Then a system message appeared before him:
__##@System Error### Invalid classification detected-7KJL&^__*
He barely registered the jumble of characters before the pain intensified, his mind scrambling to understand. What is happening? His vision blurred, and he gritted his teeth as another system message forced itself into his consciousness:
__#%%System Override+5bB89… Unidentified entity present%@!__*
Adrian’s body throbbed, heat radiating out of the dungeon heart and reaching his creatures. His bond with them crackled with pain, echoing back to him as Chomp and the others recoiled. Adrian felt his dungeon heart shudder, each beat pounding harder, and then, with another burst, blood vessels beneath it ruptured, sending a hot, wet ache through him.
##Error! Apply protocol for unknown entity_#! Error.!…apply solution__!__*
The entire dungeon shook violently, reverberating with his distress. Adrian clenched his mind around the pain, his senses spiraling in confusion as the final system message appeared with jarring clarity:
Error resolved. Classification changed. New dungeon monster gained: Lucy.
The pain receded, leaving him disoriented as he registered the name and the final line:
Lucy, Dungeon Monster, +__@g56Kl89d^^&%@!__