Patterns are the true building blocks of the universe. Deoxyribonucleic acid combines in the same ways over and over and over again, multiplied across existence so perfectly, the pattern it creates becomes “Nature”. Gravity pervades all forms of mass, forming the framework for nature to bind itself to space. Time, for the most part, moves forward.

Another quirk which holds true across most of the Greater Connection is that higher levels of pattern recognition lead to higher levels of intelligence. Humans evolved to dominate their planet because they over-analyse the patterns in day-to-day life, forming superstitions which saved not only their own lives, but ensured the survival of offspring generations later.

Perhaps more potent than the ability to glean design from a single instance is the sense of wrongness which a human will experience when that model is interrupted. It is not an exaggeration to say a whole city can grind to a halt, if expectations have been thrown off in some way. Snow when it should be warm, not enough rain for a few weeks, ironically both can cripple the same place when unexpected.

Dungeons were a powerful example of the most rigid patterns. The creatures within, ubiquitously called monsters - regardless of their species or temperament, followed routines either written into their instincts or programmed into their minds. The System is rarely called infallible, yet on the truly immense cosmic scale of its operation, the performance of these rigid patterns becomes paramount.

Without the “normal” flow of a Dungeon appearing, matching itself to the first entrant and then creating a world which would challenge them and give them a somewhat individualised reward, people would be less likely to venture into their depths. The System understands what drives the standard person, and leans on that.

The issue arises when someone non-standard appears, like me.

The dungeon was so inflexible that it could be gamed, so we did. The monsters literally respawned. It seemed genuinely bizarre to comprehend, but the third time I gored the exact same guard captain’s face really brought the reality home hard. The quick repair and replenishment of the towers we hit could be explained away, but you hear the same person call out for his family enough times and you can’t ignore it for much longer.

It led to some increasingly irate outbursts. “How does this work?” Toulou bemoaned. Of the group, he was having the hardest time with the simulated nature of the dungeon. “Where do they get the materials? What are the materials? This strange clay slash cement they use is interesting but if they can see that they need to make repairs, how do they explain away the people who died and came back?”

“You can ask if you like,” Javed offered, not looking up from cleaning his nails, “but their brains don’t work right.” We had tried more than a few times, mostly to assuage Toulou’s mind, to explain the dungeon to its occupants. They weren’t interested. For the most part, they just really didn’t like our alien selves and screamed a lot, which meant either hurting them or leaving.

Toulou frowned at his brother before looking up at the ceiling. We were using the same home as we had for the last week, since we entered the dungeon. The first time the guard captain had respawned, he just walked right in the door. Luckily, I was on edge after feeling the dungeon’s magic fluctuate and was looking for danger, so he was quickly dispatched. Now we timed the respawns based on when he returned. Not quite every two days, but no longer than three.

I hopped up and poked Toulou in the ribs, causing his to squawk in surprise. “For your own sake, don’t think about it so hard. This dungeon is non-standard. Maybe because I brought this useless sap.” I gestured to the skull on my hip. Ledge had been in a fairly constant state of euphoria since realising there was a version of his culture existing in some way, and they were left to simply stare out at the city while the rest of us worked. “Or, maybe because of me. Either way, it’s still just a dungeon. It’s no different from a forest with wolves.”

Toulou mumbled that he was fine, but he would start up again later. It was okay, this place really was weird. I desperately hoped not to run into too many “real-world” dungeons like this, but I expected this wasn’t too uncommon. Everything still worked how it should, at least for me. With the renewable sources of energy appearing every few days, my second layer had become decently filled out.

I was still only at around five percent towards completing the second shell for my core, but it had solidified nicely. I could reach into the power it gave me without backlash, though it still didn’t feel quite my own. “We’re done farming,” I told the group. They had all been looting the bodies and they had all completely filled their inventories, which were larger with them all being Tier One instead of Zero. Each of them had gained four levels, but the gains were dropping off now that they were individually stronger than most of the enemies in the dungeon.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“So, it’s time to finish this quest of mine. Now we conquer this place.” The others stood, stretching out and getting ready. The plan had been outlined a few times, but we held back to be as powerful as possible before enacting it. Each of the party could now defeat a guard tower alone, with the mini-boss included. This was important, because we were going to employ a simple, tested and true method to enforce my dominance on this city. The same as when we attacked the towers.

Shock and Awe.

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Toulou vs Guard Tower as others get destroyed. His is fastest because he essentially closes his eyes to it.

Gulping, I stepped into the foyer of the guard tower. A receptionist was waiting to my right, and I gripped the life coursing through his body with a flinch from both of us. Having one’s blood grasped by someone else’s mana is probably really awful, so I tried not to think about it. I was avoiding my own thoughts a lot these days.

The world swept away from me, both now and when the Shift had come. I had received the Aspect of Blood within minutes of the System’s arrival to the world. It had come with a countdown, one which had called out in the minds of everyone at once. I even saw a cat which seemed affected.

The words had not been well received, to say the least. Javed had tried to get us somewhere safe, but it just didn’t exist. Mauritania was not a very safe place at the best of times. When the heavens started counting towards something, most people assumed it was the end. Which, for some reason, meant they began committing sins left, right and centre.

The pent up rage of my country bubbled over, and chaos reigned. For days, Javed and I survived by the skin of our teeth, but now? I look at the power I wield so casually and wonder. Could I have made a difference? Those early days were the worst, as strength flooded my veins and the power of it began to choke me. If we hadn’t found Javed his Aspect of Shadows…

I shuddered, and the man’s blood mirrored me, vibrating out of his veins and flooding his body. It was quick, cheap and efficient. The man didn’t feel any pain, I was almost certain. It didn’t make me feel much better as he slumped onto his desk and the precious resource spilled from his body. “That first guy is your ammunition,” the kobold had said.

I winced, but grasped the still-warm blood and drained it from the body until it was a husk. “Fucking…” I didn’t know how to finish my curse as the globe of crimson liquid danced above my hand. My magic claimed it as my own, so it was. Mine to use as a weapon for offence. I found it grotesque, even after a week of being forced to use my powers for violence.

My thoughts were broken by a crashing in the distance which occurred at the same time the first guardsmen appeared. I whipped my hand forward and the blood responded. I didn’t bother using my energy on the guards themselves, as their high level made the blood harder and more expensive to control. Instead, the quantity I had already stolen was enough to create two powerful spears of rotating, thick blood.

And so I moved through my steps quickly and without letting myself think anymore. I had already done this exact attack twice in the last week, so it was easy to fall into the pattern and ignore my screaming mind. Dodge here, scoop the pooling blood up there, smash it into that guard as he enters, then quickly use that momentum to hit the one behind him, too.

Somewhere in the attack I levelled up. Without true conscious thought, I placed the attributes points into Fortitude and Will and felt myself get just a little more powerful all around. Is every step on the ladder meant to fill my mouth with bile? I reminded myself that this was necessary, that the dungeon was just a creation of a power I didn’t understand. I still hated every moment.

Gaining strength from healing the wounded was slower, more thoughtful work, but it did happen. Even then, levels came from keeping combatants ready to do battle. There was no escape from the bloodshed, even as my abilities made it easier to keep the blood inside. Or remove it, as I did again and again.

The guard tower fell with its captain. Not literally, but a shadow seemed to fall over the place. This shadow was tinted red, and was nothing to do with Javed. As I moved outside, I saw similar shadows appear on the three other towers of the city. One for each cardinal direction, as the power of my Dao laid claim to the area. I took a deep breath. The colour-coded shadows did help to make it feel more like a game.

A game which was moving into its final stage.

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“Good, good, good, good,” I nodded as each of the towers fell. Toulou’s was quickest, surprisingly, but I had an idea why. The guy was somehow both the scariest fighter I knew and a complete pushover. He had probably closed his eyes and tore through the building by accident more than anything. Either way, there were my four reverse spotlights.

Four towers, now covered by the party’s Daos. Red for blood, grey for earth, silver for revolution and unsurprisingly, darker black for shadow. The base capture mechanic had been recognised on my quest progress, which now sat at four of four towers claimed. I didn’t have to wait at all before the sirens started sounding. I was vague on what to expect, but this was about right.

The whole city went into lockdown.

As the klaxon sounded, the citizenry escaped to their homes. At one point, I considered wholesale slaughter of the entire city to be the domination needed. I had said nothing, not thinking my human party members would agree, and was happy when I found I wouldn’t have to. It wasn’t worth the kill energy to upset the group like that, even if I did think it was ultimately wasteful. They’d be easy pickings, and likely just as lootable as anything else.

My focus wasn’t on the civilians, in any case. To my left, a large building began to rise. Unlike the others, this building was not shaped like a massive golf tee. Instead, a large dome quickly appeared in the most obvious location possible. A huge park had been displaced atop the building, so it remained covered in most of the foliage and muck.

My target was inside. A powerful energy swept over the city and stayed there, a heavy blanket of oppression. I couldn’t help the animalistic smile which came to my face, not sure whether I was excited or scared. I had gained some strength of my own since entering the dungeon, but would it be enough?

I tasted a bitter tang on my tongue as my mouth dried in the face of a strength greater than my own. The dragon within my blood wanted to roar in defiance, to prove my strength was enough. If not greater, then more potent than the aura pressing against me. Like I was clawing through thick curtains, I slashed through the night air towards the fully risen building.

Whatever challenge the System put in my way would fall. I would not let myself be contained within the dungeon which was the System. The Greater Connection was just another trap for me to break out of. For now, I needed the strength to blast away anything which tried to strip me of what was mine again.

Which meant tearing apart whatever was in the dome.