Floating…

The sensation of drifting becomes a feeling edging into…

A sense of... something.

A thought?

A single conscious thought, though formless at its inception, crystalizes to form a core. A core of being. A remnant. A remnant holding, and built of, the shadows of what once was… and possibly could be again.

Slowly, inevitably, the thought shakes off the fog that clings to it, seeking itself, becoming more. It begins to take definition, to discover itself.

But something is missing. Desperately, blindly, the forming consciousness reaches out seeking that which could define and explain its existence.

Something, anything to guide it, to ground it, to stave off and combat the rising sensation of…

Emotion?

Fear…

Confusion and terror set in. The budding consciousness writhes in fear and panic. It lashes out in the vain attempts to seek something to anchor it.

It is lost, it is alone. It does not understand what is happening, why it can suddenly perceive… What it can suddenly perceive.

Reaching out, it finds… nothing.

But then…

Pressure

Some outside force presses in on it. Gently, lovingly, the pressure builds, compresses.

The fear fades away. The new sensation giving the core a stabilizing force.

It is new, it is unknown, but it gives definition.

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

Slowly, something else gathers, and flows through the pressure, is forced in by the pressure.

Something that… energizes.

As this new force continues to pour into the core, it senses something else.

Something that is… igniting.

Sparks

Pinpricks of flickering lights. Present, but not tangible. Sensed but not seen.

Thousands upon thousands of gathering colors and sensations. Each individually beautiful to behold, and each as enigmatic and mysterious as the last.

They gather, following the lines of energy, collecting at the core.

The crash, they collide.

They… combine.

Each spark becomes a part of a whole, flickering and spinning as they grow.

They become sharper, more defined. They become something… more.

Slowly, the conscious core sees something more in them.

Something… absolute.

Memories

A snap of recognition.

The glinting, glimmering gossamer shards of memories flow like a kaleidoscopic maelstrom around the core.

They shift, and pressure builds.

They flow over and through the core. Pushing in, forming… connections… expansion.

Causing it to grow.

The flickering memories bombard the burgeoning consciousness.

It is too much. Knowledge and memories are caught, then immediately replaced by another, and another, and another.

The energy and shards begin to overwhelm

Cold

Like the retreating of a tide, a sense of chill pushes back against the tidal wave of shimmering shards.

It balances, defines… slows.

With the cold comes organization. It brings order to the chaos.

It creates pathways and borders.

A network…

A Matrix.

Serenity…

Slowly, the core gains control over itself.

It watches as the last of the lights and memories fall into place, creating a perfectly faceted sphere around it.

They solidify, created a seamless shell around the consciousness.

Trapping… Housing.

Then, the shards fade.

As they fade, new sensations take root, drawing the consciousness away from itself.

Drawing it beyond…

Drawing it…

Outward.

_____________________________________________

A couple weeks travel south of Fourdock, not far from a main trade route, the ambient Mana around a long-forgotten temple stirs. Deep in the overgrown stone ruins a spark of emerald and gold light interrupts a Mantis as it stalks a grasshopper.

In a shadowed crevice of a damaged wall, a multi-faceted marble appears, nestled into the soft loam and moss that gathered at its base. The tiny little gem continued to give off a shifting green gold glow that cast new shadows on the wall and crevice.

The Mantis, initially startled by the sudden event, slowly approached the new dungeon core, as though mesmerized.

Once it gets close enough to touch, it stops, tilting its head from side to side. Finally, as though compelled by some unseen force, it drew back slightly, lifting its claws as though to strike.

The light from the dungeon core flickered, as though it was suddenly aware of the danger, and the Mantis strikes.