Log 15 - Galactic Year 3350
Dungeons are efficient. Unlike gates, which are powered directly by the beholder, Dungeons are fueled by the denizens undergoing the test.
Due to that, they are far more esoteric in nature. From impossible geometry to endless seas, from fun wonderlands or horrendous hellscapes, they have far more variety than gates. The solutions are often more specific than 'kill and subjugate', which could be a blessing or a curse depending on the individual.
But that's not why I choose to write this down. I want to underline the relation between the core classifications and the contents of a dungeon.
Now, as previously discussed, the going hypothesis for ‘cause’ is the emotions and nature of the owner of the core in question, correct? The origins of the dungeon are commonly accepted to stem from the same reason, each dungeon being a reflection of the individual.
And, much like before, the evidence is clear. Perhaps even more so, in this case.
Most dungeons are seemingly designed by the subconscious, using memories or strong stimuli to serve as the ‘base’, if you will. From there, the Aether takes a life of its own, and forms the dungeon as we see it. Traditionally, the dungeon is spawned from the most extreme memories or emotions that the creator possesses.
Amusingly, every individual has different thresholds for extreme. One dungeon might be an endless full course meal, spawned from a chef’s memory that inspired him to become a cook. Another might be an extremely dangerous hellscape filled with flaming demons, spawned from a soldier's memory of mass burnings.
It adds a certain element of uncertainty, as opposed to gates, which are hand-picked to provide an optimal challenge to the local residents on the other side. Many worlds have been destroyed by single dungeons, the self-fueling process growing unchecked, getting too large to handle. Some planets have even become dungeons in of themselves, and serve a similar purpose for the galactic community.
But back to the subject. Unlike cores themselves, where I believe the hypothesis to be irresponsible at best, I agree with the publicly accepted cause behind the creation of dungeons. Non-sentient or unemotional creatures tend not to spawn dungeons, and if they do - they are either woefully simple or complete nonsense, reflections of an empty mind.
So with that agreed on, my scholarly question is this.
What sparks the creation of a dungeon?
There is absolutely no correlation in relative power levels, nor strength of the emotions. Location, proximity, type, nothing. The numbers have been crunched, and the studies have been carried to their fruition.
The answer: no correlation. It is completely random.
I refuse to believe that, but I simply cannot find evidence to the contrary. I’ve been admonished by my fellow scholars for attempting to see patterns where there are none, that I should accept that sometimes things just are.
I do not believe in random chance. Not to say that it is divine providence, but there is too much logic to the world, and...how best do I explain it...climatic finality to most dungeons.
Far from a scholarly perspective, but cold logic only gets you so far.
Alright, admittedly it can bring one very far, but I hope to go further still.
There is too much I don't know.
-Initiate Scholar Helman-
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I closed the book, and set it on my lap. The cover had changed to some kind of horror manga, but I ignored it.
”Anything useful?” asked Goro.
”Somewhat,” I said thoughtfully. “But no particular answers to our predicament.”
Goro didn’t look too surprised. He continued to sit across from the door, staring at it, as if daring it to barge open. Akiko was in the same exact position as before, even though it had been well over an hour since we reached the roof.
I was sitting on one of the benches, relaxing and enjoying the view.
That chapter was useful, but not all that much. The context was nice and all, but it never said a damn word about how to conquer a dungeon. I suppose it would be a bit much if I could just open the book to a random page and get a solution to my problems every time, but it was still a wee bit frustrating.
I looked to Akiko, studying her core. It was...muddied, like dust in the water. I felt little power coming from it, yet her body betrayed inhuman strength. It didn't quite match up in my eyes.
Suppose that just goes to show that I shouldn’t get too stuck up in stereotypes or expectations, as people don’t fit in such convenient molds...okay, that’s just not true. There are plenty of goobers out there that are effectively copied and pasted, but I have a sneaking suspicion that nameless goons don’t get interesting cores.
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
If anyone was listening to my internal monologue right about now, they would argue that everybody is a unique individual and that all lives have equal worth.
I’d laugh, then walk away, rubbing the dirt off my shoulder, as that person is likely very, very poor. As is tradition. Remember, kids, winners don’t believe in equality.
I’m getting distracted. Or maybe I'm running away from the fact that I'm trapped on a roof in some sort of alternate dimension fuckery, with a nightmare-inducing monster between us and the exit. I’ve got no answers, and no avenues of...
I called out to the girl. “Hey, Akiko!”
An eye peered out from the wall of hair. “...Yes?”
”How did you fall to the first floor?”
Goro tilted his head, trying to figure out where I was going with this line of questioning, while Akiko answered in her ever so quiet voice. “I don’t know...I just...wanted some quiet, away from the voices, and found myself falling.”
I hummed. Sounded...metaphysical. Well, the moment the thought occurred to me it became immediately and blatantly obvious that it was the case.
This girl was the origin point for the dungeon, this much was obvious. My confusion comes from the fact that we met her on the first floor. Is the entire building a dungeon, or can the creators of a dungeon escape it easily? Maybe it's a power specific to her, like my eyes.
If she could leave, why is she sulking on the roof with us? How did she manage to power the barrier from within the dungeon? Or perhaps she was out of it from the...
Too much speculation. Either way, it's our ticket out, so it's time to figure out what exactly spawned this nightmare school.
”Is this place familiar to you?” I asked.
She nodded. “It’s my old school. I was supposed to graduate in a week. But now...”
Damn, she’s only 18? Freakish. Not that I’m dumb enough to say that out loud. “Tell me about your school life.”
She froze, glancing between me and the clearly listening Goro. “W-Why? It‘s not interesting.”
Hmmmn, now, how do I say ‘because this is your fault’ without saying ‘because this is your fault?’
”I...suspect that this area is a dungeon, which is created from the minds and cores of specific people. In this case, that would be you.”
I could see her eyes widen, and her very long limbs tense up. “This...this is my fault?...oh, I knew it...I should have just died while-“
”Now now, nobodies dying here,” I said quickly, putting a pin on the pity party. “This would have happened no matter what, it was just coincidence that it happened to you,”
I lied. Well, probably a lie. I don’t actually know.
”As a matter of fact,” I continued. “We have a much better chance with you here. If we can learn about the origins of the creature hunting us, then we might just be able to escape.”
Also a hypothesis, but it was my best bet.
She went silent, and shivered as she looked to me and Goro. He gave an encouraging nod, and I gave a kind smile.
”It’s...not all that much of a story,” she began. “It’s a common one, not worth...worrying about.”
I feel like I just specifically said that her story is immediately relevant to our survival and thus worth worrying about, but OK. God do I hate children.
”I was bullied. A lot.”
No shit. “What for?”
Goro gave me the side-eye. “Kids don’t need a reason.”
Strong disagree. It’s an important part of the growing process, teaching you how to conform. If you’re getting bullied then you are probably doing something wrong. Though, there are exceptions. Sometimes the nonconformity isn‘t behavioral, but instead physical, which is usually impossible to change.
But most of the time it's some dumbass kid wearing fox ears to school and then whimpering and whining when he is inevitably given shit for it. Hell, most of the time the ’bullies’ don’t even spare a second thought for the victim, who is blowing the whole thing out of proportion. What makes you think they care so much to make your life miserable, specifically?
”Of course,” I said, backtracking. “But oftentimes there is a spark, a specific thing that starts it. Does anything come to mind?”
”Well...” she began, “It’s always about my height.”
Goro and I shared a look.
”How tall were you?” I asked.
”...Before I became like this?” she muttered
Yes. That was implied. I just nodded reassuringly.
”...I was 182 cm.”
I just raised my eyebrows, but Goro flinched. “How tall is that for a Japanese schoolgirl?” I asked.
”Yes,” he said.
Ouch.
”And they bullied you for that?” I pressed.
She let out a choked laugh from behind her knees, which she clenched even tighter. “All my life. I’ve been freakishly tall for all my life, and I’m not even mixed. But it got truly awful during middle school.”
Akiko was starting to talk faster now, as her pent-up emotions began to pour out.
”They started calling me Hasshakusama*, following me around and yelling "Po..."
I raised my eyebrow at Goro and he shrugged.
"...They’d steal my shoes, write on my desk, destroy my swimming suit, follow me in the bathroom and dunk my head in the toilet. I tried to go to the teachers for help, but they either shunned me or saw me as ’exotic’ and...and...”
Well, now I felt bad. It sounds like she suffered through this out of no fault of her own. Can't exactly change your height. That wasn’t really my concern, though, at the moment.
Personally, I think the roof shaking and the distant, hateful voices were more important.
”Akiko, sweetie, you can stop now,” I said, soothingly. But she wasn’t listening. Her woeful whining was rapidly transitioning to rage. Her hair was beginning to float on its own
”But the worst was that bitch, Midori! For all of high school she made me miserable! She was rich, popular, and had every class around her disgusting little fingers! She hated me! I don’t even know why! What did I have that she didn’t?! What did I ever do to deserve it?!”
I didn’t have much of an opportunity to encourage her, because, with one final screech, the roof simply...broke.
Goro was leaping towards me, but he was pulled away by an invisible force, sending him crashing through the opposite side of the roof. So I fell alone.
I’d like to say the fall seemed like it lasted forever, but it was over all too quickly. My back smashed against broken concrete, and I came to a rolling stop at the bottom of it. The air was filled with stone dust, and yet it was dead silent once more.
Well, only for a moment. It didn’t take long for me to start hearing all those familiar voices, all speaking in unison. It came from everywhere, echoing off the walls, from behind me, in front, whispering in my ear.
Po....Po....Po.....
I looked down to my stomach, noting the piece of rebar sticking out. It’s been all of two days, and I already have an awful track record with collapsing concrete.
I wanted to murmur some smartass comment to help alleviate the fear, but it was so damn silent that I was scared that it’d hear it. So I simply grit my teeth, and pushed myself off the rebar as best as I could.
The piece of steel...squished as it exited my body, and I groaned from the exertion. Then the rubble shifted, loudly.
And just like that, I couldn’t hear the voices anymore.
Fuck.