My rat returned three times. Each time, she stood frozen in fear as Aurum slipped down to take the offered tribute, and each time there were no jewels among the tatty lot.

The third time, I sent out no wave of goodwill, no acknowledgement. She waited for a long time before scuttling away into the dark.

At first I was completely self-absorbed. My fungal garden was growing beautifully, and unlike the vipers, it drew in prey rather than frightening them off. A microcosm of a successful dungeon. Every few hours a frog or some other small creature would blunder into the Nematocelia and be miserably done for, a fate I watched and waited for with glee.

At first, I was simply eager to absorb more Soul fragments. The dead man had been a windfall there too, granting me an enormous fiery shard worth fifty, half of my quota to advance. Combined with the viper’s killing spree, I was at eighty-seven and slowly advancing. The feel of progress was tantalizing.

But...

When my rat didn’t return for hours, I began to worry. By the time I had restored a full two mana - ten hours - I had started to fret. Soon I regretted being withholding. I had practically scolded her, but how was she supposed to know what she was doing wrong?

Had I feet I would kick myself.

And then, when all hope seemed lost, she came limping back into my territory, one leg covered in blood. Her tail lopped off. A deep cut in her haunches. Clutched in her teeth was a golden ring that sparkled like a damn sun in the gloom of the sewer, a small ruby set in the band.

I could have used those same hypothetical feet to jump for joy.

I wrapped my Mana around the ring, dissolving the gold for the pittance of Mana metal provided and leaving the gem lying on the floor of the sanctum. I-

Hmmm.

Hm.

I didn’t know how to make a Shard, did I?

It was a little confounding. Most things came to me as easily as breathing comes to the pitiful fleshy creatures that need to do it. In fact, I understood plenty of things I had no proper way of knowing, such as the existence of jellyfish and humans. My brain was packed with inexplicable knowledge but not how to create a Shard.

I turned to the notification lurking in the dark corners of my mind, waiting to spring out and steal all my Mana should I ever again let down my guard?

“Help?” I posed the mental query.

Would you like to receive aid from a Divine Messenger?

By agreeing to this contract you agree to cede all rights to your Soul to the Divine, as represented by the Hierarchy of the Immutable Chain. No exceptions shall be made.

[https://i.imgur.com/okCjs7y.png]

I stared at the fine print. The very fine print.

No thank you.

The window blipped into non-existence. I was alone, and clueless.

Or…

Not quite alone. I didn’t have much Mana, but I pushed some into the rat, healing her wounds as best I could. I sent warm, happy thoughts of home, the comfortable safety my Sanctum inspired in me, and she slowly curled up into a ball of whit fur and went to sleep on the floor.

I felt oddly happy about that.

Then I got to work on the gem. Clueless I might be, but I had a vague intuition to follow.

It was a slow, difficult process. The ruby was like a sinkhole for Mana, absorbing my ‘feelers’ whenever I tried to push or pull at its matter. Finally, I simply committed and began to feed it, pushing in Mana. It drank up two whole points before it was full.

But. Now that it was no longer draining any Mana that came into contact with it, I could start to manipulate the Mana inside. It was no longer directly connected to me, but like a moon directs the tides, I could vaguely push and pull at the Mana within the gem. I began to twist it up, aiming to bend it into a shape I recognized-

A shape I had seen within myself.

Runic circles surrounded my Core. They shaped the Mana that poured out of me, giving it form. I tried to form the same kind of circle within the gem; I took the spark of Mana I’d invested and compressed it, wadded it up into a core, and forced more in. Overburdened, the jewel was surrounded by ghostly dancing flames. If I pushed any harder it was likely to detonate.

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Slowly, carefully, I built a circle around the core, set the Mana spinning to throw it into stable orbit around that spark. The motion was key. Something clicked and rather than being shaped by me, the Mana began to pull of its own accord.

An ominous crack sent a fissure racing down the gem’s side, but the circle was formed. There was a single, harmonious note, a crystal hum, as the circle and core solidified from ethereal Mana into solid constructs of gold light. Runes etched themselves themselves across the facets.

Ah-fucking-ha.

Crude Shard of The Simple Nexus (Poor)

This excessively rustic Shard is nonetheless able to grant a modicum of power, blessing its owner with slightly increased Intelligence and a telepathic connection to the Dungeon Core that created it.

I mentally squinted. It seemed suspiciously like I’d pissed off whoever was writing these by not taking them up on their ‘generous’ offer. Well ha. Crude it may be, but it cost me a little less than three mana and not even a tiny bit of my soul.

Several hours had passed by now and my brave little scout seemed fully healed. I sent a small mental prod to my rat, waking her up. She eyed the core and I sent out mental cues of hunger, of eating, feasting. She didn’t need telling twice. With a gulp the ruby was gone.

And then we got a splitting headache. We. Our thoughts collided, a ratty intellect submerging into the vast crystalline sea of my own. Waves of turbulence rose as we both went through the rather excruciating process of being welded together, mentally speaking.

And then for the first time, I saw the world through actual eyes.

I could hear, feel, taste, smell-

Ugh, and I did smell didn’t I-

I? This wasn’t me it was-

My confusion was cut short by a sudden jolt of pain, a burning sensation in my lungs. I froze, confused, and it was the rat’s thoughts that took over.

Breathe.

Oh right, fleshy creatures needed to breathe! I relaxed my grip on our shared body, allowing the ratbrain to seize control of the lungs and the heart and everything else needed to function - I remained only as a voice in her head. A voice urging, move! I wanted to see more! To explore and journey!

It was a fine thing to be safe and sedentary as a Dungeon Core, but as soon as I found myself possessing a body again I also had the unbearable urge to roam farther than my tiny little territory.

Again?

Where had that come from?

I was struck by a sudden and fleeting burst of deja vu, which fell away as I turned my attention back to the outside world - lured by the delightful smell of my own creations, the Bloody Cups, which to a rat’s nose were nothing short of ambrosia.

I nearly stumbled into the clutching tendrils of a carnivore mushroom as I allowed myself to be lured by the necrotic bouquet of rotting flesh. The jungle I had built was glorious to witness from below; the delicate gills on the underside of the trumpet-shaped Cups, the faint warning luminescence to the feelers of the Nematocelia.

All the while I had the strange sense of both being within the rat’s body and in my own, seeing the same world through both through her eyes and my own domain of Mana.

I journeyed through in a state of newfound appreciation for my work, but soon we left the fungal carpet beyond. I felt a shiver of loss and my connection became suddenly less vivid as we stepped beyond the reaches of my territory. The colors muted, the smells were no longer as entrancing.

Which was a blessing, as it turned out. My segment of these tunnels was a mere dump for rainwater, but as we journeyed, we were forced to wade through, well…

Do I really need to name the indignities I suffered on this journey?

Disgusted, I gave up directly controlling the rat and let her guide us the rest of the way as I watched, a passenger and happy for the mental distance.

Together we climbed through storm drains and culverts, grasped our way up lead pipes and squeezed through cracks in crumbling masonry.

And then…

Light. Golden, beautiful light, illuminating the fluttering fabric of the tents at a market bazaar. We came out of a sewer grate and up into a milling crowd of humanity. Hundreds of feet sweeping across the packed earth of the roads, stomping up tiny clouds of dust beneath their boots.

Everywhere, there colors and textures of smell. The spice and succulent odor of roasting pork, the sour manure, the freshness of new-baked bread all competing with a distant stale tang of tanneries. People carried the unique odor of their professions with them like a ghost. The chemical stink of a leatherworker or the fragrance of a flower-seller. A tobacconist with his ashy scent. A whore with too much perfume lingering from nightly work.

Humanity came in countless flavors and colors. All of them were a threat to me.

It was my worst fear come true.

I was surrounded by enemies. An inconceivable amount of enemies. I was trapped below a labyrinth of vast tunnels they had built simply to house their waste. I was surrounded on all sides but one - down. That was my only hope. To tunnel down so deep they could never catch me.

And at the same time, I was excited. Excited because I saw rich women with strings of diamonds around their necks. Saw rubies flash on rings worn on soft, pudgy fingers. I saw a wealth of jewels before me. Countless chances to practice my newfound skill in Shard-crafting. To expand my empire with new eyes and ears.

There was an opportunity here. I was beneath the enemy's nose, undetected. I was so near the heart of their wealth I could taste it.

Thoughts were swirling through my mind as I ordered my spy to return. In reward for valiant service, I had decided to give her a Name.

Argent.

[ Albino Rat (Simple Core of the Nexus) ]

“Argent”

Initially no more than vermin, this white rat has been blessed with a Shard and a Name, making her far more intelligent and cunning than the rest of her species.

Blessing: Name of the Glittering Escape - Can teleport short distances.