The shack creaks and groans under the relentless winds that plague its boards and beams, a constant effort to urge the structure to crumble. This man made thing held on with all its might, despite the ever encroaching destruction that time invites. While its shingles fell one by one, rot slowly but steadily eating away at the ceiling, it does not falter. Its occupants long since vacated, the memory of this place faded even from their minds. Despite its loss of purpose, the onslaught of nature’s wrath, and time itself, it remains a stalwart guardian, waiting for the day that it would once again be of use.
A new breeze dances through the shack, not from the cracks of the singular window, or through the gaping holes from where boards and shingles have failed their battles with annihilation. Instead the breeze comes from within, as a single point of energy begins to condense on the moldy mattress. The small point of light sucks at the air, the shack, the very energy that binds the atoms of these things together. The shack begins to tremble, as if this greedy bit of energy would become a blackhole to finally devour it whole.
Despite the moaning protests of the structure, the point of light continued to grow and shape into a glittering red jewel. The light was no more, and instead all that remained was a perfectly round marble of red crystal. The shack was indifferent to this transgression, but it was not truly the same shack as when the changes had occurred. The boards and beams, while still rotten and weak, had stopped their ever persistent march of decay. A strong wind blew against the shack, and no creaks or noisy protests were able to be heard. Suddenly, this place was no longer a crumbling monument to time, but a rigid structure. The start of something new, and a new purpose was given to the structure as the energy within the crystal stirred.
The marble glowed softly, and energy flowed from it to every aspect of the shack, before it suddenly recoiled back towards its source. “Too much…” The inner voice of the crystal groaned as it tried to become aware of its surroundings. Initially the mana had flowed out to give full awareness to the soul within, but it was far too complex for a simple mind to handle. Fourth dimensional space was easy for creatures of that intelligence to grasp, but for the ordinary mind of a human, three dimensions was the limit on what could be comprehended coherently.
Slowly but surely, the energy from the crystal began to coalesce in the small space once again. This time the magic took a more focused approach, where it’s awareness could view through the simple third dimension. “That’s… that is a lot better.” The soul within groaned as it began to collect its thoughts while viewing its new domain. It began to inspect the entire room, and seemed to weaken in disappointment. The presence didn’t seem impressed with what it had appeared in. There were four wooden walls, each with differing sized gaps between the boards. Below those boards was a dirt floor, with small puddles of stagnant water dotted about under the greatest concentrations of missing ceiling.
“So I am above ground, and in a single room. The room has a single exit, which could either lead to the outside world, or further into the building.” The presence mused to itself, seeming to contemplate the setting it was in at the moment. While it was not much, to the little red ball of crystal, it was everything. It also helped that it was this particular ball’s last chance at everything.
The crystal sitting upon the mattress was the core of a dungeon. This beautiful lattice created between the bonding of errant intelligence and a wellspring of magic in the local area, was the secret to the fascinating structures that lured adventurers to their doom. Though the intelligence that lies within this crystal, is not that of a naturally born Dungeon Soul. It’s intelligence too great, and it’s creativity far beyond whatever basic ideals a nascent core would be able to fathom.
A human soul from another plane of existence was offered the opportunity at a second chance at life, so long as the new life was devoid of who they were in the previous. That soul was taken in by the governing laws of magic that bound this world to its laws, and it was formed into that of a sparkling green core. That soul failed at being a dungeon, time and time again it was crushed, stolen, exsanguinated, robbed… a veritable list existed of how many times this soul had failed to perform as even the most rudimentary of dungeons.
It had been time for the soul to move on to the afterlife, after having been destroyed by yet another attempt at life as a dungeon. The Reaper and The Gatekeeper both agreed that it should be the former humans' time to go into the soft embrace of the hereafter. But the soul pleaded with them for another chance, anything to avoid leaving nothing but failures as its mark upon the world.
The Gatekeeper dismissed this as the wailing of yet another soul that did not wish to leave behind so many, having heard it all before. However, the Reaper, as they are known to do, decided to make this pleading into a gamble. The reaper offered the pleading soul that now sat in the ancient shack an offer.
The building shuddered with the soul’s recollection of what the being that controlled the end of death said. “You who have failed as crypt and tomb, must now learn or face thy doom. Eight odd times with the first as a man, to you I offer this generous plan. Take your soul as it is with all past life, and remove the world of a perilous strife. Karmic debt is paid, or into the pit you will be laid.” The ghostly rhyme of the reaper had sung out as the deal was offered to him.
The former man had agreed, then found himself here in this unimpressive place. His mind balked at the sheer amount of information that a dungeon was meant to process in a matter of seconds, and instead for the view as if he was a human once more. Within the center of the house, wisps of magic emerged from the core and coalesced into the vague shape of a man, only for the image to fade out of existence.
The presence and the energy were still there, but the magic no longer remained visible to the human eye. Though to the inhuman, such as the core itself, it could see a glittering crimson crystalline form covered in many faces to make up its body.
“Well… I’m red.” The core muttered before suddenly something appeared in front of it. It took on the appearance of a simple message box. The box was a rectangle with white edges on a red background. On the text box appeared the words. “Dungeon Core name now confirmed. Dungeon Core: Red”
“What the hell? What is this? I didn’t choose my name to be Red! I was just saying what I look like you stupid box!” Red barked angrily at the box as it blinked out of existence. Though in its place another box appeared, having far more information on it than the previous. Red looked closely, and found that his mental state went from confusion to complete befuddlement.
“User Red is incapable of performing duties as a core entity due to mental strain. Reality Adjustment System Interface (RASI) has been installed within core for further assistance. Current theme has been chosen based on user Red’s preference towards ‘Video Games’. This setting cannot be changed.” The box asserted, persisting for a long moment until Red had taken in all the information related to it.
Red was silent for a moment, taking a seat in the solitary chair in his room as he tried to process exactly what was going on. He put his hands on his head, taking a few deep breaths through his nose as he tried to remain calm. “Alright. So all of my experience as a dungeon won’t work when it comes to actually making the damn thing. All it will give is ways that I can fail. Which at least means when I die, it won’t be a repeat of all this.” He said cheerfully, bringing his hands up in triumph before he let his shoulders sag.
He gazed around the room more closely now, acknowledging the meager furnishings that were within it. A single bed, the chair beneath his crystalline behind, a small table, and a little wood stove that sat in the corner of the room. “Not the grandest of starts. I suppose that I might as well get started.” He muttered with a sigh as he stood up and cracked his ethereal knuckles.
“So if the way I am to build my grand dungeon is through a video game interface… then it should work like one. I hope.” He muttered before he did a swiping motion with his hand. When nothing happened with that, he tried to give a poke to the air. Then with a frustrated attempt he reached to his side and opened up an imaginary bag to see if that would do anything, which it of course did not.
“Dammit! Where do I find the fucking menu?!” He yelled out to the empty building, knowing that there was no one and nothing to answer him. Though as he was about to go into a frustrated meltdown, another box appeared in front of him with a list of tabs at the top.
- Dungeon Profile
- Creatures
- Minions
- Monsters
- Traps
- Build
- Inventory
- Rewards
“Well… I guess everything is voice activated, that’s good to know at least.” He muttered as he flexed his fingers and looked over the menu. He brought his hand to the menu, trying to see if he could tap things once the screen was actually opened. The crystal finger tapped against the first option, wondering if there would be anything that would actually could help him. Perhaps if he was lucky there would be some sort of tutorial on how to be a dungeon.
Dungeon Profile
Name: Red
Level: 1
Age: Under an Hour
Color: Red
Mana: 25
Kills: 0
Rooms: 1
Creatures: 0
Minions: 0
Monster: 0
Traps: 0
Structures: 4
Items: 1
Theme: Unknown
Description: This dungeon has existed for a very short time, and is unknown to the world at large. It has yet to perform any action as a dungeon, but has grandiose expectations of what it can become. The dungeon core is exposed to the open air with no defenses preventing its destruction from wild organisms.
Red blinked a bit in surprise at the fact that there was a description related to his dungeon, wondering if it was meant for him to view. Though with the list of information being obvious to the core, he wondered if there was some way for anyone else to view this information. Though he snapped out of his theorizing as he realized that the last line of the description was very much correct, his core was completely exposed to anything that could attack him.
He waved away the menu, finding that it disappeared when his hand passed through it. He looked at the core sitting on the mold and rot filled mattress that had appeared on. He looked at the thin pillow that sat at the head of the mattress, going over and trying to grab it. His hand passed through the material, completely incorporeal as it tried to grip the loose fabric of the case. Though as he did so, a new window appeared in front of him.
“Move Object? Yes - No” It asked, seeming to be a way of rearranging the items within the space of the dungeon. His finger tapped against the ‘Yes’ on the box, and saw it disappear before the pillow gained a faint red glow on it. He reached for the pillow again and gripped the side, pulling it up to reveal a ghostly version of the rotten pillow. With a raised brow, he brought the spectral pillow above his core and set it down on top of the small red sphere. “Move cost: 2 Mana” the window said before the actual pillow floated up and landed in the exact position that the spectral version had been laid down in.
“Alright, my core is not just sitting where someone can immediately see it! Now let’s mess around with some more of these menus.” He mused with a smile as he summoned the menu once again, clicking on the second option. Though as soon as he did, another pop-up appeared over the menu, blocking his view of the options.
“A dungeon is allowed either two critters, one monster, or one minion and one critter at the start of their life. This setting cannot be changed, as it is meant to aid the dungeon in learning how to scale and gain themes. Please select which option you would like to choose.” The box appeared, with three buttons that corresponded to the choices that the text had given. Red scratched at his chin for a moment, trying to decide what he should choose. Though he allowed himself to be distracted as he realized something. He scratched his chin again with a deeper frown on his faceted face. “I feel like i’m supposed to have stubble… This must not be an exact copy of my old body.” He muttered with a frown, though quickly shook himself back to focus on the option at hand.
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