by Troy Neenan
That was fine. David had already sunk two million dollars into the place. He could wait a year or two before its completion, he didn't think he was going to be going anywhere for a while.
What he was concerned about was that the entrance into the dungeon had been cleaned up. From memories that he had gotten from his last moments as a dungeon AI, he remembered collapsing the entryway, which meant that Clawing Fate had been busy, which was bad.
The contractor looked at the huge drill and mining equipment that the movers were taking out of the trucks. “You remember me telling you that no one is going to swing a shovel before we measure this place?”
David leaned against the truck for support, if anything it was getting worse. A prompt flashed before him.
Warning. You are intruding on a dungeon's territory.
“It's just a side project.” David said and looked at his timer. The digging equipment was not for the exterior building but for his domain. No more ants, no more slow and steady to make rooms and corridors. A small fortune in mining equipment, building supplies, and other goods were on those trucks.
If David won all of those supplies were going to be very useful.
Quest: Coup d'état.
A dungeon core cannot survive long without a domain. Because of the special circumstances of your realm and your dungeon core, you cannot recreate a domain. Your only action is to claim your previous domain by force.
Conditions: Reclaim your dungeon in seven days.
Reward: A dungeon.
Penalty for failure: Death.
Time before quest failure: 2 days, 7 hours, 31 minutes, 40 seconds.
To hell leaving it for the last minute, David had been preparing for this for five days, moving kilograms of gold, paying off any taxes before time, securing allies, and preparing. He had two full days to fuck this son of a bitch up. Would it be enough? If it wasn't there was always plan B, C, and the dreaded plan designated as Fuck You.
The workers kept glancing at Kim, who no longer hid her condition. This was what she wanted, while Cassidy and Daisy sought to regain their normal lives, Kim wanted more. She had spent her life being a closet geek. The one who had to hide her action figurines and bring out her dolls when other girls came around. The one who chose the life of being a sheep because being a shunned outcast was too terrifying to imagine.
Now she was special. Not actress special but proper unique. Fuck, one in a million. She had something the other six billion men and women on this planet lacked a body that only existed in television. The problem was, would she still have her powers if David died or succeeded in his hostile takeover?
David looked at the blue sky, “You know. In the movies it would be raining with maybe lightning in the background.”
“You're an hour away from a magical war and you’re pissing about the atmosphere?” Kim asked. Truth be told a little rain really wouldn't hurt this place. The heat made everything, including breathing, unbearable. “You never told us why you let us in on you being...” she looked back at the workers, “I know you're keeping a few secrets to yourself, but why not keep it all hushed?”
David glared at the dungeon entrance half expecting at any moment to get attacked by a griffon or a horde of walking skeletons, “I was dying, Kim. Lying my arse off didn't seem to be important at the time. I knew that Cassidy was desperate to get fixed up and needed money. You and Daisy were just there when I walked in. I'm not stupid enough to think that I could do any of this alone.” There was also the fact that David had wanted to experiment with his powers. And if Cassidy did sell him out then Judith was going to get a brand new Variant sister.
Sweating, David kept one eye on the dungeon and the other on his workforce who began piling computer equipment and containers full of books onto the ground. He didn't know if he could use any of it but this time he would be prepared.
Kim looked to her boss, “When do you want to do this?”
“I'll wait until they leave.” Feeling sick enough that he thought he would faint, David got into one of the caravans and cranked the air conditioner all the way up, Kim wasn't far away. Sitting there in the best comfort that they could get, David asked Kim. “What plans have you got in case this goes to crap?”
“I still have the gold. Half a million gets you things. If I get to keep the upgrades I'll probably try singing. Japan will absolutely love me.” She could see herself becoming an actress or an idol. At the very least she would save money on animation and the wardrobe department.
An hour passed before the trucks left, abandoning four semi-trailers and a dozen caravans behind. The workers had done their job of transporting the Dungeon Core's gear and were retreating to their cool homes, where they would spread the word that they had seen a real live cartoon person.
David looked at their work and nodded. The conveyor belt had belonged to a warehouse and was little more than a long stretch of rubber tread which lead into the mouth of the cave. No tossing supplies into his domain, it was all automated, enabling even a child to load and operate the equipment.
Judith and her gathering chose to exit the leading caravan. The first Variant to be made spoke in a commanding tone that promised only pain if defied. “You, get those supplies on the belt. You sharpen those knives. You stop picking your nose and get the cameras working.”
Using his powers David had not only healed Judith's mute mutation but had accelerated her age. She was now about seventeen years old, her hair was a dirty blonde colour and she looked like just another girl off the street. She wouldn't get a movie or modelling job like Daisy or Cassidy might, except maybe as an extra. She was normal, and in some ways that was more frightening.
What Judith did have though, were Kim's and four other women's memories. No need to go to school, no need to spend tens of thousands of dollars on tutors and university. She could read, write, and infiltrate society without anyone suspecting what she was.
Her small force obeyed silently and moved like machines. Not those clunky robots you saw in the movies but a strict military unit. The best that the Dungeon Core could put it, the cluster of Variants acted like they were working with a budget on how many muscles they could use at one time. The effect was eerie.
“What are you going to do about them?” Kim asked looking at the teenage women who the Dungeon Core had created.
“I need an outside force guarding the cave. No one in or out. When the builders get the land flattened there will be temporary housing.” Judith had proven that her kind were too dangerous to stay around normal people.
“You never told me how you got them.” Kim said.
“You would be surprised what a woman would do for twenty thousand dollars.” It turns out that the mothers didn't have to die. A few drugs in their system knocked them out, and it was just a matter of helping with the pregnancy and healing them afterwards.
There was one woman out there on a urine soaked mattress, who had woken up to discover that she was no longer afflicted with arthritis.
The Variants opened up the doors of the first semi-trailer. The large metal container shook as ten great wolves popped out. From David's research, the wolves were a remnant of an ancient species that had been extinct since the ice age. These uber-wolves were designed for large prey, like mastodon big.
Those who survived the war with the dungeon would be given to Kim who would donate them to science. Forty dogs had been sacrificed to make these massive killers. A small price to pay to bring back a primitive species.
“Aww poorph.” Kim waved her hand in front of her nose, “They look beautiful but they stink like mad.”
Two of the variants went inside the trailer with mops and buckets and two more began to wash the wolves who tolerated their existences. Out here flies and ticks were a plague that needed to be controlled as fast as possible.
“Good thing I got the water tanker,” David said looking at the huge tanker. The thing looked like a big pill on wheels.
The water had come from a dungeon with a
waterfall that had an extreme lack of fish diversity. A few goldfish and a cane toad and the dungeon was willing to bend over backwards to give David whatever he wanted.
The other trailers opened and thirty cats came casually walking out. While the first one that David had made had eaten a good kilogram of gold the others had been forced to munch on iron, steel, and aluminium. Both Kim and David had to look away as the glare the cats made as the sunlight hit their shiny coats proved too intense.
The last trailer held the mice and their mounts. Hawks, budgies, small dragons, bats, a rainbow of parrots, and several seagulls took to the air and on each of their backs was a little mouse carrying a tiny spear made of steel cat hair.
Seeing the storm of feathers and wings, Kim couldn't hold back a grin, “Jesus Christ, that looks awesome. Can you like make me a giant eagle to ride? Oh, no. A unicorn. No no, a dragon.” Riding on a fire breathing dragon to her first concert would be so fucking badass.
David liked the way Kim thought, but most of her dreams were contingent on him winning this fight. Feeling like he was going to vomit and cry at any moment, the Dungeon Core's focus was on the cave opening.
The first wave was getting ready. The scouting party were a group of mice with cameras and climbing equipment. Because of the extra-dimensional properties of his domain, the Dungeon Core was unsure if a wireless connection would work or not. The cables and recording equipment should give him an idea of what to expect.
The mice were expendable fodder, they knew that and in David's opinion that just made them more awesome.
He knelt down and picked up the commander.
Name: Sylvester.
Race: Nim. Dungeon born.
Type: Vermin.
Creator: Dark Exchange.
Job: Scout.
The Nim are a race of super intelligent mice created by a dungeon core. Breeding in litters, these mice have an advanced social structure and are capable of using tools. Less timid than their primitive cousins they are highly observant and cunning.
Scouts play an important role in a community and military. Instead of specialising in one area scouts are one part explorers, trackers, hunters, and spies. They observe their surroundings and report back their findings allowing for advanced warnings.
David had tried to give each mouse a job but was unable to. Maybe it was due to him currently being out of a dungeon, or maybe some people didn't have what it took to have that kind of job. Or maybe Sylvester and those like him were a bit more intelligent than the others.
Professions it turns out required years of study and time, you had to dedicate yourself to the craft. Kim had put energy into her music, doing it for fun, sacrificing an hour a day to play. Anyone could be taught to boil water but it took time and effort and a bit of a knack to be a chef.
Then again that theory held up shit when the blessings of those arsehole dungeons had given out free professions like a venereal disease at an orgy.
As best that David understood it, jobs were a less powerful version of the profession. It was like in some MMOs, a wizard could have thousands of different schools of abilities and powers. Two wizards could have two completely different power sets, each specialising themselves to their favourite tactics. Jobs on the other hand were more linear and if you changed your job you had to restart the tech tree.
Jobs were like that. Watered down versions of their more powerful professions.
David didn't fully understand the process, yet. But as only a few of his mice had been able to unlock the ability to take jobs, he had to work with what he had.
Knowing that he was probably sending his creations to their deaths, David spoke to the mouse knowing it could understand him. “Get me that cave.”
Sylvester the mouse stood up straight on its furry legs and gave a sharp salute. David put it back on the ground where it began talking to its fellow scouts in loud squeaks.
The cats, wolves, other mice, and Variants watched the brave vermin run into what could possibly be their doom and each of them felt the hot air around them tense up. This was it. The reason behind their creation, the war that they were born to fight for, it was finally here.
A black skinned eighteen year old manning the monitors tapped several buttons and the screen came to life. “We have visual.” she said. David had tried to save as much of the mother's memory as possible. It turns out that one of the mothers were in the army training for Special Forces. Not that it helped her against schizophrenia or walking the streets in a daze.
David had given the woman a business card and told her to speak to Cassidy. When her life got back in order she was going to need a job.
David, Kim, Judith, the cat with the golden fur, the oldest of the wolves, and the Dungeon Core's first litter of mice came forward and viewed the image. They viewed the screens, watching as the raiding party of mice stayed close to the entrance. The cameras on their backs panned left and right, trying to take in as much of their new environment as possible.
Kim looked at the little shed, “Wow, you weren't kidding. It's like five times bigger than it should be.” She pointed at the screen.” what's all that rubble?”
“Before the thing took over I sort of did a self-destruct.” David said. “Collapsed all my rooms, flooded everything with salt water, and killed my monsters. I also put on a complete configuration reset on a timer but localised it to the dungeon. The rest corrupted everything, the field that stabilised everything, the sensory perception. You know how Cassidy got hyper sensitivity because of the new skin? Well, add in a dozen flash bang grenades going off in your face every ten seconds.”
“A dungeon bomb.” Kim said sounding impressed, “Um. What do you mean configuration reset?”
“Dungeons don't work like they do in Japanese light novels or games. No numbers, no levels, no text screens, no messages. They are organic creatures that work mostly on instinct with just that tiny bit of intelligence. The ones that you met were only about two to ten years old. Most of them only capable of holding a tiny monster.” David took in a breath, “Me being a bit of a gamer, I made everything digital.”
The scouts scoured the starting room, each of them pointing their cameras this way and that until they finally found something.
A huge mound of insects were covering what appeared to be a piece of metal. They were mostly ants and flies but there were a few spiders tossed in the mix.
Seeing the pile of insects Kim gave a shiver, “What are they doing?”
“Son of a bitch,” David said and turned his attention to his demolition squad, which turned out to be a small ginger girl with a bunch of homemade thermite and pipe bombs strapped to her chest. “We need bug bombs.”
He looked to Kim, “The mother fucker is trying to make himself a swarm mimic body.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
It turns out all you needed to rid the world of a serial killing death trap with delusions of grandeur was a bug bomb, a winch, and a middle finger. The middle finger was optional but it feels really good to give.
The moment before Crawling Fate was pulled out of the dungeon domain, David, flanked by several Variants entered the cave. He didn't trust his opponent nor did he believe that he understood the rules of being a dungeon. He had come to this God forsaken dirt pit expecting an epic fight Lord of the Rings style, this anticlimactic crap frayed his nerves.
David didn't so much as hear as much as felt the armour scream out in despair, “Noooooo!” A smile stretched across his face and the Dungeon Core looked down to see that he had an erection. Best feeling ever.
As his foot tapped down on the dirty cave floor several prompts flashed before his eyes.
You have trespassed onto the territory of the Crawling Fate. Warning this dungeon while a novice in this region is far older than you are and its personality has become twisted due to its dungeon masters and contracted parties.
Beware, the Crawling Fate never forgets and never forgives.
A feeling of utter dread flowed through Dav
id, a sensation akin to driving your car and a tarantula crawling on your leg assaulted him. Every fibre of his being was screaming into his ear to run and don't look back.
Then the armour was pulled free of its home like a wailing hermit crab and triumph and relief replaced the doubt and fear. It was as if David had been missing a vital organ and only now did he feel whole.
Quest completed.
You have taken your dungeon back from the usurper the Clawing Fate. In your previous encounter with the older and far more experienced dungeon you had crippled yourself in an effort to wound your enemy. Without this mutilation it was very possible that you could have faced a much more powerful enemy. Just don't make it into a habit.
Reward. A dungeon domain.
Congratulations. You have earned the Destroyer of Fate achievement for beating the ancient dungeon, Clawing Fate. Reputation with dungeons classed as fortress is 10% lower. Reputation with dungeons classed as forest and school is 10% higher.
Quest alert. Fate of Ie.
Decide the fate of the Crawling Fate dungeon core.
Reward. Unknown.
Quest alert. Configuration, again?
Your new dungeon has been configured towards a setting that doesn't make a bit of sense. In your madness and spite you have crippled not only your enemy but yourself. The current dungeon settings are corrupted, you must reboot. Your functions are limited until you do this.
Reward. You can actually do shit.
Do you wish to change the dungeon's configuration?
And there it was the problem. Dungeon David had infected his own domain with utter gibberish. His domain was fractured; his code for lack of a better term was fucked up. It was necessary, or at least that was what David had told himself when he pulled the stunt, but now it was going to cost him.
