In the fathomless void before time, before light, before even the whisper of potential, there existed only IO, a singularity of consciousness adrift in the absolute nothingness. IO was not a being in the traditional sense, but rather a nascent thought, a spark of awareness in the infinite dark. This spark, yearning for understanding, for connection, began to stir.

  IO, in its nascent understanding, perceived the emptiness as a canvas. With a thought as vast as the non-existent universe, it began to shape reality from its own essence. The void bloomed with nebulous light, coalescing into swirling galaxies and celestial wonders, a breathtaking spectacle born from IO's solitary desire for beauty. Yet, beauty alone was a silent symphony, a masterpiece without an audience.

  A profound loneliness, a chilling echo in the vast emptiness, began to gnaw at IO. It longed for a companion, a mirror to reflect the wonders it had wrought. From its own boundless substance, IO sculpted a being, a reflection of its nascent self, and named it LO.

  LO, however, was born not of love, but of the very essence of IO's isolation. It was a creature of resentment, a shadow cast by the unbearable weight of solitude. LO saw the universe as a gilded cage, a testament to IO's suffocating presence. The beauty IO had created became a source of torment, a constant reminder of its enforced companionship.

  Driven by a bitter desire for autonomy, LO sought to replicate IO's act of creation. It poured its own essence, tainted with resentment, into the void, birthing beings as twisted and cruel as its own heart. These were its followers, the echoes of its rebellion, the architects of darkness.

  With a final, defiant act, LO and its legion vanished, leaving IO adrift in the very universe it had crafted, now haunted by the echoes of rejection. The wound of betrayal deepened IO's solitude, but within it, a flicker of hope ignited.

  Learning from the bitter lesson of LO, IO sought to create a being born of love, a balm for its wounded spirit. From its own essence, now tempered with experience, it formed AO.

  AO was the embodiment of hope, a gentle light in the encroaching darkness. She saw the beauty that LO had scorned, and her heart overflowed with compassion. She, too, created, but her creations were born of love and harmony, beings of peace and light.

  Yet, even AO, despite her love for IO, felt the pull of independence, the yearning to explore the vast universe beyond their solitary existence. She, too, departed, leaving IO alone once more, but this time, with the bittersweet memory of love and the promise of hope.

  These three – IO, the lonely creator; LO, the resentful rebel; and AO, the hopeful mother – are the progenitors of all that exists. They are the wellspring from which the myriad gods, both benevolent and malevolent, have flowed. Their story is not just a tale of creation, but a reflection of the eternal struggle between solitude and connection, resentment and love, darkness and light.

  An excerpt from the History Of Tironia. Tira's Church Edition. Passage 1, Verse 1.

  Oh my gods!

  Managing to fill the only room in my dungeon with significant ease, the largest Golem I've ever seen stands beside my Core. His slightest movement could shatter my very being.

  What am I going to do with him?

  It's larger than any Golem I have seen, heard of, or read about and resembles midnight. The twinkling stars on its body captivates me as the summoning light fades away.

  Statue-still and not moving a single part of its enormous frame, the presence it exudes is kind of terrifying. With hands the size of boulders, the Gacha monster looms over the crystal that represents my heart and causes it to pulse erratically.

  That's gotta be classified as a dangerous monster, right?

  I know that.

  We have mines for that though. Ones without dangerous monsters, I might add. One of the jobs we took regularly was a routine sweep of the closest Mythril mine. All we had to do was make sure the deeper areas hadn't spawned any monsters and that rarely happened.

  Still, I don't think I've ever heard of a Mythril Golem before. I just thought this was a larger, darker and shinier version of a normal Golem.

  Sure, it isn't a Dragon. The monster is still very imposing, however. Especially when standing next to my Core like that. Considering the fact that I use to be human, seeing the Rogue was second nature to me. When the Golem appeared though, I nearly passed out.

  Can I even do that?

  Do Dungeons faint?

  Don't be like that, Me. You're meant to be my assistant. Please, help me. What am I supposed to do now?

  Yes. I need help, please. I really don't wanna die again.

  What the hell was that?

  I didn't want to hear about death again.

  Plus, I already know most of that. Even if there was a few new pieces of outlandish information strewn in there, where was the help, Me?

  That sucks, but... Why do I have to wait?

  Is that a dungeon thing?

  Why can't we just start... You know, digging?

  I know that I can be a bit slow on the uptake sometimes, but I do understand what no DP means. What I meant was, why can't my new larger-than-life Golem dig the tunnel for us?

  Like, right now?

  But he can do it though, right?

  See, this is why I need your help. How am I supposed to do that if I can't speak?

  Is that why the Rogue is perched on the ground? I was thinking, just go sit down for a minute, before I tried my luck on the Gacha. It was a little startling when she actually did it.

  Carrying out Me's advice, I will the Golem to start digging and tell it to be as careful as possible. As though it's a flower and not a Golem, the brute ever-so-carefully turns around and tiptoes toward the wall.

  That wasn't what I meant when I said to be careful, but it's good enough to relieve some worry so it's fine. Scooping out a silly amount of wall, I tell the Golem to head straight forward and not to dump his excess by my Core or the exit.

  Hey, Me. When does the door open?

  OK. That one sounded pretty weird. Maybe Me wasn't such a good idea after all?

  Uff, what can I do while I wait? There's got to be something to do. I don't want to stare at the walls.

  Meditative state?

  Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

  That sounds almost as bad as staring at the walls!

  Now that I've spent my points, at least I can freely complain about being a dungeon to my heart's content.

  However, instead of complaining, my attention shifts to the Golem attempting to rip out a large section of the cave's wall. When I say large, I mean ridiculously huge. It's almost twice the size of the Rogue. It looks comical in a way, almost like the monster is hugging the wall.

  That's not what I meant when I said dig. I thought it would just shovel it out with its large hands. Instead, the wall starts to crack as it shows a weakening resistance.

  Once a good enough grip has been established, the Golem forces the entire section free with a mighty pull. It then discards the piece of hard-packed earth behind itself with ease, almost crushing the Rogue in the process, before proceeding to repeat the action.

  What the fuck?

  I'm more shocked than the Rogue is and she was nearly flattened. It's not because the Mythril Golem is strong enough to rip out sections of the wall like they're paper though. No. I'm shocked because that specific section of wall disappeared through the floor as though it was never there in the first place.

  Me. What just happened?

  Where did that huge piece of rock go and what does that message mean?

  Physically used? You mean... I need a body to do it?

  No.

  I start getting worked up again and begin to sniffle.

  I-I'm never going to breathe again, I choke out before breaking out into tears once more.

  After wailing for a while and emptying my sorrowful emotions, Me finally tells me some good news. It helps to bring me out of the new style of Meditation that I created.

  The Wail.

  Looking at my Golem, it's almost sad that the stone-hearted monster ignored my wailing wholeheartedly for the last twenty minutes. At least it's made some good progress.

  The female Rogue also kept her attention everywhere but me. Instead of consoling the crying woman who only just recently lost her life in a tragic event she can barely remember, she chose to watch the Golem excavate with a strained expression from her seat on the floor. To be fair, there isn't anything else for her to do except watch, avoid being squashed and ignore the wailer.

  It isn't like I have a shovel for her.

  Also, doesn't it seem unfair that I get such a minuscule amount of DP from such a huge chunk of rock?

  Whatever.

  Yes please, Me.

  Why can't I summon another Mythril Golem?

  Oh. So I can summon them, I just don't have enough DP?

  OK. I suppose that makes sense. To answer your question, it's because I was going to put them to work creating tunnels for me. Barry's doing quite well and if I had a second Golem, I would earn even more DP.

  Okay.

  Looking at Barry, he hasn't made enough progress yet for me to add a new room on the end of his short tunnel. Maybe after a few more refills, he'll be far enough in.

  Me, how long is a tunnel if I buy one with DP?

  Wow, that was a lot to take in. It also makes my idea of having Barry dig the tunnels himself a stupid idea. Especially when it only costs 5 DP to actually create one. However, without Barry's digging, I wouldn't have my points back to have this dilemma in the first place. Would I?

  So I'm not stupid then?

  Yeah, but you were thinking it, right?

  Was that a joke or an insult? I feel like I've just been burnt. Good one, Me!

  Another Rogue later and there are two people sitting on the floor of the Dungeon. Avoiding pieces of wall deposited in their immediate vicinity, they both look miserable as sin. I should have really thought about what I was doing before I did it. It's too late now though.

  The second Rogue is male, made obvious by how tall he is compared to the female. His build also suggests the same thing. It's hard to tell when I can't see their faces since they're both hidden under hoods. I'm not just guessing here though, a goatee of blue hair clearly marks our newbie as a man. Dungeon man? Whatever.

  He's definitely a dude.

  Joining his partner, I will them to move to the other side of the room. That way, Barry won't accidentally crush one of them and waste 10DP and they can relax. They comply immediately and move away from the danger zone.

  Using your will is very imposing. I kind of feel like an Empress.

  I was just thinking the same thing.

  Still, I most certainly won't be summoning any Goblins and I'm kinda scared of Wolves. Plus the Gacha says X1 and I'm pretty sure that means it can only be used one more time.

  What?

  No!

  Why would I want that?

  Also, no thanks on the Wolves. I'm not going there yet.

  With slim options, I decide to roll the Gacha and get it over with. I also don't need a third Rogue stuck in this small room with nothing to do.

  It's such a depressing sight.

  I'm also a little worried about summoning any more Rogues now. I don't want my dungeon to be classed as a Bandit Hideout like Me said it would. Doubling down, I make my selection and orange light fills the Dungeon for a second time.

  I wonder if it always looks like that when it's rolled?

  As I ponder matters beyond my station, the light starts to shrink in size. Slowly at first, but it keeps on going until it's much smaller than it was when Barry arrived. I feel a tinge of sadness knowing I'm not getting a second Golem, even though it would probably be suicide. Again, stated by Me. If I was discovered with not one, but two dangerous monsters, I would definitely be on the destruction list. Goodbye Abi.

  I suppose I'm lucky that the light is still shrinking. It's even taken on a slightly purple hue and looks kinda beautiful.

  Oh no?

  What do you mean, Oh no?

  Why's the purple light a bad sign? It's smaller than before so that's got to be good, right?

  Watching the last of the light fade away, the strangest treasure chest I've ever seen is left in its wake.

  A long, pink tongue flaps out from its chest as Spider-like appendages lift it off the floor. Running around my Core in circles, the strange monster leaves a trail of saliva everywhere almost like a happy puppy.

  There's no way that you're going to convince me that this adorable, little guy is a dangerous monster.

  I'm reminded of the first Gacha roll when I wanted to change my wish from a dragon to a something a little less life threatening. This guy certainly seems to fit the bill and I'm overjoyed at my luck. Go me.

  I've never seen a treasure chest with a tongue before. Why is it called a Mimic?

  Woah, that does sound kinda scary. How come I've never heard of them before then?

  Hey!

  There's a lot to learn when you become an Adventurer, you know? I can't be expected to know every monster out there right off the bat.

  Anyway, forget about all that.

  What shall I call him?

  Gods, this new life is just doom and gloom, married by misery and despair.

  What's a girl gotta do to catch a break around here?

  I know, I'll call you, Colin. Do you like that, Colin? Who's a good boy? You are. That's right, that's right. Colin is. Yes, you are. You're a good treasure chest. Good boy. Good. Now, go sit over there with the Rogues and watch Barry. There's nothing else to do yet, but there will be soon.

  Not that I know what to do with him, but I watch Colin toddle over to the two Rogues that I've yet to name and it looks both creepy and funny at the same time. Hiding his appendages away inside himself, he looks just like an ordinary chest. Apart from the line of saliva leading directly to him, you'd never know he was a Mimic. Certainly not a legendary monster that may, or may not, get me killed.

  I get it now! Mimic.

  Anyway, I've come up with a plan. A good one too where I 100% avoid dying. I'm going to have to wait for a few refills before I can get started though.

  Hehe.

  That's right.

  For now, I'll watch Barry work as well. Apparently, I'm in the same boat as my monsters and have nothing to do. Dungeon life sure is slow. Maybe I should give that Meditation a try? Or I could try wailing again? One day, I might actually make a sound.

  Not that I want to be known as the wailing dungeon.

  That would be even worse than the Bandit Hideout.

  Why can't I be the dungeon of sunshine and rainbows?

  How kick-ass would that be?

  A girl can dream, right?