The world of Tironia, a sphere of vibrant hues and untamed wilderness, was cleaved into two distinct realms by the vast, churning expanse of the Ocean Yore. These realms, the continents of Cair and Tira, were not mere geographical entities, but living tapestries woven with contrasting threads of culture, power, and ambition, their histories stretching back into the mists of time, beyond the reach of any written record.

  Cair, a land bathed in the golden light of prosperity, was a realm where opulence reigned supreme. Its very name echoed through its cities, its forests, and its rolling plains, a constant reminder of its central importance. The inhabitants of Cair, the Carians, were a people accustomed to comfort and luxury. Their cities, built with gleaming white stone and adorned with intricate carvings, hummed with the rhythm of commerce and leisure.

  The air itself seemed to shimmer with the promise of wealth, a promise fulfilled by the fortuitous emergence of several dungeons, pockets of magical energy that yielded rare and valuable artifacts. These dungeons, scattered like glittering jewels across the landscape, became the lifeblood of Cair's economy, fueling its artisans, its merchants, and its nobles. Delicate silks, shimmering jewels, and enchanted trinkets flowed from Cair’s workshops, coveted by those across the Ocean Yore.

  In stark contrast, Tira, named after the world itself, presented a landscape of rugged beauty and formidable strength. Tira was a crucible, a land forged in the fires of constant challenge. Its inhabitants, the Tirans, were a people hardened by adversity, their lives shaped by the ever-present threat of the numerous, potent dungeons that dotted their continent. These dungeons, unlike those of Cair, were not mere sources of wealth, but brutal proving grounds, testing the limits of human endurance and skill.

  The relentless pressure of these challenges had forged a military might unparalleled in Tironia. The Tiran armed forces, disciplined and formidable, were a force to be reckoned with, their strength a testament to the rigorous training and harsh environment they endured. Their categorisation system, a rigid hierarchy based on proven ability and combat prowess, ensured that only the strongest and most skilled rose to positions of authority. The clang of steel, the roar of magical incantations, and the steady march of disciplined troops were the sounds that defined Tira.

  The Ocean Yore, a vast and treacherous expanse of water, separated these two distinct continents. Its turbulent waves, teeming with monstrous sea creatures, posed a formidable barrier to travel. Yet, the allure of trade, the insatiable demand for exotic goods, and the daring spirit of merchants ensured that the ocean was never truly impassable.

  Ships, their hulls reinforced against the dangers of the deep, braved the perilous journey, carrying cargoes of Cair’s luxurious goods to Tira and Tira’s potent magical components and rare metals to Cair. These trade routes, though fraught with danger, were the lifeblood that connected the two continents, a testament to the resilience and ambition of their inhabitants.

  The shadow of conflict, however, loomed over this fragile peace. The undeniable might of Tira, tempered in the fires of constant challenge, made it clear that, should war ever erupt, Cair would be hard-pressed to withstand its onslaught. While Cair boasted riches and refinement, Tira possessed the raw power and martial prowess to dominate the battlefield.

  Thus, the choice was clear: for those seeking the allure of wealth and comfort, Cair beckoned with its glittering treasures; for those who craved the glory of combat and the thrill of proving their strength, Tira offered a path to legendary status. The future of Tironia, it seemed, hung in the balance, poised between the allure of wealth and the might of arms.

  A short article on the two great continents dated 1919 by Pali Patiti, Adventurer, Scholar, and Self-Titled Documentarian.

  My third room has been completed and was followed swiftly by my first level up.

  What a glorious half an hour in Abi's dungeon.

  Sweet!

  My Core is in pristine condition once again. I was trying not to think about the small fracture, but I'd be lying if I said it wasn't beginning to worry me. I definitely don't need to add any more of Barry's tunnels to my list. When I'm stronger, maybe I can acquire them without sustaining any damage, but it's a no-go for now.

  Anyway, my DP can now reach 52/40.

  I'm honestly shocked at how much I can hold. It's already more than double what I started with.

  I'm not full yet because I've just spent some points, but I still have good old Barry. After all, it's through his efforts that this was possible in the first place.

  I love you, Barry. Without you, I wouldn't have Stockpile. To be honest, I would probably still be on 20 DP and meditating like every other Dungeon Core. So what I really meant to say was, I really, really love you, Barry!

  I wonder how other dungeons manage it? Being slow that is. I'm also curious as to how they're created in the first place. Not that it's a big issue, but I doubt even Me knows the answer to that one.

  What?

  No.

  No. No. No. No. No. No. NO!

  You can't just sum up our existence like that, Me.

  And I certainly don't want to hear how this happened because some stupid God forgot to turn off an even stupider system! I don't even know how to start processing that! It makes it even harder hearing you phrase it so easily. I... I just... I don't wanna hear it!

  That just totally killed my mood. I was actually happy a minute ago.

  I know. It's not your fault. Still, how do you even know that stuff? I wasn't the brightest flower in the field before I became a Dungeon Core, so how did you turn out so smart if you're made from me?

  You know what, Me? It doesn't matter.

  I don't wanna hear it.

  Yep, don't care.

  Not even a little bit.

  I don't mean to sound rude, but gods and systems? Honestly, I couldn't care less right now. I know I asked the question, but I wasn't actually expecting you to answer. I was still human three hours ago, remember?

  This is a little too much.

  Trying to forget the outrageous information that I just had to ask for, instead, I focus on my dungeon. It's hard when you only have the basics though and don't know which ways you should advance. Crisis averted, I patiently wait for Barry to fill me up while complaining about the unfairness of only having two Gacha rolls.

  Oh Yeah. That feels nice.

  I didn't get far with my thoughts, but I feel great again now that I'm back at full DP. This moment feels special, knowing I can build more than one room at a time makes me feel giddy. 56 points is a lot to play with, where do I start?

  I place a tunnel, followed by a room still heading straight. After that, I try placing another tunnel in the same direction but find myself stopped by a new notification.

  Why can't I place a tunnel here, Me?

  Ah. The outside world. Wait. We're still on Tironia, right? I haven't changed planets as well as species, have I? Wait. Species? Is that the right word for my change in genealogy? Nevermind. It's still the same planet, right?

  The space in which you inhabit? Why do you have to make my space sound so dirty?

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  I'm clean.

  Also, I think that a super-long Dungeon might put people off wanting to explore it.

  ........

  ........

  Thank you, Me.

  I have nothing else to say. If I had a hand, or a head for that matter, I most certainly would be facing some palm right now. At least I learned some wise advice from my foolish mistake.

  Ok, so, right turn.

  Placing my next tunnel to the right, my overview shows it at a perfect 90° angle. At the end, I add the fifth room and another tunnel for when I'm able to continue.

  After I'm done, I move my adorable-drooling Mimic, Colin, and my beautiful jade Core, all the way to the last room. Shockingly, my Core moves by getting soaked up through the floor and then released into whichever room I desire.

  Damn, I'm cool.

  Colin had to walk the whole way and it was hilarious. I got a good chuckle at his tiny feet, tapping away as skittered through. Me couldn't understand what was so funny.

  I add a Weak Wall Torch to my Core Room, as I've taken to calling it, and one in the room with the Rogues. They're still with Barry in the first room I created myself because at least they have something to watch, but we don't want him crushing one of them by accident and claiming it was because he couldn't see them.

  Although workplace injuries happen all the time in poorly lit areas, that won't be the case in my dungeon.

  After that spending spree, I'm excited to see when I'll level up again.

  Give me a hand, Me.

  How come I still have a point left?

  Oh. That seems insignificant thanks to Barry's efforts, but I'll spend it regardless.

  Only 5 XP to go!

  That's only three rooms.

  First, I'll use that single point on another torch and I'll place it in the entrance. That only leaves three rooms and six tunnels left to light. Those tunnels are going to need more than one torch as well because of how long I made them. For now, I'll just use any leftover points on that whilst aiming for the next level.

  Another 52 minutes roll by and I repeat the same steps as before. Another empty room followed by a long-ass tunnel, followed by another room. I would have kept going but my path forward was blocked again by the same error as last time.

  Shrugging it off since there's nothing I can do to fight against The System, I once again turn right with my last tunnel.

  I wonder how far it will let me go this time? Maybe I'll end up back where my entrance is?

  My remaining points go into more torches to light the rooms.

  With 20 minutes to wait before I can build the room that will take me to the next level, I spend the whole time gleefully anticipating how cool Stockpile will make my DP look. As soon as I hit the mark, I purchase the room faster than a noblewoman in a jeweller's.

  My intention is to level up as much as possible before I open. More points mean more paths. I know that no other Dungeon has had a start like mine, so my future is already looking a little promising. Hopefully, there won't be a stray battalion of knights passing by randomly when my door opens.

  ........

  Why did I even think of that!?

  If that happens the blame is on you, Me.

  Exactly!

  After a little joking around with Me, ta-da.

  Yeah. That's right. You know it! Girls are moving up in the world.

  There aren't as many features this time and no skills either, but I'm still pleased by my capacity increasing. When full, it can hold a whooping 78/60 DP.

  Isn't that kind of cheating?

  I can't help but imagine I'm smiling somewhere.

  I'm not complaining though so don't answer that one, Me. That was rhetorical and for my own benefit. All I'm saying is, who's a big girl?

  After a few failed attempts at making Me laugh while taking my regular DP injections off Barry, I managed to get the hang of meditation.

  Sort of.

  I'm in my own zen-like world.

  Which is trippy because it totally wasn't what I was expecting at all.

  I'm able to see my human-self dressed in my adventuring gear. I'm lying on top of a sleeping mat on the Dungeon floor. Even though my hood is over my face, I'd recognise my hair anywhere. The same bright green as my Core, a good portion of it has spilt free and is draped across my face.

  With my hands clasped in front of me, I look like I'm already dead. Thankfully, the steady rising of my chest lets me know that I'm just a messy sleeper. We appear to be on the 7th floor of the Goblin Dungeon. The last place I remember before my humanity was swapped for what-ever-it-is-you-call being a Dungeon Core.

  I watch as my own eyes spring open and it scares the shit out of me. All of a sudden I'm me again. Not looking at myself, but I am myself. I want to let out a celebratory whoop to let Me know that he was wrong, but my body won't move. Well, it will, but it's not me in the driver's seat. My head turns on its own, even as I try to stop it, and I start to panic.

  Wait.

  Stop!

  What's happening, Me?

  ...

  Me?

  To my right is my friend Anya. The cleric who always heals our ass when we need it. She lay only a few feet away and spread out across her own sleeping roll, her head facing my direction. Her long, silver hair is matted with blood and dirt, her clothing ripped and torn, her eyes lifeless and hollow. Her body, an empty husk.

  We have always been close, Anya and I. Ever since we met at the Adventurers Guild. We joined at almost the same time and it bonded us in a way that I hadn't experienced before. She didn't just become my friend, she became my comrade and we formed a party together.

  At this moment though, I can no longer see the beauty in my friend as my vision blurs. Crying miserably, inside and out, my mind sears the atrocity being committed to memory.

  The only person I can see now is Kal. Worse than a Goblin, his sword pins my friend's body to the floor as he commits the unthinkable. The unimaginable. Wearing a twisted expression, the panting of his breath is the only sound audible throughout the Dungeon.

  I try to turn away, but hatred won't move my body. Anger swells inside of me, but confusion won't let go. I can't move. After what feels like an eternity struggling internally, his interest in my best friend dies and his eyes turn in my direction. His grin turns more sadistic as he licks his lips. No one should be able to smile with such malice. I try to look at my body and realise this must be how I died.

  What the fuck.

  Refusing to watch anymore, I close my eyes and cry to myself. The sadness in my heart echoes out like a beacon. I do realise that this isn't actually happening right now and that it's a memory, or a vision, or a dream... Or whatever you wanna call it, but I don't care. I'm not down for watching myself get... Dead?

  Yeah. Dead. It's as good a word as any.

  That's what happened. I got deaded! By some dickhead I thought was my friend. Our friend!

  Me's words light up my world as I realise that I'm no longer stuck in that horrible dream space. Instead, I'm in my Core room and all my monsters are gathered around me. My Rogues, Light and Ali, both seem furious and I swear there's sand coming out of Barry's eyes.

  How did Barry get all the way here?

  Colin is salivating, as he does. He doesn't even have any eyes. Just funny feet, a massive tongue and a lot of drool.

  How did you get here, Barry?

  Yes, I know. Barry can't speak. I asked out of shock more than anything.

  What happened, Me?

  Hehe.

  Don't talk about yourself in the third person. It makes you seem strange.

  Aww, you guys.

  You're all awesome, thank you.

  I really wish they could hear me.

  I think I can, but it's not the same thing. I want to say thank you and show them my appreciation. They're loyal just like you said they would be.

  Yes. I might think about considering whether or not to decide if I should potentially try and risk the chance of creating a scary Wolf.

  It's just a daunting idea, Me.

  Wait, what!?

  The next...

  Why didn't you tell me that earlier? I bet I could have done that with the Rogues as well, couldn't I? To hell with the Bandit Hideout analogy. After what I've just seen, I don't care anymore!

  It's... Not important now. It could be if we ever see that bastard Kal again though.

  Doesn't matter. For now, just keep a lookout for any large knights that may enter the area, got it? In fact, can you access the dungeon the same way that I can?

  Cool, but for now, just watch out for the knight, OK?

  What!?

  There's only six hours left? I thought I had around twenty or something like that. What happened to all my time?

  Meditating? Meditating?

  Meditating my arse!

  It sure as hell didn't feel like Meditation.

  No way, Me. What's the point of relaxing if it means missing out on level ups and expanding the dungeon? Also, it wasn't really Meditation at all. It was more like a gods-damn nightmare!

  The Rogues aren't monsters, they're people.

  Well... None, but you never know.

  And if they're monsters, then why do they look like people?

  I'm not going to ask them to die.

  Jeez, Me. Lighten up. I get it they're monsters, they just look human. Still doesn't mean you have to be so mean to them.

  Fine, well done. Mission accomplished.

  What?