The Dungeon Child

Dillon's eyes widen to the size of Theory's tunnels. "You'd give me - holy - are you serious?" Behind him, Charlie stops playing with her two statues made from flame and glances over. Running a hand through his hair, he steeples his fingers, eyes flicking about at nothing as he thinks about it. "Okay, well that's a really good offer, not gonna lie, but I don't know how difficult the problem is... Can I think about it?"

I shake my head immediately, wincing as my head throbs. If there are any drawbacks to this plan that I hadn't noticed then I'd rather Dillon not know about them. "No, you can't. Help me put this thing back in me and I'll give you a tempo - temp - temp-o-rary supply of magic, same as Charlie. Take it or don't."

He starts pacing, putting one finger to his chin and talking rapidly as he thought. "Well, it seems like a good deal, but how can I possibly know whether or not-"

I interrupt irritably. "Dillon. Now or never."

Groaning frustratedly, he spins around and holds out a hand, keeping his primary fingers together and raising his thumb. "Fine. Deal."

I stare at it with no small amount of confusion. "Uhhh... what is that?"

He glances down. "It's a - it's a handshake. Have you never - how have you never? - never mind."

Shaking my confusion away, I reach my own hand out. Based on the title of his odd greeting, I can assume that it's some sort of deal-acceptance ritual, and promptly shake his hand. In the back of my mind, I wonder if perhaps I do know what this is, and my sickness-addled brain is simply misremembering it.

Underneath our feet, I can clearly sense Theory politely clapping her front two legs before going back to work expanding on the size of her tunnels. Immediately, my core-self starts considering the thought processes behind Theory's estimation of what does and doesn't count as a perfect tunnel, and begins running small experiments under the floorboards to check on which ones are optimal as opposed to others. Once again, it's a series of thoughts and processes that my human-self is utterly incapable of, and I feel an odd stab of worry.

Rubbing his hands together, Dillon reaches for the core, and I slap his hands away, nonplussed. Without so much as blinking, he sits back and purses his lips, clearly thinking. "So! First things first - If I'm going to help you, I need to know some kind of important stuff about magic. Specifically, the kind of magic you told me not to tell anyone about."

Glancing at Charlie, I ask with a faint smile, "Charlie, do you want to play with Theory outside for a bit? Dillon and I need to talk about some private things."

"Guy things," Dillon interjects, and I glare at him. It passes over Charlie's head entirely, and her face splits in a massive smile. "Really? I've wanted to play with her ever since your mom told me about her!"

With a simple thought, my core-self redirects one of Theory's tunnels and pops the lid directly in front of Charlie. Startled, Theory pokes her small black head out of it, and Charlie leans down, beaming. "Hi there, Theory! I'm Charlie! Do you want to play?"

Blinking cautiously, Theory glances over at me, and I nod simply. Crawling out of her tunnel, Theory taps Charlie on the leg nervously, and Charlie giggles. "That tickles! Do you want to go outside?"

Theory considers it for a moment, then nods. Clumsily, Charlie reaches down and carefully scoops her up, and then gets to her feet. "We're going to go now."

Watching the whole thing in silence, I smile, and she bounces out of the room. The moment the door closes, Dillon swings on me. "What was that? Was that spider - which, by the way, is freaky to the maximum - autonomous or were you controlling it?"

I glare at him. "Her, not it. Her name is Theory. And no, I'm not controlling her. There is a massive amount of decision-making that needs to be done for any boss, and it needs to be done by her and her alone."

Dillon nods thoughtfully, mind racing, or at least crawling. "Yeah, that makes sense. I mean, in a dungeony way, obviously - none of that makes sense out of context."

Sighing, I ask, "Can we get on with it?"

Snapping his fingers, Dillon grins. "Right, right. Core thing. So! First question - how the heck did you make it?"

Leveling my stare at him, I tell him, "The same way I make everything else. With mana."

He points at me. "Exactly! So what does that involve? How do you do it?"

I look down at my hands. "Like this."

Once again, I create a simple candy stick, and leave it floating gently in my hand. Pointing at it with both hands, Dillon asks, "Yeah, but how are you doing that? Like, what exactly does it involve? Are you making it from nothing? And where do you get the mana?"

Frowning, I ask, "What does this have to do with the core?"

He rolls his eyes, and I resist the urge to insult him and a few of his less appealing aspects. "This has everything to do with the core. Can you just answer the questions? They're not big questions."

Mentally, I refocus myself, promising myself that I can watch Theory catch and eat insects later to make me feel better. "Fine. I channel mana through my hands and create the construct by repeating the patterns I discover."

He blinks hard. "Wait, so you're converting energy into mass? That can't be right."

I raise an eyebrow. "Why not?"

Standing, he starts pacing again. "Because that'd take stupid amounts of energy. Like, for example, there are these things called atomic bombs. They work by splitting an atom - a single freaking atom - and make an explosion."

I snort lightly through my nose. "It must be a very small explosion then."

He shakes his head, his hair flopping in front of his face. Brushing it out of the way, he continues. "That's the thing! They make huge explosions! Even the earliest atomic bomb was enough to level an entire city! They were banned world-wide because they were too destructive!"

I make a mental note - stop trying to split atoms and make more matter. Out loud, I ask, "What's your point?"

He locks his hands together and points at me again. "My point is, you shouldn't be able to convert energy into matter unless you have a whole lot of it! So how are you doing that?"

The honest answer? I don't know. Instead of saying that, I tell him imperiously, "Magic. I'm not converting energy into matter, I'm converting mana into either energy or matter."

His face screws up in confusion. "Well, how the heck are you doing that? What's mana and where are you getting it?"

I raise a hand, indicating the room. "For the most part, I absorb small amounts of it from the air and compile it. Once I've used it to dungeonify an area, the area generates mana by itself."

His head tilts. "How does that work?"

With an exasperated sigh, I demand, "I have no idea how any of this is relevant to the core!"

Throwing his hands in the air, Dillon responds excitedly, "And I keep telling you, it has everything to do with the core! It's the physical manifestation of that weird, inexplicable dungeon part of you! It's literally the answer to all of our questions if we just science it enough!"

Closing my eyes, I lean back on my hands. "Very well. What do you want to know about the core? I might not answer all of your questions."

His response comes instantly. "Is it part of you, or is it all on its own?"

I indicate the core, gently floating about four inches above the floor. "It's still part of me. I can distinctly sense the entire room at the same time. I suppose I could describe it as a split in mind. I am fully human still-" (Dillon snorts in derision at that, and I ignore him) "-while being the core at the same time. And before you ask, I have no idea how or why it turned out the way it did."

Dillon's eyes narrow. "Wait, why were you trying to make a core in the first place?"

I shrug shamelessly. "I'm sick. I was miserable. I wanted an out."

He curls his lip in agreement. "Fair enough. So, next question - is there any difference between you and the core?"

I stare at its flawless surface. "Yes. The core is capable of higher processing than my physical body and able to run multiple experiments at the same time. It also improves my dungeon's mana circulation, and lets me keep an eye on everything without needing to think about it."

He blinks. "...So, why do you want to get rid of it again?"

I growl, closing one eye as the headache throbs. "Because it's giving me a headache, and it hurts."

Gesturing positively, Dillon sits down in a cross-legged position, thinking carefully. I allow him to sit there for several minutes in perfect silence before asking, "What is it? Have you got an idea?"

Pensively, Dillon slowly says, "Look. I really - really - want magic, not gonna lie. I'm worried you'd like mind-control me if I did lie, actually." I concede the point with a nod, and he continues. "Buuut... I don't think I should help you with this."

I stand up abruptly, my chubby hands clenching into fists, and he waves his hands in the air hurriedly. "Just hear me out, okay? If this is going to be a long-term relationship - which I hope it is, because you said this thing was gonna be temporary and I can think of a hundred and one experiments I'd like to do with magic - then I gotta advise when I think you're making a mistake. And honestly? I think this is a big one."

My eyes narrow. "Explain."

He stands up, walking aimlessly around my room. "You literally just discussed, like, an entire list of reasons why the core is really helpful! If I'm gonna be a part of this, I want your dungeon to be running at optimal levels." He frowns to himself. "Man, can't believe I said that sentence with a straight face."

Disregarding his thoughts, I consider his advice, trying to ignore the headache screwing through my skull. "I'm going to get rid of this headache."

He waves it away. "That could be you being sick, not the core. Besides, it's a major change, there's bound to be some settling in required, right?"

Sighing, I respond irritably, "Fine, I'll keep it for now. Anything else before I give you magic?"

He nods. "Just one thing. It's really important, and you have to answer truthfully, all right?"

I roll my eyes. "Fine. What is it?"

A shadow crosses his face. "You said you used to be a dungeon. Wasn't sure I believed you all the way, but I do now. So my question is this." He leans in closely, utterly serious. "Have you ever killed someone?"

My answer is instant. "Of course. I was a dungeon - it was my job."

His eyes narrow. "Did you enjoy it?"

I nod again, and he prods one more time. "Last question - do you think you still would?"

I nearly answer positively, but then pause. Meeting Dillon, Charlie, having the Mother around - there is so much potential in the human race that I once would have never considered to even be part of my notice. I can only imagine how much more successful my dungeon would have been with the assistance of their minds operating in angles that mine doesn't.

So would I truly enjoy ending that potential?

Hesitantly, I respond, "I'm not sure."

He shrugs. "Good enough for me. Let's do this thing."

I nod, my mind still thinking about that unexpectedly uncomfortable question. "Agreed. Let's get this over with."