Why Yes, I am an Evil Lair. (Worm/Dungeon Core) (No Longer A Quest)

Automatonation · Jul 28, 2018

AN: Let's try this again.

Darkness. Pain. Voices in the dark.

"Will he recover?" A woman, older. Cold.

"Yes, but not without further action." Another woman, younger, with traces of an indescribable accent. The diction is… Odd. I can't place it. Observe!

"He had better be worth the inconvenience. Doormaker took several days to recover from the strain, and so far has been unable to open another portal to his former world." Nothing. Why? Observe! Menu!

"The Path indicates that this could be the breakthrough we need." It's not working! What is happening? Status!

"And yet his health still declines. You were unsure, and for all that we rely on it, the Path is not immutable or infallible." I can't move! HELP ME!

"He is a symbiotic organism, and requires… Installation… in order to thrive." Can't anyone hear me?

"You want him here?" HELP!

"No. There is a favor that is owed." What are you talking about?

"Ah. Calvert?" What are you doing with me?

"Yes. The experiment will not succeed, but with this new variable, we can salvage our resources." What experiment? Am I the variable?

"I see. Very well, proceed." WHO ARE YOU?

"Door me." Who… Who am I?

Waking is… Unpleasant. I slowly rose from drifting dreams of roiling gray fog with into an uncomfortable crescendo of pain, ending in the horribly familiar icepick-in-the-eye-socket pain of a severe migraine. I jolted upright, screaming, and then the agony stops suddenly, leaving me feeling empty and drained. 'What the fuck?' I whispered to myself, looking around. Instantly, I knew that something was terribly wrong. I sure as hell didn't fall asleep in a bare prison cell. I spun around frantically, my gaze darting over bare cinder-block walls, haphazardly covered with drab gray paint, streaks dripping down from where the paint was applied hastily, the single door made of solid steel with a single sliding panel concealing what I suspected was a food slot, the polished stainless steel toilet and sink set into the wall, and finally, the thin bunk jutting out from the wall, a flat, hard mattress sitting on it, covered in a coarse-looking white sheet.

"How the hell did I wake up in prison? I don't even drink! What happened last night?" I mutter to myself. Silence. "Hello?" Not just silence from nobody answering, the silence of an empty room. My voice was utterly silent. For a fleeting moment, I thought I was deaf, but I could hear the hum of the fluorescent lights over my head, the gurgle of the plumbing behind me. I looked down at myself in confusion, and screamed, stumbling backward. Well, tried to scream. Almost stumbled backward, for that matter. All that happened is that my viewpoint shifted, and I truly looked at myself. A column of flesh-colored stone, smooth and glistening oddly, carved into the shape of a cowering, naked person, the feet and hands melded into the smooth gray concrete floor. Where the head should be, a head-sized spherical orb of green crystal, glowing faintly and appearing far deeper than it should have been, swirling green-blue fog twisting inside the crystal in a three-dimensional maelstrom. No eyes, and yet I could see. Clearly, easily, and from a perspective currently three feet behind where what ought to be my head is located.

I move slowly around myself – and isn't that an odd phrase – and find the movement instinctive, easy, and smooth, like gliding over ice. My core…. That word came to mind oddly easily, far too easily for it to be a coincidence…. Anyway, my core didn't move or change, regardless of where I was or how quickly I moved. There are no changes in the reflections in the polished steel fixtures, either. I try to wave a hand through myself, and either there is no resistance, or I don't actually have an arm and it's all psychosomatic and I am dropping this train of thought right now before I freak out. I dart for the door. I'm invisible, maybe I can just ghost through the door. No such luck. The story of my life, really, but when my viewpoint hits the door, I slam back inside my core, with a stab of pain and the taste of blood in my mouth. I scream in frustration, and then BLUE.

Yes, BLUE, not blue. My vision is filled with a blue rectangle, everywhere I look, with a single word in white, smooth font.

Calibrating...

A loading screen. The Ellipsis is cycling.

.
..
…
.
..
…

There's a loading screen. In my head. Which is a ball of green crystal on the neck of a naked statue in the middle of a bare cell in God-only-knows-where, OKAY FREAKING OUT TIME IS NOW!

And then it stops.

And the words appear.

Gamer System: Dungeon Core Edition initialized.
Dungeon Mind initiated.
Dungeon Body initiated.
Manawell initiated.

Welcome, Gamer!
Due to forces outside of your control, you are now participating in our beta of the DUNGEON CORE System. Thank you for your cooperation!

Commands Unlocked: Status, Units, Rooms, Help

Why is this so comforting? Why should a window calling me Gamer be calming? Why the fuck am I so flipping chill! I keep getting pissed off about being so mellow, and the mood whiplash is killing me. And there it goes. Ok. Put it in a drawer, lock it, pocket the key. Think about it later.

I can't actually say anything, so here we go. Imma thinks hard at things.

Help.

Welcome to the Gamer System: Dungeon Core Edition.

Due to the new and exciting possibilities inherent to a new system, your experience and gameplay may change. If this occurs, the developers will include documentation and as much assistance as possible, to ensure smooth transitions between versions and a positive gameplay experience

Current Topics:
What is a Dungeon?
What is a Dungeon Core?
What is Mana?
What are Rooms?
What are Units?
What are Traits?

OK. This is ringing some bells, but it's becoming increasingly obvious that I have some serious memory issues. I mean, I know instinctively that I shouldn't be in prison, for some reason, and I can obviously read, and I think I know what a game is, cause that's something you can play, except this seems to be my FUCKIN' LIFE NOW, and now I'm mellow. Man, I wonder what is causing this?

"Help" said:
Dungeon Mind: The ability of the Dungeon Core System to adjust and moderate the emotions of the personality within the Dungeon core, to prevent mental trauma and potential damage to the psyche.

Well. That is certainly more than a little bit [NOT SCARY AT ALL]. As was that. Obviously, it will be better to just mooove on. Throw it in the box. With all the rest of the bad things.

At least I have some swears. Swears will help

Ok, fucking help. What the fuck is a fucking dungeon, fuckface?

One swear, at least. God, am I twelve? They're fucking profanity, not 'swears', you dipsh-

"Help" said:
What is a Dungeon?

A dungeon is a sentient Mana extraction, filtration, and infusion system, intended to extract Mana from living and non-living matter, filter and purify it, and then infuse it into its surroundings, causing a Mana-rich environment. This environment boosts health and wellness in organics, increases growth and recovery rates, and encourages beneficial magical mutations in living organisms. In low-magic environments, this effect will eventually introduce active magic to a world that may not have had any previously.

Structurally, a Dungeon is a living, sapient building or cave system, depending on the theme, and can always be identified by three primary features: A Dungeon Core, Rooms, and Units.

Wow. I mean…. Yeah, that's out of left field, and I don't have any memories or context. I'm starting to get excited though. Being a dungeon will give me the power to literally change the world. Agency. Control of myself and my environment. Well, that's new. I like it.

What's a Dungeon Core?

"Help" said:
Your Dungeon Core is your heart and mind, the seat of your consciousness, and the most important - and most vulnerable - part of your Dungeon. The initial dimensional tap that allows you to introduce Mana into the world, as well as the ethereal processors that allow you to refine and convert Mana into matter, and vis versa, are both contained within the crystal orb set into the carved stone pedestal, which is infused with your soul and consciousness. If your Dungeon Core is damaged, your ability to support Units, as well as create and modify Rooms, is impaired until you regenerate. Your health is quantified as HP, and your ability to resist and regenerate damage grows as you become more experienced.

So, don't get hurt, getting hurt hurts. That's a no-brainer.

Ok, moving on. Gonna guess that Mana is Magical energy, and lets me do things. Am I right?

"Help" said:
Mana, quantified as MP, is a form of refined magical energy

Called it!

that is present in trace quantities in all matter, but is far more prevalent in living organisms, most strongly in sentient life. As such, a Dungeon Core can convert inorganic matter into trace amounts of Mana, and expend Mana to convert it into matter, either non-living in the form of Rooms, decorations, traps, and loot, or living in the form of Units.

Mana good is good and makes me work. How do I get more Mana, then?

"Help" said:
A Dungeon Core naturally captures Mana from the space between worlds, and its ability to do so increases with the amount of space it has available as a filter in the form of Rooms. Additionally, Rooms allow a Dungeon to absorb both the ambient Mana produced by life originating outside the Dungeon, as well as the surge of Mana released when a death occurs inside the Dungeon. As the Dungeon refines and releases more Mana into the world, life outside the Dungeon becomes more magical and therefore generate and expend more Mana, increasing the amount of Mana a Dungeon can absorb from them. This is commonly known as the Mana Enrichment Cycle.

Ok. Time for a break. I gotta think about this. Phenomenal reality-warping power, check. That's awesome. And yet, reading between the lines, I will literally need to kill and eat people - sentient life - to thrive. I'm not sure what to think about that. Anyway. Bored of reading the help menu. I have Mana, let's see what I can do.

I look deep inside myself. It's made much easier by moving my viewpoint just outside the Orb of my Core, and I start watching the smoky swirl of Mana inside myself, focussing on speeding it up and drawing it out. I… well, I don't have a real frame of reference for time anymore, but it seems to take a while before I finally draw Mana out from my Core, through the Pedestal, and out into the floor of the cell. As more and more Mana flowed out of me, it seemed to sink into the floor, tracing out the grains of the poured concrete, reinforced with rebar, and darting along plumbing and drains before crawling up the walls and over the ceiling, bringing the whole ten-foot by ten-foot cell into my perception. I ruffled the sheets on the cot, played with the faucet on the sink, flushed the toilet, reveling in my ability to do anything. Admittedly, that wasn't much, and it seemed like my Entrance was locked from the outside. Odd. I could hear the capitals that my subconscious assigned that word. Well, chalk that up to being a Dungeon. Another blue box blinks into existence in my perception.

Congratulations, Dungeon!

You have assimilated your first room, and have unlocked the following actions:
Level up Dungeon
Add Rooms
Summon Unit

You have gained the following achievement:
Baby Steps - Assimilate your first room - MP refilled.

Well, well, well. That's very nice. Looks like I can get achievements that give me nice things too. Screw the Help menu, let's do things! Ro-

Alert!
Enemies approach your Dungeon!

All Actions locked while enemies are inside your Dungeon! Prepare yourself!

Shit! What now?

Before I could gather my thoughts, much less open a menu to even see what I could do, I hear footsteps outside my door, and the sounds of heavy bolts unlocking. A burly man wearing black combat armor over dark grey combat fatigues pushes the door open with one hand, an excessively large black pistol held in one hand sweeping over the entire room before pointing directly at my core. He moves in, holding the door open, and a shorter, but equally bulky man in matching fatigues steps in, aiming a large rifle, which had an odd black tube attached right under the barrel, at me as he sidesteps to stand by the doorframe, revealing my third adversary. A tall, skeletally thin man, clad head to toe in a skin-tight black bodysuit, the only feature a massive white snake logo starting on his face, coiling back over the top of his head before winding down and around his torso and one leg, strode into the room. "Good Evening." He said softly. The snake-man's voice was deep, rich, and smooth, but held a hint of menace. "My name is Coil, and I am your new…" He trailed off for a moment, before twitching slightly, his posture becoming less relaxed. "Employer. I have many different assets, and I can make you rich beyond your wildest dreams if you cooperate willingly."

Money? He's going to offer me money. How am I going to use the money, I literally cannot move outside of this room?

Perhaps realizing this, Coil continues. "Or, of course, whatever else your heart desires." He gestures languidly, and the man with the rifle aims it at the base of my column, where one of my carved, immobile hands merged into the floor. "On the other hand, defiance…" He snaps his fingers, and the armed man pulls a secondary trigger, firing a lance of brilliant purplish light at my carved hand. I shriek in soundless agony as my carved hand explodes into red rock dust.

-48 HP! MP Efficiency -1%

"Will be punished severely." Coil finishes, his rich voice going oily. "I trust I make myself clear?"

"Perfectly clear, you dick." I spit. He can't hear me, of course. I try and flush the toilet, to show him what I think of him, but of course, I can't actually do anything while enemies are in my Dungeon. Lovely.

"I think forty-eight hours should be sufficient for you to demonstrate your willingness to comply. Don't disappoint me." Coil turns and strides out the door, the two mercenaries following him.

Enemies have left the Dungeon!

All available Actions now unlocked!

"Ok. Forty-eight hours." I mutter to myself. Time to really see what I can do. Status.

Status:
Level: 1
Core HP: 1952
Max HP: 2000
Total area: 100 Ft2
Current MP: 10
Max MP: 10
MP Regeneration: 0.8 MP/Hr
Upkeep: 0 MP/Hr
Total MP Regeneration: 0.8 MP/Hr

AN:
Yeah, so I had initially released something like this as a quest, and realized within just a couple of chapters that it was getting away from me terribly, due to a combination of things, not least of which was a terrible, clunky system, and being unprepared in general for a unit management style quest.

Still like the concept, so after a major re-write and rebuild of my underlying mechanics, here we go.

Automatonation · Jul 28, 2018

Of course, it's not that easy.

59:45

C'mon!

59:50

Just a little more!

59:55

Ok, just 5 more seconds aaaand….

00:00

+6.2 MP

YES! Assimilate Cells A1, A2, and A3!

You have chosen to assimilate three rooms, a total of 300 square feet, at a cost of 7.5 MP. Confirm?

Yes! Last three rooms, and now after the mana trickles into those rooms, I'll contain the entirety of this tiny 8 cell wing of whatever base or lair Coil has me stashed in. That usually takes about five minutes, but I only get MP regeneration after each hour. So I'm stuck waiting, with nothing to do. It's been four hours since Coil issued his ultimatum. Immediately after he left, I assimilated the corridor outside my cell - a corridor forty feet long and eight wide, with four cells on each side, ending with a plain wall closest to me, and a large steel double-door on the other side that I couldn't coax my mana beyond. Assimilation is a hell of a thing. According to the Menu, it takes 5 MP, or Mana Points, to create a 100 square foot room with a ten-foot ceiling. Oddly, while it looks like I can change the height of the room, it doesn't seem to change the cost significantly, not like the floor space does. Assimilating an existing area by infusing my Mana into the structure costs half as much, so after a bit of math, that 320 square foot corridor that would have cost 16 MP to create from solid rock - more than I could have possibly generated, with a starting MP cap of 10 - only cost 8 MP to assimilate, giving me a total area of 420 square feet.

And here's where the magic starts. And I'm not talking about the actual fucking magic that I am doing, no, I am talking about fucking math. See, everything is based on my floor area. My Mana Point limit, the total amount of Mana that I can hold available before the remainder pours into the environment and becomes unusable? That's one-tenth of my total floor area so that one room gave me a total cap of 42 MP - and only 2 MP in the bank. That's not so bad though, cause my MP regeneration is 1/12 of my peak MP, recovered every hour, on the hour. So, boom, regeneration of 3.5 MP per hour. Long story short, here I am, assimilating the last three rooms in the cell block, four hours later, and hopefully….

Rooms Assimilated!
+300 Area
MP Cap: 112

And not a single MP to my name. Zero. Zilch. Nada. Ah well, I'll get another 9.3 in an hour.

Congratulations!
You have assimilated Cell Block A!
Achievement unlocked: Jailhouse Rock - Assimilate all of Cell Block A - MP refilled

A surge of energy flows through me, so rich and dense it almost hurts. Wow…. OK, that feels super nice. And I have GOT to keep an eye out for more Achievements if they'll refill my MP like that. Well, time to figure something out. I've had a creeping sense of dread building since Coil left, and I think it's because I don't have any Units. It's like being naked, but on the inside. All it would take is for one of those mercenaries to wander in, and they could just walk up to my Core and murder me without any issues. The worst part is, I tried to lock the door to my Core Room, and I was completely unable to do so. I could open and close the door, no problem, and I could move the lock mechanisms if the door was open, but try and move them with the door closed… Nothing. On top of that, the large, steel double door at the end of my corridor was outside of my control and locked from the outside.

Anyway, time to work on summoning some Units. Help menu, do your thing!

"Help" said:
As part of their ability to craft matter out of Mana, Dungeons have the ability to create living or magical organisms out of pure Mana. This is actually more efficient than creating non-living matter, due to a larger concentration of Mana in living organic matter. There are some niche exceptions to the rule, particularly in the case of Undead, although those can be explained due to the Mana magically animating the dead flesh. More unusual are Machine units, which are comprised primarily of inorganic matter, and so, therefore, cost more per Unit, but also have far lower upkeep costs than most other comparable units. Upkeep is the amount of Mana per hour needed to maintain control and integrity of a single unit and is subtracted from your base hourly Mana regeneration. If your total upkeep exceeds your Mana regeneration, you will begin to drain your MP, and once you hit zero MP, you will begin to lose units at random until you no longer have negative total regeneration.

Very nice. So, I want to make sure I balance my Mana regeneration with my Unit upkeep, which means making sure I have enough rooms ready. Time to get started, then.

Show available units.

[Accordion=bleft|100%]
{Slide=Rats|center}
Rats are cheap, but tend to have low health. They tend to focus on swarm tactics, backed by a handful of heavier tanks. More powerful units often have special abilities that reduce the cost of lower tier units.

Tier 1

Large Rat: MP Cost: 3
Upkeep Cost: 0.25 MP/Hour

The Large Rat is a rodent about the size of an average housecat. With strong jaws that can chew through concrete, given time, and an evil disposition, this rat is not to be underestimated.

{/slide}
{Slide=Dogs|center}
Dogs offer medium levels of damage and health, with clever teamwork making up the difference and allowing them to take on larger or stronger foes. Higher level Dogs are extremely powerful combatants.

Tier 1

Wild Dog: MP Cost: 5
Upkeep Cost: 1 MP/Hour

The Wild Dog is a feral mutt, afflicted with a variety of diseases that leave it frothing at the mouth and capable of infecting its foes with a quick-acting variety of Rabies that can cause them to turn on their allies with little to no provocation.
Young Wolf: MP Cost: 7
Upkeep Cost: 1 MP/Hour

Although it is not yet full grown, this adolescent wolf is still a proficient pack hunter. When you have more than three wolves of any tier, the total upkeep cost for all wolves is reduced by 50%

{/slide}
{Slide=Spiders|center}Spiders are trap and ambush specialists, with nasty Damage over Time attacks. Due to the significant prevalence of arachnophobia, spider units have a significant chance of causing Fear effects and making opponents flee.

Tier 1

Oversized Spider: MP Cost: 5
Upkeep Cost: 1 MP/Hour

A slender orb-weaving spider about the size of an average housecat, this spider spins remarkably strong webs that can trap and entangle larger foes. It doesn't have particularly strong venom, which just means that its victims take longer to die.
Jumping Spider: MP Cost: 7
Upkeep Cost: 1 MP/Hour

Although this fuzzy jumping spider is the size of a basketball, it's oversized eyes and soft fur give it a disarmingly cute appearance. Don't let that fool you, this spider has a powerful paralytic venom that can kill within minutes.

{/slide}
{Slide=Slimes|center}Slimes can evolve to higher tier units by consuming sufficient enemies. They are versatile, but tend to be weaker than other Units without overwhelming numbers.

Tier 1

Lesser Ooze: MP Cost: 5
Upkeep Cost: 0.5 MP/Hour

An ambulatory slime mold with an extremely acidic body, this magical creature hunts by hurling portions of itself at its foes, and slowly eats them alive. Can move and extrude portions of itself surprisingly quickly.
Lesser Slime: MP Cost: 3
Upkeep Cost: 0.5 MP/Hour

A large globe of translucent, acidic slime, this magical creature is mindless, but relentless, and absorbs properties of anything that it eats.

{/slide}
{Slide=Undead|center}
All Undead can be raised from Humanoid corpses at half MP cost, and some have additional effects that engage automatically that let them raise enemies as new allied units. Undead are initially expensive, but have lots of available discounts, moderately powerful, and geared towards swarm tactics.

Tier 1

Basic Skeleton: MP Cost: 10
Upkeep Cost: 0.5 MP/Hour

A simple fleshless skeleton. All Skeletons will gradually reassemble themselves if their bones are scattered, but cannot regenerate broken bones.
Basic Zombie: MP Cost: 10
Upkeep Cost: 0.5 MP/Hour

A human zombie of random gender and size that is slow, shambling, and wants your brains. The Zombie Plague causes all humanoid opponents who die during combat with a Zombie to rise as a Zombie of that Tier.

{/slide}
{Slide=Machines|center}Machines are expensive initially but have reduced upkeep costs. Specialized rooms can be built to reduce the upkeep even further or decrease the cost of summoning units.

Tier 1

Mechanical Turret: MP Cost: 10
Upkeep Cost: 0.25 MP/Hour

A stationary semi-automatic gun turret with rudimentary IFF and auto-targeting. Can be mounted on the floor, wall or ceiling with no change in performance.
Scout Drone: MP Cost: 5
Upkeep Cost: 0.5 MP/Hour

This small quadcopter drone can venture outside of your claimed areas, to give you a peek at your surroundings. Unfortunately, it's fragile and easily destroyed.
Gun Buggy: MP Cost: 10
Upkeep Cost: 0.5 MP/Hour

Some mad fool mounted a large caliber pistol in the back of this remote-controlled toy dune buggy. Nimble, and packs a lot of punch, but cannot take much damage.

{/slide}
[/Accordion]

Well, that's fun. I dive into the menu for a few minutes, getting more detailed information. Ok, so the Rats, Slimes, and Spiders are cheap initially and have low upkeep costs, but look like they're not as strong. The Wild Dog and Young Wolf are fairly nice, with middling initial costs and upkeep costs, but it looks like the Young Wolf units will have their upkeep halved if I have enough of them, which makes them much more viable. I'm much more interested in the Undead units, however. The Basic Zombies and Skeletons have high initial costs, but the upkeep is cheap, and they take a lot of damage to actually put down. In terms of dealing some damage, the high-powered Mechanical Turrets and Gun Buggies have powerful firearms as weapons.

Ok, 112 MP, and 9.3 MP per hour. Don't want to use all my MP upkeep, I actually need to keep regenerating Mana. So…. Hmm…. Ok, let's get a pair of Mechanical Turrets in the core Room to protect myself, as well as a pair on either side of my Entrance doors, to ambush people coming in. So that's 40 MP right off the bat, and a total of 1 MP/Hour in Upkeep costs. Not too shabby….

The turrets faded into existence in under thirty seconds in a shimmer of lovely blue lights that start out as a faint outline, and fill into a heavy mechanical turret, all steel, painted a matte black. The barrels panned back and forth slowly with a quiet mechanical purr, and I know instinctively that they will automatically target any enemy in range, but I can override their targeting at any time. Very, very nice.

I move my focus into the main corridor and then summon a quartet of Basic Zombies. Another 40 MP down, and 2 MP/hour upkeep, but they'll automatically resurrect enemies they kill as new zombies with no initial MP cost. I think I can handle the extra .5 MP/hour, especially if I get a fair amount of MP when I kill an enemy. The zombies fade into existence, rotten, desiccated corpses, clad in tattered rags. Three men, one woman, all rotten enough to prevent a casual identification of any identifying features other than gender. The smell was… impressively bad. Made me glad I could ignore my sense of smell. Ok. Zombies… Hide in the cells. The doors open inward, so maybe on the side without hinges? The zombies lurched into place, the doors opening smoothly for them. I decide to leave the doors open for now, to save some time. I may change my mind on the ambush. Maybe as enemies are distracted by my turrets, the zombies can move in?

As an afterthought, I cut off the lights in the corridor and additional cells. There, that should dramatically increase the effectiveness of an ambush. I don't need to see to be able to direct my units.

Ok, time to reassess. So, Status.

Status:
Level: 1
Core HP: 2000
Max HP: 2000
Total area: 1120 Ft2
Current MP: 32
Max MP: 112
MP Regeneration: 9.3 MP/Hr
Upkeep: 3 MP/Hr
Total MP Regeneration: 6.3 MP/Hr

Ok, so that's reasonable. The next blue box takes me by surprise.

Congratulations!
You have unlocked the following Traits:
Necrophile - Undead Tree Unlocked
Tech Enthusiast - Machine Tree Unlocked

You have summoned five or more units, and have an area of over 1000 square feet! You have unlocked Dungeon Level 2! Spend 50 MP to level up!

Oh, you dick.

Seriously!

Could you have possibly told me that I would have to fucking pay to level up? Y'know, before I spent 80 damn MP on the most expensive units available? I could have spent 15 MP and gotten enough rats, for Gaia's sake.

Wait. Gaia's sake?

Who is Gaia, and why am I swearing by/at her?

Anyway…

Why do I even want to level anyway?

"Help" said:
Increasing your dungeon level increases the efficiency at which you process Mana, increasing your total MP cap and base MP regeneration. It also unlocks additional abilities at certain levels, such as the ability to summon higher tier units, modify existing walls and features within your dungeon, apply dungeon themes, or create specialized rooms.

I sigh, long and hard. Not satisfying, with my forced silence. Dipping my consciousness into a Zombie, I let out a long frustrated groan, which echoed throughout my walls. Very nice. Zombies are good groaners.

I guess I could possibly level once. Once I have enough MP. In two hours.

Ugh.

Another groan, I think. It's actually quite satisfying.

Outside Cell Block A, Zeke Parsons, Professional Mercenary, and temporary door guard, scratches his head as he glances at the large, locked double door. Admittedly, it's a fairly cushy guard post, complete with desk, chair, computer with live camera feeds, and a nice solitaire program, but it's still at the bottom of the totem pole. Still, the cameras going black could possibly be ignored as a technical glitch. That's why he ignored it, after all. The groan like something dying, echoing out of the cell block? Not so easy to ignore. Zeke's finger hovered over the intercom switch for a moment, before he made up his mind and pushed the button. "Captain, this is Zeke, reporting that there was a noise in the Cell Block. A long groan."

There was silence for a long moment, broken only by another groan coming from the cell. Zeke gritted his teeth. "And the cameras glitched out an hour ago."

The sound of angry shouting coming over the intercom made Zeke wince. Yeah, his pay was getting cut for this.

AN: Here's the thing: I am terrible at strategy games. I don't think things through, I make impulse buys, and generally speaking, I like to play on easy mode, with cheat codes, cause otherwise, I get bored or frustrated. I figure that SI me would have the same issues.

Automatonation · Jul 29, 2018

Guess what, boys and girls?

Coil is hiring mercenaries!

Just fill out our simple application form!

Name:
Age:
Gender:
Physical description:
Background:
Military/combat experience:
Vice:

Keep it simple, no more than a paragraph or two. I'm looking for former soldiers, PRT vets, former cops, gang members, whatever you think would work as a snakey supervillian's hired mercenary.

Automatonation · Aug 1, 2018

Grooooaaaan GROAAN groAaN Grooooaaaan.

You know, it's actually quite remarkable how well preserved these zombie's voice boxes are. I can control the pitch and tone quite well, and my female zombie can hit some lovely high notes. So maybe I've turned my four ambush units into a Zombishop Quartet. I don't know any actual music, I think, but a lot of the basic principles are still there, and spending half an MP on four flat straw hat was worth it. So mow my zombies are arm in arm, groaning in harmony, and I am finally not bored.

I don't deal with boredom well.

At all.

Groan GROAN groan-groan GROOOOAAAAN.

Ok, so I'm really quite bored.

+6.3 MP

YES.

I stop making the zombies sing, and they almost seem disappointed, shuffling around aimlessly, dragging their thin hooked canes listlessly.

Boredom. Don't judge me.

Anyway, I finally have a little over 50 MP, and I can finally level up! Bam! Level 2, please!

Congratulations!
You have leveled up!

You have unlocked:
Edit Existing Rooms
Exterior Senses

Ok, that's not too bad. Let's see my status.

Status:
Level: 2
Core HP: 4000
Max HP: 4000
Total area: 1120 Square Feet
Current MP: 0.4
Max MP: 224
MP Regeneration: 18.7 MP/Hr
Upkeep: 3 MP/Hr
Total MP Regeneration: 15.7 MP/Hr

OOOOOHHH yeah. My MP cap and regeneration just doubled. That's very nice. Now, does it double every time, or is there something different going on under the hood… What are the requirements for level 3?

Requirements for Level 3:
You must control at least 10 Units, have at least 2000 square feet in total area, and pay 100 MP

Got it. Not something to worry too much about right now, and I want to regenerate some Mana, so I am going to make some changes to my layout. Eventually…

After I no longer have 0.4 MP, I guess.

Zombieshop quartet, time for an encore! I could swear that they perked up at that.

In the guard station outside the cell block, Zeke glanced at Paula, the second guard that their captain had assigned to guard the door after whatever was actually in there started making noises. "They're singing again."

"M'hm." Paula replied, turning a page in her gun magazine. The female mercenary was short, olive-skinned, and kept her black hair buzzed in a military buzz cut. Zeke thought she was kinda cute, but her cold personality was a bit of a turnoff, as were the rumors of her putting guys who wanted to get friendly in the hospital. A semi-automatic shotgun leaned against the desk beside her. "Getting better."

The groaning voices reached a complicated triple harmony, weaving in and out of each other in an aria of loneliness and sorrow. "Yeah." Zeke scratched his head. He was feeling a little odd, actually. He was getting close to the end of his shift, and normally he would be bored and bone tired by now, but he actually felt…. Well, really damn good. Energetic, like he had just had a good breakfast with two cups of coffee. "Are you feeling any different?"

Paula looked up, sharp eyes narrowing at her colleague. "Different how?" She dropped the magazine onto the table. "Impaired?"

"Nah, I feel great, actually. Like I could run a marathon."

Paula frowned. "Surge?"

"No, I don't do that shit," Zeke growled.

"We need to go to medical?"

Zeke snorted. "I'm fine, just feeling better at the end of a shift than I normally do."

Paula looked hard at the door. "Think it's the cape?" She mused thoughtfully.

"Like an energizing aura?" Zeke asked. "He's all the way down in A8, at least 50 feet away from us or more."

"That wasn't no. Makes him valuable. Boss will want to know." Paula pointed out.

Zeke grimaced. Coil gave him the creeps. Part of it was the grown man walking around in spandex, but most of that was how he seemed to look at his employees like they were money he could spend to buy power. Or something like that. The way he acted around that cape girl, Tattler or something, was unnerving as well. Zeke had a little sister, and it was hard not to imagine her in a mask with a gun to the back of her head, just like some of his coworkers had described picking up that girl. "I guess."

Paula's eyes softened slightly. "We'll give it a bit. I don't feel anything different."

"You've only been here for a couple of hours, now."

"True."

More groaning music, the sorrowful aria transitioning into a triumphant martial chant.

"Did you see him?"

"The cape?" Paula asked.

"Yeah."

"No. Just heard he's a statue, or something."

"Yeah. Boss had me go in with him. I held the door open. He's like this kneeling stone statue thing, but instead of a head, he's just got a green orb. Kinda spooky." He looked helpless, is what Zeke didn't say. "Coil had Richards shoot him with the laser attachment on his rifle, blew one of Statue Guy's hands into dust. Damn thing didn't even move."

"Is it really a cape?"

"Coil seems to think so…" Zeke trailed off. Say what you will about the creepy bastard, he was sharp.

Paula snorted. "'Course he does."

The sound of multiple sets of boots echoing down one of the metal staircases, an ever-present background noise in the cavernous main shaft of Coil's base, started getting closer, and Zeke and Paula straightened up as four well-armed mercenaries climbed up into view. The groaning music stopped in mid-note. Zeke tensed until he recognized the squad, and relaxed. Strike Team Theta. Coil's hired mercs tended to be either unrepentant assholes, monsters, or ex-military and cops with nowhere else to turn. Theta was one of the more tolerable squads, despite their leader.

"Well, you girls about ready to get off your asses and let the real mercs take a look at the land?" The leader asked. Brad Winston, a long-time soldier, mercenary, and professional asshole.

"Winston, you're going in there?" Zeke asked.

"Boss's orders. Something about groaning noises and loss of the camera feed." Winston's tanned face was covered in burn scars, and one of his eyes was a milky white, but despite the injuries that forced his retirement from the conventional armed forces, he was still a crack shot and a good fighter. "Something that should have been reported sooner."

Zeke shrugged. "Thought the cameras were a glitch. And I reported the groaning as soon as it started."

Winston snorted, before resettling the strap of his rifle across his shoulders. Turning, he glanced at his subordinates in Strike Team Theta. "Doe, you're on point, have the shotgun ready, Dunderson and Stevens, you've got the foamers, you're on the wings, I'll cover the rear." the mercenaries shifted into position with the ease of long practice, Cory Dunderson, a dark-skinned woman with tired eyes, on the left, and Brett Stevens, a grim man with a military buzz cut and a faded marine tattoo on his right forearm, on the right. They hefted the heavy PRT Surplus containment foam sprayers strapped to their backs.

To be honest, Zeke liked both of them. Cory had a wicked sense of humor when she wasn't half-passed out from insomnia, and while Brett was a grim, taciturn person by nature, he wasn't one to tolerate bullshit from anyone, regardless of their rap sheets. John Smith, who usually went by 'Doe' because of his rather generic name, was the quiet sort, so although he preferred to stay out of conflicts within the organization, at least he wasn't the kind to look for trouble. And, all in all, despite Winston being an asshole, he was a professional, and not one to jerk around on the job.

"Anything we ought to know?" Doe asked softly.

"At least four different voices," Paula stated. "No articulation or words, but relatively good pitch control and coordination, improving markedly over time." She glanced at Zeke. "Likely a minion-type master."

"Gut says it's something humanoid, too," Zeke added. "When it first started, I could have sworn it was a sound effect from Dawn of the Dead."

"Are you telling me," Winston asked incredulously, "That you've actually got singing zombies in Cell Block A?" Cory snorted, but Doe started flicking through his ammo pouches, unloading his shotgun and reloading it with a different type of ammo, shells with a stylized flame etched on bright red cases.

Zeke shrugged. "Just a guess. The cameras are down, so we honestly can't tell."

"Hmm." Winston glared at the door as if he could see through it through sheer force of will. "We'll see."

ALERT!

Enemies approach your Dungeon!

Prepare yourself!

Shit! I cut off my musical zombies mid-groan, and hurry them into position, the sole female still wearing her hat at a jaunty angle and clutching her cane. I still had… 17:46 until my next chunk of Mana comes in, so I'm going to have to live with what I've got. I wait, in the dark, my viewpoint hovering in the middle of the entrance hall. And wait. And wait. I'm losing my mind. Nothing is happening!

I'm about to have my zombies start humming again when the large metal door starts sliding open, a lance of white light spearing into the dark hallway. I'm glad that I put my turrets on either side of the door so that they are somewhat concealed from view. A squad of four mercenaries moves in, flashlights attached to the barrels of their weapons darting around the room. I hold the turrets still, don't want to spoil the surprise, after all. The mercenaries are moving in a rough diamond formation, the man in the lead carrying a shotgun, the two on the sides armed with large back-mounted tanks, connected to wide nozzles. What are those? I recognize the automatic rifle held by the scarred man in the back, but the big weapons? Are those flamethrowers?

Maybe it's luck, maybe it's sloppiness, but the sweeping flashlights just miss my turrets, and the mercs move further inside, past the cells where my zombies are hiding, towards the one with my core. I wish I could close the main doors. That would be so much nicer. For me, at least.

"This is spooky as hell, Win." one of the mercenaries, a tall, dark-skinned woman whispers.

"Can it, Dunderson." The scarred man in the back replies. "We're here to check on the cape. Clear A8 first, then work our way back to the entrance." As he speaks, they come beside the second row of cells, panning their lights over the closed door. The cape? Is that me? I don't have a cape. Maybe I could make capes for my zombies, once they leave. Or I kill them. I don't know which, right now.

It's weird, but having these mercs in here is… Fulfilling. Like having a sip of water. I check my MP. It's gone up by .2 MP. Huh. Just having people inside my walls gives me Mana. Still. They're armed, they're hostile, and they coming for my core. I make my decision. The doors to the two cells holding my zombie hordes slammed open with a loud clang, and my zombies lunged out, groaning loudly - in harmony, for some reason. The mercenaries spin around, startled by the noise, and in that split second, I open fire with my turrets. A quartet of bullets take the scarred squad leader in the chest, and he drops like a rock with a scream that drops into a soft gurgle. A surge of Mana pours into my reserves like sweet wine.

"Win!" yelps the lady merc, and both her and the man with the flamethrowers go to one knee in a guarding position, just ahead of his body. They fire their weapons, sweeping them back and forth, and, rather than the gouts of flame I was expecting, out came a torrent of yellowish foam that rapidly expanded into a heaping pile of sticky mess, hopelessly entangling a pair of zombies. I growl, and direct the fire from my turrets at the two foam-throwers. Unfortunately, the foam blocked or absorbed the shots from my turrets, and before I could redirect my aim, the shotgun-wielding merc moved to the side, around the piles of hardening foam, and started shooting at the two untrapped zombies, each loud report sending a gout of flame and burning magnesium that rapidly slaughtered the pair of undead. I growled, and with a twitch of thought, his head exploded from the concentrated attention of my turrets. Mana flows into me from his death, and I grin internally, licking my lips.

"Oh shit oh shit oh shit." The remaining mercenary kept muttering to himself as he peered around the foam barricade at the turrets. "Where the fuck did the turrets come from, Cory? Are those ours?"

"No shit they're not ours, Brett!" Growled his companion. "They took out Winston and Doe, somehow this cape put them here."

"Tinker?" Brett fumbled at his belt for something. I swept my viewpoint around, but his hand is in the way.

"Zombies and gun turrets?" Dunderson asked rhetorically. "Some kind of weird summoner, I guess. 'Nades on three?"

"I've got the one on the right." Brett replied. "One, two, three!" They tossed the grenades, much to my horror, and the explosion mangled my twin turrets. I grit my non-existent teeth - and then grin. I have three zombies left. Dunderson is crouched, her leg right by her deceased captain's head. I grab control of the fresh zombie, created by the zombie plague ability of my poor quartet-turned-duet, and sink his teeth deep into the meat of her calf.

Dunderson screams, high and shrill, and I pull the corpse's long knife from its holster and stab it deeply into her side and twist, hints of fading muscle memory guiding the edge. She gasps and gurgles, and Brett bolts, darting out the open doors. I see a pair of horrified faces in the light, before the doors to my entrance close, leaving the last mercenary to bleed out in the dark. Her death…. Is sweet.

Congratulations! You have killed the last enemy in your dungeon! Calculating rewards!
.
..
…

The bodies of the mercenaries, as well as the weapons and the odd foam dissolve into blue-green sparks, and flow in a river to my core. I breathe in, deep and hard, savoring the mix of mana and… knowledge? Yes, knowledge, I can make these things, now. Grenades, Dragonfire shotgun shells, containment foam, and so much more.

Total gains:
162 MP from enemy deaths
5 MP from enemy drops
Multiple items added to Loot Library
Elite Unit: Zombie Commando - 0 MP cost, .5 MP/Hr upkeep

Achievement unlocked:
First Blood - kill an enemy in defense of your dungeon - Loot generation unlocked.
Unholy Devices - For killing with both Machine and Undead units in the same encounter, you have unlocked the Unholy Devices fusion tree, allowing you to summon powerful Undead units with mechanical enhancements.

I take a few deep breaths, metaphorically speaking. That went… Well, it could have gone worse. I wish I hadn't let the last one escape. Now they know what I can do.

Wait.

No, they know two things that I can do. They know I have gun turrets, and they know that I have zombies. There's so much more I can do. My evil grin is echoed on three dead faces, swiftly becoming five as the two remaining mercenaries rise as my units, as I turn to my MP. Oh, sweet 167.6 Mana, there is so much for you to do~~

New Available Units.

Skeleton Warrior
MP Cost: 20
Upkeep Cost: 1 MP/Hour

An animated skeleton wearing a rusty iron breastplate, helmet, and greaves, armed with a random iron medieval weapon. Capable of basic tactics and teamwork. When raised from a humanoid corpse, has that corpse's equipment and Melee weapons instead.

Skeleton Archer
MP Cost: 15
Upkeep Cost: 1 MP/Hour

An Animated Skeleton wearing a leather tunic, wielding a bow and arrow. Has moderate accuracy, and is capable of basic tactics and teamwork. When raised from a humanoid corpse, has that corpse's clothes and ranged weapons instead.

Vigorous Zombie
MP Cost: 15
Upkeep Cost: 1 MP/Hour

This zombie is startlingly strong and fast, about the equivalent of an olympic-level athlete.

To unlock, have at least three Tier 2 Units from this tree

Skeleton Mage
MP Cost: 30
Upkeep Cost: 1 MP/Hour

A skeleton wearing tattered black robes and wielding a magic staff that allows it to fire baseball sized bolts of death energy that direct damage to enemies and ignore armor.

Ghoul
MP Cost: 40
Upkeep Cost: 1 MP/Hour

A vicious zombie with bone talons, poisoned fangs, and superhuman strength and speed.

Banshee
MP Cost: 25
Upkeep Cost: 2 MP/Hour

The spirit of a spurned woman, the Banshee's shriek causes fear and reduces armor and damage resistance. The Banshee can only be harmed by magic, fire, or energy weapons.

Foul Corpse
MP Cost: 25
Upkeep Cost: 1 MP/Hour

This rotten, stinking corpse gradually damages enemies nearby, but is otherwise immobile and cannot attack. The effects of Zombie Plague will not cause enemy units to become Foul Corpses.

To unlock, have at least three Tier 3 Units from this tree

Lich Lord
MP Cost: 100
Upkeep Cost: 3 MP/Hour

A skeletal mage who has locked his soul in a hidden Phylactery, the Lich lord cannot be destroyed until it is located and destroyed. Reduces cost of Tier 1 Undead to 0 and Tier 2 Undead by 50%

Devourer
MP Cost: 75
Upkeep Cost: 5 MP/Hour

A hulking abomination made of dead flesh stitched together, the Devourer heals itself by consuming its foes.

Armored Turret
MP Cost: 20
Upkeep Cost: 0.5 MP/Hour

A stationary automatic gun turret with rudimentary IFF and auto-targeting. Has a heavy armored plate on the front, with a firing slit for the barrel. Still vulnerable to damage from the side or rear.

Buzzsaw Drone
MP Cost: 15
Upkeep Cost: 1 MP/Hour

A flying quadcopter with a spinning circular saw blade mounted on the outside. While relatively fragile, this agile drone is a nasty melee opponent, and a simple network lets it coordinate with other Buzzsaw drones to avoid crashes and coordinate attacks.

Basic Robot
MP Cost: 30
Upkeep Cost: 2 MP/Hour

A bipedal humanoid robot with rudimentary combat software.

To unlock, have at least three Tier 2 Units from this tree

Laser Turret
MP Cost: 30
Upkeep Cost: 0.5 MP/Hour

A stationary turret with a powerful laser beam and simple IFF and aiming software. The vast majority of the Turret is covered with an armored dome, with only the barrel of the laser weapon exposed.

Miniature Tank
MP Cost: 50
Upkeep Cost: 1 MP/Hour

A heavily armored miniature tank, about 2 feet high and 4 feet long. Has two independent turrets, the smaller with a minigun, the larger with an anti-material rifle and napalm grenade launcher.

Laser Drone
MP Cost: 25
Upkeep Cost: 0.5 MP/Hour

A basic antigrav drive with two rotating fans for maneuvering, this agile drone is armed with a weak laser pulse weapon. Optimized for swarming tactics, this drone networks with other drones to dramatically increase their total intelligence.

Combat Android
MP Cost: 75
Upkeep Cost: 3 MP/Hour

An advanced android resembling a human in combat armor, armed with a pulse laser rifle and a combat knife. Capable of performing as well as or surpassing human special forces, with a sophisticated VI capable of learning and improvising.

To unlock, have at least three Tier 3 Units from this tree

War Mech
MP Cost: 150
Upkeep Cost: 5 MP/Hour

An 8 foot tall armored bipedal war mech with integrated heavy pulse laser gun, missile launcher, minigun, and heavy rifle. Extremely durable. Includes sophisticated VI with simulated personality.

Mass Driver Turret
MP Cost: 50
Upkeep Cost: 1 MP/Hour

A larger turret that can only be mounted on the floor, but can be installed in recessed panels or pits to be deployed. Armed with a pair of large-caliber rail guns that blow through nearly any level of armor. Armored with heavy composite plates, and extremely difficult to kill.

Skelecopter
MP Cost: 10
Upkeep Cost: 0.5 MP/Hour

This quadcopter drone has an animated human skull in the middle, with a single arm hanging underneath, allowing it to manipulate objects. this Unit can explore outside of your Dungeon, and allows you to see through its eyesockets.

Skeleton Soldier
MP Cost: 20
Upkeep Cost: 1 MP/Hour

A skeleton dressed in ragged, but effective, modern body armor, wielding a rusted AK47 variant with an underslung bayonet.

Cyberzombie
MP Cost: 20
Upkeep Cost: 1 MP/Hour

A zombie enhanced with rusted, corrupted cybernetic components. Extremely slow, but strong, and resistant to damage.

To unlock, have at least three Tier 2 Units from this tree, or three Tier 2 units each from both Machine and Undead Trees

Necroblaster
MP Cost: 30
Upkeep Cost: 0.5 MP/Hour

A Turret containing the skull of a Skeleton Mage, allowing it to fire a bolt of Necromantic energy that ignores armor to damage living flesh.

Frankenborg
MP Cost: 50
Upkeep Cost: 1 MP/Hour

An abomination of science, made of mechanical components and undead flesh, this zombie can reassemble itself if torn apart or damaged, and has heavy armor to prevent critical damage to the torso or brain.

To unlock, have at least three Tier 3 Units from this tree, or three Tier 3 units each from both Machine and Undead Trees

Necromech
MP Cost: 200
Upkeep Cost: 5 MP/Hour

The soul of a Lich Lord, uploaded into an enchanted mech, heavily infused with undead flesh and bone. Reassembles missing components and regenerates damage, but any extreme amounts of damage may need tap into your MP reserves to regenerate.

Oh, fuck the hell yes.

With a shaky hand, Zeke presses the intercom button. "Captain Keel? You better come down here." He glances at Brett, sitting curled in the fetal position by the wall, pale and shaken. "We have a problem."

AN: Yes, I know I killed some of the nicer mercs that were submitted. Let me know what you thought of the combat.

Also, to simplify crossposting, I'm just going to do nested spoilers rather than the accordion I have on here, since SB doesn't have that feature.

Automatonation · Aug 1, 2018

Ok, I am adding the following unit to the Unholy Devices Unit Tree.

Skelecopter
MP Cost: 10
Upkeep Cost: 0.5 MP/Hour

This quadcopter drone has an animated human skull in the middle, with a single arm hanging underneath, allowing it to manipulate objects. this Unit can explore outside of your Dungeon, and allows you to see through its eyesockets.

This will be retconned into the latest chapter shortly.

Automatonation · Aug 8, 2018

Coil sat behind his desk, fingers steepled in front of him, and stared at his mercenary captain, ruthlessly suppressing his urge to strangle the man. While normally, he would have just thrown a spare timeline at that urge, there were a couple of reasons not to at the moment. For one thing, while Coil was a veteran PRT trooper, he had been out of action for several years now, and he had little confidence in his ability to incapacitate his mercenary captain without experiencing quite a lot of pain. That wouldn't help his stress levels at the moment. The other reason…. Well, for the first time, Coil was unsure of the accuracy of his power. The past few hours had been…. Frustrating.

Coil had never truly regretted purchasing his power from the elusive group known as Cauldron, at least, not until he found the note, written on expensive paper in elegant calligraphy, lying on his desk in the locked office of his secret lair, barred from access from the outside world by at least seventeen layers of security, five of which only Coil himself could access.

Mr. Calvert,

We have provided you a new asset, located in Cell Block A, Cell 8. Consider this to be a balancing of our accounts.

-c

Considering that, so far as he knew, Coil had still owed Cauldron a favor, the fact that he was given an asset and told that they were even was not a good sign.

"Sir?"

Coil blinked. Captain Martin Keel was still standing in front of him, hands clasped behind his back. Short, with a wiry, whipcord build and a face that still appeared boyish despite his silver hair, Martin Keel was a disarmingly friendly figure. At least, until you met his eyes. Pale blue, but flat, analyzing, and impersonal. The eyes of a man who could discard anything, anyone, if it suited him. Coil knew those eyes. He saw them in the mirror every day. And so, he trusted Keel, as far as he trusted anyone. As long as Coil paid the man well, and allowed Keel his… little vices... he had his loyalty and the use of his vast skills. Still, he was frustrated at the moment.

"Mr. Keel, you have lost me the service of three well-trained, experienced mercenaries." Coil stated cooly. "And what have you gained for me, in exchange?"

Keel snorted. "A little intelligence. From what I was able to coax out of the survivor, your newest asset managed to create at least four humanoid creatures that he could only describe as zombies and a pair of gun turrets out of thin air, as well as cut off the camera feed for the entire cell block, without apparently moving out of place. Not that he actually managed to confirm that your new pet rock was still in his cell, they didn't get that far before being ambushed."

"And why did you send them in without alerting me beforehand?" Coil winced. The mild headache that had been building since he first saw that blasted statue throbbed.

"The men were getting restless. They kept hearing groaning and unusual noises from the cell block, and some were getting…. Antsy." Keel smirked. "Not that I can blame them, of course. It's not every day that you hear music quite like what your new toy was making for us." At Coil's deadpan stare, he continued. "The damn thing likes to make its zombies sing. It's gotten quite good. In any case, I sent Theta squad, as the group least prone to… Excess. I deemed them the best to gather more information, without getting carried away and costing you an asset."

"Regardless of the musical skill of my newest asset, I still expect to be notified before you take any action you deem to be a risk." Coil growled, before shrugging. "Ultimately, it was not an equal transaction."

"Respectfully, we do know more about the cape than we did before, and we can now take more appropriate precautions." The mercenary shifted his weight side to side. "We know that he controls minions with at least two different themes, that of mechanical turrets and humanoid zombies. He prefers to draw in opponents before trying to ambush them. Doe mentioned that the zombies were hidden in cells A1 and A2, which were locked beforehand, so he has some form of influence over his surroundings since we have the key-cards for those locks." He paused a moment. "And considering that neither the turrets nor any corpses that could have been raised as zombies were previously present, we know that he can create them out of nothing."

Coil nodded slowly. "Your recommendations, Captain?"

Keel grimaced. "I'm torn. On the one hand, the cape could be a massive asset, if we could convince him to work with us, rather than kill our men. On the other…. He did this in six hours, and killed three skilled mercenaries, traumatizing a fourth, and we have no idea of what his limits actually are." He paused, in thought. "If he can actually take over the entire base..."

Coil split the timeline briefly to express his rage at the thought of losing HIS base, pulling his sidearm and unloading it at the wall before throwing over his desk. In the other, he inhaled deeply, before issuing his orders. "Mr. Keel, pull together an assault team. At least twelve members, full gear, a mix of military and PRT standard at your discretion. Hold them ready to move in, if I deem it necessary."

"Yes, sir!" Keel snapped off a crisp salute. It wasn't truly necessary, but Keel knew that his employer liked the little shows of respect. "Should I pull from the teams observing the Alcott girl?"

"No. Leave them in place, I will not change any of my other plans. You are dismissed, Captain." Keel nodded, and left the office, leaving Coil alone. In one timeline, the supervillain fished out an expensive bottle of brandy that he usually saved for celebrations, and started drinking directly from the bottle. In the other, he sat at his desk, fingers steepled, immobile as the statue currently trapped in his prison.

That was the unnerving thing. When he had initially introduced himself, he had split the timeline, saying referring to himself as the new cape's employer in one, and as his master in the other. As soon as the word master left his lips, however, he had felt a surge of energy, followed by a rapid draining sensation and a cold feeling as his heart stopped beating. The sudden close to the timeline was so unnerving and unexpected, that Coil was harsher than he intended to his newest asset. Which may have been rather unfortunate, in the long run.

Information, that was the issue. You cannot control people without information, without knowing what strings to pull, what carrots to dangle in front of them. And he had no information on what that damned statue actually wanted. Defaulting to the threat of physical harm was… clumsy, but ultimately necessary in this case. Unfortunately, now that an action that could have been perceived as a show of force had been defeated, much stronger actions must be taken. After all, misbehavior should be punished. But for now? Information.

Coil picked up the phone and dialed a number by heart. One ring.

"Yo, Boss." The teenage girl' voice was chipper but concealed a nervous thread that Coil rather enjoyed.

"Tattletale. I require your presence."

"I was about to meet with that bug girl, the one I told you about?"

Coil gritted his teeth. "This is more urgent. Put her off."

"Boss, I guarantee you that she'll take us blowing her off as a denial, and join the Wards eventually, if she doesn't get killed first." There was something else motivating the girl, here. Ah, something about a guilt complex from what he recalled of a discarded interrogation timeline. No matter. "She'll be a major force multiplier if I get her on board."

"Give her an excuse she'll take." Coil let a hint of his frustration into his voice, and smiled coldly, knowing that his Tattletale would be able to read the consequences of her actions.

The girl sighed. "Gotcha boss. I'll be in as soon as possible."

Coil ended the call before she could hang up on him. The possibility of a future cape, versus the threat of his own base collapsing from within? No gamble at all, no point in using his power. He NEEDED information, and Lisa would get that information for him. One way or another.

OK. How much time until my Mana regeneration kicks in?

7:46

Not much time. But enough to get started. First of all, let's try something. Exterior Senses.

I felt a rushing sensation, and I was pulled outside myself, floating in the void. I could see all of me, the assimilated rooms of Cell Block A that made up my current walls, set into the solid bedrock around me that I had barely sensed before. Hmm. Let's get oriented. Some instinct told me that my entrance was to the north, and that made my core, nestled in Cell A8, the one furthest from the entrance, to the south-east. My senses only truly extended about fifty to sixty feet around my walls, and about ten to fifteen above and below me. To the east, nothing, just solid rock as far as I could see, but to the west… Another cell block, glimmering faintly in this new vision, an easy target for assimilation, only ten feet away through solid stone, just a tunnel away. To the south, just solid stone, free space to expand. My true concern was the massive chamber to the north, which was grey and undefined, a room full of enemies, that I could not enter or make my own until I had claimed every soul within. I could sense the outline near me, though, going deeper into the earth to the extents of my vision, far beyond the other cell block to the west, and cutting off in a corner to the north, about fifteen feet from my entrance.

I spend a single MP on a two foot wide tunnel from Cell A1 to the opposite cell, which I presumed to be B2, and watched, fascinated, as stone and earth melted into blue motes of Mana, before reforming into concrete and cinder blocks, identical to the rest of my walls, complete with a pair of metal doors, one on each end, a total of ten feet in length. I couldn't quite make the doors match the walls, like the tentative plans I had made while waiting for my mana to regenerate, but they still had a covering of concrete and paint in the right pattern and swung inward from either cell, making them difficult to notice in the dark. As soon as the tunnel completed and solidified as mine, I flooded my mana into Cell Block B, rapidly assimilating the whole nine-room complex. There wasn't enough time to complete assimilating the rooms before my regeneration ticked over, but in the end, I had doubled my floor space, at the cost of only 29 MP, while regenerating 19. I check my current MP. 154.6, out of a total possible 452, with current total regeneration of 34.7 MP/hour. Better yet, I had enough total floor space and MP to be able to upgrade to Dungeon Level Three.

All I need now is three more units. While it's tempting to get more turrets or Zombies, or even dip into my new Tier 2 units, but I need to save my MP right now. Instead, I turn to a different tree - the Slimes. Having a few cheap, adaptable units would be perfect right now. I quickly summoned three Lesser Slimes in the hidden tunnel, only a total of 9 MP, and watched the beach-ball sized blobs of clear bluish slime shimmer into existence. The slimes started rolling and sliding back and forth, bumping into each other and leaving trails of clear fluid that visibly etched my concrete floors. Already, I can see hints of grey flecking the blue fluid of one of the slimes.

Dungeon Level Three available!

Level up?

Yeah, naturally.

Congratulations!

You have leveled up!

Traps unlocked!

I feel a surge of Mana flow through me, and I feel more… Expansive, somehow. Status.

Status
Level: 3
Core HP: 6000
Max HP: 6000
Total Area: 2260
Current MP: 45.6
Max MP: 678
MP Regeneration: 56.5 MP/Hour
Upkeep: 4.5 MP/Hour
Total MP Regeneration: 52 MP/Hour

Wow. Ok, so I need to figure things out. Time for some math.

Many Maths Later….

Ugh, I have a core-ache. Maybe I should have waited to do this until I had a nice even area, but now I know how my rules work. Everything is based on my Dungeon Level. My Core HP? 2000 HP for each level. My Max MP? Oh, that's just my floor area times my dungeon level, divided by ten. My MP regeneration? That's one-twelfth of my max MP, so once again, dependent on my Dungeon Level. I suppose later, that's going to be some diminishing returns, especially as the cost to level up increases, once again based on my current Dungeon level, but right now, each level is well worth it in MP regeneration alone.

So. Now what?

I need to hide. Coil knows where I am. I need to dig, expand, and move my core to a less vulnerable position. I have one of my zombies crack his knuckles, and start chanting a rhythmic digging song, my slimes bubbling along. Time to work.

AN: Done sitting on this one.

Automatonation · Sep 12, 2018

Tattletale sat near the door to the cell block where Coil had stored his little problem, flipping through PHO on her smartphone and trying not to tap her feet to the catchy beat of the zombies groaning within. It wouldn't do to antagonize the pair of mercenaries manning machine guns behind sandbag barricades. The man who had just gotten back on shift was fuming with frustration already, and he had only been back for a few minutes. Dead mercenaries were friendly with him, feels bad for empathizing with the prisoner, feels guilty for enjoying music. Well, that would do it. Lisa shifted in her seat, suppressing a grimace. She had been sitting here for six fucking hours, and her cute little butt wasn't meant for a hard folding chair like this.

It was typical of Coil, really. Call her in, making her drop everything, just to sit and do nothing. Their shot at recruiting the lonely bug girl was done. Gone, like a fly out the window of opportunity. Lisa snickered and enjoyed spotting a mercenary twitch. Still, it didn't make a tremendous amount of sense to expect even a Thinker of her prowess to gather information staring at a closed door. There was some good information, true. She suspected that whatever was controlling those singing zombies enjoyed music, but couldn't actually remember any, because the groaning, while technically skilled, didn't quite match any song that she had ever heard. So, that, according to her power, meant amnesia. And THAT, combined with the prisoner being a stone statue, according to the one paragraph dossier given by her boss, meant a Case 53. Which had all kinds of interesting connotations that she had only let her power run away with once, before shutting down to avoid another debilitating migraine. The realization that her boss had ties to someone performing experiments on people with powers…. Well, the saying is that Knowledge is Power, and Tattletale was a firm believer that power that no one knows you have is the best of all. She tucked that little tidbit away for later and tried not to worry about it more.

Still, the hints of a headache had faded a little quicker than normal, and she was feeling better than she would have expected for sitting in place for hours. Her power refused to comment, which was telling, in and of itself. Tattletale stiffened slightly as she heard footsteps behind her. "Tattletale. Ready to move in?" A bored voice asked her. Lisa turned to spot Jake Draven, a slender, dark-haired man in black combat gear. He was… well, pretty, like a grown-up version of Alec, and any other girl her age would have been all over him.

Lisa smirked. "What took you so long?". She let her eyes flit over the other three members of Jake's Delta squad. A stocky middle-eastern woman with a nasty look in her eye, one hand in her pocket, the other cradling a containment foam nozzle. The hefty backpack was covered in pouches, all filled with grenades of some kind - incendiary, both napalm and thermite. Ah, lovely. That was Issani Iladris, wanted for at least two counts of suspected arson. And the burly bald man in the back, who was nearly seven feet tall and easily four hundred pounds of grotesque muscle, was The Russian, officially considered a Brute 1 by the PRT, despite not actually being a parahuman, due to his abuse of Tinkertech steroids. Nicholai, she thought, but that likely wasn't his birth name. The mountain of a man hefted a rotary minigun of all things, something she thought wouldn't have actually existed outside some of Alec's games. A Brute, but… rather dim. The fourth member of the squad was a stocky, overweight, balding man who seemed to ooze slime. Ted Johnson was fucking leering at her again. The bastard. A nasty, devious mind, with a broad vicious streak and not much in the way of morals, Ted was one of the worst of Coil's goons. Not the worst, by far, unfortunately, but one to avoid. He hefted a shotgun with the ease of long use.

"The boss wants you to wear this." Jake droned. Dislikes Coil, wants to quit. Well, don't we all? Lisa took the proffered skin-tone patch, big enough to conceal a small transponder and microphone. Also includes a heartbeat sensor, to indicate termination of the wearer. How useful.

"Thank you, Jake," Tattletale replied flippantly. "Nice to know he cares." Jake didn't quite flinch, but Tattletale let her smirk grow wider, and inclined her head slightly. Yeah, I don't want to be here, either. "We going in? Been getting bored out here."

"Well, wouldn't want that, would we?". Jake turned to his squad. "This is exploratory only, protecting the asset while we try to gain information. Eyes and ears open, be ready to evac. Nic, I tell you, you grab her and run."

The Russian nods. "Da. Pick up girl and run." God, he had to be trying hard to be that stereotypical.

"Ted, Issani, if you shoot first, I'm shooting you dead right there." Jake leveled a gimlet stare at Ted. "Remember Fred?"

The pair of mercs reluctantly nodded. It was something that Tattletale had noticed, that the squads seemed to be composed of monsters and bastards, but led by someone that could keep them in line. She idly applied the sticky patch to her neck, right over her jugular, all the better to get her pulse.

Jake turned to Lisa, his eyes cold. "Tattletale, you're in the middle of the formation. You figure out anything important, or if you decide it's time to bug out, let us know right then." Has secondary orders to terminate you if you attempt to betray or defect, her power interjected. Betrayal expected. Not looking forward to killing an underage girl. Will do so anyway.

With the ease of long practice, Lisa kept the nerves under control. Was she expected to defect? Defect to what? In the middle of Coil's lair? "Got it, you're the Boss." She chirped. "Got a weapon for me?"

"You're Thinker support, not a combatant. You don't need a gun." Jake drawled, his eyes not quite meeting hers. Yep, expecting betrayal.

The macabre chorus of zombie groans reached a crescendo, and then faded out. With a shrug, the mercenary captain beckoned his troops forward, and Lisa reluctantly followed him. At least Ted was being professional enough to avoid staring at her ass. Why did she decide to make her costume tight spandex, rather than comfortable sweatpants?

ALERT!

Enemies approach your Dungeon!

Prepare yourself!

Well, that was fortuitous. Just when I have an empty MP pool, I get a chance to fill it again. How lovely. I shook myself. Don't get cocky, Dungeon-Man! Just because I am a fresh level five and have all these shiny new units and rooms is no reason to get over-confident. Still… If I had teeth, I would be baring them in a savage grin. Undead teeth gritted, slimes bubbled, and turrets whirred on their bases. I was ready. The heavy double doors of my entrance slid open, and light filled the dark room. I had intentionally left Cell Block A visually unchanged, just to throw off intruders, and I had better places to put the turrets that had originally flanked the doors. Before anyone stepped inside, one of the mercenaries, I couldn't tell who without any visibility outside my entrance, threw in a pair of clear plastic orbs, just a bit larger than fist-sized. As soon as they rolled to a stop, the pair of balls began shining brightly, illuminating the shadows that weren't already cleared by the light coming from outside the dungeon. Clever.

Five figures moved quickly into my walls, and I immediately start playing a mental game of 'which of these things is not like the other.' The four mercenaries - three men and a woman, but only one with a foam sprayer this time - surround a slender blonde girl wearing a tight purple and black garment that clung to her skin. A mask covers the upper part of her face, around her eyes, but leaves her head otherwise uncovered. What is she doing here? She's unarmed, is she important? She's wearing a tight bodysuit, similar to the one Coil was wearing, but in purple and black. Do people indicate their importance with the tightness of the clothes they wear? No, that's not right.

As I muse, the mercenaries swing around, carefully checking the illuminated corners for turrets, and move to one of my cells. Cell A-2, one of my new Mana Taps, which gives me an extra 25 MP every hour. The massive man carrying a rotary minigun squares up in front of the door, the girl in the tight costume peeking around him as the barrels start spinning. The slender mercenary kicks open the door, before diving out of the way.

"There's no one there, boss." The girl says with a smirk, which fades as she steps around the mountain of a mercenary in front of her. "It's empty, but…"

The slender male mercenary rubs his eyes. "Get to the point, Tattletale." A code name?

"That's just it, I can't quite tell. The sink is on, but the water is…. Blue? It does something, something important for the cape." Tattletale is examining the sink. I wish I could turn it off, but something about the process of turning a room into a Mana Tap results in the need for a constantly running fountain - which in this case turns out to be the sink - which produces a minor MP potion. I'm not sure what would happen to someone without any native MP if they were to drink it, but my interface indicated that it could be used to restore depleted mana in anything outside of my dungeon. The liquid is slightly thicker than water, translucent with a bluish tint, and glowing faintly. "It's meant to drink, but not by him or anything he makes…." She grimaces, one hand going to her forehead.

The mercenary glares at the fountain for a moment. "Issani, sample container." The female mercenary, presumably Issani, fishes a small test tube with a screw top out of a side pocket and hands it to him. He carefully collects a sample, without touching the glowing fluid. "Does it actually expect us to drink this glowing shit?" He asks. Well, I don't, personally, but yes, it's meant to be drunk.

Tattletale shakes her head. "It's not… intentionally poisonous? I don't think it's meant to hurt us." She blinks, as something seems to click, and then starts to giggle. "It…" snickering. "It's a fucking mana potion."

How. The FUCK. Did you know that? I mean, I did everything I could to make it less obvious. I had to manually absorb four hundred glass flasks before my damn system figured out that I didn't want people to just drink my fluids. And you work it out with just a little bit of thought? I groan, and my zombies groan with me, the sound echoing through the dungeon.

All five of the intruders stiffen, guns raising. "It's listening." Tattletale whispers. "No, watching. It sees all within its range." Fuck you, girlie. Ruining my fun.

"What's the range?" the mercenary leader growls, gesturing to the opposite door, cell A1. I tense, but don't let my units react. Cell A1 is where I have the hidden passageway to where I assimilated Cellblock B, and I can't afford to tip my hand there, I'm not quite ready. Oh, I have defenses, but right now, stealth is my primary shield. I just didn't anticipate some bloody girl who can apparently pull information out of fucking nowhere.

"This cell, at least." Tattletale replies flippantly. "Likely the whole block. Possibly more. The phrase 'Ruler of all it Surveys' comes to mind."

"Shit." The mercenaries make their way to Cell A1, and kick the door open, before looking inside. I didn't install a Mana Tap in this room, didn't want anything unusual to draw the eye. "Nothing here, right?" The captain asks, and Tattletale - and boy was that name appropriate now that I think about it - glanced around. I could swear that her eye pauses on the faint seam between the fake cinderblocks hiding the door and the wall, but she shakes her head.

"Not that I can see, Jake. Just an empty cell, nothing weird." The mercenaries move on and slowly clear the next few cells, alternating back and forth. Three of those cells are Mana Taps, and Tattletale insists on getting samples, winding up with four samples of my mana potions tucked into a pouch at her waist. Every once in a while, she winces and gingerly touches her temple. Headaches? No matter.

The mercenaries group up at the door to Cell A8, and moved into a formation around the door, Tattletale in the back, with Jake by the door and the other three positioned to wipe out anything inside. Through random chatter and orders, I had attached names to the remaining mercenaries, Nicolai for the muscular brute with a minigun and Ted for the shorter man with a shotgun. Jake carefully pushed the door open with one hand, keeping out of the firing line of Nicolai's minigun. "Ah, Boss?" The giant rumbled in an odd accent. "There's nothing in there."

My core was no longer there, of course. I had excavated thousands of square feet of rooms to get to level 5, and there was no way I was leaving my one true vulnerability in such an accessible location. So, naturally, I did what dungeons do, and dug out rooms and tunnels. A metal door, identical to the one leading into the cell, was set onto the bare wall, towards the empty expanse of unused space behind Cellblock A.

"Another door?" Tattletale whispered from the back of the group, before shaking her head. "Boss, I have a suspicion about how this works, but I need more information, and I can't get it without knowing what's behind that door."

Jake glances at his mercenaries briefly. Nicolai shrugs, muscles moving like boulders, and Tedc and Issani nod in return. "Stay at the back," he orders, and carefully pushes the door open. The room beyond is only twice the size of the cell block, a bare ten by twenty cinderblock room, with unlit fluorescent lights, generated automatically by the existing dungeon theme, set into the ceiling. It looks exactly like the rest of the cellblock, except it was never on the plans. At the opposite end of the room, set into the far corner, is another metal door. Otherwise, it's completely empty. This does not appear to reassure the intruders.

"It's too big, to go further we'll have to all go inside. I'm not leaving anyone behind." Jake states grimly. "It's been too quiet, and that's not a good thing. Zombies jumped the last squad before now, and I haven't seen anything resembling gun turrets." He turns to Tattletale. "Anything?"

She grimaces again. "No… I can't…" Shaking her head, the girl glares at the wall. "There's something making this too difficult to make out, something that either it's hiding or I don't know."

Ted snorts. "Typical Thinker bullshit. Not worth shit once the chips are down."

"I'm docking you a day when we get out of here, Ted." Jake retorted. "Remember who the boss is."

"And where the hell is he, huh? Sitting pretty in his office, steepling his fingers at people while wearing fetish-wear?" Ted retorts. "At least the other bloody capes go and get their hands dirty. Thinkers all act like they're too good for honest work."

Tattletale opens her mouth to retort, but Jake cuts her off. "And that's why you're going through that door first, Ted. Hell, if you survive, I'll throw in a grand out of my own pocket." Jake smiles, but there is no mirth there. "Or would you rather I tell the boss what you think of him?"

Ted blanches, but moves ahead, fingers white around his shotgun. I grin, as he examines the door. "The only handle's at the bottom, I think it's a vertical sliding door." He squats and grabs the handle, pulling it up with a heave. The door slides up smoothly, until it catches, well above head height. Beyond is a long, narrow corridor, only five feet wide but fifty feet long. The floor is slightly recessed, and a thick grayish sludge fills the floor of the corridor. It's pitch black, no lights at all, and the walls are the same cinderblocks as the rest of the prison block. Ted carefully steps forward, stumbling slightly as his foot drops into the sludge. "Jesus. The hell is this?"

Tattletale shrugs. "I can't tell. It's not sewage, thank god."

Ted sneers, and moves forward slowly, squelching slightly with each step as he pulls his boots out of the ooze, his shotgun and the underslung light panning back and forth along the corridor. Issani follows him, grimacing. Jake glances at Nicolai. "Stow the gun, it's a liability in close quarters."

"Da." The massive man slings his gun over his back and pulls a massive machete from a sheath on his back, testing the edge with his thumb. He moves into the corridor, ducking slightly to avoid hitting his head.

The mercenary captain takes a long look at the corridor. "There's something that just isn't right here," he mutters, before turning to Tattletale. "And you don't have a clue what's going on?"

The girl winces. "No, and it's giving me a splitting headache. It's like the cape is…" Her eyes widen. "Oh shit."

I grin internally, and drop the door, trapping the three mercenaries who had entered the hallway. The three concrete-infused Slimes, which had gained the attribute Sturdy from all the stone they had consumed, coalesced around the three mercenaries, trapping them waist-deep in goo before starting to quickly dissolve their clothes. And skin. Screams echo from the corridor as the mercenaries start thrashing, trying to swat away the acidic ooze, but it's thick, sticky, and resists cutting and slashing, trapping flying hands and etching away at blades and guns.

Jake darts to the door as soon as it drops, but I don't have an obligation to make entry easy - and this hallway isn't actually leading to my core. The door is locked firmly to the ground, and while he could pick the lock, there's no way he can make it through in time. Already, the screams are beginning to die down to gurgles, and I drink in the rush of Mana as Ted succumbs to the fast-acting acid.

"He's baiting us." Whimpers Tattletale. "He wanted us to come in deeper."

"Fuck that," growls Jake, and he pulls his pistol, quickly locating the lock and firing a quick pair of shots at the metal. It isn't quite enough to actually break the lock, but I decide to be merciful and unlock the door anyway. The captain heaves up the door, only to stand, transfixed, as he sees the slime climbing down Issani's throat, drowning out her screams into gurgles. Slime acid works quickly on organic material, and Ted is already dead, flesh melting away to bare bones, the slime gradually losing interest and joining the feast that Nicolai had become. The giant is blind, swinging his machete wildly, bellowing incoherently in a language I cannot understand. One errant strike splits Issani's head like a coconut, and she collapses. I drink in her mana. So obliging, these mercenaries. Tattletale is staring, transfixed at the grisly scene, but Jake doesn't say a word, stepping back away from the hallway of death, backing towards the door. Pity.

I move my final pieces. The zombie I made from the corpse of Brad Winston, flanked by two of my generic zombies, lurch into the room from the cell block. Casually, he lays one rotting hand on Jake's shoulder. The mercenary turns and has enough time to gape in horror before the rusted knife in the other hand guts him. As I feel the mana surge from his death, echoed by Nicolai finally giving into the damage dealt by the slimes, my zombies turn to Tattletale.

The costumed girl immediately drops to her knees, hands behind her head. "I surrender!"

Enemy 'Tattletale' has surrendered!

Would you like to enter a contract?

What?

AN: Sorry about the delay, folks. Had stuff happen. Once stuff was done happening, more stuff happened, and so on.

Automatonation · Sep 13, 2018

Ok, that's new. What is a contract?

"Help" said:
A contract is a symbiotic bond between the Dungeon and a sapient being from outside the Dungeon. This bond gives the contracted being a fraction of the Dungeon's ability to generate Mana, as well as removing their limitations on growth and change, allowing them nearly unlimited potential to shape their development. In return, the Dungeon gains a loyal minion and companion that can venture outside of its walls, as well as a small boost in its capacity to absorb Mana. Contracted beings do not count as Units.

As always, informative, but not particularly helpful. Thank you, blue boxes. Let's set that aside for the moment. She's surrendered, so what are my gains from those Mercenaries?

Total gains:
239 MP from enemy deaths
15 MP from enemy drops
Multiple items added to Loot Library
Turret variation added - Shotgun
Turret variation added - Minigun

Achievement unlocked:
Slimebush - Kill an enemy by disguising a Slime unit as part of the environment. - Upkeep cost for all Tier 1 and 2 Slimes reduced by .5 MP/Hour
Liquid Murder - Kill at least 3 enemies with Slime units - Slime Unit Tree unlocked

Well, that was quite nice. Tattletale is shifting uncomfortably on her knees, hands still laced behind her head. She's… She's trembling, scared. I don't like that. Why don't I like that? I literally eat people and then turn them into zombies. Speaking of….

I raise the four mercenary corpses as Skeletal Soldiers, only 30 MP since they're half-off, on top of a 25% discount on Undead units from a room that I had designated as a Graveyard. The corpses shudder, lifting themselves up as tattered rags resembling their previous kevlar armor reforms around the bare bones. The weapons that they had used in life reformed in death, and at my command, my new warriors moved deeper into my halls, the slimes moving out of the way deferentially, doors opening at my command.

I refocus on the trembling girl at my feet. Well, metaphorically speaking. My zombies were still standing behind her, so that counts, right? I had already eaten seven people, so eight wasn't really a stretch, in that regards, but…. She surrendered. She wasn't trying to hurt me. She was scared.

I wish I could talk to her.

Processing desire…
.
..
…
.
..
…

New ability unlocked!

Dungeon Voice - Due to the concentration of Mana infusing your domain, you can now speak throughout your dungeon while enemies are not invading!

Well, that would have been nice to have earlier. I sigh, and a noise like a breeze echoes throughout my rooms. Tattletale shivers. You know, I should really make sure that the doors outside are closed… I grit my teeth, ready myself, and speak.

"Tattletale." My voice comes from right behind her left ear, at what is apparently a startlingly loud volume. The girl shrieks, claps her hand to her ear, and falls to the floor, before scrambling over to put her back to the wall. Ah, damnit, she's crying. How the hell am I supposed to decide whether to eat her if she's crying? She's sobbing now, holding her knees. Oh.

"Did I say that out loud?"

Frantic nodding.

"Shit." I really need to focus on saying what I want to say. "In my defense, I literally just figured out how to actually talk. It's not as easy as you make it look. Tattletale." My voice is a deep baritone, slightly echo-ey, although how much of that is due to the bare room and how much is due to the magical nature of my voice is unclear. Obviously, experimentation will be necessary.

A choking sob transitions into a weak giggle. "Well, maybe you should have practiced first?" she ventures.

In a small room a zombie rolls its eyes, and then scrambles to pick up the one that falls out. "What part of 'just figured out' did you not get? I've been alive for approximately 12 hours, so far as I can tell, and already had a bunch of people try to kill me." Maybe I'm a little bitter.

The girl winces. Good. "Anyway, the more of you I eat, the stronger I get, and the better I am at keeping that snake creep outside of me."

"You mean that literally. We're food… No, fuel for whatever it is you do." Tattletale is glancing between the zombies and the open door to the hallway, where a pair of slimes, pulled up into medicine ball-sized blobs, bounced off each other cheerfully. "You dig rooms and hallways and summon monsters inside them to kill people who come in, which gives you more energy to dig and create monsters?"

I grudgingly nod Brad's head. "Got it, girlie."

"What's the point?" She asks, and I pause. That's the question I've been avoiding asking myself since I woke up, that I've been making zombies sing and planning deathtraps to avoid contemplating. "I mean, what's the point of coming in? You've killed everyone fairly easily so far, so right now why would anyone want to come in? Won't you starve?" Ok, so maybe not that question. Existential crisis averted!

"I won't starve," I state flatly. "And the point is…" Deep in my dungeon, a zombie grabs a pair of drumsticks and starts a drumroll that echoes throughout my walls. Tattletale looks around frantically. "Changing the world." At my entrance, the doors slide closed, and I absorb the glowing lights, leaving it pitch black in Cell Block A. It occurs to me that the room where Tattletale is currently sitting isn't lit at all and that she's isolated in pitch black darkness, with only a trio of zombies for company. With a twist of focus, I activate the lights set into the ceiling, and they come on, illuminating the bare room with grey, flickering light. Tattletale jumps, her eyes darting from zombie to zombie, focusing on the one that still resembles the mercenary captain.

"H-How are you changing the world from here?" Tattletale asks.

"Magic," I reply simply. She's pulled information out of thin air before, let's see if she can again.

"You… You believe that." She laughs. "Magic doesn't exi… It does. Or you think it does." she studies the zombies again. "You can convert flesh to magic, and then back." She giggles. "Magic. Literal magic."

"Mana." I correct her. Her hand creeps to her throat. "I bring Mana from between worlds, and infuse it into this one, to provide a catalyst for change." I wait. Silence. "I can do that for you."

Her eyes widen. "You're a Trump?" Fingers scratch at her throat. "You can do that." It wasn't a question. "What's the catch?"

"A bond. We would be partners, tied together by strands of fate." God, melodramatic much, Dungeon-man? Cool it.

Tattletale snorted. "Yeah, so it's a Trump/Master effect." She leans her head back against the wall closing her eyes, feet sliding down until her legs are flat on the floor.

"I… I don't know what that means." It hurts a little bit, admitting ignorance.

One eye pops open. "You really don't. Amnesia?"

"If by that you mean that my first memory was Coil having one of his goons shoot me, yes." Put a little edge on that guilt trip, and yes, the wince means I nailed it.

"It's a set of power classifications used by the PRT, so they know how to approach villains with powers."

"Powers. I'm not the only one?"

"Wow, you really thought that?" Tattletale giggled. "People with powers have been appearing for nearly four decades now. Hell, I have a power." She grimaced a bit, scratching at her throat again. Was that a nervous tic, or something else. "So does Coil."

"You said that I was a Master/Trump. In what way?"

Tattletale laughs and laughs, edging closer and closer into hysteria until she's giggling and sobbing. I let her get it out of her system, letting my Mana regeneration tick over. 536 MP and counting. Not that I can really do anything with it until I decide what to do with her. The box offering a contract with her is floating in my mind's eye still. "You're making eating you more and more tempting." I finally state, and she stops laughing. That's better.

"Sorry, it's just that just with what I know about you, you have the potential to be a threat worse than fucking Nilbog, and the government wrote off an entire town rather than have to deal with him," Tattletale says. "I would say that you're probably a powerful Shaker, meaning you can affect the world around you, and a high-level Master, since you have minions that you control, but you can also control people who come from outside your territory."

"Not control. It's a contract. We both get something." I admit.

"A…. A contract?" Tattletale says, sitting up straighter. "Can I check the wording?" That's a good question. Help?

There's a pop, and an honest to Gaia scroll of parchment pops out of mid-air. Tattletale snatches up, unrolls it, and starts to read, her forehead wrinkled.

I do hereby agree to be joined in mutual companionship with the Dungeon Core. Outside his walls, my eyes shall be his to see, my ears shall be his to hear, and my voice shall be his to speak, but my will shall always be my own. The Dungeon shall be my home, and it shall comfort and shield me from harm, just as I shall shield it from harm. The Mana of the Dungeon shall flow through me, and through it, I will transcend all boundaries of mundane flesh, so that all may know that the Dungeon has sent me. Though our agreement, all prior chains are broken, and even if I die, I shall be reborn, my soul protected from the Reaper by the Dungeon's will.

So Mote It Be.

"Well." Tattletale stated weakly. "That's…" She looked over the whole scroll again. "That's something." Scratch scratch. Those damn fingers again. What is on her neck?

"You keep scratching your neck," I state.

She freezes. "Ah…"

"Why?" I'm suspicious now, and I move my point of view closer and closer. There! A seam. A patch of plastic, the same color as her skin. "What's that on your neck?"

Tattletale deflates. "Coil. He's tracking me."

My Zombie commando lunges, pinning the girl against the wall, knife to her throat.

"NO!" She screams. "I'll sign it! I want to be free!"

"Explain," I growl, and the girl begins to babble about how she had been hired at gunpoint off the street, and that Coil had her trapped against her will, using her as a tool. I let the zombie release her, and it squats in silence in the middle of the room, staring at the girl. I mean…. That's essentially what he did to me. We two trapped fools. "You'll swear to never betray me?"

"Never." Tattletale peels the patch off her throat and throws it at a slime, who snaps up a tendril to catch it. "Partners."

"I agree. Sign the contract." A quill, pitch black with a needle-like point, pops out of mid-air and hovers in front of the girl.

"A Blood Quill." She states flatly. "Your power is a nerd." Huh?

"Life is in the blood, Tattletale," I state cooly, trying to hide my confusion.

She giggles, and pulls off her mask. "Call me Lisa. Nerd." She signs the contract with a flourish and a wince, as the quill writes in her own blood. Once she finishes, the parchment disappears with a flash of non-light.

Congratulations! You have accepted a bonded partner! Lisa Wilbourn, AKA 'Tattletale' will be able to venture outside your territory to gain resources and information. For accepting your first partner, you gain a permanent additional 100 MP/hour. This bonus will not repeat for additional partners or minions.

I feel a surge of mana flow through me, and then arc out, slamming into Lisa's sternum like a bolt of blue-white lightning. She screams, the mana lifting her up into the air, coating her as it seeps into every pore before starting to shine out of her open eyes and mouth. The mana surge subsides and I reabsorb the excess, leaving Lisa curled, gasping on the floor. There's a strand of connection now, between her and my core, and if I focus, I can see out of her eyes much like I can see out the eyes of my Zombies. Not that I usually do, my field of vision is far superior, but anyway.

"Are you okay?" I ask, and position a zombie with a hand out to help her to her feet. She smiles and grabs the arm, pulling, only for the arm to come unjointed at the elbow, leaving it in her grasp, and the zombie half an arm short. She looks at the arm. The zombie looks at the arm for a long moment, before grabbing at the stump and howling in mock pain and running around in a panic. Snort. Giggle. Before long, Tattletale is rolling on the ground laughing at my antics. Sourly, my Zombie Commando snatches his subordinate's arm from where it's lying on the ground and throws it at the panicking zombie, hitting it in the head so that it collapses to the floor.

Slapstick is not dead. It's risen from the grave to prey on unwitting victims.

In his office, Coil stares at the transcript from the high-yield microphone on his Tattletale's throat, all the way to the point where she decided to smash it and betray him. Magic? A cape subsuming and burrowing out from his base. HIS base. Coil grit his teeth. In the other timeline, the girl is still cooling her heels outside the cellblock. He's lost too much and gained just enough information. Time to end this. He can no longer justify throwing resources away in fits and starts, and conventional forces have little effect. After all, he's thrown away squad after squad in disposable timelines over the past few hours. Coil had been hopeful this time, typically, the squad gets no further than the initial cell block before being slaughtered by zombies and turrets, and occasionally being shot in the back by Tattletale, although she never made it out either. This time, although they made it further than he ever expected, there's no way to tell what actually killed his mercenaries, although from some of the sizzling, he suspected acid. With a thought, Coil ended the timeline.

The wrong timeline ended. What? The transcript was still on his screen, and a frantic check of the security cameras showed a pair of nervous mercenaries in front of the cell block. Coil split the timeline, closed it again, over and over, a dozen times in rapid succession. Each time, the correct timeline closes.

What happened?

How?

…..No. That cape. That FUCKING cape.

She said it was a Trump. It must be doing this, messing with his power.

His Tatt- no, the traitorous bitch, was still in the clutches of that DAMN statue that thinks it's a sparkly magical FUCKING NILBOG. Well, he survived the fucking Goblin King, and a DAMN ROCK isn't going to take what is his away from him.

In one timeline, Coil's inarticulate scream of rage echoed through the underground base. In another, he takes a few deep breaths, calming himself, before making a phone call. "Accord."

"Yes, I understand, it's ahead of schedule, but I have a situation. I need to accelerate the transfer."

"Of course. The additional balance will be in your account."

"Thank you very much. As always, it's a pleasure doing business with you."

Coil sneered as he hung up the phone. No more games. He'd show that damn statue what happens when you take what is his. In his other timeline, he's still demonstrating a command of profanity befitting an ex-soldier. Thomas Calvert gritted his teeth behind the mask, and nervously closed the timeline, then breathed out in relief as the correct one closed.

"Mr Pitter," He stated, holding the intercom button. "I'm heading out. Keel has instructions to call me if anything happens."

God, he needed a drink.

AN: Wasn't expecting the Tattletale hatred, but once she surrendered, I couldn't justify the Dungeon murdering her in cold blood. Hope this helps with some of the Coil concerns as well.

On Timeline Woes:
Ok, so first of all, the only way that I can see Coil's precognition working is with accurate models of people's minds, so that it can emulate their behavior in real time. With other thinker powers like Tattletale, his shard pings the other shard with the stimuli to pick up the result as if the Thinker in question had received those stimuli, and then integrates their reactions into the simulation.

When Coil was initially sending in his squad with Tattletale, his power was initially modelling the first room of the dungeon as it had been in the initial reports and memory of the surviving merc, as well as pings off of Tattletale's shard to model her actions, since Mana is currently an outside-context problem for it, at least until his mana saturation increases. Since he's well outside the range of the Dungeon, that's not going to happen very soon. That meant that at first, it assumed that the grinder was the same, and so reported lots of deaths. As Tattletale absorbed more ambient Mana, the pings off her shard for the information that she would have gotten grow more and more divergent, as her intuitive shard decides that more and more things would have changed as it gets more information on how Mana works. As such, after enough time passed, Coil's power decided that it could not accurately model what was actually occurring in the cellblock, and so when he split the timeline, it could either fail to split the timeline at all, or have a less than optimal result in the prime timeline. Since his goal was to gather accurate information, rather than conserve losses, the shard chose the second option, and when instructed to close the spare timeline, it does so, closing the one that gathered less information.

This may be assigning too much agency to a shard, but it's the only way I could see the circumstances going.

Automatonation · Sep 15, 2018

While I work on the next chapter, here is the unlocked Slime Tree.

Slime Tier list

Current potential properties:

Containment Foam - convert part of its body into liquid containment foam, which rapidly expands and sets to trap foes. Set containment foam no longer has the slime's acid effects

Stone - Gives the status effect Sturdy, allowing it to resist a significant amount of cutting or impact damage, at the cost of being more vulnerable to explosives

Vile - Causes the slime to constantly emit a foul miasma that deals slow damage to all organic enemies. Smells absolutely terrible.

Lesser Ooze
MP Cost: 5
Upkeep Cost: 0 MP/Hour

An ambulatory slime mold with an extremely acidic body, this magical creature hunts by hurling portions of itself at its foes, and slowly eats them alive. Can move and extrude portions of itself surprisingly quickly.

Lesser Slime
MP Cost: 3
Upkeep Cost: 0 MP/Hour

A large globe of translucent, acidic slime, this magical creature is mindless, but relentless, and absorbs properties of anything that it eats.

Ooze
MP Cost: 10
Upkeep Cost: 0.5 MP/Hour

A large pool of liquid acid, the Ooze can hurl tendrils or globules of itself with terrifying speed. Unfortunately, it can no longer absorb elemental effects after the first one has been set, either upon summoning, or through consuming opponents.

Slime
MP Cost: 12
Upkeep Cost: 0.5 MP/Hour

When it's pulled into a sphere, this slime can fully envelope a grown man, absorbing defining traits and features based on what it consumes. Slimes can have a variety of elemental abilities simultaneously.

Gel
MP Cost: 15
Upkeep Cost: 0.5 MP/Hour

This beach-ball-sized slime is much more dense than it's larger cousins, and rapidly regenerates cutting damage, while ignoring most impact damage that doesn't actively splatter it. While it can extrude tentacles and change shape, it primarily uses its dense body to bounce around, causing significant damage on impact.

Symbiotic Ooze
MP Cost: 30
Upkeep Cost: 2 MP/Hour (0 when bonded)

A smaller ooze with an oily sheen, this creature can bond with one of your summoned creatures, or with an invader that has been incapacitated, but not killed, bringing it under your control. This gives the bonded creature acidic or other elemental properties, slime-like resilience, and the ooze's ability to create rapidly lashing tentacles.

Slime Mage
MP Cost: 50
Upkeep Cost: 2 MP/Hour

Slightly smaller than a typical Slime, this monster tends to stay a little more cohesive, but can generate and fire magical bolts of any element or property to which it is attuned. Smarter than the average slime, they tend to like hats, for some reason.

Gelbomination
MP Cost: 25
Upkeep Cost: 1.5 MP/Hour

The Gelbomination is comprised of dense gel and weighs more than 500 pounds. Molding the upper part of its body into a rough humanoid shape, it attacks with arms ending in shape-shifting bludgeoning or grappling weapons. Incredibly resilient, any parts that are cut off or blown off are attracted back to the main mass.

Slime Queen
MP Cost: 100
Upkeep Cost: 4 MP/Hour

A slime large enough to fill a small room, this slime can split off segments of itself equivalent to Lesser Slimes at no MP or upkeep cost, and has the ability to cast magic with a wide range of effects. Wears a crown, because it is the queen, after all.

Mutagenic Ooze
MP Cost: 85
Upkeep cost: 4 MP/Hour

A large pool of ooze that can envelope and mutate enemies into grotesque abominations under your control. Lashing tentrils whip out and snare foes, but the main body of this ooze cannot move at more than a crawl.

Mimic
MP Cost: 75
Upkeep Cost: 3 MP/Hour

This Gel can condense its flesh to the appearance and density of wood or some softer metals, up to about aluminum, as well as change colors. It uses this ability to camouflage itself as a normal object and lurk in plain sight to ambush unwary intruders. There are generally some errors, as the Mimic cannot technically see, but it is typically difficult to notice these errors before you are too close to escape.

Essentially, Oozes are the rogues, more liquid and mobile with either a DPS or enemy subversion focus, Slimes are fighters, multi-classing into casters at higher tiers, and Gels are tanks, with the Tier 4 Mimics going StealthTank and boosting

Automatonation · Oct 23, 2018

"Bullshit."

"I'm not joking, everything I do is through a menu interface. I even have a help popup that explains things when I ask." I explain, a little bit exasperated.

Tattletale lounged on the bed in the cell my core was currently mounted in - B7, opposite my previous core room of Cell A8. I felt relatively safe here, at least until I finished my expansion plans. The double doors leading into Cell Block B were blocked by a two foot thick wall of rebar-reinforced concrete I had created, and the only path into the cell block was the hidden passage going from Cell A1 to B2, which was full of Slimes, a tactic that had proved quite effective earlier. Lisa had smirked knowingly when one of my zombies lead her into the passageway, but other than that had said little, just looking around in fascination as I led her down the corridor, stepping around the gravestones that had popped up when I designated the room as a Graveyard. That upgrade alone saved me 25% of the initial cost of Undead and Unholy Devices, which made me quite happy indeed.

"So what you are trying to tell me is that all this, everything you have set up, has been like a dungeon building RPG?" Lisa asked incredulously, idly spinning a sealed test-tube filled with Mana Potion around her fingers.

"Precisely." I currently have my voice seemingly centered at my Core, out of politeness, if nothing else. "And I am currently trying to decide what to do with 506 MP that would help in my current situation."

"Ooh? That's a lot?" Lisa asked, sitting up. Her eyes sparked with interest. I had noticed that since she had bonded with me, that she seemed less inclined to grimace or rub her temples, but I wasn't going to draw attention to it.

"Yes, quite a lot. Orders of magnitude higher than where I was starting out. Only a few hours ago, I was excited that my regeneration was more than 5 MP/hour, and now I get more than 350." I wish I could make facial expressions with anything other than my zombies. A good grimace would work wonders right now. "I'm concerned though. I'm at a turning point, and I can't quite decide what to do. What do you think Coil will do next?"

Lisa grinned. Something inside me leapt in kinship, a brotherhood of evil smirks initiating a new member. A lesser man may call that smirk vulpine, but I know wolfish hunger when I see it. "Oh, Coil is pissed. He thought I was his little pet Thinker, and now you've stolen me. So he's going to start pulling out the big guns."

"Like the one the tall guy was carrying? I rather like that one, it's getting incorporated into my higher-level Turrets." Miss the point, Dungeon, she's obviously wanting to explain things.

Tattletale snorted. "Handheld Miniguns are rather effective against a lot of things, but Coil is going to start bringing in capes - people with powers - to try and kill you, rather than just sending in mercenaries to get you under control."

"Yes, you mentioned that people can have superpowers." The word feels odd. Like part of me is really excited, and another part can't quite grasp it, and wants to say magic instead. "What should I expect?"

Lisa tapped her chin in thought. "Well, first of all, Coil is a Thinker. I don't know exactly how it works, but what he experiences is that he can choose to split the timeline at any point, make two different choices, and see how those timelines play out in real time. He can then choose to end whichever timeline he likes the least." A grimace. "It's a pain to deal with, and to be honest, I am not entirely certain why he chose to keep this timeline, unless he hasn't chosen yet and I'm currently being simulated…" She shakes her head. "No point in worrying about that, it's' bad enough without an existential crisis."

"Welcome to my last 12 hours." I deadpan.

My guest giggles slightly. "I bet. Not sure what I would do in your shoes." Lisa's smile fades slightly, before reciting in a slight sing-song. "Mover, Shaker, Brute and Breaker, Thinker, Tinker, Striker, Trump. Changer, Stranger, Blaster, Master; Parahumans, count them up." She blushes a little. "Elementary school play. Anyway, I would be most concerned about Brutes and Blasters. Those are parahumans with enhanced strength and durability, or with the ability to do damage at range, and they are likely the most immediate danger to you and your units."

"So Fighters and Wizards, got it."

Lisa's eyes roll. "God, you're worse than Uber and Leet." She pauses for a moment, shakes her head, and continues. "You should counter Strangers and Masters, and your interaction with Thinker powers is just weird. I don't know if it's a hard counter, the longer I spend in here, the better my power seems to understand you, but it should still put a crimp on Coil's usual.... style...." The look of dawning glee on her face was a wonder to behold. "I don't know exactly how you're doing it, but something about your Mana means that what Coil experiences when he simulates you doesn't match what actually happens! The snake bastard is fucked!" Lisa giggles in wicked glee for a few moments, before continuing. "The other categories are all dependant on the details of the power. Offhand, I think that Coil only has a couple of capes on his payroll that he can easily deploy. Circus is a bit of a grab-bag, better at breaking and entering than outright assault, but they have enhanced agility, a dimensional storage container, and the ability to throw fireballs."

"So, more like a Rogue with a wand of Fireball, then?" I tease.

"Shut up." Lisa throws a pillow at my core with a laugh. "The other is Trainwreck, a Brute/Tinker who is actually infiltrating the Merchants at the moment, but will likely be recalled. He creates powered armor for himself out of junk, but I think he depends on it to survive. He would be tough, but large and clumsy, and your slimes should be able to damage and get inside the armor." She glares at you for a moment. "You do know what powered armor is, right?"

"Yes, I can actually unlock a Mech once I construct enough Machine units."

"Really? That's some bullshit right there. Armsmaster would hate you."

"Armsmaster?"

"Ah, he's with the Protectorate. Great Tinker, and a pretty renowned hero, but he's got a bit of an inferiority complex with people that he perceives as not having to work hard to improve themselves, and he's not great with people overall." Lisa explains. "But since he's a hero, I doubt that you'll have to deal with him any time soon."

"Anyway, you suspect that Coil can bring in a Thief with fireballs and a Warrior/Artificer?" I ask. "That doesn't seem like enough."

There's a long pause. "No. He won't think so, either." Lisa stares at the tube of Mana Potion in her hands, her brow creased in thought. "He's got other capes coming. Ones that he was planning to bring in earlier, but he's almost certainly accelerating his plans now. You're taking over his base, taking his things, and so now he's got to take you down." She grimaces. "I'm not much help. Not against brutes."

"Knowing is half the battle." I state calmly. "Knowing that something is coming is better than not knowing. I've been preparing blindly based on my best guesses, and now I actually have a little bit of information about what's going on out there."

Lisa grins weakly. "Sorry… Just." She shudders. "Just wanting to make sure that I haven't hitched my rope to a sinking ship." I want to give her a hug, but the best I can do is have the thin blanket on the bed drape itself over her and squeeze slightly. I idly consider having one of my female zombies come and help hug my new friend, but decide against it. Zombie hugs are not very comforting.

"I get it." I say softly after a long moment. "Coil is a bastard, and he's sneaky, and he'll keep trying until he wins or dies." Injecting as much vindictive glee as I can into my voice, I continue. "That's why I'm going to grow until he can't kill me, and then we're marching out of here and killing him ourselves."

Lisa snorts. "Core, you don't have feet." Her weak smile seems a little more genuine now. "But… Thanks."

"Core." I say softly. "I don't remember having a name, really. But Core will work for now."

Dungeon's name has been set to Core.

"Thank you, Lisa. That means a lot." I pull up my list of available Floor Themes in my menu. "So, maybe you can give me a little input on this."

Floor Themes said:
Floor themes are visual and atmospheric adjustments that change how your dungeon looks overall. These themes often have synergy with certain units or trees of units, and are expected of any thriving Dungeon

Current Floor Theme: Subterrenean Villian Lair - Prison Block

Available Floor Themes:

Cost: 200 MP
Benefits: Reduces initial cost of Skeletons by 10%, reduces Upkeep of Spiders and Rats by .25 MP/hour

Malus: Upkeep cost of Dogs increases by .25, new Machine or Machine/Undead cannot be summoned.

Description: Damp stone walls, guttering torches, and carved sarcofagi lend a gloomy atmosphere to this lost crypt.

Cost: 200 MP

Benefit: Reduces initial MP cost of Machines by 25%, All Dog and Rat units have significant chance to inflict Rabies on foes with their attacks, causing Rage. Internal foundries and construction areas cause areas of high heat, causing fatigue, or even damage, to intruders

Malus: New magic casting units, such as the Skeleton or Slime Mage, cannot be summoned.

Description: An abandoned factory left running indefinitely. Rusty blades, active assembly lines, precarious walkways, and molten metal pose significant danger to the unwary.

Cost: 200 MP, active Mad Science Lab

Benefit: Reduces initial cost of Unholy Devices by 10%, upkeep cost of Unholy Devices by 25%, increases effectiveness of all Fear and Terror effects, and has mild Soul Siphon effect throughout dungeon. Unholy Devices have a chance to evade detection when hidden, due to environmental debris

Malus: Living non-magical units have their Upkeep increased by .25 MP/Hour

Description: The lair of a mad inventor, rust-stained steel walls and blood stains highlight the remains of his mad experiments fusing technology with the undead.

Cost: 200 MP, active Macabre Academy of Arts

Benefit: Reduces initial cost and MP/hr of all undead units by 10%. Gives all humanoid undead the ability to speak (and sing) intelligibly.

Malus: Only on-theme undead units can be in the primary areas, all other units must be in 'backstage' designated areas.

Description: An opulent theater, gone badly to seed. The wood paneling is stained and rotting, brass fittings are corroded, and the once plush velvet curtains and thick carpets are tattered and faded. Anything can lurk in the dusty concrete rooms backstage.

With a little focus, I create a paper with the descriptions on it for Lisa, and she snatches it out of mid-air. "Right now, I'm torn between the Iron Crypt and the Theatre of the Damned." I explain. "It seems like it's more important than just atmosphere."

Lisa's eyes dart to my Core and then back to the paper, lowering it. "You said that the Unholy Devices were all really durable and could do a lot of damage, right?"

"Yes. I already have some, the mercenaries you came in with are all Skeletal Soldiers now."

"What's the Mad Science Lab?" Lisa asks.

"Ah, it lets me make modifications to some of my Unholy Device units, and makes all of them cheaper to summon. I can't quite get it yet, need to build a Mechanic's Shop first." I have plenty of space, and the Mechanic's Shop is fairly cheap, only 50 MP, so that would be quite simple to do. I pull up my list of available room upgrades, create another sheet of paper with the descriptions, and float it over to her.

Effect: Adds additional 50 MP/hour.
Requirements: None.
Limitations: Can have no more Mana Taps than your current Dungeon Level (currently 4/5)
Cost: 10 MP
Description: A deeper connection to the Mana flowing between worlds causes the excess to flow into your dungeon. As a side effect, produces a constant trickle of Mana Potion that can be looted and consumed by intruders.

Effect: Reduces initial MP cost of Tier 1 and Tier 2 Undead by 25%.
Requirements: Necrophile achievement
Limitations: Effect does not stack with other Graveyards.
Cost: 50 MP
Description: Faded tombstones jut up from the floor, forcing invaders to go around. Skeletal hands may erupt from the soft soil to delay foes, if allowed by the Floor Theme.

Effect: Necromantic energy gradually damages living foes that enter this room, adding to your MP. Intensifies active Fear effects. Can be toggled on and off.
Requirements: Necrophile
Limitations: Cannot be applied to a room with an existing upgrade, cannot kill intruders without assistance.
Cost: 25 MP
Description: A cold mist fills the air, impairing visibility and draining the energy and life force of any foes who enter.

Effect: Reduces upkeep costs on all Tier 1-3 Undead and Unholy Devices by .25 MP/Hour. Spawns 8 Temple Guardians (4 Skeleton Warrior, 2 Skeleton Mage, 2 Skeleton Archer)
Requirements: Graveyard, Necrophile achievement, room with at least 1000 square feet in area.
Limitations: Does not stack with other Necropolis. Spawned units cannot leave room.
Cost: 175 MP
Description: - An unholy temple, deep below the earth, celebrating the restless dead. Columns hold up the high ceiling and obstruct fields of view, coffins line the walls, and cold torches cast dim lights that only make the shadows grow deeper.

Effect: enhances all Skeletons' ability to reassemble, letting them reassemble with bones from other Skeleton Units with no penalty. Skeleton units can temporarily combine into Bone Beasts, but must reform into individual units after 2 minutes.
Requirements: Necrophile
Limitations: Additional Skeletal Sanctums do not have any effect.
Cost: 50 MP
Description: A room full of random human bones, piled in heaps and drifts. Spring into life as a Bone Beast Room Guardian that cannot leave the room if intruders enter.

Effect: Converts undead and Unholy Devices into music-themed variations automatically. Spawns Zombie Dance Instructor (tier 2 Vigorous Zombie) and 3 Zombie Backup Dancers that respawn automatically and don't count towards unit count, but cannot leave the MAA.
Requirements: Necrophile, deliberately using conventional Undead units to create music for significant lengths of time.
Limitations: Can only have one Macabre Academy of Arts
Cost: 50 MP
Description: - a decaying choral training academy, music room and dance Studio.

Effect: Reduces cost of all Drone units by 25%, automatically respawns destroyed drones at no cost.
Requirements: Tech Enthusiast
Limitations: All new Drones spawn from this location.
Cost: 25 MP
Description: A small room with an assembly line in miniature. The robotic arms can act defensively against invaders.

Effect: Reduces Upkeep cost of up to 10 Turrets to 0 MP/Hour.
Requirements: Tech Enthusiast
Limitations: Enemies can destroy components in this room, crippling turrets until it is repaired.
Cost: 50 MP
Description: A dim room filled with humming computers and screens showing the point of view of multiple turrets.

Effect: Reduces initial cost of spawning Machine units by 25%, repairs damaged machines within this room automatically.
Requirements: Tech Enthusiast
Limitations: Cost reduction does not stack with multiple rooms, has lootable components
Cost: 50 MP
Description: A grungy room filled with parts of various machine units and robotic assembly arms that assemble new units and repair old ones. The robotic arms can use their tools to defend the room.

Effect: reduces initial MP cost of Tier 1-3 Unholy Devices by 25%. Allows built in equipment or weapons for Cyberzombies and Frankenborg. Allows Iron Crypt Floor Theme.
Requirements: Graveyard, Mechanic's Shop
Limitations: Effect does not stack with other rooms.
Cost: 100 MP
Description: A grotesque room, full of mechanical components, rotting body parts, crackling electricity, and other, darker things. A rotating metal operating table with thick leather straps dominates the room, and can trap enemy humanoids that stumble onto it.

Lisa glances over the paper quickly, then rereads it slowly, flipping back and forth between the Floor Themes and Room Upgrades, before looking up and staring at my core for a while. I idly swirl my mana inside the crystal sphere, branching fractal patterns in three dimensions that swirl and curl in on themselves, before expanding into new shapes. "Why are you conflicted?" She asks eventually. Her voice is soft, a little concerned.

It takes a moment to put my thoughts together. "I want to survive." In front of a mirrored wall hidden in a distant room, a restless zombie wearing spandex shifts from squats to long stretches, groaning angrily at its subordinates when their rotting joints hesitate to allow the same range of motion. "But I also want to live." A band of five skeletons in tuxedos tune instruments made of bones and sinew. "I don't have much experience with life, but I feel like…" A rattle of music starts echoing through my halls, a drumbeat, followed by strings and a melancholy saxophone. "If I don't have fun, what's the point, even if I'm not going about things as efficiently as I can?"

Lisa smiles softly. "Sounds like you made up your mind, then."

Realization dawns. "Yes. I suppose I have." Oh, if only I could grin! "Set Dungeon Theme to: Theatre of the Damned!" I crow, and the blue box appears before me.

You have chosen a new Dungeon Theme! This can dramatically affect your layout, units, and abilities. Would you like to continue?

Yes, damn it.

I feel my walls shudder. Like something is… Wrong. I feel sick to my Core.

WARNING

Current Floor layout is incompatible with your chosen theme! You must create a new layout before selecting this theme!

Lisa is looking around wildly at the shaking walls. "What's going on?"

I grit my teeth, metaphorically speaking, and cancel the upgrade. To my relief the walls stop trembling. "Wasn't quite ready. Need to make some changes to my floor plan."

Lisa gives my core a deadpan look. "Let me guess. Not enough like a theater?"

I wince, glad that she can't see it. "Yeah. I have some ideas, though." Casting my thoughts outward, I look down on my current layout. The mirrored cell blocks, A and B, with a hidden corridor between them would have to go. Good riddance, frankly. Too many bad memories. I like what I had done with the corridors leading off of my old core room, Cell A8. The connecting room leading to the fifty foot long hallway filled with slimes was quite nice, and if I had needed it, there was a 10 foot by 20 foot room at the end of that one with a pair of gun turrets, leading into another fifty foot hallway leading back up towards the main dungeon. That hallway was where the bulk of my zombies and skeletons had been lurking, hidden in little five by five closets spaced on either side of the hallway, ready to ambush attackers. At the end of that hallway was another 10 foot by 20 foot room with a pair of gun turrets, which had a pair of double doors leading into a room that was dramatically different from any of my other rooms.

Forty feet long and twenty wide, the Macabre Academy of Arts was a combination music room and dance studio, with dusty wooden floors and stained, cracked mirrors lining one of the long walls. On one of the short sides, a three-level platform stood, where my small band of Skeletal Musicians had been warming up until I got the warning about an upcoming invasion. Other than that, the bare wooden floor was empty, save for a nimble Tier 2 Zombie Dance Instructor wearing a tattered baby blue spandex leotard and flourescent orange legwarmers, who was doing stretches in the mirror, groaning angrily at the trio of subordinate Zombie back-up dancers. The quartet of Zombies had spawned with the room, and couldn't leave, but acted as room guardians. I had considered putting my core in here.... But some instinct warned me against it, so I had hidden myself in the second cell block.

Pros: Narrow corridors, preventing large groups from getting to me, and reducing the chance for my enemies to escape my less nimble units.

Cons: A largely linear pathway that could let more powerful enemies destroy most of my units while they are spread out, and relies on trickery to keep me safe.

Eh, I can do better.

So.

I mentally crack my knuckles, found it less than satisfying, and have the Zombie Dance Instructor do it for me, before pulling my skeletal musicians to the band stand. As they start to play, a low thrumming of strings and drums that threatens to burst into a martial crescendo, I glance at my status.

506 MP. 4460 square feet of area. 24 units.

That will all change soon.

"Hold onto your hat, Lisa. Things are about to get interesting." I expand, filling in the gaps between my rooms before stretching out further, my area growing in leaps and bounds, digging out and down, broader, longer, deeper, only waiting long enough for my mana to refill, my pools and regeneration growing larger for every square foot.

Elsewhere, Coil tosses in his sleep, struck by an uncomfortable feeling of encroaching doom. Grue calls a phone number for the seventh time and gets no answer, before turning to the other Undersiders and shaking his head. An enclosed semi-trailer with a long sleeper cab begins approaching Brockton Bay, the passengers dozing fitfully as the truck bounces on the ill-maintained road. A mercenary lies sleepless in an underground bunker, pondering life, death – and wondering if the pay is really worth it. A pair of geeks stand in front of a whiteboard, sketching enthusiastically, after a call with a job unlike anything they had ever hoped for.

Soon, the Theatre of the Damned will have its Grand Opening, and everything will change.

AN:. Sorry about the delay. Things came up.

Why Yes, I am an Evil Lair. (Worm/Dungeon Core) (No Longer A Quest)

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Automatonation

Automatonation

Automatonation

Automatonation

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