Next to my stuffed assistant, a frozen silhouette resembling a ghost of wood and rags, excitement vibrated through me like a plucked taut string. Before my eyes, the system came alive once more, and a dazzling interface replaced the empty space: six major categories appeared, standing like the pillars of a temple to explore.
The menu drew me in. It seemed to whisper to my nerves, stoke my breath, awaken that irrepressible thirst to understand, to dissect, to master. Each of these sections was a promise, a fragment of infinity that I could now bend to my will. I had to see. To know. To uncover everything this world could offer me to shape.
Without delay, driven by an irresistible impulse, my fingers brushed against the first category.
[SHOP I — Main Menu]
Currency: 30 souls
Select a category to display the items available for purchase.
Available categories:
[Fauna]
Creatures to add to the dungeon: terrestrial, aquatic, flying, etc.
[Flora]
Plants, mushrooms, brambles, flowers, trees, etc.
[Traps]
Active or passive defenses: mechanical, magical, or organic.
[Structures]
Rooms, galleries, walls, sanctuaries, control points, architectural elements.
The Shop opened like an ancient grimoire, revealing its secrets in four distinct categories. For now, only four… but I already sensed the promise of a future expansion, as if the system itself were only at the dawn of its possibilities. New purchases, still-sealed branches, dormant potentials… It was fascinating. Absolutely fascinating.
My eyes landed on a small, discreet indicator: 30 points. Thirty. Was that a lot? Too little? I had no idea. But at least I wasn't starting from nothing. In this sterile desert, where everything remained to be built, these few resources represented a glimmer, a lever, a base. It wasn't absolute emptiness.
I already knew, deep inside: this was where I would spend most of my time. This place of choices, of hesitation, of silent strategies. Here, I would weave the foundations of my ecosystem — a coherent, autonomous whole, but also defensive, capable of resisting intruders, future incursions. My first floor wouldn't be a fragile nest: it would be a rampart. A natural, deaf, but deadly machinery.
But all in good time.
Before building, I had to understand. Explore every corner of the interface, discover what it allowed me to do, grasp the scale of this gigantic mechanism now in my hands.
So, without waiting, I slid my fingers toward the second category.
[INVENTORY I — Main Access]
Stored items: 0/50
No item or entity is currently stored.Purchases made in the SHOP will appear here before being placed in the dungeon.
The Inventory opened like a stasis chamber. A calm, silent void, suspended outside of time. Here, all stored entities were frozen: they did not age, did not move, did not consume anything. Beings frozen in the moment, as if preserved in a breath of eternity. It was both reassuring and strange — a trap outside the vital flow.
I noted a capacity of fifty units. Fifty. Once again, as with the points, I had no reference to judge the value. Was it large? Narrow? I didn't know. But that mattered little for now. I had space. A margin. And that was already something.
Nothing else really deserved to be highlighted in this section for now. Little complexity. Few secrets. A simple function, but with strong potential. I already sensed its future utility: storing an endangered species, repositioning a key predator, or moving a fragile element to safety… A tactical reserve. A survival airlock.
I calmly closed the Inventory.
And prepared to discover the third category.
This time, it was Floor Management that opened before me, like a new layer of consciousness to explore, a fresh depth revealed in the architecture of my world.
[FLOOR MANAGEMENT I — Main Menu]
Select a floor to manage.Displays the complete map of the chosen floor, with present entities and a side panel of options.
Available floors:
[Floor 1]
(Other floors locked or not yet created)
Each floor had its own management, as if it obeyed its own laws, its own breath. This uniqueness opened up countless possibilities: as many distinct worlds to shape, as many unique biomes to invent, balance, defend. Each could become a fully-fledged ecosystem, autonomous, hostile or welcoming, according to my choices.
Then, with a calm yet impatient gesture, I clicked on [Floor 1] — the very first fragment of my future kingdom.
A map appeared immediately, emerging in a fluid, almost living motion. At the bottom of the screen, a discreet legend revealed its keys, like a secret language to decipher.
Interactive map displaying in real time:
Purple dot: Dungeon Core
Black dots: Dungeon entities (fauna, flora, assistants…)
Red dots: Intruders detected
And on the map, I saw them: two black dots, motionless, barely visible against the sterile background — one was the Scarecrow; the other, me. Not far from there, pulsing with a deep hue, the purple dot unmistakably designated the Dungeon Core.
We were there, at the absolute center. Right in the middle of this empty land, like a seed planted in the heart of nothingness, ready to sprout.
My gaze slid to the right of the map, where many options were listed, arranged like instruments in the shadow of a divine workshop.
Available options:
[Time Acceleration I]
Allows time to pass 20x faster on the floor.Disabled if an intruder is present.
[Temporary Storage I]
Transfers an entity or item to the inventory.Not usable on hostile entities.
[Teleportation I]
Allows teleportation to a controlled point on the floor.Disabled if an intruder is present.
[Terraforming I]
Physically modifies the terrain of the floor (relief, soil, etc.).Disabled if an intruder is present.Soul cost depends on scale.
It was sublime.
Literally. I stood there, like a god, facing a bare world I could bend to my will. A simple command allowed me to accelerate time, ignite the growth of entities, hasten the hatching of the ecosystem, as if each second were a season.
I could reshape the floor at will, mold the terrain like clay in my hands. Teleport, at a breath of thought. Store what I wanted, freeze life, suspend a being in silence.
All of it… that power, that absolute freedom — it was sublime. Yes, that was the word.
I was consumed with excitement at the idea of shaping this first floor, of giving it its own breath, its own living logic. Every fiber in me burned with impatience. But I knew: excitement is a strength, impatience, a trap.
So I refocused. I tamed the inner fire, smoothed my thoughts, and, with almost solemn discipline, moved on to the fourth category:
[FLOOR STATISTICS I — Main Menu]
Select a floor to consult population data.Displays a species distribution chart for the selected floor.
Available floors:
[Floor 1]
(Other floors locked)
As with the previous category, the organization was structured by floor — a clear, almost natural logic. Without delay, I clicked on [Floor 1], ready to dive into the raw data of my budding territory.
[FLOOR STATISTICS 1]
Species currently present on this floor:
Central Entity: God (dungeon controller)
Floor boss species: The Hollow Reaper
Woah. The realization hit me with almost dizzying intensity: I was truly considered a god here.
After all, what was impossible for me? I could reshape the terrain at will, accelerate time, teleport, manipulate life itself — create it, destroy it, suspend it. And I was immortal.
Yes… In every way, I definitely resembled a god.
By clicking on The Hollow Reaper, a graph opened before me. A simple, fluid curve, tracing the number of individuals over time.
Obviously, for the Scarecrow… and for myself, it had no value. Two fixed constants, without variation. But for other species… it would be invaluable. To observe their growth, their decline, the peaks, the crashes. To follow the evolution of a population, almost in real time. A cold, mathematical eye cast over the vitality of a developing ecosystem.
Yes… this category, I told myself, would be essential. A tool for monitoring, for regulation. A key to understand and maintain balance.
I found myself smiling.
Then I turned to the fifth category, my heart beating faster, for it too thrilled me deeply.
Something in it already vibrated with promises — of power, of evolution, of unknown to be tamed.
[UPGRADES I]
Select an upgrade to unlock.Each option enhances an existing system feature.
Available upgrades:
[Shop II
]Unlocks rare new items in each Shop category.Cost: 1000 souls
[Inventory II]
Increases max storage capacity by +10.Cost: 100 souls
[Floor Management II]
Improves floor management features (advanced options, increased control).Cost: 10,000 souls
[Floor Statistics II]
Enhances population graph with detailed info: presence duration, species dynamics, intruder activity.Cost: 10,000 souls
[Dungeon Core II]
Strengthens the core and grants access to Tier III upgrades.Cost: 15,000 souls
I had so much to do. Create ecosystems, shape them with care, improve them, balance them, make them autonomous, resilient… Each floor would become a living work, a microcosm designed down to its tiniest interactions.
As for the last category, it was there, visible but grayed out, inaccessible. Like a secret still sealed. Yet, an intuition struck me — the Underworld. That mysterious underworld the goddess had mentioned. I was almost certain that's where that closed door led.
And I already knew: when the time came, I would be able to open it.