Level One God

Ever since discovering the hidden grommet tunnels, I had wondered where the hell the dirt went. As a kid who dug himself many pointless holes at the beach back on Earth, I knew every hole or tunnel created piles of material. It had to go somewhere, but in the case of these dungeon tunnels, the material seemed to disappear completely.

So where the hell was it all going?

I finally got my answer as I watched the grommet squadron dig the tunnel I had requested. They formed a brown, hairy carpet of rounded heads, each and every grommet working tirelessly. They womped a rhythmic song as they dug. I couldn’t say whether the sound served a purpose, like keeping time, or if it was only for their amusement.

The front diggers waddled at a slow and steady pace, noodly arms windmilling with dizzying speed. Each time one of their arms swung down, they snatched a handful of hard-packed dirt away from the wall. The dirt should have been difficult to move, but the grommets made it appear as soft as loose sand with their surprisingly powerful hands.

A rotating group of grommets shuffled behind the diggers, collecting the handfuls of dirt on the back end of the windmill motion, carrying it backward to a crew who packed the dirt into tightly formed balls.

There was no wasted motion in the whole operation. The diggers never stopped windmilling those spindly arms. The grabbers never interrupted the flow of the diggers as they precisely snatched the collected dirt from their hands. There were always enough grommets to dig, transport, and condense the dirt.

The secret of the work was the final crew of grommets, who took the condensed dirt and used it to build support columns.

It was amazing. They could compress the dirt so tightly that a few packed-in support columns removed the extra dirt and supported the tunnel.

The atmosphere of the working grommets wasn’t one of people doing a hard job. Instead, they all looked gleeful, like a mob of toddlers unleashed on a beach to dig holes for the sake of the dig. A sudden sense of confidence struck me. There were almost certainly gromvilles like this all over Eros. I imagined they spent a great deal of time digging in random directions for no reason but the joy of the dig. It made me wonder what sort of ecosystems must exist because of their seemingly pointless work. I imagined monsters or even civilizations finding the abandoned tunnels and underground spaces. There were probably plants and fungi that cropped up in these places, too, especially considering the amount of half-eaten roots and plants the grommets left in their wake.

From a purely scientific standpoint, I found the whole thing fascinating. On Earth, every creature seemed to fit like a puzzle piece into a larger picture of balance. I hadn’t been sure if it was the same here, but these little creatures made me see it was a fact of co-existence. Actions created opportunities, and life would find a way to take advantage of those opportunities.

It all gave me yet another motivational push to get out of here. There were undoubtedly more unique interactions between the creatures and people of this place. I wanted to see all of them.

Our group hung near the back of the operation, wanting to avoid getting in the way of the grommets.

Timbo’s role in all of this appeared to be shuffling behind the group, occasionally biting roots and rocks he found interesting along the way. For some reason, the grommets didn’t like finishing their food. They always took a few bites and dropped whatever they had gnawed on. Sometimes, they’d stuff it inside their hair to save for later use.

Ramzi and Thorn were speaking about their past lives as we walked. Both men sounded more tense beneath the somewhat casual conversation, making me wonder if they were only talking to calm their nerves. Sylara had been on edge since the fight with the Eclipsed, hardly speaking except when necessary. Zahra appeared to keep herself busy by watching the grommets’ operation with never-ending curiosity.

I wondered if the escaped slaves regretted where their journey had taken them. I felt sorry for them. They probably imagined the journey to getting enough power to survive would be difficult. I doubted they planned to cross paths with me and be dragged into my particular flavor of mess.

I would have told them to go on without me if I believed they'd listen. After all, I seriously doubted Rake cared about them. Chances were, they could slip out without being recognized. But I didn’t think they’d let me face Rake without their help. I also worried the sekmeti might be too recognizable. I didn’t feel completely confident Rake would let them pass.

In the end, they were stuck with us for now.

Lyria stayed by my side but wasn’t speaking much. While the grommets dug, I methodically tested out my abilities. I wanted to be sure none of my existing abilities interacted with the dark mana in unexpected ways. I also wanted to ensure I understood how to use my fusion abilities and my new Mana Bender active ability, Awaken Mana.

Lyria appeared content to watch my efforts, but was too concerned by her limited mana pool to join the impromptu training session.

To my relief, the dark mana was still behaving the same way. I could call on my abilities, just like always, and it let them pass through without interference. As I had suspected, I needed to open that “door” in my cores to let the dark mana out. Part of me wanted to test releasing a small amount of dark mana, but this was hardly the time to risk it. I doubted I had long before we would reach the spawning room, and I needed full control of my abilities. I didn’t know what we were about to find when we cracked open the wall of that chamber, and I wanted to be ready for anything.

For now, releasing dark mana would be a “pull in case of emergency” option if my life was in danger. Otherwise, I’d practice right before bed, when I could quickly use my bedroll to clear the dark mana from my body if things got out of hand.

After having a little while to digest the changes, I decided my new Mana Bender fusion class was more like a massive quality-of-life improvement than a fundamental change to my abilities.

But that didn’t mean I hadn’t gained new and powerful tools, too.

Some quick testing confirmed that Elemental Projection, now Elemental Chain, worked almost precisely the same from a procedure standpoint. I still pushed a thread of mana from my core into an element of my choice and then flooded it with mana to create the spell. The difference was that I could now focus on making it bounce once it landed, aiming it at three additional targets. As I suspected, that meant I could barrage the same target with an initial jet of elements, then arc it back onto them three more times, spreading the coverage significantly. I could also make it shoot off in the direction of my choice.

My control of the new function could have been better, but I knew I could improve with practice, and I looked forward to the opportunity.

If I ever had to attack someone far outside my range, I confirmed I could use the chain effect to bounce the spell along the ground, significantly extending the otherwise limited range. I could also quickly and precisely spread an elemental effect to a large group of targets. Like I had mentioned to Pebble, I could even use the ability to perform a kind of trick shot, bouncing it off a wall or even the ground to hit my target in the back. I doubted that use would matter a great deal, but if my enemy had a front-facing shield, it could still be an excellent move to have in mind.

For my coming fight with Rake, the most relevant part of the new ability would be clearing his shadow blood summons more quickly. Assuming I could use an element like Dragon’s Tail to kill them, the new function would give me a more precise way to take out large groups of shadows before they overwhelmed our group.

I hadn’t quite worked up the appropriate way to ask Lyria if I could smack her with a Mana Shield to trigger Leeching Surge, which would supposedly increase her mana regeneration by a portion of my own. Instead, I tested it on myself with a small drop of Viperlilly. Even though Voidgaze resisted the poison effect, I felt a cool rush of energy as soon as the spell touched my skin. I checked Voidgaze’s combat log and confirmed Leeching Surge had activated, boosting my mana regeneration speed.

Honestly, I was more excited about Leeching Surge for Lyria’s sake. Her stunted mana regeneration and mana pool were a serious handicap. However, Leeching Surge would boost her regeneration by a portion of my own, which would be further improved if I was also affected by the Leeching surge.

I couldn’t think of any safe way to test my new Mana Drain ability. I had to damage a target to drain mana from them, and I was currently surrounded by allies. I would have to hope it worked automatically like my other passives had.

Lyria’s Venting Wounds passive seemed to have some ability to be switched on and off, implying certain passives were not wholly automatic. But there wasn’t much I could do about it one way or another.

As usual, I was full of questions and short on answers.

My internal gamer always compelled me to save the best for last, even when it wasn’t strictly logical. I had been itching to try Awaken Mana, and now I had finally checked all the other questions off my list. It was time to see my new summoning skill in action.

“Last one,” I said, wiggling my eyebrows at Lyria.

Ahead of us, the rhythmic womp womp womp of the working grommets was oddly comforting. We sometimes passed the pillar builders, who sometimes gave a friendly “Hey, ho” as we passed, only to waddle past us a short while later to work on the next support for the tunnel.

“Is this the one where you summon another weird pet?” Lyria asked.

I had, after all, briefed her on all my new abilities. I couldn’t help myself. “Who says it’s going to be weird?” I asked.

“You’re summoning it. So I’m assuming it’s going to be something strange.”

I was about to argue, but I couldn’t help nodding. “I guess that’s fair.”

“Think you’ll be able to make it work?”

I scrunched up my face at her in mock outrage. “Nothing will stand between me and making a new weird pet. So, yes. I think I’ll figure it out.”

Lyria’s lips twitched. “Alright. Let’s see it, then.”

I smiled but wondered if her light mood was for show. There was a distinct heaviness over the rest of the group. For my part, I was trying to look calm and confident so none of them worried about what was coming.

A cold ball of fear had settled deep in my stomach ever since I realized there was no way out of here except getting through Rake. Advancing to Iron had made me even more aware of my large share of responsibility for the coming fight. I was our best weapon against him, meaning everybody’s life was in my hands.

I had noticed myself starting to lean less on the lessons learned on Earth, but this situation brought me back to my time working in the ambulance. I learned a fundamental truth pretty quickly in those days. Anxiety and excitement are almost identical feelings. Jittery muscles, racing thoughts, increased pulse, maybe even a touch of adrenaline… If I let myself think those symptoms meant I was worried or scared, I felt worried and scared. If I told myself I was just excited about the opportunity to put myself to the test, I could transform the same feeling into something good. Something I could use.

I tried the old trick as I walked at the back of the group with Lyria. Ahead of me, the scrape of digging grommets, the pat pat of dirt being compressed and shaped into pillars, and the low conversation of Ramzi and Thorn all faded to background noise.

I stopped feeling the muggy sweat rolling down my back or the tightness in my shoulders.

I took a deep breath, focused on the bundle of sensations in my body, and told myself I was excited. I told myself I was ready to face Rake, and I was happy I had the power to protect the people I cared about. That’s why my body felt this way, and I was glad for it.

It worked.

Mostly. I felt better, smiling a little as I moved my attention to the ability.

More and more, the mana within my body had started to feel like another set of appendages—slightly clumsy and sometimes entirely unresponsive appendages. The more I practiced, though, the more my control improved.

Like most spells, some experimentation was required to get Awaken Mana to work.

Lyria didn’t interrupt or speak as we walked slowly, easily keeping pace with the digging grommets ahead. I could feel her watching me, but the more I delved into the ability, the more my awareness of her evaporated.

I eventually discovered that activating Awaken Mana was very similar to activating Forge Echo. It was slightly more difficult without a physical object to reference. Instead, it felt as though I was pushing mana into a location and holding an idea of what role I wanted it to fill. There was another feeling like I was being forced to imagine the shape the ability should take. It felt vaguely like the ability wanted me to help it know what shape the summoned ally should take.

I tried to imagine something large, powerful, and capable. I pictured bulging muscles, heroic silhouettes, and glittering armor.

I was smiling as I imagined how blown away Lyria and the others would be if this worked. They’d see my new summon and realize we were about to stomp Rake into the dirt with its help.

Emerald light gathered on the ground, drawing a small gasp of surprise from Lyria.

I had focused on forming a Heart-based construct and…

The light popped and crackled, spreading as it seemed to yank a small figure into existence.

Dammit.

A caterpillar that must have weighed forty pounds materialized on the ground. It was thick, bulbous, and honestly not the most impressive thing I had ever seen. Its bulging green eyes pointed up at us expectantly. It had a cartoonishly big mouth full of sharp teeth. Its rounded head had two pointed green horns, almost like it wanted to match my helmet. A pair of wings that looked too small to hold up its pudgy body were positioned on its back. They were sparkly and multi-colored, almost like faerie wings.

I guess I needed to keep working on the massive, armored hero thing. Then again, a healer summon didn’t need to look impressive. As long as it could effectively heal, it was all good, right?

I waved at the little guy. “Hey there,” I said.

“Gods,” Lyria sighed. “Why is it a bug, Brynn? Why is it always bugs with you?”

“I mean… it’s kind of cute, right?”

“No…It’s hideous. And it looks like it will get stepped on when a fight starts.”

“Well, meet your new healing friend. I feel like he should have a name.” I gave a few moments of thought, then snapped my finger. “Caterpriest?”

Lyria shook her head. “I’m not calling it anything.”

“We’ll see how you feel when he’s patching you up in an emergency. Caterpriest will remember this.”

Caterpriest scurried up the tunnel's wall but fell and got stuck on his back. His hundreds of little legs squirmed uselessly as he couldn’t seem to flip himself over. I gave him a nudge with my boot and helped to right him.

Come on, man. I’m trying to talk you up. You could at least avoid looking helpless for a few minutes.

“I think your new ability is a dud,” Lyria said.

“Let’s see about that.” I braced myself for a moment of pain but remembered my new Iron boon would help me ignore it. I picked up a sharp rock and dragged a long cut across the top of my forearm. As expected, I was aware of the discomfort but hardly bothered by it.

Hell yeah. I could get used to this. I imagined a more painful injury would probably push the boon’s limits, but this was a start.

Caterpriest’s pudgy head perked up as soon as I drew blood. His wings flapped, miraculously lifting his bulging body. He drifted toward me jerkily, wings only barely keeping him afloat as he bobbed my way at precariously slow speeds.

He drifted in front of me with his eyes squeezed shut and his mouth pursed into a small circle of concentration. His rear end curled toward me like an upside-down, beckoning finger. And then… it fired.

Sticky ropes of emerald thread splattered on my arm, face, and chest. Caterpriest just kept spraying, absolutely covering me in the magically glowing stuff.

Thankfully, even the presence of my bug trophy didn’t mean I enjoyed the experience. It was disgusting, but I wouldn’t admit as much to Lyria. I wanted her to like the little guy.

And my wound did heal. The green, magical strings absorbed into my body with a warm rush of energy that lingered, making me feel like running a quick lap or busting out some push-ups. It was somewhat similar to the feeling I remembered of taking the Potion of Refreshment I used to have. So it’s like a heal and a buff? That made me wonder if Caterpriest had a full-blown class, complete with actives and passives, too. Or maybe he just had one skill for now, which has the side effect of refreshing energy?

I turned to Lyria, smiling and holding up two thumbs. “Hah,” I said. “Useless? Look at him go. That was awesome.”

Lyria’s face was twisted in disgust. “Did you see where he shot that stuff from? I think that was his ass.”

“Okay, but it worked. Just pretend he waved a magic wand or something. Really, are you going to turn down healing just because it came from Caterpriest’s magical ass?”

She shook her head, smiling slightly. “I think when we get out of here, we need to take that bug trophy out of your personal space and smash it into a thousand little pieces.”

“Nobody touches my trophies,” I said seriously.

Lyria rolled her eyes.

I was about to try Awaken Mana with another base class when a sudden sense of wrong struck me.

I paused mid-step, spinning around and fully expecting to see an enemy just behind us. I barely noticed as Caterpriest’s wings finally lost their battle against gravity, sending him crashing to the ground with a thump.

The grommet tunnel was empty and dark back the way we had come. There was no sign of an enemy, but still…

I couldn’t shake the feeling that something had changed.

I stared, sucking in heavy breaths as my heart hammered. I checked my dungeon map, confirming again that nothing was behind us.

“What is it?” Lyria asked. She had already drawn her sword and extended her Basilisk’s Shield.

Ramzi, Thorn, Sylara, and Zahra also picked up on the tension, turning to join me as I stared into the darkness, goosebumps rising on the back of my neck.

“It might be nothing,” I said. “I just…”

Sense Mana flashed a sudden alarm in my mind. Someone or something was targeting me with a hostile magic attack.