Time.
It's meaningless in the depths of stone and mana, but I'm vaguely aware of its passing. My sleep was restful—more than restful, it was restorative. I no longer felt hollow or barely aware. Mana pulsed within me, like an invisible tide that surges and breathes through my crystalline body.
"I'm back baby!" I think, and the very notion echoes within the chamber of my core. My thoughts are clearer now. Brighter. Sharper. Like the difference between a fogged-up mirror and clean glass.
I pulse once, a natural instinct, and my core glows a gentle indigo from within. I can feel the mana again, full and replenished.
"Okay. First lesson… don't burn through all my mana again." I mentally shutter
The memory of draining myself to unconsciousness comes with no pain—only an echoing sense of caution. Whatever I've become, I'm still bound by the laws of this new body. And mana, it seems, is my lifeblood. While I might not have been injured this time, who knows if that's always the case, at bare minimum I was still defenseless.
I turn my awareness inward. Not metaphorically—literally. My crystalline consciousness flexes inward and examines the flow of energy that now defines my very being.
Inside, a swirling pool of light churns in a hypnotic spiral. Deep indigo and violet hues, tinged with traces of silver. Mana. My mana. Not random wild energy that I had no control over back on Earth, but something responsive to my thoughts. To my will.
"So this is my core," I muse. "Like a mana heart from dragons in those fantasy novels."
I continue to observe it with growing fascination. I can sense it moving through the dungeon flesh—powering my tendrils, feeding my awareness. I imagine it like an engine, but unlike any engine on Earth.
I turn my perception outward, gazing at myself from this strange 3D view I seem to have. My core seems to have grown a bit while I was.. Indisposed. I'm a bit less gagged too. My black as onyx gemlike appearance stands out even in the almost perfect darkness. Below my flat bottomed core is a network of black, pulsating tendrils interlaced within the stone constantly branching out.
I exhale—not with lungs, but with purpose.
Mana pours outward from my crystal heart and into the dungeon flesh I've spread through the stone. As it escapes, something shifts. Where before my perception only extended inches beyond my flesh into surrounding rock, now it explodes outward.
Vision—not with eyes, but with some kind of new… mana-sense—spreads through the cavern beyond.
"Whoa."
Where before the darkness was complete, now it's revealed in shimmering layers. The cavern stretches dozens of meters in all directions. Glimmering particles of mana float lazily in the air like dust motes caught in a sunbeam. Walls are jagged with broken stone and mineral veins, and long-dead mining tools litter the floor in rusted pieces.
I see it all. Mana has given me sight beyond physical form.
"This place… it was a mine," I muse, my thoughts growing sharper, more precise. "But not just for metal. These stone fragments… they contain mana!"
Indeed, embedded in the cavern walls are tiny, glinting blue shards. Mana Stones—residual fragments of whatever was once harvested here long ago.
I shift my attention. In a high crevice of the ceiling, shadows flutter.
Bats.
Hundreds, thousands or more, hanging still and silent. Some twitch. A few crawl slightly along the stone, wings tucked tight to their bodies. They don't react to my mana at all.
"They didn't flee when I moved into the shaft with my tendrils earlier. It doesn't look like I can be perceived easily."
I focus. The dungeon flesh extending through stone now begins to move again—slowly, deliberately. Instead of blindly pushing, I now shape it with intention. Thin tendrils slide into the air of the cavern, spreading like roots in search of light.
The bats don't notice.
I can't feel heat or touch, but mana-based perception fills in the blanks. I can sense the bats. Their warmth, the flow of blood, the mana drifting in and out of their tiny forms like faint auras.
I pause.
Below the roosts, the cavern floor is littered with old guano. Dried, cracked, decomposing piles of it. Even in death, matter remains. Decay is just another form of transformation.
"Thank god I can't smell, I still recall that old Dirty Jobs episode when Mike assisted a bat biologist. Even he couldn't stand it for long" I cringe inwardly.
I move my thoughts to better things. "It seems I've been passively absorbing matter when I was expanding and mana while unconscious," I realize. "But what if I do it on purpose?"
With a force of will, I began absorbing sections of stone around my existing tendrils. "It seems the mana cost is linear at least, it would be very annoying to expend en mass otherwise."
Curious, I extend my flesh into the muck below next.
Immediately recoiling the tendril, I curse mentally, "Fuck! Fuck All! How did I forget I could taste with these stupid tendrils?!" I gag and rage in my mind.
"There is no way this is normal, even for a dungeon core…" I groan.
Realization strikes. Most aspects of my new being are controlled by force of will. Maybe… just maybe, I can will the sense of taste to only function close to my core.
With considerable effort of will, I strain in my mind, willing for the change to take hold. Feeling like I am about to shit I keep pushing. All of a sudden, I feel something shift within myself.
I lose all sense of taste, an entire sense just gone.
It's an eerie feeling, but I know instinctively I can now more easily will it back into my being if I need to.
"Alright, back to the task at hand… let's try this again."
Slowly, a tentacle extends into the black goop. Realizing things worked out as I intended, many others extend as well, delving deep into the decaying matter.
Then I will the matter and mana to be converted and absorbed. The reaction is immediate. Like drawing air into lungs after drowning. Unlike when absorbing stone, it seems organic matter can generate mana instead of having to expend it.
Mana flows. Not fast—just a slow, steady trickle. Poop is likely not a good source of organic matter… Even so, my dungeon flesh pulses with warmth, nutrients, and energy. But more than that… information.
My mind lights up.
"What the hell—?!"
There's no confusion, no static. Data enters my mind, but it isn't like reading a book. It's like understanding a structure by becoming it. Molecular chains, bone composition, cellular functions—I know them.
The entire biological makeup of a bat unravels in my mind like a blueprint file loading into a database.
"Cranial bone density… echolocation mechanism… wing membrane elasticity… fur pattern distribution… this is…" I trail off, overwhelmed and fascinated. "It's all just there for me to recall freely…"
"I've never had the best memory, but such an ability was simply godly! I guess it was true that crystals were the ultimate method of data storage."
Somewhere in the stone room that encases me, my crystalline core pulses with increasing light.
I turn to a nearby bat corpse, long-dead but mummified by the dry air. My flesh engulfs it slowly, and again, mana and data flow in.
"Well, it's confirmed. I can absorb both organic material and residual mana." I pulse with satisfaction. "Efficient. Very efficient. I can feel myself… growing?"
"Yup, growing. It's miniscule, but a millimeter or so of new crystal was appearing on my core, increasing my size and mana capacity."
"It seems like I just need to condense mana into a crystal form to build and strengthen myself."
It's clear the bats have resided here for a very long time based on the sheer quantity of guano.
I push further into the foul pool, drawing in piles of guano and desiccated remains. It isn't much in the grand scheme of things—but each absorbed fragment adds to me. Replenishes mana. Reinforces flesh. It's even expanding my memory and processing power.
I realize now how sluggish my thoughts originally were when I first awoke.
Back to the mana though! More importantly… I can now direct it instead of just letting it flow.
For the first time, I feel my thoughts come faster. Cleaner. My crystalline brain is beginning to show its true nature.
"No fatigue. No forgetfulness. My memory… is perfect. Man, I wish I had this ability back on Earth. Studying for exams, certifications, and even remembering names or directions would have been so easy!" I quietly lament to myself.
Every bat. Every cell. Every detail I absorb is retained with crystal clarity.
Instincts flare. "I could build one, if I wanted," I think.. my thoughts turning speculative. "I could make a creature out of this. If I had enough time and mana, I could replicate it exactly. But not yet..."
No, not yet. For now, it's just knowledge, and I have more to do.
The mana trickle continued as I absorbed tiny mana stones hidden within the surrounding walls. Fragmented, low-grade I assume, and ancient—but even these crumbs add to my growing pool.
I look inward again.
My mana pool has grown. Visibly. The swirling lines within my crystal have brightened and thickened— forming a vortex.
"I'm not just surviving anymore," I think, reverent. "I'm… advancing? How far can I grow in this world? Will it be like one of the fantasy novels I've read in the past? It doesn't seem impossible seeing what had happened already on Earth and how I got here."
There's a strange satisfaction in understanding myself. In using logic, method, and analysis to make sense of a body and world completely alien to me.
"I might be lost. But I'm not helpless. I'm still me. And unlike how I assume a normal dungeon would act, I've got my Earthly memories thankfully. I can plan, I can wait, I can survive."
That realization is a small anchor in the storm.
I extend more flesh through the cavern walls, moving carefully now, deliberately avoiding collapse points and ancient mine reinforcements. My senses spread further—mapping out the terrain, searching for more resources.
But already, my mana is beginning to strain again.
"Right. Right. Lesson number one." I wince mentally. "Don't burn all my mana."
I stop extending myself and focus on absorbing the ambient mana in the cavern's atmosphere and walls.
"So I can't push endlessly. There's a limit. But each time I goof up… I learn something."
I sit in silence for a while. Not because I need to—but because I can. I was a bit of a loner and introvert in my past life, so this isn't torture just yet. But I know from documentaries that people can only stay sane in pure isolation for so long… I'll have to reach the surface, to find something to anchor my mind better than a dark cave and bat shit. I want to see the sky again, or at least some plants and animals. "Ahh, I'd like to have a pet again…"
For having a perfect memory now, I sure get side tracked quickly… I'm not sure if I need sleep anymore. My crystalline brain doesn't fatigue, and my mana core doesn't flicker. But something instinctive within me suggests rest. Stillness. Time to process.
So I do.
I let the cavern grow quiet again. I watch the bats sleep, safe and undisturbed. I let the slow dance of mana drift through the air, painting glowing arcs across my extended perception.
"This world…" I whisper into my own mind. "It's going to be mine. But not through conquest. Through understanding. There is so much to learn and record. I'm not sure I like this… body? But it certainly has advantages."
And with that final thought, I let myself drift—not into sleep, but into stillness.
A dungeon, resting. Growing. Watching.