Chrysalis

I look over my options one last time before I confirm everything. I have to say, the ol’ status sheet is looking pretty darn good. A massive boost in stats, my brains becoming mutable, a heck of a lot more physical power and the benefits of expanding my Vestibule setup to become even more of an enduring powerhouse. I can hardly wait! Not to mention the slow process of reforging my body into something better than what I started with is quite exciting. It may only be the antennae and Vestibule so far, but eventually the whole body will be remade! We can make it better! Faster! Stronger! We have the technology!

Satisfied with what I see, I confirm the options and once more feel my consciousness falling into the now-familiar sinkhole of nothingness. The sensation of having your awareness circling the drain filled with a black void is a little disconcerting, I have to say. But as the saying goes, you can adapt to anything, so it's more of a detached fascination that I feel as I fall endlessly until I come into the presence of the great bearded one once more.

[I don't actually have a beard, you know.]

The voice echoes out into my mind, sounding mildly amused.

Look, Gandalf has a beard. Gandalf without a beard just isn't a thing. I don't think my mind could even comprehend it. Like… fire without heat or water without wet. If Gandalf didn't have a beard, would he even be Gandalf? Actually, this is getting deep…

[I am not this Gandalf that you keep calling me. You do realise that, don't you?]

Are you going to tell me your name this time?

[No.]

Gandalf you remain.

[… I suppose that's fair enough. In terms of the level of delusion those in your position usually possess, this is quite minor, all things considered.]

Yeah, that's a question I have actually. How many of my kind are actually kicking around down here?! Since the last time we spoke, I've met three. Three! It's not like I've covered a wide range of territory either, only a tiny sliver of the world! Are you snatching souls from Earth constantly? What's your deal, man?!

[The collection and injection of souls into the world is not something I handle directly. It is mere happenstance that your world aligns closely with this one. When a suitable soul is detected, it is drawn here and reborn into the Dungeon. It is simply a thing that is.]

'suitable' tends to mean 'a

surviving the transition to a monstrous form. The

like you

before the filter could determine who had the better chance of survival. The first generations of transplanted souls were… disappointing, to say the

describing people suffering

I said, it isn't something I control directly, it

Dungeon is filled with crazies, eh? So much more stable and easy to deal with. You weren't lying about Garralosh, by the

early promise, but her savagery was not tempered by cunning. She grew too fast, and did not hide her strength from those who would do her harm. Any monster that shows such rapid growth is marked with a target, something she failed to grasp until

on my back

perhaps. You have already drawn to your side those

You know about the cult? Or should I say,

on this world that is outside of my purview should I wish it

you would know all about the ancients and the stuff that they

rather smug

sound as if they want to break out

all the blanks for you? What reason would I

you're

a laugh out

and you yourself continue to rise from strength to strength. Your current path of evolution has you on a powerful trajectory. I am curious, however, if you are so comfortable tying so much of strength

If they all die, it's not like I'm going

[…]

…

[Why?]