Chrysalis

I strain. I push. I fight with every fibre of muscle and every strand of brain matter to get my body to move forward! Nothing. As an experiment I try to move backwards and find no resistance, but once I move forward again, no dice. I'm frozen in place as long as I attempt to move forward.

This is crazy! The Dungeon is basically refusing to let me walk forwards?! Are you telling me I don't have control of my own limbs?

Dammit, Gandalf! Get your scrawny wizard backside out here and explain this. I won't take another step until this unpleasant phenomenon is spelled out to me. I mean… I can't take another step… but that's not the point!

[Master? Is everything alright?]

I realise then that my comrades have been watching me skuttle backwards and forwards, straining against an invisible barrier in front of the gate for over a minute now. I can imagine it doesn't look at all that sane, prompting Crinis to check in with me.

[I, uh, seem to be experiencing technical difficulties?] I reply.

Crinis is confused.

[I'm not sure what you mean. Is there a problem?]

[In a sense. I can't walk forward.]

[You can't?] She extends a tentacle forward toward the gate and meets no resistance. [I don't think anything is there?]

[This is a little hard to explain. It feels like the Dungeon itself is preventing me from going through the gate. As if it refuses to let me move somewhere that's going to take me up a stratum.]

[The Dungeon isn't letting you move?]

[Yeah, it sounds weird, I know.]

[CONTEMPTIBLE DUNGEON! UNHAND THE MASTER!]

Exploding with wrath, the tentacled shadow-mass unleashes her fury upon the Dungeon. In the literal sense. Stones fly and the bark beneath us splinters as Crinish lashes out blindly. Tiny, witnessing this chaos, naturally does the first thing that pops into his head, which is to join in. Chunks of wood start flying everywhere as the giant ape joyously smashes his mighty fists into the root beneath his feet.

both of you.

rattle and hiss in fury as my two friends restrain themselves, Tiny much more reluctantly than Crinis. A Grove Keeper stomps over, a rare expression of anger plastered on his face. I reach out to him with

mean to attack the

Grove Keeper one bit

attack so

get your logs soggy,] I retort, [besides, since you're here

she help you?] the

dead if I

can say to that. Still bristling with anger the Grove Keeper turns toward the bushes and engages in another rustling

most displeased at her roots being disturbed. What is

the gate. Does she have any

Dungeon,

crazy, I get it. Talk to the tree would

more than I'm letting on. Not being able to go back up a stratum is one thing, I kind of expected that to happen as I kept evolving, but this constant tug dragging me downwards is something else entirely. Now that I'm aware of it, I'm starting to think

was so eager and reckless when

monsters have felt it at one time or another, even Mother for a brief time. She believes that any monster with the potential to become the final Ancient is called

you serious? Does this mean the Dungeon itself has acknowledged me or something? I don't want it, the Dungeon can get

herself? But doesn't

is an

current form, sacrificing much of her potential to be able to create us,

on some useless options during an evolution I won't have to put up with

[Hmmm. Useless?]

You know what I meant! Useless in the 'becoming an Ancient' sense. I

a long look before he confers

to say on

totally

down with an antenna as they start to extend past me to throttle the Keeper as he turns to

[Ha-ha! Friends!]