Chrysalis

Granin paced up and down in his chambers, mind buzzing. He’d thought that after centuries of living, nothing would surprise him anymore, yet here he was. Something glinted in the corner of his eye, and he caught himself in the mirror.

His second skin was as rough as ever, granite, plain and solid, covering his huge frame as it always had, though he thought he may have detected some crumbling in places. A closer inspection confirmed it was all in his mind.

“Not that old yet,” he rumbled to himself.

At least he hadn’t completely lost the vibrancy of youth. As he took in his own expression, he couldn’t deny the glittering excitement in his eyes. An Ancient in the making, his latest prospect, Anthony, had proven to be so much greater than he had believed possible. Despite being so against it himself, Anthony radiated with power and potential, and he would only get stronger from here on out.

His ant species had been such a detriment to him as he’d started, but now it was proving to be a powerful boost. The first tier seven ant in the history of the Dungeon was unimaginably more powerful than he’d thought possible. What about the first tier eight ant? Or tier nine?

Now that Anthony had completed his three part evolution, what would come to him next? Perhaps the Vestibule-Nave-Altar trio would be built on even more, further enhancing the Will he was able to draw from the Colony and how he could spend it? Or something else entirely?

The Gravity Mana that Anthony could control was incredibly deadly, though somewhat cumbersome. Perhaps his next evolution would lead him down that path, improving the mastery he had over that one, strange branch of mana.

Without realising it, Granin had begun to pace in his room, his stony brow furrowed. It wasn’t all smooth sailing for the proto-Ancient. His Skills were lacking, for one thing. Generally speaking, the accepted progression rate for Skills was for them to keep pace with evolution tier. That wasn’t obtainable for all Skills, of course, not for young monsters, anyway, so at the least a few core abilities should raise their ranks in pace with evolutions. Anthony didn’t reach that benchmark, not even close. He had so many Skills that needed to be raised, since he’d made himself such a generalist, that it was impossible to bring up everything he had to work on.

Perhaps Granin should work on a priority list for the big ant? Anthony would hate that sort of meddling. In fact, he seemed to hate organisation of any sort, but it may still be worth it. Gravity Mana specialisation was the most important by far, followed by Void Chomp and perhaps Dash. At least the Altar compensated by boosting the power of Skills, but if the effect only brought Anthony up to where he should be, it wasn’t working at its full potential. The sooner he had rank seven Skills and the ability to demonstrate the power of a rank eight, the better.

The golgari caught himself and chuckled wryly. If he kept pacing like this, he was going to wear a hole in the carpet, which would have been a shame. Intricately woven and embroidered, it was a work of art that he was trampling over with his stone covered feet. In fact, wasn’t that Anthony woven into the corners?

Obsessing over every little thing wouldn’t help, and if kept it up, he’d make a bad example for Torrina and Corun. The two of them had been frothing at the mouth since their last talk with Anthony, working themselves to death poring over documents and workshopping ideas. At least a little of that manic energy had come from Granin, he knew that, but being as close as they were to witnessing the birth of the 20th Ancient, who could blame them?

and he decided to go to bed. The Colony was right about a lot of things, and not working without proper sleep was a good one. If he turned up to the meeting in the morning refreshed and

size and weight of his stone-covered people. He eased back into the soft mattress with a sigh. Trying to push the buzzing thoughts of Ancients and

he began to

sleeping mind, Granin found himself in a pitch black room. Although, was it completely black? Overhead, there was a subtle light, a deep brown, like rich soil, it glowed ever

almost touch the ceiling, but it was long and wide. He peered into the distance as the light edged a touch brighter, emanating from the rock above all around him. He still

he squatted in place and ran a hand over it, barely able to make out any details in the faint light. Yes, there was a slight slope beneath his

That was odd.

ground sloped down beyond that, ending in the same

he standing on? Where

this point did Granin realise his dream was oddly lucid, and he felt a hint of danger touch his mind. Something was different. Something was very,

he told

at his stone covered arms for a second before he let

to fall, taking Granin with it. The sensation of dropping rapidly nauseated him, as he felt his guts rise into his chest, but his feet remained

minutes, but could have been seconds. All around him, he glimpsed enormous rivers of stone and earth, twisting around each other in the air, but it was so dark they may as well have been nothing. Was he bound in the roots of

What was happening?

the ground settling beneath his feet, Granin slumped on his hands and knees, trembling from head to toe. Total darkness enveloped him now, but he could hear something. The air shifted in the distance, as if a wall of wind were

wishing he could wake. Light blasted into his eyes and

weren’t coils, there were no scales, this was no snake. They were rings, he realised, interlocking rings of flesh. That’s what he’d been standing on, one of those rings. The drop had been the gap between one ring and the

surrounded by

The worm.

and pressed his