Currently my status looks like this:
Name: Anthony
Leveclass="underline" 8 (core) (III)
Might: 41
Toughness: 29
Cunning: 32
Wilclass="underline" 22
HP: 50/50
MP: 45/58
Skills: Excavation Level 8 (II); Improved Acid Shot Level 5 (II); Enhanced Grip Level 1 (II); Shattering Bite Level 2 (III); Advanced Stealth Level 6 (II); Piercing Chomp Level 5 (II); Tunnel Map Level 3 (II); Mana Shaping Level 8 (II); Forceful Mana Level 4 (I); External Mana Manipulation Level 2 (I); Mana Sensing Level 4 (I); Core Engineering Level 2 (II); Advanced Exo-Skeleton Defence Level 3 (II); Pet Communication Level 2 (I)
Mutations: Focused Eyes +5; Infrared Antennae +5; Restrictive Acid Gland +5; Absorption Legs +5; Infused Mandibles +5; Diamond Carapace +5; Limb Regeneration Gland +5; Pheromone Language Gland +5; Deep Gravity Magic Gland +5
Species: Mind Ant (Formica)
Skill Points: 4
Biomass: 13
There’s been a few small improvements to my skills after all of the digging and fighting. The gradual improvement of my Mana skills is what has left me most pleased. Yapping at Tiny whenever I get bored has also helped improve my Pet Communication skill, which was an unexpected plus! I can hear him more clearly from a bit farther away now.
Ultimately though, I’m really hoping we hit the surface soon. I need a chance to take stock and plan the next course of action for myself and the colony. I can’t make any plans at all until I know what will greet us when we get up there.
Hopefully we wind up in a nice empty forest with no civilisation for hours in any direction. Then we could hide and ride out the wave.
I’ll keep my six sets of claws crossed!
According to the Tunnel Map, we should be relatively close to the surface. With such an important milestone approaching, I decide to share it with the queen, digging inexhaustibly beside me as always.
“I think we should reach the surface soon! It’ll be nice to stop digging for a change.”
“Yes, the family needs to rest,” the queen said without pausing in her work. “I hope no more children are lost as we dig.”
Even now she is still primarily worried about her children. I wonder if this is a learned personality or if the Dungeon creates every Queen Ant this way.
“Hopefully we won’t be attacked any more once we reach the surface and can take a breather,” I suggest, then, curious, “Do you know what the surface is?”
“No.”
“How do you know that it will be good for us to go there?”
“One of my children told me so.” I can almost hear laughter in her voice, as if suggesting her children could be wrong or incorrect in any way, or would mislead her, is simply not a situation that exists in her mind.
Maybe it doesn’t. What sort of ant would lie?
As I’m pondering that situation, my mandibles scrape something. Dammit! More stone… I’m sick of carving through this stuff, my face already hurts like it’s on fire!
Grumbling to myself, I start to channel Mana into my Infused Mandibles in order to tear through the stone a bit easier. The queen backs up slightly to give me more space at the front. When it comes to tearing through the rock, my mandibles outperform even hers a little bit. And to be honest, I think she secretly enjoys the break—she is the only member of the colony to not have a moment of torpor since the wave broke.
CRUNCH. CRUNCH. CRUNCH.
Working mechanically, my mandibles slam closed, easily ripping into the stone. Shorn off pieces crumble away, raining down on my face and bouncing off my carapace.
Kinda seems like these stones are giving way? Perhaps they’re just a bit loose.
They also seem quite regular for underground rocks…
Ah well.
CRUNCH. CRUNCH. CRUNCH. CLATTER!
After digging for a few more minutes, the stones suddenly fall around me, revealing an open space beyond.
Did we make it?
Excited, I force my head through the gap, pushing away the stones in order to get a better view.
Where are we?
What greets my eyes is a touch surprising. My compound vision ensures I get a complete picture at once.
We are inside what looks like a stone building with a high vaulted ceiling. On either side of me, long wooden chairs are arranged in rows, all facing the same direction. A crowd of people has recoiled on either side, pressing each other against the walls and looking at my ant face in horror.
All of this is shocking enough.
Just that would have been terrible.
But it’s not what seizes my attention.
Before me, at the front of the room, where all of the chairs are facing, is a pulpit with a robed figure pointing at me with powerful emotion twisting his face. And behind that man, is a statue.
That statue…
Is… Is that… Sir Ian McKellan?
Gandalf?
7. Cultural Exchange
There are so many things wrong with this situation.
In my peripheral, humans are pointing fingers, whispering fearfully in response to my intrusion. At the dais to the front of the chamber, the impressively robed figure recovers from his shock and launches into what sounds like a truly impassioned diatribe, full of furious gestures. The man is practically screaming in his fervour, spittle flying from his lips as he exhorts the crowd.
The people are beginning to respond to him, turning to listen, the fear gradually dropping from their faces. Their expressions changing from unease to a rapt attention, and then to something I could say is religious ecstasy.
Meanwhile, all I can think about is that stupid statue.
How the heck did they get those features so perfect?
It isn’t even Ian McKellan dressed up as Gandalf, as he did for the Lord of the Rings movies. It’s just Sir Ian, albeit with something of a beard. The statue is standing, wizened eyes and lined face depicting both wisdom that comes with age and the warmth of a kind soul. His arms are outstretched, one reaching forward in invitation, the other held out, as if gesturing to the wider world.
He’s wearing robes, which clearly fits with the character, and upon said robes are hundreds of lines of text, carved so small and intricate, I can only imagine the effort that went into producing such a sculpture.
So weird.
I’m aware other people from my world have come into this world as monsters. Is it possible some were reborn as humans? Perhaps one of them also recognised the voice as that of Gandalf and decided to jokingly use his image to found some sort of religion.
I mean, this is clearly a church of some kind. They even have the stained-glass windows, through which shine the faint rays of something I’ve barely experienced in this world. Sunlight! The windows are incredible though, each depicting a different scene which I assume relates to their faith.
In one are miserable humans working and fighting. Next to that is an image of Gandalf descending from above, words pouring from the cloth of his robe to fall upon a joyous populace. In other images are depicted dark creatures—monsters, I presume—emerging from the ground where they are met in battle by powerful and sturdy humans, lines of text exploding from each battle like special effects.