Dungeon of Chance: Even Odds: A Dungeon Core Novel (Serious Probabilities Book 1) Read online

  The deafening noises of the attacks were only worsened from the shouts of anger and pain from the Ogress, and Clay fell on his face twice when the monster’s club slammed down, trying to kill the Heroes. He didn’t know if the Ogress had succeeded in killing anyone yet, but a break in the houses along the town’s outer perimeter allowed him to see a huddle of more Heroes sending out flashes of bright white-yellow light towards the battle, which he recognized as a light indicating healing. Healers were the only Class allowed to use their abilities in limited quantities outside of dungeons, and he vaguely remembered seeing a healing being performed in Renton when he was very young. The light looked exactly the same as it had back then, though there was so much more of it going on.

  Tearing his gaze away from the battle, while doing his best to keep his suddenly full bladder from emptying in terror as he basically ran toward danger, Clay finally ducked between two houses and ran inside the town proper. Their store was only two streets over, which meant vaulting a small fence surrounding someone’s back yard (twice) before he got within view. Just as he burst out into the cobblestone street, he saw Nina disappear into the front door of their store. Almost caught up to her…

  His lungs were burning by the time he got inside, and he had to put his hands on his knees to catch his breath for a moment. “Nina! Where are you? We have to go!”

  “Clay? Help me look for Spark – I can’t find him!” he heard shouted back at him from upstairs.

  “Leave the stupid cat! He probably ran away from the giant monster right outside, which is exactly what we should be doing!”

  “No! He’s got to be here some—aaah!” she was saying, but Clay was having none of it. He had recovered enough to race upstairs and grab his sister, picking her up and throwing her over his shoulder. The last few years of packing and delivering heavy loads had strengthened his muscles considerably, but it was hard to keep ahold of a squirming 10-year old. “Put me down!”

  “We’re leaving, Nina! Your cat will likely be perfectly fine even if the Ogress tramples Renton; we, however, will not.” He rushed downstairs and ran towards the door, when another quake seemed to shake the entire world. Clay stumbled, fell, and ended up launching his sister ahead of him and out the door. He was getting to his feet when he saw Nina look back at him with anger, though her eyes quickly widened so far he thought they were going to pop out of her head.

  “Clay, move!” she shouted, but he could tell it was already too late. Some shouted celebrations – likely from the Heroes fighting the monster – were the last things he heard as a shadow fell over the front of the store. Nina backed up out of the way, but Clay wasn’t as lucky.

  The Giant Ogress had been defeated, but as she collapsed in death, she fell over on her front side, flattening half of Renton as the massive monster fell. Nina was hurled away at the impact even as Clay was flattened to an unrecognizable pulp, the young girl knocked unconscious but otherwise okay. Within moments of the last of the Ogress’ death throes being played out, she disappeared in an explosion of multicolored light motes that seemed to float away into nothingness, leaving behind a half-destroyed town where she had fallen.

  And from the front yard of the house next door to the general store, came a black and red cat, sniffing his way over to his destroyed home. It happened upon the remains of the poor young man that used to live in the building; and since the cat didn’t like him, he lifted his leg like a dog marking its territory, peed onto the flesh and blood that used to be Clay, and then trotted off in a good mood, looking for the girl that gave him such wonderful scratches.

  * * *

  Stupid, blasted cat! Even when I’m dead that thing can’t help but torment me—wait…I’m really dead, aren’t I? Clay’s world had gone blank the moment the building and who knew how many tons of dead Giant Ogress slammed down on his body, turning it into a paste that was entirely unrecognizable. And he had seen it underneath the mass of the disgusting monster, too, because his “blankness” hadn’t lasted long; a second or so after his life ceased to be, his awareness came back above the now-destroyed town, where he could look around him with just a thought.

  Is this my…soul? he had pondered, but nothing had really answered him. He instinctively knew how to look around the town, and he quickly found his sister where she had been blown out of the way from the impact of a 250-foot Giant Ogress crashing down only feet away from her. He was instantly relieved to see that she didn’t appear to be seriously hurt; she was unconscious, but still breathing. That was honestly the best that they could hope for, and looking around at the celebrating Heroes, he knew she could get healed up quite quickly by them. His own body, however, was just…done.

  Clay watched as the monster’s form seemed to disappear right before his eyes—do souls have eyes?—and he found his remains amid the wreckage of their store, the only home he had ever known. He thought that he would’ve felt…something…when he saw his dead body, but it had been so flattened and torn apart by the building being slammed into him that there was nothing he recognized. It was like looking at a pile of blood and flesh that didn’t really fit together; disgusting, certainly, but he didn’t feel any sadness or sorrow at seeing it.

  What he did feel sadness over was never seeing his family again. Well, not in any meaningful way, of course, because he was seeing his sister right now and…with a thought, he was looking at the evacuees on the road, who were already heading back to town. His mother was traveling with them, moving as fast as she could, tears running down her face in worry. He felt horrible about leaving her right now, especially with the destruction of their store. At least I was able to save Nina….

  Thoughts of his sister caused his viewpoint to transfer back to her still form, but he wasn’t too worried; he saw that one of the Heroes had already seen her lying there and was calling for a Healer. While he was glad that she had survived, and while he didn’t blame her for his death, Clay just wished that she had just left Spark there in town, because at that moment he was probably sunning himself halfway across the town without a care in the world—

  The next second, he spotted the black and red-spotted cat peeing on what he estimated used to be his face. His anger rose to a crescendo, and all he wanted to do was wrap his insubstantial and non-existent fingers around the cat…but he let the anger slowly leak out of him like a pierced waterskin. Hating a cat for being a cat was a fruitless endeavor, and he’d rather not leave his last few moments of the world with hatred in his heart…even if the cat seemed like he was half-demon at times. It was at that point that he finally acknowledged his own demise, as before it had seemed somehow surreal.

  Goodbye, Nina. Goodbye, Mother. Goodbye, Father. At the thought of his Father, Clay abruptly found his viewpoint whipping through the world until it settled on a small warehouse dozens of miles away. His father was there, entirely oblivious to what had just happened to Clay and their store, negotiating a deal with a maker of various leather goods. Clay wished he could’ve seen him in person one more time, given him a hug to tell him how much he appreciated everything he had ever taught him about being a man…but it was too late for that. It was time to move on to the afterlife, where everyone’s souls ended up after they died, waiting for a time when they could be reborn into the world. At least, that was what he had been taught.

  But…nothing happened. I’m ready! Take me away! Nothing seemed to answer, nor was there any type of light that supposedly awaited souls to take them to the afterlife. What do I do—?

  Suddenly, there was a wrenching of his vision as he felt something ripping at his soul. It felt like someone had taken knives and was chopping his ethereal spirit into pieces, before gathering them up and shoving them into a deep, dark hole. He tried to scream in pain, imagined or otherwise, but nothing seemed to erupt from his consciousness; instead, it was as if his thoughts just drifted into an endless void. And then abruptly, as quickly as it had come upon him, the pain and horrible sensations he had felt faded away in an instant.


  The deep, dark hole was still there, but it turned out to be just his imagination. He opened his “eyes” and looked around, seeing that he was inside a small rocky cave…somewhere. I’ll just go back to my family and—

  Clay tried to move his viewpoint back to his mother and Nina, but it slammed up against the wall of the cave and wouldn’t move any further. He tried going a different direction and was stymied by every inch of the rocky walls of his prison – I can’t get out! All of that pain and now this? Is this some sort of punishment?

  “Oh, quit your whining. I’m sure you’ve felt much worse dying inside of a dungeon, and it didn’t even last that long!”

  At the sound of a voice, Clay whipped his viewpoint around, seeing the entire cave for the first time. In the center of the cave was a tiny red gem floating in the air, suspended by some sort of mysterious means he couldn’t fathom. And next to the red gem was…a dragon!

  “I’m not a dragon, though I do appreciate you thinking me of one. I am a dragonling, though – so, fairly close. A baby dragonling, not like the ones you’ve seen in dungeons before; I’m so much smaller than they are, and I’ll stay this size forever.”

  The dragon is talking! What is going on?

  “Again, I’m not a full dragon—oh, never mind,” the dragon responded, as if it were reading his thoughts, looking directly at the red gem in the center of the room. The deep-red colored, scaled, and winged lizard was flapping its wings leisurely, easily keeping itself aloft as it stared at the gem like it was going to eat it. “What I am isn’t important. What is important is that I’m here to help you get acclimated to your new job. I’m Dwight, by the way. What’s your name?”

  Dwight? What kind of name is that for a dragon?

  The dragon *hmphed* and a small spark of a flame burst out of its mouth. “For the last time, I’m not a dragon. I’m a baby dragonling and I was designed to take the appearance of a monster that looks fierce but is actually quite gentle, so as to help Heroes acclimate to their new life as a Dungeon Core. Oh, and DWIGHT is actually an acronym for Diminutive and Winged Interactive Guide, Helper, and Teacher. That’s essentially what I am: your Guide as you transition to your current state.”

  Clay was speechless and his thoughts had ground to a halt. Much of what the dragon was saying was unfamiliar to him, but he at least knew what Heroes were. When he could finally put some thoughts together, he thought towards the dragon, hoping it would hear him since he hadn’t found a way to speak otherwise. Yet, at least.

  You said that you help Heroes acclimate to their new life as a…Dungeon Core? We’ll get back to what exactly that is in a moment; but I have to tell you, I am not now nor ever was a Hero.

  “Impossible,” the dragon said immediately, and it was only when Clay was looking at its mouth as it spoke that he realized that the sound wasn’t actually coming from its mouth – but was directly implanted in his mind. Freaky. “The only souls that inhabit Dungeon Cores are those of Heroes that fall in defense against a World Threat. So, as you are obviously here, then you must be a Hero.”

  While he could sort of consider himself a “hero” for saving his sister from the same fate that befell him, Clay could hear the emphasis on the word Hero that the dragon was talking about. They were two different things; one was a title given to normal people who performed actions that could be considered “heroic”; the other was an individual who absorbed a Tier 0 Class Orb to become a Hero – and that was about all Clay knew about the subject of Heroes. He knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that he wasn’t a “Hero”.

  Unfortunately, someone must have messed up. I think I was supposed to move on to the afterlife, not end up here as a…Dungeon Core, whatever that is. So, if you could kindly send me on my way, I would appreciate it.

  “There is no way to send on a soul that has been recreated as a Dungeon Core. Your soul is no longer recognizable as a Human soul, so you will no longer be transferred to the afterlife. This is your life now.”

  Clay couldn’t believe it. Some mistake had landed him as this Dungeon Core thing, and now he’d never be able to move on. Anger surged up in him again, though it wasn’t directed toward Dwight or whoever messed up and put him there by mistake; no, he was mad at a black and red-spotted cat.

  Blast you, demon cat! Your torment knows no end!

  And then, despite not having done it since he was a young child, Clay wept internally, sorrow finally filling him as he acknowledged what had been done to him…and what had been taken away.

  Chapter 3

  Clay wasn’t aware of the passing of time in his current form, but he figured it had been at least a month of internal weeping at his fate. The extreme length of his weepiness was only overshadowed by the fact that he apparently didn’t need to sleep—

  “It has been a total of 6 minutes and 34 seconds since you started to sob uncontrollably inside your Core.”

  What? That was impossible. It felt like it had been even longer than a month to him – not just a few minutes. Regardless, his temporary depression over his current state seemed to have passed; of course, Clay was still angry at what had happened to his soul, so he took it out on the only thing he could. Yeah, and who asked you? Why don’t you just leave me alone?

  “No one asked me, I’m here to help guide you and teach you in your new stage of life. As to your second question: No, I can’t leave you alone, because I am intrinsically a part of you.”

  That made Clay pause in his scathing reply. A…part of me? What does that even mean?

  “It means that I’m not actually here; I’m an internal component of a new Dungeon Core, and only appear as an image to your mind,” Dwight, the baby dragonling, responded. “And before you go trying to turn me off, I have to let you know that until you reach Core Stage 20, I will remain visible and audible to your senses at all times. If you reach that point, however, you can decide on whether to discontinue my services…but until then, you’re stuck with me. Get used to it.”

  Clay was still livid, but knowing he was being unfair to Dwight, he…sort of…apologized. Oh. Okay. Fine with me, I guess.

  He was quite aware that it was a pretty lame apology, if it could even be considered one without actually saying sorry, but he didn’t want to argue with a figment of his imagination that was destined to stick with him until whatever this “Core Stage 20” was.

  “Again, I’m not a figment of your imagination – I’m a part of your Dungeon Core.” The dragon—dragonling—flapped its wings angrily, letting out a tiny jet of flames and a puff of smoke at the same time. “Which brings me back to your job. Are you ready to listen, or are you going to continue arguing with me?”

  Clay couldn’t help but think that Dwight sounded a lot like his mother when he was younger and didn’t like to listen to her explain his duties in the store. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to listen to her, but he had been quite immature and wanted to play outside instead of working. Looking back, the “work” was just a series of simple tasks that would’ve taken him at most 15 minutes to complete, but when he was 6 years old it seemed to take forever. His mother would get mad at his inattention, though she wouldn’t yell at him; instead, she would speak in a low, soft voice that he immediately knew was something he should pay attention to or else he’d get into real trouble.

  In fact, the tone of voice was similar enough that he had a thought. Hey, are you a…girl? It didn’t actually sound like his mother, but the tone was distinct enough that he couldn’t help but think that was the case.

  “Obviously, I’m not a girl. I am, however, female,” Dwight, the female baby dragonling, said matter-of-factly. “I would think that would be common knowledge to all Heroes; monsters – one of which I am patterned after – that are found inside of dungeons are always female.”

  That was certainly news to Clay. Instead of reiterating that he wasn’t a Hero, he instead asked why he was there in the first place, if only Heroes were supposed to be shoved into this “Dungeon Core” thingy.

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; “Heroes have an intrinsic knowledge of how the dungeons they grind through operate at a base level, so they are uniquely qualified to run one themselves. It has been this way for as long as there have been Humans and Heroes, though this relationship between Heroes and Dungeon Cores is not something that is shared with Humans, for reasons I will go into later.

  “As for why you, I have no idea. The highest-Tiered Hero that perished during a World Threat attack should have been the one here instead of you. This makes no sense.”

  Thinking back on what he had seen of the battle – which wasn’t a whole lot, since it had mainly taken place outside of Renton – a theory emerged in Clay’s mind, but he wasn’t sure if it was wholly correct. And what would happen if no Heroes died during the attack?

  “That is extremely unlikely, as at least one Hero always dies while repelling a World Threat. The monsters that they fight are much too powerful for there to be no casualties. It is their duty and reason for existing, after all.”

  To…die?

  “Of course not. Their duty is to keep the rest of the world safe; sacrificing themselves for the greater good so as to ensure that safety is a well-known caveat of becoming a Hero. How do you not know this?”

  Uh…because I’m not a Hero? That would explain a lot, wouldn’t you think?

  “B-But—” The baby dragonling’s speech began to sputter as she began to work through all of the information; it showed Clay that Dwight wasn’t just a set of instructions inside of a Dungeon Core designed to help him, but was actually a personality that could reason and think. “Hmmm. If you are correct and not a single Hero died during the attack, then that would make sense that you might have taken the slot open at the time. This isn’t good.”