The Coreless turned to look at me as one, taking in the splendor of my accomplishment. I glowed with mana-light, my scale-flesh covered in the same shades as the ore-flesh around which I wrapped.

They each made their own noises of what I assumed to be praise and astonishment. Wait...that wasn’t right. They could see me. I was supposed to be blending in.

I twisted about myself, examining my scale-flesh.

It looked as I expected it to; I was tinged a shade of gray that matched the ore-flesh around me, with the same mana-glow the female Coreless’ ore-flesh held.

And then I realized the problem.

It was obvious, once I saw it. It was also extremely, extremely frustrating. The parts of myself that were not wrapped around the ore-flesh were even easier to pick out in the darkness, glowing with false mana-light that drew the eye.

Using [Illusion Spark] to hide myself would be harder than I thought. It wouldn’t be too bad if I was still, and if I was able to make sure my scale-flesh stayed pressed against what I was concealing myself against.

But the moment that I moved away from what I was copying, I became much easier to see.

Which led to now. My head, bobbing happily in the air as it had been, was highlighted against the darkness of the tunnel behind me. That needed to change.

I focused, drawing away the light around my head-scales, shifting it back to a smooth black while matching the rest of my scale-flesh with the ore-flesh upon which I twined.

That was a little harder, managing multiple sections and colorations at once, but I managed.

As long as I didn’t move too much, anyway.

Still, it was better than nothing. More importantly, I could improve. The Great Core had shown me the way. Next time, I would do better.

With the Great Core’s aid and protection, there would always be a next time.

As long as I proved worthy of it.

My thoughts were broken by the babbles of the Coreless once more. Only the other sounds that I had begun to hear prevented me from hissing in response.

The bubbling of fire-water, and the distinctive hiss that it gave off as it pressed against cooler stone.

The click-clacking of mandibles that whispered from the small-tunnels around us.

The Flame Formicans had taken another route - and they were catching up.

It didn’t take long for the Coreless to come to some sort of agreement. I may not have been able to understand the way that they jabbered back and forth, but I certainly understood when they picked up the pace tremendously. Whereas before we had moved at a far more leisurely speed, relying on the longer legs of the Coreless to break away from the pursuing bad-things, that method had proven a failure - not because they had moved too slowly, but because they did not have access to the small-tunnel shortcuts that the bad-things had been able to take.

Whereas our path had been a series of curves and winding tunnels, I knew that the pervasive small-tunnels of the World Dungeon could offer far better alternatives - especially for something that was familiar with them in the way that the Flame Formicans would be.

It was almost enough to tempt me to abandon the Coreless here, to forge my own path through the wall-cracks and small-tunnels. More than likely, the bad-things would be drawn to the Coreless first, allowing me to escape. With my increasing grasp on [Illusion Spark], it might be an even easier task than I expected.

I stared at the Coreless as we ran, my vision bouncing along with the stride of the female-who-was-not-Needle. Ahead of us, the remaining male Coreless ran, eating the distance with his massive legs in a way that my slithers never could.

Still, it might not be enough. The sounds were getting louder.

The temptation grew.

My scale-flesh began to slowly lose its grip on the female Coreless’ shoulder as my resolve wavered, my urge to flee growing greater. It hissed at me to hide within the wall-cracks, to cower away and make the Coreless the sacrifices that ensured my own safety.

It filled my mind with images of warring bad-things, memories of when it was just the Great Core and I, back when I was a powerless little snake that shivered within the wall-cracks that were all I knew. It painted a scene of blood and battle far beyond what I could handle, of behemoths that raged in the dim light of the World Dungeon.

It told me that I would not last long in that battle.

Not yet. Not as I was. And yet, sacrificing the Coreless might give me enough time to prepare.

It might give me enough time to do more than cower. I had grown far stronger in the time since then, in ways that I had never imagined. I had obtained the ability to manipulate mana, to imbue it into my venom. I had gained a second type of venom, one that had once been the death of me. I had turned my blood to poison. I was learning to bend light and heat to my will.

In such a short time, I had become something far greater. How much more could I gain, if I bought myself some more?

All I had to do was leave the Coreless - to let them die without me.

And that was it, I realized.

Despite everything, I was desperate to not die again.

Despite all of my praise towards the Great Core, I still harbored doubts. Maybe I always would.

It was hard to forget my final moments. It was impossible to obliterate the sensation of those constricting threads - of the way that they wrapped tight against my scales, dripping red with my blood. Of the way that I had despaired. Of the way that it felt to die.

In the end, I just didn’t want to die again.

My scale-flesh loosened further.

A hand reached out, holding me tight as we ran.

“Are you scared, little guy?” the female Coreless hissed, the sounds coming out even more stilted than usual as the run began to take its toll. “I am, too. Erik’s gone, and I’m terrified that we’ll be next. I don’t know if you can really understand me, but if we don’t make it...I’m sorry that we tried to take your Core.”

It was one of the few times that I felt like I could grasp what she was trying to tell me. Not with her failed attempt at hisses - as always, they made me want to bash my head-scales in frustration with just how wrong they were.

Instead, it was her eyes. Specifically, it was where they were looking - staring directly forward, watching the male Coreless that ran in front of us.

And when I followed her gaze, I saw what I needed to see.

I saw a hint of my own dead scale-flesh as the skin-mouth at his side began to empty its stomach.

More importantly, I saw the Great Core’s light that it carried with it.

At that moment, I knew.

She was reminding me to have faith. My scale-flesh nearly shivered at the thought, caught in the odd middle ground between horror and delight.

I was horrified that a Coreless would have greater faith than I.

I was delighted that a Coreless would have faith at all.

I steeled my resolve. I wouldn’t abandon the Coreless just yet. Not until I knew that there was no hope.

And with the Great Core on my side, there was always hope. I wouldn’t repeat my mistakes - not again. Time and time again, the Great Core had stayed by my side, despite my failures.

Even when I had thought myself abandoned, there in my prison of red threads, it had never left me.

Even now, I knew that it was with me. I would not accept death willingly, but neither would I cower. I would slither proudly into battle, writing the Great Core’s name in the blood of the bad-things that challenged it - or even my own, should it be necessary.

I would just have to trust that it would always bring me back.

The thought came not a moment too soon. A bad-thing broke the surface ahead of us: a Flame Formican larger than any other that I had seen. With it came an army, smaller than before but still large enough in size to force the Coreless to a halt.

My scale-flesh shivered - not with fear this time, though there was more than enough of that.

Instead, it quivered in anticipation.

This time, I was willing to see what the Great Core had planned.