I still remembered the time before; the time when I had just been a helpless little snake, with only my own faith in the Great Core keeping me sane as I witnessed the dangers of the World Dungeon and its many bad-things. How could I not remember that time?

It wasn’t so long ago - not even if I counted the time spent within the countless false-lives of the Flame Dungeon, the times where I had tried and tried again, only to fail and fail again. That, more than anything, made it easy to remember.

Even with my faith in the Great Core, it had been a distressing time. Throwing myself at a problem over and over again until something finally stuck - made worse by the fact that, for the first time in a while, I hadn’t been able to simply rely on the Coreless or my ability to direct them to my will.

It had been up to me. I had needed to be the one to win, to prove victorious against the lesser Core and the fire-water that seared my scale-flesh and the flame-snake that swallowed me whole.

And, finally, I had. I had caught the revolting lesser Core within my jaws; I had swallowed it down, just as the bad-things had swallowed me down again and again.

I had won. Eventually.

I needed to win here, as well. I would win here eventually. The Great Core had made that a certainty.

I didn’t want to win eventually. I didn’t want to exhaust myself again and again, forced to go through the motions of a false-life just to slither one length further, to allow my scale-flesh to tear and bleed, to die again and again because I chose to brute force a solution when I did not possess the strength of a brute.

I was willing to do it. That didn’t mean that I would do it. That didn’t mean that I should do it.

Something about the idea rankled, beyond even the knowledge of the pain and the ripping and the piercing and the utter frustration.

I knew what it was.

Throwing myself into my death was disrespectful, even if it proved my faith. The Great Core should not have to expend the effort to bring me back so many times. If it was forced to do so, didn’t that just mean that it didn’t need me? Wouldn’t that mean that anything could have taken my place and achieved the same? Wouldn’t that mean that I was useless?

Wouldn’t that mean that the Great Core had made a mistake in creating me, rather than something else?

No. The Great Core was not like anything else. The Great Core didn’t make mistakes, and so I refused to be a mistake.

I had to prove that I was worth something - to the Great Core, and to the Coreless that would become the Great Core’s soon enough.

And so, despite my size, despite my inability to simply swallow my enemies whole or crush them under my length, I needed proof of my strength.

The flesh-twisted bad-things clambered across the stone that spanned between us, all slavering jaws and piercing limbs, heedless of the way that flailing spurs cut through their allies’ flesh. Just like before, when they threw themselves on the Coreless that had rushed into their midst, they didn’t seem to care about hurting one another.

They didn’t try to, but nor did they care. And, in the end, that was all that I needed.

I slithered forward, my length wending its way across the distance at twice its normal speed, hastened by the mana-lit ore-flesh that covered my form. The mindless, disgusting, stupid bad-things saw me coming. I pulled against the light around me, tearing away at it with an urgency that caused my scale-flesh to ache as my reservoirs began to overflow.

It was harder than before, with the constant mana-light that spilled from my ore-flesh. Harder to pull at all of the light, to twist and push it until it bent entirely to my will. Harder to disappear.

And so I didn’t; not entirely. Instead, I reappeared. My length flickered and, layered over myself, a crude copy of my body formed. It wasn’t quite right. The glow of ore-flesh was just a little bit off. The scale-flesh was just a little too dull, not quite possessing the glossy texture that had marked it ever since the Great Core blessed me with [Illusion Spark].

As I was, I knew that would have to be my limit. It wouldn’t have been enough to fool one of my Coreless - not even close. It also didn’t need to be.

Underneath the cover provided by my own illusion, I shifted the color of my scales. They were a glossy black, perfect for hiding in shadows and darkness if the mana-light of my ore-flesh hadn’t completely ruined any possibility of that, but the stone around me was closer to a dark gray. My scales began to lighten, trying to match its shade.

It was harder than I had expected; covered by an illusion of myself, I wasn’t actually able to check to see if the color was right. Again, it probably wasn’t perfect. Again, it hopefully wouldn’t matter.

Either way, there wasn’t any more time.

The bad-things were here.

As the closest one neared me, I opened my jaws. With the dregs of mana that I had left, I spit fire. It was easier than before, the mana flowing in the path that I directed with little protest. Too little left to properly rage. Too small to hold itself firmly in place.

Still more than enough for what I needed.

Brilliant blue [Mana Fire] roared past my throat-flesh, twisted into [Chrono Fire] in the moment before it exited my open mouth. It cut through the air, sticky blue flames coating the closest of the revolting creatures and beginning to melt its flesh.

Enraged, it thrust downwards with a stab of one of its many piercing limbs. I twisted away from it, my scale-flesh twinging at the sudden movement. The illusion that still coated me followed my movements, a mirror of my scale-flesh that seemed to say ‘I am me. There is nothing but me. Nothing underneath me.’.

And then the flames were close enough. The light was close enough. I pulled, and the brilliant fire dimmed. The illusion that coated me, the false-self that covered my camouflaged form, finally abandoned me. So much brighter than myself, it went left, twisting impossibly to dodge a brutal stomp before slithering up a bad-thing’s leg with ridiculous speed. The other bad-things’ stares followed.

Meanwhile, I slipped into the slowly growing slow-spot of [Chrono Fire], [Clinging Grasp] making it easy to climb the flame-coated bad-thing’s legs. The comforting warmth of the flames and the zone of altered time greeted me like an old and annoying friend; the rapid beat of my heart slowed, and for a moment I could almost believe that I was home again.

I shook off the feeling, activating [Traveler] and brushing away the minor effect of [Chrono Fire]’s burgeoning slow-spot. I had forgotten how much I missed the sensation, as annoying as I had always found it. How much I missed home.

I sunk my fangs into the abomination, the entirety of my death-venom pouring through their hollows. With the way that its flesh had begun to melt, I doubted that it could even feel the bite. Still, I needed to make sure that I could focus. I couldn’t do that if the stupid thing tried to run itself - and more importantly, me - through when it finally noticed that I was clinging to it.

Between my venom and the flames, it collapsed almost instantly. The thought-light flickered, and I let out a quiet hiss of relief.

Experience Gained!

Able to concentrate at last, another false-self - rapidly formed with the reservoirs of light and heat that I had gathered from the flames - split off from the first. While the first continued to wind rapidly around its chosen bad-thing, the second leapt back down, slithering towards another target.

It was difficult, managing so many things at once - and the toll on my reservoirs and concentration only increased as my illusions moved further away from my own body. This one didn’t manage to dodge the attack that came for it, not even in the impossible, twisting way that the first had. A bone-tipped arm pierced right through it, stabbing into the stone underneath. I forced false-blood to spill from its scale-flesh, hoping that the creature wouldn’t notice that nothing was really there.

It didn’t, immediately stabbing through its own leg when the false-self began to rapidly climb upwards.

Light and sound gradually began to distort around me as the strength of the slow-spot grew, but it didn’t stop me from seeing or hearing what came next.

It didn’t hide the squelch of flesh as a nearby creature stabbed directly through the first of my false-selves - directly through the brain of the bad-thing that it clung to. It didn’t hide the confirmation of what I already knew.

They didn’t care if they hurt one another, as long as they were trying to kill an enemy.

I pulled from the flames again, absorbing the light that had begun to gather in the slowed time of [Chrono Fire]. Another false-self split away from the first, and the two illusions began to climb the nearest bad-things.

Soon enough, I heard another thump as a second bad-thing was run through by the others.

I pulled again.

Another false-self split.

I heard another thump.