At least one of us got some rest over the night. While I was certain that it was less of a ‘sleep’ and more of a magically-induced coma, my little friend had remained completely still at the foot of my core’s stand, its only movement being the subtle rise and fall of its torso as it breathed.

Whatever the process of resynthesis entailed, it hadn’t been a panacea of any sort. The mouse's tiny body wasn't looking great, but its wounds weren’t bleeding anymore which was a relief. Something that minuscule didn’t have much blood to spare, and that wasn’t even going into the risks of infection in the filthy mud-pit my room had become. As for its status, well…

CORE-TOUCHED MOUSE RUNT LVL: 0 CATEGORY: Monster SKILLS: [Scavenge] TRAITS: [Kindled Intellect] A small, juvenile field rodent under the auric influence of a dungeon core. Force Level-Up Cost: 15 MP

There was a small amount of comfort that I could take from the fact that its wounds were no longer noteworthy enough to register in its descriptive text. Still, even from a distance I could see the nasty gouges on its legs from a wayward swipe of the ripper cat’s claws while it dug. They weren't bleeding now at least, though the divots remained, pink scar tissue visible beneath a thin layer of dark fur.

I’d find a way to fix those in time. I'd make sure of it. I'd gotten a new trait in [Biology I] thanks to ascending the rat, which I figured was probably my best way forward on that front. If anything would lead to enhanced knowledge of healing arts, biology seemed like a safe choice.

My plans to collect more wealth had been contingent on having a mouse capable of climbing the tree to steal an egg from the crow’s nest… assuming it had eggs up there, which was a bit of a gamble since it hadn't come back at all yet. Even still, it was easy enough to justify pouring some resources into helping the poor creature—both for my conscience and to appease the part of my mind hungry for progress.

Since magical healing wasn’t something I had access to at the moment, that left the good old fashioned way of handling medicine: tender, loving care. Which, at the very least, I was completely capable of--theoretically.

I’d need to train the manamites in bedside manner. They weren't very good at much besides building, eating, and dragging things across the floor.

Still, that could wait. While even just a few weeks ago I might have struggled to find anything to do, I now found myself with a frustrating overabundance of tasks to handle. The mouse needed tending, and I needed to secure some kind of proper shelter for it. I needed to find a way to… sort out the remains of the other mice and lay them to rest, for my own mental health and to keep any sharp-nosed scavengers away. Then came trying to beef up the security for the chamber, or at least tighten down the entrances and repair the damage done to the walls.

Well, one thing at a time. My days of investment into new manamites had paid off, and I could see a noticeable increase in working speed as they began sorting out the rubble, digging through the brick-dotted heap of mud now acting as a southern wall to my room after the wall had partially collapsed. Piece by piece, they broke the heap down into its elemental parts: Raw Stone, Loose Soil, and the… occasional pocket of Biological Material. The hours drifted by and the wall began to reform—though I had abandoned the original design of it.

In its place, what came into being was something that I hoped would be sturdier. In truth, something of an experiment; if it worked, I’d roll it out to the other walls. Instead of the neatly-laid, organized aesthetic of brick, I opted instead to construct a smooth, featureless wall of polished rock, decorated with evenly-spaced trusses to provide additional support. I needed to invest into my defenses. I couldn’t allow something like that to happen ever again. That meant my room needed to be sturdy, with no easy ways in or out until I figured out a mechanism I could use to stage a more active defense.

On the subject of investment, I still had my remaining mana—saving the runt of the litter had one small benefit in costing slightly less than the previous mice I’d examined. Combined with what I’d generated during my work today so far… well, I had just under fifteen mana ready to burn a hole in my pocket. And looking at the ability to force a level up on one of my two core-touched minions felt awfully tempting. But which one to invest in?

The mouse seemed like the wiser choice long-term, as I didn’t have any idea how repeatedly reinforcing a plant’s abilities might help me at all. On the other hand, as grim as it was… I wasn’t entirely sure that the mouse would ever wake up at all. Sure, it seemed likely, but I’d feel like a fool if I kept pumping energy into a rat in a vegetative state only for it to never awaken. Maybe I could find some use for the plant’s berries? Worst case, I could use them as a kind of passive income on Biological Matter.

Well, I guess dropping it all on mites was another potential option with some appeal to it—any increase to my throughput on interacting with the world was useful. I’d have to buy more mites eventually so it didn’t make a whole lot of sense to procrastinate on that, since they’d be able to start being productive immediately.

Yeah. I’d go with the mites for now.

Forming this many all in one go was a bit dull, like having to fold an origami crane again and again and again, but I was starting to develop a bit of an assembly line mindset for it. The hours flew by, and my army of all-consuming fireflies grew larger.

SHARD OF COALESCED WILL LVL: 0 (91%) CATEGORY: Elemental MP: 0 / 50 ( + ) MANAMITE HORDE: 42 / 200 SKILLS: [Botany I]

[Biology I] Nascent heart of a world-born entity, crystallized from soul energy. Exerts control over a localized area.

Virtual Hoard:

➤7 Raw Stone

➤112 Loose Soil

➤38.2 Biological Material

Satisfied with that, I moved on to the other walls, carrying the same aesthetic to surround the entire room over the next dozen hours, expecting to have to interrupt myself when my little friend finally awoke.

But it didn’t.

And unlike the mogo bush, examining the mouse didn’t provide any information on how long this process would take. Worrying, considering its size and injuries. If this kept up much longer, I’d probably need to look into a way to manually feed it. My bush hadn’t quite reached the point of having edible berries yet, but I might be able to have the mites borrow from the one up above.

Still, it wasn’t the highest priority just yet. I needed that hole in the roof gone. Even just looking at it made my metaphysical, nonexistent stomach tie itself in knots. Starting from the top, I commanded my swarm to consume the roof and everything resting immediately on top of it, opening the rest of the room up to the late evening sky and the vast timbered giants looming above.

For the moment.

One I was satisfied with their demolition work, I had them begin by constructing a pair of columns along the center of the room, branching out into horizontal beams of stone connecting to the outer walls. On top of this, I laid a simple gabled roof, leaving a pair of meticulously-crafted stone grates to allow some sunlight to filter in. It was the best I could do for now, but we were entirely sealed off.

Over the course of two days, my pit had transformed into a vault.

I wasn’t really sure if I’d call it an upgrade, but it felt safer at least, even if I’d miss having such a clear, unobstructed view of the sky—

My thoughts crashed to a standstill for a moment. I had a properly-functioning roof now that wasn’t covered in dirt and grass. I could see outside if I wanted to. It took a moment for my eyes to diffuse into this new addition to the structure.

Testing my hypothesis, I tried to imagine looking outside, poking my head out like a meerkat from its hole. Sure enough, I actually caught a glimpse of the surface.

Not much of one, but it was the furthest I’d seen outside of my pit ever so it was still a special moment. On top of that, I was struck by a simple idea.

A periscope.

If I could see from anything that was a part of my construction, then building a simple structure upwards could naturally serve to allow me a better vantage point to examine the world.

Hm. I’d add it to the list of construction projects.

I couldn’t delay my other projects any more for now, anyways. Building a den for the mouse came next—I didn’t go for anything incredibly complex. In construction, it almost resembled a birdhouse with several bent tubes to use as entry points, which I constructed a short distance away from the mogo bush. That could serve as a food source for now, though I’d need to secure water as well if I wanted this place to truly work as a bunker.

Knocking out two out of three on the ‘food, water, shelter’ list of essentials in a few days wasn’t bad, all things considered.

Maybe I could find a way to collect rainwater and store it safely? Hm. Without a clear avenue of progress to take on that line of thinking, I abandoned it for the moment to focus my attention back onto my patient, still resting quietly below me. I doubted it was particularly strong or capable given that it was marked as level 0, but… so was I, last I’d checked. Perhaps its skills and traits could prove useful to me?

Kindled Intellect: Passive. The bearer of this skill gains a significant increase to its cognitive functions at the cost of higher energy requirements. Allows for the use of basic higher-level cognitive concepts like object permanence, self-recognition, delayed gratification, and intermediate social behaviors. Scavenger: While active, the bearer of this skill gains a minor directional sense for primally-desired objects within a short range, typically food or wealth.

Which, while it seemed useful, would still be fairly limited. A mouse couldn’t carry much, travel far, or move freely without risking being noticed by predators. With some investment I might be able to make it work, though.

Right. With all of the work I’d put in on vault, I was running very low on stone. Other than that, I wasn’t in bad shape. Conducting this many mites was great for doing large, single tasks, but multitasking was still too much for me to handle. This meant small jobs like carrying the mouse to the tiny bed I’d made for it in its house was a great job for three or four mites, but left the rest of them awkwardly shuffling around like teenagers at a school dance trying to figure out what to do with their feet.

With that settled I was officially caught up on my backlog of work.

The periscope would be my next project, then. Thankfully, I wouldn’t need to worry about any of the complicated things a real periscope might have to deal with, like obtaining glass or the science behind optics. Really, all I needed to do was construct something ‘tall’ and that would work just fine. Hm. Perhaps if I invested into the mouse’s gliding skill, I might be able to use it as a ‘launch point’ as well. I’d design an easy way to the top, then.

Given that there wasn’t much of a rush, I started off by simply experimenting with styles for the base first, having the mites construct and deconstruct a number of ideas in quick succession, like an architect might draw up rough drafts. A cylindrical pillar seemed like a good choice, something structurally-sound that could house a hollow interior for me to carve a stairway into. Sadly, my reserve of stockpiled stone wasn’t up to the task, so I took a brief break to continue to quarry away at the area outside of my walls, gradually hollowing it out with every bite my workers took.

Satisfied that twenty-five stone ought to be plenty, I returned to finishing my work on the antenna-like pole jutting out from the roof. It was a bit over a foot in diameter, a hollow ring of stone braced with a pattern of structural supports on the inside to keep it from breaking apart under its own weight. The… ‘stairway’ inside was cramped to say the least, but it might function well enough. At least until my mouse got older and needed more space.

Ratticus certainly wouldn’t have been able to squeeze his fat arse in it, that’s for sure.

I was busy putting the finishing details on it when I spotted movement inside of me. It was awake.

Shakily, the mouse had hobbled out of the makeshift bed I had made it, its beady eyes flitting about the strange, unfamiliar area it found itself in. I hoped that it wasn’t too afraid, though if it remembered what had happened that night…

I couldn’t help but wonder what was going on in its head. What was it like? The wording of the skills left a bit to be desired as far as descriptiveness went, but waking up with a newfound ability to properly think just seemed like an impossible sensation to describe. Without any way to communicate, I could only watch as it limped around its surroundings, tiny paws pressing up against the stonework I’d laid so carefully. It glanced towards the tunnel out of its room, and I could tell it understood the intention: this was the exit.

It made its way down the tube, entering my vault properly for the first time with its new mindset, head craned back as it moved on all fours. It knew this place, but it was different now. The confusion was evident in its eyes. It turned slowly, examining the area until it saw the wall where its family’s den had once been.

There it stood, motionless for a few moments aside from the occasional twitch of its nose. Was it mourning?

It laid down, resting its head on the dusty floor, eyes transfixed at the base of the smooth stone wall. At the place that its burrow had once been, now neatly walled off with all evidence of the burrow's existence erased.

And there the mouse remained for the rest of the night.

Even if I'd had a mouth, I wouldn't have known what to say.

I-it was just a mouse anyways, right? I shouldn't have been this bothered by this... but I was either way.