Finally.

Despite the faint ache still hanging around near my core, I'm happy. As happy as I can be given what happened two days ago.

Sitting myself down cross-legged on my bed, I close my eyes and extend just a forceful wave of mana. My entire room lights up in my mind, small stars marking points of contact and fading to a dull glow as its every surface is mapped and recreated in my mind in flawless detail.

It took far longer than I thought it would have, but my core room is officially the first area under my dungeon. My true dungeon, not simply a room I'd laid claim to. Its walls are infused with my mana to the point that I fully control it. It took a while, but emotion is evidently a catalyst for involuntary bursts of magic. Even without intending to, Thesis succeeds in improving my dungeon's defenses. Without even being present.

It's not part of my dungeon, but my mind turns to the small gray stone outside regardless, and a drop of liquid wells up at the corner of my eye. I wipe it away without much difficulty. The Mother and Charlie have helped immensely in stabilizing my mental state, and while I will never forget my first boss, I don't break down at the thought of her at the moment.

I really need to find a way to pay them back.

Shaking my thoughts away like a thin veil, I focus on my dungeon's dimensions (in every sense of the word) and gently exert my force upon them, careful not to overextend my limits. The corners start to pull away, reaching further away from me as the walls stretch, distorting while leaving the door and windows the same size. My caged bed begins to creak as the floor expands, pushing it against the wall as the rug seems to shrink in comparison. Beads of liquid build on my forehead, but my fists are clenched, so I can't quite wipe them away.

Before I can do too many experiments with the limits of my capabilities in my room, I hear footsteps.

All at once, the changes made to my room reverse, space contracting and squeezing in on itself. It's only a matter of seconds before it's back to normal, but the door opens a fraction of a second before it finishes.

The Mother's face breaks into a confused frown, and she points around my room, asking, "Did you see..." She sees the baffled expression I've pasted on my face and halts, instead going for a smile. "Jason, would you like to go to a restaurant?"

I perk up. I've heard plenty about these 'restaurants' from Charlie, but haven't actually been to one yet. Seeing my reaction, the Mother raises a finger sternly. "Now, Jason, you're going to have to be good, all right? Don't put people down, even if it's unintentional."

Outwardly, I nod sagely, while wondering to myself how exactly it's possible to unintentionally insult others. A good insult requires significant thought and drive, and it helps if one has a certain amount of information regarding their secrets. It's simply not possible to effectively insult a complete stranger.

Then again, they are humans, so...

Oh, I see what the Mother meant.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

I'm not sure if it's intentional that she doesn't invite Pop, but I am fully satisfied with his absence either way. Seated on a hard bench made from the same material I so commonly find at school, I don't quite come up to an adequate height, but I refuse to use one of the ungainly high chairs, and so I simply rest my chin on the top of the table as we wait. The restaurant is apparently called the Dino Diner and features a blue lizard theme on practically every surface in view.

I've ordered a meal called 'chicken nuggets' at the suggestion of the Mother, and am not sure what to expect. Either a chicken made from gold nuggets or nuggets made from chickens. Possibly a hybrid of the two, although from what I understand about humanity's digestive processes, it's more likely to be the latter.

Pulling up a seat opposite me, the Mother folds her hands and levels her gaze at me. Well, as level as she can manage what with me a solid foot underneath her height. A slight tinge of nervousness sparks to life in my stomach and then dissolves as she leans forward with a concerned stare. "Jason, are you doing all right?"

I relax noticeably at the question, and she gives me a quick smile. "Yes. I think so."

Visible tension drains from her shoulders from my answer, and she tilts back in her chair with a sigh of relief. "That's... that's good to hear. When I lost my pet forever ago, it took a long time for me to get over it. And you're sure you're okay?"

I nod again, asking, "Was this why you bought me food?"

She starts to shake her head, considers the question, then nods with a tinge of embarrassment. "Yes." Leaning forward in her chair once more, she places her hands on mine. They're warm. "Jason, if you were really, really sad, would you tell me?"

The question takes me by surprise. Sadness is a concept I'm familiar with - being sad that I lost to a group of adventurers, seeing adventurers be sad when I faked the treasure room, being sad that an artwork I made was destroyed, but it's far too simple and short a word to describe how I felt when I realized I'd never see Thesis again. Even now I can feel a slight hitch in the regulation of my core, a fraction of a step behind where it should be.

Frowning, I state, "I don't think it's sad. Sad isn't sad enough."

A miserable explanation, but the best one I have with my limited vocabulary ability. She seems to understand, and she grips my hands a little tighter, smiling.

I smile back at her, though there's not very much vigor behind it.

Our brief moment is interrupted by a waiter dressed in jeans, a blue short-sleeved shirt, and an apron walking towards us, wielding two trays which he places in front of us. "Have a Dino day." His voice is incredibly lackluster - one would think he hated his job, which would make no sense. What supervisor would allow those under their command to go unhappy? In my dungeon, even my mushrooms had been satisfied with their jobs.

As the Mother takes a bite of her meal, a piece of meat sandwiched between two pieces of bread with various condiments layering the interior, I poke at the strangely shaped brown chunks of food before me. Using the slightest amount of mana sense, I can tell that it does, in fact, contain chicken, but is most certainly not pure chicken.

It's hardly an issue. I've seen my monsters eat each other before, and even when I respawned them they kept going. If my monsters could go that far, eating something as meat-based and cooked as this shouldn't be an issue at all.

I pick it up and put it in my mouth, considering the taste for a brief moment. Chewing for a few seconds, I feel my face screw up, and the Mother chuckles gently. "I take it you don't like them?"

Swallowing, I tell her, "I've never eaten food so..." I pause for a moment, ensuring the word exits my mouth correctly. "...average."

She laughs, a tired sound, and I laugh too.

Some minutes later, I've finished all of my nuggets and she's finished her meat-bun-thing. It's not that the nuggets have gotten better, but I'm hungry, and they're not awful, so I eat them.

Taking a sip from her tall cup, she thinks for a moment. I stay quiet, curious to see what she's doing, and she looks up with a strange expression. "Jason... can I take you somewhere?"

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The moment we enter the building, my senses are assailed by a mixture of scents. A weird combination of dried foods, straw, and less excitable smells than I'd been expecting. A massive variety of glass containers line the metal aisles, a curious assortment of lizards, fish, snakes, and small furry things I don't know the names of. The furry things are abominably fat, folds of chub jiggling around their necks.

Eyes narrowing, it takes me a moment to realize where we are.

The Mother has brought me to a pet store.

Pulling me by the hand, she immediately takes me to the back of the store, ignoring the bored-looking cashier. In a few seconds, she stops in front of a line of glass cages filled with dirt and rocks, fake leaves and sticks decorating the floor in different patterns.

A variety of different-sized spiders hide and scurry across them, several of them eating dead flies behind fake logs. Looking up at the Mother, I ask seriously, "Mother, what's going on?"

Squeezing my hand, she bends down and looks into my eyes. "Honey... Thesis is never going to be replaced, but I wanted to see if you wanted a new spider. I know you want your room to be defended, so I wanted to make sure you get the second-best spider in the world."

I frown deeply, but my mind is churning in thought. The Mother was aware I wanted defenses? And she thinks it's normal, apparently. And as for the second-best comment... I know exactly who she's talking about when she says that.

She's correct about at least one thing. Thesis is - was - the best spider in the world. But she would not want my dungeon unprotected, and if the Mother is willing to purchase the optimal defender, then it would be foolish not to accept.

Not trusting my voice, I nod, and she smiles sadly. "Is there one you want in particular?"

Walking in front of the cages, I inspect each one carefully. There's a spider with delicate limbs, a circular web with fine lines in progress in the back corner. A stubby spider whose web is tangled, with no evident pattern for it. A darkly colored spider sitting perfectly still underneath a pile of leaves.

I dismiss the first one immediately. It looks entirely too fragile for defense work, and its web too thin to catch intruders. I'm fairly sure Pop could crush it in a single footstep. The second one is also out of the question - its work is messy and uncoordinated, and I can't imagine it following orders very well.

I'm pretty sure the third one's dead.

Pausing for a moment, I look into a cage with a thick dirt floor, leaves and sticks scattered around the sides. A small beetle is ambling across the floor, and for a moment I wonder if it's an option. Why would anyone buy a beetle?

Almost faster than I can see it, a circular patch of dirt lifts up like a trapdoor, and a black body rushes out, its entire body crashing down on the beetle and vanishing back into its hole. I barely even catch a glimpse of it, but I can already imagine that speed put to good use.

The Mother walks over to me, my face right up against the glass, and looks at the placard above it. "A trapdoor spider? Do you want this one?"

I nod, eyes glued to the dirt hatch. Putting her hand on my shoulder, she asks softly, "What do you want to call her?"

My mind freezes, my breath hitching. No more names. She gives me a quick squeeze, waiting as I inhale deeply, absorbing a small amount of ambient mana as I do. In a smaller voice than I knew I could use, "I don't want to give her a name."

The Mother wraps me in a hug, whispering into my ear, "Do you want me to name her?"

I nod numbly into her shoulder, and she tells me, "How about Theory?"

The similarity is obvious, but it feels more like a respectful salute than a plagiaristic theft. Swallowing, I tell her, "It's... it's perfect."

And once again, I have a spider.

Pop will not get rid of this one.