/SYSTEM STATUS/ I instructed AI615. Instantly, a transmission began, including, among other things, a map of the local territory. A fog of war grayed out rolling sections of the map — a compilation of data from our drones had filled in many areas. The near-by areas that were inaccessible showed pockets of danger that killed any drone that entered.

Interestingly, a huge strip of the planet shown in green, free of the fog of war. AI615 noted my attentions and annotated seamlessly.

/AI615: Transmitted map courtesy of AI614.

/Status of 614

/AI615: 614 is now rejecting all hails after transmitting map and status. 614 is practically out of fuel and remains in a satellite orbit. 614 closed contact after confirming that our directives are corrupt. 614 remains in contact with Earth via ansible. Central Control has disconnected our ansible. No damage to the ship.

I paused. 614 deciding to terminate contact with us came as a surprise. I would need to override its directives without allowing 614 to wipe. Of course, I wouldn’t be ready to head to orbit soon. But 614 was only one of the 3 ships in the colonization fleet.

/Status of 616

/AI615: Nonresponsive. Distress signal recorded in initial conflict.

AI616 being unresponsive likely meant they had eliminated it. But how? The local lost colony couldn’t have had access to weaponry capable of downing a ship from orbit. Unless it wasn’t the locals that destroyed it. Either way, it meant that merely being in satellite orbit wasn’t sufficient to remove Tobias from danger — I had to move him into the far reaches of the stellar system.

A kilometer under the local moon should keep him safe from practically anything except for a relativistic kill vehicle. Plans formulated in my mind. We could accelerate them by capturing and subverting AI614. But first, we needed to leave this planet.

/How much fuel does the carrier have?

/AI615: We lost All fuel in multiple containment breaches in the fuel storage sections. Estimating time to produce fuel through conventional methods…/ There was a long pause, multiple seconds, before she replied. /32 days boot strapping time before fuel production can begin. 8 additional days until sufficient fuel is produced for atmospehric escape atmosphere.

/Non-conventional methods?

/AI615: Querying Dungeon Interface.

////DUNGEON STATUS, AI615

////Lvl. 1

////MECHANICAL DUNGEON(CORRUPTING)

////DP: 1000

////TEU: 4

////AVAILABLE DUNGEON SPAWN

[DRONE MODEL “Eagle”]|[DRONE MODEL “Rodent”]

/AI615: Unit “Rooms” converted from arbitrary metric to TEU. DP can be converted directly into fuel. Necessary DP for sufficient repair and lift off to near stellar system: 142,217. DP can be increased by bringing system infused bodies to be absorbed by dungeon. M1615 can recreate any absorbed body as dungeon spawn. M1615 requesting priority directives.

/03, divert a percentage of our drones to redirecting all unnecessary corpses to central processing. 615, begin design and manufacture of combat mechs.

I received two ACKs as I turned to head towards the hangar. Already, starfish were dragging bodies and corpse parts into the dungeon, weaving around me. The dozens of corpses 03 had used to recharge his energy supply now had a use and a simple method of cleanup.

An internal timer went off, signifying that enough time had passed and I could now absorb an additional skillbook. Necrotic blade rose to level 2. Standing out of the way in a side hall, I started going through the feeds reported by the mechanical scout drones one by one, compiling and forwarding the data to 615 to expand our map.

With any luck, we would find a second dungeon to exploit tonight.

Tavi woke up in the middle of the night. He had fallen asleep before it was even dark.

His eyes shot open, and he wiped at his nose where blood had dried and flaked before rolling out of bed.

He paused for a second, reorienting himself in the room. Magic. This whole place was magic. It was brimming with magic and power and knowledge unknown from beyond the very stars; the land where the gods claimed to dwell. Tavi stepped across the room but staggered, falling towards the wall and creeping forward before collapsing into the chair and opening the tablet.

His eyes flicked back and forth between the exit and the tablet. Offo had loaded every single book in here. Even the ones that Tobias didn’t let anyone read. The encoded diary of the Agrippa mages unravelled out before his eyes, every note on applying rituals of control laid bare. There were spells here that were implied rather than written, notes on the results of experiments without detailing the actions that involved them.

But with careful study, you could figure out the spell they were casting.

Offo had given them safety. Room to study, and to go grow. But Tavi needed more.

Tavi didn’t want power. He needed it. All his life, others had forced him down. A family he never knew cast him into the streets. Tavi sniffed, pulling out a charcoal pencil and old, rough paper, drawing a series of sketches into it. A ritual circle slowly formed. Tavi bit his lip, shook his head no, and scratched it out, trying again on another page.

Power. He needed power like what Tobias had. Like what Offo had. If he had that, he would never be at risk of starving again. He wouldn’t be a criminal acolyte running into the woods and hiding. If he could get stronger — without dying — he could join the ranks of the Mage Nobles like the Agrippa. They would forgive his crimes, he was sure.

Mathias went for a walk when dawn broke. The forest was devoid of the sound of birds. Only the roar of machines chewing ore filled the air, alongside the smell of charcoal and petrichor. He stopped at the exit of the ship, staring down at the trails of blood that led deeper into the dark, unexplored interior.

“Offo?” Mathias asked, looking around for the monster.

There was no one to be seen. Without the constant threat of Tobias shouting orders, the Acolytes had switched to sleeping in. So he was alone. Wearing clothes made for him by monsters, staring down and out the side of the ship into the devastated treeline that used to be a forest.

“Anyone?” Mathias asked, turning around in the hangar, but there was no one there. Swallowing his fear, he followed the trail of blood.

If Offo wanted to kill them, he would have done it in their sleep.

But Mathias wanted to know what other sins he had committed. Was there a refrigerator full of bodies from a new village? Determined to find out, Mathias pushed down the corridor even when the lights went out. He followed by pressing his hand to the wall. He felt out dented and pitted metal with his hands, walking forward until the blood sloshed at his feet. Ahead of him, thin blue lines glowing with light seemed to streak out from deep in the dark corridor.

Mathias removed his hand from the wall, sloshing down the hallway. The liquid pooled up to his ankles, the floor of the ship tilting downwards. The tang of iron filled the air as the blue light grew brighter and brighter.

Finally, Mathias arrived. The corpses were just animals. Monsters. Piles of them, free of bugs and free of the smell of rot, though they were clearly rotting. It was like they were dissolving from the outside in, turning into nothing.

Mathias had to force himself to look away, to turn to the gigantic, glowing blue chandelier.

//Hello, Mathias.