“This thing is ENDLESS!”

The endless tunnels had walls made of stone and lined with crystals, spearing ahead and branching into all kinds of different directions like streets in a city. Lukas kept running through them, exploring the underground geography of the ‘sub-anomaly’ he’d found himself in. That, and the thick veins of aqāru that neatly traversed the entire length of the tunnel. Of all the tunnels.

Exhaling, he leaped over the next mound of crystal obstructing his way, his hands reaching towards the next fairly large mound. Applying downward pressure, he vaulted over it and dropped into a forward roll, coming up running without breaking his pace.

“Are you sure it’d— pant —be a bad idea— pant —to break these crystals?”

There was no real reason for all the endless running, but he was feeling giddy inside and needed a way to burn off all the excitement. He was certain that lifeforce was to blame. That, or his newly developed Anomaly-nature.

“Seriously, there isn’t a single monster— pant —around for miles.”

It was like the crystal cave was some sort of anti-monster region. There was just nothing living, not even plants growing here. No food, no water, nothing but crystals and aqāru. And cold, lifeless stone.

Luckily, he wasn’t feeling hungry. Or thirsty, for that matter.

Strange.

Holding that thought, Lukas jumped over another mound of crystal like before. But while the intent was to clear it, land on both hands, drop into a smooth roll, and come up running again like before, it didn’t work out that way. He misjudged the dive and his foot caught a crystal atop the mound.

“Oof!”

He lay there on the ground for a moment, recovering from getting the wind knocked out of him. Taking a fall was no big deal, he’d done it more than enough times. On an hourly basis, really, ever since he’d found himself stranded in this world.

Grinning with excitement, he pushed himself up. He really was on a sugar-high. Or lifeforce-high, in this case.

“I have seen power corrupt. I have seen it consume others wholly.” Inanna paused. “This is, however, the first time I am seeing it change someone into a monkey.”

“Very funny,” Lukas growled, looking around and then at himself. He could hardly believe it, but there was still this heat inside him that made him feel tipsy and adrenaline-filled. Seriously, where was an imminent doomsday event or scary monster when you needed one?

He glanced to his right, towards the aqāru, before cautiously dipping his hands inside.

Nothing happened.

Scooping out a handful, he felt the droplets slowly slide up his fingers, to the other side of his palm, before detaching from his hand and rejoining the silvery pool.

“All this aqāru…” Lukas softly spoke. “You’d think the anomaly is preparing for something big.”

He felt a faint sliver of surprise emanating from his resident goddess.

“…What?”

“I am merely surprised you arrived at such a conclusion all by yourself.”

Mildly scowling, Lukas grabbed for the liquid once more. But like before, no matter what he did, the metal just wouldn’t stay in his hands. He tried cupping his palm and even closing his fist, but the aqāru seemed to have a mind of its own as it slithered out and rejoined the pool.

It was just as Inanna had said. It was sentient. Alive.

He let his gaze follow the aqāru into the darkness at the end of the tunnel. Ever since Inanna had explained the nature of the luminous substance and what it was capable of, a strange little thought kept gnawing at the edges of his mind. The aqāru had a fairly simple constitution, one which could be replaced with useful skills and powers to be used by the caster.

The bottom line was that it was the base material for magical technology. An incredibly versatile metal best served for the infinite creation of tools.

But Lukas wanted to go one step further.

The aqāru was alive, flexible, and had basic instincts— rudimentary at best, but it was still sentient, and that was what mattered. But what if its simplistic Anima was replaced by a more functional, complex, and capable one? Like the khorkhoi? The physiological differences would be an issue, but if he, a human, could utilize the khorkhoi’s powers and instincts, then couldn’t the same be possible for this sentient substance?

Briefly, he pictured a gargantuan, many-tailed, scaled monstrosity in his mind. Only this one was made out of shining liquid metal instead of slime.

One that obeyed his orders to perfection.

“Your wisdom grows, mortal,” Inanna complimented. “Slowly, perhaps, but enough to be appreciated.”

Lukas blinked. “What do you mean?”

“It is perfectly within the laws of the World to allow the creation of such a creature. However, such a feat is beyond you.”

“But it is possible, right?” he pressed.

“Such a feat is beyond you,” she stubbornly repeated. “What you wish for is no mere possession, but Creation. Something above the realm of mortals. Or even Gods, for that matter.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Imagine that,” the goddess chuckled, before quickly sobering. “A God holds authority over an aspect of the World. Some, like me, hold more than one. But Creation is the providence of something greater than even us.”

“The Origin,” Lukas breathed, surprising himself. It was like deep inside, he’d known the answer all along.

“And its offsprings.”

“The Omphalos. Like this Crypt.” His fingers lightly scratched his own chest. “Like me.”

“As such, it should be within the realm of possibility. Though it shall be next to impossible, incredibly dangerous, and rather likely to get you killed.”

Lukas’s brows furrowed.

“Still,” the goddess continued, “I cannot say I am not intrigued by the prospect. An anomaly can create, but only within its domain, and this aqāru does not fall within yours. A binding will be imperative.”

“So… what? You want me to tie it around my waist or something?”

“As interesting as that would be to watch,” she drawled, “I’d rather not waste my time.”

Lukas briefly considered asking what her alternative was, seeing as she was stuck with him regardless. But in the end, he decided against it, thus proving that despite Inanna’s words, he wasn’t really an overgrown juvenile.

Inanna’s self-indulgent smirk quickly reduced the impact of his personal victory.

“Alright, so what do I have to do?”

“Establish a spiritual contract between yourself and the creature, promising nutrition and growth in exchange for it ignoring its natural-born instincts.”

“English please,” Lukas groaned. “Five words or less.”

“You turn it into your pet.”

“That’s six.”

“Of course, I shall have to directly assist you for this to work,” Inanna went on, ignoring him. “It is a rather delicate process, and as such my guidance will counteract any bumbling errors you make.”

“Of course you will,” he groused. He should’ve known she’d jump at every opportunity to have him in her debt. It was just who she was. “And what’ll be the price this time?”

Inanna merely chuckled. “This time, it is… what do you mortals call it? On the house?”

“On the—” Lukas spluttered, before his eyes narrowed. Mentally, he went through everything she’d told him about the procedure with a fine-toothed comb. “You never do anything for free.”

“Do not question my magnanimity, mortal. It is as fragile as it is rare.”

“I have a feeling I’m going to be stuck in a situation I don’t want to be in because of this procedure, and you won’t do anything about it no matter how much I ask otherwise.”

“Your paranoia is as amusing as it is unnecessary, mortal. For now, open your mind to me. And be advised, this will hurt.”

Closing his eyes, he sighed. “Story of my life.”

“Very well. To start with, you must…”

“Alright, I’m officially freaked out.”

Inanna’s chuckles permeated his mind.

“No, seriously, it’s weird. Not only are you doing this all for free— I repeat, for free —but you’re also casting a spell. The last time you did something like that, you made me fly into the air and served khorkhoi steak for dinner. And now, you’re offering to get me a pet. And— I can’t stress this enough —for free.”

The goddess rolled her eyes. “Are you quite finished?”

“…No.”

Inanna smiled, and Lukas felt his lips move of their own volition. His vocal cords produced a strange rumble that most certainly wasn’t his own voice, instead oddly reminiscent of heavy rocks being scraped together or rusted iron dragged against gravel. It wasn’t loud. No, calling it loud wouldn’t do it justice. Even though it came from his throat, it seemed to emanate from everywhere.

He tried, and failed, to wrap his head around the concept.

“ወለድኩህ!”

Lukas had no idea what he’d just uttered. He could scarcely remember any of it, save maybe an ‘au’ and a ‘kou’ at some point. Or was that a ‘ha’? There was no way to be sure.

The language brimmed with power, shaping the world with the very existence of a single utterance, yet he didn’t know what it meant. He had a feeling he’d known what he had spoken while casting it, but the knowledge was immediately flushed out of his mind, as if he simply wasn’t allowed to possess it.

Contrary to his expectations, there was no explosion. No light. No sound. No otherworldly, overwhelming force at play. Rather, a mad outpouring of something tore its way out of him— not as a single shockwave, but an array of countless tendrils, black and gold and silver and blue bursting out of his arms, legs, chest, even cheeks. The strange tendrils lashed out at the river of liquid metal, sinking into it, fusing with it, and bonding.

But the metal fought back. With extreme prejudice.

He didn’t know how, but something about the chamber seemed to suddenly add a concept to the metal. There was no power behind it, nor was there any force or skill countering his invasion. Instead, there was this steady thrum of DEFIANCE— in large, capital letters —offering a resistance the likes of which he had no idea how to overcome.

At least, Lukas Aguilar the human had no idea. The Anomaly was a different story.

Power surged from him like a tsunami as a wave of pure pressure began devouring the metal. The aqāru was immediately drawn to the feeling, as it seemed to literally drink it. To absorb it and become wholly intimate with it.

He wasn’t sure when he began screaming. Silently, in his mind— or whatever remained of his mind as his consciousness tore itself apart —a strange, immaterial emptiness began to swallow him. A dark, endless hollowness began overtaking his very soul. Memories swam in his head, his mind flickering through them at light-speed, looking, scanning, analyzing, rejecting at inexplicable speeds. For a fraction of a moment, he felt himself focus on a very familiar image—

The creature of metal lashed out again, one of its sleek tendrils surging from the pool. But power continued to roll out from him, thrashing the tendril back and blowing away all remnants of such resistance. Even now, Lukas didn’t quite feel pain. Mostly, his body just seemed confused about what was going on. One moment, it would be sweltering hot, and the next was freezing. Nothing felt like it was moving right, and his balance was all over the place.

Just— just a little more, he told himself. Just a little—

And then it was all gone.

Complete silence overtook the cavern.

Lukas blinked, seeing the turbulent pool of aqāru start to settle down. Exhausted, he staggered forward, before falling to a knee and panting like a dog. The spell had taken a rather hefty physical toll on him, and he slammed a hand into the ground to steady himself. Or, at least he tried to— his actual movements were far feebler than he had intended.

“It is done.”

He stared at the tendrils that began to froth, before shape slowly formed among them. The thing then soared up from its vessel and contorted itself mid-flight into a strange blob-like figure. Its outer metallic surface shone malevolently as two shiny tendrils rose, ready to pierce him at the slightest display of hostility.

Lukas took a step back, his eyes widened in both alarm and fascination as the still-morphing blob continued swaying back and forth in the air.

And then, it landed on the ground.

There was no doubt in his mind that it was some kind of slime. For an anomaly that called itself the Crypt of Fiendish Worms, this place was horrifically obsessed with the concept of slime. Not that slimes were weak or anything. Given their ability to shapeshift and monstrous strength, they were quite frankly nightmarish to face in combat.

But this wasn’t your typical slime. At least, not like the ones he’d seen thus far.

For one, it didn’t look like a worm.

It was a blob.

A metallic, shiny, blob.

Lukas took a careful step forward.

The blob shifted again. But instead of positioning itself to strike, it rolled onto its back almost… lazily? Tiny tentacles wiggled out of its end, and Lukas shot backward, readying a pulse of lifeforce to send out in case they grew to become dangerously long and sharp like all the other monsters.

Or maybe a ranged attack? Is it going to shoot?

Alongside the tendrils, a mouth began to tear itself open. And with nothing short of utter malevolence, the creature opened its newly created maw and spoke its first words.

“MEOWWWW?!?”