Executing the Exchange command, Franklin finds himself confronted with the following readout:

Source Material

Destination Material

-

-

Please specify materials and quantities to continue.

In the Source Material box, he has three options: calcium, carbon and oxygen. This makes sense, as these are the only elements for which he has non-zero quantities of in his reservoir. For the Destination Material selections, he sees a list of about a hundred or so possible elements, including O-Points. Messing around with some of the combinations, he realizes that there is a conversion factor at play when exchanging one material for another.

For example, he finds that one unit of carbon yields 142 units of calcium approximately, meaning more calcium comes out of the system than carbon put in, while the reverse is true as well, that is, it takes 142 units of calcium to convert to one unit of carbon, meaning less carbon comes out of the system than calcium put in.

“Interesting, so it’s symmetrically reversible… sort of,” he says, and by which he means that while the conversion factor is indeed symmetric, there is, however, a huge asymmetry in the associated AP cost, insofar as the AP cost appears to be tied with the quantity of source material being processed. So, while it only costs one AP to convert one gram of carbon to 142 gram of calcium, to get that same gram of carbon back requires 142 AP to Exchange 142 grams of calcium. The asymmetry then implies a 142-fold difference in AP cost, which scales based on the mass to be processed, meaning minor efficiencies can compound exponentially in short order.

Franklin switches out of the Exchange menu, looking under Stats instead, his eyes scanning for the AP, or action point, entry. He finds it near the middle, reading,

AP

990 / 1000

He frowns when he sees the value, now less four from when he had used Decompose on the limestone earlier. “1000 AP at 1 AP per gram…” he says, “So, 1 kilogram of material to be transmuted, be it through Decompose or Exchange…”

Certainly, it is not a lot to work with, meaning efficiency is that much more important, and so he’ll have to think carefully about which elements, and in which order, to Exchange to best account for the AP asymmetry.

“Actually, if I do this..” he mumbles, rearranging the elements in his head, “... I might even be able to save a few AP… interesting.” He nods to himself, making a mental note of his potential exploit before moving on to the final thing of interest in the exchange menu, O-Points.

He has seen the term mentioned during the Decompose step, but did not understand its purpose at the time. Now what he discovers is that apparently any source material can be converted to O-Points, indicating that its function might be that of a universal element of sorts. Of course, these exchanges also have their own conversion rates. For example, calcium can be exchanged for O-Points at a 14:1 rate. Moreover, it appears that oxygen can convert at a 1:1 rate, leading him to believe that perhaps O-Points actually stands for oxygen-points. It is not clear to him at this moment, however, why anyone will want to use the system this way though, given that there is a clear AP inefficiency in the sense that two exchanges will be required instead of just one for each material to material conversion (A to O-Point to B).

Setting aside the matter of O-Points for the moment, Franklin decides to test, out of simple curiosity, how much calcium will be needed to get a single gram of gold. The result draws a bemused smile to his lips. Reading from the screen, he finds that, apparently, it will require 10.14 million grams of calcium, or approximately the weight of 5 automobiles.

“All the milk in the world won’t suffice, I suppose,” he muses.

It’s clear from the numbers that he is not going to be transmuting gold anytime soon. But that is fine with him, as that is not his primary goal at the moment. Instead, what has piqued his curiosity is the potential for the synthesis of iron (Fe). According to the system, each gram of calcium will actually convert to 1.4 grams of iron, meaning he gets more mass than he started with. Alternatively, he can also spend 10 O-Points to get 1 gram of iron.

Since he still doesn’t comprehend why anyone would choose the less efficient O-Point system, he goes with the direct conversion instead, selecting calcium as his Starting Material and iron as his Destination Material.

Exchange 0.8 grams of Calcium to 1.12 grams of Iron. This action will consume 1 AP. Proceed?

Franklin dies a little inside when he notes that the AP consumed automatically rounds up to the nearest whole number, using 1 instead of 0.8, resulting in an efficiency loss of 0.2 AP. Sucking it up, however, he confirms with a, “[Yes].”

While no outward change can be seen this time, Franklin notes that his reservoir has indeed updated, now reading:

Material

Quantity (Grams)

O-Points

0

Carbon (C, 12)

0.24

Iron (Fe, 56)

1.12

Oxygen (O, 16)

0.96

“Nice. Two steps down, one to go.”

****

As the saying goes, there is the good, the bad and the ugly. Let’s start with the good, shall we?

The good news is that Materialize works. Franklin finds that he is able to select the material from his reservoir, in this case, iron, and manifest it back into the world. The actual process itself is rather mundane without much fanfare. There are no flashing lights or ominous chants, no Ding Ding Ding sound effects. After executing the command, a small lump simply poofs! into existence in the palm of his hand. All good. But now comes the bad.

The bad news is that the Materialize command is rather inefficient in two ways, he finds. First, there is significant mass loss in the process. According to the system confirmation message, he should be spawning a little more than a gram of material into existence. Instead, by his estimation, only about a half of a gram actually manifests, or an efficiency of about 50%. Second, there does not appear to be a way to either specify an exact chemical formula to use or select multiple elements at once. This is a rather critical point because, as he discovers, simply selecting just iron as the material does not guarantee the spawn of pure iron. He can tell by the reddish hue and texture, comparing it to images stored in his recollection, that what he holds in his hand is more akin to iron ore, hematite if he has to speculate, than pure elemental iron. The reason for this hiccup is not entirely clear to him, though if he has to hazard a guess, since he cannot feed in additional parameters like an exact chemical composition or adjoining elements, the system perhaps simply chooses the form that an element most naturally occurs in as the one to manifest. For iron, then, this will be some kind of iron oxide (Fe2O3), hematite being the prime example. Of course, this is all still speculation, since he has only materialized a single element, and certainly further testing will be required before he can determine anything conclusively.

This all being said then, what he has effectively accomplished through this process of Decompose, Exchange and Materialize is to convert approximately four grams of limestone into half a gram of raw iron ore, with some material leftover for further transmutations.

Now these results, on the one hand, are rather disappointing, for the manual had made it seem that direct conversion between substances of matter was possible in theory, and he had been quite looking forward to the amusing sight of turning lead into gold, as the ancient tales oft spoke of. In fact, it had somewhat been his raison d'etre for choosing dungeon core over something like, say, hero. On the other hand…

Iron ore, baby!

As he glances around his barren cavern, he can already see the potential in his mind's eye. In that corner, a rolling conveyor belt of raw materials, feeding into industrial processing machinery. In the other corner, an array of blast furnaces, humming away. Pig iron, steel, gears, engines, robotics! The possibilities seem endless to the intrepid engineer, and his disappointment stemming from the limitations of Transmute quickly get overshadowed by the prospects of setting up a thriving, ever expanding factory.

He nods to himself, a new goal in place.

A factory this shall become. Ah, but one last thing, before I forget. I’ve mentioned the good and the bad, but you didn’t think I forgot about the ugly, did you? Well, this one is short and simple.

Your mom.

****

In all seriousness, the true ugly is the layout of the cavern Franklin finds himself in. Well, technically, since he is the cavern and the cavern is he, he finds himself rather ugly as a dungeon. This is in the same way that he finds modern art to be ugly, what with its abstract designs and lack of precision. As an engineer, Franklin is all about logic, symmetry and alignment. His dungeon, he finds, is none of those things.

Having walked the winding space through, he finds that it is about 1000 square feet in size, or about a quarter the size of a basketball court, or roughly equal to the size of a one bedroom apartment. This means it is rather small and only takes a few minutes to walk from end to end. What bothers him is not the size, however, but the curvature of the walls, which appear uneven and without rhyme or reason, admittedly, as natural structures are apt to be, but this does not make it any less distasteful in his eyes. Piecing together a composite image in his mind, using his photographic memory to generate a map of his dungeon layout, he arrives at a visual which appear as follows:

Horrific, Franklin thinks to himself as a visceral shudder runs down his spine, This travesty needs to be rectified as soon as possible. The question is… how to go about doing so?

He picks up a sizable chunk of limestone from the floor, then walks up to the nearest wall, testing to see if it is possible to use the rock in his hand to chip away at the cavern. He doesn’t make much progress, however, for despite the wall being rather soft, he isn’t able to get much leverage with just the lump, and in the end, only a few scratches are created. “If only it were properly shaped, like a pickaxe or something…” he mumbles to himself, “Hold on… shape… shape… Oh right, didn’t the manual mention something about this?”

He closes his eyes, reciting the line, “‘... Dungeon construction through shaping of various floors is an essential aspect for a well maintained dungeon, allowing for proper adventurer engagement, monster housing and loot placement.’” Then opening his eyes once more, he continues, “So, given that it’s ‘essential’, there should be a relevant command, right?”

He investigates the System menus, and through trial and error, discovers there is indeed one called Construction, located under More Options. Executing it, he is further greeted by the following sub-commands:

1. Incorporate Land

2. Shape

3. Set Entry

4. More Options

“Incorporate Land, hm…I wonder what that does? Let’s try it. [Incorporate Land].”

Immediately, he is greeted by another error message, this time reading:

Error 742. Please try again.

Similar to before, Franklin cross references the code against the list he has memorized in his head, translating the error to read, “‘Invalid location. This command can only be used in The Wilderness.’” He raises an eyebrow, pondering the meaning. “The Wilderness.... Is that a location or... ? I mean, the error message implies as much but… wait… there were some portals labeled ‘The Wilderness’, right? Three, I remember, on the eastern side, while I was touring the dungeon. Hm, well, I can go check those out in a minute. Let’s try out number two first. [Shape].”

To his further disappointment, this command too is rejected, with a response showing:

Error 43. Please try again.

He translates this as, “‘You do not have sufficient levels to perform this action.’”

He frowns. At least tell me “what level” is required… He sighs, tapping a finger on his chin as he debates what to do next. “I mean, it was an off the cuff statement, but maybe a pickaxe really is the way to go…? Who knows how long it’ll take to get enough levels to use Shape? Or how to get experience even? Hm.” He pauses, then pulls up his Stats screen, taking a look at the relevant values:

Level

1

Current Exp

0 / 100

“So, one hundred experience to get to level two… Well, that’s great and all, but the manual kind of left out the part of how to actually get experience. I mean, I presume by defeating things? It had mentioned ‘adventurer engagement’, implying that adventurers would come here… But then again, who knows when that might happen… I’m not sure I’m content with just waiting around… On the other hand, the manual also implied there should be monsters in this world as well… Maybe that’s the better solution?”

He thinks a moment longer, then nods his head, confirming his plan aloud to himself, “Okay, here’s the short term goal. Since there doesn’t appear to be any monsters in this cavern, I’ll go explore a bit. I’m curious as to what else is in this world anyways, and... I think the portals should let me do that? I mean… they’re called ‘portals’… so… they should portal to somewhere, right? Somewhere with monsters I can defeat? And hopefully, that’ll earn me enough experience to level, so that the Shape command gets unlocked, so that I can start doing dungeon construction to spruce up the place and clear enough room for my factory to be built. Hm, probably a good place to start looking is in ‘The Wilderness’? It’ll let me try out the Incorporate Land command as well. Okay, let’s go with that.”

Course of action in place, Franklin begins to make his way out of the chamber housing his dungeon core, the blue gem that defies gravity by floating in the air. I’ll have to look into exactly what’s going on with that as well, when I get a chance, he thinks to himself. Then, he heads north through the tunnels, before making a quick detour west, to check out the portal that lies there, having spotted it earlier in his tour of the dungeon, but not having investigated it closely. As he approaches it, a message appears, which reads,

Portal To The Outside: ???

He makes several attempts at passage, however, each time he is spammed by a series of notifications that say,

You cannot go here.

You cannot go here.

You cannot go here.

Hm, that’s disconcerting… I wonder why I can’t use this particular portal… Can dungeon avatars not use portals at all? That’d throw a big wrench into my plans… I wonder if there’s a way around it...

A bit more apprehensive than when he started, he redirects course, returning to his original destination on the eastern end of his dungeon, and, arriving, he finds himself in a small alcove containing three additional portals, carved into the walls. Like the one to The Outside, these portals are arch like structures, with an amorphous violet substance comprising the interior. When he stares at one, a message fades into view above the keystone, reading:

Portal To The Wilderness: ???

The same message can be seen no matter which portal he looks at.

Franklin takes a step towards the nearest one, and when he does so, he finds that the portal begins to shimmer. “Okay, that’s a good sign. Well, at least a different sign. The Outside portal didn’t react to me at all. Does this mean I can use these?” He tries with each of the portals, approaching them in turn, and each time, the respective amorphous violet substance reacts by beginning to twinkle.

“I guess that means any of the three can work,” he says, “Well, they’re all question marks for now, so it doesn’t really matter which one, I suppose. Eeny, meeny, miny, moe… I choose… you!”

Franklin finds himself pointing to the center portal. He pauses for the briefest of moments, as a shadow of concern about potential dangers that might lie on the other side flicker through his mind. But then the feeling passes, and curiosity takes over, aided by his understanding that, according to the manual, so long as his dungeon core remains intact, he’ll be fine.. probably. “Okay, let’s see where this leads…” he mumbles, stepping into the portal.

Surrounded by the violet substance, immediately his vision begins to blur, his body fading like watercolor running off a page.

A moment later, and he’s vanished.