I splashed water on my face at the sink then looked up at my reflection in the mirror of my apartment bathroom as I dried my face off with a towel. Dark circles had formed under my eyes over the past week as I spent many sleepless nights checking and rechecking every single detail that was going into the dungeon. Anxiety twisted my stomach into knots, and even when I had time to sleep I struggled to do so.

I took a deep breath and steeled myself against the anxious feeling, pushing it down.

“You can do this,” I told my reflection. “You’ve been over it a thousand times. There are no flaws. The dungeon will work.”

Long weeks had passed since the gala, and construction on the facilities that would surround the dungeon had finally been brought to completion. We had gotten word the previous day that everything was ready for me to create the dungeon. Contrary to what you would think, the wait had been the opposite of relaxing as I waited for my moment to arrive. Doubts crept into my mind and my anxiety reached new heights as I found myself in a position where I could do nothing but wait. The more perfect the plan seemed the more anxious I grew as I was forced to sit and do nothing but envision my failure.

As soon as Damien had received the call from Jacques yesterday I felt a moment of relief followed by renewed anxiety, but this time my anxiety had an outlet, a purpose, and a more immediate time limit which made it so much more bearable. One way or another, today would resolve any issues in the dungeon. Either I’d fail for I’d succeed, and I’d deal with either as they arose.

I left the bathroom and quickly changed into the clothes Damien had forced me to prepare for today. The outfit for the gala had only been the beginning. Now that we had money, Damien insisted I furnish my wardrobe so it would be full of proper business attire, which I discovered had a strange balance between the discomfort of the formal clothes I had worn for the gala and the functionality, durability, and comfort required for day to day tasks.

As I finished tucking a white in color collared shirt into the waste line of the light gray slacks, I tightened a belt at my waist and examined myself in the mirror. I looked strange in my own eyes, but both Damien and the tailor had assured me that it was a professional and fitting look. Personally I thought I looked awkward, like a person trying to ape the grace and manners of the wealthy. I shrugged away my discomfort, letting my anxiety over what was to come fill me with tension that kept me focused on the task ahead.

I ran through my plans for the dungeon once more in my head, as I pulled out my holophone to call Damien. He answered quickly, but the connection was once again spotty and I shook my head in frustration. In general I was very happy with my quiet little apartment on the edge of Asance, but the poor connection to the holonet was an ongoing frustration as I discovered it even impeded my ability to use my tablet to access the virtual library for some of the more common texts I’d referenced over the past weeks as I checked and rechecked my plans.

I had developed a theory that my proximity to the Wall was the problem. The Wall was a working of great magic, and in many ways could be viewed as a living artifact. The sheer amount of magic poured into its construction likely resulted in residual radiation that, while not enough to affect anyone who had been altered by Janus’ coming, appeared to be strong enough to disrupt the signal the Holophone and other devices used to connect to the rest of the world. I didn’t profess to understand how that worked, and was grateful I didn’t have to learn about it as the few required classes on Magical Engineering when I entered the University had been enough to overload my brain as I tried to draw the connection between mathematical theorem and the mystic nature of magic.

The professors of the class had insisted the issue was in my viewpoint that magic wasn’t science based, but as someone who remembered watching shows and movies where magic was anything but science based I found the idea of studying it systematically annoying...a strange irony when my own ability to use it was literally based on a system provided by Janus. Still, I was comfortable in my ignorance.

Ending the call as the connection was too choppy to understand Damien, I quickly sent him a message that I was ready. I turned away from my holophone as it struggled to send the message, and took some calming breaths. He’d arranged for a car to pick us up this time in honor of the occasion. While the expense still seemed wasteful to me, I couldn’t deny that I had come to enjoy the comfort of a clean, air conditioned car with comfortable seats. It was a very different experience from taking a hovercab, and I had to admit I liked it even if my heart hurt to think of the expense.

The message sent and he replied to tell me that the car should be at my apartment soon. A few minutes later I heard a car horn honking a couple of times. I pushed down the anxiety and left my apartment, the door automatically locking behind me. I quickly walked out to the car. I was surprised to see a driver standing next to the car. Sheo me in greeting as she opened the door for me to get in and I nodded back.

“Thank you,” I said as I got inside and sat down. She closed the door and got in the driver’s seat. Though she wouldn’t be doing the actual driving, she would be at the wheel in case something went wrong with the programming.

Still, it seemed an unnecessary expense, and was usually reserved for those who went far beyond the city limits, or even joined trade convoys to other city states. I almost raised it to Damien, but I didn’t want to start another argument about money so I kept myself to a single comment with a raised eyebrow.

“A driver? Really?”

He shook his head. “Not my idea. My sister insisted we have a driver in case something went wrong, though I can’t imagine what would go wrong within the city limits. She seemed especially concerned about you,” he added wryly.

I felt a small thrill at the idea that she would be concerned about me, but the familiar shame at my own weakness overshadowed it and firmed my resolve towards today. I might not be able to become personally powerful, but if I could build up enough money and connections I could still have some form of power. In some ways, money and connections were superior to personal power. Most people would never become as powerful as the original generation that survived Janus’ coming. Most people didn’t have the resolve to do so. I only had vague memories of those days, though it was strange as I was old enough to remember more of them. What I do remember was always being afraid. Having to be quiet as we hid. I didn’t remember how my parents died, though I remember being found hidden in a bush by the earliest generation of Guardians. That was the day I came to Asance.

The memory left me feeling disquieted and I shook my head to dismiss it, pushing it away to focus on the present. The powerful became powerful because if they didn’t they would have died. These days, with the threat of death so abstract as the only Monsters and Beasts capable of threatening humanity kept away from human territories after the battles back then taught them that any victory would be pyrrhic. As a result, the threat of death was greatly reduced and more people survived, but the average strength of people sharply dropped. Thus, a huge power gap developed between my generation and the previous.

Even if I wasn’t a Dungeon Maker I would never compare with them in personal power. The only way to compete with them would be to build up resources to the point that you could stand on equal footing. Today would be the start.

The car quickly navigated the streets to the site where I would create the dungeon in the Industrial District that Jacques had previously shown us. As the car slowed to a stop, I got out of the car with Damien and greeted an excited looking Jacques.