Gem expected Chesu to wake up at some point during the process of populating his dungeon. It never occurred to him that the wisp could sleep right through the affair. But by the time he got going on making decisions and calculating out exactly where he wanted mobs to be, he barely noticed the wisp’s snarky commentary or fount of knowledge.

In fact, it wasn’t until he was building his Boss’s Mob Heart that the wisp blearily floated into Gem’s Core Room, and Gem was concentrating too hard to even acknowledge.

The Hallow Boss Heart was a thing of beauty.

If the regular Hallow Heart was gorgeous—and it was—the Boss Heart was infinitely more so. The surface was oblong, rounded at the corners and full of thousands of tiny faucets that didn’t just catch the light but grabbed it and held on like some mourning lover. It was breathtaking and made Gem’s Core feel plain in comparison.

“Never gets old, seeing that,” Chesu said as he made his way closer.

Gem could see the reflections of the Heart’s thousands of tiny rainbows in the wisp’s eyes.

“No. Not fully. Sander tried to meet the requirements before picking his theme, but… well… the Ostrum waits for no Core.”

The wisp shrugged, but Gem could see the pain that he tried to mask with the casual motion. “Past is past. So let’s get focused on the future of this world, shall we?” He motioned to the Heart floating in front of Gem. “Whatcha doing with that?”

Gem paused when the wisp’s face fell.

“Good, good.” The wisp motioned towards the Heart again. “Have you figured out what mob base you’re using?”

Gem sent the wisp an image of a nodding core. He noted, briefly, that his animated images were getting better. Smoother, less disjointed.

Chesu nodded and his eyes took on a distant look. Gem assumed he looked through his own interface. It was confirmed when the wisp said: “ah, yeah. You get a lot of mobs that work well in large groups, and you can’t really do that with a Boss Heart.”

Something akin to greed crossed the wisp’s face and then vanished before it could dig in. “Let’s worry about that in the future, right?”

Gem sent that nodding core image again.

“But alright. Before you make the Flying Fox, I just need to ask… why didn’t you want to use the Mosqueevil?”

Gem paused, but mostly for dramatic effect.

The wisp stared at his Core, expectantly.

When Gem said nothing but sent him an image of a grinning crystal, Chesu groaned. “Ruxium give me strength. That is not your only reason for the choice, is it?”

Chesu laughed. It was a sharp, sudden laugh, as if he weren’t expecting the hurt in Gem’s thoughts. “Listen, kid. In my line of work you always expect the worst out of everyone. Keeps you from getting in dangerous situations. Can’t tell you how many horror stories I’ve heard of broken Cores trying to eat their wisps for mana sustain or sadistic Cores not telling mobs to keep from attacking the wisp.” He frowned. “Not everything is rainbows and well wishes.”

Such a thing was unfathomable to Gem. Well, at least the sadistic part. He wasn’t sure what made a Core broken, and now wasn’t the time to ask. But the idea that a Core could be aggressive like that… it just didn’t seem right.

When Gem didn’t say anything for a long time, Chesu shrugged. “Alright. I’m sorry for assuming you’re maliciously stupid, kid. Let’s keep going, yeah?”

Gem mentally shook himself. He sent the wisp a grimacing crystal.

“Whatever you’re imagining? It’s worse. But yes. Let’s… let’s ditch that topic for now. Boss Mobs. Why the Flying Fox?”

Gem broke down the three parts of his reasoning, starting, of course, with the Tank versus Flying Mob type. Magiphis was a tough foe, and acted as a damage check to make sure the Hero Cores were of a sufficient level and skill before they traveled to the second floor. But Magiphis was a bit of a pushover otherwise. There were no mechanics that meant tanks or healers had to think on their feet. Everyone could, for the most part, plant their feet and just keep firing.

He was afraid he wouldn’t be preparing the Hero Cores for the Ostrum properly if they just got used to that sort of fight.

Next he talked about aesthetics. Chesu had yet to see the Boss Room, but the Glass-block cube in the center of the arena was a show of what was to come. If there was a giant, lumbering beetle inside, the aesthetic of the room would be lost.

Gem’s secret hope was buried in the Flying Fox’s description. The word camouflage was used, which made Gem very excited. With a Hallow Heart, what if the Boss Mob could shift to be invisible? Or could mime the rainbow hues that permeated that room?

Lastly, there was the flying aspect. The Ostrum had winged units. He needed to not only have something that could take them on while his other forces faced ground units, but he needed to prepare the adventurers for dealing with things that could fly out of melee range or attack from afar. Not everything was going to be, as Chesu put it, rainbows and well wishes.

By the end of his monologue, Chesu was nodding firmly. “Good, good. You’ve done good, kid. I shouldn’t have doubted you.”

Chesu winced. “You built a whole floor without me. Again. I had to make sure you thought about every aspect of your dungeon, not only from the facing-down-adventurers angle, but from the preparing-for-and-fighting-the-Ostrum angle. It’s… I shouldn’t have been worried. I know. But there’s some part of me that will always be fretting, kid. This world is about to be destroyed. It’s kind of… an important thing to worry about.”

Gem sent the wisp an image of a smiling Core. This smile was softer, more comforting than his default smile.

“I know you won’t, kid. In my heart of hearts I know. But you can’t ask a tiger to change its stripes in one day.”

Gem sent another image, this time of a grinning crystal.