For quite some time, that remote region of Kenya had been bothering me. Something was off, you could feel it. Strange anomalies, a kind of diffuse disturbance, an almost imperceptible unease that seemed to hover over both animals and vegetation. Impossible to pinpoint, but obvious: this park, usually so full of life, had somehow lost its vigor. Everything felt slowed down, frozen even, as if—without knowing how—some invisible hand had jammed the essential gears keeping it alive.
Me, a trained biologist, I did what I knew best: search, dig, compare. But nothing held up. Reports piled up, analyses too, and every time the same dead end. Leads vanished before my eyes, clues evaporated the moment I thought I had them. No matter how I turned the problem over… it kept slipping away.
So they sent me into the field to dig deeper: observe, collect samples, dissect every detail, try—finally—to understand what was throwing this piece of the world I thought I knew so well out of balance.
Days went by. Then weeks. Then entire months of roaming the same ground, setting up sensors, camera traps, analyzing the water, the soil, the air. The results piled up, but still nothing, absolutely nothing concrete. Every hypothesis crumbled sooner or later. No matter how hard I worked, the mystery held firm.
But giving up? Not my style. This park, this ecosystem… it was almost part of me. No way I'd abandon it. I knew there was a cause, somewhere. Invisible, yes, but real. It had to be found.
And then one day, out of nowhere, everything flipped. I was crossing an arid area of the park when my foot caught on a root. I stumbled hard, landing right at the base of a solitary tree. A Faidherbia albida: that iconic savanna acacia, massive, twisted, its thin branches raised toward the sky like weary arms. All around, the soil was cracked, parched to the bone.
And there, at the base of the trunk, I saw it. An improbable mass of green: shiny, thick, almost slimy, pulsing under the light. My first thought: an illusion, or maybe some strange mold. But no, it was real.
I stayed back. Took out my instruments, observed, jotted notes, tested, for days. Nothing moved. Just lay there, inert. Little by little, that stillness began to reassure me. And one morning, I told myself: it's time.
I reached out to take a sample… And that's when everything turned upside down. Not a slight tremor, not a little shiver. No: in one sharp, violent motion, that thing grabbed me. Literally swallowed me whole.
I felt my body tipping into a bottomless void, swept through a tunnel that felt nothing like anything on Earth. Flashes, lights, sparkles all around me, as if I were being sucked into another world. I floated, but I was rushing forward at breakneck speed, completely helpless.
Then suddenly, it all stopped. I looked up… and saw her. Huge. Unreal. A sort of goddess. Her skin seemed made of light, almost transparent. Her hair floated around her like veils of mist, and her eyes… abysses, as if entire galaxies were passing through them. She said nothing, but everything about her radiated a colossal peace. Behind her, gigantic, translucent wings vibrated softly, like a breath.
And then, a thought rose up, crystal clear: So that's it. It's not me who's incompetent. It's not my tools failing. It's just… this isn't scientific.
And without even thinking about it, I smiled. A real smile, spontaneous. The first in months, maybe.
She looked at me, unblinking. A chill ran through me, sharp, like the air itself had charged with electricity. My smile faltered, then faded, without me deciding to. I felt… read. Read from the inside out. Her gaze dove into me, searching everywhere, even into those dark corners I'd never dared visit myself. I stood there, frozen, exposed, vulnerable like never before.
So this is it, I thought. Facing something… greater than yourself. I, who had never believed in such things, never had faith in anything, wavered. But… was she really a goddess?
— Yes, I am a goddess, she replied.
Her voice… how to describe it? It vibrated with a beauty that was almost unbearable. Warm and icy all at once, soft and cutting. A voice made of distant echoes, yet so close. Each word rang out, resonating like a perfect note that wouldn't let go, seeping everywhere, even into my bones. She spoke the way the wind might, if the wind could talk: immense, fluid, and carrying an unfathomable mystery.
— So… you can read my thoughts too, I whispered. No point thinking silently, I guess.
— Correct.
I paused, a bit stunned.
— May I… know why I was brought here?
— I was just getting to that, she said. Usually, your kind takes longer to regain their senses.
— I'm a very rational person, I murmured. When the facts are there… I adapt fast.
She nodded, a flicker of amusement in her eyes.
— I can see that. Well… you were summoned to manage a dungeon.
She paused, seeming to weigh her words, then continued:
— Thanks to these dungeons, everything progresses here. The economy, access to resources, territorial development… Everything improves because of them. They become focal points; local interests naturally gravitate toward them, which strengthens the economy over time. In short… these dungeons are vital for my world.
She kept going, not really giving me time to process:
— That's why I summon people who are capable of managing them.
— I imagine it's not exactly restful, I murmured.
— No, she confirmed, her tone perfectly calm. You'll start in a completely barren place.
I frowned.
— Barren…? That sounds impossible.
She gave a small smile, almost playful.
— Let me explain how a dungeon works.
She stepped closer, her voice still so clear, almost wrapping around me.
— Inside, you'll be like a god. You'll be able to manage everything thanks to a dedicated system. And over time, if you have the skill… you'll even be able to expand it, turning it into a true world of its own. It will all depend on you.
Her words ricocheted inside me, and despite the shock of the moment, an unexpected thrill was rising: creating… shaping an entire ecosystem? Breathing life into a world? It was dizzying. My mind, so used to dissecting nature from every angle, was already spinning: food chains, biotopes, fragile balances I could orchestrate… I was breathless, intoxicated by the feeling of touching something forbidden.
She paused before adding, more calmly:
— At the heart of the dungeon is what we call… the Core. It's what binds you to that place. From now on, you are immortal. You cannot die… unless that Core is destroyed.
I stared at her, fascinated, my brain buzzing. The fear, yes, it was still there, lurking somewhere, but it was being drowned out by this burning curiosity, this wild desire to test, experiment, invent.
She went on, unfazed:
— You'll also have access to a purchase system. You'll be able to acquire life: fauna, flora, various creatures… and enhancements for your dungeon. But that, I'll let you discover on your own.
A shiver of anticipation ran through me. Like holding a living laboratory in my hands, but… on a cosmic scale.
— The currency… is souls, she explained calmly. Those of animals, plants, humans who die inside… whatever perishes in your dungeon, you'll receive souls in return. Their value will depend on the power of the soul. And you'll be able to reinvest those gains to keep developing your domain.
I was having a hard time staying still. Part of me was already buzzing to dive headfirst into this insane system. Everything was to be invented, to be built. The stakes were immense… but the prospect, exhilarating.
She locked eyes with me, an intensity that made my heart race.
— I think you're beginning to understand why I summoned you.
— Completely, but… I began, still a bit dazed.
She cut me off, with that same disarming calm:
— Yes, your park in Kenya is doing better now. That was just a pretext to bring you here.
I stood there, momentarily speechless, then a smile crept across my face.
— Well… no regrets. And I'm ready to risk my life, if I must, for all this.
She nodded, looking pleased.
— I expected nothing less from you. There are many things you'll discover on your own… Like the underworld, for instance, where dungeon creators can meet, exchange. But I'll let you enjoy exploring that through the system.
She stepped back slightly, her wings shimmering softly.
— We'll meet again there.
And suddenly, a strange intuition crossed my mind: this world… it too had been created from a dungeon. I looked up, awestruck.
— Magnificent… I murmured, almost to myself.
She smiled, her eyes sparkling.
— Yes, I think it's magnificent too.
Then she lifted her head slightly, her tone more serious:
— Good luck in your quest. Never underestimate humans… that's often where the real danger lies. And I look forward to conversing more deeply with you in the underworld. Good luck.
I stared at her, a mix of gratitude and impatience surging through me.
— Thank you… thank you for this chance.
And without another word, the light engulfed me. Everything vanished.