Time. It was meaningless in the depths of stone and mana, but Ethan became vaguely aware of its passing. Sleep had been restful—more than rest, it had been restorative. He no longer felt hollow or barely aware.
Mana pulsed within him, like an invisible tide that surged and breathed through his crystalline body.
"I'm back," he thought, and the very notion echoed within the chamber of his core. His thoughts were clearer now. Brighter. Sharper. Like the difference between a fogged-up mirror and clean glass.
He pulsed once, a natural instinct, and his core glowed a gentle indigo from within. He could feel the mana again, full and replenished.
"Okay. First lesson… don't burn through all your mana again."
The memory of draining himself to unconsciousness came with no pain—only an echoing sense of caution. Whatever he'd become, it was still bound by the laws of this new body. And mana, it seemed, was his lifeblood.
He turned his awareness inward. Not metaphorically—literally. His crystalline consciousness flexed inward and examined the flow of energy that now defined his very being.
Inside, a swirling pool of gaseous light churned in a hypnotic spiral. Deep indigo and violet hues, tinged with traces of silver. Mana. His mana. Not random wild energy, but something responsive to thought. To will.
"So this is my core," he mused. "Like a mana heart."
He observed it with growing fascination. He could sense it moving through the dungeon flesh—powering his tendrils, feeding his awareness. He imagined it like an engine, but unlike any engine on Earth.
He exhaled—not with lungs, but with purpose.
Mana poured outward from his crystal heart and into the dungeon flesh he had spread through the stone. As it escaped, something shifted. Where before his perception had only extended inches beyond his flesh into surrounding rock, now it exploded outward.
Vision—not with eyes, but with some kind of new.. mana-sense—spread through the cavern beyond.
"Whoa."
Where before the darkness was complete, now it was revealed in shimmering layers. The cavern stretched dozens of meters in all directions. Glimmering particles of mana floated lazily in the air like dust motes caught in a sunbeam. Walls were jagged with broken stone and mineral veins, and long-dead mining tools littered the floor in rusted pieces.
He saw it all. Mana had given him sight beyond physical form.
"This place… it was a mine." His thoughts grew sharper, more precise. "But not for metal. These stones… they they contain mana!"
Indeed, embedded in the cavern walls were tiny, glinting blue shards. Mana Stones—residual fragments of whatever had once been harvested here.
He shifted his attention. In a high crevice of the ceiling, shadows fluttered.
Bats.
A hundreds, thousands or more, hanging still and silent. Some twitched. A few crawled slightly along the stone, wings tucked tight to their bodies. They didn't react to his mana at all.
"They didn't flee when I moved into the shaft with my tendrils earlier. It doesn't look like I can be perceived easily."
He focused. The dungeon flesh extending through stone now began to move again—slowly, deliberately. Instead of blindly pushing, he now shaped it with intention. Thin tendrils slid into the air of the cavern, spreading like roots in search of light.
The bats didn't notice.
He couldn't feel heat, or touch, but mana-based perception filled in the blanks. He could sense the bats. Their warmth, the flow of blood, the mana drifting in and out of their tiny forms like faint auras.
He paused.
Below the roosts, the cavern floor was littered with old guano. Dried, cracked, decomposing piles of it. Even in death, matter remained. Decay was just another form of transformation.
"It seems I've been passively absorbing matter and mana while unconscious," he realized. "But what if I do it on purpose?"
Curious, he extended his flesh into the muck.
Immediately recoiling the tendril, "Fuck! Dammit all! How did I forget I could taste with this stupid tendrils?!" He gagged and raged mentally
"There is no way this is normal, even for a dungeon core.." he mused mentally
Realization struck. Most aspects of his new being were controled by force of will. Maybe.. Just maybe, he could will the sense of taste to only function close to the core.
And with considerable effort of will, Ethan strained in his mind, willing for the change into life. All of a sudden he felt something shift within himself.
He lost all sense of taste, an entire sense just gone.
It was an eerie feeling, but he knew instinctually he could now more easily will it back into his being if he needed to.
"Alright, back to the task at hand.. lets try this again"
Slowly, a tentacle extended into the black goop.. realizing things worked out as he intended many others extended as well, delving deep into the decaying matter.
Then he willed the matter and mana to be converted and absorbed. The reaction was immediate. Like drawing air into lungs after drowning.
Mana flowed. Not fast—just a slow, steady trickle. His dungeon flesh pulsed with warmth, nutrients, energy. But more than that… information.
His mind lit up.
"What the hell—?!"
There was no confusion, no static. Data entered his mind, but it wasn't like reading a book. It was like understanding a structure by becoming it. Molecular chains, bone composition, cellular functions—he knew them.
The entire biological makeup of a bat unraveled in his mind like a blueprint file loading into a database.
"Cranial bone density… echolocation mechanism… wing membrane elasticity… fur pattern distribution… this is…" he trailed off, overwhelmed and fascinated. "It's all just there for me to recall freely..."
Somewhere in the stone shell that encased him, his crystalline core pulsed with increasing light.
He turned to a nearby bat corpse, long-dead but mummified by the dry air. His flesh engulfed it slowly, and again, mana and data flowed in.
"Well it's Confirmed. I can absorb both organic material and residual mana." He pulsed with satisfaction. "Efficient. Very efficient, I can feel myself.. growing?"
It was clear, the bats had resided here for a very very long time based on the sheer quantity.
He pushed further, drawing in piles of guano and desiccated remains. It wasn't much in the grand scheme of things—but each absorbed fragment added to him. Replenished mana. Reinforced flesh. Expanded memory. And always, new data.
But more importantly… he could now direct it.
For the first time, he felt his thoughts come faster. Cleaner. The crystalline brain was beginning to show its true nature.
"No fatigue. No forgetfulness. My memory… is perfect. Man, I wish I had this ability back on earth. Studying for exams, certifications, and even remembering names or directions would have been so easy!" he quietly lamented to himself.
Every bat. Every cell. Every detail he absorbed was retained with crystal clarity.
Instincts flared "I could build one, if I wanted." His thoughts turned speculative. "I could make a creature out of this. If I had enough resources, I could replicate it exactly. But not yet."
No, not yet. For now, it was just knowledge and he had more to do.
The mana trickle continued as he absorbed tiny mana stones hidden within the surrounding walls. Fragmented, low-grade, and ancient—but even these crumbs added to his growing pool.
He looked inward again.
His mana pool had grown. Visibly. The swirling gas within his crystal had brightened and thickened—like storm clouds forming in a vortex.
"I'm not just surviving anymore," he thought, reverent. "I'm.. evolving? How far can I grow in this world? Will it be like one of the fantasy novels I've read in the past? It doesn't seem impossible seeing as what has happened already on earth and here."
There was a strange satisfaction in understanding himself. In using logic, method, and analysis to make sense of a body and world completely alien to him.
"I'm not lost. I'm not helpless. I'm still me."
That realization was a small anchor in the storm.
He extended more flesh through the cavern walls, moving carefully now, deliberately avoiding collapse points and ancient mine reinforcements. His senses spread further—mapping out the terrain, searching for more resources.
But already, his mana was beginning to strain again.
"Right. Right. Lesson number one." He winced mentally. "Don't burn all your mana."
He stopped extending himself and focused on absorbing the ambient mana in the caverns atmosphere and walls.
"So I can't push endlessly. There's a limit. But each time… I learn something."
He sat in silence for a while. Not because he needed to—but because he could. He was a bit of a loner and introvert in his past life, so this wasn't torture just yet. But he knew from documentary's that people can only stay sane in pure isolation for so long... He would have to reach the surface, to find something to anchor his mind better than a dark cave. He wanted to see the sky again, or at least some plants and animals.
He wasn't sure if he needed sleep anymore. The crystalline brain didn't fatigue, and the mana core didn't flicker. But something instinctive within him suggested rest. Stillness. Time to process.
So he did.
He let the cavern grow quiet again. He watched the bats sleep, safe and undisturbed. He let the slow dance of mana drift through the air, painting glowing arcs across his extended perception.
"This world…" he whispered into his own mind. "It's going to be mine. But not through conquest. Through understanding. There is so much to learn and record. I'm not sure I like this.. body? But it certainly has advantages."
And with that final thought, Ethan let himself drift—not into sleep, but into stillness.
A dungeon, resting. Growing. Watching.