Between a Rock and a Carapace

13. Formo Returns

[Is there a particular reason why you sophos are so loud?]

[LOUD? WE’RE TALKING MENTALLY, YOU CRETIN. NOT A SOUND IS MADE!]

[Formo! You know exactly what I mean! Every time I form a Mind Bridge with a sophos, I’ve had my head rung like a bell. Can you tone it down a little?]

[WE ARE SIMPLY EXUBERANT, MY BOY! FULL OF BEANS!]

[I seriously doubt you eat beans, Formo.]

[WELL, NOT UNLESS IT WAS A BEAN MONSTER, I SUPPOSE!]

[Just, take it down a notch, please?]

[I SHALL—ahem. I shall try. I must say, young Anthony, I didn’t expect to see you again. Judging by your change in size, you’ve been quite productive over the course of the wave.]

[Well, once the colony got rolling, the wave was almost more help than harm.]

[Hmm… I wonder if you understand why that might have been the case.]

[I’m not sure what you mean.]

[No matter. Come, my boy, let us wander this way. My domicile is found near the forge.]

Continuing our stroll through the sophos community, I’m not sure what I expected, but the place is more humble than I’d assumed it’d be. After my first meeting with Formo, I envisioned the sophos to be an all-powerful community of core shapers without compare, living in the lap of luxury. That isn’t the case.

The village is built along wide tunnels, with domiciles carved out of the rock. I asked where the giant worms and such lived, and was informed most of them live in holding areas beneath the village—bit surprised at that. I thought they’d treat their pets a little better, considering how much they rely on them.

Tiny and Crinis have been sent down there, as pets are discouraged in the upper levels. I’ve been assured they’ll be treated with the utmost respect, and I really have no option but to trust them. Formo has never steered me wrong—yet.

The other thing that strikes me is the total lack of Mana veins. The walls are bizarrely clear of them, light instead being provided by a series of core powered lighting installations. I’m pretty darn interested in learning how the heck they do that, but Formo was cagey about it when I asked. Damn you, you bulbous-headed sophos! Give me your secrets!

On top of all that, there are so few sophos. Most of them look fairly similar, the defining feature being the mottled colouring of their skin. Most have green skin, but some have patches of red or blue, even orange. Other than that, their featureless faces appear the same from one to the next. Mind you, they would probably say the same about us ants.

[I don’t see a whole lot of your people around, Formo. Is it a market day or something? People sleeping in?]

[What? Of course not! There just aren’t many of us. We’ve worked hard to ruffle the Dungeon’s feathers, and it doesn’t appreciate it, not a whit! The spawn rate for sophos is abysmally low as a result.]

Even I can tell how bitter he is from his tone.

[How does that even work? The Dungeon just up and decided your people were monsters?]

[BAH! You touch on a sore subject, old boy. We don’t much like talking about it, but when the opportunity to rant about the Dungeon pops up, who am I to pass it up?]

[I’m sure I wouldn’t know.]

[INDEED! My people were underground dwellers long before the Dungeon appeared. When Mana began to seep through the ground, we were the first to experience and make use of it. When the Dungeon tunnels connected to ours, we were the first to come into contact with monsters and battle them. The surfacers ignored our warnings and laughed at our pleas for help. I have to say, their attitude towards us was much the same back then as it is now.]

[That’s terrible.]

[STIFF UPPER LIP AND ALL THAT, OLD SPORT! It’s tough to keep a good sophos down! We adapted, thrived even! But things began to change. After hundreds of years, we were so steeped in the Mana of the Dungeon that the stupid System couldn’t differentiate between us and monsters. In an instant, like a switch was flipped, we lost our classes, couldn’t bear young, our Levels were gone, and only Biomass could sate us.]

My mind is boggled. What a tragedy! How the heck did they survive?

[Just step this way. That was more than a thousand years ago, and there are some of us still alive from that time. We were nearly wiped out, I’m afraid to say; it was a close run. Luckily, we’d relied on our pets from the outset, and they did not desert us. Now, we build our settlements around any spawn point we know has produced a sophos, and we battle against the Dungeon wherever we can.]

[How do you actually fight the Dungeon? Is it a thing you can hit? I thought it was more of a nebulous sort of… entity.]

I’m not sure how much I should share about my conversations with a mind that seems to think it runs the show around here. The sophos may already know about it, or they might pin me down and dissect me. They’re pretty anti-System in general. Probably best if I play it cool.

[Oh, there is much about the Dungeon that can be learned, even when it doesn’t want you to. It is also possible to work against the interests of the Dungeon, once you know what it wants. For example, have you seen the Expert Profile of a creature after consuming a ton of it?]

Ah, the profiles! I’ve unlocked a heap of those after all the fighting and eating that’s gone on over the last few weeks. Honestly, I haven’t been bothered to read through them all. I actually unlocked Garralosh’s full profile after eating her Biomass; considering there was only one of her, the Expert Profile was unlocked straight away. Just can’t bring myself to read it yet. I mean, I killed and then ate her. I’d rather not learn something that will give me cause to regret it. As a fellow former human, I probably owe it to her.

[Sure I have. Those damn centipedes were the first.]

[PRECISELY! Ahem. You were probably a mite taken aback by what it said. That profile gives a little insight into the dastardly intentions of the Dungeon.]

[If I recall, that profile suggested the centipedes were proving to be a good species and would be propagated further…]

[Right. Which means that species has been successful, and the Dungeon wants to see more of it. Spawn rates will go up and new varieties will be tried, perhaps a shadow variant on the second strata, or even farther down than that.]

[What?] I squawk. [Those filthy centipedes are trash. TRASH I SAY!]

[INDEED, OLD SPICE! IF YOU WERE TO GIVE THE SYSTEM WHAT FOR, THE BEST COURSE OF ACTION WOULD BE TO HUNT DOWN EVERY CLAW CENTIPEDE YOU COULD FIND AND WIPE THEM FROM THE DUNGEON IN ONE FELL SWOOP! THUS FOILING THE BLIGHTER’S PLANS!]

[You know what, I just might.]

I’m certain the colony would be happy to follow me in an anti-centipede crusade. I hate those things.

[Ah, just around here,] Formo says.

The two of us turn a corner and I can’t help but gasp. The space opens up into a massive cavern, and every surface is filled with circular workstations cut into the stone. Here and there, sophos diligently meditate in the clear space in the centre of their stations, cores sitting in their gnarled hands as they strive to modify them to their wishes. There are cores everywhere. Every bench holds dozens of the things! In the middle of the cavern, a huge repository with tiered shelving runs from the floor to the ceiling, and each layer is covered in cores.

I kind of drool a little.

[WELCOME TO THE FORGE, YOU LUCKY DEVIL! NOT MANY GET TO SEE IT, YOU KNOW. HERE WE CREATE THE MOST FEARSOME PETS THE WHOLE WORLD OVER!]

The pride is obvious as Formo slips in the control of his volume. I don’t mind too much. This is quite the sight!