My glittering prizes are spread across the tunnel floor. A collection of precious gems ready for my mental ministrations.
Pushing away fatigue, I shake myself a little, slap my antennae on my face and begin to work.
My antennae stretch and touch the first core as I activate my Core Mechanic skill. My mind is flooded with information regarding the creature this core came from. All their basic stats and skills are laid out in a dazzling mental map. Rather than a solid menu, the values and ideas are communicated in pictures or colours.
It’s pretty disorienting, I’m gradually starting to get the hang of it.
I prepare myself mentally for a moment and then push with my mind, catching hold of one of the stats and shifting some of its value to another. Doing so requires immense effort. My mandibles are tightly clenched and a pounding headache is coming on.
With that done, I wrap my thoughts around the change I made like concrete, holding the values down as it tries to slip away and change back, squirming like an eel in my mental hands.
Stay put, dammit!
Eventually the change I’d made settles and grows still, no longer fighting against me. Slowly, I release my grip. My mind feels stiff with throbbing pain, like hands that had been holding something down too tightly for too long.
That was just one small change! It’s insane how difficult this is.
Comfort comes with the idea that as I Level up the Core Mechanic skill, the burden might lessen, allowing me to progress more rapidly.
By the gnarled staff of Gandalf, I’m so tired…
Bah! A worker knows no such weariness. Push through, Anthony.
Bringing my antennae to the same core once again, I throw my mind into the strange swirl of information contained inside. Gathering my Will, I try again to exact the same change I made before, shifting a piece of Toughness into Might. This time it’s even more difficult! The core resists my efforts to change it with even more vigour, stretching my mental resources to their limits.
This would simply be impossible if I weren’t a Mind Ant.
I refuse to fail!
You will be conquered by me, you stupid inanimate gemstone!
Hrrrnnng!
By supreme effort of Will I enforce the change I desire on the core and hold it in place as it writhes against my mental barriers. After a time, it stops resisting and I collapse to the floor in exhaustion.
[Core Mechanic has reached Level 2.]
Ah… Ahha! T-triumph! Ugh…
I pick myself up from the floor and collect the core in my mandibles before placing it to one side next to Tiny.
I select another small sample from my collection of spherical gemstones and place it on the floor where it sparkles innocently. Totally belying the pain and suffering this innocuous thing will soon inflict on me.
No whining, Anthony! The colony needs your skills. Suffer like you love it.
Stretching forward once more, I activate the Core Mechanic skill and bring the strength of my Will to bear.
Agrupanuf!
[Core Mechanic has reached Level 4.]
Vic… tory…! BAH! I’m awake!
I snap out of torpor with a vigorous shake of my body, startled by my unexpected loss of awareness. I managed to get through six more cores, making two adjustments to each before my Core Mechanic reached Level four and I effectively passed out from exhaustion.
That could have been dangerous! How long was out of it?
Tiny is still sleeping soundly, a small pile of seven cores in the dirt next to him. Relieved to see my ape still resting, I turn to the tunnel walls and attempt to judge how much time I’ve missed based on the change in brightness from the Mana veins that have even managed to push their way into this tunnel network.
The light radiating from those veins is probably half what it was before. Does that mean we’re halfway to the start of the wave? Will the Mana rush back immediately once the walls are completely dim or will there be some time spent in darkness before the wave breaks?
Frustration grips me. I just don’t know enough! If I had just ten more minutes with Formo I could have learned so much more.
No time to cry about spilt Biomass. Even if I hadn’t wanted to rest, my mind is feeling much refreshed. And I still have a heap of unmodified cores here to help push through to Level 5 and advance the skill.
Determinedly I grasp another core in my mandibles and bring it to a clear patch of tunnel floor before activating the skill and continuing my work.
First core done!
Second core done!
Third core done!
Hoo boy! Need a breather…
Fourth core done!
[Core Mechanic has reached Level 5. Upgrade available.]
Thank, Gandalf! Holy moly that is tiring. The improving skill Level has surely helped, but the task of modifying the cores is still intensely draining. It’s like trying to hold a cube of water in shape with your hands.
Eagerly I jump into the menu to check out the new skill.
[Core Mechanic (I) [?] Core Engineer (II): This skill allows the user to exercise finer control when making adjustments and reveals a deeper layer of information within the core to be manipulated. Cores may also be fused.]
Buy iiiit! Gwehehehe.
This is the first step on the long road the Sophos have walked, manipulating monster cores to create invincible monsters.
I grasp another core and activate the Core Engineer skill.
Once again that dizzying rush of information invades my mind, and this time the knowledge is even denser. Beneath the surface details is now a deeper layer. As soon as I identify it, I let my mind sink to it, ready to flex my new skills.
Behaviour, evolution paths and advancement choices can all be adjusted! The Core Engineer skill not only allows the user to adjust the stats and skills of a monster, but also its evolutionary path.
This must be the secret to how Formo and his kind are able to custom design such fearsome beasts to meet their needs. They can take a base monster and customise it for the present, as well as shape its evolution well into the future! This helps explain how it takes so long for them to grow their monsters. The Sophos probably begin with a low-Level monster. Likely one that hasn’t evolved in the first place, then shape and direct it over multiple evolutions. They probably have directions and paths they’ve worked out over hundreds of years of trial and error, like recipes, allowing them to produce exactly the monster they want.
Fearsome…
I’m still a long way from that Level!
The other side of this skill is just as important. Core Fusion? Allowing me to combine cores…
To test my thoughts and exercise the hidden instincts the skill has implanted in my mind, I take two small cores I’ve yet to tamper with and place an antenna on each before activating the skill.
Immediately the dazzling information of two cores is slammed into my mind, nearly stunning me insensible with the sheer volume of data. Pushing the mental strain to one side, I follow the half-realised pathways forged in my brain as I learned the skill and begin to draw the two cores together.
They resist each other. Furiously.
Like magnets of opposite poles, the two cores fiercely resist my efforts, pushing at each other, trying to shove each other away. Except in the implacable grip of my Will, they have no choice.
In times like this I’m thankful ants don’t sweat, because I would be dripping buckets! Through sheer force of mental effort, I push the energy contained in each core together and hold it there against the powerful resistive forces.
And hold it.
And hold it!
Gradually the two cores begin to fuse. The physical gems grow softer and begin to emit a blinding light as they melt together.
The two small cores now no longer exist and in their place is a slightly larger one. I wearily activate the Core Engineer skill on the new core and shudder at the tangled mess of data.
Yuck!
[Core Engineer (II) has reached Level 2.]
Phew!
It appears my fusion lacked a bit of elegance and control. The result of combining the two monster cores is not a functional new monster species, but a tangled mess of data that contains more energy than either of the two cores held separately. That would make one horrible mess of a monster!
If I were to reconstitute this core, the monster created may not even be able to functionally live and immediately pass away.
Not a pleasant fate…