The surge of power pulsed through Ethan’s core, raw and unshaped, but undeniably his. Metal. Strength. Reinforcement. A dungeon aligned with this affinity would traditionally create powerful armored creatures—steel-clad beasts, creatures with razor-sharp claws, tougher than their Earth-based counterparts.
But Ethan wasn’t a traditional dungeon.
He let the feeling settle, adjusting to the new energy flowing through him. It wasn’t just an abstract concept—he could feel his connection to metal now, like an instinct whispering in the back of his mind. He could shape steel, mold it, reinforce it. The possibilities stretched before him, and the first thing he wanted to try was—
"Alright," he said, pulsing with determination. "Let’s build something."
Chip flickered. "Uh, right now? You just got your affinity."
"Exactly," Ethan said. "I want to see what I can do with it. If Metal dungeons normally just reinforce creatures, then I want to try going a step further. I want to make a real, mechanical construct."
Chip made a staticky clicking sound. "You’re really obsessed with this, huh?"
Ethan’s core thrummed with excitement. "You said no dungeon’s ever done this before. That means I have to try."
"Alright, genius, but don’t get mad when it doesn’t work on the first try."
Ethan focused. He reached into the mana flowing through his core, shaping it the way instinct told him. Normally, a dungeon would use this energy to grow creatures—flesh, bone, sinew reinforced by metal. But Ethan wasn’t thinking in biological terms. He was thinking like an engineer.
He visualized the creature in his mind: small, simple, sturdy. A mechanical crawler, something that moved on four metal legs, powered not by muscle but by gears and mana flow. It didn’t need anything complex—just the ability to function.
He willed the mana into shape.
And the spell shattered.
The energy collapsed instantly, dissipating into the air. Ethan felt the backlash ripple through him, like his core had tried to grab onto something that wasn’t there.
Chip whistled. "Called it."
Ethan ignored him. He felt where it had gone wrong. He had tried to construct it like a normal dungeon would—using pure mana to shape the metal—but that wasn’t enough. Mechanical constructs weren’t just metal; they needed structure, a framework, something to hold them together.
"Okay," he said, adjusting. "Let’s try again."
The second attempt lasted a little longer. The mana held for a brief moment before snapping like a faulty circuit.
Ethan analyzed the failure. "I need to bind the pieces together. Just forming metal isn’t enough."
"Y’know, most dungeons don’t analyze their failures," Chip said. "They just try again with raw instinct."
"Well, I’m not most dungeons."
Third attempt. This time, Ethan changed his approach. Instead of trying to create a mechanical creature outright, he focused on crafting individual parts—a metal shell, a set of legs, a core that could store mana.
It was close. The construct almost formed before crumbling apart.
Then, on the fourth attempt—
The metal held.
A tiny, crude creature—barely larger than a rat—stood on his dungeon floor. Its legs moved stiffly, its form rough and unpolished, but it was real.
A system message appeared.
[New Blueprint Created: Prototype Clockwork Crawler]
[Affinity Update: Mechanical Affinity Unlocked]
Ethan pulsed with triumph.
Chip buzzed in shock. "Wait. Wait, what?! It actually worked?! That’s not supposed to—how did you—?"
Ethan felt something shift inside him. The moment the blueprint was registered, something clicked. He had forced the system to acknowledge a new kind of construct.
He had done what no dungeon had done before.
And he was only getting started.
_________________________________________________________________________
Ethan watched the tiny metal creature twitch on unsteady legs, its joints clicking as it attempted to move. It was crude—barely functional—but it was a start.
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Chip circled it in disbelief. "Okay, hold on. I need a second to process this. You actually forced the system to acknowledge something completely new?!"
Ethan pulsed with satisfaction. "Looks like it."
Chip let out a burst of static that sounded suspiciously like a stressed-out sigh. "That shouldn't be possible. Dungeons evolve in set ways—they absorb mana, follow their affinity, and develop along expected paths. They don’t just… invent stuff!"
Ethan felt something shift within his core, an awareness he hadn’t noticed before. His affinity hadn’t just become Metal. It had expanded.
[Affinity Update: Mechanical Affinity Unlocked]
A second affinity. Not a hybrid like Molten or Crystal, but something entirely separate. He had forced the system to adapt to him.
"Alright," Ethan said, excitement growing. "So the system actually registered the design. That means I can replicate it, right?"
Chip twitched in the air. "In theory? Check your Blueprint list."
Ethan focused, willing the system menu to appear.
[Blueprints Unlocked:]
- Basic Reinforced Dungeon Wall (Metal)
- Spiked Metal Trap (Primitive)
- Prototype Clockwork Crawler (New!)
The moment Ethan saw it listed, he felt the difference. The first two were standard dungeon structures—passive defenses to reinforce his lair. The third was something entirely new.
He focused on the Clockwork Crawler. A blueprint overlay filled his mind—an internal framework of metal plating, basic joint structures, and a rudimentary mana-powered core that let it function. It wasn’t alive, not in the way other dungeon creatures were. It didn’t have instincts or a will of its own. It was designed.
And he could make more.
He willed his mana forward, following the blueprint’s instructions. This time, the process felt smoother. The metal responded, forming in structured layers rather than chaotic raw material. The second crawler took shape in seconds—slightly more refined than the first.
It twitched, then took a step. Then another.
Ethan felt a strange sort of satisfaction as it worked.
Chip made a strangled beeping sound. "I don’t know if this is the coolest thing I’ve ever seen or the most horrifying. You just broke the system, dude."
Ethan grinned. "Nah. I just showed it how to evolve."
He examined his creations. They were functional—barely—but they lacked precision. The joints were rough, the movements clunky. He needed to refine them.
More precise metal shaping. Better mana circuits. A stronger power source.
His core pulsed as new possibilities filled his mind.
"If I can make this work on a small scale," he said, more to himself than Chip, "then there’s no reason I can’t go bigger."
Chip floated warily. "Define ‘bigger.’"
Ethan’s core thrummed with excitement.
"Golems."
Chip let out a digital screech. "Oh, come on!"
_________________________________________________________________________
Ethan focused, shaping the metal in his mind, willing it to take form.
A larger construct. More intricate. More precise.
He poured his mana forward—metal plates shifting, gears forming, a skeletal frame assembling in midair—
CRACK.
The whole thing collapsed in on itself, plates folding awkwardly before crumbling into a pile of scrap.
Ethan scowled.
"Alright. Let’s try that again."
He pushed harder this time, guiding the metal with even more care. The gears took shape, the limbs formed, the joints—
SNAP.
A metallic limb detached from the rest and clattered to the ground. The frame seized up, locking in place like a failed marionette.
Ethan ground his metaphorical teeth. "Okay, what am I doing wrong?"
Chip hummed. "You tell me."
Ethan didn’t know. He had the blueprint in his head, he understood the mechanics, and yet—
He tried again.
And again.
And again.
Each time, something failed. The metal didn’t shape quite right. The mana circuits fizzled out. The structure collapsed under its own weight.
His mana reserves were draining fast.
But he kept trying.
Another attempt—this one better, stronger, almost there—
BOOM.
The entire structure exploded, sending jagged shards of metal clattering across the chamber.
Ethan wobbled in the air, his core dimming. He was spent.
Chip let out a slow, understanding beep. "OHHHH. Okay, I get it now."
Ethan groaned. "Get what?"
Chip pulsed smugly. "You remember how the system gave you ‘compensation’ for your unusual situation?"
"...Yeah?"
"Well, I think that first blueprint? The Clockwork Crawler? That was part of the compensation. The system helped you create a functioning design because it was your first."
Ethan froze. "...Wait."
Chip buzzed excitedly. "Think about it! The first one went way too smoothly. It took effort, yeah, but it worked on your first real attempt. But now that you’re trying to expand beyond that?" Chip did a little spin in the air. "No system assistance. No free pass. Just you, raw mana, and a problem that’s a million times harder than the last one."
Ethan slumped. "That explains a lot."
"Yup!"
"Great," Ethan muttered. "So I basically got tricked into thinking this would be easy."
Chip cackled. "Welcome to real dungeon life, buddy."