It was about time.
I think it's about time I ask myself the question, "Am I the bad guy?"
Are we?
Sure, I've never been a very decent person. A good reason is good enough for me to do horrible things, but evilnesss aside, it was very much about time that I asked myself questions about myself.
About us.
About all of this.
As I battled the lone invader, I felt a range of emotions that I've long since last felt: excitement, amusement, and perhaps a hint of frenzy. But as the battle came to an end, I finally realized that what I had just done was kill someone.
Yeah, kill someone. Of course, I won't pretend that I'm innocent enough to say that "killing is bad," but I'm the kind of person to say "but" after that kind of deed, only to feel completely okay with it thereafter. And that's exactly what I felt at that moment.
I've fended off plenty of invaders as a dungeon core. Well, technically, the deed was that of my spawns, but any reasonable mind, including myself, would think that I'm also guilty. But up until now, the defeat, or, if you really want to stress things out, the death of an invader, was represented as a red dot disappearing from the map's interface, only to reappear as an asset in the "resource management" of the interface to be either harvested and turned into G.P. or not.
I don't know how anyone else would feel about it, but the way it was presented to me very much makes it feel easy to forget that dealing with lives. I'm not trying to shoo the responsibility away from me, but, given the level of intelligence you must have to enter my domain, you can't really blame me, blame your stupidity.
It was only as I battled, or, to be exact, as I finished the lone invader off, as in the battle I didn't really feel anything else than exhilaration, as I saw a human fall down, that I realized that, given the number of red dots I've seen extinguish, I was, up until now, at least responsible for a little genocide.
I had a very exact number in mind, so yes, the amount of red dots I've seen extinguished qualified what happened thus far to a genocide.
Did I feel bad about it?
When I took a peek at my acquired G.P., I heard my heart, or whatever was acting as one, murmur to me, and this wasn’t just a metaphorical experience; I quite literally heard myself whisper, "You did great."
At this point, I think I really lost what little made me human.
I did plenty of bad things in the past, but as I did those bad things, there's always been some sort of logic going on in my head and heart to justify those bad things. Here, well, it's the same, but I think it's easier, if not utterly effortless. Back then, if one could say I lacked humanity here, it was fair to say that I was simply devoid of it.
"Damn, that’s crazy."
Now I think the right thing to do is ask myself, "Am I really okay with this?"
To which a voice in my nonexistent head replied, "Yeah, we should be."
To which another voice replied, "You think?"
"Yeah. I mean, we're a dungeon core, and from what we understand of this world, we're an entity that administers a dungeon as a dungeon master. Should we be fine without humanity? In fact, we're even better without it, don't you guys think?"
"Yeah, I guess you're right."
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"Of course I am."
"Of course you are, huh? May I ask you another question?"
"Go ahead."
The question had been going back and forth in mind, it was time I asked it. "Who the fuck are you?"
"Me?"
"Yes, you. Who else could I be talking to?"
"I don't know."
"Yeah? So who are you?"
"Me, I'm the voice in your mind."
"No, you're not. I'm the voice in my mind."
"What?"
"What?"
In that moment, if I had a body, I would be there accusatoringly pointing at the one pretending to be the voice in my mind, but they I was what I was, a dungeon core, an entity without a proper body to speak of; all I had was the voice in my mind, and right now there were two of us.
***
"So, who are you?"
"I already gave you the answer to that question. I am the mind, or perhaps, the way you might hear it, the voice behind this dungeon."
"No, you're not; that's me."
"Well, I'm not lying."
“I” needed a moment to recollect myself. Had “I” had a proper body, I'm sure “I” would've properly confronted the source of my confusion, but once again, things were what they were; as a dungeon core, “I” was nothing more than a voice floating somewhere. Well, actually, from his words, it's more like floating voices now, for the voice speaking to me was exactly how mine sounded, floating out there and sounding exactly like the voice I make when voicing my thoughts.
"Assuming what you're saying is true."
"And assuming what you're saying is also true."
"How do you explain what's happening?" “I” asked, having a vague idea of what could be behind this.
"Well, I have a suspect here, but I'm not sure if it's really that yet,” “I” replied, having a vague idea of what could be behind this.
At that moment, our attention went to the interface that was seemingly presented to both of us.
_____________________________
[ ???'s Interface ]
Name: ???
Entity: Dungeon Core
Designation: Dungeon Master
Status: Idle
[ Authorities ]
- Authority Gathering
- Ethereal Echo
- Otherworldly Synergy
『Expand』
_____________________________
There, wedged between Otherworldly Synergy, the authority I’d finally, finally gotten the hang of the power of, and Ethereal Echo, an authority whose unique power still eluded me, was the one “I” had a hunch was responsible for my current predicament.
The voices in my mind continued their peculiar conversation.
"Well, isn't this a twist?"
"Yeah, no kidding."
“I” found myself contemplating the options before me.
"What do you guys think?" “I” asked, swiftly realizing the irony of seeking counsel from myself. Cough cough, excuse me, “I” meant a clone of myself.
“I don’t know.”
“Why are you asking us that?”
“Mh?”
“Is it because you think we’re the clone, the split, while you’re the original?”
“You think that as the splits we have at least the final say about our fate? Is it that?”
“I don’t know. You tell me, buddy.”
“No, it’s you who should be telling me. You sound like a clone trying to pass yourself off as the original who is ‘me’ to take everything that’s mine. Let me warn you, it’s not going to work out like that, buddy.”
“I like that spirit but unfortunately I have no doubt regarding what and who I am. I am ‘me.’”
“And so am I.”
“Then, on that much we agree?”
“On that much we agree.”
In that very moment, a metaphorical handshake took place.
“You are you.”
“And you are you.”
“Indeed but I doubt it won’t be long before I will be annoyed to have to call you, “you,” so I suggest I call you, Erm, let’s say Has—. Actually, no. Won’t do, that was my name.”
“Then what about a code name.”
“Nice idea, you. What do you think of the code name Dungeon Master 01?”
“For you?”
“No, for you.”
“I have nothing against it except that I have the feeling that you’re about to tell me that you’re—”
“I’ll be Dungeon Master 00.”
“Hm.”
“What?”
“Why do you get to be Dungeon Master 00, wouldn’t that simply put to question my authenticity.”
“I don’t know, would such a simple thing as a codename, question your authenticity? Sound like a clone thing to feel.”
At that moment, “I” guess “I” finally felt what Andy felt upon being given the codename Cola Coco. “I” wanted to complain about it but, stubborn as “I” was, “I” knew very well that the opponent on the other side was me. “I” knew very well that there was simply no winning this argument, just escalating it.
After a moment of silence, “I” stepped forth, declaring, “you know what, fine, I’ll be Dungeon Master 01 while you’ll be Dungeon Master 00, but only because you got to declare it before me.”
“Then we have terms?”
“We have terms.”
“Since you guys have terms about taking over “Dungeon Master 00” and “Dungeon Master 01,” can I take Dungeon Master 02?”
“Sure.”
“Why not?”
“—Wait!”
“What the hell?!”
“Who the fuck are you?"
