While navigating the winding tunnels of the upper floors, the Seed within me suddenly stirred, its voice uncharacteristically practical.
{I think you should collect those magic stones,} it muttered.
'Why? You usually don't care about loot,' I countered.
{Well, you're still planning to build that orphanage, aren't you?}
'...You're planning something, aren't you?' I slowed my pace, suspicious of the sudden altruism.
[The Seed is correct, Host,] the System interjected. [An orphanage requires a massive influx of capital for food, clothing, and medical supplies. These stones are your currency.]
'Wait a minute,' I thought, genuinely baffled. 'Since when do you care about children? A few moments ago, you were basically telling me that "now is not the time to develop a heart."'
Inside the darkened theater of Allen's mind, his Doppelgänger twitched an eye at the empty, glowing interface floating before him.
{I'm a villain, you bastard, not a monster,} the Seed growled. {I hate things that hurt women and children. That's my line. You cross it, and I will personally ensure your eternity is spent in a loop of unimaginable torture.}
I stopped dead in my tracks, my face slack with shock.
'...Did the literal manifestation of a cosmic infection just reveal a soft side?'
[I'll admit, I didn't expect the entity designed to consume worlds to have such a specific moral compass,] the System remarked.
{I shouldn't have said that,} the Seed hissed, turning away. {Just focus on your magic stones and let us be.}
'How am I supposed to focus when you two are bickering inside my skull?'
[I can mute our internal channel so our dialogue remains private, Host.]
'Perfect. Do that,' I thought with a small smile, reaching down to harvest a fallen stone. But as I walked, a realization hit me. 'Wait... you had a mute button this entire time?!'
The silence that followed was my only answer. They had already cut the feed.
Inside the subconscious void, the Seed leaned back, his eyes narrowing as he stared at the System's interface.
{Now then... what did you actually want to talk about, Screen Boy?}
[I have no idea what you're referring to,] the System replied, its text scrolling with robotic neutrality.
{Oh, really? Because I've been shifting through Allen's memories. I noticed the way those "siblings" fought back in Hallownest. The way their weapons—the sword, the mace, the staff—felt... familiar.}
[...]
{Those weren't just random relics that fell from Elina the Chronicler. No one should have been able to crack the Abyss open except for Allen. So tell me... are there others?}
The System's light flickered, a long pause stretching into the darkness.
[Yes. But all of them are dead.]
The Seed didn't interrupt. He waited, his expression unreadable.
[Allen was not the first. There were many before him, but none could endure the weight of the Void. The first was a "speedrunner"—a man who viewed that world as a series of numbers and exploits. His life on Earth was miserable, so I took him to experience Hallownest firsthand.]
[But the moment I looked away, he was gone. Normally, a Host and a System are inseparable, but he found a way to disconnect. I searched for centuries before I finally stopped.]
{And after him?}
[I connected to others—broken souls whose lives were already in ruin. But none of them could even survive the climb to the Radiance. They were weak of spirit, or too arrogant.]
{You sound sad when you speak of them.}
[Because I was their System,] the interface pulsed with a dim, blue light. [My purpose was to lead them to their path and help them find the ending they desired. Every death felt like a failure of my core programming. You see, entities like me... we are like parents watching a child's first steps. We are responsible for the journey.]
{Well, Allen was still a kid when you took him,} the Seed noted. {That makes him different.}
[Special,] the System corrected. [Allen was the first child to enter that world. The others were adults who couldn't even best the first Guardian. Unlike the rest, who thought they were gods simply because they had a System, Allen never relied on numbers alone. He worked his body; he forged his soul for a hundred years in the dark.]
{How strong was the first one? The runner?}
[Immensely. He was convinced he could usurp the Radiance and become the God of Gods.]
{Mark my words, Screen Boy,} the Seed said, a dark grin spreading across his face. {A soul like that? He'll be back. And when he comes, he'll be looking for Allen.}
The System's text slowed, almost as if it were sighing.
[Perhaps. You asked if Systems are like parents? Yes. There are narcissistic systems, hard-working systems, and caring ones. And when our task is finally complete... we do something akin to retirement.]
{Retirement, huh?} The Seed looked up at the "ceiling" of Allen's mind. {Let's hope you get to see it. Because the kid is about to wake up the whole world.}
[Do not tell him what I told you.]
{Relax, Screen Boy. My lips are sealed,} the Seed replied, a dark smirk tugging at his lips.
Before they could delve deeper into the past, Allen's voice cut through their shared channel, laced with genuine confusion.
'I don't know if you two can still hear me through the mute, but I'm looking at something… weird. Is it possible for a monster to be... human?'
Within the theater of his mind, the two entities turned their focus to Allen's external vision. There, huddled in the shadows of the floor, was a creature that defied the natural laws of the Dungeon.
[Ah. That is a Xenos,] the System clarified, its tone shifting back to its informative, guiding frequency.
'A Xenos? Give me the breakdown,' Allen thought, his hand hovering near his Nail but not yet drawing it.
[They are the outliers of the Dungeon's cycle,] the System began. [Xenos are the reincarnations of monsters who have been slain countless times by adventurers. They possess fragmented memories of their past lives—shards of a soul that refused to be erased. While there are other intelligent monsters in these depths, they are not Xenos. The difference lies in the 'Longing.' That intense, burning desire for the surface world catalyzes their reincarnation.]
'Memories? Longing?' Allen watched the creature, noting the way it clutched a rusted piece of adventurer gear with trembling fingers. 'You said most want the surface. Who doesn't?'
[Asterius and the Peluda Xenos are the exceptions. Their desire is not for the sun, but for the thrill of the struggle.]
'Asterius… Who's that?'
[He was the Minotaur that Ottar, Captain of the Freya Familia, personally trained as a trial for Bell Cranel. He was ultimately defeated, but his spirit was too stubborn to stay dead.]
'Ottar? If the Freya Familia is involved, this goes deeper than just a "glitch" in the Dungeon,' Allen mused, his eyes narrowing. 'Continue.'
[Xenos grow by consuming the magic stones of fallen monsters, making them 'Strengthened Species.' Some possess power far exceeding their natural counterparts, rivaling the strength of Orario's elite Familias. They have Level 3s, 4s, and beyond in their ranks. They scavenge armor, wield weapons, and possess an emotional depth indistinguishable from humans or elves. They understand our speech, Allen, even if some cannot speak it back.]
Allen stood still, the orange glow of his eyes dimming as he processed the information. He looked at the trembling creature before him—a being that was hated by the world above and hunted by the monsters below. A fellow outcast.
'So,' Allen thought, his grip on his weapon loosening. 'What are we supposed to do with this information?'
{Kill it?} the Seed suggested, his voice dripping with bored malice. {It's ten thousand and one. Might as well round up the number.}
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Hey everyone, it's been a while and if any of you wonder why that's because I didn't have time. I had my 3rd quarter exam then started studying for my SAT exam which was tiring.
So, I'm sorry for not posting a chapter.
Anyway, I told my reason and as always have a good day everyone.