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Space & Time Dungeon

Sarkasmus
14
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The average realized release rate over the past 30 days is 14 chs / week.
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Synopsis
Three lives, scattered by fate, are drawn into a single thread when one awakens as a dungeon in an unfamiliar world. In the heights where stone remembers and silence breathes, their destinies entwine—shaping a tale of rebirth, revenge, beliefs, and the fragile line between creation and ruin. Who will achieve their dreams? Who will reach their goals? And when the dust settles of the crumbled tower… who will stand there? //////////
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Chapter 1 - The sound of a clock - Ch.1 •

I was lying in bed, staring through the window at the stars. They were the same as always — cold little pinpricks of light in a black ocean — but they felt closer tonight.

"Oh, I think it's too late to regret that I never traveled to space again," I muttered, my voice rough with age. The air in my throat felt like sandpaper.

Tomorrow I'd turn one hundred thirty-three. The oldest person alive. The oldest person who'd ever lived, apparently. My reward? A creaky bed, a chest that wheezed like an old accordion, and a night sky I could only visit in memory.

I shut my eyes.

Weightless darkness. A blue curve of Earth far below. The steady hum of the ship beneath my boots. I could almost smell the metallic tang of recycled air—

Tick.

The pendulum clock beside my bed clunked forward. My chest loosened, and sleep pulled at me like a tide. My last thought was a quiet, "Good night."

I drifted. Not in water, not in air. In nothing. No sound, no touch, no up or down.

Then—light. A pulse of white so sudden it made my mind flinch.

I was… in a cave? At least, that's what the walls looked like: damp, uneven, shadows twitching where no torch burned. Strangely, I could see everything perfectly, even though it was dark.

I tried to move — nothing happened. Not so strange, I'd been stuck in bed for twenty years — but this was different. My body wasn't even there.

[You awakened as a Dungeon Core]

The words appeared both in my head and in front of me, like someone had projected them into reality.

"…What?"

[Choose two characteristics:

• Earth

• Water

• Air

• Fire

• Space (unique)

• Time (unique)]

"Uh… is this the new antidepressants talking?" My voice felt like it was inside me now, echoing without air. "Because if so, the side effects are… creative."

[Please make your choice]

I snorted. "This is one of those isekai things, isn't it? My grandson mentioned them. Usually you die first."

 Laughing at my thoughts; me dying? I guess — The probability is higher, than seeing hallucinations of the new meds.

[Please make your choice]

"Well, if this is like a game, I'm picking the only two that sound exciting."

[You have successfully chosen:

• Space (unique)

• Time (unique)]

[Please place your Dungeon:

• In the depth

• To the sky]

I grinned — or at least I thought I did. "To the sky!"

The ground trembled. Pebbles rattled. A crack split the cave roof, spilling sunlight like a flood. It was too bright. I felt myself fade, as if the light had carried me away.

White.

Not blank, not empty — white walls, smooth and clean, ten meters on each side. The air didn't move, but I could see everything, everywhere.

And in the middle floated… me.

I didn't have hands or legs — just a sphere the size of a football, glassy and flawless. Its depths were black with a sheen of blue, like deep ocean water.

Inside, countless lights drifted in spirals, as if someone had poured an entire galaxy into the glass. The lights formed a circle. Two hands — one short, one long — moved around the center.

A clock. A galaxy-clock.

I stared at myself for a long time, caught between awe and the creeping thought that I'd finally gone insane.

Memories I didn't recognize poured into my head. A trickle at first, then a steady stream. I didn't see who gave them, but they settled into my mind like they'd always been there.

A "Dungeon Core." That's what I was. Alive, somehow. A brain and a heart rolled into a marble. No lungs, no blood, no body. But alive.

And I could build.

I tried thinking about this "Mana" (kind of the stuff I could build with) and instantly knew it — a tingling warmth that filled the air like invisible sunlight. I didn't understand how it worked, but I felt it, like a current waiting for my touch.

Experimentally, I focused on the ground. A small spark of warmth left me, and a pebble appeared. Just a pebble, but it felt good!

I almost laughed. "Magic rock-making. I've peaked."

A pulse of new knowledge flickered through me: living things leaked tiny bits of Mana, just by existing. When they died, they released it all at once.

Dungeons like me could use that energy — Dungeon Essence — to build, grow, and defend ourselves.

I paused at that word: defend.

Because apparently, people hunted Dungeon Cores. To them, we were dangerous, evil even. All because we fought back when they tried to smash us apart and take our Essence.

"Ah," I muttered. "So I'm a monster now. Wonderful."

Still, curiosity burned brighter than fear. Somewhere in this bright white room, the word rose up in my mind like a button waiting to be pressed.

Status.