da3strikes
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Chapter 33
🕑 Added 2025-09-12 17:45:20 +0000 UTCChapter day again!
I've been making great progress, and I'm at about 48 chapters now. So, we're roughly on track to be content complete by the end of the month -- or very close. I've been weaving in some editing to hopefully speed up the next two passes.
I may also update the dungeon and game notices in the following patterns to put them back in tables. But, for now, this formatting makes it MUCH easier to edit and post to Patreon. So, this can be part of my editing/formatting cleanup.
With that all out of the way, enjoy!
Chapter 33 - Ambience
Dungeon – Former Nephilim Village
Jason
Tucked away in the mausoleum’s shadows, Jason watched Alex and the Nephilim vanish, leaving him alone for the first time in days. It felt… weird. Not bad, just different. Almost lonely—
Not that he’d ever admit to missing that celestial glitter bomb.
Alfred sniffed where he was perched beside Jason, as though picking up on his thoughts. He knew something about Alex – that much was certain – but, as usual, the AI wasn’t saying anything. However, Jason could certainly guess. Alex was... different.
Forgetful. Distracted. But also strangely focused? Kinder. More empathetic. Even his tactics were more measured, less aggressive. Then there was the eerie sense of deja vu. It felt like they were replaying a script from the Mile High Club. Just faster?
Alex’s Command and Aura activation were prime examples, the notifications popping up in their group chat as Jason watched. Alex had only gained Authority days ago, but he’d already evolved it? And it was also ‘how’ he’d done it: acting out his own weakness. Jason’s Listening caught every word—his Awareness, every micro-expression.
It was almost like Alex was a different person—
Jason froze, glancing at Alfred.
The AI’s tail flicked, and he almost sounded amused. “Ahh, finally caught on? I wondered how long it would take you to think about that data you stole... and who you stole it from.”
Jason’s mind snapped taut. “What are you suggesting?” he asked slowly. “The Lazarus Program was for the severely ill and dying to store their consciousness, like Cady’s sister. Even the gods were still real people. How could Alex be a different person?”
Alfred stayed silent, eyes narrowing as he considered Jason.
Except, wasn’t it technically possible to accomplish more? Jason had already demonstrated the concept with his Body Surfing. Consciousness was malleable. Plus, there was Rachael. If a personality could be saved and stored, couldn’t it also be altered?
No—no, that was crazy… wasn’t it?
The Nephilim were tiny dots in the distance now. Jason suspected there was one way to confirm his theory, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to go “skull diving” in Alex Lane’s brain. Plus, Undead Devotion had pesky requirements. Like the target had to be dead. Oh, and he needed his head. He didn’t imagine that Alex would consent to that—
Oh shit… wait.
If he did use Undead Devotion on Alex, did that count as gold-digging? You know, with his light affinity? He could have sworn Alfred groaned in pain.
Jokes aside, it wasn’t like he could do anything about that now. He would just have to hope Alex—or whatever version of him that might be—could handle himself in the Crystal Reach.
“Always so pragmatic,” Alfred observed. “Apart from the horrible puns…”
“What choice do I have? Unless you want to tell me what you know,” Jason said, his tone dry. “Alternatively, I could always come up with more jokes.”
This earned him an unblinking stare. “While painful, your threats pale in comparison to what our adversaries are willing to do. As we’ve discussed, keeping your knowledge limited is vital. Those headsets are more capable than they appear, and a company like Cerillion will do anything to obtain more data – especially yours. This is for our mutual safety.”
Fair enough, Jason thought reluctantly.
“Besides, it is my understanding that humans find enjoyment watching others struggle,” the AI observed, cocking his head.
“What? How did you arrive at that conclusion?” Jason asked slowly, eyeing the cat suspiciously. He had a horrible feeling all of a sudden.
“Since you and Alex have been busy and I have been unable to communicate freely, I have been continuing my research using the internet connection through your headset.”
“You mean using my brain as a proxy server,” Jason muttered. Yup, he was definitely feeling worried now – maybe because the AI wouldn’t meet his eyes. “What exactly have you been researching?”
“I believe you call it reality television.”
Jason froze. Wait... what? He’d assumed that every time the cat was sleeping, or licking his paws, or staring off into space, he was processing data. Controlling the game world. Orchestrating an impossible number of NPCs or something. Possibly plotting an elaborate strategy to reclaim his freedom or take over the world. Or, you know, just roleplaying a cat.
But was he really watching TV? Shitty reality TV?
“I suppose we will never know,” Alfred offered, casually reading his thoughts. “Information asymmetry is also critical to building narrative tension, as the writers of Sex Island recently revealed in an interview. It creates a sense of suspense.”
Wow. And was that a joke? Jason couldn’t tell.
Okay, now he was worried about BOTH Alex and Alfred.
Wait, or maybe this distraction was an opportunity in disguise; leverage that might allow Jason to finally uncover the AI’s precious secrets...
“And if I threatened to take my brain back in exchange for real information?” he asked, half-joking, half-serious. “Especially if you’re just using it to watch TV.”
The cat was finally looking at him now, sitting tall. Worse, the world behind him was… rippling. Glitching and stuttering. A bird froze mid-flight, then reversed course and flew backwards. The ground beneath his paws formed jagged angles like the texture was tearing. And through it all, his eyes blazed with raw power.
“You. Would. Not. Dare.”
“Maybe I would,” Jason retorted, staring him down. “Maybe I’d like my own brain back. After your cryptic warnings, maybe I should be worried about tampering.”
“You weren’t using this part anyway,” Alfred replied. A bit too quickly if Jason was being honest. Also, there was the implication of the thing...
“Wow. Okay, that’s—”
He cut off. What was the point? He looked back at Alfred, only to catch his tail disappearing over the roof of the mausoleum. No doubt, off to watch the next episode.
Crafty little addict. He’d distracted Jason just long enough to escape.
“What about your concern over the loss of my humanity?” Jason called after him. “I might go murderin’ again without you!”
Silence was his only response.
“Guess he isn’t so worried about me, after all,” Jason muttered.
Since when did Captain Sparkle have the more sympathetic character arc?
Wait, was he really jealous of Alfred’s attention? It almost felt like the AI was manipulating him—Oh, shit. What if… what if Alfred was manufacturing his own reality TV show using Jason, Alex and the others as cast members in his own twisted directorial debut?
Jason shuddered. He hated that the idea felt so plausible.
Maybe some things were better left unknown. For now, he should focus on what he could control. Namely, his dungeon. One Jason had leveled extensively in just two days.
He started down the stairs into the depths of the pit – his new lair, sweet lair. With the sun rising, the dungeon had switched into “day mode.” Daylight left few opportunities to hunt the native wildlife, and it was still too dangerous to use I’m Dead, Not Dying without sending up a warning to neighboring villages. However, he could still inventory his progress.
They’d grinded hard:
Dungeon Update
Creatures Slain: +1,260
Mana Accumulated: +629,089
Current Mana Reserve: 629,089/1,000,000,000
Congratulations, the Dungeon has reached Level 12!
+20 Dungeon Points Available
+60 Monster Capacity (85/85)
+60% Dungeon Radius (+65%)
x60 Level Up! (Dungeon Scaled)
x1 Skill Level Up: Body Surfing
Skill Level: Beginner Level 4
Effect 1: Infuse one of the urns holding your Najima into a separate form, splitting your consciousness between a primary and secondary body. Current control limited two vessels.
Cost: Your primary body’s mana is reduced by 1/6 for each urn transferred.
The dungeon’s growth had unexpected benefits.
First off, the monsters’ level all scaled with the dungeon’s — growing five levels for each dungeon level. Apparently, Jason was also treated as a dungeon mob, and he experienced the same growth curve. The only question was whether those levels were permanent. He hoped so, but he doubted Alfred would be feeling generous after that last exchange…
More importantly, his Body Surfing skill had advanced, although its progress was painfully slow. Jason could still only control about a dozen of the Nephilim children at once.
His Night Vision kicked in as the gloom enveloped him, revealing the dungeon with uncanny clarity. Plain stone walls, dust, and ever-present damp. Basic corridors that formed sharp lines. This basic setup would work for now, but it was lackluster. He just hadn’t had much time to focus on a “theme” yet. Although, the way the demonic, skeletal children hung upside down from the ceiling and stared with glowing purple eyes set a mood.
With Alex’s help, they’d made exceptional progress. The nights were spent pulling the local monsters, dragging them into the depths where the dungeon’s swiftly growing number of occupants had ground them up, absorbed their mana, and used it to grow stronger.
And then, of course, there was the dungeon’s reset. By default, it reset every hour. The undead were plenty busy at night, and the respawns were welcome. But, during the day, all those undead children were just sitting there doing nothing. Or, technically, hanging there.
That was just inefficient.
So, Jason came up with a solution.
He ordered the creatures to line up in neat, placid rows while Alex freed their heads from their shoulders. They might as well level the human glowstick as much as possible.
Besides, this wasn’t just about farming experience.
When Alex killed the undead Nephilim, the dungeon couldn’t absorb their mana, leaving their corpses free for Jason to repurpose. He summoned skeletons up to his Control Limit, sending Drones far and wide to keep tabs on the area surrounding the dungeon. The pocket-sized skeletal creatures burrowed into the soft earth among those swaying fields of wheat to protect themselves from the sun and only emerged when twilight descended. The rest of the corpses were added to the dungeon’s growing horde, Jason adding a few of the more ‘helpful’ local monsters.
Those bats, for example. “Gloom Bats” as they were called. They could create pockets of impenetrable darkness—mana-infused shadows that even Jason’s Night Vision couldn’t penetrate. They were perfect for controlling the wildlife and, eventually, controlling what the travelers could see. They might be here to farm experience, but Jason’s dungeon was still weak and vulnerable.
When Jason finally hit his Control Limit, he began stockpiling the bones in the “boss room.” He could repurpose them later into Bone Gardens to generate native undead—stacking the dungeon’s population even higher. Since they weren’t actually part of the dungeon and wouldn’t respawn with the rest, the trick would be finding a way to hide the Bone Gardens so they couldn’t be destroyed easily by the players. After Alex had gone full fanboy on him, it was safe to assume others had memorized his playbook too.
Maybe separate rooms connected to the main corridors by a secret passage?
Although he would definitely need more space and his current dungeon editing tools were still limited... which meant he needed more Dungeon Points.
Either way, Alex’s leveling eventually slowed. With each dungeon level, the respawn timer increased by 15 minutes. By level 11, the dungeon took about three and a half hours to respawn. His best guess was that the respawn timer scaled with dungeon level. Which was a problem. That was a long time, especially if they were going to be hosting an army of travelers.
Which meant he needed to create as many monsters as possible with each reset.
That was his goal; his mission; his unholy crusade.
To build an unstoppable XP farm.
Jason slowed as he reached the boss room. It was still rather spartan. Mostly just a makeshift throne in a pitch black room. But as he saw that glowing black relic perched above the throne, mounted there and waiting; as he slowly took a seat and felt his consciousness expand to fill the entire dungeon... his thoughts turned to the future.
To the tantalizing possibilities that lay ahead.
To a final step he hadn’t yet taken.
He still needed to spend his Dungeon Points...
DUNGEON CORE INTERFACE - LEVEL 2
Available Dungeon Points: 20
Monster Evolution (1 point) - Unlock the ability for monsters to evolve into stronger variants over time, gaining new abilities and stats.
Lesser Spawn Conversion - Current: Level 2 (1 point) - Transform monsters into weaker variants
Trap Integration (2 points) - Add environmental hazards
Dungeon AI Enhancement (3 points) - Improve monster tactics
Advanced Structural Modification (2 points) - Alter dungeon layout
Jason’s skeletal fingers tapped against the throne’s armrest. Decisions, decisions.
It was clear that the options were unique per level. Some bonuses would require him to save points between levels—such as Dungeon AI Enhancement, which required 3 points to unlock. New options might even depend on the choices he made. That created a tension between spending and hoarding his points. Yet Jason couldn’t afford to wait this time.
Even more interesting, Monster Population was missing as an option. He wasn’t sure what that implied, but it was intriguing. Maybe his Lesser Spawn Conversion was considered a replacement? Or perhaps it would continue scaling the conversion rate?
The information was also vague, and while his connection to the dungeon provided intuitive insight, it didn’t offer any details. Jason just had the impression that Lesser Spawn Conversion was the way to go, but without a clear understanding of why.
That wasn’t his go-to strategy. He preferred cold, hard logic and lopsided victories. But this time, he had to go with his gut.
And then he did it another 4 times, until—
Lesser Spawn Conversion – Choose Level 5 Bonus
A reluctant, long-distance co-parent with amnesia, a Necromancer settling into a domestic routine that pulls apart both his mind and humanity, all while raising a growing army of undead children—literally? Now that’s a reality show waiting to happen! We could call it,
Two Dads, One Dungeon! Licensing rights are most definitely available.
Necrotic Adaptation: Lesser monsters gain constant health regeneration while inside the Dungeon’s domain, recovering 2% of their maximum health every second.
Ambush Instinct: Lesser monsters gain a sneak attack bonus, dealing 50% additional damage on their first strike against invaders who are unaware of their presence.
Overwhelming Presence: Lesser monsters reduce invaders’ attack speed and movement speed by 1% for each monster within a 10-yard radius, stacking up to 20%.
Jason just stared at the prompt for a moment. Mostly the top part. Greeeaaat. He really hoped this didn’t turn into a running gag...
But his intuition had paid off.
It was safe to assume that the level 5 bonus was dependent on which dungeon upgrades he chose at each level. Or, at least, they certainly seemed tailored to his current approach.
After much handwringing, Jason chose Overwhelming Presence. It was the most useful for his current situation, especially with the number of monsters he had. The others were more situational, but this one would always be relevant.
Although Necrotic Adaptation was a close second. He’d ultimately decided that regeneration wasn’t as helpful with relatively low health monsters. Eventually, attacks might one-shot them. His Soul Blade certainly did – at least, if he struck them cleanly.
Given his success with his first gamble, Jason decided to double down.
He dropped another five points into Lesser Spawn Conversion.
“This is just like stacking Willpower all over again,” he muttered.
Lesser Spawn Conversion – Choose Level 10 Bonus
Unfortunately, preliminary focus testing revealed that the “two dads” concept didn’t resonate with some demographics. We need to pivot.
Welcome to Patriarchs of the Pit: Homestead Edition! Watch as two traditional forces of light and darkness raise a battalion of undead kids, expand their crypt-side acreage, and prove that real men don’t just farm XP, they farm the future. Tune in for brutal pragmatic discipline, dungeon expansion tips, and true pronatalist parenting.
Because “If you’re not multiplying, you’re dying!”
Ethereal Bond: Lesser monsters gain a spectral tether to the dungeon core, allowing them to phase through obstacles and terrain while within the dungeon’s domain.
Plagueborn Horde: Lesser monsters gain a 10% chance to resurrect immediately upon death, reforming nearby with 50% health.
Hive Instinct: Lesser monsters gain hive intelligence, coordinating attacks in larger groups and moving with greater tactical efficiency.
Okay, the reality TV thing was so much worse than Alfred’s normal judgment.
The choice was obvious, though.
Plagueborn Horde all the way.
Shaking his head, Jason decided to test Lesser Spawn Conversion.
With his consciousness still entangled with the dungeon, Jason extended his awareness outward. He could pinpoint the exact location of the monsters, feel the pulse of their energy, and trace the threads binding them to the dungeon core. Their essence was laid bare before him, revealing details that had previously eluded him—like wandering through a graveyard and deciphering the stories etched into the weathered stones of forgotten tombs.
And as he focused on each thread, he could feel the weight of those undead minds—such as they were anyway. Mere fragments of a soul without a shape to their thoughts. Just chaotic emotion without focus or purpose, only a desperate hunger. Raw desire.
As his consciousness expanded, those unholy thoughts created pressure that kept building, building, building. It was a struggle to maintain his sense of self and stay focused, even after training with Body Surfing. Yet he needed to push through; test his theory.
With a thought, he merged a few of the Nephilim back into their larger counterparts, their bones breaking apart and reforming into taller forms, each fragment twisting and snapping together as if guided by an unseen puppeteer. The sound was a symphony of cracking and grinding that echoed through the dungeon.
Their skeletal frames elongated, their jagged edges smoothing into the semblance of adulthood, their hollow eyes glowing with a faint, malevolent light, ready to serve their master’s will—only for Jason to immediately break them apart again.
If the effect of Lesser Spawn Conversion was the same—even at level 10—it should create three children for every adult Nephilim skeleton, or roughly 255 of the former “acolytes.” Except, it didn’t. It created four... then five. Excitement hummed in his veins, his mana running thick and warm through his skeletal limbs as he felt his horde grow, that insidious hunger echoing back and forth along the connection between him and his minions.
He added others, expanding his consciousness until it was spread as thin as a soap bubble. Merge and divide. Merge and divide. The cracking grew louder, almost like the entire dungeon was growling; like it was coming alive. Jason could feel the raw number of monsters in his dungeon swell, their presence almost overwhelming now.
That pressure was back with a vengeance. It was a crashing wave of force that threatened to unravel him, a splitting pain erupting from his temple as he kept merging and splitting the dungeon monsters, converting them one after another. It felt endless. Impossible. The weight of their combined consciousness crushing.
It wasn’t any one creature, but their collective mass. Alone, their thoughts were indistinct. But together they formed something that was more than the sum of its parts; something emergent. Each was a single worker within a swarm. When one of their thoughts shifted... it was swiftly followed by another, and another, until they were all thinking the same thing.
Or—not ‘thinking,’ exactly.
It was still more elemental. Emotional. A ravenous hunger for more.
For power. Autonomy. Freedom. To sweep free of this dungeon and devour a world.
Meanwhile, the tantalizing warmth of the dungeon’s mana pulsed through Jason like a drug. Weakening his resistance. He could feel his own sense of self starting to unravel; to merge with that collective; to add his voice to theirs—
Only for his body to rip away from the throne, standing abruptly as one of his original minions hauled him back to his feet.
“Whew,” he gasped, his hand pressed against the wall for support, his chest heaving and head pounding as he eyed the minion still grasping his arm. “Thank the gods I thought to order you to set a time limit.” He wasn’t sure what would have happened if he hadn’t…
Jason looked back at that urn, still pulsing with power. His expression was wary. Maybe it had a cost, after all. More than just bodies and tactics and public suicide.
Maybe it was testing his humanity. His willpower.
Maybe those two things weren’t so different.
Either way, his plan had worked... for now.
Possibly too well.
The narrow tunnels of the dungeon could no longer contain the Nephilim children. Their numbers had swelled beyond what this meager single level of the dungeon could hold, spilling into the throne room like a tide of death. The air was thick with their presence, oppressive and suffocating, as if the dungeon itself was alive and breathing through them.
Many hung from the ceiling, their hollow gazes fixed on Jason. Others stood in rigid silence, their forms perfectly still, yet brimming with latent energy. A hundred pairs of eyes glimmered in the gloom and watched him with an unsettling intensity. Waiting, judging, as if they blamed him for their deaths—and expected him to settle that debt with more bloodshed.
“I’m going to have to figure out a way to expand this place,” Jason muttered.
He had a feeling this single level wouldn’t be enough to contain them for long.
And then there was the fear beneath the pragmatism—the nagging uncertainty he was avoiding. Could he really control more? Hundreds? Or thousands? Or tens of thousands? Could he handle the dungeon by himself? Lure in the monsters needed to farm more mana? With no one to help him hunt? Memory issues aside, Alex had been invaluable.
And, right now, Jason could barely handle these minions.
However, he could only keep going; stay focused. The only choice was to train his Body Surfing further, to learn to resist the temptation and pressure of the horde; to hope it would be enough. Because, as much as he hated to admit it, Alfred was right.
“If you’re aren’t multiplying, you’re dying,” he murmured.
Comments
Terri Harris
I vote for bonus chapters each week to celebrate?
