I've definitely got a problem. It's nothing new, or even serious at this stage, but it's still a problem nonetheless.

  After running away from Edwan's talks of royalty, I needed to do something to take my mind off his comment. What did I do? I spent some points as a means of R&R is what I did. Now, spending points isn't my problem, I've got that shit down. It's my equivalent of retail therapy, but with less crippling debt and more... Questionable infrastructure decisions

  It's the fact that I get distracted and hype up my own ideas that gets me.

  Then again, I did quite a bit this morning so it's easy to see where the day's gone. My inner city planner, or maybe the whole once-upon-a-human thing, decided Varona's food production needed a serious upgrade. The Chicken Coops, became less "rusty shed" and more "Poultry Palace," the Pig Shacks, transformed into, well, slightly less smelly Pig Mansions, I know... Just don't, and the Cow Pits, surprisingly Luxurious Bovine Abodes. Their quality and output went through the roof. I'm practically running a five-star farm-to-table operation.

  Anyway, after that, I built a wall. Yep. An actual fucking wall. Like they have around real cities, except mine was built by a sentient dungeon with poor impulse control. I decided Varona finally needed a hug after what happened. A big, stonking, city-encircling hug and I even left room for expansion.

  Although, it's not like its placing is permanent. Since it's built by King Killer Abi, I can move, expand, and even upgrade the feature want. The perks of being a core.

  Now, I said I built a wall, and I did, but, it's not a very good wall. Not when you compare to the Sentry Towers made of Mythril in the forest anyway. No, the feature running around my city is made of stone and cost me half a day's income to erect. Not a scrap of iron, steel, or even a particularly interesting pebble. Just... Stone. And a deep, gnawing feeling that I should have invested in more Sentry Towers instead.

  So, yeah. I'm surrounded by happy livestock and a very, very average wall, wondering if I should start charging tourists for the "Authentic Siege Experience." Because, let's be honest, that's probably the only thing that wall is good for. It won't stand up to a demon attack, that's for sure.

  That was also when I should have stopped spending points. I was planning too, but as I made my way through the streets my mind wandered to those that made great contributions to the fight. Light sprung to mind immediately, an enigma wrapped in lethal grace, but I had no idea what to give the Master Assassin as a reward.

  With that in mind, I moved on to those I could reward. The dungeon Priests, surprisingly, top the list. A flicker of disbelief still sparks when I recall their victory against one of the Eyepatch twins. They, a group barely touched by the grind of leveling, managed to pull off a near-impossible feat. Only Zen, Ang, and Cardinal Carn have truly committed to the Coliseum's brutal training

  Ang is also known to frequent the Pleasure Palace, but that's neither here nor there. Although, you never know if that would help with leveling, but I'm definitely not about to ask Veris the finer points of what happens when she does what she does. Either way, it's a good job the Priests won because I'm going to need them for what's to come.

  Because they put forth such a good effort in, and because none of them are ready for evolution, I decided to upgrade their feature.

  The reward section seems silly at this stage. I can't even scratch my back with 32 points. I should tell Sis to leave that part out. To be honest, I could do without her snarky descriptions, too. All I really need to know are the benefits.

  Just like One For The Rogues', the Cathedral of Confession provided a boost to DP. As long as members of their congregation offer up a prayer on a daily basis, I'll bank twice as many points from them as I was before.

  The religious feature swells in a bloom of grandeur, dwarfing any growth I've ever witnessed so far. Marble, an obscene excess of it, infests every chamber. Even Cardinal Carn's personal room, a space that should be intimate, is violated by a useless, stubby column, a pure white intrusion. I can't even condemn it as gaudy; the marble is too breathtaking. Whiter than Veris' hair, each piece is a flawless, cold beauty. The congregation hall, a cavernous space, yawns before me, easily tripling in size. It's an impossible dimension, a trick of space stuffed into the Cathedral's shell.

  I port in and out, a dozen times, trying to reconcile the impossible geometry. There's space magic at play, I’m certain. Sis must be unconsciously activating it, a subtle tweak to the reward I bestowed. I don't mind, not at all. In fact, I crave it. I envision all my abilities evolving this way, a constant, organic expansion. Another item to add to my ever-growing list for Sis.

  If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  My trip through the Cathedral reveals a disturbing trend: my image everywhere. Artwork, sculptures, all dedicated to me. Most notably, a life-sized statue in the entrance hall, a perfect, gleaming replica.

  A flare of manufactured anger flickers within me. I should be outraged. This blatant idolatry, this... But a traitorous warmth spreads through my chest. I like it. I want to point it out, demand someone acknowledge it, bask in the attention, however fleeting. I want to... Alright, fine. I fucking love it. There, I said it. What more do you want? It fuels my goal, this deliberate reveal. No more human charade. I'm coming out, marble by marble, statue by statue.

  As I was gazing at the stone version of myself, I spotted Marie passing outside through the main door. My Space Mage was another person who did an amazing job during the battle and definitely needs some praise and recognition.

  My gaze, still lingering on the sculpted version of myself, catches Marie passing the cathedral's grand doors. My Space Mage, a vital force in the recent battle, deserves recognition, praise. I burst from the cathedral, the cool stone air a stark contrast to the burning confession I just made. "Marie!" I call, my voice echoing off the ancient stone. I sprint towards her, the urgency in my steps belying my supposed stoicism.

  After a breathless explanation, her face lights up, pure, unadulterated joy radiating from her. It’s infectious, pulling me into its orbit. I bask in her delight, the manufactured anger completely forgotten.

  Then she speaks, and the warmth evaporates. "I want to be a full-time member of the Syndicate," she grins, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. My excitement plummets. I can't say yes. Who will train the next generation of Space Mages? The Academy depends on her.

  "Marie, I need you here," I plead, my voice laced with a desperation I didn't intend to show. "How about this? Once you've trained three capable replacements, you can join the Syndicate. It solves both our problems, doesn’t it?" I’m pleased with my quick thinking, a solution conjured from thin air.

  Yet, a nagging feeling remains. It doesn't feel like enough. It feels like I'm merely pushing her towards what I wanted her to do anyway. A sense of guilt, foreign and unwelcome, claws at me. Unsure how to rectify the situation, I reach for a piece of myself, a broken fragment of my Core.

  I want to see what this does to a human, to her. I’m confident it won’t kill her. Humans absorb Dungeon Cores, gaining powers, transforming. This is a fragment, a piece of my heart, larger than any Core she’s likely seen. The jade shard pulses with a faint, inner light.

  Despite the clinical curiosity, a part of me feels like I'm using her. But I rationalize. It's for the greater good, for the future of Space Magic. Producing the shard, its green glow illuminating my palm, I offer it to Marie. Her fingers brush against it, and the fragment flares, a surge of energy flowing between us. I feel a strange connection, a thread of my essence woven into hers.

  "Will this make me an Assassin?" she asks, her eyes wide with hopeful anticipation. I sigh, a wave of disappointment washing over me. I’d hoped for something more, something… spectacular. She doesn't seem stronger, no visible changes, nothing like Colin’s transformation. Just… A deeper connection, a faint echo of my presence within her.

  "I'm not sure," I admit, "but it might improve your teaching skills. That way, you'll get what you want faster." A white lie, or a hopeful prediction? I’m not sure. But it leaves a sour taste in my mouth.

  Marie, ever the pragmatist, nods. "I'll hold a class then, see if anything's changed." She disappears, a swirl of fabric and anticipation, leaving me alone outside the cathedral.

  The guilt lingers, a dull ache in my chest. I didn't lie, not entirely. But it feels like a manipulation, a subtle nudge towards my own agenda. If she'd been more diligent, if she'd held regular classes, I'd have a legion of Space Mages by now. Her classes are as rare as a sunny day in a cave. And that, I realize, is the real problem.

  The lingering tension of this morning's point-spending dissipates with a deep, deliberate exhale. I try to center myself, reminding myself of the countless contributions that deserve recognition. But the sun, now a brazen glare in the sky, heralds the arrival of the triplets, each radiating a distinct aura.

  I say goodbye to Marie as Violet saunters over, a picture of blasé coolness, while Blondie's face beams with an almost blinding brightness. Then there's Amber, a whirlwind of red hair and raw, unadulterated fury.

  "Master! Do you have any idea what time it is? How long I've been waiting? My tummy is absolutely aching!" Her voice cracks, and tears threaten to spill. A wave of guilt washes over me, a sharp, stinging reminder of my impulsive point splurge. I'd intended to make headway with Ishda. Instead, I've erected a wall, a monstrous, aesthetically unpleasing structure that mocks the elegance of Varona.

  "I'm sorry, Amber," I placate, my voice thick with remorse. "Extra portions, I promise. As much as you want." Her tear-streaked face instantly brightens, a testament to her single-minded devotion to food. "And good morning to you," I add, including Bear, who's currently being scratched behind the ears by Violet.

  "We're fine, thanks," Violet replies, her smile subtle but genuine. Bear rumbles contentedly.

  "I'm fine too, thank you. It's a beautiful morning, isn't it? How are you, Abi?" Blondie's eyes, wide and luminous, lock onto mine, her anticipation palpable.

  "It is indeed," I answer, my gaze softening. "And I'm good, thank you, Blondie. I'm sorry I wasn't here when you woke up. I wanted to get my spending done early, so we could enjoy the day together."

  We begin our walk to Ali's, a familiar routine now. The high street buzzes with life, a symphony of friendly waves and excited greetings. Varona, my Varona, is a testament to the potential of a well-managed dungeon.

  Ali's eateries are scattered throughout the city, but the one near the central fountain holds a special allure. It's the heart of Varona, a hub of activity surrounded by the guilds, the council, and a myriad of shops. The fountain itself is a masterpiece, its water sparkling in the sunlight, casting rainbows across the cobblestones. It's a place of tranquility, a stark contrast to the chaotic, often dangerous, cities I've visited before.

  Brunch is a boisterous affair. Amber devours her extra portions with gusto, while Blondie, Violet, and Bear indulge in larger-than-usual meals, their unspoken reproach for my absence hanging in the air. I make a mental note to tell them they don't have to wait for me. They're free to live their lives, to enjoy their days, just like everyone else in Varona.

  Their lives are so different from my past. If I'd had their comfort and safety, I doubt I'd be a Dungeon Core now. Yet, I wouldn't trade this existence for anything. The triplets, their laughter, their unwavering affection, they're irreplaceable. They're as much a part of me as the very essence of my core.

  A strange, almost unsettling realization washes over me: I don't want to be human anymore. This existence, this connection to my family, is more fulfilling than anything I could have imagined. If I were human, the triplets would be a distant memory, a "what if" lost to the tides of fate.

  Their smiles, their words, they are the very fabric of my happiness. And it's not just them. Me, Kat, Light, Veris, Anya, Becca – each one a unique, vibrant thread in the tapestry of my family. They're all eccentrics, each with their own quirks and charms. If only one of them held a talent for focused listening.