Architect

A Worm/13th Age Crossover

I didn't know where I was.

One second, it was a locker filled with filth, the next, some kind of brick chamber, lit by some kind of neon light.

It was a large chamber, and above all else a clean one, so I wasn't alarmed. In fact, I felt...safe, here. Protected. At home.

After ruining said cleanliness with my puke, I let my eyes adjust a bit. Huh, looked kind of...medieval? Almost like a throne room without tapestries. No lighting apart from the "neon" though, which on second impression seemed to be more like luminescent paint. Lots of shadows.

About the only noteworthy thing was the throne, which appeared to be made of onyx and coated with scarlet bedding. Looked intimidating. And comfortable, if you slouched. Apart from those, the only decorations were spikes and a blue gem that looked kind of like a polyhedron.

Eerie. Or at least, that's what it seemed to want to look like. For some reason, it just looked like a good place to finally have the breakdown.

So that's where it happened. I began to sink into the chair, quietly sobbing.

Why? Why did it come to this?

Why, for once in my life, can't I have a friend again? A real, true friend, one I can finally rely on?

Does [Crafter/Administrator/Designer] require [columns/support]?

There's a teenage girl bawling her eyes out and screaming at the injustice of the world WHAT DO YOU TH-

Who said that?

[Installation/Soul/Self] was responding to [work order/request], [Crafter/Administrator/Designer].

I tensed. That was not a voice I heard; More like my own thoughts saying something alien.

[Installation/Soul/Self] does not have necessary [amenities/mouth/organs] to communicate verbally.

Okay, so I was either going insane or the captive of some kind of telepath. Huroo. Holy shit. Fuck my life. Just fuck it.

Slowly, I started to break into hysterics.

The seat's spike suddenly animated and caught me in a tight hug. I was too shocked to react at first, but then the cushioning got in on the act.

[Repair/Assurance] that everything is [on schedule/working out okay], [Crafter/Administrator/Designer].

...Fuck it. If this was a delusion, it was certainly nicer than the real world. If this was an actual cape with an odd way of "speaking", even better. I didn't care who it was, it could be, I don't know, Genoscythe the Eyeraper and it would seem like an improvement.

Is term new [project designation/moniker]?

NO! That was a joke!

Understood. Previous statement [regarded as blueprint error/ignored].

...Just who are you anyway?

A pause of absolutely nothing transpired.

...Here.

Huh. Odd name for a parahuman, but-

[Construction/Flesh/Body] is not parahuman. [Construction/Flesh/Body] is here.

...I don't understand.

The lights suddenly flared. The bricks shifted as the spike-arm gestured over them. I noticed the polyhedron gem was glowing.

Here.

...What?

[Installation/Soul/Self] is subterranean entity. [Installation/Soul/Self] has [documentation/memories] of being referred to as "living dungeon." [Documentation/Memories] also refers to other [project designation/moniker] as Rubicon of Worlds.

...

What.

...[Instillation/Soul/Self]-

I got that, but...living dungeon?

[Installation/Soul/Self] is [material: terrestrial matter/earth] [composite/elemental] [design plan/subrace] known to [building zone/native dimension] [pests/hostiles/inhabitants] as "living dungeon." [Installation/Soul/Self] is self-aware architectural entity capable of replication of other lifeforms as [construction crew/maintenance/antibodies/mouths/service force]. [Installation/Soul/Self] was not aware [Crafter/Administrator/Designer]'s species was capable of independent communication until shortly ago. [Installation/Soul/Self] is pleased by this turn of events. [Documentation/Memories] suggest [schedule/forecast] of...loneliness given inability to communicate with other living dungeons.

O...kay...

But could you get me back home? I know it's difficult, but your new friend really wants to go back, hug her dad, and cry herself to sleep. I'll talk with you later.

[Work goal/Request] recieved. Please hold...

There was a rumbling sound resounding around the throne room.

Shortly thereafter, a wall suddenly swung open like a door, with a bit of earth spilling in before sunlight poured through.

As my eyes adjusted, I could see, in rapid succession, my house, my dad, and my dad dropping a cup of coffee.

Several Months Later

Trap, disarm, smash. Lather, flood, repeat.

If Leviathan could be said to have any human emotions, the one it would be feeling now would be annoyance. Yes, the traps hurt, but it was an Endbringer! Hurt was its existence, especially at the bottom of the ocean and crushing depths.

Releasing off a bit of steam-its equivalent of growling-the Doom of Kyushu shook off the effects of the inferno and washed away the strange apparatus before resuming its flooding of the target-

Huh, that mountain wasn't there before. Irregularity, it looked almost constructed. Leviathan decided to make investigating it a priority-

The mountain burst open. The inside was perfectly hollow, except for a large entity whose hydoform looked to be a nearly exact mirror image of-

Hold

A nearly exact mirror image of Leviathan itself, except with the eyes placed to resemble a normal human face, albeit sans mouth, an extra pair of limbs, and the bioform on top of it that the minute differences in its hydroform suggested that it was "grinning madly."

Leviathan sent new information to Simurgh for suggestions.

Advisement: Abort mission.

Leviathan didn't need to have human emotions to feel fear at that moment.

The small hydroform made a noise. To human ears, it sounded like "Sic em' Bahamut."

As part of my driving ethos to make Taylor D&D villains, I make her: THE DUNGEON MASTER!

(Seriously, dungeons in 13th Age are, more often than not, a malicious species of earth elemental that burrows up from the Underworld).