Molly

Day One Today marks the beginning of my so-called vacation with Father. Liverpool for a month — not my first choice, but tolerable enough. At least there’s entertainment: the peasants here scurry about their races, striving and sweating for coin or glory, and I’ll watch for my amusement. Still, something gnaws at me. The ground trembles beneath my boots, faint quakes that rattle cups and send ripples through puddles. Not strong… not yet. But they return, again and again, like the city itself is trying to breathe.

Day Five The quakes haven’t stopped. Four days straight, their rhythm is no longer random — they’re pulsing, continuous. Today it hasn’t ended at all; the earth has been groaning for nine hours without pause. My teeth ache with the vibrations. It cannot be natural. Perhaps an Evolon’s prank? If so, it’s a cruel one.

Day Eight The city fell. It fell. It fell. Oh, bloody hell—IT FELL.

One moment, I was with Father at the hotel window. The next, the ground yawned open like a beast, and Liverpool was swallowed whole. Towers folded into the abyss like toys. The street cracked, vomiting dust and fire. I only had time to scream before the world became ruin.

Now, beneath the earth, creatures I cannot name stalk the rubble. They tear through the survivors like wet paper, screams shredding the silence every few seconds. Me and Father are trapped in the hotel’s husk. I can hear the slaughter outside… and the smell—copper, smoke, and rot—creeps through every crack. My hands won’t stop shaking.

Day Twenty-One Father is dead.

It happened so fast. The beast came from the shadows, a blur of claws and teeth, and tore him in half before he even turned his head. One heartbeat he was beside me, the next his blood was painting the walls.

I locked myself in a closet, my face buried in my knees, sobbing until my throat went raw. The image won’t leave me—his body crumpling, the way his hand twitched even after death. I’ve never been this afraid. Not once in my life. Even now, my hands won’t steady. I can still hear the ripping sound.

Day Thirty-Two I killed someone today.

A man came at me, desperate, eyes wide like a cornered animal. I begged him to stop. He didn’t. The knife moved almost on its own, and when it was over he was lying there, gasping. I watched the life leak out of his eyes, slower than I thought it would be. My hands are stained, and I keep scrubbing but the smell of iron won’t wash away.

I never thought I was capable of such a thing. Now I know better.

Day Forty The headaches are growing unbearable. My powers are… unstable. The plants listen, but not like before. They twist and pulse when I command them, as though they’re alive in ways I can’t comprehend. And always, the whispers: come to the center. Over and over, endless, clawing at my skull.

I tried to leave the ruins today. I can’t. The moment I crossed the city’s edge, agony wracked my body. I vomited until I collapsed, then blacked out. When I awoke, I was back inside the city again, like it spat me back out.

There is no escape.

Day Forty-Five Survivors. I found them — thin, gaunt, hollow-eyed, but alive. They look at me like I’m their leader, their enforcer. Me. I should take them out, find a way, but the whispers won’t stop. The center.

And my powers… they’re different now. Stronger. I can coax vines to grow through rubble, shape walls of root and timber to block the beasts. I can tear stone aside with tendrils of moss. It feels good. Too good.

Maybe we don’t need to escape. Maybe we need to go deeper.

Day Seventy I rescued a straggler today. He doesn’t look like anyone from Liverpool — his clothes are strange, his gear stranger still, like something out of a storybook. He called himself an adventurer.

When I pressed him, he told me something insane: this place, the ruins we’re trapped in, isn’t just ruins. It’s part of a dungeon. He said dungeons grow endlessly, swallowing cities whole. Ours was simply one of the unlucky ones to fall inside.

I don’t know if I should believe him, but it explains too much. The whispers, the monsters, the walls shifting when I’m not looking. Liverpool isn’t Liverpool anymore. We’re somewhere else entirely.

Fire Warrior here! I’m just dropping in to make an announcement about the collab. (I’ve got way too much to do—welp, time to bury myself in endless bot-making!)

So, what’s happening in the collab is that I’ll be teaming up with Damascus616/Toffee. Here’s how it’ll work: I’ll create a few Evolon characters and put them in the dungeon, while Damascus616 will make a few Dungeon Earth characters and drop them into Evolon.

The first character I’ve decided to make is Queen Chlorophyll. She’ll be a multi-story bot character, meaning I’ll create multiple different versions of her. Each version will explore her time in the dungeon and how she adapts to it.

If you want to check out the original character, here’s the link below. And while you’re at it, make sure to give Damascus616 a follow!

https://janitorai.com/characters/654a8862-cba9-4873-8717-5d3100cfbdb4_character-queen-chlorophyll

Before I wrap this up, here’s some bonus content for Queen Chlorophyll:

external image: files.catbox.moe

And since I went a little extra, I even made some stuff for Wallpaper Engine—enjoy!

Queen Chlorophyll (audio version) https://steamcommunity.com/sharedfiles/filedetails/?id=3564172306 Queen Chlorophyll (non-audio version) https://steamcommunity.com/sharedfiles/filedetails/?id=3564179222

I made a song of her

https://soundcloud.com/fire-warrior-76290303/queen-chlorophyll