e621.net · 5749168

> story
Red's Dungeon Dairy
Day 10: Giant Slugs

Stepping into the third floor of the dungeon, after what felt like an endless spiral descent from the second floor, leads adventurers into a realm entirely different from anything above.

One immediately notices the shift in the environment. As adventurers move farther away from the gate connecting floor two and deeper into floor three, metallic structures begin to appear—thick and winding like veins. Pipes, gears, bolts, screws, and woven cables snake along the walls, sprout from the floors, and hang from the ceiling.

The deeper one goes, the more it becomes clear: this is the domain of the ancient God of Machines.

Metal structures grow denser and begin to split into multiple narrow tunnels and winding passageways. These mechanical corridors dominate much of floor three’s layout. Still, there are occasional open areas and wider chambers that adventurers can reach if they follow the right narrow paths. Veteran explorers have mapped out many of these safe routes, marking them to help others avoid dead ends and, more importantly, to steer clear of the dangerous territories controlled by the Machine Cult—a hostile force that poses a greater threat than most of the natural inhabitants of this floor.

However, such marked paths rarely remain intact for long. The metal structures constantly shift over time: old pipes shrink or crumble into soft fragments, while new ones emerge, twisting the layout into new forms. Tearing down these structures is near impossible—not just due to their resilience, but because they are not inanimate.

They are living components of the third floor—entities born from the will of the Machine God who resides here. The pipes generate intense heat, making navigation difficult, and a thick, black, oil-like fluid runs through them, distributing warmth and energy throughout the entire floor. Damaging these tubes causes the fluid to leak. Studies suggest that this black liquid functions like blood—sustaining this floor as if it were a massive living organism.

Any harm to the dungeon’s infrastructure can trigger the floor’s immune system, provoking the mechanical inhabitants to become openly hostile toward intruders.

Aside from these machine-based lifeforms—many of which dwell silently in cracks and recesses—there exists a single known organic species native to this biome: the giant slugs.

These grotesque, slimy creatures thrive in the damp, warm environment of the pipe systems. They have been observed absorbing the leaking black fluid, and interestingly, pipes in areas where the slugs have established nests seem to rupture or dismantle themselves voluntarily, allowing the creatures to feed.

This has led some researchers to speculate a form of symbiosis: the slugs drink the machine-blood, and in return, the viscous mucus they leave behind coats the surrounding gears, preventing rust and allowing mechanisms to move more smoothly.
Today, Red finally stepped onto the third floor of the dungeon. He immediately noticed the abrupt shift in environment: the heavy stench of rusted metal filled the air, accompanied by the constant clattering of turning gears and the low tremble of water running through metal pipes.

The paths narrowed and became more difficult to traverse, eventually forcing him to crawl. The heat radiating from the pipes made it hard to breathe, and crawling with bare hands and feet left his skin scorched and raw.

After some time, he emerged into a more open area at the end of the tunnel. He took a deep breath, only to have a foul stench rush into his nose—moist, rotten, and thoroughly repulsive. That was when he noticed the sticky, slimy mixture beneath his feet.

He had heard of them before—the giant slugs that lived in symbiosis with the dungeon’s machines. It would be best to leave their territory immediately, he knew. These creatures were notoriously protective of the metal structures they coexisted with.

But before he could move, a massive slug dropped from the ceiling. The weight of its gelatinous body crashed onto him, pinning him in place. He couldn’t move. Gripping the creature’s slimy mass only caused his hands to sink deeper into its flesh.

The overwhelming stench made him dizzy as the slug began to wrap itself around his body with immense strength. Faint memories surfaced in his mind—of the bugs he had encountered on his very first day in the dungeon.

That’s right.

The entire dungeon was in a mating season.

And this slug was no exception. It had already prepared a fresh clutch of eggs—and now, it had found a suitable host to help complete the next miraculous cycle of nature.