I took a moment to admire my dungeon as a whole, then stopped and looked again.

  I had pre-chosen locations for plants, and mice to bring the seeds there. I had pre-chosen locations for the mice to spread to when they filled their current nest.

  I had a Larval Bumblebee Queen getting ready to pupate so that she could grow all the way up and start laying eggs.

  I designated three Icy Bumblebee Nests in one of the cold rooms that hadn't been dug out yet, and intent snapped into place.

  Minion Homes Assigned

  I set population caps, ratios of adults to larvae to eggs, everything the nests would need to fill up and defend me. Then I checked my new areas.

  The halls leading from my core room into the next two rooms were done, and the rooms themselves had started to appear. I spent some time texturing the halls, inspecting their finer details, and putting rough ledges into the walls and stalactites onto the ceilings. Then, while I waited for my dungeon to expand around me so that I could get more work done, I pulled up the list of my stored impurities to see what I had to work with (and, I assumed, what was around me).

  Impurities In Storage:

  {Arachnid; Bat; Beetle; Breeze; Cone, Pine; Construction; Dragon; Dung; Earth; Egg; Egg, Fly; Egg, Spider; Feldspar; Flower; Flower, Edelweiss; Flight; Fly; Fungus; Granite; Grass; Growth; Goblin; Insect; Iron; Lichen; Life; Light; Light, Moon; Light, Star; Light, Sun; Maggot; Mammal; Mica; Monster; Mouse; Plant; Quartz; Root; Rot; Seed; Seed, Pine; Seedpod; Silk, Spider; Snow; Snow, Heavy; Snow, Light; Snow, Light, Morning; Smoke; Soil; Spider; Stone; Tree; Tree, Pine; Web, Spider; Wind; Wind, Strong...}

  I zoned out a little. The list was long enough that I didn't want to read through all of it. I didn't feel particularly full, though, even with so many impurities stored in my core.

  I checked my logs.

  That was - that was a lot of core upgrades.

  I adjusted the upper limit on individual impurities to five, then adjusted a few priorities. First, bank five of an impurity. Then, if there are five of an impurity, use it to fill in empty treasure nodes as needed. Finally, if there are no direct uses for that impurity (and there are at least five of it), use one impurity of that type to upgrade the dungeon core for more storage space.

  A nagging hunger that I hadn't even realized I'd felt eased as I began to fill back up.

  ---

  Alan woke slowly. He was stiff and cold, and his everything ached, and he felt so much better than he did when he fell asleep. Also, much more horizontal, and much less shod. He wiggled his toes. Yeah, no shoes.

  He was laying on the ground, on a sleeping roll, with his cloak draped over him to keep him warm. There was something hard - borderline sharp - pressing into his butt. He hoped it was a rock.

  The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  "Uuggghhhh," he said, both to tell his companions that he was awake, and to express how shitty he felt.

  "Uuurrrrggghhhhh," Flora answered softly.

  Alan opened his eyes and turned his head. She was pale, with bloodshot eyes. Her hair, usually well kept, was best left undescribed. Put simply, she looked the way he felt.

  "Good morning, sleepy heads!" Luke chirped. A man that large should not chirp. "I've got breakfast, if you feel up to eating it!"

  "That," Flora groaned, "will depend entirely on what it is."

  "Plain gruel with a tiny bit of salt and lard," Luke said, "and hot herbal tea with a bit of honey."

  Alan's stomach cramped. He couldn't tell if it was from hunger or nausea, or maybe both. The thought of eating anything brought twisting and churning, and he made a hasty decision.

  "Tea," he grunted, and held out a hand.

  "Gruel," Flora retorted in the same tone. She held out a hand, too.

  "Sit. Up," Luke matched their energy. It was a little ruined by the bowl he held in one hand and the cup in the other, both steaming.

  Alan levered himself up. He didn't need help. He could do it himself. He only fell over twice. By the time he'd gotten into a sitting position, Flora was on her feet and holding the bowl, shoveling gruel into her face like she hadn't eaten in days.

  The tea turned out to be really good. It was hot and mild, only a little grassy, and just sweet enough to taste like a treat instead of medicine, even though it was definitely medicine. It even had that weird, tangy aftertaste that only Luke's remedies ever had.

  "How are you feeling?"

  When did Luke get in his face?

  "Like shit," Alan said. 'Never lie to the team healer,' Alan thought.

  "Can you stand up and walk? And do you want any gruel?"

  "Don't know, and no."

  Luke nodded his head, short brown hair bobbing up and down with the motion, his dark eyes fixed on Alan's face.

  "Try then. I need to know if I'm carrying you again today."

  Memories rushed back and an unstoppable tide of shame came with them. Alan chugged his tea, burned his tongue, and scrambled to his feet.

  He fell over. Luke caught him.

  "Sit," Luke said firmly.

  "I don't want to be carried," Alan said. He sat before Luke could give him a Look.

  "Stay," Luke said.

  Alan stayed.

  He stayed when Flora laughed at him. He stayed when Luke took his cup and then brought it back, filled with more steaming tea. He stayed and drank the tea while Luke walked around the little camp site, inspecting plants and muttering to himself.

  Flora helped herself to some tea and sat down on a log to drink it. Luke poked at trees and bushes. Alan stayed where he was, holding his empty cup and wiggling his burnt tongue.

  Flora helped herself to another serving of gruel and ate it with exaggerated "yum" faces and belly rubbing in Alan's general direction. He turned his head away from her and watched Luke instead.

  Finally, Luke stopped walking in circles and talking to plants and raised his arms into the air.

  The world shook, something twisted, and the tree Luke was standing in front of spat out a walking stick. Luke picked the stick up off the ground, patted the tree a couple of times, and then brought it over to Alan.

  "Try this," he said tersely.

  Alan tried it. Leaning on the stick, he could stay upright and, slowly, walk under his own power.

  "I'll carry his stuff," Luke said. "Flora, help me pack up camp. Alan, rest."

  Alan rested. Flora helped Luke. She did maybe a quarter of the work he did, which was still way more than Alan's no work at all, but she didn't have to stop and rest (or puke), so that was... an improvement over yesterday? He thought?

  "How much longer am I going to feel like crap?" he asked petulantly when Luke came over to roll up his bedroll.

  "You'll feel like crap for as long as you feel like crap," Luke said. "And then you'll feel better. Have some more tea."

  Alan drank the tea, leaned back against a tree, and watched his teammates pick up the camp. When it was time to go, he levered himself up off the ground, gripped his new walking stick tightly, and set off at a slow stagger. Flora didn't move much faster, and Luke brought up the rear, occasionally calling out directions or suggesting that they take a break.