A buzzing entered my ear, I softly shuffled within my blanketing and pushed the fungus that woke me up. It's familiar squish brought me from my stupid as I stretched and stared up at my ceiling.
"H-hah… another cycle, another me-!" I proudly smiled before peeling myself from my bedding. I stumbled across my humble, wooden home to a soft pool of water gathering within the floor.
"Good rebirth, me-!" I waved excitedly at my reflection. "My, my, aren't you beautiful this cycle?"
I stared at my reflection. Mushy and soft body like moss, and a bright pink mushroom cap from my stalk.
"Mm… yes, Lona, you look absolutely stunning-!" I jokingly replied to myself from the reflection, striking quick poses with my white roots. "Let me think, the cycle is blue instead of red… so, perhaps a nice set of white frills may look good."
I focused on the Mushrooms around my damp, wooden home, and absorbed them into my body. Spawning from spores and mycelium, a beautiful row of frills spawned from the lower half of my root in a frilly dress.
"My, so pretty~!" I complimented myself, happily twirling around with the beautiful piece of work I made myself. "Right, since the Cycle is blue today that means rot-folk are prowling about… perfect-! I can stock up on bones and flesh to grow my body, absolutely brilliant!"
After a quick morning routine, I left my small log with my bags and walking stick in hand. The brilliant blue lights of glowing mushrooms illuminated the sky and walls of the cavernous realm.
It's a shame we won't last for much longer, but it's no use in being sad about it! I'm going to continue my duty and work hard for the sake of the colony-!
I breathed in and out as I began my routine, washing myself with a calm stillness.
I passed by a few of my neighbors, some were dressed in wooden armor and others draped in frills and mushroom caps. I waved to them happily and ignored their sneers and mockery, then left to visit outside the root system.
It didn't take long for me to spot those… rotting creatures.
I could see them from behind the moldy lines of sinew within the walls. For all their size, the creatures seemed quite massive. Their fingers were long, very slender, almost like a person's fingernails. Almost, but not quite.
Not so much as to make my knees wobble.
Their toes were also slender and pointed. Some were quite long. Others were just a little shorter. They had a small, round head, which I guessed was like a person. A small chin, too.
One of them had very pointed ears, I think.
In some way, or another, these beasts were trying to conceal their rotting bodies, to hide.
I don't know exactly what that meant.
Perhaps it implied that the dead people who still wandered here were fresher than most, leaving behind more of their original bodies. Maybe they could be hidden from the eyes of those who were left or they were only trying to appear living.
That was the only conclusion I came to.
Of course, my own feelings about these things were complicated. These creatures were in our world. There was no doubt about that. Our world was their world too. So I decided that my life would involve a lot of traveling, and a lot of… trapping.
I wasn't good at fighting, but anyone can sharpen a stick. I laid many of them out in large pits and lured the hordes into them, culling them as much as I could to prevent their spread to the others of my kind here. My kind didn't appreciate my work, thinking it to be stupid to fight against the inevitable. Eventually, after a long cycle, all the minions were gone for a short while.
The only ones left were me and the giant who called himself 'Dante.' I suppose he was trying his best to stay alive, sending the undead forth to fight his battles for him and avoiding my traps when he could only run away when things were unfavorable to him.
He grew smarter each time, moving the undead in patterns and organizing them to avoid my pits. With each adaptation he made, I had to grow smarter and my traps became more elaborate. When Dante was dead, I had a feeling of joy and satisfaction. I celebrated to myself knowing the hordes would stop even for a little while.
It didn't last long, as it seemed that Dante came back by the next cycle each and every time without fail... and while I was resting, he would take away yet another member of my colony.
It was something I would have to work out with what time I have left.
The cycle continued just like any other as the routine of leading them into dangerous traps and baiting them out to their demise dulled my senses with exhaustion, I heard a massive commotion.
I heard panicked yelling in a language I couldn't understand, it's voice was crackly and like a radio but it's noise almost burst my soft skin.
The noise collided with Dante's roars, as I heard the behemoth's thunderous stomos against the mushy, dirt floor of this enclosed cave world.
I didn't dare look beyond my hiding spot for a short while, my breath thinned as my myconid heart pulsed. The magic in my veins tensed and struggled under the pressure and fear, the grip on my spear tightened.
"N-no… there can't b-b-be something like that…-!" I whispered under my breath before gasping and covering my mouth.
I sensed a presence looking at me. 'It knows where I am- no no, that can't be possible-- I… I must be imaging things- no, I got to be dreaming-!'
I heard the slamming of Dante's club hit against something hard, then the shattering of wood exploding and a yelp from the giant undead. One of the splinters landed nearby my little cubby in the mycelium.
'D-do I dare risk moving--?'
"Well, it matters not." I heard Dante's deep, rotten voice echo softly from throughout the cavern. "Lord Umbra will have his will mantained in this world…you cannot interfere."