The pile of bones on the cavern floor looked vaguely like an animal if you squinted hard and had poor judgment. That was fine. Everything worthwhile starts off ugly.
I evaluated the pieces.
The hyena's spine bends well. Good for flexibility.
Ribs are naturally curved — useful.
Leg bones are sturdy enough to support weight if arranged properly.
The skull… well. It's a skull. You can only do so much with one expression.
I rearranged the parts, nudging them with mana-enhanced intent.
The stone helped, subtly forming channels and grooves to guide the assembly.
It seems my "body" has opinions about design.
Fortunately, they aligned with mine.
Piece by piece, the shape became clearer.
Not a beast meant to hunt in the wild.
A beast meant to guard a fixed space.
Different requirements entirely.
Strong forelimbs for grappling.
A reinforced chest cavity.
Back legs less critical — minimal jumping in here.
A jaw that clamps hard enough to dissuade visitors.
I pressed mana into the bones to fuse them.
The sensation was like heating metal—no sound, but a soft internal pressure as they knitted together.
This wasn't creation.
It was assembly, repurposing.
Recycling, if we want to be environmentally conscious.
The dungeon expanded a little again, almost approvingly.
A subtle vibration through the walls — like a nod.
All right. Good teamwork.
The hide came next.
Stretched across the frame, patched, not elegant.
Functional.
A creature doesn't need beauty to bite.
The result wasn't alive, of course.
Just a carcass arranged in a more polite shape.
But seeing it there sent a mild thrill through me.
Progress.
A faint thought brushed me—
not intrusive, not foreign, just… logical.
It needs a core.
Something small.
A battery more than a soul.
Reasonable.
Life needs an anchor.
Movement needs fuel.
The dungeon wall produced a small shard of mana-rich stone, a cousin of me but far cruder.
Small enough to fit inside the chest cavity.
I guided it in place.
Bones closed around it neatly.
The mana shard pulsed faintly.
Once.
Then went still.
Good enough.
I sat with the prototype for a moment—
observing the shape, checking for flaws.
Too much weight on the right. I fixed that.
Jaw alignment slightly crooked. Corrected.
Claws angled poorly. Adjusted.
The entire process felt… normal.
As normal as drafting a design on a late-night whim back when I had a desk and a laptop.
Back then it was fiction.
Now it was anatomy.
Interesting transition.
Stone shifted behind me again.
The alcove I'd shaped earlier seemed to widen on its own, as if anticipating a guest.
Helpful.
I pulled the finished frame onto the alcove with a slide of stone.
It rested there quietly, waiting.
A half-born thing.
A seed rather than a creature.
Not alive.
Not yet.
But certainly not dead.
I pulsed, almost reflexively, sending a thin line of mana through the air.
The prototype absorbed it faintly.
Good.
Then another subtle thought surfaced, practical as ever:
It will need more energy.
More material.
More refinement.
I agreed.
This was only version one.