Sweat dripped down Jamie's neck, soaking the stiff collar of his academy uniform. Fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, humming a monotonous, irritating tune that vibrated right through his skull. Around him, hundreds of graduates stood in neat, militaristic rows, their breaths shallow with anticipation. Today was the day they received their dungeon cores, the single most defining moment of their lives, and the pressure in the room was thick enough to choke on. Everyone else wore expressions of hungry ambition, their eyes locked onto the stage where the power of creation awaited. They dreamed of conquering vast territories, of building fortresses that would protect humanity from the looming threat of extra-dimensional invaders. Jamie just wanted to go home. His hands trembled in his pockets, fingers wrapping around a worn, silver pocket watch that had once belonged to his father. "Next up, the Elite Tier selections!" a booming voice echoed from the heavy speakers mounted on the high rafters. Academy Director Vance stood behind a polished obsidian podium, his chest puffed out with pride. Beside him sat a velvet-lined tray holding dozens of pulsating, glowing spheres. These were the pristine cores, destined for the top-ranking students of the year, each guaranteed to yield a highly profitable dungeon. Cold air blasted from the ventilation shafts, but it did nothing to cool the rising heat of the packed auditorium. Jamie shifted his weight from one foot to the other, trying desperately to blend into the background. He had deliberately kept his grades average, barely scraping by in combat classes to avoid drawing attention. If he got a weak, standard core, he could quietly retire to some rural outpost and live a quiet life far from the front lines. "Look at them," whispered Marcus, a high-ranking noble's son standing just a few feet ahead of Jamie. "Only twenty square meters of starting space, but with the right investment, we can expand to a hundred by next year." Marcus sneered, looking back at the lower-ranked students with open disdain, his posture oozing privilege. Whispers of agreement rippled through the front rows as other elite students nodded in self-righteous agreement. Twenty square meters was the absolute standard limit for a starting dungeon world. It was a universal law, hardcoded into humanity's system since the first Great Burst shattered the planet. To dream of anything larger at start was pure foolishness, a mathematical impossibility. Suddenly, a sharp, hissing sound pierced the air. A collective gasp echoed through the massive hall, cutting off the low hum of conversation. On the obsidian stage, one of the display cases had begun to vibrate violently, its glass surface cracking under some internal pressure. It wasn't one of the pristine, golden cores that the elites had been eyeing. Deep within a heavy glass containment jar, a small, sickly green sphere was thrashing wildly. Acidic bubbles popped against the inner glass, leaving ugly, corroded streaks that sizzled with toxic energy. It was a rogue slime core, rejected by every elite student who had approached the stage due to its unstable nature. Its energy signature was erratic, violent, and dangerously volatile. "Get that thing out of here!" Director Vance hissed to an assistant, his face flush with embarrassment under the bright stage lights. "We cannot present such a defective specimen to the board of overseers, especially not today." Before the assistant could step forward, the containment jar shattered with a deafening crack. Shards of glass rained down on the stage, glittering like deadly confetti under the harsh lights. The rogue core shot upward, trailing a thick, sizzling mist of green acid that ate through the wooden banners hanging behind the podium. It screamed through the air, a high-pitched whine that made everyone cover their ears in agony. Panic erupted in the front rows as students scrambled backward, tripping over their own feet and falling into chaotic piles. The acid-spewing sphere zipped over their heads, leaving a trail of scorched fabric and melted floor tiles in its wake. It was looking for a host, desperate, dying, and seeking any vessel to anchor its chaotic existence. Jamie stood frozen, his eyes wide as the green projectile zipped directly toward him. His limbs felt like lead, refusing to obey his mind's frantic commands to run. His chest tightened, a familiar, suffocating weight pressing down on his lungs as the world around him began to blur. The screech of the core sounded exactly like the emergency sirens from ten years ago. Suddenly, the high-tech auditorium melted away entirely. He was eight years old again, standing in the middle of a collapsing street during the Great Burst. Red dust choked the air, and the smell of ozone and burning flesh was overpowering. Giant, scaly beasts tore through concrete walls like wet paper, their roars shaking the very foundations of the earth. "Jamie, run!" his father had screamed, blood pouring from a massive wound in his chest. His father had used his own body to shield Jamie from a collapsing ceiling, his bones crushing under the weight of the debris. Jamie had been too terrified to move, his small hands trembling as he watched his father's life drain into the dusty pavement, helpless to stop it. "Move, you idiot!" someone screamed in the present, shattering Jamie's flashback and pulling him back to the harsh reality of the hall. Jamie blinked, but it was too late to react. The rogue slime core slammed directly into the palm of his right hand. A searing, white-hot agony flared up his arm, screaming through his nerves like liquid fire and forcing him to his knees. He clutched his wrist, his teeth grinding together so hard he tasted blood as the green sphere burrowed beneath his skin. Acidic heat melted the flesh of his palm, blackening the edges of his skin and exposing raw, pulsing tissue beneath. He gasped, but no sound came out of his constricted throat. The pain was absolute, dragging him down into a dark, swirling abyss of raw survival instinct. He didn't want to die here, not like his father, not leaving his mother and sister alone in this brutal world. Tears of sheer agony and deep-seated terror welled in his eyes, spilling over his pale cheeks. They dripped down his chin, landing directly onto the pulsing, green wound on his hand. The moment his tears mingled with the acidic ooze, a strange, cooling sensation washed over his entire body, dulling the excruciating pain. *Ding.* A soft, mechanical chime echoed inside his mind, silencing the frantic screams of the crowd around him. A translucent blue interface flickered to life before his eyes, hovering in the air like a holographic projection. [Core Integration Successful.] [Host: Jamie Chan] [Dungeon Type: Slime (Mutated / Rogue)] [Dungeon Size Limit: Infinity] Jamie stared at the glowing blue text, his breathing ragged and uneven. He rubbed his eyes with his uninjured hand, thinking the pain was making him hallucinate. Standard cores always showed a fixed limit of twenty square meters. He had memorized the textbooks cover to cover, and there was absolutely no mention of an 'Infinity' limit in any historical record. "What... what is this?" Jamie whispered, his voice trembling as he nursed his throbbing hand. The wound had stopped bleeding, replaced by a strange, glowing green crest that throbbed in sync with his rapid heartbeat, pulsing with an ancient, unfathomable power. On the stage, Director Vance was pale, his eyes darting from the broken glass to where Jamie knelt. The panic in the auditorium had quieted slightly, replaced by a tense, heavy silence as everyone stared at him. Their eyes were filled with horror and disgust, as if he were some monstrous abomination. "He's been infected by a rogue core!" someone shouted from the faculty ranks, pointing an accusing finger. "It's going to trigger a localized burst! He's a threat to the academy, a threat to us all!" Guards clad in heavy, mana-infused armor stepped forward, drawing their shock batons with synchronized efficiency. Their heavy boots thudded against the stone floor, a slow, terrifying rhythm that made Jamie's heart hammer against his ribs. He didn't want to fight, and he certainly didn't want to hurt anyone. "Please, stay back," Jamie gasped, raising his uninjured hand in a gesture of surrender. "I didn't mean to... it was an accident. I don't want to fight you." Nobody listened to his desperate pleas. The guards closed in, their faces grim behind their tinted visors, treating him like a wild animal that needed to be put down. To them, an unstable core host was nothing more than a ticking time bomb that needed to be dismantled immediately. Deep within Jamie's chest, a primordial force began to churn. The 'Infinity' core reacted to his absolute terror, tapping into a reservoir of mana so vast it defied the physical laws of the universe. The tiny green crest on his palm flared with a blinding, toxic light that cast long, distorted shadows across the high walls of the auditorium. As the Academy Director screams for security to neutralize the 'anomaly,' Jamie's shadow begins to swallow the entire stone stage, plunging the graduation hall into absolute, suffocating darkness.

A Kingdom has its start