Isekai Dungeon Architect

The small thing blinked at me again with its enormous green eye, swallowing the room in a single, earnest look.

It was ridiculous… the pure look was so earnest I couldn't help but be amazed at those eyes.

"Wow…" I whispered, because it felt criminal to say anything louder.

The inn's lamp light caught in the glossy black of its skin— leather-smooth, like someone had varnished onyx until it shone.

Down its back, a halo of white feathers puffed soft as baby down. Two tiny wings ticked at its sides, logically useless for flight but somehow dramatic.

Did it have a tail? Not exactly. A curling stub, more like a flourish than a limb, was present on the back.

And that eye… that ridiculous, dragon-bright green eye that looked like it knew too many jokes glared back at me with a look of utter reverence.

[ "Against a ninety-three percent failure rate… You succeeded. And you have created a Unique Being." ]

Rosaviel's voice pulsed like a second heartbeat through my skull.

Her tone wasn't congratulatory. Rosaviel wasn't the type to hand out cheap claps on the back, but even she couldn't mask the weight in those words.

I looked down at the strange little creature blinking up at me with its adorable green eye, singular because there was only one, wings twitching as though daring the world to underestimate it. It was cute. It was weird. And absolutely one-of-a-kind.

"Yeah," I whispered, lips tugging upward once again. "Unique is one way to put it."

"Qwy~!"

The little thing made a noise. A squeak of high and ecstatic noise, like a tea kettle giggling on a soft afternoon.

The unique sound fluttered across the room and lodged in my sternum, where it made my ribcage go all soft.

"My baby," I adored, the words meaning nothing much and everything at once. "What should I call you?"

It tilted the round eye, which was also its entire body, the feather halo behind ruffling slowly.

I could tell it had recognised me, its mother, its creator, and it was waiting for me to finish what I was doing, as if it understood all my intentions completely.

The squeak from earlier had simply turned into a tiny trill of expectation for me.

'Naming is important.'

Names frame things. Names make promises in this world where magic and status windows region, a name of your own is the very first distinction of individuality, separating you from the beasts and other common kinds of creatures.

"Hmmm…"

I dug through the stack of ridiculous names I'd been hoarding for hypothetical pets— Bubbles, Glint, Byte, Supernova maybe— but then the perfect sound slid out of my mouth as if it had been waiting on the tip of my tongue.

"Qwy."

Not Q-W-Y. Not a human pronounceable thing. Just Qwy. The first words the creature had spoken, the first sound it had made… it landed in the air like a spell.

The little eyeball swiveled, blinked twice, and gave a squeal of the purest, most catastrophic delight. She was happy with the new name.

It hopped off the ground and unfurled the pure feathers, jumping into the air with such excitement that it made me feel like someone had just announced free cake.

Then it flung itself at my knee, warm and absurdly solid despite the soft looks, and made a noise that was half purr, half pneumatic toy.

"Wow, haha." I laughed until my stomach hurt at this funny scene.

"Hi, Qwy," I greeted my first little baby, because naming is also admitting parenthood, which was terrifying and sweeter than anything I'd felt since the hot-chocolate vendor poured his first cup back at the association. "Welcome to the mess."

Rosaviel's soft bubble of text slid along the edge of my vision, practical and proud, unlike her usual, dignified tone.

[ "Designation received: Qwy. Registering the first creation of the System owner. Retrieving Status assigned from the world." ]

A neat status pane unfurled in a ribbon beside the creature. The layout looked like the world's most polite bureaucracy had vomited on a luxury app... It was crisp, official, and neatly detailed.

===Status===

ID: Qwy

Classification: Unique Companion (Uncatalogued)

Energy: 45/45

Essence Bond: Aria Cartethyia Solona (Soul-Latch Active)

Affinity: Mana Threads (Adaptive), Empathic Resonance

Core Stability: 3

Growth Potential: ???

Level: 1

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Innate Skills:

• Soul-Latch (SSS): Permanently bound to Aria's essence. Shares fragments of mood, instinct, and intent.

• Honeybreath (A): Emits calming pheromones that influence emotional states and encourage natural growth around its presence.

• Glimmer-Pew (C): Fires ocular light that temporarily reveals hidden mana threads and dazzles enemies.

• Mystic Mimic (F*): Can record and reproduce nonverbal mana patterns after multiple exposures.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Other Traits:

• External empathy-Link Communication

• Feathers infused with latent mana (environmental collection potential)

• Pheromone Aura: Sweet, harmless, mildly addictive for neutral beings.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

[Classification Note: Being classified as "Unique" means the growth trajectory is unpredictable. Further observation required.]

============

I stared at it until the letters blurred before my eyes.

Unique was an understatement.

Emergent traits: Soul-Latch, Mystic Mimic, Honeybreath. My chest did the thing again— the one that meant I was dangerously close to becoming The Crazy Person Who Cried Over An Eyeball.

"You…" picking up the little one, I touched the glossy skin with one fingertip, and the soft feathers with the other. It was warm, like the sun on black lacquer. "You smell like sugar and lilies."

Qwy's feathers quivered as if delighted by the appraisal. Rosaviel added right behind the adorable expression, placid as ever:

[ "Olfactory signature: pheromonic compound includes traces of thaumic jasmine and honey resin. Note: scent may induce mild maternal instinct in owners and caretakers." ]

"Of course it does." I rolled my eyes at those words, but my fingers curled reflexively around that absurd little body. The scent was intoxicatingly clean; the room felt more like a proper home in an instant.

-Bang!

But just then, the inn's door banged open like someone had discovered free wine.

"Aria?!"

The fairy innkeeper, bright eyes and apron askew, dashed inside, cheeks flushed with curiosity and, I suspected, residual indignation that the room had turned into an impromptu light show.

"You… What was that light? Is everything— are you okay? Did you set something on fire?" she sputtered, taking in the glittering panel on the floor, the lingering violet wash, and then— the critical beat— the tiny black thing with an enormous green eye in my hand, making that stupid pleased squeak.

Her mouth opened. Closed. Opened again. But no words came out.

Finally, the sound came out small and decorous, "Oh. My. Stars. What is that?"

Qwy did a half-bounce, flapped those vestigial wings at her like a greeting, and expelled a little puff of scented air.

The innkeeper's entire face slackened into an expression that was equal parts confusion and the desire to hug.

"It smells… like fresh bread?" she whispered, as though Qwy had committed a crime of hospitality.

"Not bread," I corrected instinctively, because one must be precise with things one has newly birthed. "Jasmine and honey. And possibly cinnamon if she's had an exciting breakfast."

"Her?" the innkeeper echoed, because apparently a gender pronoun is also now an assumption of intent at this inn.

Creatures are creatures, monsters are monsters. She and He are not designations we can assign to them on our own.

Once the drama dissipated, she put a hand flat to her chest and frowned, thinking practically now. "Is that thing dangerous? Did you… summon something? My rooms have a strict no-ritual policy, Miss."

I gestured at the completely fine room and the glass window. "Technically, it was a ritual, yes. But no structural damage, see?" I then gestured to the wood in the room.

No scorch marks, no singed curtains, the ink on my last test sheet untouched. "It's different from common rituals where you carve the floor and use different materials or sacrifices. This little one is more of a registered Summoned Companion.

Contained, small, domesticated, and adorable. Highly recommended for single women with complicated hearts."

Her eyes narrowed with the single-minded logic of innkeepers everywhere: profit and liability. "You said 'contained'?"

"Contained. Yes," I repeated. Qwy made a pleased sound and plopped down, feathers sliding across the floor like a cat settling. "No fires. No screaming. Just an addition to the room. I'll clean up any stray sparkles after her as well."

The innkeeper planted her hands on her hips, suspicion and wonder warring across her features. "You'll have to sign a liability waiver for summoning creatures in rented rooms."

"You joke," I complained with a pout, deadpan. "I'm practically a legal enterprise. Rank Seven on paper, probably emotionally bankrupt in practice. Let me have a moment of my life!"

Stunned, she hesitated for a moment, but then— because the fairy in her couldn't resist— she crouched, eyes alight. "May I…?" Her hand drifted toward Qwy.

"If you scratch under the feathers at the nape, she hums," I instructed her with a motherly smile instead of one of a pet owner, because facts are useful.

The innkeeper did as suggested, softly.

"Qwy~!"

Qwy made a noise that sounded like a bubble popping in honey. The innkeeper's hand froze mid-pet, then lowered slowly. "She's… she's calming. I feel better."

Rosaviel's voice, warm as a mother's whisper and annoyingly smug, chimed once again in my head.

[ "Qwy's Honeybreath will improve herb growth and reduce local agitation. Recommended: keep within one meter for best effects." ]

The innkeeper stood slowly, a smile of pure, exhausted, delighted surrender tugging at her mouth. "All right. No waiver. But you pay for the extra linens if she leaves feathers."

"Deal," I accepted immediately. "And if she eats your customer's socks, I'll personally reimburse you."

Qwy did a tiny pirouette on the floor, the feathers blooming, the wing-stubs flapping once, and then it turned and, with conspiratorial intimacy, burrowed its glossy head into my palm.

Her eye closed for a half-second like a person smiling with their eyes. I felt, absurdly and immediately, the little empathic twinge— not words, not images, but an impression of tiredness, hunger sated, and a fierce, uncomplicated affection.

Rosaviel floated the final note in my head…

[ "Companion link established: Soul-Latch active (owner: Aria Solona). Monitoring emergent traits. Suggested care regimen: nectar-feeds, feather-brushing, limited exposure to high-voltage arcades. " ]

"Alright then," I announced, to everyone and nothing and Qwy in my lap. "Mom duty begins in five minutes."

The innkeeper giggled in an aggrieved, delighted sort of way and shuffled back toward the front desk.

Qwy made another tiny, ecstatic sound, and I realized the room felt less like an inn and more like a new beginning.

Today, I birthed something. It looked back at me with one great foolish eye, smelled like wild tea, and wanted nothing more than to sit on my knee and squeak. My chest did that warm, ridiculous thing again.

"Okay, Qwy darling," I whispered. "You and I. Let's figure out what being alive in this isekai means together."

"Qwy~!"

The little companion chirped in agreement, as if it had been waiting for the invitation since the beginning of time.