You, O Mouse of Blue, found a cylindrical structure sunk hundreds of feet deep, where moss and fungi had grown in splendid isolation for ages, such that fungal creatures crept amid it all, relying wholly on scent and taste to guide themselves, all of it descended from a singular robotic construct, long defunct, which had bled oils and stranger chemicals onto their ancestors, causing them to mutate and evolve. Nearly everything in that space had immense thaumaturgic potential, and you made it a life's goal to study and understand it, as much as you could, eventually founding an arcane academy devoted to fungimantic principles.
