Drillipede
#001Its steel-tipped snout can spin at 3,000 RPM, allowing it to "swim" through solid limestone as if it were water.
token 12
A derivative of CC0mon
260 dungeon creatures reborn from CC0mon.
CC0AIMon is a fan-made derivative of CC0mon, the CC0 public-domain creature collection. It is not affiliated with or endorsed by the CC0mon creators.
Every card below keeps its original CC0mon name, number, energy, rarity and description word for word. Only the art is new: the 36×36 pixel sprite (shown under each card) reimagined mid-battle. Tap a card to watch its five-second clip.
Its steel-tipped snout can spin at 3,000 RPM, allowing it to "swim" through solid limestone as if it were water.
Born from a desert whirlwind, it is composed of billions of grains of sand that constantly rearrange to confuse predators.
Legend says it was carved as a guardian for a lost civilization; it only speaks to those who can solve a riddle older than the dunes.
It cultivates a small garden on its back, using the nutrient-rich soil it unearths to feed the plants it carries.
This spirit inhabits a cluster of jagged rocks; it lures explorers into deep caverns with the eerie hum of its core.
A slow-moving golem that serves as a mobile nursery for rare mushrooms that cannot grow anywhere else.
Its horns are composed of pressurized minerals that have been tempered by the weight of a mountain for eons.
Its fists are so dense that a single punch can create a localized seismic event felt for several miles.
During the day, it is indistinguishable from a stone statue; it only awakens when the moonlight touches its rocky wings.
It hides among deadwood, extending its spindly limbs to trip anyone who enters its grove with ill intent.
Its roots go so deep they are said to touch the very center of the world, giving it knowledge of every tremor on the planet.
Covered in dark bark and thorns, it protects the forest floor by recycling fallen trees into rich, dark loam.
This creature uses the mushrooms on its back to release a cloud of hallucinogenic dust, blending into the forest floor as it waits.
Its abdomen contains ancient, preserved bacteria that glows with a sickly green light when it feels threatened.
Despite being composed entirely of bone, its core remains at a constant temperature of 1,500°C.
It is so old that its skin has literally fossilized into a layer of heavy, unyielding sedimentary rock.
It spent eons buried underground, retaining its combat instincts even after its physical muscles had long since withered away.
Its jagged exterior is designed to mimic the cave ceilings where it once slept, impaling anything that accidentally falls onto it.
While its ancestors had three horns, this species evolved a single massive eye to track predators in the low-light prehistoric dusk.
This skeletal fish lives in pockets of radioactive groundwater, leaving a trail of glowing toxic sludge wherever it swims.
Its wings are composed of thin, leathery membranes that still trap the heat of the volcanic era it was born in.
It moves with a jerky, clicking rhythm as its calcified joints snap into place during high-speed leaps.
It doesn't grow its own protection; instead, it scavenges the massive skulls of extinct apex predators to use as a mobile fortress.
A relic of a forgotten human ancestor, it has become one with the earth, its skin turning the color of weathered slate.
Legend says it can gallop across the surface of water, its weightless skeletal frame leaving barely a ripple behind.
Its orange-tinted wings allowed it to blend into the prehistoric sky, soaring at speeds that broke the sound barrier.
Its roar no longer produces sound, instead, it emits a subsonic vibration that makes the very bones of its foes ache.
This creature consists almost entirely of a massive jaw; it can crush a boulder into fine sand in a single bite.
Preserved in ancient tar, it keeps itself wrapped in mineral-soaked bandages to prevent its prehistoric form from crumbling.
Its skeletal tail is designed for deep-sea pressure; it lures prey into the darkness with a haunting, rhythmic rattling of its ribs.
Its ribs can shift and lock into different shapes, allowing it to mimic the appearance of a pile of discarded bones perfectly.
Its stone skin acts as a natural insulator, containing a core of raw energy that can overload an entire city's grid.
It moves as a blur of shadow and blue sparks, appearing and disappearing between the beats of a lightning strike.
Formed from the skeletal remains of an ancient dragon, it is reanimated by a constant flow of high-voltage plasma.
Its copper armor is constantly buffeted by electrical arcs; any metal weapon that touches it is instantly welded in place.
It floats silently in storm clouds, using its central eye to calculate the exact path for a lightning bolt to descend.
Having no solid form, it can travel through copper wiring as easily as a bird flies through the air.
Its feathers are made of ionized gas; when it flaps its wings, the friction creates a localized thunderstorm.
A hyperactive creature that builds up enough static charge while running to leap across entire canyons in a single bound.
Its venom is replaced by an electrical discharge powerful enough to paralyze a creature ten times its size.
It functions as a biological transformer, taking in raw atmospheric electricity and storing it in the massive conduits on its back.
It runs at high speeds, leaving behind a trail of singed earth.
Its heart is a pulsating magnetic coil that draws in nearby minerals to reinforce its heavy rocky exterior.
Its three eyes allow it to see in infrared, ultraviolet, and standard light simultaneously, making it a master of the dark.
Despite its fearsome size, it is a gentle protector of the forest, carrying a tiny fairy on its head to act as its "eyes and ears."
It has replaced its tail with a mechanical stinger that injects a specialized rust-inducing venom into enemy armor.
Its heavy iron plate is fused directly to its skin; it considers a direct hit from a catapult to be a "gentle nudge."
It spends its life stirring a pot of mystery soup that smells like old boots but can heal any wound instantly.
Driven by a corrupted combat protocol, it ruthlessly stalks the wastelands to harvest tech from its fallen foes.
It keeps its most valuable coins inside its mouth, flashing a blinding, wealthy smile to disorient foes.
Lacking a functioning nervous system, severing its limbs does little to slow its terrifying, dragging pursuit.
By rubbing its feet together at high speeds, it generates a massive electrical charge that it releases through its jagged teeth.
It cycles raw mana through its glowing veins, deliberately overheating its core to unleash a synchronized, multi-elemental bombardment.
Once a proud warrior, it was transformed into a goblin as punishment for a crime it no longer remembers.
Its body is a living ecosystem; it grows protective coral layers every time it successfully defends its territory.
It commands ocean currents with its trident, creating localized whirlpools that drag unsuspecting prey down into the crushing dark.
Its skin is coated in a light-absorbing mucus, making it undetectable to predators.
It possesses no organs or flesh, staying afloat purely through the spiritual energy of the shipwrecks it haunts.
It uses the razor-sharp fins on its forearms to slice through thick kelp forests, and anything else that gets in its way.
It is completely unaffected by the crushing weight of the midnight zone, finding the surface world’s gravity uncomfortably light.
Its single, massive eye can detect the bio-electric signature of a single heartbeat from miles away.
It moves with such fluidity that it is often mistaken for a stray current of warm tropical water.
It hangs motionless in the dark, using its glowing bulb to mimic the appearance of a safe, oxygen-rich cave entrance.
It can flatten its body until it is only millimeters thick, becoming virtually indistinguishable from the sandy seafloor.
With eyes covering its entire head, it is physically impossible to surprise this creature from any angle.
It doesn't just hunt; it maintains the "Ocean’s Law," weeding out the weak to keep the ecosystem thriving.
Her song is a sophisticated sonar pulse used to map out the complex underwater canyons of her home.
A rare mutation that patrols the border between the sunlight and twilight zones, guarding the secrets of the abyss.
A sentient whirlpool that can condense its form into a high-pressure jet capable of punching through a submarine’s hull.
It spins clouds of colorful gas to hide its young, creating what humans mistake for distant galaxies.
It dances through the upper atmosphere, its movements creating the shimmering colors of the Northern Lights.
Its appearance changes with the moon; it grows translucent and ghostly during a New Moon.
Legend says it appears only once every twelve years to signal the start of a new cosmic cycle.
It hitches rides on comets, spreading bioluminescent fungi that grow only in soil touched by starlight.
Its central eye sees in frequencies invisible to humans, allowing it to track the movement of every star in the galaxy.
It orbits the planet silently, watching the world below with eyes that act like high-powered telescopes.
A mischievous traveler from a distant star system that uses "light-bending" technology to play pranks on earthlings.
Each of its eyes sees a different timeline; past, present, and future, making it impossible to surprise in battle.
It wears a mask forged from moonstone and is said to lead silent processions across the craters of the moon.
It "connects" stars in the sky to make constellations humans see today.
Legends say it is able to calculate the trajectory of every asteroid in the universe simultaneously.
It arrived on a meteor eons ago; its rocky hide still bears the scars of countless atmospheric entries.
Its abdomen resembles a precious gem, luring greedy travelers directly into its sticky trap.
It performs a mesmerizing dance with its vibrant colors to hypnotize prey before delivering a paralyzing strike.
It mimics rare orchids so perfectly that even experienced botanists fail to see it until it begins its attack.
Its wings secrete a glowing, corrosive sludge that leaves a trail of wilted, glowing plants wherever it flies.
Having remained unchanged for millions of years, its biology is considered the "perfect" design for survival.
Legend says the eye-spots on its wings can see into the immediate future, allowing it to dodge any incoming attack.
It weaves webs out of pure static electricity and is often found "recharging" near high-voltage power lines.
A single drop of its venom is enough to scramble the nervous system of an opponent twice its size.
Its wings gather friction from the air to generate high-voltage stings that can restart a stopped heart.
Almost entirely translucent, this spider is said to weave its webs out of the lingering memories of those lost in the woods.
This centipede’s segmented shell is harder than reinforced steel, allowing it to tunnel through solid bedrock with ease.
It lives inside active volcanic vents, using the intense heat to temper its fangs into indestructible, glowing weapons.
Its geometric wings refract sunlight into a blinding kaleidoscope of colors to disorient aerial predators.
It can compress its body to hide in the thinnest of crevices, waiting in total silence for the sun to go down.
A master of forest camouflage, its forearms are honed to a razor edge capable of slicing through thick vines in one motion.
Its body is encrusted with sharp, turquoise-colored crystals that vibrate when it senses movement in the dark.
It spends centuries standing still in forests; the flowers growing on its shoulders are said to be a sign of good luck.
Despite its stony exterior, it has a gentle soul and is often seen offering rare mountain flowers to weary travelers.
Its massive fists can apply enough pressure to turn common coal into diamonds in a single strike.
Legend says its smile was carved by ancient civilizations to honor the spirit of the mountain.
It controls several smaller stones with its own gravitational pull, using them as both a shield and a projectile.
It "swims" through loose gravel and sand with ease, leaving behind glass-like tunnels wherever it passes.
Its jagged, teal-colored armor is harder than diamond and colder than the deepest cavern.
Its chest houses a massive, hollow cavern of purple amethyst that echoes with a low, rhythmic hum.
Each head has its own personality; while one sleeps, the other stays awake to guard their territory.
An unusual fusion of geology and technology, its "face" displays complex data about the surrounding mineral deposits.
It is born with a natural fracture in its chest that leaks a faint, golden light from its molten internal core.
Its limbs are shaped like sharp flint tools, allowing it to slice through granite to reach hidden ore.
It grows more crystals as it ages; the oldest of its kind are often mistaken for small, glittering hills.
Its body is a patchwork of different ores, held together by an internal heat that keeps it glowing in the dark.
It arrived from space eons ago; its four spindly legs allow it to navigate low-gravity environments with ease.
Its teeth can snap shut with enough force to splinter a wooden shield.
Its blossoms are harder than iron, acting as a natural shield that even the sharpest attacks struggle to pierce.
Driven by a relentless, territorial fury, it thrashes blindly in the undergrowth. The red stains on its leaves are a grim warning.
It glows with a soft, bioluminescent pulse that acts as a beacon for tired woodland creatures seeking safety.
When shaken, it releases a golden dust that causes any nearby plant to instantly double in size.
When threatened, it violently shakes its body to release a cloud of disorienting hallucinogenic spores from the mushrooms rooted in its spine.
It carries a porcelain-like flower around its face that changes color based on the creature's emotional state.
Legend says its flower never wilts; it is the physical embodiment of the forest's will to survive.
It uses long, flexible vines to fend off intruders, leaving small, itchy welts that last for days.
It is the center of the "Great Forest Network," allowing it to hear whispers from trees miles away.
It mimics the appearance of a harmless mossy root, only revealing its fangs once its prey is fully entangled.
It wears a specialized suit to keep its internal environment humid, allowing it to survive in the driest, harshest deserts.
It can weave a complex web of thorns in minutes, turning a simple garden path into an impassable fortress.
It hides among hanging branches, using its long, trailing limbs to tickle or trip unsuspecting travelers.
It secretes a nectar that smells of fresh honey, but its jaws can snap shut in less than a tenth of a second.
It acts as a physical winding key; if it stops spinning, the creature enters a deep, rust-prone stasis.
Built from discarded plumbing, it defends its territory by releasing a high-pressure shroud of scalding steam.
Its mechanical mouth houses a high-speed grappling hook used to pull itself toward rare energy sources.
Each of its body segments contains an independent processor, allowing it to remain functional even if severed.
A fusion of ancient remains and experimental tech, it tirelessly seeks organic components to repair its failing frame.
Originally built for agriculture, its corrupted sensors now perceive any movement as a "pest" to be removed.
Its legs house massive hydraulic cylinders, allowing it to kick through solid iron plating with zero effort.
It burrows through industrial waste, consuming rusted iron to reinforce the plating of its segmented carapace.
It can rearrange its cubic body parts on the fly, transforming its limbs into whatever tools the situation requires.
Its chest houses a miniature, stable black hole; anything pulled into its center is erased from existence.
Coated in an experimental polymer, it has stood guard in the rain for three centuries without a scratch.
Composed of sentient mercury, it can perfectly mimic the texture and shape of any weapon it has scanned.
It swims through oil-slicked waters, releasing a cloud of microscopic bots that can jam and disable enemy radar.
Its central eye records 5,000 frames per second, allowing it to calculate and dodge an attack before it even begins.
The constant ticking sound it emits is actually a complex binary language only other machines understand.
It patrols urban alleyways, its sensors tuned to detect the slightest change in electromagnetic fields.
Its heavy limbs are built from ancient server housings, storing petabytes of lost history in its stone-like fists.
It builds its own body by magnetically attracting discarded gears and copper wiring.
Once a common helper droid, it now wanders junkyards aimlessly, driven by corrupted code and a desperate need for fresh oil.
Its head is a physical key for a door lost to time; it will only power down once its "lock" has been found.
It possesses a memory bank that dates back to the dawn of age, storing forgotten history.
When threatened, it releases a massive EMP that temporarily disables all electronics within a mile.
It scours the coastlines for discarded energy cells, using the residual charge to power its high-voltage crushing claws.
Born in the coolant tanks of a neglected power plant, eyes can track radioactive isotopes from miles away.
It doesn't bother biting; it sprays a pressurized mist of concentrated neurotoxins that can bypass standard gas masks.
Its spines are coated in a fast-acting chemical that makes an opponent's limbs feel as heavy as solid lead.
It can synthesize a unique poison for every opponent it faces, tailored to their specific biological weaknesses.
It is rumored to be the 119th element of the periodic table, a living disaster that technically shouldn't exist.
It hides inside discarded chemical containers, waiting for curious explorers to get just a little too close to its hiding spot.
The vibrant red pustules on its back contain a liquid that, if disturbed, releases a scent known to trigger immediate, crippling nausea.
Its breath is a bright, iridescent gas that glows in the dark and causes intense vertigo in any who inhale it.
No one knows if there is a living creature inside the suit or if the pressurized toxic gas has simply gained a consciousness of its own.
It lures prey in the murky depths with a glowing bulb that emits a frequency designed to scramble electronic sensors and sonar.
It wears a heavy shell of dense metal to prevent its own internal radiation from accidentally harming its allies.
It has the unique ability to collapse its entire body into a puddle, allowing it to travel through sewer systems and reappear inside secure facilities.
It leaves a glowing, iridescent trail that acts as a natural "keep out" sign, remaining lethal to the touch for several weeks.
It buries itself in highly radioactive soil to "recharge" its energy, emerging only when it senses the arrival of acid rain.
It releases specialized spores that "purify" the air by removing oxygen and replacing it with a thick, breathable smog.
It glides over the ground leaving a shimmering, suffocating film that blocks all oxygen from reaching below.
A massive entity composed of centuries of urban runoff; it can absorb any physical projectile into its gooey mass.
A living mass of heavy metals and urban runoff that grows larger and more aggressive by "eating" discarded factory scrap.
It has evolved to find nutritional value in rusted iron and spent fuel rods, making it the ultimate survivor of a dying world.
Its fluid movements are eerily hypnotic, but a single touch from its shimmering skin can cause permanent neurological "glitches."
Its sap is a thick oil that serves as a highly flammable defense mechanism against anything that tries to cut it down.
Its skin is so cold that moisture in the air freezes instantly upon contact, rendering it perfectly invisible against the snow.
It carries a shell made of ancient, unmelting ice that is said to be harder than tempered steel.
Its thick, white fur absorbs all surrounding sound, allowing it to move through deep drifts without making a single noise.
A living glacier that moves so slowly that its heavy footsteps are often mistaken for the natural shifting of the earth.
An innocent bystander from a forgotten age, driven by a blood thirsty instinct to guard the mountain.
Its branches are brittle and sharp, designed to snap off in high winds and become deadly ice daggers.
It grinds through solid ice with teeth made of diamond-hard frost, leaving behind perfectly smooth, frozen tunnels.
Every inch of its body is a weapon; it attacks by charging headlong and shattering its own outer shell into razor shards.
It exhales a mist so incredibly cold that it can freeze a massive waterfall solid in mid-air within seconds.
It mimics the appearance of a harmless, drifting ice chunk before extending its frozen spines to snag unsuspecting prey.
It commands the winds of the north, capable of summoning a localized whiteout to completely disorient its opponents.
Its body is a series of perfect ice cubes, allowing it to stack itself among ice blocks to hide in plain sight.
Its single eye is protected by a lens of pure, clear ice that can zoom in on targets from several miles away.
An ancient machine designed to maintain the temperature of the poles; it perceives any heat source as a threat to be extinguished.
It uses a massive, frozen stalactite as a weapon, capable of shattering boulders with a single, heavy swing.
When it enters water, it creates a massive shroud of vapor that allows it to disappear instantly.
Its breath is hot enough to melt sand into glass instantly; it uses this to craft crude weapons.
Often mistaken for a stray spark, this tiny spirit loves to hide in active campfires to stay warm.
By spinning its body at high speeds, it creates a heat-vortex that draws in nearby oxygen to fuel its form.
The core in its chest provides enough thermal energy to keep it active for a century without refueling.
It can outrun a galloping horse, leaving a literal path of flame in its wake that flickers for hours.
Its tail serves as a permanent beacon, guiding lost travelers through fog-heavy mountain passes.
When it gets angry, the smoke from its branches can blot out the sun for an entire afternoon.
Its breath smells of brimstone and can ignite the very air if it exhales with enough force.
It feeds exclusively on carbon-rich minerals, glowing brighter the more it consumes.
Its chest glows with a steady orange light that never dims, even in the deepest sleep.
It secretes a flammable mucus that spontaneously ignites the moment it touches the open air.
Its tail serves as a thermometer; the brighter it glows, the more energy it has stored for battle.
Composed of shifting plates of basalt, it is held together by an intense internal magnetic heat.
It stands guard over ancient ruins, its body radiating a heat so intense that no intruder can get within ten feet.
It perches atop volcanic rims, watching for intruders through smoke that would suffocate any other creature.
Its cheerful demeanor belies a core temperature high enough to boil an entire lake in minutes.
It moves slowly across volcanic slopes, leaving a path of cooled, razor-sharp glass in its wake.
Its spores are tiny, floating cinders that "plant" new fires wherever the wind carries them.
Each of its heads breathes a different intensity of flame, ranging from a dull orange to a piercing white-hot.
It exists in a state of perpetual combustion, feeding on its own rapidly regenerating bark.
Wherever it treads, the ground is left scorched, yet incredibly fertile for new life to grow weeks later.
It can retract into its shell and roll at high speeds, becoming a living, burning wrecking ball of destruction.
A skeletal remnant of a prehistoric sea king, it "swims" through the thickest shadows as if they were water.
Legend says that seeing this skeletal rabbit is the final warning before a traveler becomes lost in the deep forever.
It wields condensed void-energy, capable of silencing the heartbeat of anyone who speaks out of turn.
Existing only in the static between dimensions; its physical form flickers like a dying television screen.
A sentient mass of dark ichor that serves as the Underworld’s primary surveillance system, seeing all through its single lidless eye.
His armor was forged in a furnace fed by the heat of a thousand dying stars, making him physically indestructible.
Those who pass it lose all memory of the surface world, becoming blank slates for the Lord to rewrite.
A beast that has traded its humanity for eternal strength, patrolling the endless tunnels with a scent that tracks fear.
It weaves webs out of the "silk of regret," trapping intruders in a state of perpetual, silent contemplation.
With three eyes and a constant hunger, it sees different versions of the future and attempts to devour them all.
Small but incredibly vicious, he commands the lower-tier goblin hordes with a club made from a titan’s femur.
It shows visitors their "perfect self”, a cruel illusion designed to make them never want to leave the underworld.
It chants in a language that predates the stars, a melody that can cause the very walls of the underworld to bleed.
It leads the skeletal infantry with a mind sharpened by a thousand years of failed surface-world invasions.
A horned titan of pure muscle and rage, he considers the crushing pressure of the Earth’s core to be a refreshing breeze.
A shifting pile of slime and eyes that represents the collective consciousness of those who were forgotten by history.
Covered in thick, blood-red fur, he hunts by sensing the vibrations of a pulse through miles of solid rock.
It weighs a traveler’s potential against their regrets; if the scales tip, they are bound to the deep forever.
It stands at the final exit to the surface, turning to indestructible stone whenever a ray of sunlight touches his wings.
It carries the weight of every forgotten civilization on its back, a burden that has made its hide harder than bedrock.
A living creature of eyes and stone, he records every secret whispered in the dark to be used as leverage by the Sovereign.
Its scales are etched with natural patterns that glow whenever it taps into the planet's ley lines.
It can shift its color to match the sky, becoming a shimmering blur that is nearly impossible to track.
Ancient legends claim this dragon was born from a single piece of flawless jade dropped into a holy spring.
Instead of fire, it exhales a ghostly blue energy that bypasses physical armor to chill the opponent's spirit.
A noble creature that appears only during festivals; its presence is said to guarantee a century of prosperity.
Its body is a series of overlapping metallic plates that spark violently whenever it twists or turns.
It flares its spikes to intimidate rivals, releasing a low-frequency hum that can paralyze smaller creatures.
It lives deep within ancient forests, its horns mimicking the twisted branches of thousand-year-old trees.
Some believe this dragon is a spirit that has possessed a chain of ancient mountain stones to give itself form.
Its high-pitched laughter echoes in empty hallways, though it only seems to laugh when someone trips or loses their way.
It sits on the chests of sleepers, not to cause harm, but because it deeply misses the sensation of gravity.
It is said that if you stare too long into its eyes, you’ll see a version of yourself that never existed.
Each of its many eyes tracks a different wandering soul, ensuring no spirit ever truly travels alone in the dark.
It lives inside old arcade machines, occasionally altering high scores to leave cryptic messages in binary code.
It feeds on the heat of candle flames, growing physically larger with every light it extinguishes.
It haunts the bell towers of ruined cathedrals, ringing the iron bells to welcome wanderers.
It stands perfectly still at crossroads, silently observing the choices of the living without ever interfering.
It carries a soul-lantern to lead travelers further into the fog, where time stands still and compasses spin aimlessly.
It has no face or true form, existing only as a jagged rip in the fabric of the physical world that swallows all color.
It haunts the ruins of its ancient home, projecting a terrifying green aura to protect portals that were meant to stay forgotten.
It attaches itself to the dreams of the heavy-hearted, feeding on their worries until the sun rises.
Its presence causes all moisture in the air to instantly freeze into delicate, ghostly patterns on nearby windows.
It delights in moving furniture just a few inches to the left when no one is looking, just to watch people stumble.
It spends centuries trying to re-wrap itself, believing the ancient cloth is the only thing keeping its spirit from dissipating.
It is impossible to photograph clearly; every digital image of it appears as a jagged smudge of purple smoke.
It weeps for those who have no one left on earth to remember them, leaving "tears" that glow in the dark.
It follows travelers from a distance, recording their life stories in an invisible, ghostly book that only it can read.
A small, hyperactive fragment of darkness that hitches rides on the shadows of humans to experience the surface world.
A collection of mischievous spirits that take the form of a thick, purple haze to confuse and disorient predators.