[Connecting with the Spiritual Body]
[...]
[Successful connection with low-ranking spiritual entity]
[Connecting with the Astral Body]
[...]
[Successful connection]
Death was nothing like he had imagined. There was no man in white robes radiating divinity, no angels, and no sultry demonesses welcoming him. Nor was there an absolute vacuum or anything he could tie to a religious reference.
[Connecting with the Soul]
[Successful connection]
[...]
[Connecting with the Consciousness]
[Error]
Being dead was, simply put, like a lucid dream building itself around him. Things made a modicum of sense: water fell if he spilled it, the sky was blue, and textures existed. Yet, the more complex details failed miserably. Water, or anything capable of reflecting light, did not work correctly; it warped into a distorted image of whatever he was thinking at that exact moment. Complex objects functioned only when he was nearby, and only if a fraction of his attention remained anchored to them.
[...]
[Failed to connect]
[Calculating]
[...][...][…]
He would have liked to say there were other people around, but he was utterly alone. If others existed, they would need to possess their own thoughts, motivations, memories, and an internal logic entirely independent of his own. Just imagining such a thing felt absurd. Fortunately, small animals were a different story. Birds, insects, and simple creatures manifested here and there like background scenery. They didn't seem to possess actual minds, limiting themselves to mimicking the behaviors expected of them, like NPCs from a half-finished video game.
[…]
[Calculation concluded]
[Critical energy shortage in low-ranking spiritual entity]
[Constant loss of ego]
[Searching for Protocol]
[…]
One might think that, since this was his own world, he would exercise absolute control over it. Technically, that was true. If he wanted a red sky, the sky turned red. If he wanted gravity to vanish, it vanished. The problem was that the environment did not obey his conscious will; instead, it responded to everything swirling beneath it.
Getting distracted for even an instant was enough for things to revert to the form his mind deemed "correct." The sky would turn blue again. Water fell downward. Stones regained their weight. Maintaining a lie was simple; forcing reality to remember it proved to be far more exhausting.
After all, the human mind was never designed to actively sustain every detail of a world where thoughts became tangible facts.
[…]
[Protocol found]
[…]
[Searching for skills]
[…]
[Skills found]
[Analyst]
[Mental Mirage]
[…]
[Critical energy shortage in low-ranking spiritual entity]
[…]
So, he contented himself with enjoying what could very well be eternity, finding a semblance of peace beneath the shade of the trees, cradled by a canopy of roots. Above, a false sun hung suspended in a perpetual state between day and night, shifting only as his own mood dictated.
Lying beneath the trees, he gazed at the false sky with resignation. This was no paradise; it was an eternal prison of lies and madness that defied his understanding. He knew there was nothing he could do to escape, nor was there a way to bring this to an end. He had already tried so many times that he had lost count. How long had he even been here? For all he knew, seconds or millennia could have passed, given that his only frame of reference was unconsciously governed by his own mind.
He wished he could simply have control.
[…]
[Response detected]
[…]
[Attempting skill evolution]
[…]
He sighed to himself as his gaze lost its focus. He had no idea how much time was slipping by. He couldn't even allow himself to "sleep" because this state was already a dream. Yet, escape was equally impossible. He could only "enjoy" the bars of his golden cage. Still, that yearning for control remained, acting like a seed forcing its way through the cracks of marble, anchoring roots so deep and visible that he could no longer ignore the true desire of his heart.
[...][...][…]
[Skill evolution successful]
[…]
[Analyst] → [Great Analyst]
[Mental Mirage] → [False World]
[Critical energy shortage in low-ranking spiritual entity]
[...][...][…]
Then, something shifted in his perception of the world. It wasn't the landscape.
Nothing physically altered what was already there; rather, he felt a massive weight lift from his being, a burden he hadn't even realized he was carrying. It was as if he no longer had to force the world to hold itself together through sheer willpower.
Until that moment, things had behaved correctly only because a part of his mind was constantly watching them.
Not anymore.
The wind rustled the leaves so organically that it felt like genuine cause and effect. Shadows cast themselves perfectly according to geometric expectations, replacing the crude, painting-like imitations from before. The sensation of the grass beneath his fingers remained faint, even artificial, but for the first time, it possessed a consistency that didn't vanish the moment he looked away.
It felt as though a massive portion of the workload had been lifted from his shoulders. However, the connection remained intact.
He could still feel the world responding to his will. The difference was that it no longer felt like a falsehood sustained by pure effort. For the first time, that sense of control was taking root in something tangible.
He plucked a blade of grass while thinking of an apple. Before, that mere thought would have been enough to transmute the object at a fundamental level. This time, nothing happened. Only when he consciously forced the change did it occur. It felt as though something at the fringes of his perception reordered itself to match his thoughts. The sensation was strangely comforting as he slowly savored the juices of the apple.
Even when he stopped paying attention to it, the apple did not vanish or revert. Nor did the plucked blade of grass mend itself. Everything remained exactly as it was, behaving like a more flexible, yet entirely consistent, imitation of the physical laws of the world he once knew.
[…]
[Skill Acquired]
[Magicule Manipulation]
[Critical energy shortage in low-ranking spiritual entity]
[…]
He could feel that strange presence growing clearer.
It wasn't a voice.
It wasn't words.
It was understanding.
An understanding of the energy that comprised this world. An understanding of how to mold it. An understanding of how something false could edge so close to reality that the difference ceased to matter.
[…]
He remained in silence, raising a hand to command the sun to rise to its zenith.
A twisted smile tugged at his lips.
It was a bizarre surge of happiness, comparable only to being suddenly told you have beaten cancer just after you had fully accepted your impending death. He let out a breathless, silly laugh, like the madman he was, lifting a hand to half-shield his eyes from the sunlight, reaching out as if to touch it in the distant sky.
When he lowered his hand, he felt something cold tracing a path down his face. Tears.
He couldn't remember the last time he had cried.
For the first time in all of eternity, he finally allowed himself to. They were tears of joy mixed with a sorrow that had no real meaning, the kind of emotion a child might cry over without fully understanding why. He simply accepted it, wiping them away after a long moment.
[…]
[Loss of ego halted]
[Critical energy shortage in low-ranking spiritual entity]
[…]
He stared at his wet hands for a long time, as if unsure how to react to his own actions. He was so consumed by his emotions that he almost missed a strange new sensation: the seams of the world.
At first, it was a barely perceptible feeling. Then, an intuition. Finally, an absolute certainty. Everything around him was held together by an invisible structure.
[…]
[Skill Acquired]
[Mana Perception]
[Critical energy shortage in low-ranking spiritual entity]
[…]
Currents. Nodes. Flows. Thoughts. Energy.
The entire realm was threaded by an immense network of power that had remained hidden from him until now, yet it was completely manipulable in every sense of the word.
[...]
[Low-ranking spiritual entity unable to maintain long-term stability]
[...]
[Searching for survival method]
[...]
[Protocol found]
[...]
[Evaluating racial evolution]
[...]
[Calculating compatibility]
[...]
[Conditions met]
[...]
It was an uncanny sensation.
The euphoria that had been building inside him ever since he regained a fraction of control over his existence vanished in an instant. It was as if fate, reality, or some particularly cruel deity had decided to remind him of a very simple fact.
He was still dying.
[…]
[Initiating energy accumulation protocol]
[…]
[Initiating cessation of non-vital activities]
[…]
He felt the world around him begin to fracture.
It wasn't a violent destruction, but rather pure exhaustion, like a sandcastle unable to support its own weight any longer.
However, the energy bleeding from the environment did not dissipate. It gathered slowly around him, swirling in a vortex like petals enclosing a bud.
Black.
Pitch black.
And strangely warm.
With every new layer that formed, a profound sense of comfort spread through his being. It was a silent invitation to rest, to finally stop resisting.
He wanted to stand.
He wanted to scream.
He wanted to do anything at all.
But he lacked the strength.
He could only watch as the world drifted away, his consciousness sinking into the comforting dark.
[1%]
[…]
[…]
[…]
[…]
[…]
[…]
[…]
[…]
[99%]
[100%]
[…]
[Process completed]
[…]
[Compatibility with spiritual life form found]
[…]
[Lesser Daemon Vine]
[Specialized demonic spiritual life form]
[…]
[Attempting evolution]
[…][…][…][…][…][…][…][…][…][…][…][…][…][…][…][…]
[…]
[Evolution successful]
[…]
[Acquiring intrinsic skills]
[…]
[Magic Resistance]
[Material Creation]
[Possess][Blightseed]
[…]
[Acquiring unique skill]
[…]
[Shadow Harvest]
[...]
For a moment, nothing happened, or so he thought.
He didn't open his eyes. He didn't move. He didn't breathe.
The exhaustion was receding slowly, like sand slipping through fingers. That constant feeling of dissolving weakened bit by bit until it vanished entirely. For the first time since he could remember, he simply existed.
He no longer felt parts of himself eroding away, nor did he feel that relentless pressure devouring his identity. He was just there, existing as a strange manifestation of something new.
The sensation was so comfortable that he felt he could remain in this state forever. He could sleep for centuries, wake whenever he pleased, close his eyes again, and continue resting.
Yet, a lingering desire remained, the very thing that had driven him to this point.
"To keep moving forward."
So, he opened his eyes. The first thing he encountered was darkness.
It wasn't an absolute void, but rather like being submerged in a pool of semi-crystalline water. Dispersed currents of energy drifted around him in a slow vortex, while beyond it, nothingness existed not merely as a concept, but as an undeniable truth.
Almost by instinct, he understood that the feverish dreamworld from before had vanished almost entirely. What had once been imaginary forests, skies, earth, and oceans was now nothing more than a handful of [Magicules] fluttering around him.
[Magicules]. The word lingered on the tip of his tongue like a fresh piece of data, one he already recognized from that story.
Before he could overthink it, instinct took over.
The nearby magicules began to shift, coalescing around him, but no longer as scattered energy. They intertwined, weaving spiritual matter where nothing had existed seconds before.
Walls, a floor, and a ceiling materialized rapidly, crafted from a material resembling irregularly cut stone overgrown with moss, as if the structure had been claimed by nature long ago. It was an empty room of modest proportions, just large enough to accommodate his form without much trouble, a simple creation that required barely any energy to maintain. He could likely remain here for centuries if he so desired.
There was nothing complex about its design or properties, just a stable space where he could think for a moment, and that was more than enough.
As the final currents of energy settled into place, a single object materialized.
An oval mirror, framed directly into the wall, held fast by thick, snake-like vines.
Adrián studied his reflection for a few seconds, waiting to discover what he had become. Though his mind was still a bit muddled by the sequence of events, on some level, he already knew what he was.
It wasn't just because of his appearance, but because of something deeper, an innate piece of knowledge that any entity of his classification was supposed to possess.
"Daemon."
That was his race. More specifically, he was of the [Lesser] rank and the [Vine] subtype.
He stood nearly three meters tall. He had to tilt his head slightly just to view his entire reflection in the glass.
His body retained a humanoid silhouette, but any resemblance to a normal human ended there. The musculature of his torso and limbs looked as though it had been sculpted directly from stone, hyper-defined without appearing unnatural, as if the form had been engineered to represent raw power rather than biology.
His skin bore a pale, whitish-violet hue that contrasted sharply with the darker tones of the rest of his body, making it clear at a single glance that he no longer belonged to mankind.
He raised a hand to his face.
His hands were massive. From his fingertips to a good portion of his forearms, structures resembling overlapping leaves encased his skin, forming a sort of natural, botanical armor. The same pattern wrapped his legs and feet, shielding them in dark green layers that vaguely recalled hardened feathers or petals.
He flexed his fingers. They moved precisely as intended.
From his back extended a pair of disproportionately large, membranous wings. They were a green so deep it bordered on black, unfurling behind him like a living shadow. He tried to close them, and the wings obeyed instantly, folding neatly against his back. He snapped them open again a second later. The movement was so natural it was almost unsettling how intuitive it felt.
A long, flexible tail extended from the base of his spine. Its shape resembled a tentacle more than a conventional tail, sporting a dark green surface with a row of luminescent violet suckers running along the underside.
The tip twitched on its own.
No. He had moved it. It took him a moment to realize he was controlling it in the exact same manner he would control an arm.
His black hair fell past his shoulders with subtle greenish highlights. The strands partially shrouded his face, obscuring bizarre eyes where multiple goat-like pupils floated over irises of crystalline green and violet.
He brushed the hair aside, and that was where he truly paused.
It was the eyes.
For several seconds, he stared at them. The multiple pupils contracted over one another, forming impossible patterns that served as a stark reminder that this was no longer a human face.
They were monstrous. Unmistakably monstrous.
And yet, he felt no revulsion.
His ears tapered into sharp points, reminiscent of high-fantasy creatures. Atop his head sat two jet-black horns curving upward like giant fangs, crowning his entire silhouette. As for attire, his only garment was a pair of dark trousers secured by a thick, flattened vine acting as a belt.
He stood, observing himself in silence.
One of his ears twitched slightly. Then the other.
He blinked. The multiple pupils of his eyes contracted and expanded independently for a fraction of a second before stabilizing. A strange sensation rippled down his spine as his wings finished folding behind him, almost of their own accord. His tail swayed slowly from side to side. He saw it in the mirror, only then realizing it had been moving like that for several seconds.
The observation lingered only briefly. He felt no rejection toward his new form, but no fascination either; it simply felt right to him. He accepted it almost immediately and moved on.
The observation lingered only briefly.
He accepted it almost immediately and moved on.
His mind was too busy at the moment to feed his own ego.
Information flowed continuously through his consciousness. These weren't memories, not exactly. It was something far more complex: understanding.
An intrinsic comprehension of the energy composing his body, of Magicules, of his nature as a Daemon, and of the way this space existed.
An understanding of himself.
Thousands of minor conclusions flashed and faded as his [Great Analyst] skill, which he now knew he possessed, organized the avalanche of data into something coherent. He knew things he had never formally learned, in ways that bypassed words or thoughts. It was deeper, instinctive, though it lacked the biological components of true instinct. It was strange to ponder, yet he understood it perfectly.
It was a sensation difficult to put into words.
Then, a voice filled the void, one he recognized instantly: The Voice of the World.
[...]
[Survival Assured]
[...]
[Searching for compatible world]
[...][...][...][...]
[Compatible world found]
[...]
[Error][Error][Error][Error][Error][Error][Error][Error][Error][Error][Error][Error][Error][Error][Error][Error][Error][Error][Error][Error][Error][Error][Error][Error][Error][Error][Error][Error][Error][Error][Error][Error][Error][Error][Error][Error][Error][Error][Error][Error][Error][Error][Error][Error][Error][Error][Error][Error][Error][Error][Error][Error][Error][Error][Error][Error][Error][Error][Error][Error][Error][Error][Error][Error][Error][Error][Error]
The influx of information ground to a halt.
Adrián froze.
That last line did not sound promising in the slightest.
He looked around out of pure reflex, though he knew it was pointless. The voice didn't originate from any physical direction; it existed beyond that, audible only because it was projecting its intent directly into his [Soul].
And what he had just heard was enough to make him incredibly nervous.
If his memories served him right, this very voice was responsible for his evolution, his skills, and perhaps even his existence itself. The Voice of the World itself wasn't what triggered his fear, but rather two major realisations: the sheer implications of him hearing it, and the fact that it was throwing out the word [Error] like a malfunctioning piece of software.
[Error]
[Transferring to compatible World]
[Error]
[Halting process]
[Error]
His heart would have skipped a beat, had he still possessed one. The words echoed in his mind. He didn't need anyone to explain why this was deeply alarming.
His knowledge of Tensura, combined with his new understanding as a spiritual being, told him that the Voice of the World did not make mistakes on a whim, let alone error out so flagrantly. When something bypassed normal system procedures, the consequences were rarely pleasant.
[Error]
[Applying emergency protocol]
[Error]
"Wait, just a second..." The protest died before he could finish it.
The world vanished. It didn't collapse or explode; it simply ceased to exist from one moment to the next. The moss-covered walls disintegrated into currents of Magicules like glass fed into an industrial shredder. The mirror vanished in the same abrupt fashion, along with the floor beneath his feet.
Even the darkness beyond the room dissolved, or rather, he could no longer perceive it, because his entire reality was replaced by an ocean of blinding light.
Millions of impossible colors flared simultaneously amid currents of energy that sliced through dimensions his mind lacked the time to comprehend, let alone catalog. His own body began to unravel into the torrent like ink bleeding into the sea. He felt no physical pain, but rather something far worse.
It felt as though every facet of his existence was being stretched, compressed, torn apart, and reorganized all at once. It was as if someone had taken his soul and forced it through an impossibly narrow aperture.
He tried to anchor himself to anything—a thought, a memory, his own sense of self.
But everything drifted away.
The light consumed him entirely.
As his consciousness flickered out, he managed to keep only a single thought afloat amid the primordial chaos.
Of course it couldn't be that easy...
After that, there was only darkness, reclaiming its stillness as if absolutely nothing had ever happened.