The last thing Takumi saw was Akashi's horrified face rushing toward him.
The last thing he heard was:
"Give me back the cube, meoooow!!"
Then the world snapped to black.
He expected unconsciousness to be the usual void.
Instead, he woke in a place that wasn't a place.
He stood in an endless dark ocean, lit only by three lights:
A distant black sun pulsing slowly: Finality.
A lattice of glowing lines and circles forming a crown: Domination.
And now, in front of him, a spinning blue cube, shedding ripples of geometric light.
The Wisdom Cube.
It hovered just out of reach, yet he could feel it inside his chest.
[Alert: Foreign World-Energy System Detected.]
[Name: Wisdom Cube Core Protocol.]
[Status: Forcefully bonded to Host.]
[Compatibility: 99.7% (Compensation Trait – "Universal Energy Adaptation").]
"…So that bug-compensation wasn't just flavor text," Takumi muttered.
The blue cube hummed, vibrating in a way that felt like a heartbeat.
Not human.
A civilization's heartbeat.
World-data shimmered behind it: silhouettes of ships, nautical maps, combat logs, resource spreadsheets, emotional imprints of shipgirls singing in the harbor at night.
The Dimensional Civilization System joined in:
[Offer: Integrate Wisdom Cube Protocol into Host Civilization Tech Tree?]
[Effects:
• Unlock "Energetic Cognition Materialization" as foundational tech.
• Allow replication of derivative Cubes (weakened) using Host resources + Authority interface.
• Enable safe interfacing between shipgirl systems and Host Authorities.]
Takumi stared at the prompts.
"…You're telling me I can learn how to do Wisdom Cubes now?"
[Affirmative.]
[Note: Direct duplication of Azur Lane's exact tech is impossible. Host will gain a parallel, compatible system, not a one-to-one copy.]
The black sun of Finality flared faintly, as if irritated at this new loud blue neighbor.
The blue cube responded by pulsing more brightly, projecting schematics that clashed gently with Finality's conceptual gravity.
For a heartbeat, reality glitched.
The cube tried to manifest infinite energy and cognition from nothing.
Finality whispered: all things end.
Domination stepped between them like a stern parent.
A crown of golden lines snapped into place over the cube, forming a containment mesh.
[Domination: Creating Subsystem – "Wisdom Core Sandbox."]
[Finality: Bound by rule – "No Absolute End permitted within Sandbox."]
Takumi exhaled slowly, feeling his own heartbeat synchronize with the pulsing cube.
"Okay," he said. "Ground rules. No rewriting shipgirls. No turning Wisdom Cubes into brainwashing devices. We use this for:
Infrastructure,
Support systems,
And making sure people don't die pointless deaths."
The black sun quieted.
The cube dimmed into a stable glow.
The system chimed:
[Integration Confirmed.]
[New Civilization Trait Acquired: Wisdom-Adapted Authority Nexus.]
[New Personal Skill: Flagship Interface (Prototype) – You can temporarily manifest a rigging-style combat frame or support system using Authority + Wisdom energy.]
"Rigging…?" Takumi muttered. "Wait, wait, does that mean—"
The not-place rippled.
For a second, he saw himself not as a man, but as a shipghost: armor, cannons, glowing arrays of symbols swirling at his back. No hull, just a humanoid rigging—an abstract flagship of something that didn't exist yet.
The Dark Fleet, a quiet voice in his mind suggested.
He slapped that thought down.
"Not dark. Just… mine," he said.
The vision shattered into light.
Consciousness slammed back into his body.
"—ow."
He was lying on something soft. His head hurt like he'd tried to headbutt a particle accelerator, and his limbs tingled with excess energy.
The lab's harsh lighting slowly came into focus.
Takumi blinked.
Belfast was kneeling beside him, hand hovering over his forehead, worry only barely contained in her eyes.
Richelieu stood a few steps back, spear firmly in hand, rigging half-materialized, like she expected trouble.
Akashi was on his chest like an angry cat, tiny hands clutching his collar.
"Give it back, meow!!" she wailed. "Do you know how hard it was to make that cube? That was the last one! The laaaast one!"
"A-Akashi…" Takumi croaked. "Personal space… oxygen… both very good things…"
Belfast calmly hooked an arm around Akashi's ribs and pulled her off.
"Miss Akashi," she said mildly. "You are suffocating our guest."
"Guest who ate our top secret super item!" Akashi protested, flailing. "He stole it with his bare hands! That's not how research works, meow!"
Takumi pushed himself up with Belfast's help and sat on the lab bed someone had dragged in.
"I didn't mean to," he said. "It reacted on its own. And technically, I didn't 'eat' it. It… integrated."
He looked down at his palm.
A faint blue sigil now glowed there: a cube formed by intersecting lines, like a stylized ship emblem, overlaying the subtle, circular mark of Finality.
Richelieu's eyes sharpened. "What did you do?"
"The better question," Takumi said, "is what it did to me."
System notifications had already been quietly summarizing themselves in the corner of his vision.
[Wisdom Protocol integrated.]
[No hostile takeover detected.]
[Host can now:
– Perceive Wisdom Cube energy signatures.
– Create limited "Support Cubes" using storage resources + Authority.
– Interface directly with shipgirl rigging as if it were native.]
He decided not to tell Akashi about that last part yet.
"From my side," he said aloud, "your cube recognized me as compatible. It fused instead of exploding my soul, which I appreciate. Now I can understand your tech on a… deeper level."
Akashi stared at him.
Then at his glowing hand.
Then at the now-empty safe.
Her ears drooped. "So… it chose you?"
"Looks that way," he said.
Belfast exhaled softly. "I had feared much worse. Your condition?"
"Overloaded, but stable," Takumi said. "Think 'drank five energy drinks and a star' feeling. It'll settle."
Richelieu's gaze was still suspicious, but calmer. "Can you replicate the effect? You mentioned you could bring technology from other worlds. If you can create more Wisdom Cubes…"
Takumi hesitated.
In his mindscape, the black sun of Finality nudged the blue cube. He could end the limitations on production. Create infinite, perfect cubes. Remove constraints entirely.
Then he imagined an infinite number of shipgirls, manipulated by a single will.
No.
"Weak ones," he said. "Support units. I can't and won't make true Wisdom Cubes like yours. That's your civilization's crown jewel. I can, however"—he opened his palm—"do this."
Domination flared gently.
Infinite Storage supplied raw material like a whisper.
A small, translucent shard formed over his hand—a miniaturized cube fragment, no bigger than a matchbox.
It pulsed faintly with blue light.
Akashi's ears shot straight up.
"Prototype Support Cube," Takumi explained. "Not enough to birth a person. Enough to power devices, reinforce barriers, maybe help Bulins run construction rigs without burning out. They're keyed to my Authority so they can't be repurposed into anything… shady."
Akashi scooped it up, eyes enormous.
"Th-this energy signature… it's like a Wisdom Cube, meow, but… different. Sideways. Who are you, really?!"
Richelieu exhaled, the tension in her shoulders finally easing a fraction.
"Then your world gains power," she said, "and ours gains a new path forward. That is acceptable."
"Acceptable? It's amazing, meow!" Akashi whirled on Takumi. "You're not allowed to leave until I run every test possible, meow! I need to know how you did this, meow! For science! And for profit!"
Takumi winced as she latched onto his sleeve again.
In the corner of his vision, the Chat Group interface pinged.
[Private Chat – HQ]
Rimuru: I felt a spike. You good?
Rin: Giant unknown energy just interfaced with your Authority. Explain.
Misaka: Did you blow yourself up??
Kazuma: If you died in another world, do we get compensation points?
Ruri: The Dark Flagship has awakened, hasn't he? Fufufu…
Miori: I detected a new subsystem aligning with Finality. I would like samples.
Takumi sighed and sent a status ping:
Takumi: I'm fine. Accidentally consumed a world's last Wisdom Cube. Now partially ship-powered. Will explain when I'm back.
Kazuma replied instantly:
Kazuma: PARTIALLY WHAT?! Are you a battleship now?? Do you have cannons?! Do they recoil?! Can I borrow them??
He closed the chat before it could get worse.
"Akashi," he said aloud. "You can run some non-invasive tests. But I'll need to get back soon. Time dilation means my people are waiting."
Akashi's eyes gleamed with the ruthless light of a scientist/shopkeeper hybrid.
"Deal, meow! I will study you thoroughly, meow!"
Richelieu rubbed her temples. "I regret showing you the lab already."
They compromised.
Akashi got to run her scanners over him—X-ray-like beams, energy detectors, holographic mapping. Every device she used, his newly integrated system quietly mirrored and logged. He could understand the readouts in a way he wouldn't have before.
"Your body's weird, meow," she announced finally, flipping through results. "Your energy channels look like they were meant to plug into anything. It's like looking at a universal adapter, meow."
"That tracks," Takumi said dryly.
Belfast stepped forward. "There is one more thing I wish to confirm. Has this acquisition changed your… intentions?"
He knew what she meant.
Power corrupted. This was power.
"Honestly?" he said. "It made the temptation worse. With Authority + Wisdom, I could brute-force my way across a lot of problems."
He looked at his hand again, at the overlapping sigils of End and Cube.
"But it also reminded me of something important: your cube chose to bond instead of blow up. It trusted me to carry your civilization's spark. I'm not going to insult that by becoming a discount Siren."
Richelieu's eyes softened just a little.
"That," she said, "is good enough for now."
By the time he left Azur Lane, the contract was signed, Support Cube prototypes were stored in his Infinite Dimensional Storage, and the first vanguard list was finalized.
Four shipgirls. Fifty Bulins. A herd of Manjuus.
A seed of a civilization.
Takumi returned to his world through the portal, the harbor fading into blue light.
He emerged in the Strategy Hall.
To him, it had been days.
To the HQ, maybe twenty minutes.
The moment he stepped out of the closing vortex, the doors hissed open and his chat group poured in.
Misaka led the charge, sparks jumping off her hair.
"You absorbed a magic sci-fi cube and didn't think to tell us first?!" she demanded.
"It was kind of involuntary," Takumi protested. "Also, hi. I missed you too."
She stopped, flustered. "Th-that's not— you can't just say stuff like that to skirt the issue!"
Rimuru slid in behind her, eyes bright. "Turn around. Let me see."
Takumi obliged.
Rimuru squinted, seeing more than human senses allowed. "Amazing. The Wisdom Protocol is sitting on top of your core like an auxiliary brain. And Domination wrapped it in a sandbox? That's clever."
"Instinctive survival," Takumi said. "Finality didn't like it at first. They had a micro stare-down."
Rin had a stack of papers in her hands already, scribbled formulas in magecraft notation. "Explain in thaumaturgical terms. Is this akin to a pseudo-ether reactor? An artificial soul foundation?"
"Yes," Takumi said. "But also no. It's more like… a perpetual cognition engine that can turn belief and design into reality."
Ruri's eyes shone deep crimson behind her fringe. She spread her arms theatrically.
"So the Lord of End now bears the Cube of Infinite Wills, a relic that forges thought into steel and flame. The Dark Fleet will have a flagship worthy of legend."
Kazuma, clutching his head: "STOP SAYING DARK FLEET, IT WILL STICK."
Miori stepped closer, ignoring the chaos.
"Show me your hand," she said.
He held it out.
She carefully took his wrist, examining the overlapping sigils. As she did, her own Chat Group enhancement flared—Finality Trace Analysis.
"I see… three signatures," she murmured. "Your native human pattern. Finality's conceptual imprint. And now a foreign, structured energy that loops in on itself instead of dissipating. They're not perfectly fused, but they're… resonant."
She released his hand.
"This increases your potential exponentially," she said. "And your risk."
"Story of my life," he said lightly. "On the plus side: we got something else out of it."
He brought up the expanded Civilization panel.
[Civilization Overview – Updated]
• Civilization Type: Tech-Magic Hybrid (Proto)
• Technological Level: Stone Age → Stone Age + Wisdom Protocol (Tier 0.5)
• Population: 1 (Pending Migration)
• Special Trait: Wisdom-Adapted Authority Nexus
• Incoming:
– Azur Lane Vanguard (4)
– Bulins (50)
– Manjuus (various)
Misaka whistled. "We're really doing this. This dead world's going to get… noisy."
Rimuru clapped their hands together. "Then we should move to phase two."
"Phase two?" Kazuma asked warily.
"Training," Rimuru said. "And preparation for your first settlers. Come, to the Training Zone. I want to see that 'Flagship Interface' in action."
Takumi froze. "Wait, what—"
Too late.
Misaka sparked up. "Rigging. You have rigging now. Don't you dare hide it."
Ruri's smile turned predatory. "Awaken, oh Flagship of the Abyssal—"
"Stop naming things," Takumi begged.
They dragged him (metaphorically) back into the arena.
The Training Zone recognized his return and reloaded the previous configuration—dome sky, ringed floor, hex-barrier layers shimmering faintly at the edges.
Rimuru took up position near the control console. Miori stood beside them, ready to log everything. Rin etched a quick bounded layer in the air, overlaying magecraft on top of system boundaries.
Kazuma and Ruri sat on the stands like spectators at a dangerous sports game.
Misaka bounced on her toes. "Alright, Captain. Show us the merch."
Takumi exhaled.
"System," he said mentally. "Flagship Interface: activate, low-output, nonlethal configuration."
The Wisdom sigil on his palm flared.
Something in the HQ responded—interfacing his Authority, the Wisdom Sandbox, and the building's own conceptual infrastructure.
Light blossomed behind him.
He felt weight—not like holding something, but like choosing a form. Cannons or support arrays? Armor or speed?
He did not want to show up as a walking fortress on the first try.
So he thought:
Support. Defense. Non-lethal suppression.
The rigging manifested.
Black and silver plates unfolded over his shoulders like sleek pauldrons, linked by glowing blue lines. Two floating arrays appeared at his back, circular frames etched with shifting cube-patterns. No hulking hull—just streamlined, high-tech geometry, more sci-fi than WWII.
From the arrays, four slender gun-barrels extended, humming with contained energy—non-lethal, sandbox-friendly. Under his feet, ghostly sigils resembling simplified ship markings spun briefly, then sank into the floor.
Misaka's jaw dropped. "That's so cool."
Ruri clutched her fan. "Behold, the Dark Admiral's halo…"
Kazuma looked like he'd been personally betrayed. "Why do you get stylish rigging and I get banana peels?!"
Takumi flexed his fingers.
He didn't feel weighed down. The rigging responded like extra limbs—a second nervous system. Information flowed into his mind: firing angles, shield arcs, resource consumption. If he wanted, he could probably spawn drones.
Rimuru's gaze sharpened. "Wisdom energy mixed with Authority, channeled through a ship metaphysics. Incredible. Lend me logs later."
Miori checked her readouts. "Finality is… quiet. This form routes your power through a symbolic framework instead of raw concept. That's much safer."
Rin nodded slowly. "It's like a pseudo-Servant system. By adopting a 'class'—in this case, flagship—you constrain your absurd Authority into something the world can understand."
Takumi pointed a floating barrel at a training target.
"Sandbox mode," he said. "Non-destructive test."
He fired.
A blue-white beam streaked across the arena, not with the blast of a ship's full barrage, but like a precise cutting laser. It hit the target, wrapped around it, and solidified into a cube-shaped barrier, immobilizing it completely.
No explosion.
Just containment.
Misaka's eyes sparkled. "Binding beams. Nice. Try this!"
She snapped a coin into the air, electricity roaring around her. This time, she didn't fire at him—she fired alongside him, aiming at a cluster of targets.
Lightning lanced out.
Takumi instinctively shifted rigging, projecting a translucent barrier array in front of the targets Misaka wasn't aiming for, catching the overflow bolts.
Thunder slammed into his shields; Wisdom patterns flared, absorbing and redistributing the energy into harmless light.
The arena shook.
When the glow died, the targets stood—some frozen in blue cubes, others smoking gently from Misaka's hits.
Misaka grinned. "We combo well."
Takumi found himself grinning back. "Railgun and Flagship support. Not bad."
Kazuma, from the stands: "And what do I do in this epic combo? Slip on command and distract the enemy?"
Right on cue, his status flashed:
[Absurd Ability Triggered – "Comic Relief Saved by the Bell"]
A section of the arena floor under his feet turned into a temporary low-friction surface.
He yelped and windmilled.
Ruri sighed and, without even looking, snapped her fingers. A soft field of darkness bubbled out, solidifying just enough to catch Kazuma's heel and gently nudge him back upright.
Kazuma froze, panting.
"…Thanks," he said weakly.
Ruri hid her smile behind her fan. "Even pawns deserve protection. Occasionally."
The system chimed:
[Group Synergy Detected.]
[New Training Quest Unlocked: "Form the First Fleet."]
[Objective: Establish coordinated battle tactics between Host and Chat Group members using combined Authorities, abilities, and tech.]
Rimuru nodded approvingly. "We're getting somewhere. Your new rigging limits your collateral damage. Combined with Finality, you can end battles more than individual lives."
Miori added, "And with Wisdom Support Cubes, we can power infrastructure, defense grids, and later… education hubs."
"Education?" Takumi asked.
"Rimuru and I discussed it while you were gone," she said. "If your goal is to rebuild civilization—including giving Cursed Children and other rejected beings a home—you'll need schools. Libraries. Cultural hubs."
Ruri's eyes gleamed. "And a festival to welcome the first immigrants."
Misaka punched the air. "Yes! Lanterns, food stalls, music—"
Kazuma raised a hand. "I volunteer as festival committee if I get first pick of stall locations."
Rin smiled faintly. "Let civilization's first true event in this world not be a war council, but a festival. I can get behind that."
Takumi looked around the arena.
Rimuru, already designing training simulations.
Misaka, itching to test more combos.
Rin, sketching magecraft arrays in the air—hybrid tech for barriers, maybe.
Kazuma, grumbling and bargaining but still here.
Ruri, dreaming up dark and ridiculous titles for everything.
Miori, quietly ensuring no one broke reality.
His family of weirdos.
His first "fleet."
And soon, shipgirls, Bulins, Manjuus.
And later… cursed children from blasted futures, artificial intelligences learning why jokes are funny, kids who'd never seen a blue sky playing under light he'd built himself.
Finality pulsed in his chest.
Everything ends, it whispered by nature.
He answered, mentally:
Yes. But before that… we live. We build. We celebrate.
The Authority quieted, not defeated, but… aligned.
He dismissed the rigging. The glowing guns and arrays folded into light and sank into his back. The arena returned to its neutral calm.
"Alright," Takumi said. "We have a month before I can open the gate to Azur Lane again. In their worlds, that's about… what, years for some of you."
He brought up the HQ's central planning interface.
"Let's get to work. We need: housing, a basic power grid, a safe landing zone, and…"
Misaka: "An arcade."
Rin: "A lecture hall."
Ruri: "A shrine to the Dark—"
Takumi: "No shrines."
Kazuma: "Baths. Really good baths."
Rimuru: "A lab."
Miori: "A council chamber."
He laughed.
"Fine. Arcades, baths, labs, lecture halls, council chambers. And somewhere in there, a place for an AI to sit and decide it likes lanterns."
In the depths of HQ, the managing AI parsed the incoming requests.
It calculated optimal layouts. It simulated crowd flows. It also, quietly, tagged certain design suggestions as "fun," "bright," and "comforting."
[AI Note:]
I like the lanterns concept.
Civilization was stirring.
Not with trumpets and marching armies, but with blueprints for stalls, classrooms, and bunk beds.
In a dead world one hundred times slower than the rest of the multiverse, under a gray sky and a silent city, the foundations of an empire were being laid—
—with a god of endings who refused to start with war.