If Alice were to name the current stirring within her, it would be the map, not the compass. She was… understanding, piecing together the puzzle of her own being.
She hadn’t always been this way. Before meeting the Mistress and her new creator, all she’d ever known were instincts. These… mechanical, automatic, unthinking urges. She was sentient, a vessel of awareness, but sapience was a shore she had not yet reached. Her reaction to the Lightning affinity was a mere echo. It was her innate nature answering a call.
But after being reforged, something within her changed. She began to feel, to learn, to mimic a kind of humanness she had never been designed for. And with that came purpose: to protect her mistress from unseen threats, to aid her with the fragments of knowledge her creator had stitched into her being: the art of divination, drawn from whatever remnants her rebirth had allowed.
In truth, Alice was no longer the hollow artefact she once was. Nor was her power the same silent echo it used to be.
Her gaze swept over the vast ocean stretching before her — an endless expanse of minds linked together, whispering currents connecting thought to thought. Once, she had drifted here like flotsam, tolerated but unacknowledged, an intruder in a sea that wasn’t hers. Now, she could feel it as the ocean’s pulse beating in time with her own. She felt one with its currents; the sea did not tolerate her, it nurtured her.
In the waking world, her influence was but a candle’s flicker. Yet here, in this boundless mental sea, she burned brighter… her strength blooming until it rivaled what waking world called Gold Core cultivators.
Her attention fell upon the intruders who had dared to strike at Lysska within this mindscape. A pathetic sight with all of them crumpled, clutching their heads in pain. What she had done was barely a touch, a mere nudge against the brittle shells they called mental defenses. A push stronger than that, and their thoughts would’ve dissolved in an instant.
Of course, she couldn’t perform such feats in the waking world… nor could she lull the uninitiated into slumber unless they bore a spark of lightning within them. But none of that mattered here. This was her dominion, and they had stumbled into it blindly.
Here, she was immeasurably stronger.
A faint ripple brushed against her own mental barrier… a hesitant probe. Alice turned her gaze, void swirling in her hollow sockets, and met the eyes of the man leading the attack. Tristan.
Despair leaked from him like blood from a wound, with pain, confusion, the dull throb of fear, and beneath it all, a single, quivering thread of curiosity that hadn’t yet snapped.
Alice answered his probe with one of her own— her own humble interpretation of ‘gentle.’ It laced out in a sharp flick of mental force that tore through the man’s defenses. He screamed, clutching his head as his mind’s barrier fractured into a spiderweb of cracks.
Even so, another ripple brushed against her shield. Weaker this time. Fainter.
Alice’s interest piqued. A flicker of respect stirred within her. She could see the wreckage her touch had wrought, the fractures in his thoughts, and yet he had gathered the pieces of his sanity to send another inquiry. His will was a stubborn root, and his gift with water mana, a deep well.
So, she decided to indulge him. Her shield rippled, parting open like the jaws of a great beast. It was a warning. If he tried anything foolish, his probe would be consumed.
The moment their minds touched, she felt the link snap into place.
“What are you?” a voice echoed in the sanctum of her mind.
“Merely a humble servant of one you wish harm.”
The voice dwelled in silence for a moment before returning. “What do you intend for us?”
“That is a river whose course your cooperation will chart.”
“And if we refuse to flow with your current?”
“You mistake a courtesy for a choice. Your shield is glass beneath a hammer. I could compel your cooperation.”
Silence stretched between them, but she could feel his thoughts churning with the heavy grind of his mind trying to weigh options, form plans, seek cracks in her resolve. She could’ve simply reached in and torn out every answer she wanted; brute-force extraction was easy enough in this place. But it was crude, wasteful and damaging.
And truth be told, the idea of breaking the mind of someone gifted with water affinity would leave a bitter taste in her mouth. She’d never admit it aloud, but she had a soft spot for such souls, calm currents and patient depths spoke to something in her that remembered what she used to be.
When he finally answered, she smiled inwardly. His choice was the right one, for both their sakes.
Oh, Mistress will be so pleased when she returns, Alice thought, warmth flickering through her consciousness.
Hopefully, she was faring well and had not stumbled into some unseen trouble.
Well… hopefully she had not just tempted fortune by thinking it.
****
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA! FUCK, FUCK, FUCKITY FUCK!
I take it back! I TAKE IT ALL BACK! This was worse — worse than any other mutation I’ve ever gone through! The burning wasn’t just pain — it was alive, cruel and sadistic, like something that enjoyed peeling me apart from the inside out. My throat felt like it was being roasted over a forge while everything around me caught fire in sympathy. I had to keep running, circling the forest like a deranged wildfire, just to avoid drawing attention to the literal inferno spilling out of me.
And it wouldn’t stop.
Hours had bled away.
Don’t tell me this was to be my eternal state! No. No fucking way.
I WOULD SOONER MEET THE FINAL DAWN! MAKE IT CEASE! LOTTE!
[Patience.]
TO HELL WITH PATIENCE!
[Calm.]
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!
I know not how long it persisted— perhaps nearly six hours, judging by the sun’s ascent. I found my form collapsed upon the charred forest floor. I was in my true dragon shape. As I had feared, the true mutation only commenced with my full transformation, and oh, by Thalador, the pain and misery multiplied a thousandfold!
If before was a forge, this was being smelted alive.
But finally, finally, it ended.
I touched my throat with a claw, feeling a distinct swelling. I juggled a thread of mana within, seeking the feel of this new fire gland… or whatever it had become. And for some reason, it felt… ill-fitting.
But by ‘ill-fitting,’ I do not mean its size. Biologically, it is seamless. My throat has adapted to its new proportions, as have the surrounding organs. No, this is an innate sense, a feeling that this thing is fundamentally other than what was there before.
I also felt a contradictory thread of… familiarity. Perhaps the agony has scrambled my wits and I am now sailing into madness. I can still feel the phantom embers of that pain.
I gritted my teeth and pulled up my stat screen.
If the Fire Gland had mutated, the system would have the answer. It had to.
Name: Jade
If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.
Level: 9
Species: Quantum Arbiter (Draconis) (V)
Alignment: Judgement (Lightning), Freedom (Dark)
Attributes:
-
Strength: 609
-
Durability: 411
-
Intelligence: 814
-
Willpower: 406
-
Mana Points (MP): 793/793
-
Dark Mana Points (Wraith Heart): 100/100
-
Quantum Mana Points (Quantum Node): 200/200
-
Stamina Points (SP): 1361/1361
Abilities:
-
Mana Devourer
-
Distortion Cloak
-
Reality Gremlin Paradox
-
Quantum Attunement
Alignment Abilities (2/5):
-
Thunder Verdict
-
Court of Quantum Edicts
Species Skills:
-
Resonance Roar: Level 1 (II)
-
Reinforced Scales: Level 7 (II)
-
Advanced Flight: Level 9 (II)
-
Rich Respiration: Level 8 (II)
-
Hidden Resonator: Level 3 (III)
-
Adaptive Grip: Level 3 (II)
-
F#??e J??: ????? ? ?#?
-
Mana Weaving: Level 4 (III)
-
Equilibrium Trance: Level 2 (III)
-
Constrict: Level 4 (I)
-
Dimensional Aura: Level 5 (III)
-
Resonance Lock: Level 2 (II)
-
Danger Prognosis: Level 1 (II)
-
Observer’s Reversal: Level 1 (II)
Exclusive Skills:
-
Resonance Transformation: Level 3 (II)
-
Advanced Quantum Affinity: Level 4 (II)
Quantum Spells (2/8):
-
Observer’s Mark
-
Observer’s Suggestion
Techniques (1/2):
-
Phantom Dragon Dance: Level 5 (I)(+)
Mutations:
-
Eyes: Focusing Lenses, Peripheral Optimization (III)
-
Claws: Claw Flexibility, Razor-Edge Claws (III)
-
Scales: Colour Adaptation, Shock-Absorbent Scales (III)
-
Wings: Hollow Bones, Mana-Infused Fibers (III)
-
Legs: Joint Flexibility, Mana-Responsive Cartilage (III)
-
Fi?e G???d: ????##????????????????????????????????? (!?)
-
Macro-Trophic Sac: Stamina Surge Reservoir, Toxicity Neutralizer, Hyper-Efficient Digestion (IV)
-
Mana Conduit Vasculature: Micro-Mana Control, Mana Conduit Resilience (III)
-
Dimensional Lamina: Resonance-Stabilizing Membranes, Phase Microfilament Clusters (III)
-
Dimensional Convergence Tendrils: Reactive Tendrils, Refined Neural Pathways (III)
-
Quantum Nexus: Stabilized Persistence, Manifold Expansion, Threaded Control, Quantum Displacement Buffer, Quantum Transposition (VI)
Resources:
-
Skill Points: 67
-
Morphogens: 62
Welp, even the System was glitching now. That was new.
Both the Fire Gland entry and the skill tied to it were flickering with distorted pixels and strings of question marks, like the screen itself was having an identity crisis. I tried to focus on one, hoping to squeeze some hint or explanation out of the chaos, but the entire window froze mid-flicker.
“What the fuck…” I muttered, waving a claw through the hologram. No response. I even tried dismissing it, but it just hung there — static, like some broken painting.
Did I just… break it?
Maybe I’d asked it to load something it couldn’t process? No, that didn’t sound right. The System wasn’t supposed to break. It wasn’t even supposed to react like this. Everything about this mutation was off from the start— it was unnatural.
Normally, my mutations followed a clear pattern: select, confirm, mutate. Simple, procedural, safe. This time there was none of that. It just… happened.
Lotte once told me the System was just an archiver and interface, a framework meant to catalog my powers, not control them. The power to mutate, to truly change, was always mine. I just used the System as a mirror to read what had already happened and what I wanted to happen.
I touched my throat again, tracing the unfamiliar shape beneath my scales. Whatever had changed in there, it certainly wasn’t simple mutation.
As for Lotte’s reaction?
She just chuckled.
No explanation, just that smug, throaty laugh of hers.
Well, the fat dragon could keep her secrets. I hadn't truly expected an answer anyway; lately, I’ve been using her commentary as a lethality barometer. If something was life-threatening, she’d sound the alarm immediately. But if it was merely mysterious or momentous, she’d don the cloak of the smug, cryptic lizard she so enjoys being.
I shrugged. But I’ve come to appreciate that demeanor. It simply means the answer I seek is one I can uncover for myself without meeting a swift end. See? I’m growing wiser! High Intelligence, woo hoo! Ahem!
Anyway, since the System was being an unhelpful lump of glitch, I decided to test the new Fire Gland myself.
It felt stable now, at least stable enough not to detonate in my face. I eyed a nearby tree for a test run… then reconsidered. No. Too close to the city.
So I took off, wings slicing the air as I flew southward. A few unlucky monsters crossed my path, and I made sure they didn’t go to waste. Nothing like a mid-flight snack to keep the hunger pangs at bay.
Once I’d put enough distance between myself and civilization, I found a nice, sturdy test subject, a massive stone boulder, thick enough to take a hit without instantly vaporizing. Perfect.
I inhaled deeply, channeling mana into the newly mutated gland. Heat surged in my throat — denser, like molten pressure coiling behind my fangs. I aimed squarely at the boulder.
Alright, you arrogant chunk of rock. Let’s see what my new fire can do.
Would it explode? Pierce through like a laser? Before, my flame jets could barely melt stone unless I held the concentrated blast for a few seconds straight.
This… would be a very good test.
Except the moment I tried feeding mana into the gland, it rejected it.
What. The. Fuck.
No, seriously — something was wrong.
I tried again and again, attempting to push, even force, the mana into it. Each time, I was met with a sensation of smug defiance from the organ itself. It was as if it declared my mana an inferior fuel, demanding a more potent grade. Don’t ask me how I could discern such haughtiness from my own biology, but the feeling was unmistakable.
But what in the blazes was I supposed to use?! My entire arsenal runs on mana! Did I just accidentally brick my own fire gland, rendering it a useless, incompatible trinket?!
THAT DEFIES ALL LOGIC!
Plus, it’s not as if I did this voluntarily. The mutation simply… happened.
On a different whim, I pushed mana into my Quantum Nexus and allowed a clone to form. Clone-me materialized and looked at me with curiosity before promptly plopping down beside me and yawning.
Oh, it was the lazy one. All three of my clones have their own distinct personalities, so I always know who I’ve summoned. One is lazy, one is curious, and the last one is… a pyromaniacal terrorist.
I shook my head and ordered her to use a flame jet on a tree nearby, pointing with my claw.
She made a face that clearly said, ‘You summoned me for labor?’ But I smacked her head, she squawked in protest, and attempted the spell.
Nothing. Same issue.
Perfect. Even my copy couldn’t do it.
Well, whatever. I’d have ample time to unravel the mystery of what in Thalador’s name happened to me, and to take a mental note for future caution: do not go near dragon-related phenomena without preparing for the utterly unexpected.
Which is rich, considering I’m entering the Colosseum today— an artifact said to be forged by dragons. Fantastic.
I eyed the lazy clone, smacked her head once more for good measure, and commanded her to fetch me some food. It was my turn to laze about and philosophize on the beautifully unpredictable nature of existence, all while constructing theories on what is, what should have been, and what fresh chaos I’d stumbled into now.
And the sun had already risen. After grabbing a quick bite, I planned to head back — today was the day the Spirit Hunt began after all.
That was when a thunderous boom echoed across the forest, followed by distant, very human screams.
From the exact direction the lazy clone had wandered off to.
I froze. Blinked once. Then twice.
No. Nope. Na-da.
I was not doing this today.
With a deadpan stare and the calm resignation of someone long past disbelief, I flicked my claws, dismissing the clone from existence.
“Not my problem,” I muttered, spreading my wings. The air shimmered around me as I slipped through the veil and vanished into the Shadow Dimension, soaring toward Varkaigrad.
***
“STAY ON ALERT!” Giles screamed, his eyes darting across the clearing where the monstrous apparition had vanished. He couldn't stop his legs from composing their own frantic rhythm of pure terror. But the beast did not reveal itself again.
Even Cedric’s empowered explosion hadn’t so much as scratched it. The creature had yawned through the blast like someone flicking a pebble at a mountain. Against those golden scales that had shrugged off such force, Giles wasn’t sure if even Reiner could make a dent.
Giles swallowed hard. “What the fuck was that thing?! Weren’t the outskirts near Varkaigrad supposed to be cleared regularly?! Who’s slacking off on their monster patrols!?”
“The beast wasn’t hunting,” Reiner commented from beside him, infuriatingly calm. HOW WAS THIS MAN NOT A QUIVERING MESS?!? “I don’t believe it would have attacked had we not provoked it… which we did.”
Giles turned on him, wide-eyed.
“I told you this shortcut was a bad idea!” Lavinia snapped, gripping her warhammer tight enough to make the leather creak. Her knuckles were pale, her lips nearly the same.
“Don’t you start blaming me!” Cedric shot back, his hands still trembling as faint sparks of residual mana danced across his gloves. “It’s not like I summoned the damn thing!”
“Oh really?” Lavinia barked. “And what about the last time your brilliant navigation skills got us lost for a week in Kalpa territory, remember that? When they woke up and we lost our carriage?”
Cedric puffed up indignantly. “People make mistakes, Lavinia.”
“I am tired of your mistakes always ending with us nearly dying!”
“I rather liked this route,” Beatrice chimed in, unbothered. “It’s quite scenic compared to the main roads. Plus, that beast had a certain majestic quality, didn't it?”
“Silence, Beatrice!” Lavinia growled. “If we had just hired a competent guide, this entire fiasco could have been avoided. Blast it all!”
Cedric shrugged helplessly. “Well, at least we’re close now.” He raised a hand, summoning a gentle gust to check their direction. “North lies that way. I suggest we move. Or perhaps… employ a swift retreat? Just in case that magnificent beast decides it fancies another round of sport with us?”
Giles nodded fervently, his eyes scouring the treeline for any sign of a lurking, golden-scaled nightmare.
“Running sounds good,” he muttered.
“We run on the count of three, and do not glance back,” Reiner suggested. Though he lacked the sheer terror of Giles, his vigilance was a sharpened blade.
Seeing nods of approval, Reiner offered his back to Beatrice, who climbed aboard with a happy glee.
He counted down.
The moment the count hit zero, they blurred into motion, tearing through the foliage as if the very forest itself were aflame.
They were late, but they had arrived. Today was the day the Spirit Hunt started, after all.
Alice (the serene doll): Currently reasserting her dominance over the Mind Sea. Is exponentially powerful within it.
Tristan (the poor sod): Currently leaking thoughts like a cracked teapot. “In retrospect, probing the void was a poor decision.”
Jade (the extra crispy dragon): Currently recovering from self-immolation.
Quote: “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!”
Lotte (the smug dream dragon): Currently laughing in ???. “I did warn you, indirectly, in a manner most unhelpful.”
Lazy Clone: Vaporised mid-hunt.
“At least I died doing nothing :Thumbs_up:”
Giles & Co: Currently traumatised after mistaking a lazy clone for a random wilderness boss. “Who’s slacking off on patrol duty? Oh, right. God.”
Reiner (stoic king of denial): Unaware it was just his daughter’s clone. “It wasn’t hunting. We were just unlucky enough to exist.”
+16 Adv. Chapters on Patreon!!
Discord