《Splattercore: Devil》 Preamble: Stars in a Void Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author. 1 - Erin Frost "Do not look for meaning in your suffering." - Feline Philosophy: Cats and the Meaning of Life, John Gray My boss looked at me with disapproval as the woman in front of me continued to rant about shoes. It took a particular talent to make it sound like not having a preferred brand of merchandise in size six was the actual end of the world. Still, the woman in front of me possessed that sort of talent in spades. Kathy glanced at me in pity, mechanically putting coats back on racks from where they had been left in the dressing room. My eyes pleaded back as if to say, ''some kind of distraction? Anything? I''ll owe you one.'' But she simply shook her head and continued her robotic motions, determined not to get involved. We were friends, and I would have tried to guilt her for abandoning me if she wasn''t so pointedly now looking away, but in my heart, I found that I couldn''t blame her for not wanting to get involved. It was a remarkably wise decision that she would never have made six months ago when she had been new and full of life and energy. "And then, you''re... ''employee'' here... told me to find something else! Of all the rude things I''d never expect to hear, in her stained pants and scuffed pumps, it was so unprofessional I couldn''t even." My pants had discoloration around the cuffs, yes, but that was more a matter of design than an actual stain, and my shoes were barely used, save having had them for more than a month or so. Nevertheless, I knew by the way my manager, Kevin, was looking at me that I was in for it regardless. "Of course, Ma''am. I''m so sorry you had to deal with that," Kevin cut in, "I''ll see to it that Miss Erin here replaces both her pants and shoes at her own cost. We do have strict regulations, after all." He meant regulations on what we could buy, not that any of us could actually afford the recommended brands on our slightly over minimum wage salaries. "And you, don''t you ''Ma''am'' me like some old lady!" The woman frowned, brushing her fingers through her obviously dyed blonde hair, with not insubstantial gray showing through her roots, "I have a name, I''ll have you know. It''s Misses Tiffany Lockheart, or Miss Lockheart, to you! And I''d ask you to use it!" Even though this Karen over here didn''t seem satisfied with the punishment Kev had just doled out, I knew I was far from off the hook. Never mind that there was maybe enough left in my account for the month to buy a six-pack of ramen and a half tank of gas. "Of course, Ma''... Misses Lockheart, my deepest apologies..." Kevin''s body hiccuped slightly with the word ''apologies,'' and he stopped, confusion plain on his face. I thought I imagined it when the first trail of blood started seeping out across his white button-up shirt. Blinking, trying to clear away the fantasy that seemed to be affecting my vision. The red stain continued to spread across the front of his shirt, and he looked down in his confusion. He held both his hands across the front of his chest as if in an attempt to hide the bright discoloration. Tiffany looked down, and her nose pinched in disgust, taking a step away from Keven and recoiling. It was only some seconds later, when the understanding began to sink in that her eyes widened and pupils dilated. It was the sound of thunder, beating a rhythm from behind me, that finally convinced me that it was real, that the red stain was blood and I was myself in danger. And yet, I felt my shoulders tense, my back straightening, and my body refusing to move. Even as Tiffany''s body fell, something seemed to slap against her face. It sent the loose skin surrounding her mouth quivering outward in waves, flowing from the point of impact, and something sticky and translucent, like water but far more viscous with little chunks of, seemingly, ground beef sprayed out the back of Tiffany''s head and covered the counter she had been leaning on. Her body thudding against the ground, and my innate sense of revulsion at having seen the inner contents of her head, finally shocked me enough that my body was again able to move. Slowly, carefully, I was able to turn myself around on aching feet and face the source of the thunder. Before me, there stood a man with an M16 rifle, some hundred feet away, blocking the only exit. Rhythmically he aimed down the sights of the gun at the people trying to flee, and unflinchingly he kept pulling the trigger, "bang, bang, bang." The shots were slow and careful, two missing for every single one that hit home, but the man in front of me was cool as ice as he led his targets, gunning down our customers one by one. Deep below the fear, I recognized a far more terrible emotion as people fell at his feet, small rivers of blood trailing away and pooling around the coat racks: relief. I felt myself passingly wonder if this meant I could maybe sit down, just for a few minutes, before the guilt came. Shocked at my own elation, judging myself for my lack of horror, my lack of emotion even as I felt wetness soaking into my sock and up across one of my ankles, I had a brief, intrusive thought, ''God, do me next, buddy." And, almost as if he heard the voice contained wholly within my head, the man turned and pointed his weapon at me. What I noticed then, as I stared down the barrel of his gun, was how one of his shoelaces was loose. The edges of the laces were dragging against the tile below and discoloring just the ends of the fabric. He had a bit of a belly, but it was the kind of stomach that hung just a bit over his belt when his arms and legs were thin and taunt - the way only the male body seemed able to store fat around the abdomen, holding the extra weight greedily and unwilling to share with any other part of him. Ironically, even as I was looking at his, a strong jet of heat struck me across my own stomach. Just under my ribs, the pain seemed to radiate for a moment before dulling into what felt like a terribly cold chill. Absent-mindedly, I half wondered to myself if he had somehow made his bullets out of ice as my knees gave way, and I slid against the desk and down to the ground. Lying there, in front of him, I looked up to meet his sad, coal-grey eyes for a moment, and I felt myself smiling in greeting the way I forced myself to smile at our customers day in and day out. Catching myself, I felt a moment of horror as I smiled absently at my would-be killer, like some sort of machine attempting to do a stupid job even as it broke apart. And then, the realization hit that this would be the last time I had to fake a smile in front of anyone, the last day I would get reamed by my boss or have to worry about how I would pay for my next meal. These would be my final moments, dying next to a shitty supervisor and a shitty customer. But, in the end, I was able to at least pass while sitting the hell down. And with that realization, I found myself smiling again at my killer.Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel. Where before it had been a cursory smile, a practiced, fake expression that was more reflex than expression, now my smile held only a genuine kind of relief. The shooter''s eyes hesitated before moving on, and I saw him aim toward me, finger starting to squeeze lightly against the trigger before a flash of movement out the corner of his eye brought his muzzle around toward a fleeing body. I watched as Kathy''s body jerked and stumbled, a dot of red blooming from the back of her shirt, just above her waist. For half a second, I considered screaming, throwing something, trying to distract the shooter in front of me. But I was shot too, after all, and I figured she''d understand if I decided, instead, to lean to the side and try desperately to look like I was already dead. The man''s second shot took her in the back. A sickening crunch sounded, and her body shuttered like Kathy just had a sudden case of the chills. Almost translucent, red-tinged bits of bone flowered from the back of her neck. After a moment, she simply flopped down onto the ground, slapping the tile with a sloppy splash in the gore pooling beneath her. The shooter''s muzzle strafed back and forth across the store, his eyes red and pupils dilated as he sought desperately for movement. Watching for any more hiding or fleeing people from his stance covering the exit doorway. My body cooled as I lay against the tile, blood blossoming across my shirt, through my pants, and down onto the floor. I noted absently as my socks and underwear started to bunch up from the moisture and felt something like indignation that the blood was making my death quite wet and gross. As my body felt colder and colder, my vision began to dim. The thundering gunshots were still ringing out, and as dizziness began pulling at the corners of my eyes, I felt the steady, rhythmic beat start to become almost comforting. It was when those gunshots seemed to stop, whether because the gunman had taken down everything that had been moving or because my senses were too cloudy to process that they were still happening. I cannot know; when there was finally silence, my life started flashing in front of my eyes. Only, I noticed absently after some time had seemed to have passed, it wasn''t my actual life that I was seeing. My vision had clouded over completely, and all I could see was an endless void. That darkness felt so natural, so cloying, that it seemed like I was falling and falling and falling. My stomach was dropping out, and I felt an unpleasant tingling deep in my hips as if I were riding the world''s worst rollercoaster into the abyss. My life, I felt reasonably sure, involved quite a bit of college. I had received a Bachelors''s, followed by a Masters''s Degree in Psychology. Then, as a proud graduate should have applied, and applied, and applied to job after job, all the while working the temporary customary service job I had been in since I had started studying to make ends meet. That was it - ten years of that, to be precise, until I was single and renting in my late thirties, wondering how I was going to pay for that night''s dinner. But the life I was seeing wasn''t like that at all. The many lives that I was seeing. It was still me, I somehow knew, the memories still as honest and intrinsically mine as anything else I could recall, but they were likewise unfamiliar. Instead, in this one, I had been dropped on my head as a child, struggling through school and then receiving Medicaid and living with my somewhat violent father year after year after year. Then, I remembered instead getting married to one of the duchy fratboys I had dated my sophomore year of college, spitting out child after child until I finally caught him cheating on me and tossed him to the curb. It was a messy divorce, and the side of my face would always bear the scar of where his knife had almost taken out my eye. Still, I was given a very generous settlement in both child support and alimony. I spent year after year getting older and watching my children drift away. Dozens of different lives passed through my thoughts, spilling their tidal waves of memories into my flickering brain and then washing away. Hundreds and thousands of unhappy lifetimes played themselves out in front of me. In some, I was born a man and tried to transition, my beautiful, strong shoulders widening still further and the bones of my face mutating until I no longer recognized myself in the mirror. In others, I found some small joy or achievement - but only before life in America slowly drowned it away in medical bills or bad jobs that I could never seem to leave. Hour after hour, year after year, seemed to pass, and still, the memories kept coming. I remember wishing that it would stop, that whatever cosmic force was forcing me to see these lives would just get bored and finally allow me to die. And it was then, in my bleakest moments, that the one happy memory, the one happy lifetime crashed into me. At that moment, it was as though every other memory, the hundreds of thousands of years of lives that I had been forced to experience one after another, was washed away. In their place was the most incredible, most profound sense of bliss I had ever experienced. Instead of getting my Master''s Degree after undergrad, I had simply joined the military and gone out to see the world. Well, sit in a base and do paperwork, really, but even that ended up being strangely fulfilling. I had worked my way up to Sergeant in the Regiment, impressed the First Sergeant, and moved on to be NCOIC of all Schools for the small base in Virginia. I knew, under it all, that none of those words, those ranks, and bases and people, should mean anything to me. I should be blissfully ignorant of that entire world. And yet, I remembered as though it had just happened to me yesterday: when the Colonial came into my office and told me jokes before he left for the day; how my coworker had gotten in trouble for hitting his wife. I had to bail him out of jail and let him sleep on my couch to keep him away from his family. And, strangest of all, I remembered when I left the military after six years and picked up a Government job instead. I remembered how I put out the most desperate, most pathetic ad possible on the internet, not expecting anyone to respond. And I remembered too the man who did. He was tall, with a belly that peeked out just a little bit over his belt, and he had the most heart-wrenchingly sad coal-grey eyes that I had ever seen in my life to that point. He drove over an hour to see me that first night, finding me shivering in front of a Starbucks as much with nerves as with the early night''s cold. We talked about things that didn''t really matter and yet mattered more than anything else in the world. Because they were our hobbies and those were the things that we cared about, really. I listened as the man described to me the plot of an old nineties animated movie with interest. In turn, he listened to me ramble about unicorns and cookie recipes for just as long. A first night turned into a second, and weeks turned into months. He still didn''t really know what I did in the military or if I had any siblings. I still couldn''t quite remember where it was that he worked or what his parents'' names were, but none of those things seemed to matter. Eventually, we got married, and still, he never pressured me for more than I was willing to give. My ad had asked, had begged really, for someone, man or woman, who would be ready so simply come and cuddle me. Nothing physical, nothing that you could find on Tender or whatnot, where someone came over, had an orgasm, and then left forever. But just someone willing to come to me and hold me at night, tell me that he wouldn''t leave if I wasn''t ready for him to go and that things were going to be ok. And our marriage was somehow, impossibly, likewise almost a celibate existence. But every night, he would come to me before I drifted off to sleep, he would still hold me, and he would tell me that everything was going to be ok. The memories, like all the rest, faded all too quickly, and, unlike with every life before, I clung to them. I wrapped my sense of self around those happy moments that had never happened, and I refused to let them go even as they tried to tear away, buried under another sea of unimaginable tragedy. Even as they echoed across my brain, imprinting themselves more fully into my most fundamental memories, even as the realization hit me where it was that I had known those sad, steel-grey eyes. Even then, I only hung on to those memories all the more. I could not hear the words, but even still, I whispered into the void his name, "Milton. Milton Bonnswell." And I vowed that I would never let myself forget what could have almost never been. 2 - Symposium of Stolen Souls "Life is not a Story." - Feline Philosophy: Cats and the Meaning of Life, John Gray It might have been a million years, or it might have been moments. Still, eventually, the memories stopped, and the darkness faded from my eyes. Is this hell, I wondered absently, before the sudden influx of light assaulted me. There was a figure standing little ways in front of me and a blurry field of weeds that stretched out behind them to the horizon. "Welcome, Unbroken." The announcement came from the figure, still a blur in front of me. The words came in a feminine tone, but there was an edge of steel to them all the same. "My name, as it is known to your world, translates to Persephone. Allow me to be the first to welcome you here, to what we like to call ''The Metaverse.''" She tried to speak, to ask her a question, but I couldn''t seem to move my mouth. In surprise, I found myself trying to move my hand to my lips to check if something was wrong, but I discovered that I had no hands to respond to my directives. My immediate panic seemed to come and then begin to pass away far too quickly. By the time the woman continued speaking, I had found that I was once again able to focus on and understand her words. "Please, hold any questions; you will not be able to voice them, and, I''m afraid, we are somewhat too pressed for time for me to address the issue." Resolving in front of me, a young woman, maybe in her late twenties, stood in front of us. She stood up straight, with her chin held high as she addressed us, and she wore a long gown of plain, shimmering white. Glancing away from me, as though turning her head to look across a small group gathered in front of her, she continued. Try as I might, I found that I could not turn my head to see who else she might be addressing. "As I''m sure you will soon discover, your lives have changed forever, and there can really be no returning to the world that you once knew. Nevertheless, I am about to make, what I am sure you will eventually discover, is a pretty generous offer. "Should you reject it, I will be happy to return you to your world with no hard feelings. Though I can''t pretend like it would be a pleasant place for you to find yourselves in upon your return." She cleared her throat and flinched as she spoke, "You see, it may be hard for some of you to believe, but the world you once knew is currently weathering an apocalypse, the likes of which has been imagined only by the most deranged minds of your species. The Gods of your world, such as they are, are busily Rapturing their most faithful as quickly as they can. Those who remain have found themselves in something of a broken wasteland with no working power or heat. "Whereas you, the Souls before me today, share a chance, an opportunity I would like to say, for both of us," she waved her right hand absently. A hovering set of boxes appeared in front of my vision, obscuring my view of her. "At considerable cost, I have stolen you away to make you an offer. I am sending the details of this offer to you now in terms of Divine Revelation - a process I''m sure you will quickly become accustomed to in your new lives. Please, take a moment to review the offer that I am making and consider how you will choose to respond." The [Goddess] Persophanie makes you the following Offer: Represent her Affinity [Life (A)] as your first of two possible Soul Affinities and accept her as your sole Patron Deity. In return, she shall safely deliver you to the Axis Mundi (the center of your current Galaxy) and facilitate reincarnation in your choice of Vessel, including the option of your original [Human] body. Do you accept this Offer: YES/NO I considered what she had said, and I hesitated only a moment before making my decision. Lacking any other way to interact with the prompt, I looked at the option ''YES'' and focused on it as hard as possible. After a moment, just as I was starting to feel somewhat silly, the word brightened and seemed to light up for a second before the entire prompt fell away. The [Goddess]'' eyes I found, now that I was once again able to see, were clearly scanning back and forth across an audience that only she could see. Her eyes did meet mine for a moment, and I could have sworn that I saw her nod subtly at me before her gaze continued its movement. As she did so, a new box appeared in my vision, once more obscuring the scenery. Choose Second Soul Affinity: UNAVAILABLE - UNAVAILABLE - [Death (A)] - [Fire (C)] - [Air (C)] - UNAVAILABLE - UNAVAILABLE ... The list scrolled on and on, and I found that by looking at the end of the list and focusing, I was able to scroll through, offering an expanded list of options. Options that I had found only once I made it through a fairly long list marked simply ''Unavailable'': ... UNAVAILABLE - UNAVAILABLE - [Joy (E)] - [Hate (D)] - [Spacetime (S: Legendary)] - UNAVAILABLE - [Artifice (B)] As I was scanning through the options, I heard Persephone''s voice pick up once again. As if reading my mind, she continued, "Those of you who have chosen to accept my offer, I thank you, but you now should be reviewing options for selecting a second Affinity, as are available only to the Unbroken souls. To those who still are hesitating to choose, I know it is a huge decision, with not much information to go on, one way or the other, but I must urge you to make your choice quickly. For I don''t have time to explain this again, and for the newly Unbroken, every bit of information I''m giving you will likely end up being vital to your long-term survival. "Anyway, for those who are currently viewing your potential list of affinities, many will be unavailable to you and will be marked as such, based upon your current potential. It may seem like there are quite a lot blocked off from you, and perhaps there are. Still, I can assure you that, as an Unbroken, born fresh into our Metaverse, the option to chose a second Affinity at all is something rare and exclusive to your kind. "Next to each Affinity, much like [Life], you will see a letter grade. [(F)] is the least potent offering, and each letter gets progressively more powerful as the grades increase through [(B)] and [(A)], respectively. Above [(A)], you will, rarely, find a Special set of grades, marked [(S)], each with a rarity included next to it. The rarities run, in order, from [(Unique)], which is potentially more or less potent than an [(A)] ranking, but with the exclusivity of what''s offered making up for any lack of raw power. After all, how powerful is one healer among many compared to a healer who is the only creature able to heal in the universe? "After [(Unique)] comes [(Legendary)]; a power or item of legend, whose existence sparks stories and roomers across the occupied world. While not necessarily unique to the Metaverse, a Legendary ranking has the potential to create, well, legends. "Then, the highest in power and rarest of ranks comes that of [(Mythical)]. Most will live their entire lives while never seeing or hearing about anyone who has seen a [(Mythical)] ranked being or item. This ranking is for a level of power that rivals and, sometimes, surpasses that of even Demi-Gods, and yet anything designated [(Mythical)] likely also comes with a not insignificant set of drawbacks or restrictions."If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. I barely needed her to finish her explanation before finding my selection with my eyes and focusing as hard as I possibly could. A confirmation box soon greeted me, and I quickly agreed to take [Spacetime] as my second Affinity. With that selection made, scarce seconds passed before I was given a new set of options, this one many times longer than the list of Affinities. Persephone is offering your choice of a new Vessel. Choose one of the following options: *Search* [Human (E)] - [Goblin (F)] - [Elf (C)] - [Dwarf (C)] - [Gnome (E)] - [Orc (E)] - [Ogre (D)] ... The first line of selections were all names of races out of fantasy and fairytales. As I scrolled, I came across more and more that I didn''t recognize until I shrugged and looked up toward what I assumed was the ''Search'' function. It took longer for me to get a menu to open than before in selecting my affinities. Still, eventually, I was given a list of several options. It turned out that I could filter by types, such as reptile or mammal, by common Affinity, and even by height. But what I wanted wasn''t any of those things; instead, I scrolled through the search functions until I had found a function allowing me to search by Grade. Ignoring all others, I immediately set the filters to weed out anything below an [(S)] ranking. Surprisingly, there was still a shortlist of options offered, and, even better, the search results presented not a list as it had been before, but an expanded table of offerings with not only the names but the descriptions of the choices in front of me. [Chimera (S: Unique)] Each Chimera is unique and unlike every other, created by combining a randomly generated list of parts and traits of other vessels. The whole of this creature is often said to be greater than the sum of its parts. However, there are not uncommonly problems as parts of diametrically opposed elements attempt to combine and become united. [Dwarven Core (S: Legendary)] In an attempt to emulate the most incredible creation of the great Demon Lords of the Netherworld, the greatest Artificers from among the Dwarves combined their efforts into developing these reforged and empowered Dungeon Cores. Often the heart of their greatest, sprawling cities, these cores are inhabited by a single soul that had been guided to within the depths of this living crystal. The souls contained therein cannot feel, taste, smell, or even manipulate their bodies and surroundings directly, except through the senses of their bonded creatures - but in recompense, the bound souls are protected by the ravages of time. Safe within the living crystal of this Core, a soul will be immune to the soul splintering incurred by branching timelines and, thereby, crystalize Abilities of greater power more quickly. [Shoggothia (S: Unique)] Formerly in the service of the Outer Dark, this creature has been held contained by the mortal races for years beyond imagining - and, having lost its mind and soul with the unending march of time, it is open to possession by an entity of greater weight or power. [Devil Core (S: Mythic)] Created by the ancient Demon Lords and blessed by the Dark Gods, these Cores represent the pentacle of artificial Core design in the Metaverse. Though no new Devil Cores have been created in millennia, those that survive rule their dystopian kingdoms with an iron fist. The Core is capable of housing a single soul to rule the powers of the stone. This soul then receives the Core''s [Corrupted] abilities and houses up to 12 additional enslaved souls, bound to the Ruler for all time, to empower the Core''s minions and assist with the trillions of subconscious calculations that are required to master the most advanced Abilities and Magics. This Core also comes with a heavy Curse upon all occupying souls - while the Core potentially can house a soul forever and all time, as well as preventing an integrated soul from splitting or fracturing, likewise integrated souls are unable to leave. Should the Devil Core be destroyed, so too will the souls it houses be lost forevermore. While the Chimera seemed like something of a crapshoot, having the ability to be really good or really bad depending on pure, blind chance, the other options were considerably more interesting. My assumption was that a Shoggothia was a tentacled horror from beyond space and time, and, with my spacetime affinity, it was itself incredibly tempting. It would have been an absolute shoo-in, in fact, if not for the very last option presented to me. Judging by how the Goddess had addressed us as Unbroken and seemed to place a great deal of emphasis on that title, it could be assumed that this title was likely what made us especially special to her. What an ''Unbroken'' was was anyone''s guess - but considering the only part of my being that appeared to exist at that moment in time was literally just my soul, it didn''t seem like there were many options other than our possession of ''Unbroken'' souls. These Cores specifically would prevent my soul from fracturing at any point in the future. While I wasn''t entirely sure what that would entail, I found myself wanting it desperately from the moment I read that preventing it was an option. There was a slight downside in that death would be, well, permanent in a way that it (apparently) might not be otherwise. Yet considering the possibility of souls being enslaved, as this Devil Core specifically appeared to be able to do, I figured permanent death might be a blessing in comparison to some of the fates that could befall me after a particularly unpleasant death. So it was that, upon reading through that final option, I hesitated only briefly before staring at [Devil Core] and willing it to select. The moment the selection was finalized, instead of once again seeing Persephone looking out toward me, my vision was immediately filled with a flashing ''WARNING!'' message. This square box filled my eye and seemed to throb in time with my heartbeat. I may not have been able to see the Goddess in front of me through the prompt, but still, the metaphorical hairs on the back of my spirit-neck stood up on end as I felt her eyes fall upon me regardless. I could hear her pointedly pausing, taking a breath, and my entire soul clenched as she began to speak. "Miss Frost," her voice wasn''t angry. Still, there was a cold undertone to it nevertheless, "while I will allow you to select that Vessel if you so chose, mainly due to your second Affinity being a potentially exciting fit, I must warn you - to give you that Vessel, I will have to incarnate you into the Netherworld itself, as that is where the vessel reposes. "I will, of course, send my most loyal Fae to retrieve you to the Axis Mundi, per our agreement, but it will likely take some time. A month perhaps, in the Metaverse, to retrieve you and bring you back. Which, due to the temporal conversion rate between the Netherworld and Metaverse, could easily feel like a thousand years to you in the Netherworld, subjectively." With those words, she paused, and the ''WARNING!'' screen melted away into a simple confirmation prompt: Accept Vessel: [Devil Core] YES/NO. Warning or no warning, I didn''t hesitate further. A thousand years to an immortal being? That sounded to me just right for a tutorial. Besides, considering I was about as familiar with the ''Netherworld'' as I was with this ''Axis Mundi'', it hardly seemed to make much difference to me which I ended up in. What mattered was power. What mattered was I would never have to go back to the unmagical earth and all of the mundane suffering it had gifted me. "Very well, Miss Frost. I suppose you''ve made your choice." The somewhat flat tone of Persephone''s speech brought my attention back around to the Goddess. Her eyes were looking off into the distance, more than usual, and she paused for some time before she spoke again. "I do see that many souls were harvested by my Husband from the area you were Raptured. I shall send them to you once you are incarnated if you should want to keep them. While broken and undoubtedly less powerful than some other options you could one day have, the company of some familiar beings might offer you some comfort." Louder now, her voice resonated across the fields around us, "Unbroken that remain, I thank you for accepting my offer. I look forward to seeing your triumphs and celebrating your victories in the Axis Mundi. "As my Champions, I shall always be watching and cheering for your success. I will personally keep watch over your progression as you Crystalize new or improved Abilities from your Affinities. I myself have a vested interest, you should know, as every Ability crystalized from my own affinity among my followers offers me greater hold over the world and power. "Farewell, my unbroken. And good luck." The last words came almost as a whisper as I found myself falling once again, only then, as I fell, noticing that under Persephone''s dress, instead of feet there were several long, thin lumps. And underneath, as my vision approached the ground but before my fall continued on, I saw the collection of hairy clawed appendages of an insect... or perhaps a spider... where she should have had feet. Thankfully, no impossible memories continued to assault me and, despite the sickening sensation of falling, I found myself alone with my thoughts and finally able to process what had just happened to me. What was happening to me. And I found the darkness of the fall into an endless nothing somehow soothing in comparison. 3 - Sins of the Core
¡°Prison is a frame of thought, we¡¯re all our own prisons, we''re each our own wardens and we do our own time. See prison in your mind, can¡¯t you see I¡¯m free?¡± ¨D Charles Manson I felt my body being condensed as I fell, not in a painful way, thankfully. Still, it was uncomfortable, and my nonexistent skin was squished further toward the center of my absent body with every passing second. Name: [Unassigned] Titles: [Mythic] Soul Affinity: [Life](i) *Soul Affinity: [Spacetime](i) Vessel: [Devil Core](i) Attributes: [Sloth] 12 (1 Kilometer) [Pride] 0/12 [Gluttony] 0 (1 consumed per 60 years) [Lust] 0 [Greed] 1000/1000 (10% per minute regenerated) [Wrath] Innate Ability: [Corruption](i) Vessel: [Devil Core](i) (Innate Affinity: Spirit (S: Legendary)) As mortal bodies possess an innate [Life] affinity or sub-affinity, so do non-biological Vessels. While often more restrictive than a pure Soul Affinity and likewise restricted for use during active embodiment only, Vessels determine the medium through which a Soul can interact with the world around it in terms of physical abilities, mental abilities, and metabolism. A vessel''s affinity both determines and shapes the vessel''s available attributes following its nature. [Sloth] Capable of sprouting 12(x) [Corrupted] spirit tendril limbs, used for all sensory input and external manipulation outside of the Core, wherein each stem is (y) Kilometers long. Variables are dependent upon Vessel progression. [Sloth] spirit tendrils are capable of interacting with Spirit, as well as, to a lesser extent, Matter and Energy. The primary function of these tendrils tends to be: the capture of spirits, the gathering of sensory data, and the channeling of the Soul''s Affinities and Affinity Abilities. [Pride] Allows for the enslavement of powerful souls. Enslaved souls increase intuition, mental processing power and provide access to lesser variations of an enslaved soul''s known Abilities. Enslaving souls allows a core to grow in power by sharing the subjugated intelligence, wisdom, experience, and affinity powers that would not otherwise be available. [Gluttony] The consumption of captured souls powers the Core. While there is no upper limit to the number of souls that can be consumed, upon reaching zero, the Core will begin devouring Enslaved Souls and then, finally, the possessing soul itself. Metabolism becomes more efficient with Vessel progression. All Vessel Attributes will be additionally strengthened depending on the current number of consumed souls powering the Core. With vessel progression, more powerful souls may increasingly be consumed with greater and greater efficiency. [Lust] This attribute allows the Core to retain and utilize data and limits how stored data can be called upon for other Abilities. Baseline, this attribute grants near-perfect recall of memory as well as the storage of a near limitless amount of additional data. With Vessel progression, [Lust] increasingly interacts with other attributes. [Greed] Interacts with M.A.N.A., draining it from the environment and storing it for use. Vessel Progression interacts with Soul Affinity progressions in determining the maximum amount stored. Regeneration listed is Maximum potential regeneration; actual regeneration rates are dependent on the environment and M.A.N.A. density. [Wrath] Spreads [Corruption]. Interacts with Soul Affinities, enslaved souls, and all other Attributes. Warning: [Corruption] is considered anathema to the [Pantheon of Light] and their allies. As such, the corrupted and the spreaders of corruption are hunted down with extreme prejudice.
[Corruption] Corruption represents the Core''s innate potential and influence, spreading based on Attributes and Abilities of the Core. The higher the level of Corruption, the more potential and influence the Core may exert, but the more that Corruption likewise responds to and permanently twists a soul''s innate Affinities. through things easily enough, but I couldn''t quite figure out how to make my view solidify, how to affect the items in front of me physically instead. Consume Soul? Enslave Soul? [Pride] 1/12 - soul successfully captured. good. [Pride] 5/12