[PROFILE]
[USER: Rian Artemis Reimgard]
[TRUE NA: Unwritten]
[SOUL RANK: Evanescent (Paragon)]
[ESSENCE: 100%]
[TALENT FRAGNTS: 6,780/800,000]
CORE ABILITIES:
◆ Daemon of Form
◆ Unwritten
◆ Origin of Endless
◆ Shingan - Demon Eye
◆ Talents
[DAEMON OF FORM MASTERY]
Basic Transformation [Lv. 1/10]
Echo Summoning [Lv. 1/10]
Advanced Fusion [Lv. 1/10]
Soul Forge Mastery [Lv. 2/10]
Endless Integration [Requires Soul Rank: Origin]
Omniform State [LOCKED]
[UNWRITTEN MASTERY]
Naming [Lv. 1/10]
Unnaming [Lv. 1/10]
Saved Nas [(1) 0/7]
[ORIGIN OF ENDLESS MASTERY]
Infinite Iteration [Lv. 1/10]
Recursive Generation [Lv. 1/10]
Conceptual Multiplication [LOCKED - Requires Soul Rank: Zenith]
Reality Recursion [LOCKED - Requires Soul Rank: Origin]
Narrative Dominance [LOCKED - Requires Soul Rank: Divine]
Absolute Endless [LOCKED - Requires Soul Rank: Primordial]
[SHINGAN MASTERY]
Layer 1: Third Eye [Lv. 1/10]
Layer 2: Flow Perception [Lv. 1/10]
Layer 3: Causality Fracture [Lv. 1/10]
Layer 4: Zero Motion Realm [Requires Soul Rank: Transcendent]
Layer 5: Endless Divergence [Requires Soul Rank: Origin]
Layer 6: ??? [LOCKED - Requires Soul Rank: Divine]
[TALENTS]
Copied Talents: [1/8]
Owned Talents: [10]
Woven Talents: [0/10]
Northern devoured every rune of his profile, his eyes gleaming as he cataloged each detail and recalled Aoi’s explanations.
What he truly wanted to inspect, though, was his naming abilities. From what he understood, he could na things and grant them a slight power boost—a boost that would likely align with whatever purpose he assigned them.
But at level one, the ability offered little.
Northern’s gaze drifted to the ocean.
’I wonder if I can rena the sea to stop it from sinking ...’
[Correct, you can. However, not at the current level of the ability. Also, renaming will drain your essence. Area of effect must also be considered.]
A finger rose to his chin as he mulled it over.
It made sense. All of it did. What Omniform had accomplished, he realized, was containing his ability and structuring his growth—as his powers reached their original potential, he would master them in tandem.
Convenient, really.
For a mont, Northern wondered whether Omniform—or his starting point as Formless—was pure luck or sothing deeper, sothing he hadn’t yet grasped.
Given what he was learning about this world, he refused to treat luck as neutral. That concept likely had a consciousness of its own. He preferred hidden explanations over blind chance.
Still, he was certain this wasn’t the Trickster god’s doing. Omniform had infected the system sohow, birthing the Omniform Ascendancy System. Northern knew because a bond now existed between them—one he’d never felt before.
Sotis, he caught Aoi’s unspoken thoughts like subtext. She was his entire brain, living inside his head.
The old system had felt external. Aoi felt internal.
Northern exhaled and pulled up the next naming ability.
[Unnaming] [Lv. 1/10]
You can temporarily remove nas. They will restore when your essence depletes or you return them.
He crouched and scooped a handful of sand.
His blue eyes flared, black rings shifting in a subtle, almost imperceptible dance. Everything about his abilities now wove through his eyes—even naming or unnaming required him to analyze and comprehend a thing’s form, essence, and true na.
Yet as he studied the sand through his Demon Eyes, one truth crystallized: what truly carried the weight of nas.
A thing’s true na was its essence, a asure of its value. For the sand in his palm, that ant its place in the world’s mory—and in the minds of those who walked it.
The sand’s true na was simply sand. Nothing profound. The na alone captured its worth, enough to define its place in reality and consciousness.
Northern had hoped for ancient knowledge buried in grains of sand. The mundane truth disappointed him.
Still, it made sense.
He focused on the sand and willed the next step.
[Na - Sand - is being removed]
The white grains began bleeding color, slipping through his fingers to rejoin the beach. They stood out imdiately—wrong.
They resembled grains yet looked like dust. Their texture wasn’t rough but unnaturally smooth, almost liquid. No cohesive force bound them. Amid the other sand, they ford a deep-grey infected blot.
The sand hadn’t vanished or transford entirely. It had simply beco wrong. The physical matter remained, but the conceptual weight had disappeared.
Northern scooped the grey matter from the ground, his eyes narrowing as he examined it.
"Water."
[The unnad matter is being nad as "Water"]
The matter shifted, becoming liquid while clinging to its deep-grey hue. It looked like water—translucent, flowing—but felt too heavy for the handful he held.
Northern dipped a finger into it. To his surprise, it still felt granular. Not quite liquid, not quite solid.
Confused.
’Not fully water. Not sand either.’
[The unnad matter only accepted the na because it has no identity to resist. Sand’s fundantal nature (solid, earth, granular) conflicts with water’s nature (liquid, flowing, cohesive). Thus, at the current level of the skill, it is impossible to fully transform its nature regardless of the contradiction.]
A crooked smile tugged at Northern’s lips as he watched the grey liquid pool in his palm.
’But... I can’t rena concepts yet, right? Like the sharpness of a weapon or the timbre of one’s voice, changing how they sound for a while.’
[Not at the current skill level]
’I will eventually be able to...’ His grin sharpened.
Northern studied the grey liquid in his hands.
"To use Infinite Iteration, I have to copy the form first, right?"
[Correct]
"Copy form."
[Form Grey Water has been copied]
The liquid’s mass surged, doubling, tripling. It transford into sothing resembling rcury, spilling from his hands to pool around him. It spread across the sand, bleeding outward in an ever-widening circle.
[Do you want to use Recursive Generation]
Northern shook his head.
"Not quite."
[You are using Basic Transformation]
He shifted his hand. Part of it dissolved into grey water, turning incorporeal as it flowed forward like thick syrup. A slight gesture, and it snapped back, reforming into flesh and bone.
’With this, I could beco incorporeal whenever I want. The only downside is the five-second transformation delay—useless in close combat.’
But the possibilities stretched endlessly. He could transform into any of his echoes or any form he’d copied.
And he could rena poison into dicine. Or rena soone’s blood into poison, killing them before they could blink.
Even without renaming concepts, he could circumvent the limitation. Rena a sword into a club, and its essence would shift—the blade would believe itself a club and behave like a blunt weapon.
The possibilities were truly Endless. The only limit was his creativity.
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