My ostentatiously massive barracks—an unparalleled luxury—awaited me like an open-armed host. The sheer personalization of the space was both extravagant and intimate, with each person's room reflecting their identity in vivid detail.

Cordelia's quarters were a garden in bloom, alive with flowers, both as a representation of her Arte and as a practical source for her tea blends. Fractal's space—at least, I assumed it was hers—was cluttered with entertainment, filled with games, consoles, and puzzles, a testament to her insatiable curiosity.

V's room was a chaotic mix of explosives, salt, and poetry books, a strangely fitting juxtaposition of destruction and art.

But it was Ten's room that intrigued me most. And then, just as quickly, disappointed me.

For someone so expressive in her fashion, someone who dressed with such bold artistic choices, her personal space was... empty. Not sparse in a deliberate, minimalist way—just vacant. A bed. Sheets. Pillows. Blankets. Nothing else. No decorations, no signs of attachment, no hint that she considered this place a home. It wasn't a reflection of self—it was simply a place to sleep.

When I asked her about it, she answered plainly.

"I don't use it much for anything else." She glanced around, indifferent. "Mostly, I stay out in the communal area."

That, at least, made me feel a little better. I made a mental note to check the communal space for anything personal of hers.

I found it soon enough—a few cookbooks resting near where she usually sat. Interesting. I sent a quick gloss message to Cordelia. She responded almost instantly.

Cordelia: Yeah. She can cook. But don't touch anything she makes, you know why.

5939: Yeah, I know. By the way, do you find it weird that my name is the only one censored on gloss communications? You all know me.

Cordelia: Not at all. Security protocols. We can bail at any time. You can't.

I rubbed my temple. Right. Because they'd totally just wait an entire year without progressing, only to ditch me the moment things got tough.

Shaking off the irritation, I pinged the Pirate Queen's Gloss to check what she was up to.

She was researching treasure locations—some to sell, some to offer me at a slight discount, likely knowing my Arte's potential. Odd. I had never actually told her about that.

I didn't have to ask why. The answer was obvious the moment I checked the gloss logs. Every Walker's skillcubes were public record.

Speaking of cubes…

I turned back to the package sitting in my room. With a sigh, I took in the bare surroundings. My room was just as empty as Ten's. I planned to fix that immediately.

Inside the package, I found the five new cubes waiting for me:

[Ruinous Axis, Lunarias, Horizon Step, Phantom Vector, Resonant Shards.]

I blinked. Wait.

"Cordelia!" I called out, still staring at the cubes. "Aren't I only supposed to absorb one skillcube of a mana type at a time?"

Her voice yelled back from across the barracks. "Only for your first three! After that, you can do multiples, but it takes longer to integrate unless you've already formed the shell!"

The sound of the showers turning on explained the strain in her voice.

Taking her advice, I let each cube enter my body, the process feeling... ordinary. Until I turned around.

And saw them.

Ranah. Morres. Temptation.

Only now, Temptation's form had shifted—no longer an overwhelming presence, but the small, half-sized shape of a child.

Ranah didn't waste time. "Okay. Pull out your Machina Card."

She barely gave me a chance before booting the other two Domini out and shutting the door behind them.

I hesitated, glancing down at the playing card in my hand. "So… I'm supposed to absorb it? Even though it's soul-bound?"

Ranah nodded. "That's exactly why you're absorbing it. At this point, it's already a part of you. We're going to restructure it into your shell, so your shell modifies what the Machina becomes." She crossed her arms. "This is my hidden technique. And it's what my faction of Pandora's Box conceals."

I frowned. "Wait. There are factions within factions?"

"There are." Ranah tilted her head. "How familiar are you with the old myth?"

"Not very. I just know the box wasn't a box. It was an urn."

Ranah smiled slightly. "Correct. When the urn shattered, it unleashed monsters that turned on civilization. The only thing left inside? Hope. Pandora, herself."

She tapped her temple. "My faction within Pandora's Box is called the Clay Urn. We exist to be the flame civilization kindles to preserve hope." Her expression darkened slightly. "And your Machina—like ours—is your Pandora."

She let out a breath. "Just to be clear, this isn't a recruitment drive. None of us three are allowed to directly influence your decisions. We can only make sure you don't get pulled into Solomon's Gate before you even understand Pandora's Box."

She shook her head. "But we're getting off-topic. Place the card over your heart."

She took my hand, slowly guiding the playing card to my chest, pressing my palm against it.

Her voice softened. "Good boy."

Then she pushed her will into me.

The pressure hit like a hammer.

"Meditate," she instructed. "Focus on the culmination of your experiences. What each cube means. What it becomes."

Her words thudded through me, each one a force, driving deeper into my mind.

"Meditate," she repeated. "Step into your inner world. You are its god. Its creator. Its destroyer. Your world. Your law. Your decree. Your Providence."

Each syllable sent a shockwave through my body, pulsing through my very core—

Until, with a final surge, my spirit was ripped from my body and thrust downward, spiraling into the depths of my inner self.

***

I stood in the heart of chaos—my chaos. A space formed by my own essence, raw and untamed. At the center burned a white paper star, its glow casting long, shifting shadows across the fractured remains of my inner world. Shards of memory and emotion drifted in orbit, each reflecting a universe that once was but now existed only within me.

The colors were different here. Not the dull, muted tones of reality, but something richer—an ethereal dreamscape bathed in vibrant pinks, purples, and deep blues. Liquid starlight wove itself between the fragments, pooling in celestial rivers, cascading down the edges of floating landmasses like waterfalls of light.

A statue of myself stood solemnly in the distance, carved from a material that shimmered between marble and ink. From its eyes flowed endless streams of luminescent star-tears, feeding the ever-expanding system of my inner cosmos.

And then, my domain's quiet guardian—a personal, conquered library. The shelves, empty aside from two books. One new addition stood among them, its presence undeniable, but I paid it no mind. I had other work to do.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

The skillcubes hovered before me, oscillating in harmony with the pulse of my realm. Their glow flickered, reflecting their raw potential, their promise. They were waiting—for me.

I reached out, guiding each cube as they moved, drawn like meteors toward the forming planet at the core of my domain. They crashed, embedding themselves within its surface, merging, reshaping. I felt it—each skill becoming a part of me, their essence intertwining with my spirit, my law, my decree.

This was… exhilarating. A strange kind of joy unfurled within me as the process unfolded, as my world responded to my will, as the cosmos within bent to my design.

And then, I felt it. The final piece settling into place. The shell was forming.

And I was ready to claim it.

The moment the last Skillcube settled into orbit, my inner world shuddered. A silent tremor, like the first breath before a storm, pulsed through the expanse. The paper star at the center flared, its glow intensifying as it pulled the cubes inward, tethering them to its gravity.

The chaotic fragments of my past swayed in response—floating landmasses of forgotten moments, ink-stained memories, and the towering presence of my conquered library all shifting as if acknowledging the change. Even the rivers of liquid starlight rippled, reflecting the transition that was about to take place.

I inhaled deeply, though there was no air here—only intent. My will surged outward, a decree that shaped the very foundation of this space. The cubes trembled as if anticipating their fate. They were not just power; they were potential waiting to be claimed.

I extended my hand, and the skillcubes obeyed, pulled by the force of my command. Slowly, methodically, they drifted toward the forming planet at the core of my world. A world that would be my shell.

The first cube, Ruinous Axis, descended, embedding itself into the planet's nascent crust. The moment it made contact, the surface erupted in veins of luminous cracks, expanding outward like molten fractures of destruction. This was the axis upon which my new strength would pivot—control over the ruinous forces that would shape my battles. The land around it darkened, taking on a cosmic obsidian hue, speckled with shifting constellations that pulsed like the beating heart of a sleeping titan.

Lunarias followed next, spiraling downward in a slow, deliberate motion. Where it touched, the land transformed—pale gemstones sprouted like flora, their surfaces catching the starlight and casting ethereal reflections across the world. Bioluminescent trees of moonstone stretched skyward, branches dripping with silver luminescence. The atmosphere grew thinner here, lighter, as if gravity itself hesitated, granting me weightlessness should I will it.

Then came Horizon Step, weaving its essence into the very fabric of space. This one did not root itself in the land; instead, it bled into the sky, into the edges of my domain. The horizon bent, twisted, stretched infinitely forward yet remained just within reach—a paradox of distance that now belonged to me. With this, my movement would never be bound by conventional space again.

Phantom Vector was next. As it sank into the planet, the shadows deepened. Movement no longer obeyed linear paths; instead, the world adapted, shifting to accommodate unseen vectors of motion. Reflections and afterimages flickered, ghostly echoes of where I had been, where I might be, or where I willed myself to go. This was speed beyond mere acceleration—this was motion divorced from reality's rules.

Finally, Resonant Shards descended like falling stars, embedding themselves in the land like crystalline seeds of destruction. The trees, the stones, the sky—everything trembled as the shards pulsed, their power interwoven with the essence of the world itself. Blades of pure ruin coalesced in the air, waiting to be drawn upon, their edges fraying reality itself. This was raw devastation given form, awaiting only my command to unleash.

The world around me was no longer just a reflection of my mind—it was an extension of my will. The shell had taken shape, a fusion of destruction and motion, of distance and deception, of ruin and potential.

I exhaled, feeling my presence solidify within this realm. This was no longer a chaotic void. No longer just an abstract representation of my subconscious. This was a domain. My domain.

I took a step forward, and the ground responded, shifting to accommodate my intent. The trees hummed with latent power, the sky shimmered with the potential of infinite horizons, and the shadows whispered with unspoken movement.

The shadows became light. Starlight. Starlight became a forest.

Crystallized Starlight Forests stretched endlessly across the landscape, a breathtaking expanse of luminous gemstone flora that defied the natural laws of my world. Each tree, each blade of grass, was a masterwork of refracted light, sculpted from the very essence of the cosmos. Their forms were delicate yet eternal, glowing softly in hues of violet, silver, and celestial blue. They did not merely stand—they shimmered, pulsing in time with the quiet heartbeat of this newborn realm.

The trunks of these trees were not wood, nor metal, nor stone. They were something far beyond. The closest comparison would be sapphire glass, polished to impossible smoothness, yet alive with the quiet motion of shifting constellations within. When I looked closer, I saw that the branches did not remain still. They drifted ever so slightly, as if the trees themselves breathed with the rhythm of the universe.

Their leaves were delicate shards of crystallized starlight, prismatic and weightless, catching even the faintest ripple of motion in the air. When one detached, it did not fall—it floated, swirling lazily before dissolving into a mist of luminescent dust, leaving behind trails of faint silver that lingered before vanishing. Some reformed into new leaves, reborn by the ceaseless cycle of the forest, while others scattered across the windless sky, becoming new stars in the distance.

I reached out to touch a tree, and the moment my fingers brushed its surface, it responded. The luminescence flared, sending gentle ripples of light across its form, as if it recognized me—as if it acknowledged my presence as both its creator and its god. Beneath my feet, the forest floor was not mere dirt or stone but a vast, glasslike expanse of compressed cosmic dust, its surface speckled with glowing veins that traced patterns reminiscent of star charts. When I stepped, the light beneath me pulsed softly, sending ripples outward, as though the world itself responded to my movement.

And the air…

The air was thick with presence yet impossibly light, charged with the faint hum of celestial energy. I could hear it, a distant melody—soft, whispering tones like a lullaby sung by the universe itself. Every sound was enhanced here, yet none were overwhelming. The quiet hum of the trees, the gentle ringing of the shifting leaves, the occasional chime of a distant crystal blooming into existence—it all wove together into a symphony of existence.

Somewhere in the distance, a river of liquid starlight cut through the landscape, its surface an ever-moving cascade of silver and violet, flickering with reflections of places that did not exist within this world. When I approached, I saw that it was not water at all—it was something else, something that carried the memory of light itself. Each droplet that splashed against the crystalline banks left behind a temporary echo of the past, glimpses of moments that had never happened but might, one day, come to pass.

I knelt by the river, dipping my fingers into the flow. The sensation was neither cold nor warm, but something beyond temperature—a presence, an understanding, a whisper of what could be. The ripples that spread from my touch carried with them flickering images of potential futures—blades of ruin dancing in my grasp, fractured echoes of battles yet to be fought, glimpses of faces I had not yet met.

I exhaled, pulling my hand back, and the visions dissipated, returning to the current as though they had never been.

Further beyond, deeper into the heart of the forest, great crystalline spires jutted from the land like the remains of fallen stars. These were monuments, formed not by my design but by the very essence of my power taking shape within this world. They resonated with my presence, their surfaces etched with shifting inscriptions—words I had yet to write, stories I had yet to tell. Some of them stood sharp and jagged, their points cutting into the fabric of the sky, while others curled like frozen waves, their translucent surfaces holding entire galaxies within.

And in the center of it all, standing above the world like a silent guardian, was the Great Tree of Starlight.

Its trunk was wider than any structure I had ever seen, composed of a kaleidoscope of crystallized light, shifting between deep blues, ethereal purples, and radiant silver. Its roots stretched deep, sinking into the very foundation of this world, pulsing with the energy that fed the entire land.

The branches stretched infinitely, piercing through the void of the sky, each one holding entire nebulae within its grasp. Stars drifted lazily between its boughs, planets forming and dissolving within its embrace, caught in an eternal cycle of creation and destruction.

I took a step closer, and the tree acknowledged me.

A soft pulse of light, a flicker of recognition.

I reached out, pressing my palm against its surface.

The moment I did, the entire world sang.

The trees, the rivers, the distant spires—everything pulsed in unison, as if I had just completed something profound. As if, in this moment, my shell had fully taken form, and the power I had cultivated here was now undeniably mine.

This was my world.

My domain.

The Crystallized Starlight Forests would stand as a testament to my being, a realm woven from the very fabric of my soul. And from this place, I would shape my own fate.

You have Manifested The Shell: Celestial Playwright's Dominion

Effects:

You gain an aura. Inside your aura, the Starlight Forest grows.

Upon the defeat of an enemy within the Starlight Forest's influence, you may absorb a fragment of their essence, crystallizing it. This strengthens your connection to the forest.

You can summon pits of crystalline mouths, their strength amplified by the absorbed fragments and your own inherent power.

You can consume magical energies and physical objects, absorbing their properties and power to enhance your own. This consumption requires a daily intake of energy proportionate to your power, drawn from the forest's energy.

By focusing within the Starlight Forest, you can open doorways to designated locations, anchoring them to the forest's dimensional fabric. The number of anchors you can establish is tied to your personal power.

You move unhindered through the Starlight Forest, and gain enhanced abilities based on the specific crystalline terrain you attune to.

Your ranged attacks within the forest generate spectral echoes, repeating the original attack with a portion of its power.

You can summon a bow of solidified starlight, its power fluctuating with the celestial cycles within the forest.

You can create localized zones of unstable gravity, causing chaotic shifts and distortions within the forest.

You can instantly reposition yourself within the Starlight Forest by manipulating its spatial fabric, leaving behind a gravitational echo.

You can convert the ambient sounds of the Starlight Forest into crystalline projectiles, shattering existing crystal formations to create a barrage of lethal shards.

You are able to manipulate the very fabric of the starlight forest. You are able to create, destroy, and alter aspects of the forest at will for a cost.

You have gained the Mana Type: Star. You have adopted the Spirit: Lumivis.

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