A few critical lessons have emerged from my reluctant alliance with Survival—or Kai, as I've come to call him.
Yeah, no matter what, I can’t get rid of him. Believe me, I’ve exhausted all my options. From now on, together with Kai, I’ll probably have to deal with cosmic threats from time to time. Beings that defy comprehension, their attacks as absurd as they are destructive. Definitely not something I’m hyped about.
But something I’m oddly looking forward to is his appearance! Kai, lacking an avatar of his own—and, apparently, creativity—mimicked my form instead. When I pointed out how troublesome his mimicry might be—especially for Ryna, whose been waiting patiently for our discussion to finish—he grudgingly agreed to change. Now, he bears a slightly altered version of my appearance: blonde hair pulled back in a neat ponytail and sapphire-blue eyes. We settled on those for the time being, despite my visible displeasure at his insistence on keeping as much of my original appearance as possible.
I’ve come to accept his stubbornness about the appearance dispute, especially once he revealed the drawbacks of his concept-ability, survival.
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First, there’s Kai himself. After he mentioned how new beings in this reality have begun adopting the titles of concepts lost in the last one, I couldn’t help but press him further. Questions bubbled up inside me: Are there now two concepts of survival and persistence in this reality? Why is he so insistent on spending time with me? Is there a motive? A purpose? Surely, there has to be something driving him, right?
First, no. There is no second concept of survival; the title is claimed only by him and him alone. Once claimed, no one can overwrite it unless I truly succeed in existential termination—which, to be honest, I don’t intend to be a part of, again. Okay, good to know. If a title is available, someone’s going to pick it up. If not, well... whatever.
As for why he’s bugging me so much? His survival hinges on me. He clung to me like a student copying answers off my homework page, desperate to pass the grand cosmic exam. Not because he wanted to, nor because he needed to, but because his ability works automatically. As he copied my essence, some things—parts of me—my personality, my ambitions, my very desires—latched onto him. They imprinted onto his being, shaping the core of who he is in this reality.
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Kai wasn’t born from purpose or intention. He is a reflection, a mosaic pieced together by copying fragments of me. Everything he is now—his quirks, his choices, his voice—exists because I exist.
And there was reasoning behind his insistence, too. “You're my only acquaintance, Lucifer. Everyone from the last reality is gone alongside it. Of course, I’m going to come to you—you’re the only thing I know from back then!” Yeah... That's something I'd definitely do, okay? I'd seek out someone I know and see from there what and where my next move is gonna be.
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Kai’s explanation of his conceptual ability began to make sense, but he didn’t stop there. He continued, offering insights into the world around us. The devices people held and wore contrasted sharply with the ancient ruins I had awakened from—ruins housing gems, treasures, and dangers. It was a duality of two worlds coexisting in improbable proximity. That same feeling struck me when I first stepped outside and saw the untouched beauty of the forest: trees shimmering with natural radiance, wildflowers swaying in the breeze, a serenity untouched by time. Yet, in the distance, there was the hum of cars and machinery—not discordant, not invasive, but harmonized with the world around it.
This wasn’t a clash of eras or ideals. It was something new, a symphony of technology forged from scrap metal and magic. A fusion that didn’t tear apart its surroundings but wove itself into the very fabric of nature. None of this should have been possible. Not under the watchful eye of the god of humans.
Because he—the most imperfect creator—ensures his image reflects through his creations. His designs are deliberate, calculated, always binding humanity in a cycle of ruin and dominance. He doesn’t create out of love but brokenness. I mean, it's a god we're talking about, not a concept, so they're allowed the luxury of being imperfect.
This world, though, was different. Kai had persisted not just longer than me, but together with me! Awake and waiting—but also acting.
Together, we entered this new, self-perpetuating creation—a world neither of us had fully anticipated. Now, despite his connection to me, my emotions were still mine. My desires, too. Deep down, I knew that if given the opportunity to reshape the structure of this world, to bring it closer to harmony, I would take it without hesitation.
And that’s what Kai did. Because he had inherited my essence—this essence—he acted as I would. But he didn’t build an idealized world, a shallow utopia. He simply pushed and pulled some strings in their creation, resulting in this: a place where technology, nature, and magic didn’t fight against themselves but coexisted and complemented each other. A delicate balance that neither strained the natural order nor ignored progress, but merged the two into a harmonious whole.
It was a world born not of perfection, but of improvement—a reflection of the same unyielding determination I carry. To see the cracks, to acknowledge them, and to fill them with something better. Kai’s intervention wasn’t just survival; it was beauty.