On his third day there, Ben had realized something important. Doing nothing but creating souls for hours on end was boring. Incredibly so.

He could easily imagine the people he cared about yelling at him for thinking that. It seemed like the sort of mad, impossible task that one should have worn as a badge of pride, an accomplishment that nobody else could hope to achieve, but it was still the truth.

As he got better at it it took significantly less mental power, needing only half of his minds while the rest thought on a variety of other things to pass the time.

From the summoning spell and the other ancient one taking up his thoughts as tasks he still needed to complete, to his many skills, it wasn’t like he didn’t have plenty he could look over. Just considering his various ninth-leveled skills alone, he had nothing but time to consider what he might do to awaken them if he got the chance, but after having gained another level to unnatural mind when he’d taken the job, he still had too much of his head left to spare and in his small cell, he needed something else to do.

…Ah, what the hell, I might as well work on what I can that isn’t going to require magic.

A part of him had wanted to materialize everything he’d need to for some work then and there, making a forge and the materials to use it, but even if the demons below seemed to be largely ignoring them all, that was the sort of thing that would attract eyes.

No, what he did instead was begin working and flexing his jaw for any experience that might give his bite enhancement before pressing himself back against one of the walls and tried to lift himself up into a handstand.

It was an attempt that lasted all of a few moments before he’d fallen to the ground but he didn’t care. He had the strength for it, he just needed to balance and it would be a way of training one of his attributes while trapped.

He’d heard back on Earth that exercise was common in prisons because it was more something to do to stave off boredom than any health reasons and where was he if not a prison? Being confined was making him want to move his body so he tried again, this time feeling himself keep his balance as he tried to hold it until it stopped being a struggle, instead just a state he could keep himself in.

From there he brought himself down and back up a few times until he was confident he could manage it without worries, giving him access to something he could pass the time with as he began doing pushups in that position.

“You look ridiculous,” His neighbour eventually said after hours of silence. “Are you sure you haven't gone mad yet?”

“I’m strong enough that even having my entire body weight on me like this isn’t doing much and exercise works best when there’s effort. I’m sure you did a bit too in your centuries here.”

“...True.”

They returned to silence after that, the galwaxian quietly watching from the side while Ben kept up more than the alien’s eyes could perceive, with notifications coming soon after.

That seals it, I need to get my hands on some more third-tier jobs. I’m ninety percent sure the only reason I haven’t gotten soul production to the ninth level yet is entirely because of my mana limits.

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It was a limit he was once more going to reduce with his new level to help him as one by one he broke and remade each of the crystals on his band, filling each with a newer, more powerful soul as the last moved on, giving him more mana he could steal from them all as he began filling the space around him again.

“Huh, that’s kind of cool to get too,” He muttered, once more gaining his neighbour’s attention.

“Has anyone ever told you you talk to yourself too much?”

“Nope, I talk to myself a perfectly reasonable amount thank you very much. And should I take it you’re feeling chatty again?”

The question was met with a moment of silence until the galwaxian gave in. “Better to enjoy your sanity while you still have it I suppose.”

“Loving the spirit, galwaxian. In that case, what’s on your mind?”

At the very least, talking to his fellow prisoner was something to do to pass the time, even with everything else he was trying to do as well, and since he seemed open to talking despite how things went last time, Ben was happy to take it as the other opened his mouth.

“So, what are you then?”

“Me? Human, which I guess doesn’t really tell you much but I’m not really in the mood to go over the full history of my race for whatever bit of context that would give.”

“No, not that. You can materialize your mana yet you don’t even consider yourself a master mage. So what are you really then?”

“Ah. A craftsman.”

“What? Like a mason or woodworker?”

“A generalist. You name a craft and I can probably do it.”

That got him a funny look, or at least what he interpreted as a funny look from a face full of tentacles.

“Yet you can materialize your mana?”

“What can I say, we all have our passions.”

“So are you that much better at making things than you are at earth magic?”

“Yes, and I’m not an earth mage. I use a non-affinity branch.”

Again, the statement got him a funny look. “You seem like the sort that must have been called ridiculous a lot.”

“You’re right about that but I’ll deny it to my last breath. I just work a little hard.”

“If you’re really as skilled as you’re implying you must have been the most important person on your world before you ended up here, that’s not working just a little hard.”

“Ha, not even close. I did occasionally rub elbows with some of the ones that really are. Well, more than that, I was friends with a bunch.”

“Alright, then you have my attention. Tell me, what’s your land like?”

It was a question that got Ben to raise a finger to his lips in an act that immediately tested his balance.

“Sorry, but I’m not convinced nobody’s listening in on us so I’m not going to go giving away any of our strengths while we’re in the middle of being invaded.”

“What’s it matter? I’m sorry human but look around you. All you see are people whose world’s fell, no matter what hope we might want to cling to in the end and if whatever gods rule this accursed race really wanted to know then they’d have already ripped the knowledge from your thoughts.”

“Well, as to the second point, I already know they can’t. Gods can’t read my mind, it’s a whole thing. As for the first, if I’m not willing to give up on escaping then why should I be willing to give up on the idea of having a place to go back to?”

“How long can one person stay so optimistic I wonder?”

“Ah well, that’s really the thing about me, I’m at my most optimistic when things look at their worst.”

“...Perhaps I’ve been here too long but I can’t imagine any way a person could still feel hope amidst all of this.”

“Galwaxian, when is anyone supposed to hold onto hope if not when they’re at their lowest?”

It was a question that silenced his companion and when he didn’t open his mouth again, Ben took it as them being done for the time so he continued what he’d been doing from there, indulging in his work and his thoughts as more hours passed.