Chapter 1

I made a home.

A crappy one, built with regurgitated stone and coral bits, sure, but it is a home. Situated in the kelp forests near the Iasgairean Sanctuary, I had carefully searched for a good place to make a hideout. While I had found a few shipwrecks here and there, they were all mysteriously cleared out, devoid of any bodies or metal objects. That was a shame since being able to mess with human cadavers would be quite invaluable.

Just think of what I could do with the bones! How much [Essence] would they contain?

With nothing of interest to be found, I abandoned the husks and moved on.

Eventually, maybe after a few hours of wandering back and forth, I came across a curiously large chunk of rock lying about, half-encrusted with barnacles and other aquatic things.

Naturally, I drilled a hole into it by syphoning bits of stone flakes and corals. A few bites and pokes made short work of the meagre [Essence] that it has to offer, netting me a few tons of various stone types and organic bits, shoving them aside from the general [Deposit] for now.

And voila.

After some intensive digging, a cavernous woman-cave was made. A half dozen meters across each side, it was a simple, square-shaped chamber with one side bearing a meter-by-meter hole for an entrance. The walls were made to be unnaturally smooth, devoid of scarring or messy life forms since it was recently carved open.

To make it more aesthetic ( I am a self-proclaimed artist, after all! ), I spent some additional hours figuring out how to turn broken gravel in stone again.

It was surprisingly easy, to be honest.

Just paste [Form] and [Form] together, tape it together by [Linking] their various bits and ta-da! A larger chunk of rock was made. No finicky [Souls] or the like to manage, no need to care if it would retain its sanity.

Just rock.

Nice and simple.

And on simplicity, on an urge, I went outside, measured and created two oval-shaped lumps on either side of the entrance, welding the rock pieces together with more {linking}. Now, it appeared that the boulder had eyes around its circular mouth, screaming at the water like some kind of malformed frog.

Nice. It's cute.

This shall serve as my temporary home base for now.

Not that I quite need one, to be honest, but it helps soothes out my psyche.

Aside from my time in the orphanage and the hospital, I had never actually seen a place where people live. Things like couches, wall hangers were TVs the extent of my knowledge about what goes into a house. As such, I was rather excited at the prospect of doing some work about a pseudo-living space.

So, I made some other neat little trinkets with corals and stuffed them into the walls.

It's prettier.

Nothing shiny, however. Couldn’t quite perceive light right for that kind of interior design.

After odd hours of renovation, I finished the homecoming process.

Sitting tight in my little hovel, I finally found a few moments to rest. I laid my head against a stone pillow and left my spines unfurled.

Very nice.

…

Naturally, I used the time to think about what to do.

And made a to-do list, too.

I’m organised like that.

On the list were several objectives that I was interested in pursuing in the long run, including:

One, figuring out my past and the missing parent mystery.

Two, understanding why this strange, opaque lump of [Essence] in my [Soul Stone] brought me back from the dead.

Three, possibly returning back to human civilization.

And finally, fourth, gain access to more information on how all of this works.

Of course, for now, I am rather focused on task number four.

In order to get into the blue dome and all the goodies within, I’ll need to enter through an Iasgairean. For that to happen, I would have to figure out how their reincarnation schtick works and exploit that somehow, and also make sure that my “host” can survive through.

Because in my process of removing my hostage Iasgairean hunting party, I had cut off all their connections. Their former hive mates may very well couldn’t even remember them. Using a Saighgair as an example, whatever items they had in the past would suddenly become ownerless and might even just disappear.

So how would I go about reintegrating in their society?

The answer is — I don’t need to.

I simply need to make it through the dome.

Whatever that happens to the host would be none of my concern at all.

However, this would be a good way to learn how to fake memories.

That would take time.

But the knowledge gained, however, would be amazing.

So, I got to work.

And the first thing on the agenda was to do an in-depth study on how reincarnation works for the Iasgairean.

The first thing that we knew about the Iasgairean was that there was a marker imprinted into their [Soul], such that when they die, their soul would travel back to the Sgnirmah and be reborn into a new body.

From this, I could probably mimic the marker and do something interesting with it. Though, getting the right [Essence] for it might be tricky. While I could form an [Ability] from the depths of my own mind, or twist [Essence] mush into something else, I had little intention to part with any part of me. Unless I could use an [Ability] to substitute for whatever reagent’s ability to recall [Souls], it may be difficult to get something that can recreate the Sgnirmah’s own ability.

That, or I could also just use the marker itself and change some core information in it.

So, that would have to go back into the list for a while other options were considered.

Next thing on the list was the onion-layered [Souls] of the Iasgairean.

Iasgaireans could be reborn into a new body and yet keep all their old memories and personality, resulting in layers of increasingly more intelligent fish-people.

So, I peered in closer with a mental writing pad.

For some time, I observed the tethers between the layers of self and how they stacked together. With thirty-five souls in my possession, I had no lack of subjects to experiment on.

So, one by one, I tested them.

Peeling them layer by layer, removing memories with {sunder}, that sort of thing. Of course, I kept them all frozen as [Soul Stones].

No need to be needlessly cruel. I simply need to see how the [Essence] interacts with missing components and how they link up in different contexts. Besides, having them wiggle about while you were trying to take them apart makes for slippery fingers, even if it were all mental.

As predicted, their arrangement was fairly similar to what Other Elisa and I were doing, sharing memories and thought throughout, the oldest on the inside on the youngest out.

The difference being was that the [Souls] on the inside were…

Inactive.

Not thinking, not moving, just bundles of memories that were immediately superseded upon by the newer one, like folders in a cabinet.

No… I wouldn’t be able to use this method for infiltration.

It would be stupid to freeze myself or link myself to an Iasgairean, after all.

However, the concept was rather radical.

Imagine a plug-and-play system with memories!

Pluck out a chunk of a [Soul], filled to the brim with some sort of skill — let’s say, fencing, and throw it into some sort of all-purpose library? Would that work? Probably. What I was doing was that I could directly access a thing’s [Soul] and thus, its experiences and skills. However, it was rather tedious to have to go through the same procedure to access it.

With a new organ, let's say, a ‘library’, I could cut up a [Soul] and get to the important bits immediately.

Is it a priority though?

No…

But it's tempting.

Well, I guess, might as well.

I focused inwards again, channelling my {Self-Mould} once more, bypassing my [Safe] with a mental password.

My [Deposit], after yesterday’s construction and other general uses, were slowly running out, dwindling into a thin sheet of [Essence] that barely managed to wrap around my core.

With a flex of will and some delicate {Tugging}, I peeled the ethereal material off my [Soul Stone] and moulded it into a series of hoops, pulling them apart. This way, there will be even less chance of some kind of [Essence] contamination from ‘touching’ it with my [Soul Stone].

Each hoop, I reckon, would be around two hundred motes of [Essence] worth? Flattened into a disk-like shape, it looped around the interior of my [Safe] like the rings of pineapple — albeit with quite a bit more space on the inside. The [Essence] of stone and coral too made its way into a separate hoop on their own so that they wouldn’t be mixed and mushed with other [Essence]. It may be thinner than others, but that couldn’t be helped until I devour more materials.

Spending one free-form [Essence] hoop, I lengthed the interior of my chest a fair bit, fitting even more snuggly against the ribs that I made.

This way, it should be easier to manage the [Essence] within me, along with giving me quite a bit more space to work with.

Checking up on the newly refurbished [Deposit], I counted around seven hoops of free-form [Essence]. Should be enough to create another “body part”, I suppose.

Slowly, I branched unravelled two hoops of [Essence], streaming them towards my [Soul Stone] once more. Frowning, I delicately sculpted them into tiny strands of wires — free floating but never touching.

Pulling them like taffy, one by one, they thinned and multiplied like roots of a tree, as if they were some sort of strange capillaries of the heart. Suspended inside and separated with some ectoplasm, useless and formless liquid-like substance I made on the spot.

It wouldn’t do to have actually empty body cavities, after all.

I read that in a book!

Holding the structure in place, I folded each and every strand into place, funnelling them like hair along my body.

And just like that, with another burst of mental activity, I created a strange, non-human organ now christened the [Library].

I let go of it.

It held.

Good.

Now’s the hard part.

I randomly chose a Saighgair [Soul Stone] out of the remaining twenty-seven, but then thought better of it.

Why would I waste good, fully-functioning specimens when some disembodied [Spirit] would do?

See, this is effectiveness to the extreme.

So, with careful tip-tap fingers of thought, I rummaged through the [Soul] of a Saighgair named Ulv’an who had sacrificed his body to the greater purpose of discovery.

...

Well, who am I kidding, I didn’t really care.

The Saighgair’s memories were typical. Born in a sack of membrane, uses a trident, killed people and died himself…

Yadayada.

Boring stuff.

But, my fishy friend, you may be dead but your abilities can live on!

Through the tumbling mass of its soul, I poured through the thick, tangled [Essence] that swirled around like jelly as I made my way though. Gradually, I gathered up scraps of little bits of memories like picking fruits from a tree, selecting anything and everything that it has about using a trident.

Not that I’ll ever use a trident or have ever picked fruit before.

It's just a proof of concept.

Also, damn! This Saighgair really loved using the trident.

When the tree finally ran out of fruit, I shook my basket in returned to my metaphorical winery. As the little beads of [Essence] — even smaller than motes! — were all separated, I couldn’t quite possibly use it in its raw form.

So, I’ll have to put this batch through a second selection process. This time, I trimmed out every little bit that was personal in nature. I didn’t need to know who taught it how to use trident, I don’t need to see the faces of the people it killed.

I simply needed the motions, the muscle memory and the like.

It all took a bit longer than expected.

Trimming leaves manually is rather taxing.

I could probably ‘auto’ it somehow, but oh well.

Needs to actually know what needs to be done in the first place.

I shrugged mentally and tossed the remains back into it’s [Soul Stone] like it was a cardboard box. Need not, waste not. Besides, [Essence] tinged with ‘affection’ got the potential to be reused!

Now, with a handful of motes, I proceeded to {link} them all together.

Refinement is key in making wine, after all. Just as apples make cider, mushed bits of a [Soul] can turn into an [Ability].

Or so I hypothesised.

Gradually, over time, I boiled down the motes until they coalesce, reforming into something more tangible. I didn’t stop until I ploughed through every single mote and {linked} them to appropriate partners.

Stabs to stabs, blocks with blocks, techniques under reactions and things like that.

None of this work was hard at all, or at least, no longer so. It was frankly just tedious and my attention could only move so fast and still remain sort-of human-like. Truly, ‘auto-ing’ the entire thing would be a great [Ability] to have.

Not the dissecting part though. I doubt relying on something on the “auto” series would do well with something that requires more delicate brain work.

Then, after an undetermined amount of time, I made it.

It was nothing dramatic, no pops or magnetic pulling. More… subjective, like standing back from a canvas and judging if it’s complete or not. At times, I wish that there could be someone that I could ask for their opinion, someone that is not me.

Or Other Elisa, she’s a special case.

Hovering apart from the [Soul Stone] of the Saighgair, it was a small, yet tangible blob of [Essence] all about using a trident. Compared to most things — even a plant, it was tiny.

But its all abstract skill. Nothing physical at all about it.

Well, here goes nothing.

And I slotted it into [Library].

It was a good fit. My tendrils slithered around it like a nest of pythons, holding onto it with zealous gusto.

And I waited.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

Then, steadily, I gained a new… certainty.

It’s no memory, but something else.

I thought hard about using a trident and my mind immediately made its way into judging what kind of weaponry would fit my requirements, as if I’ve been doing this my entire life. I now knew, when before I didn’t, how to use prongs to spearfish, how to penetrate tougher armour by wedging the trident tip into the kinks.

Not completely, per se, I knew almost instinctively that whatever I gained here was an inferior copy of whatever the Saighgair had in its previous life.

That was to be expected though, as after all the trimming I did to remove its influence, it would be strange if I could retain all of its skill. But that’s fine.

Alllllll fine.

I got a lot more Saighgairs to chow through, after all. And a lot more skills to take over when I got the time to dissect them. Even if learning how to use a trident was rather useless for me, an eldritch monster, there must be a list of other possible skills that I could one day benefit from.

Hopefully something magical in nature.

I suppose this was a success then.

“I know Kung Fu!”

A questioning shake came out of nowhere in response to that thought.

Well, not nowhere since I am keenly aware of its location, but it did interrupt my celebratory yelling.

“Oh hey, Other Elisa, how are you doing? Didn’t mean to call you there.”

There was no reply for a moment.

Then, as if snapping awake, a wave of unhappiness came rushing towards me.

“Good to see you are still alive. I’m doing well, thanks for asking.”

She quivered and grumbled again.

“It’s only been a day since you were cut off, miss Other. No need to be so pissed off about it.”

She wasn’t persuaded.

“Anyway, I’m here to tell you that I’ve been working hard!”

As it is right now, she could access to my bodily senses but otherwise, we were two separate people, Elisa Grant and Other. That meant that aside for what I allow her to feel, she couldn’t feel a single damn thing, including any changes I’ve made to myself just now.

So, as it seemed to her, it must seem like I was taking an enthusiastic nap for the better half of a day.

Just lying there.

Like, an actual snake.

She gave off a muted feeling of fleeting curiosity before reverting back to subdued anger.

“Well, as you know, I’ve been doing some interesting things since I’ve made new arrangements. You should be pleased to know that I am very much less likely to go bat shit insane again. Such as, I’ve made several safeguards against it all so we’ll not accidentally use up our own [Essence] ever again. Also, I found a way to use [Abilities] from other beings! How cool is that?”

Miss Other paused.

She sent out a vague buzz of curiosity again after the moment of consideration.

“...You know, this is getting a bit tiring. I don’t think this kind of conversation is working out at all. You’ll have to more specific than that.”

She gave the impression of a snort. Even though I didn’t really know what she was on about, that sardonic amusement was definitely recognizable.

“Either way, I’ve made a library, you know, for us to keep pilfered information in. Separated from our actual [Soul Stone], isn’t that great?”

She gave a mental shrug.

“I don’t think I’m getting a proper amount of appreciation for my breakthrough here. Have you ever tried speaking, honestly?”

She buzzed back.

“I guess that’s a bummer. Can you not form thoughts anymore?”

Now she was pissed.

Great.

I checked our connection.

Oh.

Oops.

I fixed it, secretly {linking} her surface consciousness with mine once again, albeit filtered so that only words can cross.

It’s better that way.

“How about now?” I tried again.

“Give me my fucking body back, you twit!” she blared at me.

Well then.

I hung up on the line.

As an afterthought, I created a little blocker that prevents any accidental stray thoughts from making to her without my specific guidance.

Everyone had odd experiences with hearing their own voices in their head, though I doubt that it would be as rude as this. It reminded me of the time when I was younger and used to create these fun little puppet shows and pretended they were actually real life, tangible friends.

It was a depressing childhood.

Bragging time is over, I guess, just when I thought I kinda missed another voice in my head. Some people are just not appreciative, I guess.

Well, I clapped mentally, there’s that.

…

What was I doing again? Oh right, possession.

Yeah, that’s a tricky one.

The biggest problem, I think, was that my ‘body’ of [Essence] clay contained Physical bits as well, which, I believe, would be incredibly adverse to possession.

With what I could do with Miss Other, I could just hover about inside him as a pure [Spirit] — that was if I wasn’t also consisted of a whole bunch of mushed up [Form] as well. Even when compressed into the crystalline [Soul Stone] form, I doubt that something like an Iasgairean could fit much of myself in it.

A previous experiment with bodies and rocks had proved that forcing two incompatible [forms] together would be an incredibly bad idea.

And I had no intention to be rid of most of my body from explosion or expulsion.

Therefore, it formed a conundrum where I had to fit something the size of a Great White into a humanoid figure while still pass as an Iasgairean under scrutiny. Thus, obviously, I couldn’t quite do this directly. If I could, I had complete confidence in being able to hide my own [Soul Stone] — or the [Safe], from being detected.

Hmm.

Ring, ring!

…

I picked up the mental phone.

“Yes, Miss Other?”

“Don’t you dare hang up on me! We are not finished yet!” Miss Other complained, “And my name is not Miss Other or something like that, its Elisa. E L I S A”

“I wholly disagree,” I argued, “Afterall, I am clearly the one making good decisions here and you are the insane gibbering bit that just wants to sit and do nothing.”

“We are the person, you twit. Being of two minds, pardon my pun, doesn’t make us two persons!”

“We clearly are now,” I spoke, leisurely flexing my serpentine neck just to prove that I can, “And you were just this tiny fragment of proto-Elisa that I had removed. Don’t for a moment think that just because you are, somehow, sapient, meant that you were Elisa.”

“But I am! I remember being Elisa, and so do you!”

“And that’s because I allowed it, Miss Other. As of right now, I’m sorry to inform you that you were not quite a person, just a disembodied [Soul] that was born out of proto-Elisa’s stupidity.”

“Nor are you, Elisa.”

“I am Elisa in every way,” I said with a huff, bubbles trailing out of my jaws, “I am the uninterrupted transformation of Elisa since she was resurrected.”

“I would say the same for me! How do you, if I too feel the same, know that you yourself are not simply something that Elisa dreamt up to justify her actions?”

I paused, contemplated.

Well.

If she put it that way, the more conservative Elisa was probably the older one as that version would be the closest to the original version.

But the original version sucks.

Elisa had changed from back then into me. A much improved, more free-willed and active individual than the bed-ridden misanthrope that I was. Instead of clinging into past ideals and values, I adapted.

“No, I don’t think so,” I spoke plainly, “We changed into this so we can flourish. You — you are lingering cancer, a disturbing influence that kept us from moving forward. I don’t like you at all, Miss Other, and in my opinion, you are simply eliminated from Elisa’s mind because you weren’t needed anymore.”

She didn’t speak for a while.

“Got any more questions or was this just a leisure call?” I asked, impatience building, “Because I got stuff I want to do here and you are taking up my time—”

“— Wait, wait, please. Please don’t go just yet.”

“... Yes?”

“Can… Can I ever join back up? Its… uh, kinda lonely in here.”

Why would she ask this kind of question? If I had worked to cut her off, quite literally, why would I want her back? Frankly speaking, it felt immensely liberating to not be so shackled.

“Well, to be honest, Miss Other, I don’t think I’ll ever merge with you ever again. I think I kinda prefer this right now, you being you and me being me. Less troublesome.”

“Oh… Then, are you going to get rid of me?”

Huh.

“Do you want me to?”

“No!”

“Then why ask at all?”

“... Why are you keeping me around?” she quizzed hesitantly.

“Because you were Elisa and I’m not too fond of extended suicides. Besides, having a conversation partner from time to time would be great. If it weren’t you, I may have to talk to fish people instead and that would get awkward real fast.”

“... Anything else about this that is great??”

“Not really. Are you unhappy?”

“... Yes? It’s kinda lonely here. And boring. And scary.”

Oh.

A miscalculation.

I may have forgotten to consider this from Miss Other’s perspective. As a fragment of me that consists mainly of our former humanity, it would be natural for her to be more susceptible to human problems.

I’ve all but forgotten about the idea of boredom or fear but I suppose for someone in her position, this must be very frightening. Or the threat of hapless doom, perhaps. That would make me feel frightened.

“Well, unfortunately, I don’t have anything I can do about this just yet. Bear with it for a while, I’m sure I can put you do good use one day.”

“... So I’ll just sit here, then?” said Miss Other in a quiet tone.

“Quite so. Just remember, while I don’t need you as part of me, I don’t hate you at all. You are forgiven for being the way you were, Miss Other,” I said with utter sincerity.

“...Okay then,” she said with an odd tilt in her voice.

“Don’t worry too much. I’m sure your human-ess would be useful somehow when I eventually evolve into a god.”

“... Wait, what?!”

“Well, at this rate I’m going, I’m sure I won’t be thinking in a humanly comprehensible manner in an undeterminable amount of time. I’ll need a translator then. Maybe.”

“That’s fucking terrifying.”

“Glad you think so, human, because I don’t at all! See? You are already making yourself useful.”

“Al-alright then. Right. Sure. I’m feeling all pumped up now. Yay,” said Miss Other with a shaky wave of apprehension.

“Thank you, Miss Other. I think this relationship is certainly under repair. Now, while you were here, I do have some questions regarding our prior objective, if you don’t find.”

“Oh? ...You mean, about the dome?” She perked up with sudden enthusiasm.

“Yes.”

“S-sure. What is the problem right now? I’m not sure how to help you here, Elisa, I don’t have access to my — well, your power.”

“It’s purely intellectual, don’t worry. So, the question is this — I’ve been trying to think of a way to process an Iasgairean to get in.”

“Uh huh. And the route with the weird onion soul thing didn’t work?”

“It did not. I had no intention to be reborn into an Iasgairean with the memories of me, thank you very much.”

“Right, so, um, what other options did you come up with?”

“Well, on hand, we have quite a few Iasgairean bits and pieces to experiment on, but the biggest problem is that it would be impossible to fit my serpentine body in one. And if we do only move our [Spirits] in, I have no idea what would happen to our current body.”

“Oh, uh, the problem is that we will need to… get into the dome somehow. Wait, do we really need to?”

“...Elaborate?”

“I mean, we do have those marker things, right?”

“Markers? Oh, the [Soul]-calling one that the Sgnirmah made? The ones were found on every Iasgairean?”

“Yeah, those.”

“And how do they help?”

“Can we not, you know, just have it call ‘us’ through the dome? In principle, we could make the mark the receiver and instead of [Souls], it moves us. The entirety of us.”

“... Eh, that sound really fishy. The dome prevents spooky things like me from entering without being noticed. Calling us through the dome wouldn’t be quite different from just swimming through, you know?”

“Alright, what about not, you know, being called through at all? With what you said earlier about being able to hide ourselves from the dome if it weren’t for the [Form] of our body, I assume that you do have a way to pass hide, right?”

“Possibly? Actually, very probably.”

“Then we can use the markers to send information back and forth instead of, you know, us being there!”

“... Are you suggesting that we ourselves don’t enter, and rely on some kind of agent to do all of this?”

“Scrapping the entire possession idea may be good. We aren’t actually ghosts, you know. Well, not you at least.”

“...”

“... Did I do something wrong?”

“No, no, I’m just thinking of how if it weren’t for the fact that I don’t know how to give you the ability to mould [Essence], you would make a good field agent.”

“Uh, no thanks.”

“It's just a passing thought. Bear it no mind.”

“Right, so… Going with the agent plan?”

“It seems like a good idea. Really, much better than the drivel that I had earlier. I suppose that having a wall to bounce ideas off of is very conducive to actual planning.”

“We could try to have the agent to try to disable the dome or something, sneak us through. Memory alteration could do so much, right?”

“As long as the agent wasn’t found out, that is.”

“...And that’s the plan?”

“That’s the plan,” I confirmed.

“Is that good?”

“It is.”

“... Ok, alright then. I suppose this is goodbye for now?”

“Yes, your input was very welcomed. I’ll do more research now on the nature of marks, Miss Other.”

“Okay.”

I hung up.

I’m surprisingly pleasant to talk with, so I guess that keeping her around was a good idea. Having someone dedicated to solving my problems helped that process a bit, even if it were you bonafide clone.

I would say that it's my overwhelming charisma, but we all know that fear was a powerful motivator. Bullying felt kinda evil.

Yet fun.

I frowned slightly. It would be smart to keep a lid on that one.

Alright.

Break’s over, back to work.

I glanced outside for a moment, looking up at the wavy white ceiling of the ocean, {tasting} the light that passes through. Last I remembered, it had been day time when I started and now, once again, it was day time. That meant either I had worked really quickly a full day or more than one full days.

A problem, I discovered, was that while I was focused internally, I could easily lose track of time and things happening without. I suppose that it would mean another reason to keep Miss Other around.

But oh well.

And thus, I started working on the Markers, gradually peeling them off one by one. Not all of them, at any rate.

The two, prime, shiny [Soul Stones] were left untouched. Of someone named Vrraet and Vahisk.

Plenty else to chose from, after all.

And those two — well, I guess I’ll mess about with them when I’m certain I wouldn’t accidentally mess something up and turn it all too goop.

But for now, I’ll settle for reverse engineering some markers. And create {Dissect}, I guess.

Oh, joy.

----------------------------------------

Spoiler: Elisa's List of Things

"Body" Parts

[Abilities] (... if applicable)

[Spears]: Three pointy chin tentacles, a must have. Don't touch the tip.

{Impale}: Stab things really hard. Probably hurts a lot.

{Swipe}: Swatting, whacking, whichever works.

{Puncture}: Also for stabbing things, but also allows me to drink up the [Essence] to speed things up a little.

{Smash}: For when stabbing things doesn't work quite as well and some brute force is needed.

[Feelers]: Four more tentacles. Thumbs not included.

{Lash}: A primitive flailing that did more than expected. First proper [Ability] I made.

[Arms]: Arms and armour all in one. Made for handling things that need a little bit of toughness.

{Smash}: Also smashing, but with [Arms] instead.

[Breath Gland]: Dragon fantasy inexplicably turned real. Allows me to turn [Essence] into various volatile... projectiles?

{Breath: Cannon}: Blasts a solid-ish splatter of [Essence] out. Not quite sure how to aim it yet, but seems to do a lot of damage.

{Breath: Incendiary}: Set things on "Fire". Need to figure out how to put it out first, I think.

[Jaws]: For biting purposes. Big teeth included, not recommended for delicate uses.

[Stomach]: Where things are mashed to bits for better digestion.

[Stomach: Masher]: The afore-mentioned masher of things.

{Devour}: Swallow things whole without actually biting. Seems to extends range of my bite somewhat.

{Disect}: Breaks down a soul into its core component parts, likes with likes. This allows me to use them properly without wasting anything. Much.

{Auto Disect}: Breaks rough items down into its component parts without conscious supervision. Wouldn’t recommend doing it on expensive stuff though.

[Eyes]: Got four of them. Doesn't need to blink.

{Appraise}: Looks at things and get more information that I should with my so-so intelligence.

[Soul Stone]: All of Me. And some hanger-ons.

[Safe]: Keep me from accidentally burning through myself. Also prevents others from doing the same, maybe.

[Deposit]: A mass of mashed up [Essence], free to be moulded into more eldritch mush.

[Library]: A place where the [Essence] of certain pilfered skills can be placed and accessed from. Prevents it from directly mixing with my own [Soul].

[Mysterious entity]: Appears to be the source of my powers. Somehow immune to itself. Go figures.

{Self-Mould}: My ability to, somehow, mess with [Essence]. Can make them into pseudo shapes while retaining their original property. Possible link to that chunk of unidentifiable [Essence] in my [Soul Stone].

[Human-Vocinator]: Allows me to speak.

[Face]: A substitute face for me to do facial expressions for my own sake.

[Lungs]: Breathing.

{Breathing}: It's a thing now. Shouldn't have done this.

[Torso]: and other things that are not included.

{Tackle}: Full body slam.

{Auto-Snake}: Makes more segments of my body.

{Auto-Scale}: Makes more scales.

Weird things (may not be mine) that should be included:

{Tugging}: Borderline telekinesis. Seems short-ranged.

{Sunder}: Tears formerly-intact [Essence] apart. Not quite sure on its range yet, but should not use willy-nilly as it is extremely powerful.

{Link}: Creates artificial connections between [Essence] bits.

{Tasting}: Figures out... things. Made it, used it, seemed to work like tasting, but for [Essence]. Makes more sense in my mind.

{Barrier}: Creates a sealed environment that prevents things from entering or exiting. Not too sure how it works yet, but "looping" seems to be one version of it.

{Path}: Does something with papers. Got a bread-crumb effect with dubious effectiveness.

{Light}: Creates light? May be a command word instead.

{Sanctuary}: Creates a shining barrier that, for some reason, is harmful towards me. Not fond of that.

{Release}: Make captures things pop out of their prisons. Can be applied by me to someone else's' stuff? Bears potential!

{Passive-aggressive-rant}: I do this a lot.

{Mosquito-kill}: I may do this.

{Shit-talking}: I don't do this.

{Suicide}: How do I get rid of this?

Library: Where I store pilfered [Abilities], stopped potential contamination from affecting my psyche while still allowing me to utilize whatever thing that I had stored here.

[Trident]: The fish people style.