Gradually, I come to. My head is splitting, but hopefully whatever is happening is done.

(For now, sure. First bit is the worst, but ascension is pretty well pain in general, I’d start getting used to it.)

She’s sitting on the edge of the table, kicking her feet in the air and looking generally bored.

The table I’m still strapped to.

(Don’t get any bright ideas, I’m not tangible. Arguably I’m not even here, not even real anymore. Not since she went and stuffed me,) she taps my forehead for emphasis, (in here. Better get used to me quick, I’m not going anywhere.)

I eye my restraints as best I can with the few inches of movement they allow, and somehow only now notice the bit locked between my teeth. It has some give to it, just a little, as though made of rubber with a more solid core.

(You haven’t realized yet, have you? Hasn’t even settled in?)

The girl – a teenager really, at my best guess. Maybe early to mid twenties though, there are all sorts of ways to look younger now. Treatments. How do I know about age treatments?

(You still have a lot of knowledge locked up in that future gray spray of yours. You’ve just forgotten it. Having your soul turned inside out and worn like a glove can have that effect. But no seriously, you didn’t notice?)

I furrow my brow – graciously one part of the body that’s incredibly difficult to restrain. And come up empty. What am I missing?

(You don’t even know who or what you are,) she says with a haunting tone. (Lots of scientists and akashic scholars are in denial whether this is even possible. They’re convinced the soul is an immutable thing, outside of changing itself. Even the so-called gods struggle to influence the soul outside of Systemic gifts.)

I furrow my brow harder. How can I have forgotten myself? Impossible. I’m…

I’m…

Who am I?

The realization strikes me like a bolt of lightning on the highest hill while holding the most conductive umbrella. I’ve forgotten. I’ve forgotten everything.

(Ah ah, not everything. You remembered what an umbrella is, right?)

Ok, fine. I’ve forgotten everything useful.

Sighing, the girl shifts on the table, crossing one leg over the other. The way she tilts her head causes some of her silver tresses to spill past her shoulder.

(You’re missing the point.)

Well. If you’re going to point that out you may as well just say what you’re thinking. Unlike you, I’m not a mind reader.

(You didn’t forget,) she says as she turns to meet my gaze. (She took you from yourself.)

‘She, Her.’ You keep referring to someone, like I’m supposed to know who you mean. If I’ve forgotten everything important, why are you assuming I know this?

“She even took that, huh? She rode you all that time and won’t even leave you her name in the morning?”

Silence fills the room, or would if not for the siren, still wailing away. But even so, I can hear her whisper.

(Erebus. My sister.)

***

We speak on and off – or rather, she does, since I’m still restrained – until a feeling of visceral tension fills the air, followed by a dramatic shaking strong enough that it’s probably affecting the entire facility.

(Ah, there we go. Took long enough.) The girl slides down from the table to stand by the window and starts inspecting runic formations scattered across its surface in waving and running patterns, now occasionally flickering. (That should be enough to get us started. And we’re in luck!)

She points down the hallway outside the window. (From the look of it, the shielding should be weakened enough at this point to no longer be restricting Skill use. And how convenient, here comes a plump, juicy, lost little lamby-wamby!)

I follow her gaze, and barely on the edge of my vision I can see a human with dark hair and glasses, wearing a white labcoat stained with blood. It’s limping, partially dragging one leg as though it’s broken. Around it, I see a haze of light, or rather, feel it? Somehow I can tell it’s weak, compromised, easy prey, I simply need to slip my restraints and-

And? And what? I catch myself. This feels wrong, somehow. Unnatural? Was I always like this?

(I’ll explain it later. For now, I need you to focus. We need him closer – there’s only so much you can do from here. Focus on that lovely little snack, and call him closer with your mind. It’s in your blood now – or ichor, I guess? It should come naturally.)

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

What she says sounds irrational, but when I actually look inside myself, I can feel something there, a pull, like a string just within reach tied to something deeper in. I lock my eyes on the injured human, and I give it a pull.

The human jerks as if startled, and then slowly turns toward me, eyes glazed and jaw slack.

[Available Skill: Charm used for the first time!]

[Charm (0) added to Skills!]

(Good, good. Now move him closer.)

I find that simple things like this are easy enough to do, almost like I can issue mental commands.

(That’s because you can.)

Ah. I see.

I move it closer, closer, a little bit closer…

(That should be close enough. Now, see the light show around him?)

The haze. Of course I see it. I need it, need to taste it, feel it running over my-

I blink.

(Draw it in. Just like Charming him. Feel it.)

She’s right again, there it is, that thread inside. One simple pull, and the human drops like a puppet with cut strings. Meanwhile, I’m hit with a wave of ecstasy, washing over every nerve in my body to the extent they feel singed, and continue to tingle after it finally passes.

[Available Skill: Consume used for the first time!]

[Consume (0) added to Skills!]

[Human (Unknown) Slain. 20 Experience has been awarded.]

(Feels good, yeah? That rush of life?)

Yes. Good. Too good. More?

(Hold up there now buddy, think a bit more. With the head part, and not the instincts, yeah?) she taps the side of her head. (The catch is, you just ate that poor sod, in a way much worse than physical.)

The collapsed human is slumped against the window glass, and the runic markings are gently sparking around his point of contact. A trickle of drool leaves its mouth. Its eyes are dead, limp, almost as limp as the sagging skin around them.

I’ve reduced it to a shriveled husk, a raisin of a person.

(There, now you’re seeing. Nothing’s free. The price of that rush, was his soul. And you didn’t give him a choice, you just took it.) She leans over my face so our eyes are only an inch apart. (That’s what you are now. A monster. Horror. Demon. Stealer of life, of death, of possibility. What you did to him, no coming back from that. He’s just gone. No rebirth for the poor bastard. All that he was, is now fuel. For this. This thing she turned you into.)

She spins and starts walking away, gesturing nonchalantly with one hand. (Of course, it doesn’t matter how you feel about it either. You don’t have a choice anymore. It’s just what you are. In a sense, it’s what we are now.)

Leaning down as if to inspect the drooping corpse, she grimaces. (You’re still not asking the right questions, or any questions at all. Nothing that matters anyway. Like. Who. Am. I?) She points at herself.

Now you’re just begging the question.

(I guess I am, aren’t I? But, that’s not important.) She stands rod straight, heels together, and with a bow and a flourish declares, (Ascendant would-be goddess Nyx, the one and only, at your service, against my will and yours, whether we like it or not ‘til death do us part and all that, please do not hold your applause.)

I can’t help but squint. Is she really saying I have a goddess stuffed in my head?

(That’s exactly what I’m saying, or. Someone who could have been a goddess. I’m not there yet. Also can’t help but notice that you’re not clapping, being all tied down is no excuse considering you’re projecting your thoughts just fine.)

Projecting what, aren’t you just reading my thoughts?

(Well yes and no, the surface of your mindscape is simple enough to read, no obfuscation at all! But you’re also actually projecting your thoughts a bit. Which, is a good thing. You’ll see in a minute. Now, I want you to actually try pushing your thoughts outward. Think of how you used your other skills. Go on.)

I can’t help but sigh. If she’s not wrong though, this could be important. I gather my will and try focusing on communicating, something simple. I take a deep breath in, and release it.

HELLO?

[Available Skill: Thought Projection used for the first time!]

[Thought Projection (0) added to Skills!]

Nyx winces. Too loud?

(YES TOO LOUD DUMBASS! I’m right here! You’d be lucky if folks outside of this building or, wherever we are, don’t hear you!)

Huh.

(Don’t you ‘huh’ me,) she snaps.

Yeah, ok. Sure. Doesn’t help me get off this table though.

(I wouldn’t be too sure about that. Last time you strained, you didn’t have an initialized System. Try focusing on one of your restraints, say, your right hand.)

Hah, fine. Couldn’t hurt to try I guess. I swivel my head to the right as far as I can, and just barely in the edge of my vision I can see part of the runesteel clamp pinning my hand in place, a metallic glove bolted firmly to the surface. And again, a thread presents itself to pull.

The finish of the runesteel gradually shifts to a weathered bronze, before it begins to disintegrate, bit by bit. And before I know it, my hand is free.

[Available Skill: Temporal Corrosion used for the first time!]

[Temporal Corrosion (0) added to skills!]

Ah, I see.

(Mmmhm,) she smugly replies.

***

Over the next, I don’t know, half hour or so (time is difficult when you have no point of reference), I dissolve the remainder of my restraints one by one, taking breaks between them to rest. Using [Temporal Corrosion] seems to consume a lot of stamina-

(Mana. Not stamina.)

Mana then.

(It’s fine, it recovers. Mostly anyway, you still gotta eat the stuff to keep on ticking.)

Lovely. But at least I’m free. I pull the remains of the bit from my mouth.

(You know what? I’m going to do you a favor. I’m gonna bestow my benevolence upon you! Be grateful,) she drawls through her smirk. (You’ve had your self stolen from you, meaning as of this moment you’re reborn in a sense. And a new birth needs a new name. And so! From this day forward, you will be, drumroll please! Nemesis! It’s almost too fitting, plus it’s not like they’re using it, the god of vengeance has been dead for a looooong time.)

Nemesis? Hmmm… I could make that work.

[Warning: corrupt data that is overwritten is lost forever. Change True Name to ‘Nemesis’? Yes/No]

Yes.

[True Name change is now committed to Akashic Self.]

[Further changes to True Name not possible without appropriate Skill application.]

Simple as that, huh? True names… somehow that rings of consequences. But before I can worry more about it, a new block of text appears in my mind, one I haven’t seen before.

[Status]

[Name: Nemesis]

[Race: Manaphage (Spirit, Ephemeral)]

[SYSTEM: TYPE E – Level 0 – XP 20/1000]

[Inherent Skills:]

[Charm 0]

[Consume 0]

[Temporal Corrosion 0]

[Class: N/A – Level N/A – XP N/A]

[Class Skills: N/A]

[General Skills:]

[Identify 0]

[Thought Projection 0]

[Traits:]

[Mana Thirst]

[Titles:]

[Autophagic Cannibal]

[Stigma of the End]

That… doesn’t sound great. Am I even human? Oh boy.