The page turned to reveal a piece of parchment that was different from any Momo had seen before—it was colored a shining gold, like a glittering piece of fine jewelry. The edges of it were embroidered in Morgana’s signature undead koi fish. It had the texture of gold leaf. She rubbed her thumb along it in awe, watching as the class options materialized under her fingers.

[Nether Demon (Purified Variant)]: When Morgana and Kyros first thrust mortalkind into existence—in that benevolent, naive moment of creation—a portion of universal waste matter, a forgotten, shadow-lurking creature, was accidentally shunned away, disregarded, and forced to become the barely-lucid being we know now as the Nether Demon; the universal force of destruction. The Demon prowls and devours the Nether, eating away at the delicate fiber of the universe, ushering in Oblivion Events, and haunting replicant areas, interminably scaring souls into submission. The wholesome variant of this Demon—the Purified Variant, specifically created for you, and existing nowhere else in the realm—would be an inverse force; this class would harness the powers of the Demon to repair and nurture souls, replicant areas, entire swaths of land and nature, and guide wayward souls. This class also has the potential to ascend into the Lesser Goddess type: Anima.

Unlike any class option she’d received in the past, this one came with an attached drawing which animated when she drew her fingers across it. It showed a version of her before the transformation, and a version after; the class would give her the ability to shroud herself in darkness, travel as light as a cloud, and turn her dokkaebi horns into giant taloned-claws. This was clearly a step forward in the monster evolution path she had begun with her Expert class.

But… Nether Demon? She had heard of the Nether Demon before—specifically in regards to her ever-useful skill [Eye of the Nether Demon]—but she didn’t know that the beast was specifically connected to the Oblivion Event. That this thing inadvertently caused the universe to nearly crumble. She had assumed it had simply been Kyros’s negligence, but it seemed that there was another party involved entirely. Something neither side had alluded to before, except in fearful whispers.

The skillset itself seemed imminently useful, especially given her circumstances. If this class really was the inverse to the Nether Demon, then Momo could probably use its healing prowess to undo the damage done to the souls in the Wraith Box—and counter any other future Sera creations. It’d be both circumstantially beneficial, but also morally beneficial; while she wasn’t too happy about evolving into something called a demon, she did like the wholesome part. It was nice to be recognized as nice for once.

(A nice demon, but, okay, whatever. Semantics were for people in less apocalyptically dire situations.)

Then there was the matter of that last line. The Lesser Goddess type. She realized in that moment that she had never exactly asked Valerica what being a Lesser Goddess entailed, outside an intense session of onboarding and excessive reading. Of course, Momo herself had been the one to connect the two Systems—the God System and the mortal Class System—by using the Oblivion Stone, but she didn’t actually know how the God System operated. For all she knew, it was nothing like the Class System. No levels, no experience, no quests. Nada. For one, she had never heard of a class type before, and when she had ranked up previously, it would never tell her the name of the next class in the sequence. So that was odd, too.

Momo began to sweat, the weight of the choice befalling her. Jarva’s artificial sun beat down on her back like a whip; his choking presence strangled her into a tighter chokehold. She had to decide both quickly, intelligently and in a way that honored her own new-found sense of self. God—self-respect, what an exhausting and troublesome thing to have. It was so much work actually caring about the choices you made.

On top of that—how am I supposed to make a decision when I don’t know what a Lesser Goddess type is? I feel like I’m taking an open note test but without any notes. And the proctor is a feral octopus who’s trying to kill me.

She tossed her internal battle aside for the moment and looked at the next choice. There were only a few left on the page, but each of them occupied a large span of the parchment due to the large accompanying illustrations.

The next option had a drawing of a woman—Momo, but taller, broader, and with a third eye scrawled into her forehead; she had her hands spread out, mystical blue energy emanating from her palms. This was the Chaostheurge. The illustration alone imbued her with a sense of dread.

[Chaostheurge]: How does the saying go? When the butterfly flaps its wings… The Chaostheurge is a master of the Butterfly Effect. They have an innate ability to glimpse into multiple timelines—to see what futures will unfold due to small, inconsequential actions—and intertwine that foresight into their attacks. They can also rewind time for their victims, using a special variety of necromancy that causes corpses to turn back into their fully mortal forms for a brief period of time. The downside of this class is also its upside: seeing small glimpses of the future provides as much clarity as it does confusion, and as much power as it does madness. However, with training, your power—and your sanity—can be honed and protected. This class also has the potential to ascend into the Lesser Goddess type: Tempus.

Momo watched as the illustration’s third eye opened wide, revealing a scene of destruction in Morganium; a scene quite like the one in front of her, only Jarva levitated just above of her corpse, reigning supreme over her dead body. She swallowed thickly. What the hell? Was this supposed to be a glimpse into the future—a preview of the power this class offered? No. It had to be some kind of party trick. Nothing was certain until she selected the choice herself.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

And either way—the power to see the future? No thank you. The suggestion seemed almost comical. She’d seen enough bad television about detectives with foresight to know divination was a burden as big as a freight truck. Her sanity was already a fragile thing as it was. She didn’t want to risk it, even for the potentially seismic payoff. Next.

The third option was the closest any of the options came to resembling her current self. The attached illustration depicted her in a field of flowers, wearing a smock and wielding a paint brush. Only, when she swept the paint brush across the canvas, the world around her changed; wild red flowers turned into demonic, fanged creatures; another sweep, and those creatures turned to harmless geese, running about and honking.

[Void Artist]: The Void Artist is a master of otherworldly creation, capable of painting eldritch abominations into existence using the very fabric of reality as a paint swatch. This auteur can conjure replicant areas—Nether worlds that mirror the properties of other universes—with the stroke of a brush, or a mere thought. They are creators of both beauty and horror, harnessing the chaotic energies of the void to alter the medium of the universe. This class also has the potential to ascend into the Lesser Goddess type: Artifex.

This one intrigued her. She’d hardly had any time to paint since she arrived in Alois. But, every time she did, it was as if she was momentarily transported; it quieted her mental tremors, the hurried, chaotic thoughts that plagued her consciousness like hornets; it was the only way she could really connect with her inner self. Always had been, ever since she was little—and even now, in the most foreign of places under the most insane of circumstances.

The idea of painting things—people, animals, flora, fauna—from other universes into existence seemed both fascinating and terrifying; what if she accidentally manifested something terrible due to an amateurish flick of the wrist? What if she wasn’t good enough to create what she really wanted? What if her lack of talent prevented her from reaching her true potential?

It’s art school all over again.

The mere thought of it made her nauseous.

There were two more options on the page. Sumire hurriedly squeezed her shoulder.

“Please choose quicker,” she urged her.

“I’m trying!” Momo squeaked.

[Voidbound Beastlord]: Able to weave Nether into the very essence of beasts, the Voidbound Beastlord creates spectral creatures that are both terrifying and fiercely loyal. This class combines mortal animals with the soul chains of the deceased to create creatures that are not entirely alive or dead—but powerful beyond measure. This class also has the potential to ascend into the Lesser Goddess type: Fera.

Momo frowned deeply at the description. This one sounds like animal abuse. Next.

She took a breath in, and hovered her hand over the last remaining option.

The illustration sent chills down her arms.

Again it was her depicted on the page. Well, an approximation of her, in thick strokes of oil paint. Only this time her form changed every time she pressed her thumb on the image. First she was herself, then she was the dokkaebi; then a bird, then an imp, a lion, a human man, an elderly woman, an orc, a high-sea sailor, a bearded elf; then, scariest of all, the image landed on… Sera. She was a perfect impersonation. The same eerie visage that she saw hanging from that man’s walls back in the Vagrant Dunes.

A polymorpher? But why is that special? Teddy can do that already. He pretended to be me flawlessly for like half a year.

The class description quickly put her questions to rest.

[Voidshifter]: Beyond being the perfect physical polymorph, the Voidshifter is able to perfectly mimic the spells and magical attunements of the person, animal, or creature she is inhabiting. Limited only by one’s Mana and their morals, the Voidshifter performs a very special kind of necromancy—the temporary intertwinement of two soul chains—in order to be, or become, anyone or anything. Of course, the longer the Voidshifter keeps these two soul chains intertwined, the more they corrode and merge, slowly combining until they become one. This class also has the potential to ascend into the Lesser Goddess type: Silentium.

Oh my god.

This class—if used responsibly, and relinquished on time—was quite possibly the most powerful one Momo had encountered. It went beyond simple imitation. This was the kind of power children dreamed of, with their Halloween costumes on, parading down the street, ratty white ghost capes dragging in the mud, superwoman costumes pinching at the knees. Assuming she could intertwine any soul chain with her own, there was no villain she couldn’t defeat. Using their own powers against them, no less.

But at the same time, it presented a lot of questions. Could the other person’s soul chain overpower her own? What happened to an enemy she was intertwining with? Could they still continue to fight her even when they were connected? Could she feel their pain as her own? How long was too long to stay intertwined for? What—

“Momo!” Sumire yelled. “We’re out of time!”

A white halo of light had appeared in the sky, like a nuclear mushroom cloud.

She was out of time.