“Prison is a frame of thought, we’re all our own prisons, we're each our own wardens and we do our own time. See prison in your mind, can’t you see I’m free?” ― Charles Manson
I felt my body being condensed as I fell, not in a painful way, thankfully. Still, it was uncomfortable, and my nonexistent skin was squished further toward the center of my absent body with every passing second.
In the end, when my fall was finally over, I felt a steady floor beneath me. Still, my vision spun, and my body searched desperately for a stomach to squeeze and a mouth to vomit through. It was several minutes; I believed before I regained my wits and began to look around.
It seemed that I did not have eyes, yet I seemed to possess senses able to perceive the light all around me. Having access to a line of sight both before and behind me at the same time would have been confusing enough, but when I discovered I could look around objects and through solid surfaces, my mind again began to reel.
I appeared to be in something that was a strange juxtaposition of an extensive library and a museum. The room I was in was roughly a few hundred feet in each direction, with bookshelves, pedestals, and armchairs distributed lovingly throughout.
I, myself, I could see, looked like a heavy, amber pyramid that was a bit larger than a softball, with a quartz crystal frozen inside. Around the quartz was a thin but ornate latticework of strange, golden metal, and at each corner, a single, transparent opal was mounted upon that lattice. The crystal of my main body was a clear prism but with a deep, violet glow emanating from within.
In total, there appeared to be twelve of the small, transparent opals along the top and bottom of the quartz centerpiece and, if one were to look closely, one could see tiny, runic script flowing up and down the thin metal latticework that seemed to reflect the strange lettering across the amber with little flashes of glowing light.
To the right of me, on the shelf that I rested upon, there was one other amber pyramid, similar in shape and construction. However, the quartz centerpiece lacked any light from within, and the strange refracted light cast by the latticework script did not sparkle across the surface of the amber pyramid. Considering that the light of my crystal seemed to glow or dim depending on my feelings of agitation, I was quickly coming to read that lack of light as proof that the crystal was utterly inert.
There were some other strangely shaped objects that I didn't recognize on the shelf across from the wall I resided upon. However, what caught my attention first, above the books and frames and strange artifacts surrounding me, was displayed on the wall just above an armchair and table. After the peculiar experiences of Goddesses and Status Notification screens, the existence in this new world of the stylized M60 Rifle displayed above that table was shocking to my Core.
Perhaps I had been reading too much or remembering too much of the Anime that Milton used to love. Still, I had been assuming more and more with every passing minute that I had plunged into some idealized, fantasy world full of unicorns and dragons and magic. The rifle displayed so boldly above me, however, was a stark reminder of reality. I couldn't look at it without reliving my near-death in my head.
Instead, I focused away from the far too real bit of weaponry and experimented with my almost omnificent sense of vision. I didn't see how there could be light between the pages of the books stacked facing the wall on bookshelves, but somehow as I focused, my vision zoomed in, and I was able to see through the shelves, through the closed pages, and read each page of each book as if it were spread out in front of me. Or, that is, I would have been able to read them had I spoken the languages of their writing, but every book was as foreign to me as if I were trying to read ancient hieroglyphics.
Frustrated, my attention turned to trying to read my status screen. As Persephone had promised, I focused on her name and attempted to access my M.A.N.A. It was then that a new problem appeared, in that I did not have a voice and did not seem capable of speech. It was an embarrassingly long time before I discovered how to shrink my viewpoint enough that I could look deep into the very center of the quartz crystal, and only then was I graced with the information that I had sought:
Name: [Unassigned]
Titles: [Mythic]
Soul Affinity: [Life](i)
*Soul Affinity: [Spacetime](i)
Vessel: [Devil Core](i)
Attributes:
[Sloth] 12 (1 Kilometer)
[Pride] 0/12
[Gluttony] 0 (1 consumed per 60 years)
[Lust] 0
[Greed] 1000/1000 (10% per minute regenerated)
[Wrath]
Innate Ability: [Corruption](i)
The Named entries didn't have much context for me, being freshly born into this world. It took longer than it should have for me to figure out how to mentally poke each entry by focusing on it, much the same way I had in the realm of the [Goddess]. The Ability and Attributes entries were entirely new to me.
Vessel: [Devil Core](i) (Innate Affinity: Spirit (S: Legendary))
As mortal bodies possess an innate [Life] affinity or sub-affinity, so do non-biological Vessels. While often more restrictive than a pure Soul Affinity and likewise restricted for use during active embodiment only, Vessels determine the medium through which a Soul can interact with the world around it in terms of physical abilities, mental abilities, and metabolism. A vessel's affinity both determines and shapes the vessel's available attributes following its nature.
[Sloth]
Capable of sprouting 12(x) [Corrupted] spirit tendril limbs, used for all sensory input and external manipulation outside of the Core, wherein each stem is (y) Kilometers long. Variables are dependent upon Vessel progression. [Sloth] spirit tendrils are capable of interacting with Spirit, as well as, to a lesser extent, Matter and Energy. The primary function of these tendrils tends to be: the capture of spirits, the gathering of sensory data, and the channeling of the Soul's Affinities and Affinity Abilities.
[Pride]
Allows for the enslavement of powerful souls. Enslaved souls increase intuition, mental processing power and provide access to lesser variations of an enslaved soul's known Abilities. Enslaving souls allows a core to grow in power by sharing the subjugated intelligence, wisdom, experience, and affinity powers that would not otherwise be available.
[Gluttony]
The consumption of captured souls powers the Core. While there is no upper limit to the number of souls that can be consumed, upon reaching zero, the Core will begin devouring Enslaved Souls and then, finally, the possessing soul itself. Metabolism becomes more efficient with Vessel progression. All Vessel Attributes will be additionally strengthened depending on the current number of consumed souls powering the Core. With vessel progression, more powerful souls may increasingly be consumed with greater and greater efficiency.
[Lust]
This attribute allows the Core to retain and utilize data and limits how stored data can be called upon for other Abilities. Baseline, this attribute grants near-perfect recall of memory as well as the storage of a near limitless amount of additional data. With Vessel progression, [Lust] increasingly interacts with other attributes.
[Greed]
Interacts with M.A.N.A., draining it from the environment and storing it for use. Vessel Progression interacts with Soul Affinity progressions in determining the maximum amount stored. Regeneration listed is Maximum potential regeneration; actual regeneration rates are dependent on the environment and M.A.N.A. density.
[Wrath]
Spreads [Corruption]. Interacts with Soul Affinities, enslaved souls, and all other Attributes. Warning: [Corruption] is considered anathema to the [Pantheon of Light] and their allies. As such, the corrupted and the spreaders of corruption are hunted down with extreme prejudice.
[Corruption]
Corruption represents the Core's innate potential and influence, spreading based on Attributes and Abilities of the Core. The higher the level of Corruption, the more potential and influence the Core may exert, but the more that Corruption likewise responds to and permanently twists a soul's innate Affinities.
I figured that the descriptions offered were surprisingly helpful, with apparent exceptions aside. [Wrath] read more like a threat than an Attribute, but I guessed that, given the name, it was ironically somewhat appropriate.
What interested me the most just then was the description of [Sloth]. According to the Attribute, the perspective I had been experiencing the world through, up to, and including finding my Status Screen was the product of some sort of Tenderal that I had been accessing. Moreover, it insinuated that these 'tendril' limbs were able to do significantly more than simply look at the room around me.
I spent the next several hours(or potentially even days as within the walls of that room I could hardly tell day from night) adjusting my sight and attempting to manipulate the world around me. My vision went through things easily enough, but I couldn't quite figure out how to make my view solidify, how to affect the items in front of me physically instead.
It wasn't until I focused on splitting my perspective and seeing through multiple tendrils at once that I discovered any progress. As much as I expected the split vision to disorient me, seeing the same things through multiple individual viewpoints, it ended up feeling no different than opening both eyes and focusing my vision as I had before in my human body. It was just that, instead of 2, there were 12, and concentrating on my eyesight allowed me to change not only my perspective with each eye but also their viewpoint.
It must have been some particularity of my new vessel, that ability to process so many perspectives at once. Still, after the initial shock and reflexive revulsion from such a glaring confirmation of my inhumanity, it became pretty fun to examine the world through so many sets of eyes.
And then, when I finally accepted and integrated each tendril into my perspective, did it finally click. Hazy outlines of long, tentacle-like appendages followed each movement of my perspectives. With effort, I was able to follow their designs into a translucent corona that surrounded my core. It looked almost like a plastic wrap bubble around my Core, fading in and out of existence that extended out in every direction my tendrils reached.
What was more interesting still was that in the corners of the room, huddled away from my exploring tendrils, were similar silhouettes. Only, instead of those silhouettes being of long, writhing limbs, they were each in the hazy outline of a human being; I couldn't tell any of the details, couldn't make out faces or foot sizes. Still, the outlines of two arms, two legs, and an upright head were easy enough to make out.
Reaching out tentatively, I touched one of those beings with one of my tendrils. Hesitantly, the end of the limb made the slightest contact and, shockingly, two things happened - first, that I could feel myself touch something, like something pressed against a finger that was writhing and alive. Second, the hazy silhouette recoiled away, slowly flowing across the ceiling and cowering on the other side of the room.
Quicker now, I clumsily wrapped my limbs around the fleeing spirit. It could not escape through the wall, and, as I grabbed it, my own limbs scraped against the corner of the room and stopped as though I too had struck a solid surface. Pulling the spirit to me, I could feel its cool incorporeal flesh against the surface of my tendrils as it tried to escape. However, comparatively, I was far too strong for it to do more than struggle helplessly, and it was clear that the tendrils wrapped around that form were designed for just this purpose.
Increasingly sure of myself, I dragged the soul toward the amber of my Core, stuffing it bodily into my surface. As soon as it touched the surface of the Amber, I felt a shock, and the spirit began to be pulled inside of me. I allowed it to be fully absorbed and waited, but as long seconds passed with nothing else happening, I belatedly zoomed in my vision to check the display of my status.
Consume Soul?
Rather than full status, with my missing name, affinities, and attributes, all that greeted me was a single prompt in large, bold letters. 'Consume Soul.'
Despite maybe having an inkling that it would be the case that any souls I captured would be consumed, having previously read my status and the descriptions of my skills, still, there was a discomfort shooting through me as I read those hard-hitting words. It wasn't so much that I felt revulsion or shock at the thought of consuming another thinking being's soul - instead, I felt pretty clearly like I should be feeling disgusted or shocked for contemplating such a crime against my fellow sentient. It was an absence of feeling that I felt even more clearly than the feeling itself, and before I could even process my thoughts, I found that the Status Prompt had taken my reaction as an answer.
Enslave Soul?
Despite the initial shock, the cold reality of my situation began to sink in as the prompt changed on its own. This super-powerful, Special ranked, Mythical Core body that I had chosen was going to consume my soul in some sixty years if I didn't find someone else to feed it. And, as much as enslaving someone was terrible and wrong, I couldn't even seem to work up an absence of guilt for considering agreeing to the bold prompt. Considering my options had been to work a job wherein I was harassed and demeaned and disciplined day in and day out, or to starve for so many years? I couldn't lie to myself and pretend that losing free will and dignity was something I hadn't come to terms with a long time ago.
[Pride] 1/12 - soul successfully captured.
Within the depths of my Amber Core, I could see one of the Opals surrounding the Quartz at my center shift hue, the transparent, glossy surface clouding over with a deep burnt olive tone. Reaching forward, I touched the surface of the Opal with a tendril, curious if it would have its own status now that it has, presumably, been filled. And I was not wrong, but before I could process the Status displayed in front of me, I heard a deep, familiar voice screaming in my head.
"I know Taiquando! You won't get away with this! Once I finish beating your ass, I'm going to turn around and sue you into the dirt, you hear me?"
"Kevin?" I whispered back, unsure how or even if I was talking but letting the strange instinct guide me. "Is that you?"
"Erin? Realy?" His voice was incredulous, still furious but now with a hint of contempt and desperation. "You have to get me out of here! You hear me? Get me out of here right now, or I'll dock your shifts for a month! I'll assign you to toilet duty every day for the rest of your life, understand!?!"
I pulled back in fear at his words before the Status that I was sure was there could even come into focus. Despite the lack of an anus, I felt my insides impossibly puckering in fear once again as he unleashed his fury at me. One might think that I would have been used to it by now, but rather, considering I never felt like I had a choice when I had been at that job, hearing him rant at me day after day had rendered me somehow even more susceptible to the terror he could instill, while likewise, I had learned to be better and better at hiding it behind a veneer of disinterest.
The yelling subsided immediately after my tendril was no longer in contact with the Olive toned opal. It took some time wherein I simply sat there and waited, savoring the quiet of the room, before I calmed myself down enough to think.
Tentatively, I reached out a tendril back toward Kevin's opal, slowly creeping closer and listening intently. It wasn't until my tendril brushed against the warming surface of his gem that his voice once again sounded in my mind.
Before I could hear a single word of what he was trying to say, I jerked back, an involuntary spasm of shock at suddenly having Kevin's raging voice in my head.
Tentatively, I reached out again, pulling away immediately upon hearing his voice. Again and again, I reached out and pulled away, my fear and shock turning to a grim sort of satisfaction. Slowly it dawned on me that I was actually the one in control here, that Kevin couldn't even so much as speak unless I let him, that he couldn't fire me or dock my pay or any of the other things he threatened to do to me on the daily. And, I had to admit, it felt good.
I eventually grew bored of playing with Kevin's prison, and my eyes began drifting back to the edges of the room and the semi-translucent spirits drifting therein. Awkwardly, I reached my tendrils out and began rounding them up, depositing them unceremoniously into my core with my unfamiliar limbs. Each soul that I claimed I refused to consume, not yet comfortable with how comfortable I was with the idea of eating them. Instead, my opals began to fill as each of the floating souls were claimed and imprisoned - each taking on rich blue, grey, red or white coloring, respectively.
[Pride] 5/12
I was hesitant, to say the least, to check each soul. Hearing the voice of my old boss, in no way subdued from death and supposed 'enslavement,' left me a bit jittery. It brought up old memories when I was trying very hard not to remember much of anything, my brain still feeling a bit overloaded with clashing lives and memories. And the last thing I wanted was additional trips down memory lane, depending on who was stored. I assumed that it would just be more people from the store and, while the idea that Milton would be one of my acquisitions tempted me to look, the idea that I might be wrong and my mother or father might be in there was enough to dissuade me for the time.
Instead, I reached out with my tendrils and started feeling along the walls, searching for a way out - hidden doors, ventilation shafts, shuttered windows, really anything that might allow me to see outside would be a gift. I liked books and trinkets, so I wasn't dissatisfied with my current circumstance as such, but the sheer oppression of four solid walls without a break or escape still had me feeling a bit claustrophobic.
My sense of time wasn't great, but I was reasonably confident I wasted days searching desperately along the walls, growing more and more agitated. I was engaged in curling half of my tendrils together into a single rope of bound strands, ready to attempt to hammer away at the walls until something gave way when finally I met with some kind of success.
There was a hole in the wall, one of my last probing tentacles discovered. It was small, maybe a hairs breath wide at most, and I could not tell if it was genuinely artificial or if it was just an overlooked crack that formed during construction. Still, the more I pushed and probed at it, tendrils stroking the odd gap in the wall like my tongue would have before, felt the hole left by a missing tooth.
My limbs would not fit in the hole, the gap was far too small for that, but the more I pushed and prodded at it, the more I realized that the spot was beginning to give. I did not see it widening or any cracks forming visibly in the wall in front of me. Yet, the more I played with it, the more confident I felt that if I got the angle just right, I would be able to sink my spirit limbs inside of it and escape the oppressive room of my rebirth. I just had to try just a little bit harder...