When the Collector offered Soren access to his most treasured vault of medicinal plants, Soren remained calm on the surface.
After all, he already had a Herb Garden Base, that grew stronger and unlocked rarer flora as his mission system evolved.
But that composure didn't last long.
As he stepped inside the Collector's personal garden, even Soren had to pause.
Suspended in shimmering glass canisters and cultured in glowing nutrient baths were rows upon rows of strange and magnificent plants, some with writhing vines that shimmered like starlight, others pulsing softly as if breathing.
A few were instantly familiar, ones he'd seen catalogued in his herb garden system. But many… weren't.
In fact, several specimens weren't even listed in any unlocked records.
"This… this is..."
"Just this vault is worth a solar system. At least." He slowly exhaled.
A rare, genuine smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
"I'll admit it—your reputation as The Collector? Fully deserved. If you told me you were a master apothecary, I'd believe it without blinking."
The Collector, lit up like a child given praise by a parent. Truth be told, most beings groveled before him, trying to curry his favor. But Soren… Soren was different.
What pleased him most wasn't the compliment, it was that Soren meant it.
While speaking, Soren casually pulled out the spatial gem container the Collector had gifted him earlier.
With a wave of his hand, the air around him stirred, and dozens of rare medicinal plants lifted into the air, glass pods, nutrient bases, and all.
They floated, twirled once, then vanished into the vast interior of the gem space with a soft shimmer.
He was transplanting entire micro-environments, preparing a portable medicinal garden for his base back on Macaluso Island.
In a matter of minutes, large portions of the Collector's prized garden were neatly stripped, leaving behind only empty platforms and a few untouched rarities.
And yet, the Collector still didn't look the least bit upset.
No... He looked thrilled.
His eyes sparkled behind his ornate visor.
"He's happy… Good. Very good." Taneleer muttered to himself, trying not to grin too hard. "It seems even someone like him can't resist true treasure."
Then, adopting a casual tone, he finally broached the subject that had been burning in his mind the entire time.
"Soren, you've taken what you like, and I'm honored by that. Truly. And in the future, should I come across more rare herbs… I'll make sure they go straight to you." He chuckled lightly.
"You won't even have to ask."
Soren glanced back, curious where this was going.
The Collector cleared his throat and added with studied nonchalance.
"So, ah… about that magical medicine of yours. I wouldn't dare ask you to brew it every time, of course. But, if you could just share the formula, I'd be more than happy to have my people prepare it under strict supervision."
"That way, I don't have to bother you all the time."
Soren smirked, already expecting this moment.
There it is. The old fox finally shows his hand.
He turned slowly and said with amused calm.
"Collector… your generosity is impressive. Far more than I expected. And to honor that, I'll tell you the truth."
He raised both hands.
"Yes, I'll give you the formula. No problem at all. But you should know…"
He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping just enough to carry a quiet authority.
"Even with the full recipe in hand, no one but me can make it."
The Collector blinked. "Oh? Is that so?"
Soren shrugged.
"It's not just the ingredients or the proportions. There's an alchemical resonance involved. A soul imprint, if you will."
"Without it, the brew becomes inert."
He flashed a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.
"You could give the formula to a thousand master alchemists, and they'd all come back with colored water."
Upon hearing Soren's calm declaration, the Collector cursed silently.
'Arrogant little brat…' He forced a smile. Outwardly, he maintained his usual air of dignity and amusement, but inside, irritation simmered.
To him, the idea that only Soren could brew a potion, even with a complete formula, was laughable.
He had entire fleets of interstellar laboratories, dozens of advanced civilizations under his influence, and hundreds of top-tier pharmacologists and alchemists working under his banner.
What couldn't they recreate?
But Soren didn't bother arguing.
He simply extended his hand.
A surge of radiant blue energy flared to life, elegant and precise, flowing from his palm like liquid light. Ancient sigils danced in the air as he summoned a sheet of enchanted parchment.
"Here's the recipe," Soren said coolly, handing it to the Collector.
"Also… since your herb vault is quite complete, I'll make a sample right here. Watch closely."
Collector's brows twitched, but he held his tongue and leaned in, watching intently.
Soren moved smoothly, picking out ingredients from Collector's own collection, each one responding to his touch with a faint shimmer.
He crushed, extracted, blended, and distilled with practiced efficiency, the blue energy from his hands infusing every step with an otherworldly resonance.
Strange runes pulsed faintly in the air with each movement.
Meanwhile, the Collector observed everything, ingredients, timing, proportions, even Soren's posture, while occasionally glancing down at the parchment.
But the deeper the process went, the more a frown crept onto his face.
The steps weren't impossibly complex. The formula, while intricate, wasn't indecipherable.
But the energy, that alien force Soren channeled, was something else entirely.
He couldn't replicate it.
Couldn't understand it.
Finally, Soren lifted a small crystalline vial. Inside it swirled a luminous liquid, shimmering like a dream trapped in glass. The colors danced in slow motion, ethereal and hypnotic.
"Done." Soren said simply, handing it over.
The Collector accepted it with both hands, staring into the glowing liquid with barely concealed longing. He didn't even need to test it.
One look told him it was exactly what he had consumed before. The same addictive brilliance.
Soren smiled faintly, reading his mind.
"Don't worry. I'll brew more when the time comes. But if you want to try your hand at making it… be my guest."
He gave a mocking half-bow and turned to leave.
"The wool's on the sheep, after all." Soren added under his breath as he stepped away, vanishing into the corridor.
Later, back at the towering headquarters ofTivan Interstellar Industries, the Collector stormed into the main command chamber.
"Summon every senior pharmacologist in the empire!"
Within an hour, a dozen of the finest alchemists and pharmacologists in the galaxy stood assembled, beings of various races, ages, and intellect, all revered in their own domains.
They bowed deeply as the Collector entered.
Without preamble, he held up the vial of Soren's potion.
"This!"
"It is the most exquisite substance I have ever encountered. This formula!" he held up the parchment, "and these materials~"
Crates of ingredients materialized beside him. "Are your challenge."
He looked them over with piercing eyes.
"Recreate this potion, and the one who succeeds will become my Imperial Chief Pharmacist. You will answer to no one but me."
"Unlimited resources. Unparalleled status. Immortality, if necessary."
Gasps rippled through the gathered scientists.
Their eyes lit up some in awe, others in ambition. Being named Chief Pharmacist to an Elder of the Universe was an honor beyond dreams.
And so, the challenge began.
Dozens of machines hummed to life. Analytical probes scanned the ingredients. Molecular decoders mapped the potion's structure.
Recordings of Soren's brewing process were studied frame by frame. The brightest minds in pharmacology dove into the task with feverish enthusiasm.
But as the hours passed…
Their confidence began to erode.
Something was missing.
The materials were accurate. The steps made sense. The formula was sound.
But the results were dull, lifeless failures. The colors were off. The consistency was wrong. The potency was nonexistent.
And hovering above it all was the memory of that strange, glowing energy flowing from Soren's hand…
Meanwhile, alone in his private chamber, the Collector stared into his potion vial like a man possessed.
He took a small sip.
And sighed.
"I hate that damn guy." Reclining into his velvet throne.
꧁𓊈𒆜༺⚜༻𒆜𓊉꧂
PhantomDream