I woke to silence.
Not the comfortable kind—the kind that settles in after a long day—but the heavy, absolute stillness that made it feel like the world was holding its breath.
For a moment, I didn't move.
Soft sheets. A wide bed. Canopy curtains faintly visible through half-lidded eyes. Morning light filtered in through tall windows, pale and cool.
My room.
Not Earth. Not the bathtub. Not the moment of agony when something inside me cracked.
I exhaled slowly and pushed myself upright.
My body felt… strange.
Not weak exactly. Still heavy, still untrained—but there was a tightness beneath my skin now, like coiled wire. As if something vast was compressed inside me, restrained by rules rather than incapacity.
Then it hit.
A sharp, stabbing pressure behind my eyes—followed by a cascade of translucent panels slamming into my vision one after another.
[ERROR]
[ERROR]
[ERROR]
[WORLD AUTHORITY CONFLICT DETECTED]
[TALENT AMPLIFICATION FAILED]
[REASON: TARGET TALENT SEALED / LIMITLESS ANOMALY]
I hissed and clutched my temples.
"Slow down," I muttered. "One at a time."
The panels didn't listen.
[ATTEMPTING CURSE INTERACTION…]
[ERROR: CURSE IS NOT NATURAL]
[SOURCE: WORLD WILL – OVERRIDE CLASSIFICATION]
My heart thudded.
"So you know," I whispered. "Good."
The screens flickered violently, text distorting for a split second as if the system itself was recalculating something it had never been designed to face.
Then—
[FORCED RESOLUTION PROTOCOL ENGAGED]
[CURSE RELEASE INITIATED]
The air in the room dropped ten degrees.
I sucked in a sharp breath as pain flooded my chest—not burning like last night, but crushing, as if invisible hands were peeling layers off my soul. My vision blurred. The bed creaked under me as my muscles tensed involuntarily.
I bit down hard, refusing to scream.
Images flashed behind my eyes.
Chains.
Not physical—conceptual. Vast, interlocking sigils carved directly into my existence. Each one stamped with authority older than nations.
And then—
They shattered.
Not all at once.
Cracks spread, fractures spiderwebbing across the restraints as something else surged upward—raw, formless, endless.
For half a heartbeat, I felt it.
My true talent.
Limitless wasn't a metaphor.
It wasn't even a measurement.
It was the absence of a ceiling.
The sensation vanished as abruptly as it appeared, like the ocean glimpsed through a closing door.
I collapsed back against the pillows, chest heaving.
The panels stabilized.
[WORLD CURSE: REMOVED]
[WARNING: TALENT AMPLIFICATION STILL IMPOSSIBLE]
[REASON: TARGET TALENT EXCEEDS SYSTEM MULTIPLICATION PARAMETERS]
I let out a shaky laugh.
"So you can't double infinity," I murmured. "Fair enough."
Another panel slid into place—this one calmer, more deliberate.
[COMPENSATION REQUIRED]
[UNUSED AUTHORITY DETECTED]
[ALTERNATIVE REWARD: SKILL CREATION x3]
I stilled.
"Skill creation?"
[YES]
[NOTE: CREATED SKILLS WILL BE UNIQUE AND IRREVOCABLE]
[RECOMMENDATION: PROCEED WITH CAUTION]
Three skills.
Not abilities handed down by the world. Not techniques refined over centuries.
Rules I could write.
My pulse quickened.
Then common sense—hard-earned and bitter—asserted itself.
"Let me guess," I said dryly. "I can't just make 'I win' as a skill."
[CONFIRMED]
[SKILLS MUST CONFORM TO INTERNAL LOGIC, COST, AND BALANCE]
I snorted. "Of course."
I leaned back against the headboard, staring at the canopy above as I thought.
Power for power's sake was tempting—but dangerous. Flashy abilities drew attention. Attention drew fate. Fate drew them.
I needed control.
I needed subtlety.
I needed to survive long enough to change things.
"Let's start with concealment," I said quietly.
The panel pulsed.
[DEFINE SKILL PARAMETERS]
I closed my eyes and pictured what I wanted—not strength, not dominance, but absence. The ability to exist without ripples. To act without being seen, heard, or felt.
Words formed naturally.
"Sovereign of Silence."
The air seemed to thicken.
[SKILL CREATION IN PROGRESS…]
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then—
[SKILL CONFIRMED]
Sovereign of Silence (Unique / Domain-Type Passive-Active Skill)
Effect:
The user may nullify sound, mana fluctuations, and emotional intent within a controlled radius.
Spoken words cannot be heard or recorded.
Mana signatures collapse or fail to form.
Killing intent, hostility, and emotional pressure are suppressed.
Additional Effects:
• Spellcasting within the domain becomes unstable or impossible.
• Detection skills reliant on emotion, mana, or intent fail.
Usage:
• Toggleable
• Radius scales with control and mastery
Cost:
• Sustained mana drain proportional to radius and duration
Note:
The world itself is forced into silence.
I opened my eyes slowly.
"…That's dangerous," I murmured.
Not because it was weak.
Because it was perfect.
Secret meetings. Assassinations. Training without observers. Even moments where the world simply… went quiet.
And something told me it would grow far more terrifying with mastery.
"One down," I said softly.
Two remained.
The second was harder.
I tried.
I really did.
I attempted to conceptualize absolute offense. Reality-cutting blades. Instant death curses. Authority over blood, time, causality.
Every attempt was met with the same response.
[ERROR: COST EXCEEDS ACCEPTABLE PARAMETERS]
[ERROR: SKILL VIOLATES CAUSALITY SAFETY THRESHOLD]
[ERROR: SKILL REQUIRES EXTERNAL AUTHORITY]
I laughed, rubbing my face.
"So you do have limits."
I thought back to the game. To how I died.
Not because I lacked ambition—but because I lacked options.
Raw power was unreliable.
What I needed was leverage.
A way to temporarily bridge the gap between myself and monsters… without pretending I could do it for free.
Slowly, an idea formed.
Not a skill that gave power.
A skill that traded it.
"Crimson Vow," I said.
The panel flickered—once, twice—then paused, as if the system itself were wary.
[WARNING: SELF-BINDING CONTRACT SKILL DETECTED]
[THIS TYPE OF SKILL IS IRREVERSIBLE]
[PROCEED?]
"Yes," I said without hesitation.
Crimson Vow (Unique / Forbidden Contract Skill)
Type: Self-binding / Conditional Ascension
Nature: Absolute
Description:
Crimson Vow allows the user to temporarily exchange something of equal or greater value—mana, rank, bodily function, memories, emotions, lifespan, or future potential—in return for short-term power amplification.
The exchange is enforced by the world itself.
The vow cannot be broken, altered, or cheated.
As the information poured in, my breath grew shallow.
Rank exchange. Mana core sacrifice. Physical overdrive. Escalating price.
This wasn't a safety net.
It was a guillotine with a handle.
Power, yes—but only for someone willing to bleed for it. Someone willing to sacrifice what heroes clung to.
Perfect.
I swallowed as the final line appeared.
[NOTE: THE VOW REMEMBERS EVERY DEBT]
A chill ran down my spine.
"…Good," I whispered. "So will I."
The system locked the skill in place.
Two skills created.
One remaining.
I didn't rush this one.
I thought about the academy. About inspections, rankings, noble scrutiny, and monsters disguised as classmates.
I thought about how dangerous it would be if the world knew what I truly was.
"I need to lie," I said simply. "Not with words. With reality."
The panel pulsed.
[DEFINE SKILL PARAMETERS]
I exhaled.
"A skill that allows me to hide my rank and talent. Perfectly. At will."
Silence stretched.
Then—
[SKILL CONFIRMED]
False Crown (Unique / Concealment Skill)
Effect:
The user may freely alter how their rank, talent, and mana presence are perceived by others and by detection systems.
• Can display any rank or talent equal to or lower than true values
• Suppresses passive leaks and instinctive pressure
• Immune to forced appraisal below World-class authority
Usage:
• Toggleable
• No mana cost
Note:
Even the world can be made to look away.
The panels faded.
I sat there in the quiet room, heart steady, mind clearer than it had been in two lifetimes.
I hadn't gained raw power.
Not yet.
But I had gained control.
I swung my legs off the bed and stood, walking toward the mirror.
Fourteen. Overweight. Black hair. Red eyes.
Still the same on the surface.
But now…
I reached out mentally and toggled False Crown.
A faint pressure passed through me, like a veil settling.
If anyone looked at me now, they would see exactly what the world expected.
A cursed, mediocre heir.
I smiled faintly.
Far away—far beyond the sky, beyond the lattice of rules that governed mortals—something stirred.
Beings of authority stared down at the threads of fate they monitored so carefully.
And for the first time in countless cycles…
They felt something unfamiliar.
Shock.
He should not have been able to do that.
The curse is gone.
The compensation was diverted.
He bound himself instead of accepting power.
He chose restraint.
He chose debt.
One presence, older and colder than the rest, observed in silence.
This mortal is dangerous.
I turned away from the mirror and toward the window, where the morning sun spilled gold across the estate.
"Good," I murmured.
"Because this time…"
My reflection stared back—calm, resolved, unafraid.
"…I won't lose quietly."