The ceiling was cracked. I had memorized every fissure over the months—no, years. The longest one started near the rusted light fixture and branched toward the corner like a dried riverbed. I traced it with my eyes for the thousandth time. Maybe the ten-thousandth. Who counts anymore?
Below the crack, a small window. Too high to reach. Too narrow to squeeze through. But wide enough to show a slice of sky.
Today the sky was grey. It matched my mood.
I lay on a thin mattress that smelled of mold and old sweat. My left leg twitched. Nerve condition. The doctors had called it manageable. That was before my colleague decided I was more useful as a test subject than a partner.
Dr. Voss. I still saw his face when I closed my eyes. The smile. The coffee. The questions about my cellular regeneration theory. The way he nodded like he cared.
He stole everything. My research. My credibility. My freedom.
And now he lived in a clean apartment while I rotted in a basement laboratory. Every day, the injections. Every day, they tested my own ideas on me. The irony would be funny if it wasn't my body breaking down.
I heard footsteps. Two pairs. Heavy boots. They stopped outside the steel door. A key turned.
I didn't bother sitting up. It was the injection again. The one that made my heart race and my thoughts blur. They said it was for experimental validation. I said it was torture with a white coat.
The door swung open. Two men. One held a syringe.
"Subject is awake," the first one said, noting something on a clipboard. He never looked at my face. Only the chart.
The second man stepped forward. "Hold still. This will only hurt a little."
I laughed. It came out dry and broken. "That's what you said last time. And the time before. And the time before that."
The needle sank into my arm. Cold fire spread through my veins. My vision swam.
Through the blur, I saw the small window. A bird landed on the sill. A sparrow. It tilted its head and looked at me. For one heartbeat, I thought it understood.
Then it flew away.
Free, I thought. It's free. And I'm not.
The fire reached my chest. My heart stuttered.
The last thing I heard was the clipboard hitting the floor.
---
I opened my eyes.
No eyes. No body. Just awareness floating in an endless grey expanse. No up, no down, no walls, no windows. Only a flat, infinite nothing.
Am I dead? I thought. Or is this another experiment?
"Took you long enough."
The voice came from everywhere. I tried to turn, but there was nothing to turn. Only attention.
A shape flickered in front of me. It wasn't a person. It was a glitch—jagged lines, static bursts, fragments of form that never held. Sometimes it looked like a tall figure in robes. Sometimes a shattered mirror. Sometimes nothing at all.
I watched it for a long moment. If this is real, it's not human. If this is a hallucination, it's a creative one.
"What are you?" I asked. My voice sounded strange. Distant.
"I am what remains when the universe gets bored," the glitch-thing said. Its voice shifted pitch mid-sentence. High. Low. Both. "You may call me a god. It is imprecise but sufficient."
A god.
I stared at the flickering shape. Then something inside me snapped. Not fear. Not awe. Anger.
"A god?" I said. My voice rose. "You're a god? Then answer me. Why me? Why did you make me? Why did you put me in that rotting body? Why did you let them lock me in a basement and stab me with needles and steal everything I ever made?"
The glitch-thing tilted. It did not answer.
"Why did you create us to suffer?" I shouted into the grey. "Why give us minds that dream of freedom and then chain us to weak, breaking flesh? Why can't I be free? Why can't any of us be free?"
The void was silent. The glitch-thing watched me with its static eyes.
I kept going. The words poured out like bile. "I spent years staring at a cracked ceiling. Years watching a small window where birds flew past. Birds. They have wings. They can go anywhere. And I couldn't even stand without pain. My own body was my prison. And you—you made it that way. You made me weak. You made them cruel. And then you watched."
The glitch-thing shimmered. "You think I made you?"
"I don't know what I think. But you're here. You're a god. So explain it. Explain why I had to live like that. Explain why I had to die like that. Explain why there is so much suffering in the world you supposedly created."
The glitch-thing was silent for a long moment. When it spoke again, its voice was softer, almost human. "I did not create your world. I did not create your suffering. I am not that kind of god."
"Then what kind are you?"
"The kind that watches. The kind that gets bored. The kind that offers second chances to interesting souls."
I laughed. It was bitter and sharp. "Second chances. You mean reincarnation. I've read those stories. People get reborn as heroes. With magic and harems and easy lives."
The glitch-thing flickered. "Those stories are lies. I offer no easy life. I offer no hero's path. I offer only a seed. What grows from it is your responsibility."
"What seed?"
A window appeared in the void. Translucent blue text.
Metamorphosis Core Protocol
You have been selected for an experimental reincarnation.
Your new body will be a magical core.
You may transform this core into any physical form—stone, plant, animal, tool, or eventually greater things.
Your core is your true self. If it is destroyed, you will not die. You will cease. No afterlife. No void. Nothing.
Accept?
I read it twice. "A core. A magical battery."
"A seed," the god said. "You will absorb ambient mana to grow. At first, you will be weak. A marble. You can transform into small things—a pebble, a drop of water, a thorn. Nothing grand. But with time, patience, and a certain disregard for self-preservation, you may become anything you wish."
"Anything?"
"Anything. A tree. A wolf. A castle. A star, if you live long enough and consume enough."
I looked at the window again. "And if I refuse?"
"Then you dissolve into the grey. No pain. No awareness. Simply absence. It is not punishment. It is simply the end."
I thought about the cell. The cracked ceiling. The needle. The sparrow flying away.
"Why me?" I asked again. "You said I'm interesting. Why?"
The glitch-thing was silent. Then it said, "Because you did not beg. Because you watched the bird. Because you hate your cage more than you fear death. And because, in all my existence, I have never met a soul so perfectly suited to carry a core. You hate limits. The core has no limits. But freedom is dangerous. It will try to kill you. And you, I think, will enjoy the fight."
I stared at the glitch-thing. Then I laughed. A real laugh, sharp and defiant.
"Enjoy the fight," I repeated. "Fine. I'll take your seed. But I'm not doing it for you. I'm doing it because I refuse to let them win. I refuse to let my body win. I refuse to let the void have me."
I reached out—no hand, but I reached anyway—and touched the window.
Acceptance registered.
Initiating metamorphosis.
Warning: Core placement is random. You will awaken in a location of high ambient mana. This is not always safe.
Good luck.
The grey shattered into light.
Not safe, I thought. Good. Safe is what killed me.
---
I woke to darkness and the smell of wet stone and rotting meat.
No. Not darkness. I had no eyes to see darkness. I had no nose to smell. But I could sense. A sphere of awareness around me, maybe a foot in diameter. Inside that sphere, I felt rough fabric, the pressure of other objects, and a faint vibration that I understood as movement.
I was inside a sack. A moving sack. Someone—something—was carrying me.
I tried to move. Nothing. I tried to speak. Nothing. I was a crystal. A marble-sized crystal, cold and smooth, lying among junk.
A system window appeared in my mind.
Current status: Metamorphosis Core (Level 1)
Energy: 5/100
Ambient mana absorption: 0.1% per hour
Transformations available: None (insufficient energy)
Note: Your core is your true body. You cannot move independently. You can only perceive your immediate surroundings. To interact with the world, you must possess an external object.
I read the words carefully. Possess an external object. That was the key. The god had said I could become anything. But first I needed energy. And to get energy, I needed to absorb ambient mana.
Right now, I had almost nothing. Five out of a hundred. A battery on the verge of death.
The sack lurched. A grunt. The vibration changed. I felt myself being lifted, then dropped onto a pile of hard, clinking objects.
Metal. Coins. Gems. I was in a treasure hoard.
I extended my awareness. The sack had been emptied into a larger space. The air—if you could call it air—was thick with a faint, tingling sensation. Magic. Mana. It seeped into me like heat from a fire.
The system window updated.
High-density mana sources detected. Absorbing...
Energy: 6/100... 7/100... 8/100...
The absorption was faster now. Not fast enough, but faster.
I heard voices. Grunting, chittering sounds. Not human. Goblins.
I focused my perception. Three of them, standing near the pile. One was large and carried a crude club. Another was small and kept scratching its armpit. The third wore a necklace of bones and held a glowing crystal.
The shaman. I had read enough fantasy to recognize the type.
The shaman pointed at the pile where I lay. He said something in a language I did not understand. Guttural. Harsh. The other two goblins nodded and began sorting through the treasure.
One of them picked up a rusted dagger. The other grabbed a handful of copper coins.
And then the shaman's crystal swept over me.
The crystal glowed brighter. The shaman stopped. He stared directly at my core.
He sees me, I thought. Or senses me.
The shaman spoke. The other goblins looked at him, then at the pile. They began searching more carefully.
I needed to move. I needed to hide. But I could not move. I could only absorb mana and wait.
Energy climbed: 15/100... 20/100... 25/100...
A new system message.
Energy sufficient for basic transformation.
Available forms (Level 1):
- Pebble (cost: 10 energy, duration: 1 hour)
- Acorn (cost: 10 energy, duration: 1 hour)
- Dewdrop (cost: 5 energy, duration: 30 minutes)
- Possess small object (cost: varies, requires contact)
Possess. That was the word. I could possess an object if I touched it.
I looked at the objects around me. Coins. A broken necklace. A rusted dagger.
The dagger. It was sharp. It could cut. It could hurt.
The goblin who had picked up the dagger tossed it back onto the pile. The dagger landed near me. Almost touching.
I extended my awareness. A new window.
Possess rusted dagger?
Cost: 40 energy
Duration: 1 hour
Success chance: 95%
Note: While possessing an object, your core resides inside it. If the object is destroyed, your core is exposed and vulnerable.
I had 32 energy. Not enough.
The goblins were getting closer. The shaman was chanting.
I absorbed faster. 33... 34... 35...
The small goblin reached into the pile. Its clawed hand brushed against my core. I felt a jolt of fear—if they pick me up, they'll know—but it grabbed a copper coin instead and moved on.
38... 39... 40.
I initiated possession.
The world snapped. Suddenly I was not a crystal on a pile. I was a blade. I felt the rust on my edge, the wobble in my hilt, the weight of my metal. I could see—not with eyes, but with a vibration sense that mapped the cave in grey outlines.
The dagger lay on the pile. I could feel my core pulsing inside the hilt.
I tried to move. The dagger twitched.
The goblins stopped. They stared.
I focused. Lift. Lift.
The dagger rose an inch off the pile. Then two inches. Then it hovered, trembling.
The small goblin shrieked.
I lunged. The dagger flew through the air and buried its tip into the goblin's foot.
The creature howled. It hopped backward, knocking over the larger goblin. The shaman shouted and raised his crystal.
I yanked the dagger free and spun. The larger goblin swung its club. I dodged—barely—and stabbed its hand. The club fell.
Chaos. The goblins were fighting each other now, blaming, shoving. I did not wait. I dropped the dagger and reverted to my core form. A marble-sized crystal, rolling off the pile, bouncing into a dark corner.
The shaman was shouting orders. The other goblins were too busy screaming about the flying dagger to listen.
I hid under a broken shield. My energy was down to 5 again. But I was alive.
A system window appeared.
Experience gained.
Level 2 unlocked.
New transformation available: Thorn (cost: 15 energy, duration: 20 minutes)
Energy capacity increased to 120.
I absorbed the message. A thorn. Small. Sharp. Easier to hide than a dagger.
The shaman was searching the pile now, his crystal sweeping methodically. It would find me soon.
I looked at the corner behind me. A crack in the cave wall, just wide enough for a marble.
I rolled.