Five, six, eight, ten pale, jointed appendages punched through first. Then the head—fur-matted, eyeless—followed by the rest of it. The coat bristled with static; thin tendrils whipped out, tasting the air like insect antennae.
Up close the coat wasn’t soft; it was a matted armour of guard-fur over something harder, chitinous plates flashing between tufts whenever it moved. The tendrils feathered out and recoiled, cilia rippling as they sampled the thick Luminary Essence saturating the clearing.
It stood on six limb-columns, double-jointed and wrong, the joints flexing forward then sideways with insectile precision. Each tip split into a splay of narrow digits, pads ringed with tiny hooks that clicked against stone. A thin sheen filmed the contact points—some secreted gel—so when it shifted its weight it did so without sound, like rubber sliding over glass.
Slk-slk.
The smell hit next: wet hair scorched by ozone, sweet-metallic underneath, like spilled blood inside a storm. It let out a sound that wasn’t a growl so much as a layered rasp—air forced through hidden slits along the throat, breather ports opening and closing in slow, deliberate cadence.
Its face was worse. A mammal’s muzzle at first glance, but the lips peeled back, revealing a second, inner maw lined with sharp, valve-like teeth. From within, a long muscular tongue lashed outward—barbed along one side, flexible on the other—tasting the air.
No eyes that Arion could see. Just fur and those questing tendrils sweeping in constant arcs, mapping the world by touch and pressure.
A hybrid of insect and mammal, engineered by a joke with very bad taste.
Arion watched, caught between revulsion and cold fascination. But he wasn’t stupid. Vitalis surged through his veins, breath slowing, muscles coiling. Every nerve lit up.
The creature tore the rift wider, ripping itself from its reality into his—drawn by the rich Luminary Essence saturating the scarred ground. It forced its way through the narrow spatial wound.
Within seconds it was through, landing hard, then rising immediately. Its head turned in slow, deliberate arcs, tasting this new existence.
Then it froze.
Still as death.
It knew it was being watched.
It unfolded itself allowing Arion to finally understand its scale.
It stayed low at first—hunched and coiled—about a metre and a half at the shoulder. It unfolded. Shoulders first, then the spine unspooled in wet clicks until it stood three metres tall—gaunt, heavy, every proportion fighting itself.
From muzzle to haunch it stretched a little over three metres, gaunt yet heavy, its weight pressing a low groan from the stone. The proportions fought each other—shoulders too broad, hips too thin, every limb a little too long.
Big. Fast. A hundred kilos at least. Great…
And it doesn’t even need eyes to find me.
Its head snapped toward Arion.
Shit.
A chill clawed down his spine as its awareness locked on. They stood motionless, statues in the dying light.
Then—
A shard of ice cracked loose and fell—hitting the ground with a sharp, metallic sound.
Crack.
The creature tore forward across the scarred clearing, ten appendages pistoning, covering the distance with terrifying speed.
Arion bent low, Vitalis pulsing through his core. Luminary currents bent through the ice beneath him. The frozen ground responded—melting, rising, reshaping into water. He flung it forward with one hand while the other readied Frost Snap.
The wave surged—only for the abomination to twist, body swivelling unnaturally, joints and muscles bending like separate creatures moving in unison.
Arion blinked, startled, but only for a heartbeat.
The abomination rushed straight for him, uncaring for the pathetic splash. Arion side-rolled in panic as it barrelled past, missing him by a hair’s breadth and shattering the mirror-like surface into fresh cracks.
With all his wit and intellect, he… ran. Running like a maniac, chased by a rabid mutated dog.
The chase was on. Arion sprinted, feet slipping on the glassy obsidian, screaming. The abomination followed, its appendages scrabbling for purchase, sometimes failing to find friction on the slick surface.
“AHHH—”
Thud-thud-thud!
The two slid and skidded—one hungry, the other dinner—but Arion saw no joke in it.
“Fuck off back through your dimensional hole!”
I need to gain distance. He thought as he saw an opportunity coming up on his right.
He flew past an obsidian tree, grabbing it and swinging around to change direction instantly. The abomination lacked that luxury; it slid helplessly, appendages flailing, buying Arion precious seconds.
Think, you idiot! What’s the point of all this bloody intelligence if you just end up being eaten?
Arion spotted the crumbled ice barrier—now melted to water—some paces away on the far side of the charred expanse.
I’m not sure if my arsenal of spells can stop this thing.
He rolled, anticipating another lunge, then sprinted straight for the water.
For now, I need something that can hold it back….
The abomination flung itself at him, closer and closer. Sliding, Arion reached the melted ice just in time to avoid becoming dinner.
A plan B—improvised in the moment.
As he slid to the water he pulled every drop toward him. Vapour and steam spun under his command, condensing into a swirling film of boiling water—thin at first, then thicker as the spin accelerated. The denser it grew, the faster it rotated.
He turned his arms to face the abomination. It was about to smash into him but collided instead with the dense, rotating body of boiling water.
Motion slowed. Arion lay on his back, the creature impacting straight into the shield, scraping just above it. His body pressed hard into the black scar, fresh cracks spiderwebbing outward.
His face wore an expression of pure disgust—front-row seats to something he never wanted to see.
Unprepared, the abomination slid right off, momentum carrying it metres away, skidding across the obsidian.
A barrier of water…
Arion rose with the body of water, studying it.
This won’t work. No, I need a solid shield…
He commanded the water through Luminary Essence, his Vitalis acting as the medium of communication. It rotated faster, condensed, and shaped itself to his will.
Vhhhmm-sssshhhh
A shield formed—fluid and searing—anchored to his arm, Vitalis coursing through him and connecting to the flowing Luminary within. He skidded his back foot, sending a pulse down to freeze the ground beneath his boots. Solid footing. All within heartbeats.
Explosion of kinetic energy.
Water and steam detonated together.
The abomination crashed into the spinning shield; a shockwave rolled through the clearing—ice shattered, dirt erupted. Arion skidded back a step but held his stance.
Smell. Noise. Vibration—which is it?
Arion reset his stance, bracing for the next rush.
Doesn’t matter. It has the upper hand—that’s the issue.
This isn’t about strength; it’s endurance. I can’t keep this up indefinitely.
…It can.
He glanced at the rotating shield of boiling water, then at the abomination—its fur still smoking as it sprinted toward him again.
He crouched lower, grounding his weight. Harder. More stable.
The creature lunged, hurling itself forward, arms snapping back like springs for maximum power.
Six fists fell like hammers—pounding into the shield in rhythm, blacksmith to anvil.
Shockwaves rippled; dust rose in clouds.
Arion’s arm rattled, pain screaming into his shoulder. His face twisted.
Argh—fuuuck!
Okay! Maybe I was wrong!
They locked in stalemate—Arion holding firm while the creature hammered. Each strike sent rings of steam shooting outward.
When brute force failed, it clawed instead. The spinning water sliced through reaching talons, jets of steam blasting its face. It shrieked, reeling away.
Arion’s mind flashed.
Without hesitation he thrust his glowing hand toward the shield, Vitalis flaring bright.
Scald Burst.
The shield’s core flashed. Pressure peaked at the centre as rotation hit critical speed. The inner ring erupted, venting high-pressure steam in a spiralling ring that shot outward like a circular blast.
Overwhelmed, the abomination raised its arms, stumbling back from the searing torrent.
Arion punished the mistake.
He lunged, driving the shield into its upper body. Steam exploded on impact, keeping the creature stunned.
Arion roared, pushing his body to its limit.
They ploughed across the scarred ground, adrenaline pounding through him, until they slammed into an obsidian tree. The trunk cracked from the impact, fragments scattering.
Arion pushed harder, slamming again.
The abomination flailed, all six limbs whipping to dislodge him, but he held on. Steam scalded them both; claws tore shallow lines across his sleeves.
He grimaced. The shield’s rotation was slowing, its water depleting. He was running out of material—and time.
This won’t kill it.
Definitely stronger than the chicken.
Adapt or die.
He disconnected the shield but kept its rotation spinning—self-anchored, feeding on its own momentum.
Stepping back, he spread his arms wide—hands open, fingers splayed.
Like the hands of a clock, he turned them in opposite directions—motion precise, breath steady.
The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.
The world narrowed to heat and rhythm.
Stabilise rotation. Equalise pressure. Same framework as Heat Coil— just bigger.
An orange glow flared, faint at first, then sharp, outlining his arms in molten light. The air bent around him, rippling like glass. The ground hissed.
Focus the gradient...
Keep the symmetry.
He felt the resonance—the right frequency, vibrating through his bones.
His arms flashed, completing the circle in a heartbeat.
The macro-coil roared into existence, vibrating with violent stability, birthing radiant heat so dense it bent the air around him.
He compressed it—denser, flatter, faster.
The reaction hit threshold. The remnants of the water shield ignited, heat cascading outward in a shock-chain of hissing pressure and light. Steam erupted in all directions, a white wall consuming the battlefield.
The abomination staggered, fur singed and smoking. The spinning anomaly that had stunned it was gone, but it felt the new heat building.
Arion planted his foot forward. The steam parted.
VFFFFMMMMM!
His old barrier was gone, now replaced by something far deadlier.
A huge orange disc spun into view—Heat Coil, a rotating disc of death, roaring as it carved through the air.
He shoved it forward, Vitalis and muscle straining against its raw power.
The ground groaned beneath him as the disc bit in.
Reaching the creature within a second, the abomination had no chance to react to the obliterating heat roaring toward it.
Like an electric grinder on flesh, the roaring disc carved through the abomination—heat shearing fur and bone alike, sparks of molten tissue flaring with every rotation.
But the abomination was abnormally resilient. With its chitin-like plates slick under burnt fur and six arms, it resisted the grinder, the two forces meeting in visceral brutality.
Even as flesh vapourised it held its ground, driven by something beyond pain.
Arion gritted his teeth, every muscle screaming. The usual Heat Coil devoured a chunk of Vitalis; this monster was draining everything.
Vitalis burn incoming… need to… push harder.
And so he did—praying the other side broke before he did.
How is it still standing?!
S-shit!
His foot slipped. He was being pushed back. He’d underestimated its raw strength.
Even with the mother of all grinders, this thing’s still holding!
Face twisted, eyes shut, body trembling, his mind flashed to that first accident—the plasma burst that turned dinner into glass.
He exhaled through clenched teeth, eyes snapping open.
Overclocking it is.
Hands hovered dangerously close, every tendon screaming as he fought to keep the disc stable.
Tighten the confinement.
Smaller radius.
Denser.
His palms skimmed the surface. Orange flared to blinding white, a surgical star collapsing between his fingers.
Adjust the feed—Luminary Essence up fifty percent.
WHMMMMM!
“Gahhh—!” Pain lanced through his skull like his bones were splitting. Blood threaded from his nose.
The disc no longer roared; it pulsed, a newborn fusion heart devouring everything it touched. Vitalis burned white-hot in his veins. The air around it warped, rippling like molten glass.
Counter-spin.
“Eat—” His sentence cut off.
Light folded in on itself.
Then it unfolded.
A silent white inferno detonated outward.
The world flash-glassed in a heartbeat. Soil and black obsidian vitrified into a glistening splash radius—mirror-smooth sheets ten metres wide, edges still glowing cherry-red where partial melt pooled like spilled lava. The abomination’s bulk caught the full brunt; its silhouette burned into the obsidian tree in perfect, horrific contrast—every joint, every tendril etched as a shadow scar that would never fade.
The pressure wave slammed Arion first—air column exploding outward like a cannon shot—then reversed in the same breath, a savage vacuum tug yanking him off his feet. He flew backward, tumbling, until he smashed into a standing tree twenty metres away. Bark exploded off surrounding trunks in microfractured sheets, raining down like brittle confetti.
The air itself turned electric. Blue-white corona discharge crackled along the edges of the glassed crater.
Nearby stones began to hum. One cracked along a fresh stress line with a sharp ping, its crystalline structure realigned by the magnetic lash of raw Luminary feedback.
The ground was sterile now. No insects. No microbial rustle. Just absolute, ringing silence where life had been seconds ago.
Arion’s eyes were forced open, pinned against the tree by the dying pressure.
He watched his own creation carve the horizon—a white-hot blade slicing earth, rock, and reality itself. The abomination didn’t even get to scream; what little remained of it simply ceased, vapourised into superheated gas that fed the coil’s hunger.
Then the Plasma Coil collapsed.
The white star guttered out.
Arion dropped, slamming into the fresh glass. Strength gone. Body numb. The world tilted sideways and went dark.
The last thing he heard was the fading hiss of plasma bleeding into the atmosphere.
Hssssss…
…
..
.
—— ? —— —— ? —— —— ? ——
Black obsidian.
Darkness.
Searing white flame. Tunnelling vortex—
Then darkness again.
A groan. Agonising pain.
Crunch.
Steps crunching through the debris.
Body beaten, blood dripping.
Texture—planks of wood.
Foothold. Grab—pull.
The creak of wooden planks felt like needles to the ear.
A chair drops. Vision flickers.
The room rocks back and forth.
Consciousness fades, then the feeling of rough cloth and thin cushioning. Heaven compared to the obsidian ground before.
…
Time slipped by.
—— ? —— —— ? —— —— ? ——
Sunlight breached the cabin, tearing away the dark.
A wooden ceiling etched with sunlight.
A slow blink, then a few rapid ones.
Arion lay there, raising his arm, fingers flexing, making sure he wasn’t in another new body.
Still in one piece. Same body. Same cabin.
He let out a small relieved exhale.
That’s good…
He slowly scanned the small cabin and tried to peek through the doorway.
How long was I out for?
He pushed himself up, but pain stopped him—blinding, overwhelming.
Teeth clenched, face twisted, he winced and dropped back down. Groaning like a ninety-year-old climbing out of a recliner.
“If this was me from before, I’d be in the hospital, or dead.”
Studying his body, he assessed the damage.
“It hurts like hell, I look like hell… but, not as bad as I thought.”
The scientist in him emerged through the flickering pain.
“Does Vitalis absorb Luminary Essence? Could it trigger cellular replacement as the body recharges? Like some kind of luminary-panel battery hybrid…”
He paused.
If that’s true… I could calibrate it, tune efficiency, maybe even—
He stopped himself mid-thought.
Actually, let’s not blow myself up in the first few weeks.
Frowning, he exhaled and let the thought go.
He turned inwards, examining his Vitalis Circuitry throughout his body.
“It looks raw, thin, and lacking.”
He focused as Vitalis regenerated, pulsed through the circulation, then suddenly pulled outwards, absorbed into the body.
Is my Vitalis being used as a separate healing factor? Seems like my hypothesis was wrong.
He syphoned through the library of knowledge he had on the human body.
Autophagic Regeneration, on steroids…
“Interesting… I guess that means minimal spell casting for me.”
Then he filtered through his memories, as he remembered the fight with the abomination, something else surfaced.
“That nifty shield saved my ass. It's some kind of defence at least, but I definitely need something sturdier.”
Let’s also keep the Plasma Coil in the workshop for now… I can’t be throwing out suicidal fusion reactors every time a biological mistake shows itself.
Twin-headed birds timed their chirps perfectly outside.
In the end, it wasn’t triumph—just survival. Every win here felt like proof that the world wanted him gone.
Neither world seemed to want him.
…
Sunlight fell warm on his skin.
He lay there, more alone than usual.
“Sigh… at least in the old world they gave you morphine and a hot nurse. Here, all I get is obsidian splinters and existential dread…”
—— ? —— —— ? —— —— ? ——
Moonlight shone through where sunlight had been previously. Arion finally managed to get himself up, surprised by the body’s natural healing factor, though still groaning and aching, nowhere near back to normal.
After sloshing his waterskin, he was relieved to find there was still enough water inside. After gulping down the remainder, he stretched—awkwardly and painfully.
“Ahhhh… Ow. My everything…”
He winced with every step, muttering curses under his breath.
Slowly, he made his way down the crooked ladder, half-hoping it wouldn’t break and deal the last bit of damage to his lingering health.
As he reached the final plank, he chuckled to himself.
“Haha, now that would be—CRACK.”
The second plank snapped under his weight. He fell straight back, landing hard on the ground below.
“Owww—am I crazy or am I jinxed?”
It’s like it has a hatred for strange anomalies—
Crap!
He jumped up, ignoring his half-beaten condition, limping toward the scarred campground. What he saw confirmed that what happened wasn’t a nightmare.
“It’s still there.”
His eyes darted around the clearing, more importantly, behind him—a pure instinct overriding pain.
Silence.
Nothing. No more abominations seemed to have come through, and if they did, they weren’t here. Meaning they weren’t his problem.
“But it still can be…” he muttered, staring at the strange, reality-bending rip.
Raising his hand reluctantly, he moved what little Vitalis he could spare through his body, commanding the air around the ripple.
Arion drew the heat from the air; the temperature plummeted in a heartbeat. Vapour coiled around him in silver ribbons as Frost Snap took hold, every strand pulled toward a single point. The mist thickened, then hardened, each thread freezing mid-motion.
He planned an orb of ice to imprison the tear, compressing vapour inwards into its shape. Yet the Essence here was still rich and unstable, the pocket surrounding it seemed to destabilize as his shape started to take form.
Ice nucleation points multiplied uncontrollably, fighting his control and with little Vitalis, he had no way to fight it.
Growth vectors became anisotropic, pushing past any regular shape or symmetry. Crystallisation spiraled outward along energy lines.
What the—Is it following the Luminary current’s geometry?
Fractal branches burst outward, racing up the air like lightning captured in slow motion, while translucent roots plunged into the soil below. Luminary Essence coursed through the forming structure, veins of light running through a body of crystal.
In seconds an ice-born tree towered over him, its branches humming as it locked the rupture in place and sealed the chaos beneath a shell of frozen radiance.
“That’s not how I wanted it.”
Seems like Essence is still oversaturated in that pocket…
“I guess it'll do… but I doubt that’ll hold whatever crawls out next anyway.”
Arion scanned his new accidental ice-tree sculpture.
“But it’ll at least give me some sense of ease… for now.”
He swallowed, nerves still raw.
“Now let’s see the damage.”
He eventually made his way over to the scene that decided the fight of his life.
The landscape could only be described as if a massive drill had torn through it, half-buried, carving through the ground like a vortex and scorching the edges as it passed.
Arion followed the vortex-like wound. It spanned at least ten metres, slowly shrinking as if the disc had lost energy and started to dissipate. At the end of the destruction lay a crushed tree.
Squlch. Slop. Blop.
Boots stepped in something unsightly.
When Arion saw it, he immediately regretted his decision.
“Bluurrrgggghhh—” He doubled over, retching up whatever his stomach could give.
There lay the scene of an impact crater, a crushed tree and the abomination—or what was left of it. Its remains were strewn everywhere: blood, limbs, guts, what he could only call eggs, tendrils, burnt fur. Something he’d rather not look at.
“Ugh. Well, I’ll be damned—it took a magical fusion reactor to finally put you down.”
Tired and still beaten, he decided the best thing to do was retire for the day and rest.
—— ? —— —— ? —— —— ? ——
Three quiet days of frozen fish, minimal spell casting and spring soaks later…
Luckily with no more creepy abominations.
Fortunately, he still had some food to munch on until he recovered, though water would have to be retrieved from the river.
When the sun climbed toward midday, Arion decided on his afternoon soak.
He entered the small spring, feeling the effects immediately—the rejuvenating, Luminary-rich water clinging to his body, drawn to his Vitalis. As it healed the last of his wounds and bruises, he busied himself reading, going over the journal again.
This world’s too unpredictable. I’m completely in the dark, and I nearly paid for it…
I need intel—concrete data to let me prepare for unseeable problems.
His eyes slid over the adventurer’s entries, stopping at the last one.
“Filled with unmatched knowledge, recorded in his own sacred library. It was said he was obsessed with it—knowledge of this world.”
Arion sat there, pondering.
With a decisive action, he shut the journal.
Seems about time I venture out.
—— ? —— —— ? —— —— ? ——
Plasma Coil [Mother Variant]
Thermodynamics
Description:
Derivative of Plasma Coil. Counter-spin introduced during the overcompression phase triggered runaway resonance. Vitalis confinement collapsed inward; Luminary feedback sustained ionised plasma beyond threshold—fusion-class output.
Science:
Resonance inversion converts stable magnetic-like confinement into a collapsing pressure loop. Heat multiplies exponentially as the field cannibalises its own structure.
In Layman Terms:
I forced the Coil to eat itself. It became a miniature sunstorm—tore the landscape apart and nearly took me with it.
Maxim:
“Every creation waits to outgrow its maker.”
—— ? ——
Boiling Gyre
Hydrokinetics
Description:
I pulled every drop of water and vapour toward me, then set it spinning. Vitalis acts as the axis while Luminary Essence drives the motion. Faster and faster it rotated, condensing into a thick, searing shield of boiling water anchored to my forearm. Fluid on the surface, yet dense enough from centrifugal force to act almost solid.
Science:
Luminary modulates the angular velocity of water molecules with extreme precision. The resulting centrifugal acceleration compacts the fluid, dramatically increasing density and surface tension at the barrier’s edge. Simultaneous heat transfer keeps the entire construct at boiling point, creating a dual defensive layer of kinetic repulsion and thermal damage. Steam generation on impact further dissipates incoming force.
In Layman Terms:
I turned a load of melted ice into a spinning shield of scalding water on my arm.
Maxim:
“Even water forgets how to yield when you spin it fast enough.”
