The same ceiling. The same furniture in the same room — the cursed starting point of every nightmare.
Mike's eyes wandered across the walls, tracing every familiar crack, every dull shadow, until they stopped, resting on the only anchor that kept him from breaking.
"Mio…" His voice was low, steady, almost fragile.
"Y-Yes, Mikey?" she answered, her tone soft as always, goddess-like warmth wrapping around his name.
His lips curved into the faintest ghost of a smile. "I think we can do it… this time."
Mio blinked. "Do… what?" Her brows furrowed, confusion clouding her storm-colored eyes. To her, he had just woken from a seizure; his words felt too heavy, too certain, too strange.
Mike didn't answer. In one sudden motion, he swung his legs off the bed and stood. The air in the room shifted, an invisible weight clinging to him.
"Mikey?" she pressed, worry seeping into her voice.
He didn't look back. "I'll be back in less than a second, okay?"
"What?! Wai—"
Warp!
Before Mio could even take a step toward him, he was gone — consumed by a swirling blue distortion that split the air like shattered glass.
The room fell silent, her half-formed protest echoing in the emptiness he left behind.
Mio's hand lingered in the air, trembling, her storm aura flickering faintly at her fingertips. "...Mikey…" she whispered again, softer this time, her voice equal parts sweet and aching.
Mike stood in a dreamlike blue expanse that stretched on forever. No walls. No ground. Just endless space.
One section was filled with neatly arranged items — boxes of food, clothes, and crates of varying sizes, each containing something of importance.
"Heh." He chuckled, a proud grin tugging at his lips. "So everything I put in this storage space… regresses with me, huh?"
In one of his past loops, Mike had learned a spatial technique — Pocket Dimension. Infinite capacity, but limited to himself and non-living objects.
"First things first," he muttered, hand to his chin as he paced. "System, view Ability List."
#INITIATING COMMAND — VIEWING ABILI—#
Suddenly, the system's voice cracked, static-filled and jagged.
#ERROR — FORCED EVOLUTION DETECTED#
#INITIATING EVOLUTION#
"Huh? What the— Urgh!!" His words cut off as searing agony ripped through him.
"Aaargghhh!!"
He collapsed, writhing as multicolored auras flickered violently around his body. Each hue radiated one of his accumulated powers:
A deep blue of kinetic force.
A pulsing green, unknown in origin.
A harsh silver-grey surge.
A faint, steady yellow glow.
And then… balance.
#SYSTEM EVOLUTION COMPLETE#
The chime echoed in the void, sharp and final.
The static cleared, and the new voice rang out — no longer flat and mechanical, but warm, steady, and achingly familiar.
⟦ Designation awaiting… What will you call me, Master? ⟧
Mike froze. His chest tightened. The tone, the cadence, even the softness of the vowels — it was Mio's voice. Exactly Mio's voice.
"…Why the hell do you sound like my Mio?" he muttered, half-angered, half-staggered.
⟦ This form was chosen for you, Master. During evolution, the system adapts to the host's psyche. It selected the voice you most trust… the one you most long to hear. ⟧
Mike swallowed hard. His silver eye glimmered faintly, the echo of her words stirring something deep and hollow inside him. For a long moment, he said nothing.
Then he exhaled slowly, letting his thoughts drift. An evolution… a new stage. Something brighter, sharper, reborn out of ruin. A new star in the dark.
His lips curved faintly. "Nova," he said at last. "You'll be Nova. A star that shines after everything collapses."
⟦ Understood, Master. Designation accepted. I am Nova. ⟧
Her words rang like a vow — Mio's voice, but bearing the calm authority of something greater than memory.
⟦ Notice—Master, your initial command will now be carried out. ⟧
⟦ Pulling up the Ability List. ⟧
A golden celestial tablet unfolded before him, glowing with radiance. No longer the flat blue interface he once knew — this one shimmered with divine authority.
[ ABILITY LIST ]
[-Unregistered (Innate) Abilities-]
1: Monarch of Time (Rank ???)
Absolute dominion and authority over Time.
Techniques: Body Acceleration, Time Travel, Time Slow/Freeze, Time Rewind/Regression (upon death).
Mastery: 20%
2: Monarch of Space (Rank ???)
Absolute dominion and authority over Space.
Techniques: Teleportation, Pocket Dimension.
Mastery: 5%
Title acquired: Monarch of Space and Time
[-Registered (Acquired) Abilities-]
1: Telekinesis (Rank A → SR+^)
Manipulation of matter with the mind.
Capacity: 1 ton → 23.84 quadrillion tons^
2: Cerebrum Fortis (Unbreakable Mind — Rank S+)
Immunity to mental abnormalities such as fear and psychic attacks. Maintains focus and rationality under all conditions.
Skill: Telepathy — enables mental communication with allies.
3: Apex Form (Rank SSS)
Massively amplifies physical stats, scaling by percentage. However, inadequate stamina risks severe backlash.
Capacity: 0 / 10,000%
Safe usage without backlash: 5%
Note: Each 1% = ×10 base stats, stacking multiplicatively.
4: Monarch's Eyes {Chronicles Eye — evolved under Monarch title/abilities} (Rank SS)
Grants Absolute True Vision (see through illusions, lies, abilities, and essence). Includes X-ray vision and hidden detection.
Evolution Effect: Battle Foresight — glimpse 5 seconds into the future.
"I guess the pain from before was worth it," Mike muttered, a rare smile stretching his lips.
He scanned the list again. "Everything looks good, but… Battle Foresight? How do I—huh?"
Heat spread across his right eye. Not painful — calming, almost serene.
The eye flickered with divine light, shifting from blue to a soft golden-yellow, marked with a clock-like pattern.
"I don't feel any different," he murmured, touching it lightly. "What was that surge then?"
⟦ Notice — this skill can only be activated in battle. ⟧
Nova's voice soothed him, mechanical yet strangely dear.
"That makes sense. It is called Battle Foresight," he mumbled, realization dawning.
"Let's move on to—"
⟦ Pulling up the status window. ⟧
Mike blinked. Eyes widened. (...Is it reading my mind now?)
[ STATUS WINDOW ]
Name: Mike Morgan
Race: ??????
Age: 17+
Strength: 1
Agility: 0.5
Intellect: 2
Stamina: 1
Constitution: 1.5
Physical Skills: Non-athletic
Mental Skills: Quick Thinking, Extreme Focus
Tip: Training or defeating monsters can add stat points.
Mike studied the familiar numbers, lips curling faintly. "Another mental skill, huh?" His chuckle carried no joy, only realization.
Even despair could bear fruit.
"Well then… let's level up these puny stats, shall we?"
With a thought, several large crates appeared before him. He opened one, pulling out a crimson crystal, faintly pulsing with otherworldly energy.
"Even with time frozen in here, absorbing just one crystal the normal way would take forever…" He sighed. "There's gotta be a faster way."
⟦ Notice — a more efficient absorption method is available. ⟧
Nova's voice fell like salvation.
"…Huh?!"
⟦ Master, do you wish to apply this method? ⟧
"If there aren't any side effects, then… hell yeah!" Mike roared, anticipation gleaming in his eyes.
⟦ Processing… New Skill created: Crystal Absorption. ⟧
⟦ Absorption Initiated. ⟧
The red crystal collapsed inward, devoured by a miniature black hole in Mike's palm.
[DING! — Strength +1]
Strength: 2^
Mike's grin widened. In some loops, humanity had discovered "crystal cultivation" — long, tedious absorption through meditation. A day's effort for barely ten crystals.
Now, with Nova's help, he had cut it down to a second.
He had stockpiled thousands.
"Nova… how many crystals do I have?"
⟦ Master, your reserves are as follows: 1,340 red, 989 blue, 1,506 green… and one black crystal. Total: 3,836. ⟧
Mike's grin turned feral. He already knew their worth.
Each red crystal = +1 Strength.
Each blue crystal = +1 Agility.
Each green crystal = +1 Stamina.
The black crystal = ability enhancement — rare beyond compare.
He wasn't just sitting on treasure. He was sitting on evolution.
"Start mass absorption," Mike commanded.
⟦ Initiating mass absorption. ⟧
The void erupted with light. Crystalline streams tore through the silence, slamming into Mike like meteors. Power rippled through his veins, sharp and intoxicating.
[DING! — Strength +1]
[DING! — Agility +1]
[DING! — Stamina +1]
…
…
The notifications cascaded endlessly until they cut off with a final chime.
⟦ Notice — Stat absorption has reached the current body limit. Further increases are not possible without physical adaptation. ⟧
Mike staggered, chest heaving. He lifted his hand, flexing it slowly. Veins bulged faintly, glowing with a subtle golden pulse before fading. His muscles felt denser, heavier, as if each fiber had been reforged under divine pressure.
He tightened his fist — air cracked like brittle glass.
His stance shifted, effortless balance flowing into his limbs. Reflexes sharper, awareness heightened — his body was no longer sluggish human flesh but a honed vessel trembling with untapped potential. Even his heartbeat had changed, steady and thunderous, echoing like a war drum in his chest.
"...Fifty." He muttered, eyeing the window. "This… this is what fifty feels like?"
⟦ Correct. Your physical form can currently stabilize only fifty points per stat. Any more would cause catastrophic backlash. Training is required to expand this capacity. ⟧
Mike opened his Status Window again:
[ STATUS WINDOW ]
Name: Mike Morgan
Race: ??????
Age: 17+
Strength: 50 ↑
Agility: 50 ↑
Intellect: 2
Stamina: 50 ↑
Constitution: 1.5
Physical Skills: Non-athletic (locked to progression)
Mental Skills: Quick Thinking, Extreme Focus
Tip: Further crystal absorption requires body refinement.
He exhaled slowly, his silver-yellow eyes narrowing. Every nerve sang with power, yet it was barely contained, like a storm bottled inside fragile glass. "So this is my wall, huh? No shortcuts past fifty without grinding it out."
⟦ Affirmative. Excess crystals have been preserved. ⟧
"Good." Mike smirked, his grin wild now. "I'll need them later… for the others, too."
Nova's voice chimed again, crisp and final:
⟦ Remaining reserves — 1,290 red, 939 blue, 1,456 green, and one black crystal. Total: 3,686. ⟧
Mike rolled his shoulders, the simple motion sending faint ripples through the air. His smirk curved wider, predatory.
"Plenty left for the war ahead."