White.
Everything was white.
Ashen floated in that colorless void, suspended between existence and nonexistence, consciousness drifting in a half-asleep state that felt both eternal and instantaneous.
He couldn't feel his body. Couldn't sense up or down, left or right. Just... white. Endless, all-encompassing white that pressed against his awareness like cotton against skin.
'Where...?'
The thought formed sluggishly and incompletely. His mind felt thick, thoughts moving through syrup.
Then—
A presence.
It wasn't threatening. Just... there, being impossibly curious, like being observed by something that existed outside the rules he understood.
BEHOLD—
The voice resonated through the white space, and Ashen's consciousness sharpened despite the drowsiness.
But the voice that followed the resonance wasn't what he expected.
"Okaaay~ so like, you did SUPER good! Like, really really really good! Better than I thought you would! Ehehehe~"
The voice was... a little girl's. High-pitched, eager, bubbling with barely contained excitement. But underneath the childish delivery, something else threaded through: precision, objectivity, and an analytical quality that felt distinctly inhuman despite the innocent tone.
'What the—'
"Shh shh shh! Don't interrupt! I gotta show you stuff! Important stuff! Like, reeeally important! I want you to see it all, Papa!"
'Papa...?'
But before Ashen could process that bizarre statement, the white void shifted.
Images bloomed before him, three-dimensional and extremely vivid. He was watching events unfold from a detached perspective, seeing without eyes, understanding without context.
A young man stood among Pride soldiers, looking nervous and out of place. The face was similar enough to Ashen's own that recognition hit immediately.
Ash Hart. The original.
"This is what woulda happened if you didn't—um, what's the word?—inhabit him! Yeah! If you didn't inhabit him, this is how it goes!"
The scene unfolded like a story told at double speed.
Ash being selected as one of several spies sent to the demihuman camp. His nervous demeanor making him stand out immediately. Days passing in the enemy camp where he gathered only surface-level information—troop movements anyone could have observed, supply routes that changed daily, nothing of real value.
The Beholder's voice narrated with childish enthusiasm: "See? See? He tries sooo hard but he's just not good at this kinda stuff! He's nervous and people notice and he can't really... um... infiltrate properly? Is that the right word? Infiltrate?"
Weeks blurred past. The Narkal attack beginning. Ash being herded alongside other human defectors—Pride army traitors who'd switched sides—used as fodder to help the demihumans breach the encirclement.
The final scene played out with excruciating clarity: Ash running through the Narkal tide, terror painted across his face, before a beast's blade caught him across the middle. He fell, was trampled, and disappeared beneath the black wave.
Dead within the first hour of the stampede.
"Aaaand that's how he dies! Not very heroic, huh? But that's okay! That's what makes YOUR stuff so cool!"
The scene dissolved, replaced by new images.
This time, Ashen watched himself… or rather, watched Ash Hart's body moving with confidence and purpose that the original had never possessed.
"Okay okay okay, so THIS is what YOU did! Are you ready? I'm gonna list everything! I practiced!"
The Beholder's voice took on a slightly more formal tone, though the girlish enthusiasm still oozed through every syllable.
"First! Evidence gathering of Fox folk spies and defectors in Pride army—completed with, um... exemplary thoroughness! That's what the data says! You found stuff even the professionals missed!"
Ashen watched himself presenting the worn notebook to General Rowan, saw the shock and interest bloom across the commander's face.
"Second! Solo infiltration mission ~accepted and executed! High risk tolerance! Very impressive!"
The scenes shifted rapidly: seducing Alice, the dancing scene, navigating political intrigue, gathering intelligence.
"Third! Romantic an' strategic acquisition of Fox Queen ally! Dual-purpose achievement! The affection metrics are off the charts, by the way. Like, seriously. I didn't know mortal brains could produce those hormone levels without exploding!"
Despite the surreal situation, Ashen felt heat creep into his non-existent face.
"Fourth! Securing demihuman military reinforcements for Pride army defense! Estimated survival rate increase: three percent!"
He watched himself sending intelligence about the Narkal stampede, saw the messages being delivered, the frantic preparations beginning.
"Fifth! Direct combat participation resulting in—ehehehe, this one's my FAVORITE—the elimination of..." The voice paused dramatically, building suspense like a child about to reveal a secret. "Six hundred four thousand, seven hundred ninety-eight Wild Beasts! AND! Eighty-six thousand, four hundred two Gorefiends!"
604,798 Wild Beasts
86,402 Gorefiends.
The numbers hung in the white void, glowing faintly.
Ashen's consciousness reeled. He'd known he'd killed a lot. But seeing the exact figure, hearing it stated so clinically...
'That many...?'
"Yup yup yup! I counted EVERY SINGLE ONE! Each kill! Each wound! Each perfect thrust! You were so efficient! So fast! Papa killed an average of one Narkal every second in eight days!"
The images showed Ashen's journey through the Narkal tide, days of endless combat compressed into minutes of viewing. The relentless rhythm of thrust-withdraw-thrust, the gradual refinement of technique, the moment enlightenment struck and his spear began moving through space itself.
"Aaaand sixth! Survival against third-step Wrath pathway combatant: Cassius Asta, the Oathbound Confessor! Threat level: EXTREME! Probability of survival without intervention: zero point zero zero three percent! Actual survival: ONE HUNDRED PERCENT!"
The scene of his confrontation with Cassius played out… the confession, the torture of beliefs, the stripping of identity. And through it all, that infinite willpower refusing to break, adapting, transforming…
"He tried SO HARD to make you give up! Used his curse-thingy and his skill-thingy and his scary-eye-thingy! But you just kept going! Kept changing! Kept finding NEW reasons! That's—um—that's what's called adaptive resilience! Right papa? Super rare! Only three documented cases in the last million years!"
The images faded, and the white void returned.
The Beholder's voice shifted then, taking on a quality that made the space itself seem to hold its breath. The childish enthusiasm remained, but underneath it emerged something absolute: judgment rendered without malice—just a crystalline truth.
"So so so! Based on aaaaaall of that, here's what I gotta say!"
The words appeared in the void, existing rather than merely being written.
YOU HAVE WILDLY DIVERGED FROM ORIGINAL ASH HART'S DESTINED PATH.
"You didn't just change stuff a little bit! You changed it SO MUCH that I had to recalculate EVERYTHING! Three hundred seventy-two branching timelines collapsed! Fourteen major nodes restructured! The whole future-web got all tangled, and I had to reorganize and it was SO MUCH WORK but it was also really really REALLY fun! THANKFULLY, this is merely a fragment of history and doesn't affect the true timeline whatsoever!"
HUMANITY'S FATE HAS BEEN GREATLY IMPROVED THROUGH YOUR ACTIONS.
"You saved a lot of children, Papa! Like, a LOT of them! They woulda died way faster without you! Now they got a better chance! Not a GOOD chance, but better! That's important! UNFORTUNATELY, this is merely a fragment of history and doesn't affect the true timeline whatsoever! "
THE DEMIHUMANS' FUTURE HAS BEEN SUBTLY STEERED TOWARD PROSPERITY.
"The fox-people woulda died SO BAD without you! Like, extinct-bad! But now they got a chance too! In the form of the surviving pretty fox-queen herself! And you even made her like you which is—um—romantically optimal for continuation of species! That's good planning!"
The letters seemed to pulse with satisfaction, as if the Beholder itself was pleased with the outcomes.
Then, the voice rose to a crescendo of pure, unrestrained delight:
"AAAAAAND THE BEST PART! The SUPER DUPER BEST PART!"
ASSESSMENT: MAGNIFICENT
The word exploded across the void in letters that seemed to sing.
"You did MAGNIFICENT! That's the highest rating! Higher than 'excellent'! Higher than 'exceptional'!"
The Beholder's voice softened then, taking on a quality that almost resembled... fondness? Pride?
"So 'cause you did so good, 'cause you changed SO MUCH STUFF, 'cause you were MAGNIFICENT... I'm gonna give you something special! A fitting boon shall be born from these feats! That's the rule! Big changes make big rewards!"
The white void rippled.
"Ehehehe~ This one's gonna be PERFECT for you! I looked through aaaaaall the archived concepts and found the one that matches best! It's from someone Papa really respected! Someone who died defending the humans-children just like you did!"
A warmth began building in Ashen's chest. It was not physical, since he had no body here, so it was something else. The closest Ashen could describe it would be the sensation of something foreign being woven into the fabric of his being.
"This is from General Rowan Vance! The one you watched die! The one who held aaaaaall that mana and moved it around like it was easy! I was watching him and thought 'wow, that human's really good at the mana-moving thing!' And now... now it's yours!"
The warmth intensified, spreading through Ashen's consciousness.
INNATE SKILL ACQUIRED: MANA AUTHORITY
The information flooded into him without him having to open the status window and read the skill description.
Mana Authority: The sovereign command over magical energy, permitting its wielder to impose their will upon mana itself. This authority does not request or negotiate; it commands, and mana obeys.
Born from General Rowan Vance's final gift, this power carries with it the significance of sacrifice and the burden of memory. In his last moments, as the Riven Formation dissolved and his soldiers fell around him, Rowan Vance did not curse fate. Instead, he looked toward the future and made a choice.
"If I cannot defend humanity myself," his will declared, "then let my strength pass to one who can."
His mastery over mana, which was refined through decades of battlefield command, honed through countless desperate stands, perfected in the moment of death, crystallized into a concept. That concept sought a vessel. And in the white space between realms, it found Ashen Hart.
But this gift carries intention beyond mere power. It is a record and a testament of a defiant declaration that even in death, even in defeat, humanity's defenders will be remembered, that their sacrifices mattered, that their strength lives on.
"Remember us… Remember what we fought for. And when you wield this authority, when mana bends to your will as it once bent to mine… remember that you carry not just power, but duty."
Traits:
Absolute Command – Mana recognizes the bearer as sovereign. External mana can be seized, redirected, or nullified according to will. Internal mana responds with perfect obedience, moving instantaneously to desired locations without circuit resistance.
Architectural Mastery – The bearer perceives mana as structure, seeing flows, densities, potential paths. This perception enables manipulation of mana in others, though the difficulty scales with their power and resistance.
⛧
The Beholder's voice was almost gentle now: "Isn't it pretty? Skills with memories are the strongest 'cause they got purpose. This one's got lots of purpose! The general-man wanted SO BADLY for humans to survive that he turned his dying thoughts into power! That's really special!"
Ashen, even in his half-asleep state, felt bittersweet. He got the power-up that he wanted, but it came packaged with responsibility.
Thankfully, it was nothing that he wasn't planning to do already, so he could accept such a legacy, alongside the trust of a dead man who'd given everything, without disappointing the departed.
"Oh oh oh! By the way, you should also check your status window as soon as you can!!"
'What now...?'
"You learned something without even knowing it! While you were fighting-fighting-fighting with the stabby-spear! I saw it happen and got all excited 'cause you figured it out all by yourself!"
'I learnt something…?' Ashen was having a hard time following the more the voice chattered due to the drowsiness.
"You were killing SO FAST and I was like 'why is he going faster and faster?' and then I understood that you were making the killing take LESS EFFORT by doing it MORE EFFICIENTLY so you could be done sooner! That's super smart! And super Sloth-y! You're a natural!"
Yes. That was exactly what he'd done. Refined each thrust until it took the shortest path, eliminated wasted movement, and compressed the entire process of killing until it became almost effortless.
So he could rest… So he could stop… So the work would be done…
Sloth for him didn't mean avoiding work. It meant finishing work as efficiently as possible.
"Okaaaay! That's everything! I hope you like the reward you earned for being MAGNIFICENT!"
The white void began fragmenting, cracks of color bleeding through.
"Time to wake up now! Your fox-girlfriend is waiting! She did really good too, by the way! Got a super cool reward! You're gonna like it! It's fluffy!"
'Wait—'
"Oh! One more thing! I think Papa would like to know, so I should tell you: The eyes are watching! Always watching! We're—um—I'm? We're? I'm?—invested in your success! So do your best, okay? Make me proud! Keep being magnificent!"
A giggle echoed through the dissolving void.
"Also also also! I'm glad I sound like a cute girl-voice and not a cranky grandma-voice! That would've been SO ANNOYING for both of us! Ehehehe~"
'How did you—'
"Bye bye! See you next time you do something SUPER COOL!"
The white shattered.
⛧
⛧
⛧
Ashen's eyes snapped open.
He was back in Alice's room in her villa, lying on the ground exactly where he'd been before the Beholder's Gaze had activated. Morning light filtered through the window.
His body felt the same, since it was not his real body that experienced the fragment.
But all of that fled his mind the moment he saw her.
Alice lay beside him on the ground, curled into a fetal position. Her face was pale, expression disoriented, eyes fluttering as consciousness returned.
She looked so small… so vulnerable… but so impossibly, beautifully alive.
Ashen's expression cracked.
He didn't think and just moved.
His arms wrapped around her, pulling her against his chest so tightly she gasped. His face buried in her hair, breathing in her scent.
"Thank god you're alive," he whispered, voice breaking. "Thank god. Thank god. Thank god."
With each prayer, with each exhale of her calming scent, the scenarios shown by the Astrologer seemed to slowly dissolve.
Alice stiffened in surprise for a heartbeat, then melted into the embrace. Her arms came up to loop around his back, hands clutching his shirt like she was afraid he'd disappear if she let go.
She exhaled against his shoulder a long, shuddering breath that carried weeks of tension.
"Idiot," she murmured, but her voice was thick with emotion. "Of course I'm alive. You wouldn't let me die."
"Damn right I wouldn't."
They stayed like that for a long moment, just holding each other, confirming that both of them had made it out of that nightmare, that they were together, and that against all odds, they'd survived.
Finally, Alice pulled back just enough to look up at him, and a mischievous grin spread across her face.
"Look what I've got~."
She wriggled out of his grip and hopped off the ground with surprising energy for someone who'd been so listless minutes ago. Her hands spread dramatically, presenting herself.
Then—shift—
Where Alice had stood a moment before, a nine-tailed fox now sat on its haunches. Golden fur gleamed in the morning light. Nine magnificent tails fanned behind her, each one tipped with white. Golden eyes regarded him with unmistakable smugness.
Another shift, and human-Alice returned, though now with fox ears perked atop her head and those nine tails swishing behind her.
Ashen blinked, then focused on the status screen she displayed.
==============================
INNATE SKILL: NINE-TAILED FOX
Bloodline of the Fox Queen, passed from sovereign to successor.
As she watched the foreign entity use her body and forge a different path, a path that led to survival, unlike hers, Lady Aurenne, Queen of the Nine-Tailed Foxes, last of the royal bloodline, made a choice.
She had been impressed.
The human girl had seduced the only man capable of saving her. Had maneuvered politics with surgical precision. Had ensured that when death came for the demi-human army, they would fall as warriors rather than flee as cowards. Had given them dignity in their final stand.
"Such cunning," Aurenne had thought, watching Alice work. "Such ruthless pragmatism wrapped in genuine affection. Such perfect balance of heart and mind."
"This one," the Queen decided, "is worthy."
And so, Aurenne channeled the entirety of her bloodline, the genetic legacy of her entire race, the very concept of what it meant to be a nine-tailed fox, into a gift.
"Revive our people… Bear our tails with pride. Let the world remember that the nine-tailed foxes existed, thrived, loved, and died with honor."
"Make us REAL again."
Traits:
Bloodline Integration – The bearer has become a carrier of the nine-tailed fox bloodline, equivalent to being born into the royal family. This grants access to all racial abilities, instincts, and potential.
Form Duality – The bearer may shift between human, full-fox, and hybrid forms at will. Each form retains the passive abilities of the other.
Mana Mastery – Nine-tailed foxes possess the highest natural affinity for mana manipulation among all known mortal species.
Illusion Sovereignty – The bloodline carries inherited expertise in illusion and mental magic.
Path of Evolution – The bloodline is not static. As the bearer grows in power and understanding, the tails may evolve further, unlocking deeper aspects of fox ancestry.
"I give you my people's future. My race's continuation. My personal power accumulated over nine centuries. Use them well."
"Seduce. Deceive. Manipulate. Love. Protect. Thrive."
"Be the fox I wish I had more time to become."
"Make them remember us."
==============================
He finished reading and looked up to find Alice watching him expectantly, tails swishing with barely contained excitement.
"So?" She prompted. "What do you think?"
An absolutely delighted grin spread across Ashen's face.
"The fluffy tails aren't lost after all!"
Alice's expression went flat. "...That's the first thing you think of?"
"Well," Ashen shrugged in an exaggerated, carefree manner, "the power-up is good and all, but not as good as the fluffy tails. There's no debate there."
Alice huffed, but the fond look in her eyes conveyed her exasperation. "Unbelievable."
"What? You don't agree?"
"...Unfortunately, I can't say I don't see your point." She sniggered.
She moved closer, and one tail wrapped around his wrist in a gentle caress while another bopped him on the head. "But we have to at least appreciate the other benefits. Do you know how much easier mana manipulation is going to be now?"
"Yeah, yeah…"
Alice's expression turned subtle, as though something had just resurfaced in her memory. She asked slowly, "By the way… do your eyes have a will of their own…?"
"Wait, how did you—"
"The Beholder spoke to me. Cute little voice, right? Very enthusiastic about your 'magnificent' performance." She faintly smiled. "Apparently, we both got the full report while floating in that white space, judging from your face."
Ashen absorbed this and helplessly shrugged, "I don't really know much for now… but I'll look into it, it's my body, after all…"
Then he grinned wickedly. "Speaking of which... the skill description says something about reviving the Queen's race. Specifically mentions making fox folk real again." He stepped closer, voice dropping to a teasing murmur. "Do you wanna get to work now, or...?"
He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.
Alice rolled her eyes, but pink dusted her cheeks. "Really? Now?"
"That's not a no."
"It's not a—"
BANG—
The door burst open with enough force to crack the frame, and the warm atmosphere shattered.
Guards flooded into the room, six of them, all wearing the distinctive armor of Alice's personal detachment. And leading them, face twisted in pure, righteous fury, was a man with vibrant red hair.
The moment Ashen registered that particular shade of crimson, another image superimposed itself over his vision: Cassius Asta, standing beneath an ancient tree, red eyes glowing with madness and barely controlled violence.
The comparison was Involuntary. But it was as Involuntary as it was hilarious for Ashen.
This guard was young, probably early twenties, handsome in a conventional way, and he wore his anger like a child throwing a tantrum.
His red hair seemed almost comically bright compared to Cassius's darker, blood-soaked shade. His expression screamed self-righteous indignation rather than world-ending wrath.
Where Cassius had emanated the cruel certainty of someone who'd watched hope die and decided to burn the world down anyway, this guard simply looked... petulant. Like a boy who'd had his favorite toy taken away.
The unfair comparison tickled something in Ashen's brain, and before he could stop himself, a smirk tugged at his lips.
The red-haired guard noticed. His face went even redder.
"YOU—" He jabbed a finger at Ashen, practically vibrating with rage. "Get AWAY from her!"
'Oh. Isn't that him… what was his name again?'
Ashen recognized him now. One of Alice's personal guards… the one he'd embarrassed in front of her before when the guard had tried to attack him for getting too close to the young miss. The beating had been thorough and public.
Apparently, grudges died hard.
The guard's hand went to his sword. "I don't know what kind of sick illusion magic you used to trick her, but it ends NOW! Whatever you did, whatever lies you told her—"
"Illusion magic?" Alice's cold voice interrupted.
She stepped between Ashen and the guards; the nine tails were hidden alongside the fox ears. "Are you implying I'm so weak-minded that I can be manipulated by illusions?"
The guard faltered. "No! My lady, I meant—"
"And did you just burst into my room without permission? Without knocking? During my PRIVATE recovery time?"
"I—we heard—there were reports—"
"Reports." Alice's smile could have cut steel. "What reports, exactly?"
The guard's jaw clenched. His eyes fixed on Ashen with pure hatred.
"He's a KIDNAPPER!" The accusation exploded out of him, freezing both Alice and Ashen in place.