Nullus stood in the middle of his cramped room, where the small bed and the worn wooden table barely left him any space to move. The flickering light of the lamp cast dancing shadows on the walls, as if trying to mimic his turbulent thoughts. He had discovered that his ability to amplify concepts was not merely a window to see the world with clarity, but a tool that could reshape reality in ways he had never imagined. Yet this discovery alone was not enough; he needed understanding, experimentation, and to define its limits before even considering how to use it to his advantage.
He sat on the cold floor and took out a simple coin from his pocket. He examined it intently, focusing his awareness on it just as he had done with the wall of his room. He tried to sense its fundamental concept, to read its abstract nature, and soon fragmented words appeared before him, flickering like a candle's light in a storm:
"Value – Balance – Metal – Rotation."
He decided to start with the simplest experiment possible: to amplify "balance."
He held his breath and delved into the concept, trying to make it stronger, deeper, more present. As he did so, he felt a slight tremor in his fingertips, as if the entire universe was responding to his attempt. Then, without any warning, the coin became perfectly stable atop his finger—as if it were glued to him—unwavering and immovable, even when he tried to shift it, defying the laws of gravity.
"This… is strange," he murmured to himself. Amplification not only increased the intensity of the concept but altered its very nature, as if it were reshaping a physical law unique to this phenomenon.
He decided to experiment with something else.
He retrieved a small box he used to store some of his tools. It was no larger than the palm of his hand, barely able to contain the small items within. He closed his eyes and focused on its essence, on the concept that defined it. This time, relatively clear words emerged before him:
"Container – Boundaries – Space."
He chose to amplify "space."
What happened next was more astonishing than he had expected. When he opened the box again, he found it filled with a mysterious void. He reached inside, but found no bottom where one would expect it. He delved deeper, further, until he felt his forearm submerged completely within the box, which from the outside still retained its normal size.
"I have... created an inner dimension!" Nullus exclaimed, stepping back slightly as he stared at the box as if it were a dangerous beast. He had succeeded in surpassing the familiar constraints of reality. Yet the question remained: How far could he push this?
He decided to try something even more intense.
He picked up an old knife whose blade was so dull it could barely cut paper. He focused on it, sensing its concept:
"Sharpness – Cutting – Metal."
Without hesitation, he amplified "sharpness."
For a moment, the knife gleamed as if light were reflecting off it in an unnatural manner. He wanted to test its effect, so he gently ran it along the edge of the table, and the wood cracked as if it were dry paper. He was startled, but he did not stop. He tried dragging it across a piece of cloth, and it split in two without any resistance. "This… is dangerous," he whispered.
Yet the experiment was not without flaws. He noticed that the knife began to deteriorate after a few minutes, as if the effect of amplification was losing its stability and starting to corrupt the material structure of the object itself. Here, he understood one of the fundamental rules of his ability:
Amplification does not grant perfect strength to an object; rather, it pushes it to its extreme limits, causing distortion in its operating mechanism in unexpected ways.
After several more experiments, Nullus began to notice the laws governing his ability:
Limited Activation Time: He can use amplification for only 10 minutes out of every 24 hours. Once the time expires, he loses the ability to affect concepts until the next day.
Distortion of the Concept: Every act of amplification causes distortion in the concept—it cannot be simply enhanced without change. Increasing sharpness makes the knife disintegrate quickly; expanding space creates unstable inner dimensions; enhancing balance renders objects frozen and lifeless.
Inability to Amplify One's Own Concepts: He cannot amplify the concepts that define himself, because he cannot see them.
Temporary Effect: Once the amplification period ends, the object reverts to its original state, albeit potentially damaged. The box, for instance, returned to its normal size but became less durable, as if its original structure was compromised.
Understanding these limits, Nullus began to ponder the creative applications of his abilities.
Amplifying "Weight": He tested this on a small stone, which transformed into an unusually heavy object, heavy enough to break a table when dropped. This suggested that he could use it to disrupt enemies in combat.
Amplifying "Shadow": He experimented on himself in a well-lit room and found that his shadows deepened and darkened, as if they were trying to swallow the surrounding light. The idea of using shadows as camouflage became intriguing.
Amplifying "Sound": He tried it on a simple whisper, which grew so powerful that it produced a noticeable vibration in the walls. This could be useful for disorienting opponents or transmitting messages over long distances.
Despite his enthusiasm, he could not ignore the ominous side of his power. He now understood that every time he employed amplification, he tampered with the laws of the universe, leaving unpredictable traces on reality. What if he lost control? What if some alterations were irreversible?
He looked at the box, now fragile after his experiment. This power was not merely a tool; it was a responsibility. He needed to master it, to learn how to use it with caution—otherwise, any mistake could be catastrophic.
Stepping to his window, he gazed out at the sprawling city, recalling his original mission. He did not want to become just another instrument manipulated by greater forces. He had to understand his limits, to push his abilities as far as possible without succumbing to arrogance.
Deep within, he began to realize another truth:
Amplification is not just a power—it is a test.
A test of how well he could control himself and how ready he was to face the consequences of his actions.
Night had long draped itself over the city, obscuring its details in a serene darkness, though silence was no guarantee of safety. At that moment, Nullus was about to lie down on his worn bed after another day of work and experiments with his strange ability. He had planned to train daily, dedicating 5 minutes to practice and reserving another 5 minutes in case of an attack from the Organization. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, but a strange sensation pierced his being, as if a wave of unseen threat surged through him, warning him of imminent danger.
Before he could discern the cause, he was jerked from the bed. At that very moment, someone shattered the small window with astonishing speed, sending glass fragments scattering throughout the room. He couldn't even see the attacker clearly, but he caught sight of a sword—an object moving with near inhuman speed, descending with terrifying weight at the spot where Nullus had been moments before.
CRACK!
The bed broke under the impact, yet it did not shatter into pieces as expected. Instead, a glowing seven-pointed star, bathed in a faint blue light, suddenly appeared above it. Within a second, the wood began to change, as if it were never a bed at all but something entirely different. It transformed into a wooden box gripped by unseen hands, then into a cage of metallic bars, as if the bed had been "reformed" into something else entirely.
In a flash, Nullus activated his conceptual vision to read the word that had appeared on the transformed object: "Sealed." His heart pounded with dread.
He retreated to a corner of the room, his breaths rapid, his eyes fixed on the man who had invaded his small world. The mysterious swordsman was tall, his form unnaturally straight, and his slender sword reflected the moonlight from the shattered window. But what captivated Nullus even more was the way he stood.
It was not merely a pose of readiness for battle; it was an embodiment of absolute authority.
"Did you really think you'd escape forever, you beast?" the swordsman boomed. His words resonated in the room, not merely as a threat, but as a decree, as if his very utterance forced reality to obey.
Yet Nullus knew he did not intend to die here. Rather, the worst fate was to be sealed—trapped in this reformed reality.
And so began the clash of wills—a contest of power where every word, every concept, and every action would determine the shape of existence itself.