Awareness returned not as a gentle dawn, but as a sudden, brutal slap of sensation.
My head throbbed, a dull, insistent ache centered behind my eyes. A musty smell of old wood and straw filled my nose. I was lying on something hard and slightly lumpy, a thin, scratchy blanket pulled up to my chin. I blinked, my vision swimming into focus on a rough-hewn wooden ceiling, dark with age and smoke.
I tried to sit up, and a wave of profound weakness washed over me. My muscles screamed in protest, feeling like overcooked noodles. It was a struggle just to push myself onto my elbows. I looked down at myself. Small, thin arms. Pale skin stretched over a frame that suggested regular meals were more of a hopeful concept than a guarantee. I was a child.
Nine years old, the thought surfaced from somewhere deep, a piece of data attached to this new shell. My name is... Elian.
The memories of the void, of Kaelen and the cosmic wheel, slammed into me with the force of a tidal wave. It wasn't a dream. The cold, amused voice of that bored entity echoed in my mind as clearly as if he were standing right next to me.
I took a shaky breath, forcing myself to calm down. Panic was a luxury I couldn't afford. First, assessment. I was in a small, one-room wooden shack. A cold hearth sat against one wall, a rickety table and single chair against another. A small window with a cracked shutter let in a sliver of gray morning light. It was sparse, clean in a worn-down way, and utterly impoverished.
Next, the body. I closed my eyes, trying to feel what this new form had to offer. The weakness was apparent, but there was something else. A faint, cool sensation in the center of my chest, a small, dormant knot of… something. I focused on it, and a concept clicked into place. My mana core. It was there, but it was faint, dim. The dark orange stage, maybe even dark red. The absolute bottom of the ladder.
A flicker of frustration went through me. This was my grand new start? A sickly kid in a hovel with a core weaker than a guttering candle? Kaelen, you magnificent bastard. This was exactly his style.
But I had tools. I remembered the parchment, my selections. I had to see if any of it was accessible. First, mana. If I was going to survive, I needed to understand the local energy system.
I sat up fully, crossing my legs beneath the thin blanket. I tried to remember the basic meditation techniques from the TBATE memories I had—slow breaths, inward focus. I reached for that cool knot in my chest. At first, nothing happened. It was like trying to grab smoke. I pushed harder, my brow furrowing with effort.
Then, I shifted my approach. I didn't try to grasp it. I tried to invite it. I thought of the Quincy part of my heritage, the instinct to absorb ambient energy. I wasn't trying to pull in reishi, but the principle had to be similar. I imagined myself as a vessel, empty and waiting to be filled.
A tingling started at the edges of my awareness. Tiny, shimmering motes of light, invisible to the eye but clear to my senses, began to drift in the air around me. Mana. They were drawn toward the cool spot in my chest. Slowly, hesitantly, they began to seep into my core. The sensation was strange, like a cool drink of water trickling down a parched throat. The dim knot in my chest brightened almost imperceptibly, glowing with a faint, warm orange light.
A grin spread across my face. It worked. The Quincy affinity for energy manipulation was functioning, just as Kaelen had said, but tuned to mana. This was huge. This meant my potential for growth, for drawing in mana, could be exponentially faster than any normal mage in this world. I held the feeling for a few minutes, basking in the simple, fundamental joy of power, however small.
But it was draining. After a short while, a light sweat broke out on my forehead, and a faint headache began to pulse behind my eyes. My body was too weak, my core too underdeveloped to handle even this basic exercise for long.
I needed a better place. A safe place. I remembered the last item on my list. The Sefirot Castle.
I focused on the concept of it, the idea of a personal pocket dimension anchored to my soul. I pictured a door, a gateway. I poured my will and the trickle of mana I had just gathered into that mental image.
For a terrifying second, nothing happened. Then, the world didn't so much disappear as it just… stopped being relevant. There was a lurch, a sensation of being pulled through a keyhole, and the musty shack was gone.
I stood in nothingness. An infinite, pure white void stretched in every direction. There was no sound, no smell, no temperature. Just me and a perfectly smooth, circular platform of transparent glass that floated serenely in the emptiness. It was about twenty feet across. That was it. This was my grand castle? A fancy patio?
As I thought this, the void seemed to… listen.
The glass beneath my feet rippled. From its center, a shadow bloomed—a pool of absolute blackness that raced outwards to cover the entire platform. It wasn't menacing; it felt stable, solid, like polished obsidian. The moment the black floor settled, I felt a connection snap into place, deep and fundamental. This space was an extension of my will. I could feel it waiting for my direction.
"Okay," I whispered, my voice swallowed by the immense silence. "Let's start simple."
I pictured a chair. A simple, comfortable armchair. The black floor in front of me shimmered, and the air coalesced into a form, solidifying into exactly what I had imagined. I walked over and sank into it. It was real. Solid.
Emboldened, I turned my will to the rest of the space. I didn't need a castle yet. I needed a home base. I focused on a section of the platform, far from the center, and imagined a wall of soft, white, shining fog rising from the edges, obscuring the view beyond. It was like a permanent, gentle mist, creating a private area. Behind that mist, I poured my will into creating a simple, sturdy brick house with a slate roof, a single door, and a chimney. It was small, just one room, but it was mine. A place nothing and no one could touch without my permission.
Then, I turned my attention to the main platform. This felt like it should be a place of power, a meeting hall. I envisioned a long table made of the same crystal as the original platform, its surface smooth and cool. Around it, thirteen chairs materialized, each seeming to be carved from a single, giant geode. They were beautiful, intricate, and twelve of them were identical. The thirteenth, at the head of the table, was larger, more imposing, its back carved with patterns that seemed to shift and move when I wasn't looking directly at them.
I walked to the head of the table and sat in the large chair. It felt… right. As if the space approved. The moment I settled into it, the air in front of me wavered, and a single, pristine envelope appeared, hovering silently. It was sealed with a wax emblem I recognized—a stylized, laughing crescent moon. Kaelen.
My heart hammered against my ribs. I reached out and took it. The paper was thick and expensive. I broke the seal and unfolded the letter. The handwriting was elegant and flamboyant, each word seeming to dance on the page.
To my favorite little variable,
I trust your integration has been sufficiently… memorable? A nine-year-old body with the mind of a jaded cosmic traveler—the comedy writes itself! I do hope you like your new home. Charming, isn't it? Full of character.
[Now, down to business. Your starter kit is all here, in this space, waiting for your call. But some things require… prerequisites. A little motivation for you to grow stronger.
The gift I promised you: it is the sword of Sousuke Aizen. It is here, dormant. It will not awaken, will not even appear in its true form, until you achieve two things. First, you must advance your core to the solid Orange stage. A decent step up from the flickering ember you currently host. Second, you must reach the third level of refinement as outlined in your new manual. Speaking of which, I took the liberty of making a slight thematic adjustment. That 'Body Cultivation Manual' felt a bit generic. I've replaced it with an 'Ancient Alchemy Manual.' The process is largely the same—incredibly painful, slow tempering of the body through the use of absorbed energies and alchemical agents—but it comes with a fun new twist: you get to make potions! Think of it as a side quest.
Once you achieve Orange core and Third Level Alchemical Body, the sword will activate. It's a fine weapon. It will serve you well.
A few other tidbits: - The sea-stone weakness of your Devil Fruits has been nullified. Consider it a professional courtesy. You still can't swim, because that's just funny, but seawater itself is no longer your Kryptonite. - Your ability to use Haki is locked behind a Silver core. Don't bother trying before then; it'll just give you a migraine. - Everything you asked for is present in this space. You merely need the strength to summon it fully. Your will is the key, but your mana is the fuel. The more you have, the more real and permanent your creations here can become. Right now, you can barely maintain your own presence here. You'll notice the drain soon.
And your Schrift… ah, the piece de resistance! You drew the letter 'G.' The Grace. A wonderfully social ability. It allows you to willingly lend a portion of your strength to others, and for them to lend their strength to you. The bonds must be mutual and willing. It fosters teamwork, camaraderie… or utterly devastating betrayals. The narrative potential is delicious. I can't wait to see how you use it.
Try not to die too quickly. The story is just getting started.
Yours in boundless boredom, Kaelen]
I lowered the letter, my mind reeling. An Alchemy Manual? That… actually sounded more useful. More versatile. And the sword—Aizen sword! an overpowered weapon. The prerequisites were steep, but they gave me a clear goal. Orange core. Third Level Alchemical Body.
The Schrift, 'The Grace,' was intriguing. It wasn't a direct combat power. It was a support ability, a force multiplier. It meant my strength would be tied to the strength of those around me. Kaelen was forcing me to build connections, to create a faction. The patriarch of a new race, just as he'd said.
A sharp pang shot through my head, and the luxurious chair beneath me felt less solid. I was running out of mana. My time here was short.
I stood up, urgency overriding my fatigue. I had to see what I could access now.
I focused first on the Devil Fruits. I pictured them, their bizarre shapes and swirling patterns. Two objects materialized on the crystal table with a soft thud. One was a pale, knobby fruit covered in swirls that looked like converging shockwaves. The Gura Gura no Mi. The other was a vibrant green fruit covered in patterns that resembled leafy vines. The Mori Mori no Mi. They looked exactly as they did in the comics.
There was no hesitation. I couldn't afford to be weak. I grabbed the tremor fruit first. It smelled foul, like old socks and regret. I took a massive bite.
The taste was indescribably vile. It was like chewing on a solid chunk of sewer water mixed with bitterness. I gagged, forcing myself to swallow the horrific pulp. I immediately bit into the forest fruit. It was no better. Somehow, it tasted like rotten plants and moldy earth. I choked down both mouthfuls, my stomach heaving.
For a moment, nothing happened. Then, a strange sensation bloomed in my gut. It wasn't pain, but a sudden, profound understanding. I felt a new layer of awareness settle over me. I knew, instinctively, that I could now resonate with vibrations and command plant life. The knowledge was just… there, waiting to be used.
Next. The Senzu Bean tree. I envisioned the sapling, and a small, healthy-looking plant in a simple clay pot appeared on the table. It had a few small, strange leaves. It wouldn't produce beans for a month, but it was alive. I took it and walked through the mist to my little brick house. I set the pot down outside the door. With a thought, a small patch of rich, dark soil appeared next to the house. I carefully transplanted the sapling into it. There. A future source of healing and stamina.
Lastly, the sword. I pictured Shusui, the black blade. It materialized in my hands instantly. The weight of it nearly pulled my weak, child's arms out of their sockets. I grunted, straining to even hold it level. It was a solid, brutal piece of metal, exactly as described. A reliable weapon, for when I was strong enough to lift it without falling over. I willed it away, and it vanished back into the ether of the pocket dimension.
The headache was now a pounding drumbeat in my skull. The white void seemed to be pressing in on me. I was almost out of fuel.
One last test. I focused inward, on my core, and then pushed that awareness outward, trying to feel the elemental affinities Kaelen had mentioned. Two sensations responded immediately. A warm, comforting heat that pooled in my hands, and a solid, grounding feeling that centered in my feet,a cool,breex and a flowing wave numerous emotions and feeling swelled within,it seemed that i had a affinity for all elements.
It was enough. I had my answers. I had my starting point.
I let my concentration break. The Sefirot Castle vanished, and the lurching sensation returned, throwing me back into the reality of my weak body on the hard bed in the dusty shack.
I lay there, panting, sweat soaking the thin blanket. The entire trip had taken maybe fifteen minutes, but I felt like I'd run a marathon. My core was completely drained, the faint orange light now a dim, dormant red once more.
Outside the cracked shutter, the gray morning light was getting stronger. I could hear the distant sounds of a village waking up—a rooster crowing, the lowing of a cow, the faint sound of voices.
I stared at the ceiling, the weight of my situation settling onto my small shoulders. I was Elian, a nine-year-old boy living in poverty. I was also a reincarnated soul with the powers of a Quincy and a Lunarian, two Devil Fruits, a pocket dimension, and a cosmic entity using me for his amusement.
I had a goal: Orange core, Third Level Alchemical Body. I had a path: train, grow, survive.
The boredom of the void was a distant memory. Now, there was only the grind ahead.
I pushed myself out of bed, my legs shaky. I walked to the window and pushed the shutter open. The cool morning air hit my face. I looked out at a simple, dirt-road village nestled in a forest clearing. My new world.
"Alright, Kaelen," I muttered to myself, my voice small but determined. "Let's play."
Tomorrow, the training would begin. Today, I needed to learn about the boy whose life I now lived, and the world I had to survive in. One step at a time.
[END OF CHAPTER]