I don't work on one thing at a time anymore.
That would be inefficient.
My mind moves in parallel now, ideas branching and looping back into one another like living equations. Three projects occupy me simultaneously, each feeding into the others, each pushing me closer to something no witch—or Titan—ever fully achieved.
Project One: The Time‑Pool Locator
The first project is the most delicate. Time pools are rare, unstable, and deeply embedded in Titan magic. I design the device to sense temporal distortion, Titan residue, and dimensional shear all at once.
Glyph arrays spiral around scientific instruments. Sensors hum softly. When I test early prototypes, the readings flicker—not false positives, but echoes. Proof that time itself leaves fingerprints.
I'm getting closer.
Project Two: The Techno‑Staff
The second project excites me the most.
A staff—yes—but not a traditional one. No carved wood and wild magic alone. This is technology married to glyphs, refined into something elegant and terrifyingly efficient.
Light glyphs serve as computational units, arranged like circuit boards, each one capable of storing, interpreting, and activating spell logic. Every glyph I've discovered is registered into the staff's internal system. No delay. No guesswork.
Just intent → execution.
The core is designed to accept a catalyst. Titan blood, ideally—but my own blood will suffice. After all, my blood is magic now. When infused, it amplifies output, stabilizes complex spell chains, and allows the staff to scale its power based on my will.
This isn't a wand.This isn't a crutch.
It's an extension of me.
Project Three: Glyph Creation
The third project never stops.
Every new glyph expands my vocabulary of reality. Each one is another rule bent, another limitation erased. The more I create, the more naturally magic flows. I'm no longer just replicating what witches can do—I'm mapping what magic can do.
And today… I make a breakthrough.
Gravity.
The gravity glyph comes to me slowly, deliberately. A symbol that doesn't push or pull force, but redefines direction. When I activate it, the world obeys without resistance.
Up becomes negotiable.Weight becomes optional.Momentum becomes mine.
I test it carefully—lifting stones, bending trajectories, anchoring myself against impossible forces. The glyph responds beautifully, clean and precise, no backlash.
I sit back, heart steady, blue blood humming faintly beneath my skin.
With this glyph, movement itself becomes a tool.With enough glyphs… magic becomes language.And with my staff, my blood, and time itself as a resource—
There will be very little I can't do.
I record everything meticulously, sealing the page with a quiet smile.
Three projects.One direction.
Ascension—not as a god, not as a tyrant, but as something far more dangerous:someone who understands.