A Chronometric Defect

These jackasses.

I thought I'd give my dragons a taste of space battle, and that at least was a resounding success. Not many were killed by the enemy's weapons and their claws we able to cause substantial damage to the ships' metal hulls. So far so good.

Then, the ships tried to run.

The ship's 'engine' is complex but also elegant. It works similarly to my Causal Conduit, except in reverse. Rather than affecting the causality of the target, it uses a massive EM field pulsed at a very high frequency to affect the space around the ship. It appears to be a phase-locked petahertz field which invokes two main changes to the ships' properties.

First, it decoheres the ship's internal bosons from external quantum pairings. Each plate on the ship's hull participates in keeping the field active by producing its own slower wave pattern, which I know is called a phase lock. Since the waves produced by each plate are only in the terrahertz range, the field becomes less effective if substantial damage is done to the ship's hull. That's the cost of generating such a rapid-pulse EM field with relatively low-power devices.

That only makes the ship slide through space, though.

It then uses sub-wave patterns to create a twisting effect at the edge of the electromagnetic field it generates. This creates more mass bosons from fermion pairs. Those bosons are produced around the rear of the ship, or the sides or front if desired, thereby generating thrust without expelling any gasses. This easily accelerates the effectively nigh-massless ship. Its apparent mass is decreased only relative to nearby space, of course: without this decoherence it'd take forever to accelerate and decelerate. Plus, the ship's computer creates a wall of bosons that are intended to cohere with incoming debris. This acts like like a sort of 'force field' which redirects said debris around the hull. In fact, it also seems to have reserve arrays which can temporarily put out enough bosons to cut directly through a decently-sized star.

It's a brilliant bit of engineering! This design sidesteps the problem of recursively altering local quanta. Nobody inside the ship is negatively affected; that much is a given. This fancy 'skin' of electromagnetic forces, however, is nearly imperceptable after a short distance. This ship could theoretically land on a planet without so much as disturbing the grass beneath it. Its EM field is that well-controlled.

Quanta are little more than tiny blobs of energy possessing velocity, or a direction of travel. Except that's also what makes them so hard to deal with. There's an uncountable number of these tiny little fields of energy moving around. Most quanta are attached to other quanta in some manner, which means they're held in place if they're bound into a solid form such as a block of metal. But that doesn't mean they stop moving entirely. Being energetic means they still exhibit motion even if they're seemingly held perfectly still, whether that be through spin or through transferring their energy to another quanta. Which means trying to get ahold of the right bits of quanta every time is a serious pain. Even when I try, some quanta may be cohered, or stuck to one another via quantum entanglement. The latter is also known as Causal Coherence.

Reah. That's the name of one of my many talents. I have the innate ability to perform quantum entanglement. Which is fittingly dragon. Or should I say overpowered? Hreh.

Anyway, so the ship can remove its external coherence. This means the crew can move around inside the ship like normal, but space won't exhibit much of a 'drag' on the ship's hull. It's like putting a slippery material on a metal rod and then sliding it across the ground. The key is that those slippery bosons on the outside do all the work. Which is because decohered bosons have a different spatial effect depending on where those bosons exist. Inside or outside the decoherence field. Inside, everyone can move around. Outside, everything moves around them.

I'll have to remember this trick! I can make myself effectively massless with Causal Decoherence, then pull myself through space via Causal Coherence. I could probably go faster than they can with their electromagnetic field.

How did I stop them from fleeing? Did I chase them? No, of course not.

I simply removed all the fermions around their ships. Their finely-tuned electromagnetic array can produce nothing, therefore it has nothing to grab onto.

I made them run their propeller in a vacuum instead of in air or water. They ain't gonna move. Hreh hreh.

True, there aren't many fermions in space, but the cosmic microwave background is apparently more than enough for these guys. I presume they're altering those microwaves to become fermions, somehow? I keep seeing new fermions pop into existence around these ships. I'll have to dissect how these engines work in more detail later. But the key is still turning those fermions into bosons. If the fermions aren't there?

The ship can't move.

Cool, I've got them. Right?

Then I realize: THEY'RE THROWING STARS?!

No, not little ninja stars. Fusion-powered stars.

What madness is this?!

I had my dragons go back to the planet since the attack was already successful. I've also realized I don't know this planet's name— I suck with names.

Not important; stay focused.

Now. How in the hell am I going to deal with this many stars? There must be twenty... Thirty... Damnit. Reh, they're mostly small, so, that's not really the main problem.

The main problem is that they've got a freakin' red giant. They threw a damn red giant at me.

This solar system's sun is much larger than Sol, the sun at the center of the solar system in my past life.

I examine the red giant again.

Still, if that monster of a star so much as enters our vicinity, it'll probably consume the whole solar system just by filling all the space. It's that friggin' big.

Reah, consumption. I don't have much of a choice, do I? It's not like I can quickly change the direction of so much mass. I haven't practiced their fermion trick, either. I know how to move the bosons but not how to merge the fermions. I can learn spells instantly— quantum physics is a little bit harder. A lot harder!

I'm strong, but I'm not that strong. I'm smart, but I'm not that smart. Gragh.

The mothership suddenly uses some sort of emergency escape drive.

Rah! I even let the rats escape! Though they left behind the rest of their fleet. That should be an expensive technology only installed on the mothership.

Hragh, I can probably chase them with Pathfinder plus their boson trick. Transference is great but it'll be useless if they're moving too quickly. Later, I'll need to figure out whatever that emergency driv—

I shake my dragon head.

Rah, they probably had extra fermions stored onboard. I prevented fermions from being created around their ships but not moved into the same position. My bad for not thinking to check; it's the obvious solution.

I put inscriptions on the remaining ships to lock 'em down so that I don't need to manually keep the quantum lock active.

After a quick check, I see zero fermions forming around the ships.

It works. Perfect.

I transfer myself, growing to full size, next to the red giant. I blast the smaller stars with devouring abilities. They vanish. Easy. My body's full size was already larger than some of those stars.

Eating them simply made my giant self more titanic than ever. Yum, hrah!

I look at the red giant. It UTTERLY dwarfs me. My draconic body looks like a beach ball next to a planet. Where in the hell did they get this thing?

I know, I know: space. Stupid question!

I dramatically underestimated this universe's war tactics.

Hrem.

I toss a few abilities at the thing. Causal Conduit, Spatial Absorption, Devour, Parasitic Body And Mind. Spatial Absorption seems to do the most to it, so I start spamming that one.

As the star shrinks, my body grows larger. Reah, I'm eating a red giant! You dumbasses thought this was enough? I'll eat your damn star. I'll eat all your damn stars.

Finally, after absorbing almost the entirety of the red giant, I hit something Spatial Absorption can't absorb. It seems like a bunch of rocks stuck together. It's not very big, but, I should finish the job instead of pushing this thing aside.

After all— this might be the real trap.

I whack it with Devour.

[EVOLUTION COMPLETED!]

[EVOLUTION COMPLETED!]

[EVOLUTION COMPLETED!]

[EVOLUTION COMPLETED!]

[EVOLUTION COMPLETED!] x152378

...

WHA—

My entire body churns and flows like a writhing mass. All at once, it shifts and morphs in countless different ways. Like it can't understand what it's trying to become.

I feel a powerful burning sensation on my chest which reminds me of the gluttony leech. I use Devour to remove it, but this makes the burning sensation grow ten times stronger. It then floods out to the rest of my body.

My vision leaves me.

Rah crap.

I attack the sensation's core with all kinds of non-absorption abilities, magic, anything I can. Then, my other absorption abilities as well. It doesn't matter what I hit it with; it just keeps getting stronger. I finally decide to whack it with my Origin, and this time? No, now I feel it in my Origin. THAT'S BAD. Except, it doesn't feel like gluttony, anymore. It feels like a mass of...

Why the hell not. I lost that title, and I can't feel its presence, but why the hell not.

I try to use Pure Evil on it.

As if I just gave the thing the most delicious tonic ever, it goes from burning, instantly up to unimaginable sensations I can't describe, and then keeps climbing.

They're not bad or good. They make no sense.

[≈^Π|√||Ππ &Π#¶|≈|≈≥|] ?????∆????

Cool. So helpful. I have an idea of what that says, but not what it means. Not in this context.

Status, Lineage.

Lineage: Origin

Type: Void

You are the origin of Void.

San||y Me|er: ?¿

|Π|a|: 6.33 (7.13¿)|1.19(192)

(debug: index out of range [-727622])

Predictive Inscription:

Your next origin will likely be: Void.

Well at least some sense got knocked into the predictive inscription. Maybe I coded it poorly? Like the sanity meter! Unless that means zero and I'm completely screwed. It probably means zero, doesn't it? The number of digits is 1, or— roh, jeez, don't tell me that's a percentage sign. There's not so much as a zero in my san—

Suddenly, the immense sensation vanishes. I'm back to feeling twisting and squirming. My vision returns. Everything seems. Normal?

I look down at my arm and reflexively jerk back in surprise.

My arm is covered in Origin blades. Just, covered in a field of big translucent spikes. I have huge Origin claws like a slasher beast. A large set of Origin blades uniformly runs down the back of each finger, which all merge on the back of my hand. There, it turns into a triple row of larger blades which run along my arm, onto my elbow where a much larger spike protrudes. Then it again condenses into a single row of blades that runs up to my shoulder.

I check my mental map.

Again, it merges onto a set of much larger spikes on my spine. Those run down my spine and tail, and up to my head. The pattern is similar for my legs, but, the ones on the top of my feet wrap around to the backs of my legs. There are, of course, smaller blades everywhere these large rows of blades aren't present.

Upon examining my head, I realize the largest Origin blades are coating my otherwise normal black horns. It's like a smooth clear layer amplifying the apparent size of my horns. I then realize it's the same for my entire body. However, between these and the translucent Origin spikes, I look utterly monstrous.

I can't honestly say I look like... Like a dragon. I've gone too far. This is. Well, admittedly it looks cool, but.

The hell am I?

I try to move the smaller Origin blades lining my chest, curious if this is related to that maw.

Grotesquely, my entire body splits along my largest Origin blades. Not just my chest, but my arms, legs, and even my head. 'I' reform into a huge, wildly bladed, toothy maw.

My tail, the one I'd jokingly referred to as a tongue? Whelp, that's exactly what it's become: complete with its own rows of Origin blades running neatly down its every surface. Stranger still, I get the sense I could split it into many smaller tongues if I wanted. My four dragon horns? Overgrown incisors. My spinal spikes? They line the top and bottom of my maw, between the incisors as teeth. My foot and hand claws? They run along the center of the maw, on the roof and bottom, leading from the front to the rear. It's as though I've become a horrific iron maiden in maw form.

Every part of me fits neatly into lining the inside of this maw with Origin blades. This maw? My maw. Me.

Rugh. What even is this?

I morph back into my sorta-dragon form.

Perhaps I don't look entirely like a dragon perhaps because, rehm, am I? I don't want to, but—

Status, Name.

Name: Chronometric Dragon Voidgod

You are Void

Rank: Voidgod

...

Hruh? I'm not the 'Origin of Void,' just 'Void?'

At least 'dragon' is still there. Maybe I evolved my Void lineage too much and it forced its way into my Origin. But— aren't my lineage and my Origin the same thing?

What in the world is a Voidgod?

What am I turning into?

Am I a dragon?