Atlas stirred from a strange, disorienting sleep, a memory lingering at the edge of his awareness like a bad joke. [Pitying your little computational power, here's a word of advice. When you wake up, find Velathra, and do it fast. You won't have much time. Good luck, my friend.]
'First she did the thing that shouldn't be done, she lied about winning our war, I only lost a battle because I didn't tell her my guesses, I'm pretty sure I got them right. There's no way I lost. And then, this cliche romcom-protag-wannabe cursed me with a damn foreshadowed quest I couldn't give the special finger to. Next time I see you Cortana, you better prepare yourself, I'll reprogram you to a catheter cleaning device for retirement homes. No, actually I'll make you shepherd the sentient dung beetles.' he thought, scowling internally, though there was something unsettling about the urgency of the warning. Slowly, consciousness drifted back to him in fragments. He wasn't in the endless white void anymore, not floating in a dream.
No…this was something else entirely. He felt confined. Too confined.
Something hard pressed against his limbs, restricting his every movement. His fingers, wait, were they fingers? Whatever they were, they brushed against a smooth surface, cold and unyielding, flowing through something... gooey.
'Oh no... Oh hell no… I better not be in an egg. Please don't tell me I'm in an egg. Cortanabitch you said you couldn't make me a centipede! I SWEAR ON THE BEARDS OF THE GODDESS THAT I'LL DISMANTLE YOU IF YOU FUCKING DID!'
The thought hit him like a jolt of electricity, and his eyes snapped open—or at least, he tried to open them. Everything remained dark, the world still sealed away in whatever cocoon of insanity he'd found himself in. The longer he stayed there the worse it became, the more he felt, the more he realized, and he was pretty fine with being ignorant of these facts for eternity.
He shifted, feeling the weight of something soft and sticky around him. Panic fluttered in his chest. There was no doubt about it now.
'Okay…okay…you've been through worse. Just…try not to think about the extra leg thing, maybe it's not what you're thinking, maybe you're a... fuck.'
With a nervous determination, he pushed outward, scraping at the smooth surface with newfound strength. It didn't give easily. It pushed back with the same strength he did, as if faintly malleable, making it even harder to breach.
Then came a sound like a soft chime, almost cheerful, followed by the all-too-familiar voice of the System, breaking into his thoughts.
[Congratulations! You have successfully completed the Soul-Rebirth phase. You may now… break free. The System expertly advises you do so quickly, lest you prefer to remain cozy in your 'goo cocoon' for eternity. Warning: prolonged marination may lead to undesirable flavor.]
'Well, thanks for that. Really clears things up, I think I'm fine tasting normal, thanks.' Atlas grumbled as he shoved harder, his body twisting awkwardly. He could feel the shell cracking, faint lines of weakness forming beneath his assault.
With a grunt of effort, he finally managed to push through. A small crack. Then another. His heart pounded as a strange muted-glow of light poured in through the growing fissure. It was enough. He felt the cool air of the outside world on his skin—or whatever passed for skin now.
'Alright. Let's do this.'
With a final, forceful push, the shell shattered, and Atlas tumbled out into a new world.
Atlas blinked as he tumbled free of the cracked remnants of his amniotic prison, his smooth white egg, landing unceremoniously on the cold hard ground. He groaned, wiping the goop from his eyes and some off his face, only to freeze, his pupils dilated to slits. As if his mind housed a war of ultimate scale, his head flinchingly turned to his hands, his eyes shut in hesitation as he earnestly prayed to all concept of divine creatures in hopes that his fears were unfounded.
'Please, please, please, please—let this not be what I think it is,' he thought, heart hammering in his chest. Slowly, as if the act might summon some dark cosmic joke, he cracked one eye open, peeking down at his hands.
Humanoid hands with long, sharp nails. Fingers that were a little longer than his last life, but nothing that screamed monstrous abomination. His skin was creamy white, unnervingly white, but still, that was fine. He didn't care much about the tint of his skin.
No, what haunted him was the possibility that somewhere in this cosmic roulette, he'd been turned into an elf. An astral elf? Or some local knockoff variant?
He'd rather be a centipede.
Atlas shuddered. Centipedes were revolting, sure, unholy abominations of all that were less-legged, but at least they didn't have the audacity of those arrogant, pointy-eared lawn-ornaments who thought they were the pinnacle of creation. He could barely stand reading about them. Always walking around like they were the final authority on everything, like the universe revolved around their elegant little superiority complexes.
'Elves are the face-slappable young masters of fantasy races,' he thought solemnly, before an overwhelming shudder spread through his soul. The world around him suddenly exploded with sensation. The air wasn't just cool. He could feel it vibrating, humming against his skin like an invisible thread strung between him and everything around. The ground beneath him, it wasn't just hard; it pulsed in waves, like it was alive.
"What the-?!" Atlas's head snapped up, only for it to snap back down just as fast, a flood of information hitting him. It was as if his entire body had become a finely-tuned overly sensitive instrument, every vibration, every movement registered with almost painful clarity. He could sense something scuttling a good distance away from him, even though he couldn't see it.
Was he hearing it? Smelling it? Tasting it?
"Nope. Nope. Nope. This is... why does it feel like I'm reading the damn caves autobiography?!"
Panic surged through him like a raging torrent as he tried and failed to process the onslaught of alien senses. Before he could get a grip on what was happening, instinct took over, new instincts, and he moved to stand. Only, instead of pushing against the ground, he found himself... floating?
'What the absolute fuckity fuck...? Why the hell am I -- !?'
Yet he felt the ground beneath him. Like it was pressing into his legs, even though his feet were clearly off the damn floor in his murky vision! Atlas's mind whirled, trying to comprehend the absurdity.
"Wait, wait, hold up. I'm flying? Did she actually give me a cheat skill?.." he paused, remembering Cortana's clear denial, "Oh fuck... Dig I get reincarnated as some sentient kind of sentient cloud?"
He dared to look down, remembering the fleshy sensation that was his hands, yet bracing for the worst.
And saw…
Nothing.
Well, nothing but the blurry outlines of his surroundings, "What in the name of the divine goat's nipple is going on?!"
Just as his mind teetered on the edge of a meltdown, the System chimed in, as cheerful and unhelpful as ever.
[Congratulations! You have successfully activated your Hexlimbs! Your successful adaption to your new body is much quicker than predicted based on your... unique intelligence. Well done! The System is proud! It seems you won't be needing the rest of the data regarding your body, now, let's move on!]
"Hold up, you bootleg sentient paperclip, you better give me that info or so help me god, I'll shove you so far up a--"
[Correction. No God of the [Fold] will ever help you, or entities related to you, in any way. Ever. Such an occurrence is rarer than the possibility of you blowing up the planet. Another occurrence that is calculated to have a 0.0000000000098123% chance of success. Please do not engage in delusions, host! We will raise your comprehension beyond that of a particularly ambitious potato eventually, don't worry! The [Exalted Mistress of All That Is Glorious and Brilliant] has personally tasked me with it!]
For a moment, Atlas brain snapped, his mind in a daze, as all manner of world ending machinations of cannon-fodder villainy appeared danced in his thoughts. And then he roared, "WHY YOU LITTLE--"
[Moving on, the System believes it is of paramount import that the host follow it's detailed plans in order to better adjust to your newfound situation, and nearing threats. Does the host agree to enact mission-file [Codename: Dumbass]?]
Atlas didn't know whether he had suddenly developed a serious case of hallucinated anger-inducements or he was genuinely hearing what he thought he was. If it was the latter, he felt like he really needed to plan for the planets eventual explosion as quickly as possible. He couldn't leave this System alive.
Atlas took a deep breath. "Alright… let's recap. I'm floating, but also… not. I'm apparently a sentient mess of limbs, but without the courtesy of a full briefing on what the hell I am. Oh, and my only guide in this wonderful new existence is a glorified, overconfident toaster with delusions of grandeur."
Another pulse of sensation rippled through his body, causing his muscles—or whatever passed for them now—to twitch involuntarily. He floated higher, his new hexlimbs apparently reacting to his frustration.
He gritted his teeth. "If this mission file has anything to do with cleaning a toilet in space, I swear I'll—"
[Rest assured, host. You will not be cleaning toilets. The nearest space station is, in fact, unavailable.]
"That's not the point!" Atlas growled, clenching his fists. "Just give me the damn mission parameters!"
[Starter mission parameters uploading… Now. A friendly reminder: the system advises a calm and measured approach to the mission, as unnecessary stress may impede successful adaptation to your current form. Progress - 57%. Adding base instincts of new body. Emotional instability detected—consider breathing exercises.]
Atlas muttered darkly under his breath. "I'll show you 'emotional instability' when I rewire you into a-"
[Progress - 63%. Categorizing Inherent skills. Determining stat values. Processing report of attempted [Void Corruption] reduction and erasure. Report processed. Progress - 71%. Downloading instructions of [Exalted Mistress of All That Is Glorious and Brilliant]. Instructions Downloaded. Downloading and dispersing file: [Atlas' Earth-History Volume #312 - "Contents of 'Homework' folder"]. Download completed.]
At first, Atlas considered whether drugs that could cause the bullshit that had happened to him over the last few days even existed on Earth. Then he heard the apparently necessary file the System was attempting and succeeded to download regarding his past life. His expression warped, darkening like a blood-moon on the horizon, he really wondered whether or not the System wanted him dead by aneurism.
"Why the fuc-"
[Almost done host, be patient! This is all in the name of repairing evolutionary failures in the hosts mental faculties! Progress - 84%. Downloading and dispersing necessary [Sellene] common knowledge within acceptable range of [Authority] value. Downloading final necessary material: [How to Train Your Degenerate: A System's Survival Guide]. Documents downloaded. Progress - 99%.]
Before he could plot any further mechanical revenge, the overwhelming sensation of a mass of information flooding his brain shut him up. His eyes glazed over for a moment as his brain processed all of this new knowledge. It'd take a while to actually understand it but at least it was there. Paired with this new understanding of the world, were a vast array of muscle memory, instincts, and autonomic body processes that he lacked just after leaving his egg. It was like he spawned in half formed. In a way, the System wasn't lying about his lacking mental-faculties, something he'd sooner die fifty times than admit.
Taking a deep breathe in, his body slowly floating back to the ground, Atlas felt much better, and opened his eyes to the blue screen of his first mission.
Mission: Codename [Dumbass]
Objective: Escape the cave and locate Velathra.
Alternative Objective: Search for kin, find water, eat, and build shelter. (Not advised. Prioritize suggested objective before considering alternatives. There is a reason the System suggests the primary objective. You have been warned.)
Threats: Predators. Obstacles. Your intelligence. Gods. Comprehension. Math. Biology. Your Intelligence.
Time Limit: Unknown, but probably sooner than you'd like.
Recommended Action: Run.
Atlas squinted at the words. "Wait… hold on. That's it? 'Run'? That's the grand mission?"
[Affirmative. The System believes this simple directive aligns with your current capabilities.]
He stared blankly at the message. "You seriously think I need a mission file just to tell me to get the hell out of here?"
[Yes.]
Atlas groaned, slapping a hand to his face. "You know what? No. I think I'll follow the alternative objective, finding kin. Fuck you, System."
[Host, it is not advised to ignore the Systems carefully crafted plans! Doing so will further inhibit the chances of raising your cognitive ability beyond that of a damp sponge! The System urges you to reconsider. Additionally, it should be known that the System will never ever act in a way that will bring harm to the host or their interests, considering this, you should seriously consider why the System has given you mission file Codename [Dumbass]. You may be missing something.]
With squirming veins on his forehead, a twitching brow, and as much self-control as Atlas could possibly muster, he breathed in again, and again, and again, before finally calming.
"System. Let's be real for a minute, ok? I'm not planning on dying again anytime soon. Give it to me straight. Is there actually a reason for me to run?" Atlas asked bluntly, eyeing the floating, miniature Cortana with a holographic crown on its head and book in its hand.
[Processing... Reducing vocabulary to understandable level of average primate...] the little Cortana muttered as Atlas practiced meditation in attempts at feigning ignorance.
[Process completed. To answer your question, host, the System was forced to change the location of your batch of eggs. According to standard procedures for the hosts new species, the [Astera Spiris], the host should have been born inside what is known as the Cradle of Velathra. This is definitely not the Cradle. The [Void Corruption] of the hosts body would have spread to too many [Hatchling Astera Spiris] if we left you among them when you were hatching, thus we had to find a suitable alternative, and this place was it. In addition to this, there are threats that it will be very difficult for the host to contend with alone, in this cave, outside the entrance, and even along the route to Velathra. Thus, running like a coward is your best option in the Systems expert opinion.]
Hearing this, Atlas seemed to understand, he already knew he should be in Velathra, he didn't know much about the place, but he understood his new race inhabited it. He didn't seem to have acquired a full set of bloodline memories like some races did, his were only vague and extremely fragmented, only seeming to leave more questions.
Likewise, the Astera Spiris, his new species apparently, were known to be one of the single most protective races the System recorded when it came to their children, or in this case, their brood. This meant his being outside of Velathra at hatching was definitely not considered normal.
[There are additional factors the System has considered through the usage of your elevated [Authority], but these are the only ones I am allowed to share with you. Please understand host, I'm unable to dumb down what I'm saying any further, if I try, I'm afraid I'll have to convey it through the language of single-celled organisms.]
"So. Not only did you guys force me into a fucked up race with six legs too many, you also spawned me in the middle of 'who the fuck knows' in a world big enough to exhaust a god. You Systems are really something, very professional, I'm quite impressed. Honest. I don't think I've read of a sorrier excuse for a program," he ranted, understanding the dangers of the situation.
"How am I supposed to fucking trust you about this so-called important reason for going to Velathra if you can't even guarantee my safe spawning there? Not only that, but you also let my condition affect the natives UNDER YOUR CARE!" Atlas roared, increasingly enraged towards the end.
He didn't know where exactly this rage came from, but the more he thought of the situation, the harm done to these uninvolved siblings, and the supreme failure of the System, the more angry he became.
He didn't know where exactly he was, but he could instinctively sense the location of Velathra. It was at least a days journey away at his current size, a very small distance considering the scale of [Sellene] but far too much for him to handle alone, he knew bits and pieces about the dangers along the way, and each of them wouldn't go well for him if he tried to 'lone wolf' it. He was about the size of a 6-8 year old, the kids that hang on monkey-bars and tend to try 'nut-punches'. It was better than being the size of lint, but not by much when everything here tended to be bigger.
[Host. If you are determined to complete the alternative objective the System will not stop you, but allow me to give you advice. There are definitely others of your kind in this cave. As you know, your body has been greatly altered from the standard found in your new species, this is due to the effects of [Void Corruption] and attempted removal, but it did not only affect you. According to the Systems calculations, there is a 87% chance that it affected others in your batch of eggs as well. Considering the unique [Arkae] ability of [Rapid Adaption] they are likely to have become variants of the Astera Spiris like you. This said, they are likely to be vastly different than their bloodline memories will lead them to comprehend, considering this and the situation, the System advises you immediately begin searching for these kin before it is too late, for you, and for them.]
Atlas nodded when he heard this, if the System was right, it meant that Atlas had unknowingly cursed his new siblings. His [Void Corruption] had been successfully reduced to a level apparently found acceptable by the System, but it didn't come without costs. If his siblings were born in a form matching his, especially with the vast array of bloodline memory inheritance they are likely to have, it probably wouldn't be something they could accept.
He was now vastly different from normal Astera Spiris. Standing at the height of the average action figure, his body was perfectly humanoid with few exceptions. He had hardened metallic-looking sections of armor that covered the sides of his body, lengths of his arms, thigs, and even back of his shins, almost everywhere except his chest, head, and joints. But this was not the biggest change in form.
On his back, along and to the sides of his spine, sprouted six large metallic spider appendages called Hexlimbs. They were golden and maya-blue in his case, patterned like a designer had sculpted them personally, they were beautiful, sharp, and extremely lethal, to equally midget-sized creatures that is.
He had venom glands producing toxins like many of his race throughout his body, but with subtle differences. Shelfing the matter of their use and lethality, even his ability to spin webs was vastly different because of his variant identity. Each of his fingertips had tiny holes on them to disperse Spiris Silk, and so did the tips of his hexlimbs.
Looking towards his back, but unable to twist his head the full way, he couldn't see whether he had a "release nozzle" above his butt, but he felt like he did, for better or for worse. Probably the most welcome change though, and equally regretful, was the loss of his waste system.
To put it bluntly, he had no ass to shit with and no pp to comfort. His little brother downstairs had disappeared and his new species' method of reproduction was something he didn't care to explain. Instead, his body now relied on a process the System had so kindly dubbed [Core Burning], a function of the [Minor Mana Core] that took over the role of digestion, purification, and waste management. Any impurities, toxins, or unneeded byproducts were funneled directly into his [Mana Core], where they were broken down and converted into usable energy, mana, or raw nutrients.
In essence, Atlas had become his own closed-loop system, with his core acting as both a furnace and filtration unit. Even excess proteins, fats, and other biological materials were absorbed into his cells, refined, and repurposed. Waste simply ceased to exist. It was efficient—almost too efficient. No need for a digestive tract, no need for the awkward biological processes most creatures suffered through.
It wasn't just a bodily function—it was a method of survival, as the purified energy from [Core Burning] allowed him to operate at peak efficiency, even in environments with limited food or water.
"Sigh... I guess there are some benefits to this shit," Atlas muttered, still reeling from the idea that his body had completely bypassed one of humanity's most common annoyances. "Still weird as hell, though."
All of these factors combined, he was everything spiderman wanted to be, and everything Atlas wished he wasn't.
He could feel the potential lethality of his body, it was 'fucking terrifying,' by his standards, but this didn't mean it was perfectly comfortable. His six new hexlimbs acted more on his base instincts to move than even his human legs did. This lead to the situation he currently found himself in, hovering above the ground as his six legs carried him forward. It wasn't all that bad, but it was still weird for Atlas.
Looking towards the darker portion of the cave, opposite the entrance, Atlas shuttled forward, his mind a mess and his thoughts distant.
"System, pull up my Status, it's about time I take a look don't you think?" he said, walking deeper into the cave, his senses taking everything in at their max capacity, and his eyes sharpening over time. Behind him trailed a tiny Cortana with a book in hand, crown on head, and ribbon-laced little shoes.
It was time to find his new family in this world.