As soon as the design for the divine shell was complete, the experiment commenced. Leviathan transported them to the Lonely System, a desolate star cluster beyond the star zone.
This was the very system where Simulacrum had once been imprisoned, and where the Shard of the Nightbringer was later confined. Because no other systems surrounded it, it was aptly named the Lonely System. The lone planet here had been destroyed in the battle with the Nightbringer, and it had remained in ruins since—making it the perfect arena for a clash of celestial beings.
Qin Mo and Simulacrum stood on Leviathan's platform amidst the iron constructs, both preparing for the experiment. Simulacrum adjusted its form to optimize for battle, while Qin Mo fine-tuned the living metal shell laid flat before him.
Creating this shell had not been easy.
Crafted from an enhanced version of living metal, it boasted extraordinary self-healing abilities, a neural interface capable of atomic rearrangement, and even the capacity to grow like organic tissue. Most importantly, for Qin Mo to control the shell, his consciousness had to pass through the Maker's dimension and enter the shell—a safeguard to prevent other star gods from hijacking it as a vessel.
"Ready?" Simulacrum's form morphed, settling on a shape prepared for combat.
"Almost." Qin Mo sat cross-legged, closed his eyes, and focused his mind.
He felt himself detach from his fleshly form, crossing into the dimensional space, a world woven of countless lines, where he followed the beacon embedded within the shell.
The beacon emitted a light that blazed unmistakably in the dimensional void, guiding him to the shell. Once anchored within, Qin Mo opened his eyes, rising to test the movements of his new, five-meter-tall body.
"Ready now?" Simulacrum asked once more.
Qin Mo nodded, twisting the laws of space around them. In an instant, he and Simulacrum found themselves atop the largest remnant of the shattered planet.
The landmass, a continental fragment left unscathed by the celestial engine's assault, now gleamed like glass, scorched beyond recognition.
Before testing his shell, Qin Mo posed a question to Simulacrum. "How do star gods battle? Do they use physical laws against each other, or do they engage in hand-to-hand combat like the Nightbringer with its scythe?"
"Each star god has their own methods. What matters isn't how you fight, but how swiftly you can eliminate your opponent." Simulacrum raised a hand and unleashed an attack.
Qin Mo saw a mass of energy hurtling toward him. Though transparent and shapeshifting, the energy appeared to simultaneously embody countless colors and forms. Wherever it passed, the fundamental laws twisted in its wake, leaving traces of gravitational anomalies.
Star gods seemed to embody the laws themselves—every casual strike carried an eerie weight. Qin Mo observed as the energy struck his shell, distorting its limbs and torso in peculiar ways. His arm began to dissipate, while his abdomen contracted inward.
Simulacrum paused its attack, puzzled. "Why aren't you fighting back?"
"This is a test, not a battle. I'm assessing the shell's resilience," Qin Mo replied, feeling each distortion and wound inflicted by Simulacrum's assault.
The injuries varied—some holes were simple breaches from energy impact, others came from gravitational compression. Simulacrum's attacks were as unpredictable as its own mutable form. Against conventional physical or energy-based attacks, the living metal would instantly heal any damage. But with Simulacrum's unique assault, Qin Mo had to first neutralize the distortions on each wound before the metal could seal it.
The swift regeneration astonished Simulacrum. "This living metal feels far superior to ours."
"It's handcrafted. I refined each atom myself. It's bound to outperform your factory-made models," Qin Mo remarked, tapping his arm. The sound traveled in erratic pulses through the distorted remnants of energy left by the previous attack. "There's an overlooked rule in this universe, even among star gods: handcrafted trumps mass-produced."
Simulacrum shrugged off the comment, launching a second wave of energy at Qin Mo.
This attack bore no difference in style, yet he sensed a determination in Simulacrum's assault, as if it was testing him.
Qin Mo raised his hand to counter. Instinctively, his right hand morphed into dual cannons, firing a fireball that streaked across the void. Qin Mo hadn't consciously intended to form a cannon, yet as he launched his attack, it had assumed that shape, perhaps a subconscious manifestation of his intent for a ranged strike.
As the fireball spanned the thousand-meter gap to Simulacrum, it transformed into a sphere to better absorb the impact. The instant the fireball made contact, it exploded, sending waves of flame billowing outwards.
From above, one could see flames consuming everything within a ten-kilometer radius, centered around Simulacrum. Though the continent itself had been charred to the core by the celestial engine's devastation, it now burned anew.
A spectacle: flames blazing in the vacuum of space.
Simulacrum wasn't defeated but emerged with minor injuries. It morphed into a factory-like structure, mass-producing living metal to patch itself up, delivering its verdict to Qin Mo with a measured tone.
"For a shell, not your actual body, this destructive power suffices." The message traveled through stellar magnetic fields, resonating within Qin Mo's mind.
Qin Mo fell silent, thoughtful.
The fireball had been the shell's maximum offensive output. Even if he opted for lightning or close combat, no technique would surpass the fireball's potency, for the shell was already at its limit in channeling star god power.
While stronger attacks might be possible, the shell would be annihilated in the process.
The shell could only contain about sixty percent of his essence—a limitation Qin Mo found unsurprising. After all, it was merely a prototype, capable of evolution.
But it was his true form that intrigued him.
When it came to harnessing the full scope of star god strength, how was his mortal body still the stronger vessel?