A Chronometric Defect

This is a huge risk. It's not a risk I should take. Yet, I have to admit that this woman's memories represent a huge opportunity for me. For my future, my plans, and my knowledge of spellcasting and inscriptions.

Ainthia's a genius. The spellcasting ability she's shown while inside my blast containment spell is simply incredible. Compared to everyone else I've come across— I'd say she's second only to my own casting prowess. Not that far behind, either, if I ignore my inflated stats. That's quite amazing given my lineal advantages.

She didn't use a series of spells to attack my blast container. That was one spell. The spell she used was akin to a program on a PC running a series of automated attacks. She made a computer program in a world where they use horse-drawn carriages. The level of skill required to achieve this is so far above anything else I've seen here.

Only my surgical spell might be considered comparable. Her spell was shocking to witness.

Unfortunately, she's also broken. Very, very, very broken. Her mind was weaving between delirium and psychosis even before she started nodding off from immense blood loss. And now that she's explained why?

Seagull flayer. Implying, she uses a technique like a pack of seagulls to flay people to death. Worse, she doesn't even want to do it.

There's, just. I have no words.

I want to walk up to the Emperor and swat him like a fly. Right this second. I won't, of course.

I don't know why this is making me, a dragon, so incredibly angry. I could argue, hey, I was a human in my past life, right? Nope. I don't feel that connection anymore. I haven't retained even the slightest sense of shared justice for members of my former species. I really am... A dragon.

But no. This is not about humans, nor is it about dragons. It's also not about justice.

It's about the right of every living being to feel safe within their own mind. If a person can't feel safe inside, how will they feel safe around others? How will they feel safe when they need to take a risk or make a tough decision?

I often heard people would 'take painkillers to make the pain go away,' in my previous world.

Thing is, once you surrender your mind? It doesn't matter whether you surrender to hate, prejudice, or greed; to food, sex, or gambling; and yes, to drugs and substances. Once you surrender your mind— you'll live in pain forever. No matter what. And you will NEVER see the light of day until you bring yourself back from that darkness.

This woman? She's too far gone. She knows she's too far gone. If I ate her while still alive; to get her spell-casting aptitude and inside knowledge of the empire? I'd also get the memories which drove her stark raving mad. I want to experiment with taking only some parts and not the rest. I do, but the risk is so damn high.

Yet, somehow... Hearing her pleas? I also feel I owe it to her. I feel, if I do end up inflicted by some portion of her madness, I'd carry out her dying wish all the better.

That doesn't make any sense, so I shouldn't let it sway me.

I do anyway.

"I'm sorry you had to experience that. If your dying wish is to be eaten by a dragon— by me, then I'll certainly oblige."

(tshshhsh)

"Haaaaaah.... Thaaaaahnk... Yooooouuuu..."

I activate Parasitic Body and Mind.

I eat her.

Then, her memories flood in. It's not like it was with the dragon hunter. I'm purposely slowing the absorption process, so I can toss out what I don't want. It's surprisingly easy, thankfully. I suppose that just like Parasite, whom I got this talent from? I don't need to eat anything I don't want.

Which makes sense in hindsight. Why is the talent called 'Parasitic Body and Mind?' Why not 'Parasite' like the original? I thought it was because Parasite tried to control my brain but failed, leaving me with a new body. Maybe it fled because it became too corrupted by my draconic lineage. Perhaps that also gave me its mind.

Except, none of that makes sense. My mind is still mine. If anything, I should've gotten its Will. I didn't. Mental Schism must've destroyed its Will before I Devoured Parasite.

When I think about Devour, its description says 'Devours your opponent. Sates hunger.' What hunger? I've never been hungry. And why does it make my body grow?

The reason's been staring me in the face this whole time.

My talent, Parasitic Body and Mind, hungers for power and knowledge from the bodies and minds of others. It destroys their body and mind and then adds what's left over into my own body and mind.

I didn't get this talent from Parasite eating my body. No, we've somehow become a single entity. It's as though I used its own talent against it. This talent is likely the same one it got from evolving. I dare not imagine how powerful Parasite might've grown had it escaped my body.

I think back to Parasite's attempt to flee; the way it discarded its body and tried to run off. Perhaps, I too can toss away my own body if I so desire.

What about my mind? Can I discard those jumbled memories from the dragon hunter? While still absorbing Ainthia's memories, I try tossing out one of the dragon hunter's many bar-hopping adventures.

{*fst*}

It crumbles and vanishes.

No way.

I grab another memory and try to edit it: I make the sun look giant. Then, I go to another memory before flipping back to the first one. The sun is still huge.

No way!

Then... What if I...?

A blob of inky blackness slides from my body and drops to the ground. My huge dragon body gets a bit smaller.

{*blort*}

The black blob reforms and turns into a roughly human-sized copy of my current self. All of my senses are shared through both copies; they're both me.

I can see myself... Twice.

I try to turn off sense sharing. My copy starts looking over my huge spiked form. It then looks down at its own arm. It finally looks back up at me and sighs in admiration, a small toothy smile on its maw.

I'm not doing that. Am... I...?

I touch my smaller copy and Will us to snap back together. My larger self returns to its original height.

I feel a mix of panic and confusion. Not because of my copy, but because of my experimental results. This talent is FAR too strong. Yet, could it be even stronger? Could 'Body' in 'Parasitic Body and Mind' also refer to a heavenly body?

Could I eat a planet?

A star?

I almost hope that I can't.

Still, I'll try to do what I'd stated offhand when discussing my abilities with Aitos: consume inanimate material.

I... Need to check. That mystery object I ate is bothering me. Could it be harmful?

No, that's not right. Is it true that I can eat anything?

I kneel down, touch my hand against the watchtower, and— I really go at it. A huge wave of my own spatially-black flesh pours out and begins to engulf the whole tower. It's just like when I was covering the wall with my spell, except this time I'm covering the watchtower with...

Myself.

Then, I rapidly slide my strange innards back into the confines of my draconic form, causing me to fall due to eating the tower out from under my clawed feet. Yet, as my flesh returns to where it should be, that very form rises up, up, and up. I put my clawed foot down and crush one side of the tower's foundation. Shifting my own immense weight causes an earthquake. It's as though the tower itself collapsed.

##THRUD##

*rrrrumbl*

I put my other clawed foot down much more dexterously.

#THOD#

I stand tall. Very tall.

Hoooly shit. I am HUGE!

I then search inside myself for weaknesses, impurities, or useless parts. I find none. This talent solely adds to my body's size? That's hellishly effective. I look down at my immense clawed hand; a hand which could easily scoop up a dozen houses.

Ragh, I'm getting too big. I'll have trouble doing anything at this size.

Hra.

What if I compress myself down a more reasonable size? Two storeys is eight meters, so... Ten meters.

Can I do that?

My enormous body shrinks, and shrinks, then shrinks beyond what it was before.

I reach my desired ten meter height. I walk to the edge of the tower foundation, intent on testing softer ground.

My footsteps crush the solid rock underneath me into powder.

*krrrrnch*

*kraaanch*

*krrrench*

I reach the edge of the foundation and put my foot onto the soil. My clawed foot goes straight into the packed soil as though I were dipping it into water.

*hulch*

Crud. I can't walk anywhere if I'm this small and heavy.

Thankfully, I know from physics class that weight is the force of gravity multiplied by the mass of the object. I also know that mass originates from Higgs Bosons. Well, Higgs ain't here, so I'll call them mass bosons. It's simpler. Anyway, shouldn't I try to reduce my mass? I attempt to convert most of my body's mass bosons into other fundamental quanta.

It... Works. Yet again.

What is this, dragon alchemy?

I put my foot on the soil. Seems fine.

I'm no longer obscenely heavy nor voluminous.

I tap my arm with my claw. It produces a sound like two solid objects impacting each other.

*pok-pok*

There's zero vibration, so that sound must originate from the air inbetween my arm and claw being compressed.

Rawh. My body is much tougher, stronger, and brimming with more power than ever. I feel incredible right now.

This talent is ridiculously dangerous.

Even though I'm still much weaker than the Dragon God was at its prime, it ain't got nothin' on me. If I attacked it with this overpowered talent, plus the fact I'm its lineal inheritor? There's a good chance I'd win.

For safety's sake, I'll imagine I failed. I'm stronger than Parasite; strong enough to make full copies of myself. I could simply destroy the part of my body I was using to invade. I could destroy my 'arm,' so-to-speak, and thus ensure the Dragon God wouldn't be able to steal my talents.

Parasite was an incredibly terrifying creature. Now I've become said 'incredibly terrifying creature.' Which does beg the question; how much of me is still a dragon?

...

Rewh, I'mma dragon. Rawr.

I decide to admire my beautiful scales and pristine spikes.

...

Raha, I'm absolutely divine. Aren't I?

...

I then flip my tail around to deftly rub my amazingly sharp and vicious tail spikes. I run my scaled finger along their sharp blades. I know these should cut just about anything, but they do nothing to my finger. I'm too strong.

*tik-tik-tik-tik*

....

Too strong? No such thing!

I grin toothily. I'mma happy dragon.

"Rawr!"

(tshshhsh)

...

I notice my mind's finally finished sifting through the former Seagull Flayer's memories. Seems that was her actual title. She signed all her documents with it.

Her memories are 90% gruesome. If she wasn't torturing people, she was dreaming about being tortured by those same people. When she'd eat, she'd hallucinate she was eating her victims. So on and so forth.

She was absurdly far off the deep end; I don't know how she wasn't already a babbling mess.

I suppose Ainthia was a strong person— stronger than even I can understand. Perhaps not in raw power, but in her Will to keep going. She only completely cracked when the Emperor decided she was disposable.

He chose to kill her because she'd offhandedly threatened to 'punish' his teeth. That was the first real threat she'd ever made. Yes, I checked every memory. The Emperor knew exactly what she meant since 'punish' means something very different to the leaders of The Purified Heavens. Something unspeakable. It's beyond even what Ainthia herself told me in her dying confession. She knew, but didn't dare say it aloud... Because she was the one who did the punishments. All of them.

Seagull Flayer wasn't just a title. She literally used seagulls.

I'm not speechless anymore; now I'm incredibly furious. I have a few choice words regarding the Emperor's personality, but, I'm simply going to kill him and be done with it. I might be able to sweep up a whole bunch of land with Devour and go kill him right this moment. Chock full of potency and whatnot.

I won't, because I risk accidentally harming people who don't deserve my careless wrath. If I get too strong, too quickly, I might not be able to control myself. I'm going to do this the right way. Even if it's much slower than necessary.

After all, lack of self-control is the hallmark of a tyrant.

I'm not like the Emperor; I won't act like him.

Now, more than ever? I refuse.

I stand for a moment in silence while thinking deeply.

...

...

Rah, now I get it.

Ainthia herself is the reason. How many people's lives could I destroy? Far more than the Emperor.

If there's life on other planets? I could make billions or... Trillions of people suffer.

Maybe more than that.

What stops me? Me. I stop myself. I'm in control. I must always stay in control.

I'm incredibly powerful. Absurdly powerful. So, the cost of me losing control is unimaginable.

I shake my dragon head.

Ainthia's given me a small taste of what I'm capable of doing.

After all, I can alter memories, or even consume Wills.

I could torture someone quite literally forever.

I am...

...

Terrifying beyond reason.

...

Which is why I must remain a dragon. I must never allow myself to become a nightmarish creature. So, I won't kill the Emperor unless I can prove he deserves it. Even though I know, deep down, there's likely nothing redeeming within him.

I somberly nod my dragon head. This is proper justice.

Rah.

An often repeated phrase I heard in my previous life was 'with great power, comes great responsibility.' But that doesn't mean I have a responsibility to act. Instead, it means I have a crushingly large responsibility to know exactly when and how I should not act. Should never act. Because, if I act rashly, the consequences of one little mistake from someone as immeasurably powerful as myself are equally immeasurable.

Perhaps I can fix what I've done, but I won't forget that I've done it. Not unless I flee from that very responsibility; not unless I erase my own memories.

I laugh, but it sounds more like a scoff.

"Hr-crah!"

(tshshhsh)

I often say 'dragons never give up their loot,' but that's one small part of a much larger philosophy.

Dragons are not only greedy. We're prideful, too. So, dragons must never retreat!

We can back off to fight again after a short rest, go elsewhere to support an ally, or learn from our failures and choose to fight a different battle entirely.

We can focus on things that are more important while still staying in the fight.

But to retreat? Or worse, surrender? Never. These defy the very meaning of 'dragon.'

Which is why I'll never erase my own memories. No matter how painful or agonizing.

I firmly nod my dragon head.

Now that I feel more assured of myself, I quickly begin sifting through my Devoured memories, tossing out every personal memory from the dragon hunter. I've learned how to identify the useless chaff from Ainthia. Which makes this a whole lot easier.

While I work, I decide to mentally review how her Will was organized.

First, her psychotic memories. These were blatantly twisted and distorted... Hard to miss from a third-person perspective. Such nasty contortions are only invisible to one whose mind has broken itself to fit within the madness.

That's why it's called a psychotic break.

Second, I've discovered the importance of situational context. If she was focused on a specific task or object which can be easily contextualized, then it's probably a useful memory. However, if she was focused on a task with no obvious purpose or end goal, or a whole field of objects? Chances are about 95% she was engaged in a person-to-person interaction or viewing the layout of a street or building.

I can think of situations where these kinds of memories might still be useful. Useful— but not for me. I have too much power and draconic pride to mire myself in social intrigue. As for buildings and streets? That's Pathfinder's job.

Since it wasn't 100%, though, I decide to check the remaining 5%.

...

These edge cases involve broader tasks like organizing a combat team. I decide to throw them out anyway since I only need specific information. I can figure out broader situations myself.

No, that's not right.

I should figure out the broader picture myself. Learning how to learn is crucial. I can't rely on eating others' memories for learning new things. I MUST become an unmatchably intelligent dragon.

Indeed, knowledge is power.

...

Thus, I've absorbed her memories!

I've also learned a lot about who I am.

I should share the 'good news, everyone!'

"Hey, Aitos!"

"Yes? I'm in the middle of an experiment."

He's always in the middle of an experiment. I asked him about those condolences; he was experimenting at the same time he was meeting with the families of the deceased. They were not at all pleased that he was still experimenting while apologizing for 'his' explosion, supposedly another experiment.

Aitos, as usual, doesn't see the problem. Perhaps I should've been the one to apologize regardless of his wishes.

I'll... Look into that later. As my subordinate, his poor taste is also my responsibility.

"So, I got smaller."

"Haah? I thought you'd end up as tall as a castle watchtower. Or worse."

Refh, right on target.

"What? How'd you know?"

"You have GOT to be joking. I thought you said you were smaller, not stomping cities."

"Right, yeah. I, rah, I ate a castle watchtower. So, tried to make myself smaller. It worked."

"I'm not even going to ask why you ate a castle watchtower. Probably some mad experiment."

Hreh, we really do have similar personalities.

"Hrah, right again. You're good at this. Anyway, remember your comment about me possibly being a newborn Apocalypse Dragon?"

"Noooo. This is noooot happening."

"You were right!"

"Your arm has fallen asleep."

Rft. This guy's a riot.

Wait, am I a riot?

...

No, wait.

Reh?