Matthias once again felt his mind leave the physical world. The difference this time was that he did not fight it. Instead, he let the current carry him. He thought he would end up in that strange realm again, but instead he found himself standing in a cabin.

  Matthias looked around in confusion, taking in as much detail as he could. This was not a cabin from the world he had been calling home. This was one from his old life. To his right was a fully furnished kitchen with a gas-powered stove, a refrigerator, and a large sink for washing dishes. The kitchen floor was cobblestone and mortar. There was a modest amount of countertop space, all stained dark wood.

  To his left was a living room easily three times the size of the kitchen. A large table sat toward the back left corner of the room, and a conversation pit occupied the right side. There was a mix of couches, end tables, potted plants, and large windows with swooping drapes. Beyond the windows stretched an endless forest illuminated by warm sunlight. At the far end of the living room, Matthias could see a hallway.

  He was just about to head that way when he realized he was no longer alone.

  “Isn’t this quaint?” the world spirit marveled. “I don’t recognize most of this. You got here first, so it was probably constructed from your mind. So this is what you consider comfortable?”

  “What?” Matthias asked, momentarily stunned. “Where are we?”

  “We are in one of those in-between spaces,” she answered.

  Now that Matthias got a proper look at her, she appeared elven. By human standards, she looked to be in her mid-twenties. She wore something akin to a silk toga, with a laurel resting upon her head.

  “You seem to be healing up nicely,” Matthias noted politely.

  She gave him a wide grin before leaping at him. He was a full head taller than her, so she clung to his large frame like an eager child who had not seen her parents in a long while.

  “It is all thanks to you,” she gushed as she hung from him.

  With a sigh, he carried her over to the conversation pit and placed her on one of the benches before sitting sideways to accommodate his tail.

  “So, why are we here?” Matthias asked.

  “I thought you would have known that,” she replied in an exasperated tone. “You are ascending.”

  “I figured that, but what do I do?” he asked.

  “Right. Most of us did not end up somewhere like this,” she mused. “You have choices. You somehow ascended with several thousand times the amount of energy that would normally be required to make this initial leap.”

  “Initial leap?” Matthias asked.

  “Yes. You ascended in the manner I intended. You are technically a legendary craftsman and a nascent god. You cannot change your domains at this point,” she warned. “Your domains are dictated by how you lived your life.”

  “So I have domains?” Matthias asked.

  She squinted at him for a moment, as if reading something behind him. “Your domains are Life, Narrative, Hearth, Monsters, and Craftsmanship,” she said. “An odd mix. But fitting, given your title—Father of Monsters.” She arced a hand over her head as if the words were written on a banner above him.

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  “That is a lot,” he noted.

  “It is,” she admitted. “But that is only because they do not condense neatly into a single concept. Technically, Life, Narrative, and Monsters stem from your Bios concept. But you lived a life that could not be defined by your concept alone.”

  “A life well lived should be hard to define in so few words,” Matthias added sagely.

  “Indeed,” she agreed. “But now we have choices. You have a tremendous amount of excess energy left over from ascending. There are three broad areas where you can invest it.

  “The first is yourself. This is also the most limited option. You entrusted Bios to me—the foundation of the world. That means you cannot become stronger than me.

  “The second area is me. You can expand what I am capable of. I cannot force you to invest here, but expanding my capacity will expand how much you can eventually invest in yourself.

  “The third area is the world itself. This is the broadest field of investment, but we must agree on any changes you make, as I am the dominant world spirit in this ascension.”

  Matthias puffed out his cheeks before exhaling sharply. “That is more than I was hoping for,” he admitted. His eyes lost focus and a soft smile spread across his face. “Let’s hope I can do what I was planning.”

  “And what were you planning?” she asked, curiosity bright in her eyes.

  “The first thing I want to do is shift the narrative of the world,” Matthias began. “Right now, if this world were given a genre, it would be fantasy. There are many subcategories, but we are in mid-magic fantasy. Magic exists, it is accessible, and it can do nearly anything imaginable. We are on the cusp of low-magic due to the world’s decay, but that is not the core issue. Are you following so far?”

  “I think so,” the world spirit replied, her gaze locked onto him. “What kind of narrative are you hoping to shift toward?”

  “I was hoping to move toward Xianxia—what some call immortal heroes,” Matthias said. “But we are already on the cusp of Xuanhuan, or mysterious fantasy. Xianxia would mean that the only path to strength is cultivation. It would eliminate magic as it currently exists.”

  “And that is bad,” the world spirit interrupted. “We still need mana.”

  “And that is why I suggest Xuanhuan,” Matthias continued. “Right now, mana is the primary energy source, and it is running amok. In Xuanhuan, mana becomes a supplemental energy type. It blends high fantasy and martial cultivation. It allows people to build power in diverse ways. No leveling system. Magic becomes a true fundamental force. High magic would mean dragons are no longer apex predators—they become middle-of-the-food-chain creatures.”

  “This sounds like chaos,” the world spirit said cautiously.

  “But here is my plan,” Matthias continued. “We leave this continent as it is. Let the mortal races keep it. But across the ocean, far beyond explored lands, we begin building something new. A land with denser magic and cultivation energy. The farther one travels from mortal lands, the more dangerous the world becomes. We continue expanding—adding new treasures and challenges.”

  “This all costs energy,” she warned.

  “And we have it,” Matthias replied. “That little ball of chaos. I also want to spend some energy creating a pocket realm for it. Let the little guy have his own room. That way, the energy it releases must pass through a gate between realms. We use Homeostasis and Bios to filter that energy and fuel the world’s expansion.”

  “Should we not destroy it?” she asked.

  “We cannot,” Matthias answered quickly. “It is better used as a battery than restrained. It has no form, no mind, no consciousness. It is conceptual. The only way to eliminate it would be to sever every overlapping concept between it and our reality.”

  “So the only way to destroy it is to destroy our reality,” she said with a melancholy sigh. “My children truly did make a mess.”

  Matthias shrugged. “If we shift the world’s narrative, we add insulation.”

  “Insulation?” she asked skeptically.

  “Stories have power,” Matthias said. “As the Fey mature, you will see how powerful they are. Stories carry elements of chaos and order. Conceptually, they could reinforce the entity’s dormant state. Or maybe not. I am out of my depth—but it cannot hurt to try.”

  “We may as well,” she admitted. “Those changes would only consume about a third of your remaining ascension energy.”

  “Only that much?” Matthias asked.

  “As I said, you ascended with far too much energy,” she reminded him.

  “Then we should split the remainder between us,” Matthias concluded. “We should not change the world too quickly. There are always consequences. Besides, the war is not over. I am no soldier—but I can craft them. And we should recreate the ritual that birthed new dungeon cores.”

  “Ah, that would be wise,” the world spirit agreed. “That would consume less than a percent of your remaining energy. Now… is there any way I might convince you to give me most of it?” Her voice turned playful and her hand fell on his thigh with those last words.