Reborn as a Useless Noble with my SSS-Class Innate Talent

In the dim, hushed room cloaked in eternal twilight, Goddess Lucia stood before her collection—a vast chamber of glass cases, each housing a doll so intricately crafted it seemed a breath away from being alive.

Their delicate fingers reached toward her, glassy eyes filled with frozen yearning. To any outsider, it would look like a shrine to beauty.

But to Lucia, it was a mausoleum of what once was, and what could never be again.

She walked between the rows, her footsteps silent, her expression unreadable. A flicker of emotion passed through her eyes—loneliness.

Though surrounded by her finest works, each one capturing a perfect form, none of them could speak to her. None of them could truly see her.

"How long must I remain alone?"

She whispered, almost to herself,

Her words vanished into the stillness. Her fingers brushed one of the glass panes gently, reverently.

A doll inside blinked slowly, its lifeless eyes seeming to follow her touch. But there was no soul in it—only the shell of what once was.

Lucia turned away sharply, pulling herself from that moment of weakness. She straightened her back, her expression hardening.

Enough sentiment. It was time to begin the first act.

Though she loathed it, she could not ignore the call of the divine realm any longer—not after Charrin had fallen.

The one who slew Charrin had drawn the attention of all the gods. And while Lucia didn't care for their games, she couldn't allow a force that powerful to move unchecked.

Not if it threatened the fragile balance she had worked so hard to maintain.

She waved her hand and began weaving a spell—long, complex, layered with divine restraints and safeguards.

From the center of the room, the air shimmered, warping as she opened a gateway between the divine and mortal realms.

She moved toward one particular case—larger, taller, covered in runes and wrapped in heavy seals. She removed them one by one, until the glass door opened with a soft exhale of power.

Inside stood a doll that looked almost human.

Pale skin, long lashes, and midnight black hair framed a face of porcelain beauty. Only the soulless, vacant eyes betrayed its true nature.

Lucia stepped forward, her voice low.

"You… are the closest to perfection I've ever created."

She touched the doll's cheek, cold and smooth.

"Your soul was lost, but I preserved your form. Your original light is gone… but your body still remembers. You will fulfill the purpose I gave you."

Her fingers pressed to the doll's chest, and the seals around it lit up, pouring magic into its empty core.

"You will walk among the living, and show them that your creator has not been forgotten. That Goddess Lucia is still worth fearing."

She said.

The doll stirred. One step forward. Then another. Though it had no soul, it moved with purpose, guided entirely by Lucia's will.

The portal opened wide, and the doll stepped through—leaving behind the silent chamber of forgotten beauty and entering a world of chaos, war, and gods in decline.

Lucia watched until the portal sealed shut. A long breath escaped her lips, though she wasn't sure if it was relief or resignation.

"Let's see how the world greets you."

She murmured.

Far away, in the heart of the human world, Kyle Armstrong stood on the balcony of a war-torn estate turned temporary command post.

The sun was setting, casting the sky in hues of blood and fire.

He closed his eyes. For a moment, he could almost breathe.

Then it hit him.

A chill ran down his spine.

He opened his eyes sharply and placed a hand on the sword resting at his side. There was no enemy nearby. No sound. No presence.

And yet…

He felt something. A ripple. A disturbance in the balance of the world. Not chaotic like divine interference. Not brutal like war. But still… wrong. Artificial. Hollow.

He narrowed his eyes, scanning the horizon.

Bruce stepped beside him.

"Something wrong?"

Kyle didn't answer at first.

Then, quietly,

"Something's coming. I don't know what it is yet… but it's different."

Melissa, still recovering but walking steadily again, stepped up behind them and looked at Kyle with concern.

"Do you think it's divine?"

Kyle shook his head.

"No. Or maybe… not exactly."

Whatever it was, it was enough to make his instincts scream. He could feel it—something soulless. Something walking in the shape of a person… but not alive.

Not truly.

And yet it moved toward them with purpose.

Kyle stood atop the stone balcony, his eyes narrowed toward the distance where the air seemed to tremble with a strange energy.

His fingers tapped the hilt of his sword absently, the sensation of something unnatural crawling under his skin refusing to fade.

"Melissa."

He called over his shoulder.

She appeared in moments, ever dutiful.

"Yes, young master?"

"Get ready. We're heading out. Something's off."

Her eyes widened, but not with fear—rather, a small spark of excitement bloomed in her chest.

It wasn't often Kyle brought her along to investigate unknown dangers. She nodded firmly.

"Understood."

Kyle gave her a brief glance and then walked off the balcony, cloak sweeping behind him. Melissa followed with a calm face, though her heart raced.

Elsewhere, in the center of the army's temporary base, the atmosphere had shifted into one of uncertainty.

A strange figure had arrived without warning—gliding silently through the entrance as if the wards and guards meant nothing.

The doll's porcelain face gleamed under the morning light, and its dark, empty eyes scanned the soldiers as it advanced.

It didn't speak. It didn't blink. But every step it took was accompanied by an oppressive wave of mana that suffocated the air.

Soldiers stopped in their tracks, weapons halfway drawn but unable to move. Their instincts screamed danger, yet their bodies hesitated.

What were they looking at? A person? A monster?

The pressure intensified.

"Stop—don't approach it!"

A voice called out.

The elf healer emerged from the makeshift infirmary, arms glowing with protective magic. She moved quickly to the side of the patients and raised a shimmering green shield over them.

"You're not getting near them."

She said to the intruder, her voice calm but unshaking.

The doll didn't respond. It tilted its head ever so slightly, registering the shield and the healer… but made no move to attack.

It simply stood, its head rotating slowly as if searching for someone—or something.

The healer frowned.

"What are you…?"

She muttered, her eyes narrowing. Whatever it was, it wasn't human. It wasn't divine either, not in the traditional sense. But it was definitely unnatural.

Tension crackled in the air. The soldiers surrounded the doll in a wide circle, too frightened to get closer, too proud to retreat.

And still, the doll said nothing, its haunting gaze fixed on something far beyond them all.

And then it moved again, walking further into the camp.

The humanoid puppet kept walking, its porcelain feet making no sound against the ground. With every step it took, the air grew thicker, mana buzzing like a storm ready to explode.

Soldiers gripped their weapons tighter, eyes wide with panic, unsure whether to attack or flee. Even Melissa felt a bead of sweat run down her neck.

The puppet's soulless eyes didn't waver. It was heading somewhere—and nothing dared block its path.