Universe Creation System: I Devour. I Build. I Rule!

Kael's eyes cracked open, the low, flickering glow of a wood fire painting soft shadows on the warped wood ceiling. His head pounded, dull and distant, like waves slapping stone. The air hung thick with the sour scent of mildew and the faint warmth of a low fire smoldering in the corner stove. For a moment, he didn't move. He didn't have to. The pain was quiet. The hunger—the clawing, endless void—was… gone.

Then it came back.

His stomach lurched. Not from emptiness, but from the absence of it—the way a phantom limb aches. That wasn't natural. He remembered now. The dealer in the alley. The green shimmer of psyche dust. The inhale. The warmth. The lights. The dancing, impossible lights.

He'd disappeared from himself. And now he was back.

The straw mattress crackled as he sat up, every joint protesting like rusted hinges. The dull pulse in his skull throbbed harder. He looked around—he was in the shack. Home. The warped plank table. The crates for chairs. The scent of salt, sweat, and boiled beans.

Voices drifted over—soft, familiar, grounding.

"Kael!" Sera's arms wrapped around his middle before he could speak, her skinny frame almost weightless. "You're awake! You scared me so bad!"

Her voice cracked on the last word, and Kael's throat followed. He looked up. The table was crowded. His mother, Elira, hunched over a pot, sleeves rolled up to her thin elbows, her shawl sliding off one shoulder. Malik lounged on a stool, arms crossed, the same bruise across his cheekbone, much darker now. Lira sat beside him, auburn braid tucked over one shoulder, silver eyes locked on Kael with quiet intensity.

"You're alright," Elira said, voice barely more than a whisper, though the cough behind it still shook her frame. "Malik and Lira brought you home."

Kael tried to speak, but nothing came out at first. He swallowed, his tongue dry. "How…?"

"Dockhand found you," Malik said. "Passed out near Dock Row. Recognized you from the pier. Said you looked like a corpse—got your name outta you and called it in. I was already on a run, caught up with Lira, and we carried your dumb ass home."

"We brought food too," Lira added. Her hand brushed his arm—just a touch, soft and deliberate. She nodded to the table. A loaf, two grilled fish, and a sack of beans steamed gently. "We didn't know how long you'd be out."

Kael's stomach snarled—violently. He hadn't eaten in over a day, not really. But it wasn't just that. The hunger felt… deeper. Wrong. Like something had cracked open in him and wanted to swallow the world.

He reached for the bread and tore a piece free, chewing slowly, trying not to wince at how little it helped. "Thanks," he said, finally. "All of you."

They ate quietly for a minute, spoons tapping against clay bowls. The fish was dry, the bread coarse, but it was real. Normal. Kael soaked it in like sunlight through a cloud.

Elira's voice broke the moment. "What happened, Kael?"

He froze.

The Talent Registrar. Window Seven. That woman's cold eyes behind the rune-glass. E-rank Advanced Digestion. His fists clenched.

"I awakened," he said flatly. "E-rank. Nothing special."

There was a pause—sharp and short.

"E-rank?" Malik said, his voice rising. "That's still good, right? Hell, as long as it's not—"

Lira jabbed him with her elbow.

Malik winced and shut up, his hand moving to scratch the back of his neck. He hadn't meant it cruelly, but the silence afterward was louder than anything.

Kael didn't say it out loud. Advanced Digestion. A talent for eating trash. A joke the gods played on slum rats like him.

Lira reached across the table and took his hand. Her grip was firm. Warm. Steady. "It's a start, Kael. That's more than most people get. You'll make it work. I know you."

The conviction in her voice hit harder than the food.

Malik chuckled, trying to lift the air again. "Look at me. Pussy Hands. F-rank trash talent. Still kickin'. You'll outshine us both, little bro."

Sera giggled. "You're gonna be a hero anyway! Like in Throne Wars! Maybe you'll unlock something cooler later! Eat more fish—it's good for evolving!"

Kael laughed softly despite himself, though it came out hollow. Their warmth surrounded him like a shield against the rot outside. He loved them for it. But deep down, a part of him still writhed.

The hunger was still there. The beast inside him hadn't been fed—it had only been quieted.

He chewed slowly, pretending he didn't hear its whispers.

****

Elira's voice cut gently through the warmth of the meal. "Kael," she said, soft but steady despite the wet rasp of her lungs. "You scared us. Passing out like that—what really happened?"

Kael didn't answer at first. His eyes fixed on a burn mark on the table's surface, one he'd made months ago when he dropped a wooden torch. The shame coiled in his chest like a live wire. He opened his mouth, but the words tasted bitter.

"I got my talent," he muttered, voice hoarse. "E-rank. Advanced Digestion." He swallowed. "Lets me eat garbage and not get sick. That's it."

Silence settled over the table, thick as the slum air.

Kael exhaled slowly. "I—afterward, I couldn't take it. I was starving. My head… I wasn't thinking straight. A guy offered me psyche dust." He looked up. "I took it. Just to forget for a while. Passed out like one of the heads in the alleys."

Sera's hand shot out, her fingers wrapping tight around his. "It's not useless!" she said fiercely. "You can eat anything? That's awesome! You're gonna be like Ashburn! He eats weird stuff in dungeons all the time!"

Kael blinked at her. Her voice was shaking, but her eyes were glowing. She believes that. She really does.

Malik chuckled, bruised cheek twitching. "I'm tellin' you, man—Pussy Hands. F-rank. Useless as tits on a skeleton. But here I am, makin' drips at Saltpier. You're smarter than me. Hungrier too—literally. You'll make it work."

"Wait," Lira said, her silver eyes narrowing slightly. "If your talent lets you eat anything… why did the psyche dust knock you out?"

Kael grimaced, his face flushing. "It's active. I didn't activate it. I didn't even think to. Just inhaled it. My body couldn't digest it… so it shut down."

The silence that followed wasn't judgmental—just heavy.

Lira touched his arm, grounding him. "It's not the end, Kael. You've always found a way. Always." She leaned in. "My dad's shop—Taryn's Goods—we get spoiled product all the time. Moldy grains, bad fish, meat that's gone off. Costs us drips to haul it. But if you could… process that stuff? Safely? You'd save someone money. That means you can charge for it."

A spark lit in Kael's mind. Not just trash eating. Waste removal. Resource reclamation. His hunger. His gut. A service.

It wouldn't be glorious. It wouldn't earn cheers or medals.

But it could earn floodmarks.

It could evolve.

"The tester said… it could become Metabolic Conversion," he said quietly. "A D-rank version. She said it could convert anything into strength, healing, maybe more. If I pushed it. If I earned it."

"You will," Elira said, reaching across the table to clasp his hand. Her fingers were thin and trembling, but the grip held conviction. "Kael… you've kept us alive for years with nothing—no talent, no blessing, just grit. And now you've awakened."

She leaned forward, her green eyes locking with his, fierce and clear despite the sickness in her chest. "I don't think you understand what that really means. When a human awakens a talent, their entire being changes—not just their body, but their mind and spirit too. It's not just about the ability itself. It's about who you are becoming."

Her voice grew stronger, steadier. "If you measured everything about a person—strength, perception, memory, soul force—everything—before awakening, and measured again a full cycle afterward, even the weakest, most useless F-rank talent will double them across the board. That's the minimum. But an E-rank1?" She gave his hand a squeeze. "That's twenty-four times, Kael. Twenty-four. That's how much stronger you already are, or will be soon."

Kael blinked, the number crashing into him harder than the shame ever had.

"It takes time," she continued gently. "The body has to adjust. The spirit needs to stabilize. Right now, you're still in the shift—but within a cycle, you'll feel it. The bones, the muscles, the clarity in your thoughts—it's already begun. And if you train?" She smiled, small and tired, but proud. "You'll grow even faster. Don't get lost in what the talent is called. Don't fixate on rank. You've already survived with nothing. Now you have something. And that something makes you twenty-four times more dangerous than the boy who walked into the Registrar."

She paused, the silence thick with unspoken pain and belief.

"You will make this work," she said softly. "Because you always have."

Sera beamed, bouncing in her seat. "You'll eat trash and get ripped! Like a monster hunter! You'll be the coolest guy in all of Brinewatch!"

Malik grinned and slapped Kael's back. "Hell yeah. You'll be rich and weird. Can't wait to tell the guys you eat bricks for breakfast."

Lira didn't laugh. Her smile was small, but it stayed. "Start local," she said. "Shops in the Tier 5 rings throw out more than they sell. Build a name. Get them to trust you. I'll help you with the business side if you need it. My dad taught me the ropes. We've got your back."

Kael looked around the table. His family. His friends. All of them standing on the edge of collapse—but still standing. Still hoping.

A slow breath left his chest.

Maybe he'd been wrong. Maybe this wasn't a curse.

Maybe it was a challenge.

"Alright," he said, voice low but steady. "If this is the talent I was given… then I'll make it work. I'll devour my way out of this gutter. Even if I have to eat Celestria one brick at a time."

Their laughter rose again, soft and warm, as the hunger stirred within him—not as an enemy, but as a promise.