I finally left the greenhouse chamber—its temperature sealed, its air thick with potential—and slipped back into my office. The door clicked shut behind me, and I exhaled. The seeds of the Tree of Life and Tree of Knowledge were planted, stabilized, and under the care of Chelsea Elliott. For once, I allowed myself to relax.
Then the system chimed.
I opened the system space, and my eyes widened. The store had refreshed—and this time, sitting right at the top of the list, was an ability so absurdly powerful I froze for three whole seconds just staring at it.
Unchange.
It wasn't cheap. Not even close. The price tag could have funded an entire planetary civilization. But the moment I read what it could do, I didn't hesitate.
The purchase went through.
And power filled me.
Not explosive power—no, this was something colder. Something absolute. Something that didn't obey force or fire or magnitude. Something that simply… denied the universe permission to change.
The moment the ability settled into me, I understood its structure perfectly:
External application only.I could affect the world, not myself or any living being.
Negation of change.Whatever I used this ability on would become fixed—indestructible, eternal, immune to decay, immune to alteration.
Infinite versatility.Barriers, weapons, constructs, even architectural structures.
And because my ability type was external, everything I made would exist outside my body—solid, physical, immune to every law of physics.
I lifted a hand and exhaled slowly.
A sphere of air compressed in front of me. It folded, hardening—then stopped. No vibration. No motion. No molecular drift. Absolute stillness.
My first Unchange Barrier.
I stepped into it. The barrier expanded automatically, forming a perfect, transparent sphere around me. Indestructible. Eternal. I felt a chill of awe wash through me.
I shaped another construct—a single step of solidified, frozen air. Then another. Then five. Then twenty. A staircase spiraled up the side of my office as if I were sculpting the air itself.
I dismissed it with a thought, and the constructs dissolved into harmless breeze.
A grin tugged at the corner of my mouth.
This power… this was going to be fun.
I reached for my beret—my usual focus for shaping weapons—and let the Unchange ability flow through it. The air condensed and warped, twisting into a blade that shimmered like crystallized wind. I swung it lightly, and it cut a groove into reinforced SCP-grade metal like it was made of paper.
Indestructible. Weightless. Perfect.
"Definitely worth the points," I muttered under my breath.
Just then, my terminal buzzed—Chelsea sending updates. The Tree of Life seed had sprouted faster than it should have. The Song of Genesis was accelerating growth far beyond predicted parameters.
Good.
Things were moving quickly.
And with Unchange added to my arsenal… I felt ready for whatever came next. Whether it was SCP threats, cosmic anomalies, or the consequences of growing literal divine trees inside a Foundation site.
I leaned back in my chair, spun the new indestructible air-blade in my hand, and smirked.
Let the universe try something. I dare it.