My Talent's Name Is Generator

I hovered in midair, nearly ten feet above the stone platform, standing on a step of compressed space.

The air beneath me shimmered faintly, though only I could see the distortion. My thoughts turned to the new passive skill I’d gained when my class evolved—Equivalence Clause, part of the Absolute Domain.

[Equivalence Clause (Passive)]:

Within the Absolute Domain, your will may shape reality directly. But when comprehension falters, price must fill the gap. An equivalent sacrifice is required—something of related meaning, scale, or function. The sacrificed rule is suppressed across the domain for the duration, fueling your command. Failure to offer valid equivalence causes the command to collapse.

When my class updated, some of its meaning had been passed directly into my mind. Not a full explanation, but enough for me to understand the basics.

I decided now was the time to test it.

My Essence Engine surged to life, working at full capacity. I felt the familiar rhythm of Essence pulsing through the channels carved into my body, waiting for a command.

I raised my right hand.

Essence gathered at my palm, warm and responsive, ready to obey. It began to take form, moving and twisting under my will. In a few seconds, a glowing violet bow materialized—elegant, slightly translucent, and humming with power.

I pulled back the string. More Essence flowed, forming an arrow that locked into place, fully drawn and ready to fire.

But I wasn’t going to just shoot it.

This was a test—not of power, but of the Domain’s deeper rule.

I wanted the arrow to teleport straight through space. Not fly, not pierce, but jump—cross the gap in an instant. My eyes locked on the Abyss surrounding the floating platform. I aimed the arrow toward the far edge.

The theory was simple. I understood the logic behind spatial compression. If I could fold the distance between two points, the arrow could jump from here to there instantly. But I didn’t yet have enough comprehension of space to do that directly.

So I needed a workaround. That’s where the Equivalence Clause came in.

To make this command succeed, I had to offer something from within the same law—something tied to the concept of space. A part of the rule I could affect, even without perfect understanding.

I needed to make a trade.

Within my Domain, I would sacrifice a facet of space itself.

Only then did the arrow have a chance to move forward.

Just as I prepared to invoke the Equivalence Clause, the runes ignited. A low hum filled my ears, and the violet ring in my eyes lit up.

I saw them—runes etched across my entire domain, like invisible ink now glowing with purpose. In an instant, my mind was flooded with a storm of information: equations, spatial ratios, abstract diagrams, and unfamiliar constants spinning through my thoughts.

It was overwhelming.

I wasn’t trying to understand everything. I couldn’t. My comprehension of space wasn’t deep enough yet—but I didn’t need perfect understanding. I just needed to make a choice. To find something of equal value that I could give up… so the space around the arrow could compress.

After skimming through dozens of options, I made my call.

“Spatial anchoring,” I whispered.

On command, the arrow began to spin slowly in place. The runes shimmered, then trembled—and aligned into a neat, fluid pattern. Like an equation solved just right. A tunnel of compressed space lit up ahead of the arrow not visible to others but clear as day to my eyes.

I released the string.

The arrow zipped forward two meters… and vanished.

Then—snap—it reappeared exactly where I had aimed, over a hundred meters away. A heartbeat later, the Essence inside the shaft trembled.

Boom!

A violent shockwave thundered across the platform.

The air cracked with force. But before I could even analyze the shot or smile at the success, I felt my body lurch downward.

My foot slipped through thin air.

“Wait—what the—”

I had sacrificed spatial anchoring. Which meant… nothing in my domain was really locked in place anymore. Including the very platform I had shaped to float in the sky.

I flailed.

“Damn it. I just made my footing optional.”

Before I could take any action, I noticed that part of the ruined platform still lay within the domain. And since the sacrifice affected the entire domain, the consequences spread fast.

The platform began to tremble.

The two broken pillars at the edges shook violently. Cracks widened. Then—with a sharp, echoing snap—the upper half of one pillar broke off completely and crashed to the ground.

“Shit.”

I landed softly on the platform, knees bent, feeling the vibrations grow stronger beneath my feet. The instability was spreading—my own domain turning against me.

From what I understood, restoring the domain to normal wasn’t easy. At this level, I had barely any fine control. The fastest and safest solution?

Turn it off.

I immediately deactivated [Absolute Domain].

The violet hue retreated, collapsing inward like a tide flowing back into my body. The symbols vanished, and the strange quiet of the domain gave way to the familiar breath of the real world.

Then came the shift.

I watched as the natural laws of the world rushed back in. Reality knit itself together again. Space reasserted itself. Anchoring returned. The platform stopped trembling. Even the fractured pressure in the air smoothed out.

Within moments, everything was back to normal.

I let the bow dissolve from my hand, its light fading away into Essence mist, and stared at my palm.

This new passive… was definitely a double-edged sword.

A quiet chuckle escaped me.

“But this is going to be fun.”

Suddenly, I had a crazy idea so I walked and stood near one of the broken pillars on the platform.

I eyed another pillar on the other side of the platform. My mind was buzzing with the urge to test something crazy with my new passive.

“Let’s see if I can just teleport straight there,” I muttered.

I activated [Absolute Domain]. The violet pulse spread from my chest, and the tiny red runes appeared, swirling around the space between the pillars.

As soon as i decided what i wanted to do the runes transferred information directly into my brain and i saw patterns which informed the possibilities that could make what i wanted possible.

And what i saw really let me know that the idea was truly crazy with my current comprehension since the sacrifice was insane.

But i grinned.

And still decided to go ahead with one of the options and decided to sacrifice the spatial continuity.

The runes flickered wildly, some glowing brighter, some dimming out.

My body tensed, and in a blink, the world snapped.

I vanished.

And reappeared where I wanted but in pieces.

My legs stood firmly on the ground, but my torso was hovering several feet above them, suspended in midair as if broken in two.

Even the pillar I’d teleported to was warped—the top half floated detached from the base, trembling in the violet glow of my domain.

The tiny red runes scattered around flickered erratically as the rule I’d sacrificed struggled to hold together.

I was a walking glitch.

For a moment, I staggered, trying to force my body back together. The platform beneath me trembled as the domain strained against my reckless sacrifice.

“Crazy,” I muttered, clutching my leg that felt like it wasn’t fully there.

I forced the pieces to sync up with a surge of Essence, grinding the broken fragments of space back into one shape. Slowly, my body reassembled and I dismissed the domain again.

The runes faded, and the violet glow disappeared.

I stood there for a moment, heart racing, then let out a breathless laugh. I moved my body around just to be sure everything was working fine.

“I think it’s time to go back.”

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Creation is hard, cheer me up!