My Talent's Name Is Generator

Chapter 746: The New Summon

We had left Dragos behind a couple of hours ago. The ship cruised steadily toward Sector Zero, the escort vessels holding formation around us.

For the first time since departure, I was alone in my room. The rest of the ship had settled into its own rhythm after everyone finished poking Steve about whatever details he had been willing to share regarding Mazikeen. He had handled it with his usual mix of deflection and embarrassment.

I let the quiet settle.

My attention turned inward, to the bundle of memories I had deliberately halted the moment I bound the Eternal as my summon. At the time, there hadn’t been space for them. Now there was. I was curious, not just about the summon itself, but about what kind of existence produced a being like his.

I sat down on the bed, steadied my breathing, and released the restraint.

The memories came immediately.

I stood on a vast parade ground, the surface beneath my feet polished to a sterile sheen, stretching endlessly in every direction. The sky above was an artificial gradient, too uniform to be natural, light diffused evenly without a visible source. Rows upon rows of figures stood in formation around me, all identical in posture, all perfectly aligned.

Eternals.

Tall, ash-gray forms, white hair combed back with mechanical precision, black glass eyes reflecting the same light from the same angles. Their presence pressed down from every side. A structure that did not tolerate deviation.

Someone was speaking.

I knew that much. I could see the figure at the front, elevated slightly, gesturing as if delivering something important. But there was no sound. No words reached me. It was like watching a ceremony through thick glass.

The Eternal whose memories I was viewing stood motionless throughout it all. No reaction. No emotion. Obedience so complete it no longer required effort.

Then the scene shifted.

I was moving down a corridor now, walls lined with translucent panels and flowing streams of light. Data moved everywhere, holographic projections forming and dissolving in the air, layers of information stacked so densely they blurred into abstraction. The place felt advanced beyond comparison, not because it was flashy, but because everything was purposeful.

This Eternal walked with familiarity.

He stopped in a chamber at the end of the corridor.

Inside, the lighting softened. A single structure dominated the room, a bed-like construct suspended slightly above the floor, surrounded by curved instruments and hovering interfaces. The Eternal lay down without hesitation, arms settling at his sides.

Moments later, someone entered.

She was human.

The realization hit immediately.

A human woman, standing in a place that should not have allowed her to exist.

She moved toward the bed, hands steady, eyes focused on the instruments surrounding the Eternal. Whatever her role was, she knew it well. Her fingers hovered just above the interfaces, about to begin adjustments, about to do whatever she had come there to do.

The Eternal remained still.

For a brief moment, she looked up.

Their eyes met.

There was no fear in her.

I didn’t get to see more.

Before she could act, before a single instrument responded to her touch, the memory cut off abruptly, severed mid-moment, leaving the image hanging unfinished in my mind.

I opened my eyes.

Many thoughts crowded my mind.

A human with the Eternals. That alone raised more questions than answers. Were other races present as well, hidden deeper within their hierarchy? And what role had that Eternal been playing in that place? The memory was too short, too abruptly severed to draw any solid conclusions from it. What surprised me more was how little I had gained from it. I had expected my Sealing law to deepen, based on the memories, but there had been nothing. Just a fragment, incomplete and frustratingly quiet.

I let out a slow breath and stopped circling the questions.

Instead, I summoned him.

Crimson mist surged outward as the runic circle formed in front of me, expanding smoothly through the air. Now that I had real experience with runes, the sight of it gave me pause. This wasn’t crude or ceremonial. The structure was layered, dense, and precise in ways that made my scalp prickle. Advanced didn’t even begin to cover it. If I tried to fully decipher that circle as it was, I was certain it would take years.

The thought barely finished before the mist thickened and began to part.

A figure emerged from within.

The body was matte black, not reflective and not metallic, but dense, like compressed void given shape. The proportions were exact, almost uncomfortably so, as if every measurement had been chosen rather than grown into. There was no hair. No markings. Nothing decorative or symbolic.

His eyes opened last.

Red irises, deep and luminous, set against black sclera. Not glass-like, not artificial in the way Eternal eyes had been when he was alive. These were different.

He stood there in silence, the crimson mist dissipating around him, and surveyed the room with a stillness that felt unnatural even compared to my other summons. His gaze moved once, taking in the space, the walls, the faint hum of the ship, before finally settling on me.

”Who are you?” he asked.

I blinked, caught off guard.

Considering he had been Transcendent when I killed him, not so different from Aurora in that regard, I had expected at least fragments to remain. Some residue of memory, some awareness of what he once was. Apparently, Eternals didn’t follow the same rules.

”Who do you think I am?” I asked instead.

His expression shifted, subtle but unmistakable, as if some internal process had reached a conclusion.

”I feel ownership,” he said after a moment. ”A binding. A directive that originates from you. Are you my creator?”

I studied his eyes, surprised by how cleanly he had arrived at that answer.

”Yes,” I said. ”I am.”

He accepted it without resistance.

”Then why was I created?” he asked.

”To fulfill my will,” I replied. ”To act when I command it.”

There was no visible reaction.

”Your will,” he repeated. ”What do you wish for?”

”I have many wishes,” I said. ”You’ll receive orders when the time comes. For now, tell me what you remember.”

He tilted his head slightly, an echo of curiosity rather than confusion.

”Nothing,” he said. ”There are no memories. Only absence. Then crimson light. Then you.”

The answer disappointed me more than I expected. I had hoped for something useful, even distorted fragments. Instead, there was only a clean slate.

”Alright,” I said after a brief pause. ”Come with me. I’ll introduce you to my other creations.”

I turned and walked toward the door. He followed immediately, falling into step behind me without being told. As we left the room, I could feel his gaze on my back, steady and analytical, as if he were already trying to understand the shape of the one who now stood at the center of his existence.

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