Dimensional Descent

What was once created can never truly be recreated.

It was a set of words, a phrase, a sentence... a knife through Leonel's heart.

He could vaguely feel what his father was trying to say. The path of Self Crafting might be as much his father's enlightenment as it was a lesson.

Maybe if his Dream Force was just the same he might have dismissed it. But right now, it felt like a final nail was being driven into a coffin. Whether it was his own or his father's, Leonel barely had the wherewithal to tell the difference.

Did the difference even matter?

It shouldn't be true.

How could life not be reproducible? Couldn't Anastasia copy his methods and remake perfect treasures based on his template every time? Couldn't he do the same with just an extra bit of effort?

But he knew it was bullshit. He knew his own thoughts were ridiculous.

Every time he picked up an ore, it would have a different set of characteristics. Part of the skill of a Life Crafter was that they could read and react to any materials they had, breathing life into them.

But no two Life Grade treasures could ever be identical. Every time one was created, it would have its own unique existence, its own unique path to follow. Even if it was just a minor deviation, it was a deviation nonetheless.

His father took a new route, diverting from the usual path of Life and creating the path of Self Crafting, one where the Crafter imposed their Will onto a treasure and forced it to mold into their chosen path.

stroke of genius, one no less fantastic than the creation of [Final Destruction]. And yet, Leonel

irises had lost so much of their color that they looked like streaks of different grays instead of their usual almost

existential dread when he saw how flippantly the lives of others could be used and wasted. The Silver Tablet, or the Life Tablet

use this tablet to resurrect Ninth Dimensional experts on a whim if he wanted to. In fact, if it wasn't for the fact Clarence's soul had scattered, he could have

hard about recreating human life? Even the people of the Dimensional Verse like Heira had been able to create perfect clones of the

Ninth Dimensional existences were almost quite literally immortal. Why wouldn't life

felt so very fragile. He was growing so powerful, and yet he couldn't even bring his own father back to life. He had to watch as his wife sobbed about her mother, completely unable to bring her back either. His entire Morales family was wiped out, and yet he had no method of

all

eyes. He hated

touching his father's glasses. They emitted a familiar

was the

the only morality she was beholden to were those tied to the people

else was too complicated to decipher, too troublesome

would probably never find an answer that

he was still very much human... so why not

opened, slightly red, but

Self... imposing your Will onto the world... I quite like that. However, that's