No SV, You Are The Eldritch Horror! (Quest)

You are the Destroyer. It is not your Name. Your Name is unknown, and undoubtedly, the mortals could not speak it were it not so. It is simply what you are called. The mortals decided on the name, and you have no issue with it. Even as you come back to awareness, even as you fully comprehend the magnitude of your loss, the presence of your detested sibling is a lodestone on your weakened senses. A great many memories and powers that were annihilated, but you can recall the Protector with crystalline clarity. It is there. You're not sure where. Surely, it is somewhere far away. But, you can sense that it survived. Of course it did! You would not be so lucky to be rid of its presence! You are both drawn toward and repelled to your other half.

The Protector can go about its business as it pleases, as long as it is far from you!

Your attention wanders. Without corporeal form, it is hard to focus on anything at all. Still, the core of your being, the drive to obliterate Earth's enemies pushes you forward. Through miles and miles of molten rock you drift. Slow. Once you'd crossed interstellar distances in moments. Now it takes time to claw your way out. Molten rock gives way to solid stone. Your passage is slowed even further. Weaker than the meanest shade, it would take little and less to return you to the edge of oblivion or to conjure up a means to contain you. Nothing of the sort happens as you move ever upwards. The only sense you can rely upon is the general sense of your twin's location, so you move ever further from it. That is enough.

There is a fleeting sensation of solid transforming to liquid once more. Cold. Water. Motion. Currents. The sea. You should be able to boil this ocean with a blink of your eye. A flash of fragmented memory shows you doing so. You float ever upwards. Movement through the sea seems faster. Time passes. And then at the edge of your waning senses, you sense something, several somethings. Souls! Mortals!

You float towards your future vessel. It takes time. They leave and return several times before you can draw near. Dulled senses can only pick up the barest of details. One soul is more robust, like a star next to a crude campfire. As you are now, taking over that vessel might prove too much. You glide into one of the other mortals. Useless wards of some sort. Hardly worth mentioning. Your claws dig in deep. You swallow him whole. The next moment, you see! A flurry of other sensations flood through you. The taste of saliva on a tongue; the feeling of an enchanted rubber submersible suit on flesh; the sound of a heart beating thundering through a body; the smell of sterilized air. Information and memories swim before you in a blur. The wonder of studying magic at a prestigious academy for seven years. Wizard. A gurgling babe elicits pure devotion. Daughter. A handsome man engenders romantic love to sweep through flesh. Husband. Dreams of discovering untold treasure in this underwater hulk. The Prestor King.

Tears stain your eyes beneath enchanted goggles. You suppress the wave of emotions to a biteme's whisper.

You collate and analyze the data. This mortal is named Sullivan Keterman. He's from a country called America. Before the arrival of the Ormalo Mages, before the re-emergence of magic, he'd been a mid-level accountant. His memories tell you that means a soulcrushing job of drudgery. Then magic came to the world seven years ago, and he was identified as possessing some modicum of aptitude for wizardry. Turns out he's worse than a middling wizard. Only reason he's here is because George, his husband, is a wizard of rank!

So small; so insignificant. Blink, and it'll all be gone.

Yet, you find focus and the meanest fraction of your being restored in this shell. Glorious power floods through your being, Your senses spread out over the depths of the ocean. Memory is reborn.

In addition to that which has been auto-placed, you have earned a total of 50 Destroyer Points to allocate into these three categories. As you make progress in each category and meet prerequisites, further sub-categories will open up. Each category has important thresholds which will really up your capabilities. Keep in mind, that at the Destroyer's Peak, each category was at or near 1000. Consider that the hard cap. The scale is not linear, and it ramps up drastically.
Power- the measure of your raw magical might
Sense- the breadth and depth of your various senses
Mind- the state of your mind be it memories or other faculties

Current sheet
Destroyer
Power: 25- You can barely muster enough power to destroy a small hill.
Sense: 15- You can sense the flow of magic accurately up to ten meters away.
Mind: 10- You remember snippets from before. Your faculties match that of an average mortal.

What is your point allocation?
[] Write-in

Additionally, your current vessel knows four spells. Novice --> Adept --> Journeyman --> Skilled --> Veteran --> Master

• Lesser Ward: Adept- Defends from mundane damage and low level magical assaults.
• Astral Harmony: Adept- Allows the caster to form a bond with up to three other wizards in order to amplify their collective power.
• Hydromancy: Journeyman- Manipulate water within a radius of 5 meters.
• Arithmancy: Skilled- Manipulate the magical qualities of numbers to divine information.