Unrelenting
Resubstantiation was a difficult process, and delicate in many ways.
It was especially so due to his devouring of Paradise. The shards of the realm above steadily raining down into his soul and simultaneously depriving him of any ontological grounding, while he was unwaveringly trying to keep himself afloat before reaching the Earth. It was a precarious balance to maintain, and he needed to maintain that balance for years.
But finally, it was completed. After countless nights and days spent in something that a mortal would consider to be close to meditation, the Scion assembled his powers together with himself.
Drawing widely on that memory of gross material emanation, he formed an ectoplasmic caul then interwove it, as if co-locating within the same exact space, a body of flesh, blood, bone, and brain.
He manifested on a glade among forested terrain, in between a pair of mountains. The air was thick with the characteristic smell of pine wood. He didn't expect physical sensations to be so welcome, but he'd spent years - centuries, if not longer - in silent deliberation, in a state between death, life, reincarnation, and paradigm.
The physical sensations were alien to him in the same way that spiritual sensations were to a human who'd never seen a mage working the craft of shooting fireworks from their fingertips; but far more acute, like an anvil pressing upon a thin strand of iron string, rather than a wide floor. Its pressure and tension failed to leave him, as did the awareness of his task.
There wasn't much time left. Burning through so much essence, assimilating its finery into works, ate more time than expected. Karkatriel prognosticated Ozorbothan's arrival to be in two decades, but the fell-sleep of the Scion took most of that duration.
The Scion had... four years, perhaps five or six, in order to accumulate a power-base impressive enough to evite the inevitable.
Karkatriel was, unfortunately, gone, and beyond salvation. The last edifice of the god-machines created at the universe's beginning to guide lesser races to ascension perished.
She lived on in his memories, and for that, he would remember her. The empty platitudes she offered in soul-crushing nihilism would not be forgotten either, although with no malice; the despair of those last actions would be reforged anew in the Grace she left behind, into a bright shield of fuming, orichalcum defense and into a phosphorescent blade of avenging scarlet.
Vengeance... No, that didn't sound right. Vengeance was an emotional response. It was reserved for those who had personal enmity.
Not vengeance, then. Punishment.
The Scion of Creation resembled its virtues; the virtues of God above who strained to create it in the times before, but also the creations he cherished most: humanity. There was a place for flaws and error there, the Scion understood, so it would be important to act rationally and with self-awareness. The vista of arrogance was tempting, but temptation was anathema to progress.
And, in arrogance, there was anathema to cordiality, survival, and a million things besides. He could meditate on the issue unfailingly once the threat had passed.
For now, the Scion needed to focus. He'd chosen to integrate Humanism and Crest Magic into himself at the beginning of his ascension. It would behoove him to use them prudently, doing his most to follow the path of maximum growth. There was a non-dismissable possibility of simply outscaling the threat the Final King presented.
With that in mind, the Noble Scion set out with a goal in mind.
It was as obvious as coming daylight that he'd need to leverage himself to a greater state yet. Ozorbothan was not to be underestimated; his agents fought and fell many of the arch-angels and seraphs whose recumbent power the Scion now held onto desperately.
His greatest boon here would be the Crest. Its simplistically assimilating properties were ingenious. He glanced at its form on his chest, under the tunic he wore as an outfit: a tattoo in the form of a pair of stark golden seraph wings extending over his pectorals, then running down with a sharp-bright spine of orange. For its rather innocuous appearance, it was a weapon of mass destruction hiding in sheep's clothing.
The Crest was a super-computer made from empyrean Grace, concealed as a mere personalized tattoo inscribed on his body. It would analyze, consolidate, and then feed the Scion information and power on the powers he encountered, starting with the mundane, but ending possibly with other Grace-derived abilities he could've gotten.
It was his best bet in this contest. In order to use it efficiently, he'd need mortal thaumaturges to display their craft. He would learn other magics without surcease and learn to chain them in order to learn even more, and then he would meditate in order to solidify his gains into a brilliant, shining ingot of undefeatable progress.
That sounded like an idea. The Scion nodded to himself, and started to plan around the fulfillment of that goal.
---
The choices were Devour, Resubstantiation, Human Magic, and Crest. The Humanist principles you have unlocked are Agragian, Crafter's, Artist's, Warrior's. A potent mixture, with much potential for exponentiation and multiplicative growth patterns.
Before anything, however, what is the Noble Scion's name?
[ ] Adam - Or, at least, such was his name before his grand deliberation among the stars of the most high. Albeit the name carries no sentimental value to him anymore, it would make sense to return to it. Once something is named, it carries that name - is that not simple logic?
+Wisdom, -Heartlessness.
[ ] Charles - The Noble Scion, no longer human but reborn as something far beyond, will rename himself. As he lives currently, he is transcendent, and so it would make sense to call himself after someone like that: a friend in his previous life, who'd been an endless source of inspiration. Codename: Charlemagne.
-Heartlessness, +Humanity.
[ ] Dream - A mortal name is a caprice ill-suited to someone as almighty as the Noble Scion of Creation, the Sage of a Thousand Orisons. After deliberation and meditation, spanning longer than the total lifespan of most civilized societies, it only makes sense to carry that proud self-reflection as a badge. The Noble Scion is a dreamer who became the dreamed; in other words, he is Dream.
++Wisdom.
[ ] Nameless - The Noble Scion requires no name; he is the Noble Scion. That is all there is to it.
-Humanity, +Heartlessness, ++Willpower, ++Wisdom.
And now, select an initial strategy:
[ ] Garden of Eden - While civilization seems to be the obvious solution, the obvious solution is not always the best. One should climb a ladder one step at a time, rather than skipping four or six at a time - such actions endanger stumbling, and stumbling on a ladder is dangerous, even from a low height. The more the Scion continues, the greater he must be ready to err on the side of caution.
He will use the Agrarian Principle to its fullest strength, hunting the nearby wildlife and gathering plants. He will then proceed to, essentially, play Minecraft for a couple of days in order to accumulate a veritable garden of mystical plant life and animals. With such a considerable boon on his side, he'll be able to eat plants to enhance his training using the Warrior's Principle, and use the Warrior's Principle to start drafting much better strategies for dealing with his approach to civilization, which is going to have even better effects considering he would now have amazing produce to offer in exchange for services or objects.
*The Scion spends a couple of days on hard work, elevating himself from nothingness - a familiar action indeed!
*The best vector for triumph is to maximize your starting power. If power can be multiplied rather than increased, then making sure you have 20 power rather than 10 at the first minute is critical.
*Low-risk, medium-benefit.
[ ] Staff of Life - The Scion's foremost techniques, such as the Artist's Principle or the Crest, demand contact with civilization in some form in order to have their benefits reaped most sufficiently. The Crest is unable to learn magic without being able to witness it first-hand, and some of the Principles are less useful when not in contact with fellow humans.
The Scion will direct himself towards the nearest, populated center and register with the local government. A couple of local thaumaturges will gawk in puzzlement at his existence, but otherwise, no one will see a reason to bring out any alarm bells - he is, for now, a moderately interesting anomaly that radiates sainthood and enlightenment, but not the auspicious portent of a messianic second coming, let alone the latent armageddon brewing in the stomach of the cosmos.
This will enable greater strategical play to come into consideration, including the study of additional magic, or making the most of the Scion's gifts. However, since he does not have much to his name at the present, he will often be negotiating from a position of little leverage. An equalizer would be much appreciated.
*Go to civilization instantly, and see what you can leverage with 'mere' enlightenment.
*Starting power can go much higher if you luck into getting a 30, rather than a 20.
*High-risk, potentially super-high-benefit.
[ ] Write-in - Another plan? Subject to QM veto.