My Talent's Name Is Generator Chapter 871 Experiment

Without hesitation, I launched into action.

I propelled my body ahead, abandoning the asteroid as I hurtled toward Abor. The vacuum expanded around me while my pace skyrocketed, the silvery radiance enveloping me flaring brighter as faint fissures spiderwebbed through space in my trail. From afar, I resembled a bolt of light slashing the blackness, a comet plunging toward the world.

In mere instants, Abor dominated my view.

I kept my momentum unchecked.

Bursting through the planet's upper atmosphere, I dove straight for the capital. The air ripped apart savagely before me, overwhelmed by my velocity, then steadied as I halted abruptly suspended high over the metropolis.

Beneath me, the capital sprawled wide. At its core loomed the dome, the nerve center of our endeavors, the hub overseeing and directing all.

Silently, I regarded it.

Then I projected my senses outward.

The Dream law activated instantly.

No tangible energy materialized. Rather, it diffused quietly, threading into cognition, reshaping how reality registered to observers outside the close vicinity.

The city commenced altering.

From high vantage, distant gaze, or any remote scrutiny, the full capital transmuted into something wholly different. Edifices softened, contours hazed, and the elaborate urban layout evaporated.

Taking its stead—

A lake emerged.

The central dome and all encircling edifices faded from sight, shrouded under a flawless shroud of fabricated actuality that rang true, not deceptive.

Outsiders glancing at Abor would perceive solely a placid water expanse mirroring the firmament.

No stir or inhabitants stirred visibly. It seemed barren of motion. No hint of the realities lurking below.

I monitored the phenomenon briefly, verifying its firmness.

The Dream law gripped impeccably, fusing with spatial fabrics and bolstering the planet's preexisting barriers.

Gradually, I lowered my palm, the silver sheen about me softening as all locked into position.

"That should be enough for now," I murmured softly and pulled up my status for review.

[Status]

-------------------------------------------------- Name : Billion Ironhart Race : Executor(Human)

Class : Primordial Executor – Transcendent (Mythic)

Laws:

Level 4 - Major Law of Space, Major Law of Time, Major Law of Elemental Convergence, Major Law of Devour, Major Law of Stormfire, Major Law of Froststorm, Major Law of Assimilation, Major Law of Polarity, Major Law of Resonance, Major Law of Sealing, Major Law of Dreams

Level 5 - Minor Law of Blood

Domain: Veritas Dominus

Awakened Weapon: Executor's Staff

Rank: Transcendent

Level : 499

Talent :

 - Generator Prime 4

 - Essence : 1200/1200(+1000)

 - Soul Shackle : 6

Attributes :

 - Strength: Pre-origin (10100)

 - Constitution: Pre-origin (10100)

 - Dexterity: Pre-origin (10100)

 - Psynapse : Pre-origin (10100)

 - Essence : ∞

Skills :

 - Essence Engine (Innate) (Max)

 - Psynapse Fracture (Max)(6)

 - Fractured Unity Level 9

 - Chrono-Severance Step Level 4

 - Sovereign Reversal Level 9  - Essence Rebellion Level 4

 - Hand of Convergence Level 5

 - Sanctum of Judgement Level 10(Max)

 - Runic Ascent Level 5(Max)

 - Singularity Beam (Weapon Skill)  - Executor's Halo (Passive)

 - Equivalence Clause (Passive)

Abilities:

 - Apex Body – Transcendent (Passive)]

 - Trait Acquisition

Rights:

- Right to Insight

 - Right to Isolate

 - Right to Anchor

-------------------------------------------------- Every attribute had now crossed into the Pre-Origin state. Strength, Constitution, Dexterity, Psynapse—all of them stood firmly beyond the threshold. My earlier assumption had proven correct. Ten thousand had indeed been the requirement.

As my gaze drifted lower, it paused.

[Minor Law of Blood – Level 5]

I held motionless for an instant.

This law I had purposefully evaded.

Not for want of potency, but from grasping its essence. Blood differed from fire or lightning. It wasn't an outer force freely molded. It pulsed within vitality, bound intrinsically to essence, endurance, and existence's framework.

Hence, it demanded a distinct method. A recollection arose. I had readied myself for this law and scenario.

Without further delay, I shifted. The next moment found me on a remote island of Abor.

This locale bore no resemblance to prior tranquil expanses. The whole island stood reworked into a gigantic incarceration fortress. Looming ebony barriers ringed the territory, etched with dim-pulsing sealing runes below the surface. Sentry spires jutted periodically along the edge, as diverse confinement edifices sprawled inward—each crafted to detain varied prisoner classes by prowess and lineage.

Suppression weighed the very atmosphere.

Within those confines—

Over a hundred thousand souls languished. Turncoats seized amid my conquest of Abor's Hollow Star.

They spanned myriad races—Ferans, Elementals, Nagas, and others bearing signature marks of their heritages. Some shackled in fortified vaults, others caged by tiered wards, the potent sealed solo in bespoke manacles.

My arrival over the jail triggered the arrays.

Runes glimmered.

Wards quaked.

Then I lifted my hand.

In one sweep, I annihilated the lot.

Barriers crumbled as cohesive sealing laws frayed beneath my decree. Spires toppled to shards, containment halls atomized forthwith, their tiered safeguards flaking off as if unreal.

Within a single inhalation—

The prison complex evaporated entirely. Open terrain persisted. And more than a hundred thousand detainees abruptly laid bare under the heavens.

Silence blanketed briefly. Then comprehension rippled. Bonds shattered.

Yet liberty evaded them.

Nearly in unison, their stares ascended to me.

Terror seized them outright.

Instinct drove some to reel back, forms outpacing wits. Others crumpled to knees, staggered by the reversal, while handfuls strove to bolt, regroup, or muster defiance.

A scant few braced resolute, visages steeled, scorning capitulation.

Still, they felt it. My aura's crush from above.

I uttered no word. Merely peered down, and it sufficed.

Measuredly, I advanced, elevating my palm.

This round, Essence stayed untapped. I reached with another faculty. Perception plunged into the animate.

And detected it.

Blood.

It surged through each, every soul etched with unique cadence. Some robust and even, others choppy and frail. Racial divergences leaped clear—disparities in thickness, warmth, tempo, and pressure yield.

A faint intent nudge—and their innards' blood complied.

It swelled faintly under dermis, forsaking full autonomy. Hosts petrified, inhales snagged by invisible dominion.

I probed intently, dissecting not mere fallout but enablers beneath. Then widened my lens.

Dozens fell into my cognizance, swelling to hundreds, each layering profundity into the mosaic. Schematics interwove, birthing an expansive bio-tapestry my psyche unraveled ever sharper.

Manipulation of those currents initiated.

Circuits in some I quickened past bounds. In others, I throttled, gauging viability under scant flux. Select instances saw paths inverted outright, blood compelled retrograde as frameworks bent or buckled.

Wails erupted island-spanning.

Knees buckled for some, fingers clawing sternum or gullet. Others battled erect amid systemic havoc. Defiance flickered in few, futile utterly. Sovereignty over flesh slipped away.

Attunement persisted.

Each backlash unveiled fresh insights. Pressure favored certain breeds' adaptation. Instability tested others' grit. Rare qualities beckoned honing, elevation, emulation.

The law responded.