Scott found himself floating in the darkened sea of consciousness for quite some time. He did not understand why he remained in that odd place between one moment and the next, but there was a sense of need. There was something that he should be doing, but he did not know what his subconscious mind was trying to tell him with its random tidbits of imagery.

Up toward the lighted spot beyond his reach, images continued to play out before his eyes. He saw Girtablilu. He saw how he barely avoided its initial killing blow. He also saw how the thing had no chance of harming the wisp.

That last tidbit brought to mind the fact that he could use his midnight shadow form to escape his current situation, but it was a frustrating bit of truth. He would take far too long to transform. Even forcing a quick transformation would take several precious seconds. Girtablilu would tear him apart in that miniscule amount of time as he would lose his grip on its bucking backside.

The beast that he faced was too powerful. It was so far beyond him that it was ridiculous. He knew that on a fundamental level, or thought he did.

Strangely, the images continued to repeat. It was as though some part of him recognized something that his normal consciousness did not.

"What do you want from me... er, me?" How did one address himself when trapped within the confines of his own mind? It was quite the abnormal circumstance, after all.

"This thing is too much. I know that," said Scott.

The images repeated insistently, but this time it threw in his moment of impotent shame. He had tried to use an enchanted sword on it and barely hurt the thing. At best it would have been akin to a frosty bee-sting to the gargantuan creature.

"Is there some part of me that thinks I can fight this thing? That's ridiculous. I can't even get near it without using the sweet spot and it'll be on guard for that" said Scott. "It'll cut me in half like it almost did in the start of all of this."

Those words echoed through his mental landscape for a moment. Scott's eyes slowly widened as he realized what he had said. "Almost cut me in half? Almost..."

"Almost?" The word rang hollowly inside his internal thoughts. There was something wrong with that idea at its very core. How could a monster that was so far beyond him fail to kill him in a single blow?

He saw the attempt to hit the beast with his enchantment once more. It barely stung the creature, and yet...

"I injured it." Scott's eyes narrowed. "How could I have even done that much if it was so far beyond me?"

How did magic work? The mechanics of it were a little beyond his current understanding when it came to the actual creation of such phenomena. However, the implementation was incredibly simplistic. Numbers collide, and a basic mathematical formula determined the result. That formula was just an analogy that used numbers as a comparison point. In the case of magic, the numbers compared were usually related to charisma.

Things began to make sense for Scott as his understanding of the situation increased. His conscious mind had seen a big scary legendary monster and metaphorically shat itself with extreme ferocity. However, the truth was revealed in the first exchange. The creature was definitely stronger, faster, and tougher than Scott. However, the advantage was no so overwhelming that he could not defend himself.

"You big ass crawfish... You're not that much better than me. Are you?" he asked quietly.

The fact that his magic worked on the beast at all was proof of his statement. Scott's charisma had to be on the same level, if not higher, than his opponent if such a weak spell could harm it at all. Otherwise it would have fizzled out without doing any damage like it would during his attempts to use his lightning on Sonja. Of course, he had no made such an attempt recently. Things were no doubt different now.

In fact, with the right preparations he was certain that he could trivialize the entire battle. Girtablilu did not seem to have any magical ability. Scott had a way to become immune to physical attacks. However, in its current form it would not be enough.

"Stats are probably similar, but yours are heavily skewed toward physical ability. Mine are spread out..." It was, at first, strange to compare himself to a legendary monster. Yet, what was Scott? Was he not basically a mythological creature akin to a low-end raid boss himself? Even other people from his world would have almost no chance against him unless they had race-shifted. In the dream, his stats alone would be equal to a human in their thirties if not higher.

Of course, in the realm of skills he was far behind such people. Scott looked to the images flashing before his eyes and nodded slowly. "We're not that far off in total basic stat points. My charisma is definitely higher than yours, too. You just have a lot more skill ranks, don't you?

It made sense. The beast was a pure physical fighter. It naturally specced toward strength and durability, with a healthy dose of agility in the mix. It no doubt had a lot of life force to burn, and natural armor as well. Yet, because it was not that far from Scott's own status totals that would have to mean that charisma, intellect, and perhaps even luck were all dump stats for it. Such a thing would definitely explain how easy it was to fool. When enraged it could not think clearly, and stayed that way for a while.

The rules for how leveling worked in the dream were odd at times. Even at level thirty or forty, a monster such as Girtablilu would probably slaughter a human being of the same level with a fair amount of ease. Yet, someone like Scott had narrowly survived it up until this point while attempting to fight it physically. Normal humans received around one attribute point per level, unlike dreamers who typically received two points. Scott, who received four points, would have stats well beyond any normal human being of a similar level.

Scott briefly considered trying to do the math to guess at Girtablilu's exact level, but he realized that such a thing was pointless. Levels were only relevant to individuals. Even two human beings of the same level could have wildly different statistics and skill ranks. What was useful was the fact that it had to be high enough in level to warrant question marks when he was viewed. Once he was out of this temple, he would need to ask about such things. It could also be due to its supposed legendary status after all.

He ceased his mental procrastination and focused on the true task at hand. Currently, his thoughts were moving so fast that they were well beyond the speed at which either he or Girtablilu might move. There had to be a reason why he kept himself in such a state. The answer was, of course, obvious. He desired a way out of the situation. Yet, the plans that he came up with all involved the ability to use his Midnight Shadow form.

Brought around to the same problem as before, he could not help but to become frustrated. If he tried to change forms, there would be a moment of lag between shifting between his modes of being. During that brief time, he would be destroyed. Girtablilu would see to that.

"Raising my skill level in metamorphosis might help speed things along, but there's always going to be at least a moment of lag," he remarked thoughtfully. Something immediately caught his attention. A brief flash of light from below his current position in his sea of consciousness caused him to turn curiously toward it.

He tilted his head to the side and made a curious sounding hum. "This is new..."

Scott willed himself deeper into his sea of thoughts and drew close to the shining point of light. His eyes widened as he realized what it was, and he immediately cast his gaze about the area. Unseen before, he now bore witness to his various skills. The higher their rank and position, the brighter they shined. Those skills closest to the center were his racial and primary skills. Further, there were also a few other skills that seemed new. He soon recognized them as his exceptional abilities.

Upon noticing those skills, bits and pieces of his sea of consciousness began to clump together. They started to shine and little and then floated upward toward the surface.

"Memories... I'm seeing memories that were hidden from me somehow," he remarked.

As it would be in a dream, Scott merely accepted the explanation for what it was on its surface. How he could know such a thing, he did not know. Still, he accepted it as anyone might accept it should they find themselves in the midst of such a state of transcendent lucidity.

"I'm seeing this for a reason. Subconsciously, I know I need to know about something hidden here. Right?" Scott checked his skills over for a moment, each a shining example of his connection to the system.

"Wait.... the hell is this nonsense?" he asked.

Uncertain of exactly how he could know enough about the situation to notice a flaw in the designed, he did indeed find one. His skills were perfection on their own. Yet, there were all manner of strange conduits and circuit-like lines that ran from them. Those circuits did not connect to the system, or to his psyche on the other end. They meandered off into the distance and then joined together at one point that he could barely discern.

"This..." Scott struggled for a moment to discern what exactly it was that he was seeing. In some ways it was exactly like the cursed wire-tap that yellow eyed bastard had put on him. Someone was watching his soul space. They had a direct link to his skills and were able to record their progress!

His eyes narrowed once the truth became clear. How else could the so-called gods update his status when he spent points? How else would they know that he was doing something they did not approve of according to their own arbitrary rules? They were doing the same damned thing as that yellow-eyed asshat, but it was obviously not against their rules for some reason.

"What makes you think that you have the right to do this...?" A dangerous light danced in his eyes for a moment. He never gave them his permission to do this, and even if he did it would have been under duress.

Immediately, his hand flashed down. He would destroy these wire-taps once and for all! Yet, at the last moment he stayed his hand. Scott withdrew that hand then stared at the spiritual wire-taps hard for a moment. If he destroyed them, they would know that he was mucking around inside of himself. It was none of their business as far as he was concerned, but they would no doubt see it differently. As strong as he had become, he was no god slayer. They would no doubt find a way to penalize him, and he could not allow himself to be held back.

Scott found himself to be uncertain for a time. The longer he took in contemplation, the more he began to understand about the nature of how skills, the system, and the wire-tap worked. He could not drive out at the so-called gods. Not yet. What he could do, instead, was mimic a few things that his normal skill point usage would do.

"So, skills can be forgotten for a price?" Scott looked from the section where his tapped skills were cordoned off and then over to the pristinely untouched section of his soul where his exceptional skills were free of any exterior influences.

Skill points were something of a metaphor. They represented his potential for growth and comprehensive understanding relevant to what the system itself could provide. The system, Remnant of Logos as it seemed to be called, knew pretty much everything that had ever happened anywhere.

Every laugh. Every shout of rage. Every drunk dialed moment when a man called his ex-wife and told her she was fat like a walrus, and that her sister did it better. The Remnant System remembered it all, and not just for things that pertained to his world or the dream world. It persisted across every facet of known existence. It might very well be its literal fabric, the very tapestry that acted as the foundation of all realities.

In less grand terms, he came to realize that it was legitimately the operating system and physical framework that ran creation itself. On top of that, it essentially had infinite memory storage capacity. It was omniscient. Omnipresent.

Hell, it was omni-prescient to some extent as it knew to send him information even before he knew he wanted to ask! Even at that moment, he was already receiving a spiritual download that he needed desperately. That was the source of his occasional strange knowledge, of anyone's strange knowledge really. The odd hunch, or prophetic dream. Deja Vu, while considered to be something akin to a brain fart was actually caused by the system letting someone know something just before they realize that they need to know it. Thus, they might experience the same moment twice.

"Who knew that a movie starring Keanu Reeves in the early days of his career would get it right?" he asked rhetorically. Of course, his whimsical statement soon led to a moment of incredulity. "They call themselves gods... when something like you exists?"

If ever there was a true deity in existence, it had nothing on this system! It fit all of the checkmarks, and it even seemed to give a damn about people as evidenced through the help he had received.

He truly doubted that other people were not receiving help with their screwed up situations even now. Though, from what little he could glean of its nature it did seem to be fairly neutral. If he directed a thought toward it, the system would respond. Otherwise it seemed content to go about its business uninterrupted, and maintained an atmosphere that seemingly resonated with a single thought that in Scott's understanding seemed to be, "What do you need of me? I am somewhat busy, but I always have time for my children..."

This odd system that ran all of creation seemingly viewed the people in it as its children for some reason. It was strangely touching.

Scott tried to ask something profound like, "What is the meaning of life?" Remnant Logos merely responded with a single series of images. A child was born. It grew up and made many friends and enemies. Memories were had. Time passed. The child grew into an old man and then died. After the old man died, another child was born.

Any generic question that he asked often came back with an incredibly simple answer in a visual form. In hindsight, they were always answers that he could easily have discerned on his own. Of course, given how busy the system must have been at any given moment it might not be able to give him any truly detailed answers. If anything, Scott suspected that this visual form of language might be the reason people thought themselves to be psychic at times. It also made sense from a logical standpoint. Why translate thoughts into words and for an untold number of languages, when a single series of universally understandable images might suffice.

Obviously the system could speak in words. It had done so with him through text at least once or twice before.

"Why me?" asked Scott. "Why is all of this centered around me?"

The system did not respond for a moment. For a time Scott thought himself to be abandoned by it. However, it soon responded by showing him an image.

"That. Is that..." he asked quietly.

There was an image of himself standing before him, with a few crucial differences. For one thing the image radiated a soft clear light that cut through the murky gloom around him. He had bright blue hair, eyes the color of a polished emerald, and large bird wings with pure white feathers.

Suddenly, the strangely beautiful image threw his head back and seemingly cried out in pain. His feathers fell away and were soon replaced by leathery skin like that of a bat. His fingernails and toenails became claws. His peerless pearlescent teeth morphed slightly and became fanged. His elfin ears widened a little and became pointed in multiple places like the frill of a lizard.

More changes occurred. Horns appeared atop his head, massively curved and majestic. The pupils of his eyes became serpentine slits, and a crocodilian tail grew from his tailbone.

"What... is this..?" asked Scott. He felt no horror upon seeing that image. Instead, it calmed him somehow. The new version of his perfect self was almost demonic in appearance, and yet it still radiated that warm peaceful light. Now, however, it also radiated a sense of deadly purpose.

"What does that mean?" pressed Scott. "What does any of this mean?"

This time the system did not answer him directly. Instead it produced another cryptic image. It was the same image as the meaning for life that it had given. Except, this time the two versions of Scott stood nearby as though they intended to stand guard over the newborn's cradle. Soon an explosion of newborn life occurred. A veritable sea of squalling babies appeared, and then some grew up while others were born. The two versions of Scott watched them and occasionally played music on a sweet looking guitar.

Tears came to his eyes, though he did not know why. "That just makes me have more questions! What does it mean?"

Remnant Logos whispered, "Remember..."

Scott stared off into the void for a moment. That one word held great meaning. Too much meaning, if the truth were to be told. There was obviously something about himself that he did now know. Something necessary, if not actually important to his life.

He tried to ask Logos further questions, but the system did not answer. A sense of weariness pervaded the area. Like a tired old man, the system could not be bothered for a while due to exhaustion.

"Right... I wonder how much of any of this I'll remember later?" Bits and pieces of his soul stuff clumped together and carried his memories to the surface, but it would be quite some time before those fragments of memory rendered a proper scene inside his normal consciousness.

Still, he had hope. Those memories were broken free from their hiding place and were surfacing now. It was only a matter of time before he recalled everything that he had learned.

For the moment, however, there was a more pressing concern. What did he do about Girtablilu? A simple upgrade to his skill ranks would not be enough. There was a distortion, lag, between his transformations.

The reason for that lag was quite apparent to him now that he could see his soul space. His racial skills were unnaturally divided by the interference from the wire-tap. Sort of a system within a system, a plugin to be precise, that wire-tap would cause Remnant Logos to function a certain way for Earth and the Dream.

Scott looked over the plugin used by the administrative team then frowned. It was almost as though it were specifically designed to cripple his metamorphic functions. Many of his racial feats were nerfed in that regard. The extreme weakness to light based elements also seemed to be due to interference from a plugin.

"These bastards... They come to Earth and do whatever they want, but act like we're out of line if we don't play by their rules." Scott snorted in disgust.

He glanced over to his exceptional skills then back over to his racial skills. A plan began to foment within the addled meat pie that he called a brain. "Can I copy my skills and paste them over in the exceptional area?"

It was certainly worth a try! The degenerates who were screwing around with two different worlds could not access that area. There was no plugin support!

"How, though..." Scott studied the situation for a moment. He came to the conclusion that skills were basically just connections to Remnant Logos. They were a spot in his spiritual space where knowledge could be downloaded and consciously accessed.

The exceptional skills were the same thing, except they did not work within the framework of a plugin existence. They were universal abilities that worked the same regardless of where he might go.

Scott stretched his hand into the exceptional field and began to question its existence. Just as it had happened with Logos, he received flashes of insight. It went by many names, but there was a spiritual essence that personified his potential. He knew it as skill points. He would need to expend a considerable amount of them to create a skill slot, and then even more to add a new skill. The skill would no longer grow in skill rank, as it would be its universal version.

The actual cost would vary with the skill, and he would need to avoid using the old skill to reduce the possibility of a conflict. Yet, the new version would no longer be bound by the rules of the plugin. In this instance, the metamorphosis skill would become instantly accessible at any time and would require no life force to maintain, as it should have been all along.

"Comes with another price, though..." mumbled Scott.

He had not reached an age category that would allow him to use alternate forms other than the three that he had. If he made metamorphosis into an exceptional skill, it would never grow. He would have absolute use of what he currently possessed, and it would allow for new functionality that he did not currently have as well. However, it could only expand upon what it was and could never add something entirely new to the mix.

Three forms would be all that he might ever possess. This was not a rule of the so-called gods, this was a choice for himself. By imposing a limit, he could gain absolute use of his ability within those boundaries. Further, the gods could not deny his ability to change forms.

"I won't be able to grow to a new age category through the plugin's method, either..." Scott was unsettled by his own words. As things stood, his age category would increase based on the number of years that he lived and his level. However, that was a bottle neck imposed by the gods. His metamorphosis ability was actually the reason he could grow so much larger, so quickly. All true dragons had the ability to some extent. It allowed them to gain incredible mass and size in a short time.

If he changed the way his metamorphic capabilities worked, he would be able to do a lot of things with it but the biggest negative would be that his growth would become entirely dependent on a different factor. Magical power and life force. He would need to acquire a tremendous amount of it to grow permanently.

Scott fiddled with his soul stuff for a moment in search of an answer. This was an important step. He had to permanently alter himself if he intended to survive the coming battle and return to his life.

"Everything comes with a cost..." he said cryptically. There was a way to do what he needed to do, but the cost was pretty severe.

He thought of Sonja. He thought of Shara and Ashton. He thought of many people. He thought of himself and what he had learned. There was only one way to make all of this work.

"Awakening will permanently alter me, huh?" Scott chuckled softly in the murky depths of his soul. "You already knew what I would need to do."

Logos had even given him a visual guide, so to speak. Scott ceased in his procrastination then reached out to his metamorphosis skill. It would take most of the four hundred odd skill points that he'd been given, which was not a big surprise, but it would also take something far more fundamental from him.

Scott closed his eyes, though it was unnecessary given where he was. He envisioned the image from before. He saw himself shift and change into a humanoid form that has draconic elements.

The inky gloom surrounding him and began to churn. The untold potential found only in the unknown, the primordial darkness, wrapped around him like a jet black cocoon.

His metamorphosis skill appeared as an exceptional ability a moment before the cocoon began to harden. Soon, it cracked open.

Inside a new Scott had been born. Taller than before, and even more physically imposing, his hair now extended down his back in a wild mane. Tiny horns broke the spiritual approximation of his flesh then grew slightly upwards and curved back.

Pupils narrowed to slits gave a serpentine appearance to his eyes, and his nails had hardened even more than before. Almost imperceptible iridescent scales coated his body to a far greater degree than before.

There was a wild, dark, beauty to the man now. He was as much a beast as he was a man. His ears now sported three decisive points which gave them an appearance similar to that of a lizard's frill. Though, they were thicker and only the size of normal human ears.

He did not grow a tail, however.