First time I've put it in words, “Then I wouldn't matter.”

  Roger scrunches his face significantly, so I continue before he asks the actual question, “Suppose I just holed up in here; locked the door and never came back out. I'd be safe and living in luxury for the rest of my life,” which would be a VERY long time, Mom made sure of that, “what difference would I have made? Nobody would be better off; I may as well have never existed at all.”

  “So you want to be famous?”

  “Not really. I just… want to have mattered. Everyone dies eventually,” Mom's family aside, but even they can temporarily as I understand it, “I just… want the world to be a better pce for me having lived in it.”

  The halfling looks up at me (I'm sure he does that a lot, he's maybe three feet tall on a good day), “Well… not the worst answer I've heard. Let's see what these rooms are like, eh?”

  I walk Roger into the guest wing; it's a demipne Mom made… well, had a copy make… via spells, using the interior of the Keyhome as an anchor so I always have it avaible. She doesn't do things by half measure; there's a thousand guest suites here, each complete with two bedrooms, a small kitchen, a dining room, a private bathroom (with Mom's indoor plumbing, which feeds the waste into the pantry via piping and a portalp), and a small living room. I could keep a medium-sized army here. Now, I'm used to the gold trim, silk sheets, painted frescoes, and such…

  …Roger not so much; his eyes are very wide, and he's staring at everything, “Ookay… you obviously come from a very wealthy family.”

  I shrug, “In a manner of speaking,” yes, Mom has money: Ridiculous sums of it, even… but she didn't spend a copper on this: She had one of her copies build it. It cost her a second of thought, then it was done: Mom cheats, and Grandpa lets her. “Take whichever room you like. Feel free to store things here; I have the space, we may as well make use of it.”

  “Right…” Roger is still staring.

  I wave and walk off to let Roger enjoy his temporary digs. He'll get used to them eventually, I'm sure… assuming I'm in this group that long, anyway.

  Once I'm out of earshot, I hear Uncle C in my head, “So, Alex… congratutions on leveling up. Care to know your build?” His voice always manages to sound like wind in a cemetery.

  I know what he means by that, thanks to Mom's biology texts, “Just the highlights, please: Knowing Mom, I'm guessing it's overly complicated.”

  “Indeed,” The Comforter chuckles, “You've read his… less practical texts, right?”

  I nod… he can see me, but not the other way around, “Yes. I don't really understand why; it's literally impossible to… wait… don't tell me….”

  “Correct; the nature of my blessing upon you allows access to them at your mother's direction. We can't give you exactly his blessing while he still has it, but we can get you something close… which is probably better for you than his exact blessing would be anyway.”

  Because she knows the tricks better, and literally wrote the book on such things, “Okay, so y it on me.”

  “Well, first thing to know is that my Blessing was granted to you before your mother's graduation gift, so that he could give you all of the options he can find for your starting level.”

  “So I'm guessing….”

  “Freencer, yes. You have basically all of the first level css features and creature abilities, provided they don't hit a couple things: First, the scaling costs cuse, as that would cause… problems… on level up. Second, obvious physical changes: She doesn't want you to be an outcast. Third, drawbacks, for obvious reasons."

  Makes sense: While apparently my first level points were effectively infinite, second and ter won't be, which means I'd have a debt of points when all of those progressions came due for the next step... and I agree on the physical changes and drawbacks thing, “I get it. And knowing Mom, I'm guessing she has some keystone abilities assigned that are innate?”

  “Indeed: Part of his mild paranoia. It's theoretically possible for someone to strip his spells from you via a Wish, and he doesn't want that to leave you helpless and vulnerable.” He's smiling, isn't he? He sounds pleased, anyway, “So… first off, you're properly immortal. You're ageless, will recover basically instantly from most things, and if someone does manage to kill you… you'll revive all on your own in a few days. Most magic won't touch you, and you can't be starved, drowned, poisoned, et cetera. You also cast from two different systems, and can you shuffle what you know on one of them… but you knew that.”

  I nod, and my uncle continues, “And that was just level one. Your newest level gets you out of all spell components forever, gives you literally unlimited daily casting, boosts the alternative casting, and lets you ignore little things like dead magic pnes: You are your own dungeon heart.”

  I consider a bit, “Good to know. So even without Mom's graduation present, if I get buried, I can just rest up, give myself a suitable power, and then leave.”

  “You still need to concern yourself with pnar boundaries in that instance, as you won't be able to Pne Shift... yet... but yes.”

  I roll that around in my head for a bit… okay. There is something I am curious about… “Do you know how Mom always knows when I…”

  “The same way I know you killed a number of goblins and hobgoblins today. You know his domain, right?” She's the blessed Mother, and handles ensouling… Ah. I nod. “He gave you that sterility ‘curse’ so there's a zero percent chance you'll have kids before you choose; it would otherwise be garunteed that you would have a baby every time you let someone into your body... but it is also so that he doesn't need to watch every time you get it on. He still sees when your infectees get it on, as they can get pregnant, so he officially alerts himself to the problem, turns the clock back a little, and interrupts with a cure so they won't make more natural werewomen to spread the condition.”

  “...and then gives me an earful for being irresponsible.” Of course, he also just told me how to get out of the lecture… I just need to ensure the other person can't have children after I'm done… and I could really use some stress relief after all the bloodshed… “Thank you.” And I mean that.

  “I'm happy to help, Alex. I'll make sure to fg you on your next level as well, or if I need help with something… you are my prophet, after all.”

  And it is more “prophet” than “champion” nowadays… Mom has done wonders to stamp down on that overly competitive behavior… partly because she knows how to strangle everyone except grandpa, and everyone knows she can thanks to her predecessor actually doing it… or maybe because grandpa was a bit stern with her predecessor for being so cutthroat with her family. Either way, everyone is making a point of getting along better.

  Regardless… Bearcw was headed for the pantry… he should be a good choice… I head to my room, close the door, strip down, and change. I'm used to the feeling of my organs shifting around: I lose six inches of height, my hips spread, my muscles lose some definition (which is amusing, because I'm actually stronger and healthier in female form… although admittedly not by much), my junk slides into my body cavity and forms an opening, I lose the ability to see my feet while standing up as my chest balloons out, and my hair grows down to my now plump rump. I take a moment to check myself out in the mirror… yes, it all went normally:

  My tanned skin is smooth; I can’t find a single blemish. My nose is perfectly centered, reasonably average sized. My hair is a long and smooth bck and rgely covers my ears. My eyes are a very dark brown, practically bck, giving me something of an appearance of always being ‘interested’. My shoulders are quite narrow, and my arms are thin. I am quite slender, though, not carrying an ounce of fat… well, except in ‘all the right pces’ - my knockers are individually about the size of my head, and my slender waist balloons out to the sides and back into a badonkadonk that’s quite eye-catching.

  I find myself starting to heat up a bit at my reflection… part of my nature: I'm pan. I like women because I'm often male, and I like men because I'm often female… which means I get excited at my own reflection when I'm not wearing enough, and need to avoid communal bathing. Why Mom built my room with floor to ceiling mirrors I will never know.

  But I certainly enjoy the view.

  Today, though, I want something a bit more filling than my fingers, so I turn to my pink closet (as opposed to the blue one; they're color-coded). I expect Bearcw to be a little rough once I start teasing him, and so pick out an inexpensive yellow dress with a tight waistline, a very low neckline, and a skirt that goes down just past my knees. Smiling, I skip underclothes, and select a matching pair of six inch heels… I want to wiggle while I walk. A quick Illusion to fake a little blush, some eyeliner, mascara, and lipstick… and I'm good to go.

  So I head out of my room and go to the pantry….