"So, what do you think about putting these gel blasters to the test?" Three asked, her flame-like hair flickering with excitement as she tossed her newly crafted weapon from hand to hand. "Theory is boring. Practice is fun!"

I stared at the twelve divine beings, each admiring their custom-designed weapons that I'd just spent hours meticulously crafting to their exacting specifications. The white void of their divine realm made the colourful array of gel blasters stand out even more vividly—from One's intimidating rapid-fire design to Twelve's ostentatiously golden "status symbol" that gleamed even in the dimensionless light.

The thing about divine beings is they never seem to grasp the concept of "enough." Whether it's cosmic power, cryptic prophecies, or apparently, custom-made fantasy weapons, the Twelve Aspects of Voluptaria operated on a principle of excess that would make even the most dedicated collectors back home seem positively minimalist.

"I'd love to," I admitted, "but I don't actually have one for myself. The metal you provided is reserved for my classmates' blasters when I get back." I gestured to the case of materials Seven had materialised. "And I'd prefer to craft mine at the proper site, with the proper tools."

This was a half-truth at best. While I did intend to use most of the materials for my classmates, the primary reason for my reluctance was simple self-preservation. These divine children with new toys were giving off serious "no holds barred" energy.

The Aspects exchanged glances, having one of those silent divine communications that made me feel like I was watching a movie with the subtitles turned off.

"That won't do at all," Seven declared, stepping forward with tablet in hand. "You need a weapon of your own for proper testing." She made a complex gesture, and a bar of gleaming metal appeared, hovering in the air between us. "This should suffice."

The metal was unlike anything I'd seen before—or rather, it was exactly like something I had seen before. It shimmered with an unusual quality, simultaneously reflective and light-absorbing, with a subtle iridescence that seemed to shift between silver brightness and shadow-depth.

"Wait, isn't this—" I began, reaching out to take the floating metal.

"The same alloy I provided for your katana? Indeed." Seven confirmed with a nod. "Silver-celestium-umbranium."

The bar felt surprisingly warm in my hands, with a weight that was substantial but not cumbersome. As I turned it over, examining its properties, I noticed the other Aspects had various reactions—some leaning forward with interest, others crossing their arms with what looked suspiciously like divine envy.

"Why give him that?" Eight muttered, her moonlight hair swirling with what might have been agitation.

"Oh please," Three countered, her fiery hair brightening with excitement, "this will make things much more interesting!"

"I'm sorry," I interrupted, still examining the metal, "but why is this alloy so... special? What makes it 'OP' enough to cause divine debate?"

One sighed, her floating crown tilting slightly as she shook her head. "The materials that compose this alloy cannot naturally coexist. Mortal silver possesses anti-properties that repel both Astra and Umbra energies. Celestium, while physically similar to your world's titanium, is charged with pure Astra energy from the realm of light. Umbranium, equally resilient, contains concentrated Umbra energy from the shadow realms."

"These fundamental energies oppose each other," Six added, galaxies swirling in her eyes. "Like trying to mix fire and ice without either being extinguished or melted."

"It's possible if you know how to game the alloying system," Seven said with a hint of pride, tapping her tablet. "And as the Aspect responsible for System Integration, I can do just that."

"But why give it to me?" I asked, still confused by the special treatment.

Seven's expression turned contemplative. "This alloy represents something of what you are, Andie Ryuu. A bridge between opposing forces that should never coexist yet somehow do. In the future, you may unite disparate forces for something... greater."

"Also," Two interjected, her metallic skin glinting, "it's extremely rare. There are only four samples in all of creation, and even we Aspects struggle to create it. Mortals cannot even conceptualise the process without their minds collapsing from the effort."

"After this," Seven added, "only one more sample will exist."

I blinked in surprise. "What happened to the missing sample?"

Seven merely smiled, not answering my question. The other Aspects exchanged knowing glances that did nothing to satisfy my curiosity.

"So, it's a cheat code," I said, hefting the bar. It felt warm in my hands, with a subtle vibration that seemed to resonate with something inside me. Great. More cryptic fortune-cookie wisdom. Just what I needed.

"Well," I said after an awkward silence, "I should probably get to work then."

I mentally catalogued the properties of the alloy, considering what would be most useful. A standard gel blaster wouldn't do justice to this material. Something more versatile, combining ranged and melee capabilities...

"I think I'll make a gunblade," I decided aloud.

"A what?" Twelve asked, leaning forward with interest.

"A combination of sword and gun," I explained, already visualising the design. "A single-edged blade in the Chokutō style, with an integrated barrel running along the spine, an 8-round revolver cylinder, and a hilt that can mechanically shift between pistol and sword grip."

"Ambitious," Seven remarked with approval.

I closed my eyes, focusing my Transform ability on the alloy. The moment my power connected with the alloy, I understood why Seven had warned me about its complexity. The material existed in a constant state of harmonious contradiction—the silver rejecting magic while simultaneously conducting it, the Astra and Umbra energies annihilating and reinforcing each other in perfect balance. It was like trying to hold three opposing thoughts in my mind simultaneously.

Yet somehow, rather than breaking my concentration, this impossibility sharpened it. My Transform ability found purchase in the gaps between contradictions, flowing through the material with a precision I'd never experienced before. The metal responded almost eagerly to my thoughts, as if it recognised and welcomed my intentions.

The silver-celestium-umbranium stretched and flattened, forming first the blade—a straight, single-edged sword about 65 centimetres long. Unlike my previous transformations, where I had to focus on every detail, this felt more like collaboration than creation. The alloy seemed to anticipate my intentions, adjusting minute details before I even realised I wanted them.

Along the blade's spine, a groove appeared, deepening and hollowing to form a barrel that ran nearly the entire length. Near the hilt, the metal swirled and compacted into an intricate revolver mechanism with an eight-chamber cylinder.

The hilt was the most complex part. I visualised a transforming grip that could shift from a traditional sword handle to a pistol grip with the press of a concealed button. The most challenging aspect was ensuring it could shift seamlessly between configurations without compromising the integrity of either form. The alloy seemed to understand my dilemma, flowing into an intricate system of internal mechanisms that would allow the hilt to rotate and lock into different positions.

"The trigger mechanism?" Four suggested as I fine-tuned the design.

"Dual-purpose," I replied, not opening my eyes as I focused. "Pressure-sensitive in sword mode, standard pull in gun mode."

"And the ammunition feed?" Nine inquired softly.

"The cylinder rotates to align with either the barrel or a loading port on the opposite side," I explained, incorporating the feature as I described it.

"It needs something more... divine," Twelve insisted from somewhere to my right.

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Instead, I added subtle engravings along the blade—twelve interlocking circles forming a larger one, the same symbol that had appeared on my divinely-granted tent. The engraving filled with a faint glow as I completed it, pulsing once before settling into a subtle iridescence.

As I worked, I felt the alloy's unique properties. The silver component provided perfect balance and conductivity. The celestium gave it incredible resilience and a subtle luminescence in shadow. The umbranium granted it shadow-absorption and an almost sentient responsiveness to my thoughts.

When I finally opened my eyes, the gunblade hovered before me, complete and perfect. It was both elegant and deadly, the metal shimmering with that peculiar quality that seemed caught between reflecting light and absorbing shadow.

"May I?" Seven asked, reaching toward the weapon.

I nodded, and she took it, examining it with divine scrutiny. After a moment, she smiled and handed it back.

"Exceptional work," she declared. "It's rare to see a mortal with such innate understanding of divine materials."

"Thanks," I said, taking the gunblade and testing its weight. It was perfectly balanced in both configurations, somehow adjusting its centre of gravity as I shifted between sword and gun modes. "I'll need to test it, though."

"That," Three said with a mischievous grin, "is precisely what we were hoping for."

One clapped her hands, and the white void around us dissolved. Suddenly, we stood on a pristine beach, turquoise waves lapping at golden sand. A jungle rose behind us, and in the distance, a dormant volcano dominated the skyline.

I was momentarily stunned by the beauty and scale of our new environment. The sand between my toes felt genuinely grainy and warm. The ocean waves crashed with perfect acoustics. Even the jungle vegetation seemed meticulously detailed, right down to individual insect sounds and the specific way sunlight filtered through the canopy.

"Welcome to our testing grounds," One announced. "We've prepared a series of... games to evaluate your creation."

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

"And ours," Two added, patting her massive rifle.

"We'll divide into two teams," Seven explained, stepping forward with her tablet. "Team A: One, Two, Three, Five, Eleven, and Twelve. Team B: Four, Six, myself, Eight, Nine, and Ten."

"And where do I fit in?" I asked, looking around at the hyper-realistic landscape. Every detail was perfect—from the salt spray in the air to the texture of the sand beneath my feet.

"You'll rotate between teams," Seven explained. "Round one with Team A, round two with Team B, and so forth."

"This isn't going to be like normal paintball, is it?" I asked suspiciously.

Ten laughed, the sound like distant bells. "Nothing we do is normal, Andie Ryuu."

"Prepare yourselves!" One called, floating slightly above the sand as her team gathered around her. "The first match begins in three minutes!"

As I joined Team A, watching Team B disappear into the jungle, I couldn't help but feel like I'd somehow wandered into the strangest game of cosmic paintball ever conceived.

Three grabbed my arm excitedly. "This is going to be so much fun! I never get to play with the others—they say I'm too 'destructive' during regular divine activities."

"Imagine that," I muttered, checking my gunblade one last time.

"Focus, team," One commanded, her floating crown somehow remaining perfectly level despite her animated gestures. "Our strategy is simple: Three, Five, and Andie will advance as our forward line. Two will provide sniper support from that ridge." She pointed to an elevated position overlooking the beach. "Eleven and I will defend our flag."

"We have a flag?" I asked, looking around.

Twelve snapped his fingers, and a glowing banner materialised, hovering above the sand. "We do now."

"Of course we do," I sighed. "And the objective is...?"

"Capture the enemy flag while protecting our own," One explained as if speaking to a particularly slow child. "Basic interdimensional conquest protocol."

"Right. Obviously." I adjusted my grip on the gunblade, switching it to gun configuration. "So these don't actually hurt, right? They're just gel pellets?"

Five smiled enigmatically, patting the small weapon at her hip. "Mostly."

Before I could question what "mostly" meant, a horn sounded from somewhere in the distance. One pointed dramatically toward the jungle.

"Team A, advance!"

What followed was the most chaotic game of capture-the-flag I'd ever experienced. Three charged ahead, dual pistols blazing with purple gel rounds that exploded into miniature fireballs on impact. Five moved with supernatural stealth, somehow appearing and disappearing between the trees like a ghost. I tried to keep pace, using my gunblade to clear paths through the dense foliage when necessary.

The jungle itself seemed to respond to our presence, vines shifting and branches bending as if animated by unseen forces. In the distance, I heard the distinctive crack of Two's massive rifle, followed by an indignant shout that sounded like Eight.

"Seven's setting up a perimeter!" Three called, ducking behind a massive tree trunk as blue gel rounds whizzed past. "She's using some kind of motion-tracking system!"

I peered around a boulder and spotted Seven standing in a clearing, her "versatile and reliable" gel blaster projecting what appeared to be a holographic grid across the forest floor.

"I'll handle this," I muttered, switching my gunblade to sword mode and pressing forward.

Using my Pathfinder's Intuition, I identified a route through the undergrowth that would bypass Seven's sensors. As I moved, I noticed Five keeping pace silently to my left, her small "easily hidden" weapon ready.

"On three," I whispered when we were positioned. "One, two—"

Five disappeared in a blur of motion before I reached "three," reappearing directly behind Seven and tagging her with a precision shot to the back. Seven's surprised expression was almost comical as her grid system flickered and died.

"System override successful," Five announced with a smug smile.

"That's not fair," Seven complained, a blue splatter marking her pristine white form. "I wasn't ready!"

"All systems have vulnerabilities," Five replied with a shrug. "Even divine ones."

As the match progressed, I found myself genuinely enjoying the absurdity of it all. Six used her "patient, precise" rifle to pin down Eleven with surprising accuracy. Ten's weapon lived up to its description, lobbing arcing shots that exploded into dazzling displays of colour and light. Nine seemed to appear from nowhere, tagging opponents who never saw her coming.

I quickly realised that each Aspect's combat style revealed something profound about their personality. One was all about grand gestures and dramatic pronouncements, often floating above the battlefield issuing commands like a general from ancient mythology. Three was chaos incarnate, using her fire abilities to force movement and create panic, all while cackling with childlike glee. Five used weather manipulation in increasingly creative ways, from creating localised fog banks to sudden gusts of wind that would carry gel projectiles off course.

By the time I rotated to Team B for the second match, I was covered in multi-coloured splatter and grinning like an idiot.

"Having fun?" Eight asked as I joined them, brushing moonlight hair from her eyes.

"More than I expected," I admitted, wiping purple gel from my cheek. "Though Three plays a bit rough."

"You have no idea," Four grumbled, still picking red gel from his enormous beard. "Last cosmic game night, she turned my meditation realm into a lava obstacle course."

As the matches continued, I lost track of time. The sun seemed to rise and set with unusual speed, cycling from noon to dusk to dawn again in what felt like hours. The battlefield changed with each round—from beach to jungle to volcano caldera to underwater cavern (complete with divine breathing bubbles).

During a brief respite, as Teams A and B regrouped for what One declared would be the "final and decisive confrontation," I mentioned the odd time distortions.

"Is time moving strangely here?" I asked Seven during a lull in the action. "The sun's already setting."

"Time is... flexible in divine spaces," she replied evasively. "Don't concern yourself with it."

Before I could press further, the sun suddenly reversed direction, rising back into the sky in a blur of motion that was both beautiful and deeply unsettling. Great, I thought. Add "time manipulation" to the growing list of divine shenanigans.

"The detail is amazing," I said, running my hand along a tree trunk that felt exactly as it should—rough bark, slight dampness from jungle humidity, even tiny insects moving across its surface. "This simulation is incredibly lifelike."

The Aspects exchanged those knowing looks again.

"Yes," Seven agreed with a slight smile. "The simulation. Very realistic."

Something about her tone made me suspicious, but before I could press the issue, One called for the teams to take positions for the final match.

The last battle took place on a dramatic cliffside overlooking a turbulent ocean. Team A defended a fortress carved into the rock face, while Team B (including me this time) approached from below. The setting sun cast everything in golden light, creating long shadows that Nine used to devastating effect.

"Provide covering fire," Seven instructed me as our team prepared to make the final push. "Eight and I will flank right, while Four, Six, and Nine go left."

"And Ten?" I asked, not seeing the boisterous deity.

Seven's smile was downright devious. "Creating a distraction."

On cue, Ten appeared at the fortress gates, her spinning weapon launching what appeared to be miniature fireworks that exploded into dazzling patterns of light and colour. As One and Twelve rushed to defend against this frontal assault, the rest of us scaled the walls from either side.

The resulting chaos involved Nine literally emerging from Two's shadow to tag her, Six using her rifle to create precision ricochets that tagged Three and Eleven simultaneously, and Four's massive old-fashioned blaster somehow firing a gel round that expanded into a cage around Five. I contributed by duelling Twelve with my gunblade, using the sword mode to parry his shots before switching to gun configuration and landing a clean hit to his chest.

"Well played," Twelve acknowledged as a greenish gel splatter spread across their golden robes. "That weapon suits you."

As Eight captured Team A's flag, officially ending the tournament, I found myself surrounded by laughing, gel-splattered deities. Even One, who had taken her role as team leader perhaps too seriously, was smiling as she congratulated us on our victory.

With another dramatic clap from One, the cliffside battlefield dissolved, and we returned to the featureless white void of their divine meeting space.

"That was most entertaining," One declared, her floating crown slightly askew from the exertion. "I believe you've fulfilled your obligation admirably, Andie Ryuu."

"Indeed," Seven agreed, her tablet materialising in her hands. "Both the gel blasters and your unique creation performed beyond expectations."

"So, I can go home now?" I asked, suddenly remembering my friends back at the sanctuary. They must be worried sick.

"Oh yes," Three said cheerfully. "Time to send you back to your little friends. Don't worry, you'll return to the same time you left."

I wasn't entirely sure I trusted their definition of "same time," but I was eager to get back. Miyako was probably organising search parties, and the Kimochi sisters... I didn't even want to think about how worried they must be.

Before the transport spell could be cast, however, Seven approached me with another floating bar of the special alloy.

"One last gift," she said, placing it in my hands. "This is the final piece of silver-celestium-umbranium in existence."

I stared at the metal, then back at her. "Why give this to me?"

"This second alloy chunk can only be crafted into rings," Seven instructed, her tone suddenly serious. "You must never sell them, or face the consequences of the abyss. There's enough material here for precisely fifty-one engagement rings—fifty for the ladies, one for yourself if you so choose."

I blinked; certain I'd misheard. "I'm sorry—fifty engagement rings? Fifty?" I shook my head in confusion. "For what ladies? And why would I need fifty? Huh?"

Seven's expression remained enigmatic. "You'll understand when the time comes."

"That doesn't answer my—"

"Safe travels, Andie Ryuu," Twelve interrupted, stepping forward with hands raised. "Until we meet again."

Before I could protest further, Twelve cast the return spell. The white void dissolved around me, my vision filling with swirling light as I felt myself being pulled back to Voluptaria.

As Andie disappeared in a flash of light, the twelve Aspects stood in momentary silence.

"I think I forgot to do something when I picked him up..." Twelve mused, tapping their chin thoughtfully.

The others turned to look at them.

"Like what?" Seven asked.

Twelve shrugged. "Can't remember. If I can't remember, it's probably not important, right?"

"Right," the others agreed in unison.

"Yeah," Twelve nodded. "Probably not important at all."

Reality reassembled itself around me, and I found myself standing in the exact spot where Twelve had abducted me—next to the workbench in the clearing outside our sanctuary. The materials from the divine marketplace were still there, untouched, and my newly crafted gunblade hung at my hip, its weight a reassuring reminder that the entire experience hadn't been a hallucination.

"Oh, good," I muttered, glancing at the position of the sun. "It's still midday."

I felt a wave of relief wash over me. Maybe Three wasn't lying after all. The deities had actually kept their word about the time—I'd been gone for what felt like hours in their realm, but here, not a minute seemed to have passed. No one would have even noticed my absence. No frantic search parties, no worried classmates, no Miyako plotting my demise for making her worry.

I took a moment to examine my surroundings, half expecting things to have changed dramatically in my absence. But everything looked exactly the same—the sanctuary entrance, the workshop area with our failed gel blaster prototypes, even the bird calls in the surrounding forest were identical to when I'd left. Perfect. This was going exactly as promised for once.

The only new addition was the small chunk of silver-celestium-umbranium alloy now nestled in my inventory, tagged with Seven's cryptic instructions about ring crafting. Fifty-one engagement rings. The absurdity of it struck me anew. What was I supposed to do with fifty-one magical engagement rings? Was this some divine practical joke?

Before I could contemplate further, movement at the sanctuary entrance caught my attention. A figure emerged from the stone doorway—a familiar silhouette that sent an unexpected jolt through my system.

Miyako.

Music that might set the tone: https://music.youtube.com/watch?v=6IEPSn3szDA&si=RZG-D6bGQxNGQGuS

She hadn't seen me yet; her attention focused on something in her hands. But as she lifted her head, her eyes locked with mine across the clearing.

For a split second, the world seemed to pause. The birdsong stopped. The breeze died. Even the sunlight filtering through the trees felt frozen in place.

Wait. That wasn't right. If I'd only been gone for minutes as promised, why did Miyako look like...

My wishful thinking shattered as I took in her actual appearance. Her normally perfect makeup was smudged and tear-streaked. Dark circles shadowed her eyes. Her clothes were wrinkled, as if she'd been wearing them for far too long without changing. The papers in her hands—what looked distinctly like search grid maps—fluttered to the ground as her expression transformed through shock, disbelief, relief, and then instantly crystallised into cold, concentrated fury.

So much for "returning to the same time." The deities had lied. Or forgotten. Or maybe this was their idea of a cosmic joke.

With deliberate, measured steps, she began advancing across the clearing toward me, each footfall landing with the finality of a judge's gavel. Her hands clenched into fists at her sides, knuckles white with tension.

In my mind, I could hear ominous boss music swelling—the unmistakable, heart-pounding theme that signals the arrival of an enemy whose difficulty level far exceeds your current stats. I swallowed hard, instinctively gripping my new gunblade as if it might offer some protection.

It wouldn't.

As the distance between us closed, I could see the slight tremble in her otherwise rigid posture. This wasn't just anger—this was the culmination of fear, worry, and exhaustion transformed into something far more dangerous.

"Well," I whispered to myself as the boss music reached its crescendo, "Fuck."

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