My Talent's Name Is Generator

I stood there, staring at Amun, my mind running through everything I had thought of over time to free my parents’ souls. I remembered the moment he had first told me he knew where they were, that they were safe. But this... this was different. This meant an entirely different entity had been used to trap our universe in the first place.

”How big of a win do I need to get rid of this soul-capturing trap?” I asked, my voice tightening as anger crept in.

”No need to be angry, Billion,” Amun said with a sigh. ”This is not the time to let anger take over. Remember this clearly, the Crimson Zone and the Monarch are neutral in all of this. They only provided the weapon. The one who pulled the trigger... was Theras.”

”How big?” I repeated, not letting go of the question.

”Right now, you can’t win big enough to free the entire Prime Universe,” he replied. ”You don’t have the time for that. But your parents... stopping the spread of the Crimson Zone in the Blue Spiral... and even gaining additional rewards, those are within reach.”

”Why?” I asked, trying to understand. If Theras could make a deal of that scale, then stopping it shouldn’t be impossible.

”Because you don’t have time,” Amun said. ”One day inside equals one month outside. Think about that.”

He paused briefly before continuing.

”If you spend a year in there, nearly thirty years will pass here. And to win big enough to undo something on a universal scale... you’d need centuries inside.”

His gaze hardened slightly.

”And we don’t have that kind of time. By then, Theras would already be here... and there would be nothing left to save.”

I clenched my fist, the frustration settling deeper as I ran through the numbers in my head. We really didn’t have the luxury of spending centuries inside something like that.

”Fine,” I said, exhaling slowly. ”How does this work then? What kind of games are these... and how do I even participate?”

Amun shook his head slightly. ”They’re not games in the way you’re thinking,” he said. ”We call them that because of the structure, but everything inside is real.”

He paused, making sure I was following.

”You don’t enter with your physical body,” he continued. ”Your soul is transferred from here... directly into the Crimson Universe.”

That made me narrow my eyes slightly.

”Transferred how?” I asked.

”You’ll take over a body there,” he replied. ”A real one. From that world. For all practical purposes, you’ll live there like anyone else.”

He let that settle before continuing.

”There are different worlds inside the Crimson Universe, and things are always happening there—wars, collapses, invasions, conflicts of every kind. For each of these, missions are put out. You choose one, enter, and complete it.”

His tone remained steady.

”But don’t mistake it for a simulation. Nothing is fake. Everything that happens there is real. The only thing that isn’t... is your identity.”

Steve spoke up from behind me. ”So... kind of like reincarnation into another universe?”

Amun nodded. ”That’s a good way to put it.”

Then his expression turned serious again.

”But remember this,” he added. ”If you die there... your soul dies. And when your soul dies, you die here as well. And you won’t be alone,” he continued. ”Others will participate too. Beings from other universes, sometimes even from your own. Everyone enters for the same reason...to win.”

I absorbed that quietly before asking the next thing that came to mind.

”Why does something like this even exist?” I asked. ”Why would the Crimson Universe allow this system?”

Amun gave a small shrug. ”I don’t know. If you’re that curious, you can ask the Monarch yourself.”

That wasn’t helpful, but I didn’t push it.

”So how do I enter?” I asked instead.

”A token,” he replied. ”That’s your entry.”

”And how do you get one?”

”They’re scattered,” Amun said. ”Across universes. Sometimes you get lucky and find one... and other times...”

A faint smile returned on his face.

”...you take it from someone else.”

He lifted his hand, and a rectangular black wooden token appeared in his palm. It was about the size of a hand, its surface smooth but carrying a faint, aged texture. At the center, a crimson crown had been burned into the wood, a single jagged crack running straight through it as if the symbol itself had been split apart.

My eyes lingered on it for a moment.

”I have exactly three of these,” Amun continued, turning the token slightly between his fingers. ”Enough to send you in. You can choose two people to go with you.”

I didn’t respond immediately, my mind already moving ahead, processing everything he had said so far—the risk, the time difference, the nature of the place.

”But remember this,” he added, his tone shifting slightly, ”when you go there, you won’t carry your current progress with you. Your Saint rank, your foundation... none of that goes.”

That made me frown slightly.

”A fresh start?” I asked.

”More or less,” he nodded. ”You begin from nothing. But...”

He paused, tapping the token lightly.

”...some things might carry over. It depends on how deeply they’ve merged with your soul.”

That line made me narrow my eyes slightly.

”And that,” he continued, looking directly at me now, ”is exactly why I told you to increase your soul height to three hundred thirty-three feet.”

I let out a slow breath, a faint, almost amused exhale escaping me.

”Yeah... about that,” I said, running a hand through my hair before looking back at him. ”I haven’t reached that yet.”

Amun’s expression didn’t change, but I caught the slight shift in his gaze.

”Not yet?” he repeated.

”Not yet,” I confirmed. ”I’ve made progress... but I’m not at that level.”

For a moment, he simply watched me, as if recalculating something in his head.

”That threshold isn’t just a number. It’s the highest a soul can reach across existence. Reaching it would’ve given you a much stronger starting point... maybe even an inherent advantage when you arrive there.”

I nodded slowly.

”Thats unfortunate but I’ll work with what I have,” I said.

He chuckled.

”Maybe you don’t have to,” he said and waved his hand.