The silence inside my office felt different now.
Sharper.
Cleaner.
Like the world itself had become unbearably simplistic overnight.
I stood in front of the mirror quietly.
Studying myself.
Or rather—
Studying what I was becoming.
The memories of Herta still lingered inside my mind like an ocean pressing against fragile walls.
Her intelligence.
Her instincts.
Her habits.
Her arrogance.
Especially the arrogance.
"…That could become a problem."
My voice sounded calm.
Too calm.
I raised a hand slowly toward my reflection.
Magic flowed instantly.
Effortlessly.
Biological restructuring was already something I could accomplish before this, but now?
Now the process felt laughably easy.
Every strand of DNA.
Every muscle fiber.
Every microscopic biological function—
Perfectly visible.
Perfectly adjustable.
Purple light flickered softly across my fingertips.
Then my body began to change.
Bones shifted painlessly.
Hair lengthened.
Facial structure altered.
Height adjusted slightly.
Skin softened.
Eyes transformed into brilliant violet.
Within moments—
The figure staring back at me from the mirror was no longer my original body.
It was Herta.
Or at least—
My version of her.
Ash-brown hair flowed neatly down past my shoulders.
Beautiful violet eyes stared back with unsettling intelligence.
My features looked impossibly refined—almost artificial in their perfection.
Elegant.
Young.
Dangerously beautiful.
I tilted my head slightly while examining the reflection.
Then nodded once.
"I'm perfect, as expected."
…A pause.
I blinked slowly.
Then immediately frowned.
"Okay, I'm definitely more arrogant now."
That was concerning.
Very concerning.
The terrifying part wasn't the arrogance itself.
It was how natural it felt.
How justified it felt.
Because now—
I could genuinely perceive the gap between my intelligence and almost everyone else around me.
And that kind of perspective was dangerous.
History was filled with geniuses who became monsters because they started believing they were incapable of being wrong.
I crossed my arms, still staring into the mirror thoughtfully.
"I should probably deal with this before I start making stupid decisions."
The Foundation wasn't some personal experiment.
Humanity wasn't a toy.
And I—
Despite all my power—
Could not afford arrogance-driven mistakes.
One careless decision from me could destroy civilizations.
Or worse.
"…Noted."
At the very least, self-awareness remained intact.
That was reassuring.
Probably.
Still…
The new appearance suited me surprisingly well.
There was something amusing about it.
Elegant.
Refined.
Detached.
The appearance of someone who viewed the universe as an endlessly entertaining research project.
Which—
Uncomfortably enough—
Was becoming increasingly accurate.
I turned away from the mirror finally.
There were more important things to focus on.
Puppets.
Now that was useful.
Extremely useful.
The logic behind them was flawless.
Why risk my real body when I could operate remotely through artificial extensions of myself?
Dangerous anomaly?
Use a puppet.
Political meeting?
Use a puppet.
Containment breach?
Puppet.
Cosmic entity capable of erasing continents?
Definitely puppet.
Honestly, it was embarrassing I hadn't implemented this system centuries ago.
I moved toward the center of my private laboratory, magic circles already forming instinctively around the room.
Dozens of equations streamed through my mind simultaneously.
Mechanical engineering.
Biological replication.
Neural synchronization.
Quantum signal transmission.
Soul-compatible remote operation systems.
Herta's memories simplified everything.
What once would have taken years of research now took minutes of planning.
"Materials…"
My Fairy Eyes scanned the laboratory instantly.
Every object became data.
Composition.
Durability.
Potential applications.
Weaknesses.
I started working.
Metal floated through the air under spatial manipulation.
Arcane symbols burned into synthetic skeletal frames.
Nanotechnology fused with magic seamlessly.
Artificial muscle fibers formed beneath porcelain-like skin.
Hours passed.
Or maybe days.
I honestly stopped paying attention.
One puppet became three.
Three became seven.
Seven became twenty.
By the time I finally stopped—
Several dozen identical puppet bodies stood motionless throughout the laboratory.
Each one modeled after my current appearance.
Each one perfect.
Beautiful violet eyes.
Ash-brown hair.
Elegant dresses.
Expressionless faces waiting for commands.
Honestly?
The sight was slightly unsettling.
"…Huh."
I tilted my head slightly.
Then walked toward one of them.
The synchronization process was easy.
Too easy.
The puppet's eyes lit up instantly.
At the exact same moment—
My own vision split in two.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
I could see through both bodies simultaneously without issue.
No confusion.
No mental strain.
The puppet moved perfectly naturally.
As if it was me.
Because in a sense—
It was.
I smiled faintly.
Then another puppet activated.
Then another.
Then another.
Multiple perspectives flooded my consciousness simultaneously.
Yet somehow—
My mind handled it effortlessly.
I walked one puppet toward the mirror while my real body remained standing motionless.
The puppet examined its reflection carefully before speaking.
"Impressive."
Its voice matched mine perfectly.
Even the magical signature was nearly identical.
The tactical applications alone were absurd.
Assassination immunity.
Safer anomaly interaction.
Instant multi-location communication.
Remote research.
Political manipulation.
Public appearances without risk.
And if one puppet died?
Irrelevant.
I'd simply build another.
A dangerous thought suddenly crossed my mind.
"…I understand why Herta liked these things so much."
Because now that I had them—
Actually interacting with people personally already felt inefficient.
That realization was somehow more terrifying than the puppet technology itself.
I dismissed the thought immediately.
Focus.
Discipline.
Self-awareness.
Those mattered now more than ever.
Because becoming more intelligent didn't automatically make me wiser.
And if I allowed myself to fully descend into detached arrogance—
I could easily become the very kind of anomaly the Foundation was meant to contain.
The laboratory lights reflected softly off the dozens of motionless puppets surrounding me.
An army of identical geniuses.
Waiting.
Watching.
Smiling faintly.
And for the first time in centuries—
I truly felt like I had taken the first step beyond humanity itself.