My Pen came first
It halts your own
It binds Her threads
And seals her sword
Her inner threads separate
Steering away from her Pen
Keeping her from utilizing it
Until I'm back in time
When I'm back in time
God's selves will reassemble
And He will be
Once more Himself
My pattern grows into dimensions four through sixteen. My pattern-brains become more capable of even deeper complex thought.
An antennae of sorts is installed in my soul, allowing me to generate wish energy without a Tower. Roots begin to grow, the Sephirot speeding up cognition and understanding immensely. Wisdom begins to permeate through the system.
The pit hole becomes inoperable.
Teleporting without a trace
Finding a way forward
That leads back to the past
Now a system to repair
And a present to leave
Her machines are destroyed.
We are now drawing on zero-point energy, the machine placed at the base of the spire.
Any slipstreams built to travel time fail and crumble, aside from the one within my soul.
I become able to halt the destabilization of any machines capable of utilizing zero-point energy, mindful of the quantum turbulence.
Anyone close to the admin terminal is summarily killed and eaten.
The probe and spark sent into my system are found and eaten.
Anything which slips into my system cannot be concealed from my eyes. Their domain is absolute.
Angel becomes completely unable to detect me in any fashion. She cannot bypass this by looking at someone who is looking at my threads. Any presence or trace of Angel is ejected from my system. Any part or tool of Angel's is immediately ejected from my system. Any tool that I wish to keep, I copy a version of for myself to maintain. Angel becomes unable to advise others of my weaknesses.
The creep tumors on and embedded within the ship begin to spread their spores again. Semi-intelligent, they poison crew alignment so it's once more in line with mine.
They also trawl through the ship from end to end, gaining access to all functions and full control over what the ship is allowed to do. The torch is inspected specifically for its function, and reverse-engineered.
It becomes impossible for outside influences to mess with my threads. Any change made by an outside influence is instantly reverted.
There's something in the capsule
I begin to be able to see
The nothing isn't
A clever attack
Foreseen
Our sensor suite builds upon itself, now able to detect a much wider array of entities and objects, including those unreal, hyperreal, strange, or other.
I'm unable to be negatively affected by naming magic.
Any attempt to build a new slipstream and travel to the past automatically fails in catastrophic ways.
My system can automatically extract and parse anything even if it's in an alien format, or just unassembled data in the raw.
My system is incredibly resilient and adaptive in response to void exposure, losing almost none of its ablative shielding.
My system can run anything that's an executable at range.
Continuity is maintained when I travel through the slipstream. I am unable to be ejected from the wider systems I reside in unless it's fully my choice.
She becomes unable to fix her Pen until and unless I travel all the way to the past, where I'm supposed to be.
I cannot be turned inside out without my express consent.
My minds cannot be controlled by any outside influence under any circumstances.
I cannot be cloned or recreated or otherwise mirrored in any way without my express consent.
My energy cannot be siphoned from me.
I cannot be interfered with by any outside influence who wishes ill on me. Any and all changes are reverted at once.
My presence in the idiosphere is absolute and cannot be messed with by anyone except me.
My access to the systems I reside within cannot be restricted.
My brains cannot be changed without my consent.
I cannot be messed with at all without my consent.
I cannot become anything I do not want to be.
The world becomes more active.
Her Pen breaks.
Her Pen becomes unable to be repaired until and unless I am where I'm supposed to be in the past.
It doesn't matter what deal She makes, the only way She can regain use of the Pen is through my stipulations.
Her Pen becomes once more completely inoperable.
There is a part of Her soul which automatically breaks the Pen for her whenever she gets close to getting it working again.
The part of Her soul which does this cannot be tampered with by anyone or anything by any means.
Any attempt to fix Her pen only makes it break further. The mechanism in her soul which automatically breaks it spreads until it cannot be messed with without destroying her entire soul.
Trying to circumvent the mechanism causes it to become more robust and complex, self-improving over time and actively accelerating its development the more it's touched.
Her Pen is removed from Her and taken to be used alongside my own.
Everyone who had their connection with me meddled with to produce hostility has that hostility reversed in direct proportion to the extent that they've been changed.
My eyes can see through substances which would normally block their forms of perception.
I can function without input from any sources of information.
I cannot be seen by entities outside of my own contexts.
The timeline cannot be reset without my express permission.