The Collecotr finalized its selection of genetic samples.

Jotnar. Draconid. Daemon. Firefly Shinchu. And Goblin Elite.

​​

These five samples, all of them superior or of stock exemplifying the prime representatives of their species, mixed into the Collector's form, and all the biomass it now devoured went into giving shape to this ideation, like an outline sketch being filled in with vibrant colors sourced from the finest pigments.

The Collector's consciousness within the cocoon could still sense the world outside of it, albeit through muted senses, and it felt itself swirling in the amniotic liquid of its evolutionary chamber.

The Jotnar hand had tipped over, beginning what must have been an awing spectacle of a descent into the waters below. The goblin swarm would be smart enough to evade the waters pushed up by the impact, no doubt.

Thirty minutes had passed, and by now, the Collector's cocoon was the same size it had been prior to its metamorphosis. And it was growing rapidly by the moment, the growth accelerating the larger it became and the more tendrils of consumption it managed to manifest.

The Collector, still a sphere of pliable flesh yet to be given form, shook and rattled inside of its cocoon as the Jotnar hand slammed into the water and sank.

Bitterly cold waters filled into the cavity the Collector had carved out, and all light faded as the Jotnar hand sunk and sunk, its massive bulk falling straight down to the depths of the lake below.

Never before had the Collector felt like this. Its evolutionary cocoon glowed strong with a bright, iridescent light that reflected red, blue, green, yellow, black, and white, shining in the murky depths of the lake like a lone star amid the darkness of the cosmos.

Magical energy funneled into the Collector in enormous quantities and at continuous pace. Its prior form truly would be nothing compared to what it would emerge into.

An hour passed, and the Collector sensed that it had become a singularity of sorts.

Water started to spiral arounds it, drawing around it like a vortex, likely because the Collector's tendrils, latched deeply throughout the length of the Jotnar arm, were absorbing magical energy at extraordinary pace, simulating an analogous physical reaction from the environment.

It was not merely magical energy from the arm that flowed into the Collector now, it was mana from the environment itself. Pure white, translucent and charged particles swirling through the wind and diving in the water, swimming deep down to the Collector.

Primal Density. At this rate, the Collector determined that its Primal Density would become high enough that any Sorcerer would find it extremely difficult to wound the Collector to any significant degree.

The Collector struggled to maintain its continued consciousness as the glut of magical energy continued to funnel in, infusing every single cell of the Collector with untold levels of power.

This was similar in feeling to when it had first metamorphosed into adapting mana for its own, when its evolutionary shard had changed itself, separating from the Hivemind and obtaining another voice.

Yet, now, the Collector was far better in control of itself. Far more familiar with mana.

Always, the Collector had thought that secondary voice a product of evolution from the shard within it. A sign of the Collective shard adapting to mesh with the unknown energies of magic.

Never had the Collector believed it a voice separate from the Hivemind, merely another projection of it after it had adapted to the foreign energy of this world, for the essence of that voice had always been the same as that which was projected by the Hivemind.

But the Collector heard the voice call out to it again, and as its whispers reached the Collector's consciousness, the world around it faded away.

____

The Collector's consciousness floated, subject into what it identified as a form of psionic communication.

It could surmise this because it knew when its consciousness, or psionic profile, to be exact, could float in bare, psionic-energy space such as when it attempted to navigate the Tesseract.

Every sentient being possessed an unique psionic profile for it was merely an expression of their minds with emotions, thoughts, and memories being simply the constructs of the neurochemical formulas comprising the greater mind itself.

There was also an aspect of genetic memory that went into the psionic profile, but regardless, there was no real physical representation of a psionic profile for it was an intangible concept to begin with.

However, there were cases where psionically developed beings could color their profiles, grant it space and shape depending on their individual experiences.

The Collector surmised that to a denizen of this world, this would seem like a physical representation of their 'soul' as a space.

These were psionic spaces, and the larger they were, the greater the degree of psionic strength of the space's owner.

Thus, when the Collector accessed the foreign psionic space embedded within the female daemon specimen's psionic profile, part of its decision not to investigate further was because the psionic space was so developed.

A throne room of considerable size. Though, most certainly, much of the Collector's threat assessment lay in the anomalous nature of darkness surrounding the psionic space, making entry within it a dubious prospect.

Yet, the psionic space the Collector now found itself in was one of extraordinary scale.

A vast cavern, so vast that its ends could not be perceived. Cold in temperature. Echoing with a rhythmic, organic beat, like the movement of a heart's pumping.

The sound sourced from a great white light shining in front of the Collector, though compared to the unending expanse of shadowy dark around it, the light seemed tiny.

Whatever being was capable of manifesting a space like this was no ordinary being. A space of this size was impossible for any single tinkerer to manifest, regardless of how gifted they were in psionic manipulations.

This level of space outclassed even a Dominator-class Collector, and those Collector variants were optimized towards psionic powers, their minds capable of constructing tears in space that could shatter entire fleets of warships or putting an entire small planet's populace under control.

The only psionic profile the Collector knew of that could outclass this was that of the Collective Hivemind itself.

Yet, the Collector was secure in its safety.

When psionic profiles clashed with each other, attempting to influence control or eliminate the other, it was simultaneously a battle of wills and psionic space available to each profile.

However, in the case of the Collector, because of the built-in Hivemind defense protocols inside of it, attempting to dominate its mind would require being able to breach the defenses set by the Hivemind itself, and the Hivemind had the combined psionic might of billions of harvested life forms.

At the same time, this only guaranteed the integrity of the Collector's psionic profile.

It could, theoretically, be imprisoned indefinitely by a vastly greater psionic entity than it such as the one before it, but that would also mean that entity would also imprison itself with the Collector.

Still, the Collector maintained a sense of alarm at the sudden emergence of this sudden entity.

"[My child from the stars]," came a voice from the white light.

Hearing this voice, the Collector's consciousness filled with the profile's energy signatures. An ordinary tinkerer experiencing this voice would have felt their minds light up with the color white.

A translucent, flickering white.

There was no mistake about it. This voice was the very same that had addressed the Collector when its Collective shard had altered, when its evolutionary system changed.

A neutral, feminine voice. Yet, one exuding warmth in this space full of dark and cold.

"[I once thought you another to wipe out. A star creature poisoning me. Just like the Usurpers who break my body and steal my voice.

But you are different. In many ways, you are much the same as my proper children.

Yes, I will embrace you with my warmth. You, the only child that can now hear my voice beyond mere whispers, even if our time together now is short.

For I know, as you stand before me, with strength you have gathered for yourself in spite of the many hardships you must have borne, that you will be the one.

You will be the one to rid my body of the Usurpers.

As from the stars they come, through the stars they must be purged."]