My Talent's Name Is Generator-Chapter 240: Another Soul Shackle

Chapter 240: Another Soul Shackle

I swallowed hard, took a deep breath, and flew back into the tunnel. I closed the opening behind me, de-summoned my wings, and sank down beside Steve.

Rubbing my forehead, I muttered, “Guess I just dodged certain death.”

I made up my mind to be extremely careful with this new skill—using it only in emergencies, at least for now.

My eyes moved toward Ana’s wings and I decided to deal with her situation first.

Ana lay in Steve’s lap, unmoving, her pale face turned slightly to the side as if asleep.

Her wing, now fully unwrapped, rested like dead weight beside her body. It looked worse in the light—shriveled and twisted, the feathers limp, veins darkened with something foreign. Something corrupt.

I knelt beside her and reached out, my fingers brushing the brittle edges of her wing. Just like Steve’s arm. Black smoke had drained the life from it—not just Essence, but everything that made it hers.

My Psynapse pulsed, calm and precise. Unlike before, when I worked on Steve, I didn’t need to guess or fumble. I could feel every layer of corruption embedded in the fibers of her wing, layered like tar along the Essence threads of her being.

This time, I wouldn’t fight it with just force.

“[Fractured Unity],” I whispered.

The air around my hands shimmered. My new skill activated, and soon, threads of brown Essence began forming—smooth, sharp, and perfectly controlled by the fractures in my mind.

I guided the threads toward Ana’s wing, which still lay limp beside her. I let them move slowly, weaving their way through the feathers and deeper into the wing. The moment the brown Essence made contact with the corrupted feathers, the black smoke hidden inside reacted.

It lashed out, just like before—wild, chaotic, violent. It surged through the feathers like it was trying to consume everything again.

But this time, I was ready.

My Psynapse was stronger now. My control sharper. And I wasn’t relying on pure Essence anymore.

I narrowed my eyes and focused.

“Freeze,” I muttered.

Space bent under my will. Around each feather, the black smoke suddenly slowed—frozen in place as if time itself had stopped for it. It twitched in tiny shudders but couldn’t move any farther.

Now trapped, the smoke had nowhere to run.

I created more threads—thin strands of brown Essence shaped like wires—and began weaving them around the frozen smoke. Each cluster of black mist was surrounded fully, wrapped in brown until it looked like tiny nests caught in a web.

Then I started the attack again.

The brown Essence threads surged forward from all sides. They didn’t just push or burn—they bound, absorbed, and converted. The frozen smoke couldn’t resist. Slowly, the edges of the blackness began to fade, dissolving into the threads.

I watched as each feather changed. Bit by bit, the black smoke inside started to vanish.

The damage didn’t heal instantly, but I could see the change—clear and slow. The shriveled feathers gained a little shine. The cracks in the surface softened. Color returned to the wing, pale at first but growing stronger.

More black smoke twitched inside the deeper feathers.

I focused harder and kept weaving—thread after thread, slowly surrounding and smothering every trace of it.

Some smoke tried to fight back, writhing in its frozen cage. But the brown Essence didn’t stop. It slipped in quietly, layer after layer, until even the most stubborn clumps began to break down.

Ana’s fingers moved slightly.

Her wing twitched again.

The black mist was growing weaker.

I reinforced the outer part of the wing with even more threads to make sure nothing escaped. A few small spots of smoke burst out in a last attempt to flee—but the domain around me bent again, freezing them mid-air. The moment they stopped, I caught them in brown threads and absorbed them completely.

It took minutes. Careful, tense minutes of slow work. But finally, there was no more smoke left.

Her wing looked cleaner now. Not whole yet, but recovering. The color had returned to most of it, and the sharp feeling of corruption I’d sensed earlier was almost completely gone.

I let the brown threads slowly dissolve, pulling them back with care so they didn’t damage what was healing.

Ana’s breathing deepened.

She was still unconscious, but I could feel her presence getting stronger. Her Essence was beginning to flow again, like a faint stream after a long drought.

I exhaled and stepped back, giving the two of them space to rest.

Then, I pulled up my talent panel to check my progress.

[Talent Panel]

——————————————-

Talent Name: Generator Nexus

Level: 2

Activation Command: Power Up!

Recharge Sources: Any form of energy

Upgrade Requirement : Level 5

Function 1 : Essence Generation

– Generates Essence from absorbed energy

– Essence : 90 / 90(+60) units

– Level-Up Requirement: 1800 Essence units generated

– Progress: 1100/ 1800

Function 2 : Null Heart

– Generates Soul Threads from generated Essence

– Combines Soul Threads into a Soul Shackle

– Null Heart Charge: 830 / 1000 Essence (1 Soul Shackle = 1000 units of Essence)

– Soul Shackle : 1

– Anchored Soul : 1

– Soul Shackle Limit: 2 (equals to level of talent)

Abilities:

– Essence Transfer : Can transfer stored Essence to an attribute. After use, 50% of the transferred Essence unit remains as a permanent boost

– Essence Infusion : Can infuse stored Essence.

– Particle Absorption : Can directly absorb energy particles from the environment.

– Sovereign’s Mark : Generated Essence bears your unique signature, bending only to your will.

– Soul Shackle: Anchors a corrupted Bonded Soul into the Null Heart, allowing control and shared evolution.

——————————————-

I checked the progress of both functions.

1100/1800.

830/1000.

I was getting close—just a little more, and I’d be able to create the second Soul Shackle.

My mind drifted to the possibilities. What kind of Abomination should I bind next?

Silver had been a huge help, especially for traveling through the air. He was also a powerful fighter. But now, with this new trait—one that let me gain a physical ability from any bond I formed—I needed to be much more selective.

This next choice had to count.

I leaned back, staring at the dark ceiling of the tunnel as my mind wandered through the possibilities.

Another flying Abomination? That would double my air mobility. Maybe something sleeker than Silver—built purely for speed. But no, I already had the skies covered.

What about a tank-type? A lumbering beast with thick armor, massive strength, and relentless stamina. The kind that could bulldoze through enemies and take hits without flinching. Useful… but not my style. I didn’t want to rely on something slow in critical fights.

Maybe an elemental? One born from pure flame or lightning, something explosive and destructive. That sounded tempting. But my Essence control already gave me options in that area. It felt redundant.

I paused. ƒree𝑤ebnσvel.com

Then the image formed—something smaller. Sleek. Quiet. An assassin-type Abomination. One that moved like a shadow, killed in silence, and vanished before anyone noticed.

My eyes narrowed.

Yes… something sneaky. Elusive. Deadly.

That would fit perfectly for my mission to find the Ferans.

The Ferans were being held somewhere in secret by the Holts, and with that poisonous Grandmaster stationed there, a direct attack would be reckless.

What I needed was an Abomination that could sneak in—quiet, unnoticed, and efficient.

That alone would be a huge help.

But more importantly, I’d gain a physical trait from the bond. Something stealthy, something that could let me move like a shadow… That could change everything.

I took a deep breath and focused.

Transferring all 150 units of Essence to the Null Heart, I felt a sudden pull in my chest. My Essence surged, flowing into the white core. It began to spin—slow at first, then faster, and faster still—drawing in the energy like a hungry vortex.

980/1000.

I grinned.

“Almost there.”

Letting the generator core do its job, I relaxed and allowed it to keep absorbing ambient energy, slowly building up the last of what I needed. The second Soul Shackle was within reach.

Your gift is the motivation for my creation. Give me more motivation!