Transmigrated into Eroge as the Simp, but I Refuse This Fate

Capítulo 327: Forming

Damien lowered his gaze to the nest forming at his sternum. He felt it there now—a damp, malleable mass of energy, pulsing in rhythm with his heartbeat. It wasn’t just swirling mana anymore; it was becoming something.

Forming.

He inhaled slowly, deliberately, drawing the ambient mana through his lungs, across his skin—gentle, patient. Then exhaled. He guided the flow into the nest. His fingers twitched as arcs of power looped through his limbs back into the core.

A warmth slid through him, winding around his spine and into his hips. The nest glowed, dim at first, then brighter. It throbbed—like a heartbeat of pure elemental synergy. Wind, stone, flame, water—all pulsing in harmony. He could feel the cool seep of water, the searing spark of flame, the whisper of wind, the steady pressure of earth.

He let them come. One by one, then all together. Tidal, volcanic, airy, grounding—each pulse slid into the nest, settling into its depth.

This was neither chaos nor ritual. It was natural.

Behind his closed eyes, the battlefield contributed its energy: the beast still clashing with the shadowed intruder, raw mana forging in the air. Each strike, each parry, sent ripples through the pool. Damien tapped into that too—mining those reverberations, coaxing them into his core. His mind narrowed. Focused. The world hazed away until only the nest remained.

He felt a whisper at the edge, glinting against the flood of emotions and pressure: something additional. Not a typical elemental signature.

Dark residue.

He let it in—gently, cautiously. That last shadowed echo settled around the perimeter of the nest, not mixing in, but coaching the symmetry.

Yes. He could feel the equilibrium.

—–

The battlefield sound turned distant, filtered. He opened his eyes. The beast and the silhouette still fought in the pool’s glow, but his center was clearer now. The nest at his chest pulsed stronger than his own heartbeat—and when he took a breath, it responded. Not layered over his lungs, but part of them.

He inhaled again, deeper. The nest drew from the pool, from the forest, from the atmospheric pulse of the colossi’s distant tremors. He felt the weight of the colossi’s battle too—their energy flows humming through the earth like faint cables.

—–

A sudden crack—farther in the forest canopy—echoed metal and wood snapping. The beast roared, and Damien instinctively stepped forward, still crouched, as if the nest had grown legs and wanted him upright.

“Now…” he whispered.

He opened himself fully to the current. He turned his palms upward, accepting. The elements poured in. A wave of heat washed through his veins—fire. The storm in his sternum shifted pleasantly. A weight, firm as earth, settled his bones. A cool breeze threaded through his spine—air. A pull grounded him deeper into the pool—water. All at once, yet separated by channels in the nest. Each one answered. None collided. None smothered another.

Harmony.

He could feel it. He raised his hand, flexing. The air pressure around it shifted. A faint breeze whispered. Heat pulsed at his fingertips. A grain of dust vibrated with intent. His arm wasn’t just physical now—it was a conduit.

In that moment, the beast behind him lunged. Damien didn’t watch—he felt it. As the beast struck, a surge of power pushed back. He inhaled, directed the current from his nest downward—across his legs, into the earth. The shockwave dissipated in the stone.

His heart hammered—not from exertion, but from wonder.

He was controlling it.

The nest pulsed in response, stronger.

—–

From the battlefield behind him came a metallic clang. The beast faltered. Damien turned, uneasily.

Everything was feeding his core. The violent spell of battle, the crackling energies of elusory flame from that silhouette’s claws, the waterfall’s living pool… But now, the heart at his chest throbbed like a well-oiled drum.

He rose to his feet. The ragged giants overhead might crumble the sky, but here, in this clearing beneath the cascade—he stood whole.

He closed his eyes, arms spread slightly apart, chest rising.

The nest answered.

A soft luminescence glowed beneath his skin.

Fingers of light flickered outward. He could feel each element softly distributing across his frame: water moisture at his joints, earth tension rooting him to the rock, air lifting his wingspan of ribcage into focus, fire warming the core of his shoulders. Even the dark residue wrapped around his spine—neither threatening nor passive—like a shadow waiting its turn.

He inhaled.

The rhythm ramped.

In. Out. In. Out.

And at the beat of five, he felt it snap: the slightest ching in his chest, like metal forming. The nest hardened, not into stone, but into something resilient—a central battery. A reservoir that contained the diversity, but aligned it.

He exhaled and opened his eyes. The pool’s glow reflected in them. He stretched his arms outward.

“CORE…” He whispered.

And in that instant—

It buckled.

The energy didn’t settle. It surged.

A convulsion, not of flesh—but of mana. The nest at his sternum pulsed once, then again, each throb more violent than the last. The harmonized elements, once flowing in sync, now twisted—grating against each other like misaligned gears.

Heat burst up his throat, light sparked in his eyes.

“What…?”

The current inside him split. Fragmented.

Wind lashed like a blade through his chest. Earth turned brittle. Water flooded his lungs, fire licked the inside of his skull. The dark residue, once patiently circling the core, now lashed inward like it had teeth.

His breath hitched.

He fell to one knee.

The storm he’d stabilized was no longer listening.

It writhed.

Not wildly.

But with purpose.

As if it recognized him.

And rejected him.

He tried to force a breath—but the circuit stuttered. A spike of raw, serrated mana shot from his core to his spine. His hands slammed into the stone, body trembling.

It was like trying to ride a beast that hadn’t been tamed.

No—it wasn’t that.

It wasn’t disobedience.

It was authority.

Too much.

The mana he’d drawn in—those elemental strands, those rare frequencies—they weren’t base energies. They weren’t meant to bend to someone like him. Not yet. Not like this.

This wasn’t a failure of control.

This was a mismatch of rank.

The core he was forming wasn’t just potent—it was sovereign. And he?

Still human.

Still unproven.

Still a fledgling trying to claim dominion over something older, heavier, crueler than blood or time.

Damien’s eyes widened.

“I’m… overreaching,” he muttered, tasting copper.

The thought cut deeper than the pain. His hands trembled harder, light bleeding from his fingertips in frantic pulses.

“Should stop…” he breathed.

But something in him recoiled.

Stop?

Now?

After all this?

The realization punched through the pain like a spear: Why the hell am I backing off?

Why?

Because it hurts?

Because the energy doesn’t want to play nice?

Because he’s scared it’ll kill him?

Damien gritted his teeth, dragging one palm across the stone to push himself upright. His arms shook—but he rose.

No.

No.

That wasn’t who he was.

He was the outlier.

The bug that didn’t crash.

So when the mana bucked again—wild, lashing, spitting against his lungs—he didn’t yield.

He roared.

“Come on, then!” he snarled, voice raw, blood flicking from his lips as he forced the current back through his spine. “You want obedience? Earn it! You want to test me? Then break me!”

And for a second—just a second—it paused.

Then—

Everything went dark.

Not dim.

Dark.

Soundless.

Sightless.

Like a veil dropped over the world.

Damien’s senses collapsed into nothing.

The battlefield. The waterfall. The beast. The invader.

All gone.

And in their place—void.

Just him.

And the nest.

A faint pulse. Alone in the black.

THUMP!

As if of a most primal moment.