Synapse Sovereignty Framework : System?

This abrupt and intense hunger took Roxana by surprise.

A hollow ache clawed at her stomach, an unbearable emptiness demanding to be filled. Saliva pooled in her mouth as if her body already knew what it craved before her mind had the chance to catch up.

For a moment, Roxana could think of nothing else. Hunger consumed every thought, every instinct, until her gaze fell upon the remains of the eggshell from which she had emerged.

The cracked, oddly-shaped, whitish-orange shell shouldn't have been appetizing. And yet, its scent—strangely rich and enticing—tugged at something primal within her, an urge beyond logic or reason.

She hesitated. Was this even food for her kind? Whatever 'her kind' was supposed to be? It was bizarre enough that she, a mammalian, fox-like creature, had hatched from an egg. The idea of eating it felt like something straight out of a fantasy novel with inconsistent world-building.

But hunger had no patience for philosophical debates. Driven by desperation, she seized a shard of the shell and bit into it eagerly.

The flavor burst across her tongue, warm and comforting, with the soft, airy texture of freshly baked bread. If she closed her eyes, she could almost convince herself she was back home, savoring a warm pastry from her favorite café. Almost.

The hunger pangs dulled slightly with each bite, but the relief was short-lived. As she consumed the eggshell, a sudden, foreign memory surged through her mind—a vision not her own, yet undeniably hers.

It wasn't a past recollection, but an inheritance.

In a single, overwhelming instant, two revelations seared themselves into her consciousness: her identity and her true name.

Roxana staggered back, breath hitching, as the weight of the truth settled over her like a suffocating shroud.

She was a demon.

The realization sent ice-cold dread coursing through her veins. When she had first seen her strange new form, she had assumed she was some kind of monstrous creature, perhaps even a magical beast. But this? This was worse. This was terrifying.

Had she died and been reborn as a demon? Why? Had she done something so terrible in her past life to warrant such a fate? The idea was ludicrous—she had been ordinary, painfully so. She had spent her days gaming, reading, and avoiding social obligations whenever possible. Hardly the makings of a future demon.

And since when were demons fox-like? Shouldn't they have wings? Horns? Reptilian scales? From no perspective did she fit the traditional image of a demon. So why had she become this?

Despite her growing horror, she knew there was no room for denial. The truth had been carved into her very soul.

As she chewed the last piece of eggshell, a name echoed through her mind with haunting clarity:

"Lysara Xenthia Lunestra Azraina Evelindra… Mythriell Roxana."

The weight of it sent a shudder through her. It wasn't just a name. It was a seal upon her soul, an intrinsic part of her very being. This was her true demon name, a sacred and perilous thing.

She didn't fully understand how she knew, but the knowledge was absolute: a demon's true name was to be guarded above all else. To speak it aloud, to share it with another, was to offer them an unfathomable power over her. It was a vulnerability akin to handing someone the strings to her very existence.

Roxana clenched her jaw. No. No one could ever know it. She had no idea what dangers lurked in this world, but she wasn't about to hand over her soul on a silver platter.

Accepting her identity as a demon felt like swallowing glass, but she had no choice. Denial wouldn't change what she had become. She was here. She was different. And if she wanted to survive, she had to adapt.

Her past life had ended. Whatever future she had now belonged to this new existence.

As the last fragment of her eggshell vanished down her throat, another sensation gripped her—a pulse of energy, an awakening of something deep and unfathomable. And then, a voice echoed within her mind, hollow yet omnipotent:

"Activating Synapse Sovereignty Framework System."

Roxana stiffened. What?

Before she could process the words, reality twisted. A translucent interface shimmered into existence before her eyes, forming a glowing lattice of neural pathways that pulsed with energy. It wasn't physical, but she could feel it, connected to her thoughts as though it had always been a part of her.

Within the luminous grid, an orb of soft, pulsating light hovered, reflecting an ethereal image—her own face, but not as she had seen it before. This was her essence, her demonic form rendered in spectral beauty, a creature of flame-colored fur and mesmerizing, otherworldly charm.

"Is this… my soul?" she whispered.

The System didn't answer, but the interface responded to her thoughts. With just a flicker of intent, a series of details materialized before her eyes:

Name: Roxana

Essence: Demon

Legacy: [Error]

Bloodline: Comprising at least four different kinds ([Error])

True Name: Lysara Xenthia Lunestra Azraina Evelindra... Mythriell Roxana

Form: Newborn

Attribute: Illusion

Strength: 2

Speed: 10

Magic Power: 20

Activity: 14

Charm: 25 [Extremely Rare]

Dormant Capacities: [Error]

Skills: None

Talent Ability 1: Soul Peer (Allows the perception of soul residues, tracing their eternal paths.)

Talent Ability 2: Demon Blood (The demon race is bloodthirsty and warlike. It is very easy for you to go berserk whenever you enter combat. In addition, Demon Blood gives you a better affinity with negative energies.)

Talent Ability 3: Soul Consumption Craving (The instinctual pleasure derived from assimilating spirits, empowering oneself through their essence.)

Items: None

Number of Souls in Possession: 1

Evaluation: "Your strength is laughable, yet there's a hint of magic power and charm in you—tragic, given it's wasted on such a frail form. You'd stand a better chance surviving as someone's underling than on your own—unless, of course, you fancy an early demise."

Roxana stared at the screen, dumbfounded. Was this thing actually mocking her?

She had barely been reborn, and the first thing she got was an evaluation calling her weak? And it had the audacity to suggest she'd be better off as someone's subordinate?

Hell no.

She wasn't about to let some snarky system dictate her future. If this world had rules, she would break them. If she was meant to be weak, she would grow stronger. If she was meant to follow, she would lead.

A smirk pulled at her lips. Oh, she was going to make this world regret underestimating her.

Let the game begin.