awareness

"There are two primary ways to classify the scale of powers in the Otherworld," Auror began, adopting a more conversational tone.

"But before that," he continued,

"you need to understand that every power you meet here is a literal embodiment of a concept that exists in the living world. Just so you know, 'Ichl', that pile of bones I knocked down a few pegs a few hours ago, the one you subsequently assimilated, was the strongest embodiment of lust I know of in this realm. There are probably others who have the same concept as their base core, but none nearly as powerful. Now that you've inherited his core as your own, even as a measly convert, the rate at which people lust after things in the real world will likely decrease.

See, the prominence of a concept in the living world depends on the number of beings who wield that concept here, and how powerful they are. Get it now?"

"No, I don't," Derek confessed, bracing himself for another lecture.

Auror's face twitched in frustration. "What part don't you get?"

Derek was tempted to say "all of it," but he'd rather not offend the golden demigod. "You mentioned something about a 'base core.' I don't quite understand."

Auror sighed, but his tone remained relatively patient.

"The base core is the concept you get from the first core you receive. It becomes part of your soul, unchangeable. You can sneak other concepts into your soul as you ascend, while your soul is in that transformation process, but it's too risky. The mutation of new and old concepts is often useless, or perhaps even uncontrollable, for most souls. The cons usually outweigh the pros."

Derek opened his mouth to ask another question, but Auror held up a hand, cutting him off.

"Back to the main topic. I said there were two ways to classify powers, the class and the ranks."

"The class is measured by the amount of consciousness retained from the former self when the soul is converted. The lowest of these are the Nadir. They have little to no consciousness left. Their minds have been broken by this unforgiving hellscape. They possess minuscule intelligence and instinctively lurk around, seeking other souls to devour. Sometimes, they manage to rank up after gorging themselves with enough essence, or die trying, depending on their luck. But no matter how fortunate they get, their level of awareness can't take them past the level of a Neophyte. Any attempt to breach that threshold will just lead to the eventual collapse of that soul."

Auror paused to catch his breath, then he continued.

"Next on the ladder are the Inane. These are slightly better than the Nadir in terms of intelligence and awareness of their former lives. They exhibit passable social behaviors and live relatively normal lives and their powers shouldn't be underestimated, at least not by weaklings like you. But their inability to comprehend complex forms of essence wielding retards their growth. They're often tricked or coerced by powerful figures into serving as cannon fodder for their armies. Their level of soul essence awareness hinders them from getting past the level of Transcendence."

"The next are the Banal. These are the relatively normal inhabitants of this hellscape, at least as normal as people get here.

They have as much intelligence as they did in their former lives and average consciousness to go with it. That thousand year old pile of bones you assimilated was a Banal, a human just like you in his former life. But he became one of the most powerful Banals to ever exist. It was high time we took him out anyway; he was about to become a Sovereign, a real handful, those lot," Auror muttered, almost to himself.

"Either way, Banals can never go past the threshold of Sovereignty."

"Now we're entering the realm of the extraordinary. The Sentients. These beings have higher than average IQ, soul, and mind awareness. And according to our research, these beings can actually attain godhood."

"These souls are incredibly scarce," Auror continued, his tone matter of fact. "Any faction will do just about anything to get their hands on one."

He paused, then added, as if it were an afterthought, "I'm a sentient myself. A sentient overlord," If he felt any pride in stating that fact, he certainly didn't show it.

As Auror said that, a lot of invisible dots seemed to connect, Derek had come to notice that Auror's mind appeared to be constantly speculating, as if his mind were perpetually engaged in a complex calculation. Derek could feel the wheels turning, an odd sensation of being both from within and without the mind at the very same time. Perhaps that's what being sentient truly meant.

As if reading his thoughts, Auror spoke, "I know you might be looking at me, wondering what's so special about being sentient and all. But looks can really be deceiving, especially in this world."

He leaned closer, his golden eyes intense. "You see, being a sentient means that if I so wished, I could simply… shut it all off.

My mind is always clear as day and still as night. I haven't flinched once since I grasped my powers. I feel no fear, no doubts, no hesitation, no emotion. Any fluctuation you see, this smile for instance, is just a practiced facade, designed to allow me to look and communicate normally without freaking people out.

The sentients are the greatest enemies of those who wield powers of emotion, like the lust you wield. Our only limitation is that the emotion of love is beyond our control."

He paused, then a flicker of something akin to awe crossed his features. "The last and most powerful of all are the lucids. They were considered myths until I met one myself. Unlike the sentients, who channel their consciousness within, the lucids channel theirs without. They can be… anywhere, if you allow them to."

His gaze locked on Derek's. "And that's what you are. Coupled with the fact that you wield emotion powers, I still think it's a mistake not killing you, kid. But who doesn't make one of those, eh?"

Auror smiled again, but this time, the smile felt… unsettling. he suddenly realized that It didn't reach his eyes, and it conveyed a sense of detachment that sent a chill down Derek's spine.