Eugene stood nearby, the weight of the moment thick in his chest. He glanced from the baby to the Jennie of Potential, whose shifting form glimmered with infinite possibilities.
A soft pulse of light rippled through the Jennie's prismatic shards, and Eugene felt a tug in his mind—an invitation. He reached out through his interface, focusing on the shimmering form, and while it took the interface a few seconds to load, eventually lines of floating text began aligning into a readable scan.
[SCANNING ENTITY: JENNIE OF POTENTIAL]
Nature: Abstract Construct of Infinite Possibility
Primary Function: Amplification of Potential | Long-Term Observation
Current Status: Dormant Bond | Awaiting Catalyst Event
Interaction Notes: Capable of revealing untapped personal growth paths | Minimal direct influence
Eugene blinked as the data faded, the information settling in the back of his mind. The Jennie of Potential remained quiet, her shards still drifting and reforming, but there was a subtle acknowledgment in the shifting of her colors—as if she was aware he was paying attention.
“Still no decision?” he asked, his voice quieter than he intended.
The Jennie’s colors swirled into a deep violet, the closest she seemed to come to certainty. “Potential is a process, not a moment. We will watch. See what you become.”
Eugene frowned, disappointment creeping in despite himself. The baby giggled, reaching for one of the shards as it floated low again. This time, it lingered just long enough for tiny fingers to graze it.
Curious, Eugene activated his interface, focusing it on the baby.
[SCANNING ENTITY: UNKNOWN INFANT]
Potential: Infinite (Source Anomaly Detected)
Magical Alignment: Non-Weave | Bound to Jennie of Potential
Current Status: Dormant | Awaiting Self-Actualization
Threat Level: Undefined | Variables Exceed Predictive Models
Eugene blinked at the readout, his heart thudding in his chest. “Infinite potential? That’s... a lot.”
The baby giggled again, oblivious to the gravity of what the scan had revealed, fingers still reaching for the shimmering shard. Cozimia’s lantern flickered from where it hung on his staff.
“Some folks are just born star-bound, sugar,” she murmured. “Question is, where’s this one headed?”
Eugene nodded, understanding the message. This wasn’t rejection—just... waiting.
Cozimia floated at his shoulder, her lantern light flickering brighter. “Sugar, potential’s like sweet tea—it takes time to steep. You can’t rush it, Eugene.”
He exhaled, letting go of the frustration that had built in his chest. “I know. It’s just—this feels important. Bigger than me.”
“Well, bless your heart for carin’, but bigger things don’t mean you get to cut corners. Gotta let things grow right, not fast.”
With that, Cozimia drifted upward, casting a warm glow over the space. “Now, honey, let’s quit the mopin’ and get back to work. You came here for more than starin’ at prismatic baby mobiles. Time to track that Jennie signature, remember?”
Eugene pulled himself together and settled cross-legged on the smooth concrete floor, palms open, feeling the faint hum of non-Weave magic below the surface. It wasn’t a smooth current—it was chaotic, like a thousand tangled threads. He reached into it, trying to sense a pattern.
Cozimia’s voice echoed in his head. “You’re lookin’ for instability, darlin’. Think of it like tryin’ to tune in one of them old radios—flickers, static, jumps.”
Eugene blinked. “Wait—how do you even know what a radio is?”
Cozimia’s light pulsed with mild irritation. “Oh, sweetie, some questions don’t need answers right now. Now hush and focus.”
Minutes dragged by as Eugene sat cross-legged on the cold concrete floor, his brow furrowed in concentration. Sweat beaded at his temples as he strained to make sense of the chaotic hum of non-Weave magic beneath the surface. It was like reaching into a river filled with tangled weeds—every time he thought he had found the signal, it slipped away, leaving behind only static and frustration.
He adjusted his posture, shook out his hands, and tried again. The currents of energy twitched and flared, unpredictable and wild, darting between fragments of thought and memory. Cozimia’s words echoed in his mind: “You’re huntin’ for the jagged edges, sugar. It’s like tryin’ to catch fireflies with a torn net.”
Eugene bit his lip in focus, filtering through the noise until—finally—there it was. A flicker of something sharp and erratic, like a beacon bouncing between rooftops and alleyways. It didn’t sit still, constantly shifting, but now he could feel its pull, an irregular rhythm thrumming beneath the chaos.
“I got something,” he murmured.
Cozimia’s glow brightened. “Well, butter my biscuit, you found it! But careful now—if it’s skippin’ around like that, it might not want to be found. Or worse, it’s hopin’ you’ll chase it.”
The Jennie of Potential drifted lower, her shards briefly aligning into a perfect spiral before scattering again. Eugene felt the unspoken message: Paths change. Outcomes shift.
He stood, determination washing away his earlier doubt. “I’ll come back if anything changes.”
The Jennie’s form pulsed in acknowledgment as Eugene turned to leave, Cozimia disappeared back into the fanous hanging from his staff. In the stillness that followed, the baby giggled again, cradled beneath infinite possibilities.
Eugene emerged from the Veiled Pinnacle, the sharp hum of the non-Weave signature still buzzing faintly in his mind. The City spread out before him in layers—ancient streets buried beneath more modern, but still medieval by Earth standards—towers, old market squares forgotten under new construction. The pull from the Jennie’s signal tugged him eastward, deeper into the city’s underbelly.
The streets grew quieter as he moved away from the bustle, the buildings older, cracked with age. He followed the flickering signal to a narrow alleyway hidden behind rusted gates, where an old elevator shaft plunged deep beneath the surface.
Cozimia floated beside him, her lantern’s glow soft against the dark. “Darlin’, if I had a nickel for every fool who went down into places like this chasin’ somethin’ they didn’t understand, I’d be sittin’ pretty on a porch swing right now.”
Eugene cracked a grin. “Yeah, well, I’m not like them.”
“Oh, sugar, that’s what they all say. Now, mind your step.”
The elevator groaned as it descended, the metal cage rattling with every foot it dropped. Eugene kept his focus on the signal—it was shifting again, dancing between different points, almost like it was leading him somewhere on purpose.
The elevator jolted to a stop at the bottom. Before him stretched an old marketplace, half-collapsed and choked with dust. Stone archways framed empty stalls, and the skeletal remains of long-forgotten kiosks lined the cracked floor.
As Eugene stepped forward, strange coincidences began to stack up. His boot nudged a loose stone, sending it skittering across the dusty floor. The stone struck the base of a rusted metal pole, which wobbled before tipping sideways. With a groan, the pole struck a weathered sign hanging loosely from the wall, dislodging it completely. The sign clattered to the ground with a metallic clang, revealing a hidden doorway behind it.
Cozimia whistled low. “Well now, that’s mighty convenient.”
Eugene eyed the doorway, suspicion tightening in his chest. “Or someone wants me to think that.”
The signal was stronger here, pulling him deeper into the ruins. Dust motes danced in the beams of light streaming through the broken ceiling, and every echo of his footsteps felt just a little too loud, a little too perfect.
Ahead, a half-buried newsstand stood crooked against a collapsed wall. A faded newspaper, barely intact, fluttered to the ground as Eugene approached. Its headline read: “Councilwoman Grint’s Lucky Streak Continues—Another Policy Win Against the Odds!”
Eugene frowned, picking it up. “Grint? That’s... oddly specific.”
Cozimia’s light dimmed thoughtfully. “Sometimes, darlin’, the threads all start tyin’ together when you least expect it. Or someone’s makin’ sure they do.”
Eugene felt the pull intensify, guiding him through the hidden doorway and deeper into the heart of the forgotten marketplace, where something—or someone—was definitely waiting.
He stepped forward, his boots crunching on debris, when a low groan echoed through the chamber. A wooden beam above him, brittle with age, creaked and snapped, sending a cloud of dust raining down. Eugene threw up an arm to shield his face, but the sudden collapse was more than just dust—the beam hit an overhead support, causing a hidden latch in the floor to give way.
With a sharp crack, the stone beneath his feet crumbled, and Eugene tumbled downward, the floor vanishing beneath him. He barely had time to yelp before he was sliding through a dark, narrow chute slick with years of grime. The tunnel twisted sharply, and before he could slow himself, the chute spat him out into a cavernous, pitch-dark chamber.
He landed hard on his side, pain flaring through his ribs. Dust billowed around him as he gasped for breath, but before he could scramble to his feet, shadows peeled away from the darkness—two masked figures dressed in black, swift and silent. Their footsteps barely made a sound on the stone floor. He could only see them when they got close enough to hit him.
One of them moved first, driving a boot into Eugene’s gut with brutal force. Air whooshed out of his lungs in a strangled gasp as he curled instinctively around the impact. Stars bloomed behind his eyes, the pain radiating through his ribs.
Before he could recover, rough hands yanked him upright by the collar of his jacket. A fist slammed into his jaw with a bone-rattling crack, his head snapping sideways as white-hot pain shot through his temple. Another blow came fast—a heavy punch to his cheekbone that sent him staggering backward, vision blurring.
Eugene barely had time to register the next hit before a gloved fist smashed into his temple, the force dropping him to his knees. Dirt coated his palms as he caught himself, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.
“Got ourselves a pretty one,” one of the masked figures sneered, circling around him. “We’ve been waitin' for someone like you. Thought you could just wander in here, Jennie in tow, without someone like us noticin’?”
Eugene winced through the pain, focusing his thoughts as he quickly activated his interface. The data flooded his mind, geometric shapes flickering into lines of floating text as he scanned the nearest masked figure.
[SCANNING ENTITY: UNKNOWN OPERATIVE]
Affiliation: Unverified | Suspected Mercenary
Magical Alignment: Weave-Based | No Jennie Bond Detected
Mission Objective: Intercept and Extract Jennie Artifact
Threat Level: Moderate | Trained Combatant
Cognitive Status: Conflicted | Limited Knowledge of Larger Plan
Eugene’s vision cleared as the scan ended, his thoughts racing. “They’re just mercs—probably don’t even know who they’re working for,” he realized, tightening his grip on his staff. “But they’re dangerous enough.”
Cozimia’s voice crackled from inside Eugene’s jacket, muffled but urgent. “Eugene, darlin’, they’re gonna knock you flat if you don’t do somethin’—and quick!”
He gritted his teeth, his hand tightening around the staff still clutched in his palm, though it felt heavy now, slippery with sweat. Another shadow loomed, and Eugene swung blindly upward, connecting with an elbow. The figure grunted, but the second attacker responded fast—driving a knee into Eugene’s side, the force lifting him off the ground before dumping him hard onto his back.
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The cold metal of Cozimia’s lantern dug into his ribs, still hidden beneath his jacket. The masked attackers wouldn’t have any idea what kind of Jennie he carried—or what artifact to look for—but that wouldn’t stop them from beating it out of him.
Another punch landed squarely across his face, pain flaring sharp and immediate. He tasted blood.
“You’re lucky we don’t know what you've got it hidin' in,” one figure growled, kicking his staff aside.
Eugene spat blood into the dirt, vision swimming, but forced himself onto his knees, feeling the lantern sway beneath his shirt. “Yeah... I noticed.”
Another kick caught him in the ribs before he could fully rise, sending him sliding backward through the dust. The masked figures advanced, their shadows stretching long in the flickering light, ready for another round.
Eugene coughed, blood dripping onto the ground as he clawed at his jacket, feeling the cold metal of Cozimia’s lantern pressed against his ribs. He wasn’t thinking straight—pain clouded his mind—but instinct kicked in. He gripped the lantern tight and pulled Cozimia’s energy toward him.
The power surged fast—hot and wild—burning through his veins as if it had been waiting for the invitation. Eugene gasped as the force coiled in his chest, heavy and unstable. There was no plan, no careful spellwork—just raw desperation.
“Cozimia—help me—” he rasped.
Cozimia’s voice buzzed in his mind, sharp and frantic. “Eugene, honey, you’re pullin’ too hard—slow down—”
But he didn’t. Acting on pure impulse, Eugene shoved the gathered power outward in one explosive push.
The effect was immediate. The air thickened with the acrid stench of rust and mold, so heavy it clawed at the back of Eugene’s throat. The walls around them seemed to lean inward, their jagged shadows stretching longer than they should, distorting into menacing shapes. The darkness, already deep and suffocating, seemed to grow denser, as though it was swallowing the remaining light, stretching out infinitely in every direction. The edges of the room blurred, as if the very idea of space was unraveling, leaving an oppressive, yawning void. The chill in the air deepened into a biting cold, the kind that sank into bone, while distant echoes—his own breathing, Cozimia’s faint voice—looped and twisted into an unsettling chorus that filled the space. Every instinct screamed that this was a place no one should be, a place that actively rejected their presence.
The masked figures froze. One of them turned sharply, glancing around as if the room itself had come alive. Their breathing quickened, shallow and panicked, as the oppressive air seemed to claw at them. The darkness, already deep and suffocating, now felt endless—like it had grown larger, swallowing up the space around them. The only light cutting through the oppressive blackness was the faint, flickering glow from Cozimia’s lantern, casting long, twitching shadows that danced along the walls. Its soft amber light barely pushed back the creeping dark, making the room feel even more distorted and vast, as if they were trapped inside something ancient and hostile.
Eugene felt it then—what he had done. He hadn’t just filled the space with chaotic energy; he had stripped the room of every ounce of welcome, every flicker of safety. It was like he had hollowed it out, turning it into the worst place imaginable—cold, hostile, and wrong. The kind of place that made your skin crawl and your instincts scream to leave.
He staggered to his feet, the realization pulsing in his mind. “I made this place hate them,” he thought, a grim satisfaction stirring in his chest.
The masked figures twitched with unease. One of them rubbed at their arms as though trying to shake off a chill that wasn’t there. The air stank of rust and mold, the walls seemed to breathe in heavy, choking gasps, and shadows danced at the edges of their vision.
Eugene wiped blood from his lip and smirked through the pain. “Ever think about how some places just... don’t want you?”
The distortion intensified. The ground trembled subtly beneath their feet, dust swirling in odd patterns. Was it an earthquake? One of the attackers took a step back, their stance faltering.
Cozimia, though strained, whispered in Eugene’s mind, “The Jennie of Coincidence is playin’ along, darlin’. They’re feelin’ it now.”
The masked figures exchanged a glance—something close to panic flickering behind their masks. The room felt wrong, alive in a way it shouldn’t be.
“Screw this,” the taller one muttered, backing away. “This place is cursed, it ain’t worth it.”
The other masked figure hesitated a beat longer, her gaze narrowing on Eugene. “We aren’t the only one who pulls strings around here. Watch yourself.”
With that, they retreated, their footsteps fading into the looping echoes. The tension in the air lifted, the oppressive weight of the magic dissolving.
Eugene collapsed to one knee, chest heaving. Cozimia flickered into visibility, her light dimmed and voice soft.
“Well, sugar, that was reckless—but I gotta admit, it worked.”
Eugene coughed, half-laughing, half-choking. “Yeah... I’ll take it.”
Eugene sat hunched over, breath ragged as the lingering echoes of his reckless outburst faded. The room still felt hollow, a place emptied of all welcome, but the tension had eased. Cozimia floated low beside him, her glow flickering with exhaustion.
“You alright, sugar?” she asked, her voice softer now.
Eugene winced, wiping blood from his split lip. “I’ve been better.”
He staggered to his feet, his staff retrieved from where it had been kicked aside. Dust still hung thick in the air as he moved deeper into the cavern, feeling the faint pull of the non-Weave signature still buzzing in his mind.
Not far from where the masked figures had attacked him, Eugene noticed something glinting faintly among a scattered pile of the attackers’ belongings. Torn satchels, rusted tools, and scraps of paper littered the ground, but one object caught the light. Pushing aside a tangle of ropes and a dented canteen with the butt of his staff, he uncovered a kaleidoscope—its brass frame tarnished with age but still intact. The non-Weave signature flared the moment he touched it.
Cozimia floated closer. “Well, I’ll be... That ain’t just some trinket, darlin’. That’s the Jennie. And those two are gonna be in some BIG trouble when their boss learns they forgot this.”
The kaleidoscope glowed slightly in his hand, its surface shimmering even though it was terribly dark in this tunnel. Slowly, it twisted apart on its own, light spilling from within as the Jennie of Coincidence emerged. She appeared as a stout, middle-aged woman, her round face framed by curly hair tucked under a frumpy hat. Thick glasses perched low on her nose, magnifying her kind but sharp eyes. Her clothes—simple, loose-fitting, and a little outdated—hung around her like layers of an old quilt, glowing faintly with an orangish light. Despite her unassuming appearance, she floated gracefully, the soft glow surrounding her illuminating the cavern in warm, shifting hues, as Jennies do.
“Rescued! Finally!” the Jennie chimed in overlapping, fragmented voices. “I thought I’d be trapped here forever, used as bait by those bumbling fools.”
Eugene blinked. “Bait?”
“Oh, yes! They barely understood what they were doing—just following orders. I was used to lure Jennies down here, but they didn’t have the faintest idea how to handle me.”
Cozimia’s lantern pulsed. “Sounds about right. Folks like that never know the whole plan.”
Eugene, still gripping his staff, activated his interface and focused it on the Jennie of Coincidence. The air shimmered slightly as geometric patterns spiraled into place before his eyes, organizing into lines of floating text.
[SCANNING ENTITY: JENNIE OF COINCIDENCE]
Nature: Abstract Construct of Probability and Randomness
Primary Function: Manipulation of Chance | Creation of Improbable Events
Current Status: Unbound | Seeking Stable Host
Behavioral Traits: Eccentric | Opportunistic | Inherently Unpredictable
Influence Capacity: High (Localized Probability Distortion)
The data flickered out of sight, leaving Eugene with a sense of both unease and curiosity. This Jennie wasn’t just about luck—it was about reshaping outcomes, bending events toward the improbable. He lowered his staff slightly and glanced toward Cozimia.
“Yeah,” Eugene muttered, “definitely not someone you want in the wrong hands.”
The Jennie of Coincidence hovered closer to Eugene, their mirrored shards reassembling into a constantly shifting spiral. “But now, I’m free! And you—oh, I know you. You’ve got the Hearth Behind the Stars with you. Cozimia, the Eternal Hearthlight, I’m honored.”
Cozimia let out a soft chuckle. “Haven’t heard that name in ages.”
“I want to bind with you,” the Jennie declared suddenly, shards glittering with enthusiasm. “Not just that—I want to live in the Hearth Behind the Stars with Cozimia, lend you my powers to influence events around you. You’ve freed me, and I can help you in return. Think of the possibilities—the connections I can forge for you!”
Eugene hesitated, glancing at Cozimia. She gave him a small nod. “Ain’t often one jumps right into your arms. I say go for it.”
Eugene grinned despite the lingering ache in his ribs. “Alright, let’s do it.”
Eugene held the kaleidoscope firmly, feeling its subtle hum of energy. He knew what needed to happen. Without a second thought, he gripped it tightly and closed his eyes, focusing on the familiar pull of the Hearth Behind the Stars. In a blink, the cavern faded around him, replaced by the infinite warmth and flickering light of Cozimia’s sanctuary.
The Hearth stretched out, filled with countless relics and quiet, glowing spaces. Cozimia hovered near the heart of it, her lantern burning low but steady. Eugene stepped forward, the kaleidoscope in hand, and placed it on an empty shelf.
Light spilled out from the artifact as the Jennie of Coincidence emerged, now glowing even brighter in the comfort of the Hearth. She floated higher, her frumpy clothing catching the amber glow, and stretched her arms wide as though breathing in freedom.
“Finally! Somewhere with actual charm,” she beamed, her orange glow deepening as she settled in.
Eugene felt the bond snap into place—not just a tether to her power, but a deeper connection as she took residence here. Threads pulled tight around him, invisible but strong, linking him not just to her, but to the vast web of possibilities she manipulated.
[SYSTEM UPDATE DETECTED]
Processing New Bond Integration...
Synchronizing Jennie Attributes...
Update Complete. New Interface Data Available.
[STATUS UPDATE: WARLOCK—EUGENE CALHOUN]
Primary Magical Affiliation: Non-Weave | Jennie-Bound Warlock
Current Bound Jennies:
- Cozimia, Jennie of Hospitality (The Hearth Behind the Stars)
- Hazel Fortuna, Jennie of Coincidence (The Unfolding Path)
New Integration Registered.
- Hospitality & Coincidence Frameworks Now Linked.
- Passive Fate Manipulation Activated.
- Potential Unstable Variables Detected.
[NEW ABILITY UNLOCKED: HOUSE OF CARDS]
Your Hearth has expanded. Probability now bends subtly in your favor when you extend welcome.
- Passive: Chance-based events will now favor beneficial but improbable outcomes. Visitors to the Hearth may find themselves unusually lucky, more open to your influence, or stumbling upon useful information.
- Active: You can temporarily "stack the deck," influencing a localized event to shift probability in your favor—an enemy might trip at the wrong moment, an object might land just right, or a key might conveniently turn up when needed.
- Caution: Excessive tampering may cause probability backlash. Pushing too hard can result in misfortune balancing out elsewhere—sometimes in ways you won’t see coming.
[NEW ABILITY UNLOCKED: THE LONG GAME]
Your connections now extend beyond the present. The actions you take today may ripple into unlikely yet useful outcomes later.
- Effect: You can now set latent coincidences, influencing future events in unpredictable but beneficial ways. People you meet, objects you interact with, and places you visit may later align in unexpected ways to your advantage.
- Example: A stranger you help in passing might unknowingly assist you in the future. An item discarded today may reappear when you need it most.
[NEW PASSIVE TRAIT UNLOCKED: GUIDED HOSPITALITY]
Your Hearth now serves as a meeting point for fate-aligned individuals.
- Effect: When you extend hospitality, the right people may find their way to you at the right time.
- Unpredictable Factor: You cannot control who arrives or when—only that their presence will be significant.
[SYSTEM NOTICE: CAUSAL ALIGNMENT AT 92%]
- Jennie Integration Complete.
- Probability Stabilization Ongoing.
- Unexpected Outcomes Likely.
[ADVISORY: The more you embrace Coincidence, the stronger Hazel’s influence will become.]
[CLOSING STATUS WINDOW...]
Eugene exhaled slowly as the interface window faded from his vision, the weight of the new abilities settling in. He had expected an upgrade—Jennie bonds always came with something—but this was different. This was bigger.
House of Cards. The Long Game. Guided Hospitality.
His magic wasn’t just growing stronger—it was evolving into something broader, something that reached further than he could directly control. Latent coincidences? Probability bending in his favor? That wasn’t just power; that was influence on a fundamental level.
He flexed his fingers, feeling the invisible threads of Hazel’s influence tightening around him. Before, his abilities had always been direct—hospitality had clear, immediate effects. But this? This was about seeding outcomes, setting things into motion without knowing when or how they’d pay off. He could extend a hand to a stranger and have it echo back weeks, months, or even years later. He could shift the odds without anyone noticing—without even knowing exactly how he had shifted them himself.
It was exciting. And terrifying.
The Hearth Behind the Stars was no longer just a sanctuary—it was a lighthouse for fate itself, drawing people in at exactly the right moment, aligning his path with those he needed most. He wasn’t sure how much control he had over that, but he had a feeling Hazel did.
Eugene ran a hand through his hair, mind racing. If he was reckless, if he pushed too hard, he could force reality to bend in ways it wasn’t meant to. And reality always corrected itself. He had seen that enough times to know better.
That meant he had to think bigger, act smarter.
He smirked to himself. A warlock who cheats probability? He’d have to get used to that. Hazel had thrown a whole new deck into his hands—now he just had to learn how to play.
With that thought, he took a breath and turned his attention back to the glowing artifact in his hands. It was time to meet Hazel Fortuna properly.
Light spilled out from the artifact as the Jennie of Coincidence emerged, now glowing even brighter in the comfort of the Hearth. She floated higher, her frumpy clothing catching the amber glow, and stretched her arms wide as though breathing in freedom.
Cozimia floated over, her lantern casting soft light on the kaleidoscope now resting on the shelf. “Well, darlin’, she’s part of the family now. And that there’s her front door if she ever wants to stretch her legs.”
The Jennie of Coincidence adjusted her glasses, looking around the Hearth. “It’s been a long time since I had a real home. I think I’m gonna like it here.”
Eugene couldn’t help but grin. “Hazel Fortuna,” he said, testing the name from the interface reading.
She brightened, orange light warming around her. “Oh, so you do pay attention.”
Cozimia chuckled. “Sugar, you just added a whole heap of chaos to your life. Hope you’re ready for it.”
Eugene smirked, feeling the new weight of possibility in the air.