Claire began by reviewing her log, double-checking her acquisitions to better inform her choice. The last thing she wanted was to look back on her log and find a new decision-breaking skill after locking the change in her race. Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, there were no such items listed.

The two-hundred-odd entries could be summed up as Halfbreed reaching level fifty, with her other two classes hitting fifty-three and forty respectively. Llystletein Bloodthief quickly revealed itself to be quite the decent choice. Many second-tier classes only granted two or three ability points per level, but it provided a full six. Adding everything up, she had fifty-eight points in total, all of which were pumped straight into her vitality. It would all be for naught if her health ran dry before her transformation completed.

With all the boring secretarial work out of the way, the halfbreed took a deep breath and opened the evolutionary menu.

Halfbreed is primed to evolve into any of the following:
- Arctic Rattletailed Lamia
- Frostblight Lyrkress
- Icerunner Centaur
- Icewinged Cervitaur
- Hexapedal Frostviper
- Lesser Ice Elemental
- Rimeblood Gorgon

Additional options will unlock if the associated conditions are fulfilled:

- Glacial Chimera
    - Consume a piece of flesh with two heads at once
- Polar Pitviper
    - Slay a creature with an ascension level two higher than your own
- Lesser Blizzard Wyrm
    - Acquire an ability score total in excess of 2000.
    - Acquire a strength stat in excess of 500.

The moment she opened the panel was the moment the world shifted. Her rocky surroundings were replaced by clouds, clear skies thankfully devoid of catgirls. After blinking a few times, so that her eyes could adjust to the light, she cast her gaze on the goddess that stood before her.

“Good evening, Claire.”

“Good evening, Box.”

In the blink of an eye, the halfbreed went from wearing her excitement on her sleeve to smiling amicably. Her mask was impossible for most noblemen to see through, but the divine was not as oblivious.

She knew Claire’s tricks. She had watched the halfbreed develop her facade throughout the earliest parts of her childhood. In her eyes, the mortal’s attempt at deception was just as fruitless as a puppy’s—a fact that the halfbreed was fully aware. It was not the result that mattered, but the blatant message of suspicion and distrust.

“Why are you here?”

“I see that you are as dense as ever.” The goddess sighed. “I am present to assist with the process of your ascension, as is per the tradition.”

“My word. How is it that you are still so bitter, after all these millennia?”

Another voice, one that the halfbreed failed to recognize, rumbled throughout the heavenly domain. The cloud by its origin shook and warped as it took on the shape of a man.

He was an older gentleman with a full head of blood-red hair. He wore a lightly coloured, long-sleeved shirt underneath a dark grey vest that fit close to the lines of his frame. His lower half was adorned with a pair of blackened pants that only seemed to clash with his bright white belt. If not for the folded reptilian wings, his lizard-like eyes, and the chain-link tail sprouting from his rear, he almost would have looked like he was human.

“Builledracht.” The goddess frowned at him, making no effort to hide her displeasure. “Leave. You have no part in this rite.”

“Not to worry, dear. I have no intention of going back on my word. I am only here to observe.” He smiled as he walked over and seated himself atop a chair that didn’t exist.

“Voyeurism is for the lowest of the low.”

“Nobody is perfect.” Brushing off the insult, he leaned forward and rested his elbows on the invisible table in front of him. “Carry on. You’re free to pretend I don’t exist.”

The goddess shot him a bit of a glare before turning back to her subject and pointing at the space behind her. “Now as I am certain that even you will recall, Claire, it has come time for you to ascend.”

Following the deity’s finger, the halfbreed found seven copies of herself standing at the ready. Each was placed atop a pedestal with roughly ten meters of space between them. They all grew at once, gaining a few centimetres as her apparent age changed to match her experience in years. The one on the far right was the first to change any further. Her humanoid frame morphed and lengthened to take on a shape akin to that of her mother’s—a purebred lamia with a rattle at the end of its tail.

The one beside it shared a similar outline, but its tail was only half as long. What it lacked in size, however, it balanced with additional features. Its webbed hands were adorned with jagged claws, and its thick, messy hair was quite literally a nest of serpents. Its face was changed, growing more monstrous. Blueish-white scales covered everything beneath its nose, and the thin tongue that extended from its lips was nearly as long as an arm.

Next to form was the clone on the far left. Its height nearly doubled as its figure morphed, growing a muscular quadrupedal base. Giant feathered wings, spanning over four meters across, sprouted from its back. As a winged cervitaur, it retained her ears, but dropped all hints of serpentine ancestry.

Second to the left was a smaller and less imposing but equally four-legged frame. It was almost identical to that of a standard centaur’s, but it had thicker hair and a much longer mane. The double lifted its hoof when she looked at it and showed the spikes that lined its soles.

Icy chest ornaments aside, the four outermost evolutions were more or less exactly what Claire had expected. They were her parents’ forms, or perhaps forms they had grown out of or otherwise rejected. Prior to his second ascension, her father had been a centaur, or more specifically, a cervitaurian subspecies of the winged bull moose variety. Likewise, her mother had chosen a graceful rattletailed shape over the unique, gorgonian body often linked to her royal blood.

The remaining choices were of a less obvious origin. Smack dab in the middle of the line was a copy of her body made entirely of ice—the only one of the seven options that lacked a chest spike. Its translucency revealed a complete lack of organs; the elemental was a solid chunk of crystallized energy and nothing but.

On its left was a form roughly halfway between her father’s and her mother’s. Its front half was perfectly centaurian, sporting a muscular second chest and two powerful legs. If she were to name a difference, it would have to be the almost horse-like limbs that, for some odd reason, had fins attached right above the ankle.

The body’s rear end, however, took the centaur concept and threw it out the window. Its two-meter-tall frame thinned out into a scaly serpentine posterior with a pair of flippers along the sides and a mane-covered tail at the very end. Unlike most of the other choices, the so-called lyrkress’ humanoid part retained all her traits. Both the ears that her centaurian forms sported and the patches of scale that came with her reptilian choices were present and glimmering beneath the heavenly light.

Opposite it was her most bizarre alternative, the only one to drop all her humanoid features. Precisely what its name described, it was a massive viper with six girthy legs. The serpentine body was the longest of the bunch, with a frame that almost looked to span over ten meters in total. Like the other odd option, it retained her massive ears. Even her hair was kept, to an extent. A long mane ran down the length of the snake’s spine as it would a horse’s head. The legs that were its namesake were mostly centaurian, but they also reminded her of the gorgon situated right beside it. They featured webbed toes and thick jagged claws as sharp as freshly whetted knives.

“Why are they all ice-themed?”

The question elicited a sigh from the goddess. “Your memory pales in comparison to that of even a goldfish.” The raven-haired divine pointed at the item embedded in the halfbreed’s chest. “Have you already forgotten about the frostblight?”

“No, but I don’t see why it would influence all my choices.”

“That is because you are a halfwit. The shard embedded within your chest is an elemental power source. There is no reason not to assimilate it, unless you would rather be both weaker and perpetually hounded by its poison.”

“Right. I forgot it was a catalyst.”

“It is not a catalyst. It is an elemental power source. It can be used as a catalyst, but they are not the same.”

Claire shrugged as she turned back towards her options, her eyes settling first on the literal snake. It was the one that stood out the most, the one that felt like it would best divorce her from her father’s dominion.

“A hexapedal frostviper is a powerful being,” said the goddess, in a way that was equal parts familiar and off-putting. “They are powerful, but losing the humanoid aspect of your form will affect your mental faculties. You are not ready for this sort of ascension. You will be, but not yet. Not now.”

Hearing the goddess’ testimony almost led Claire to instantly lock in her choice without so much as reading a description, but the hand gently laid on her shoulder stopped her short. There was something different about the goddess. Her usual snark had been replaced with a much gentler tone.

“I will show you its description, and I will allow you to select it if you must. But it is not the right one.”

Claire paused, briefly closing her eyes. “I want to see it.”

“Would you like the usual? Or would you prefer a description that contains less… personality?”

“The usual,” said Claire. “I doubt anything bland would feel right, after all this time.”

The deity returned her smile, as she composed a box with the wave of a hand, one with its borders made of gold.

Hexapedal Frostviper
Hexapedal vipers are swift, deadly ambush hunters that hardly ever leave their homes. They are particularly skilled at eliminating unsuspecting passersby, but their thick scales and powerful muscles provide them with the ability to triumph even in unplanned upfront engagements. Imbued with the power of true ice, the frostviper variant is capable of thriving in biomes that others can only consider hostile. Members of this race are plagued with the instinctive tendency to build their homes in extreme environments. Individuals that do not think themselves capable of being touched by the opposite gender will find this racial class particularly effective.

Becoming a Hexapedal Frostviper will reclassify you from humanoid to monster. This change will affect you mentally, and you will grow more aggressive and impulsive.

Requirements:
- Descend from a line with serpentine ancestry
- Initiate your first ascension under the effects of true ice

Claire abided by the goddess’s request as she finished reading the description and summarily dismissed the evolution. Her interest extended only as far as idle curiosity. It didn’t matter how powerful the viper form was. It violated her aesthetic, and in turn, her sense of identity.

It was precisely with that concern that she ruled out her more pureblooded options. She wanted to keep her ears and her scales—she had always been proud of how large and shapely her fluffiest organs were, and she loved the way her scales felt to the touch.

She turned her eyes back to the pedestal as she made the decision. Though she hadn’t voiced her thoughts, the choices she had rejected had all been banished to the aether; only two other Claires remained.

“What about this one?” asked Claire, as she looked at the frozen statue that looked just like her. “Is becoming an elemental different from becoming a monster?”

“See and judge for yourself.” Again, the goddess fiddled at a box with her hands and crafted a description for Claire to inspect. “I admit that leaving it to you may be a rather poor choice, given your distinct lack of intellect, but it is your will that will shape your destiny, not mine.”

“I know I just said that I was okay with the box being snarky again, but did you really have to go ahead and start doing it too?” grumbled Claire. “I like you better when you’re not snapping at me.”

“The fault lies with your preference, not my behaviour,” refuted the goddess, with a calm smile.

Lesser Ice Elemental
Elementals are vulgar spiritual life forms composed primarily of magical energy. They excel at the application and use of magic and possess the innate ability to manipulate their elements as naturally as a physical lifeform would its limbs. This racial class is synonymous with vanity. Individuals that take great pride in their appearance, particularly those that practice exhibitionism, are well suited for this class.

Claire frowned as she finished reading the class over. It was, in a word, unassuming. All the description really seemed to say was that choosing it would make her a decent ice mage. And while she did have to admit that ice magic was rather potent, she was far from inclined to become a pure caster.

“Can I see the last one?”

Without a word, snarky or kind, the goddess snapped her fingers and boxed her world.

Frostblight Lyrkress
Half aquatic reptile, half terrestrial quadruped, lyrkresses are rare perversions of the natural order capable of conquering land and sea alike. Lyrkress flesh is malleable and individuals of this species are capable of adjusting their forms. The frostblighted variety has evolved a moderate resistance to thermodynamic change alongside a notable proficiency in ice-based magic. Sexual deviants capable of developing affection for individuals outside of their own species groups tend to prefer this class.

Requirements:
- Acquire agility and conjuring scores in excess of 250
- Slay an ascended individual prior to your first ascension
- Withstand the effects of frostblight as a result of direct contact with true ice

P.S. Please be aware that zoophilia is ill-advised.

“I think this one is the best.”

“Is it your final decision?”

Claire nodded—

“Then a frostblight lyrkress you will be.”

—and vanished from the heavenly realm.

With the only mortal gone, the unbeholden landscape reverted to its default state, a sea of stars with a small, twelve-planet solar system occupying the foreground. Within the abyss, the two gods remained, with one sitting atop a planet with his arms resting on its ring, and the other standing atop the greenest of the furthest planet’s seventeen moons.

“Explain yourself, Builledracht.” The goddess turned to the well-dressed man. “Why are you here?”

“I had no choice but to attend. I know I’ve relinquished control, but I am still her patron, if technicalities are to be observed.”

The female deity grimaced.

“Why hasn’t she sworn to you yet? She seemed to trust you enough, more than me at least.”

“...name.” The goddess responded in a voice too quiet to hear.

“I’m sorry dear, I didn’t quite catch that.”

“I said she doesn’t know my name!”

For a moment, there was nothing but silence as the older gentleman stared at the flustered young goddess.

Exactly one-third of a millisecond later, the seemingly infinite juncture came to an end. Laughter echoed throughout the heavens and shook all seven hospitable realms.

The day of their exchange was one that the curse god’s priests would mark as a day to be feared. For they had all heard his cackling, echoing through their minds at once. None would ever learn the reason the ancient god had suddenly split his sides. And though he had almost no hand in the misfortunes and horrors to follow, his hysterical fit would be cited by many scholars and historians as a precursor to the darkest age.