AN: [Six Eyes] is great, but Mav still has to put in effort with them. They ain't the Sharingan, after all. And yes, I'm aware of Gojo's memes, I just don't know a ton about the mechanics of JJK. Doesn't really matter to Mav though, as his version of Six Eyes function independently of that power system.

A thunderous boom rolls across the landscape as my Nova Bomb detonates in the lakewater, sending violet energy rippling outward. A column of shimmering mist surges into the sky, the blast leaving the air vibrating with power. This one is bigger than the last; noticeably so.

"Spectre, note this down-" I say, dragging a cloth towel across my forehead before tossing it onto a nearby rock. "-Nova Bomb's magnitude increased by 4.6 percent that time."

Spectre manifests beside me with a cheery chime, her tone almost smug as she records the data. "Got it! You're really getting the hang of this, aren't you?"

I glance to my right, where Crow stands in complete disbelief. Glint, hovering in the air with his shell wobbling erratically, blurts out first. "Alright, pardon my language, but this is Thrall-poop. How do you keep casting all these Nova Bombs, and how are they getting stronger every time?!"

I sigh, resting my hands on my hips and turning to face them. "The Six Eyes-" I begin, gesturing toward my glowing irises. "-are a particularly ridiculous magical bloodline. They allow me to perceive the currents of Light and magic in a way that no one else can: like seeing the very blueprint of how it works. Decades of self-experimentation and training in energy manipulation, skipped in a few hours." I shrug. "They also help with control. No wasted energy, no extraneous Light. I can cast magic with near-perfect efficiency."

Crow folds his arms across his chest, frowning as though I've told him something insulting. "Great. Another thing I won't be able to learn."

I roll my eyes, but a flicker of movement across the lake catches my attention. My gaze sharpens. Far on the opposite shore, a small group of Eliksni huddles around a campfire. From this distance, they're little more than dark shapes to anyone else. But to me, the details are sharp: their movements, the faint glow of their eyes, even the subtle rise and fall of their breathing.

"Don't be daft, Crow-" I say, pulling my gaze away and turning back to him. "-I can use this to guide you. In fact…" I stride forward, gripping his shoulder firmly and steering him toward the spot I'd been standing a moment ago. "Crash course time. Arc Light."

Crow straightens, his earlier sulking vanishing in an instant. He stares at me with reluctant excitement as I gesture for him to take a stance.

"Alright." I begin, planting myself in front of him. "You know how you need to be calm for Void? How it's all about emptying yourself and embracing the hunger without letting it consume you?"

He nods, brow furrowed with concentration.

"Good. Now, Arc is different; but not entirely. Calm still matters, but calm isn't enough. Arc Light is motion, conduction, amplification. It won't respond if you're afraid of it. Fear shuts the circuit. The lightning won't flow."

I hold up a hand, fingers splayed. Sparks crackle to life between them, snapping and humming softly, the scent of ozone sharp in the air. "You can be afraid of your enemies, or afraid for your friends. That's fine. But the lightning?" I tilt my head toward him, letting the electricity arc playfully between my fingertips. "That's yours. It's not something you fight. You're the conduit it flows through: its ally. It moves with you."

Crow stares at my hand, then back at me, his expression somewhere between doubt and intrigue. His fingers twitch faintly at his sides. "So… I don't control it, but… guide it?"

"Exactly." I step back, arms folding, watching him closely as the Six Eyes flare with power. "Feel it. Let it move through you. The Arc is motion. It responds."

Crow's greatest strength when it comes to learning? His near unwavering trust in my instruction.

Crow inhales deeply, his eyes sliding shut. For a heartbeat, the air stills. Then I see it, subtle at first. Thin threads of Arc Light shimmer faintly around him, barely there, a timid pulse of energy circling his hand. It's unstable, uncertain, like static sparks clinging to a surface.

He frowns, frustration pulling at his face. The energy scatters. He adjusts his stance, fingers curling. The stillness stretches.

And then: Crackle.

A spark catches. The faint hum of electricity vibrates in the air, soft at first, then growing bolder. Crow's breath hitches as Arc Light coils around his fingertips, glowing pale blue and trembling with a life of its own. The energy stabilizes into a crackling field; imperfect, flickering, but real.

"Whoa!" Glint gasps, zipping closer in excitement. "He did it! Crow, you did it!"

Crow's eyes snap open, his gaze fixed on his hand. The lightning hums, faint static buzzing audibly. His expression shifts; shock melts into exhilaration, his mouth pulling into a wide grin. "I… I did it!"

I can't help but smile. "Knew you could. Arc moves with you. Don't fight it: use it."

The energy flickers, sputtering out as it disperses, but not before leaving faint static sparks clinging to Crow's fingers. He flexes his hand experimentally, a residual jolt of energy shocking his palm. He yelps, jerking back.

Spectre floats up beside me, humming thoughtfully. "Not bad for a first attempt. Ignoring Mavriel's magical absurdity, it's nearly unheard of for a Guardian this fresh to manipulate all three elemental manifestations of the Light. You're learning incredibly fast."

I clap him on the shoulder. "She's right. You're doing well, Crow."

Crow rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, the sparks lingering just enough to snap at his neck. "Well, uh… thanks. Ow!"

Spectre snickers. I laugh. Even Glint's jittery frame wobbles with amusement.

Crow scowls, but there's no real anger in it. "Okay, okay, it was funny."

"Keep practicing. Try to build a state of mind you can quickly snap into, like with Void and Solar. I'm going to see what else I can improve over here." I walk several meters away, still on the lake's edge.

An hour of experimentation later, and I'm even more pleased with my new perk.

My thought acceleration flows so easily now it might as well be free. I can push it to ten times normal speed effortlessly, and the strain is negligible. Past that, though? That's when it cooks me alive: literally. Pop. Instant brain damage. Death. Embarrassing, really.

Spectre brought me back, of course. She scolded me the whole time, voice sharp with concern, but I managed to placate her with some promises I fully intend to stretch later. A little brain damage is a small price to pay for progress, after all.

In fact, I'm now almost certain Thought Acceleration is a highly specialized variant of reinforcement magecraft. Makes sense. I can feel the reinforcement winding through my neurons, amplifying speed and capacity like a well-oiled circuit. I'd confirm it if I could look directly at my own brain with the Six Eyes, but there's the catch: my eyes don't work through reflective surfaces. Still, I'm confident I can figure out reinforcement at some point. In fact, it should be easy to master with these eyes and a bit of effort. Just push a bit of prana into an object to reinforce its concepts. Hell, recreating the other Light-based supers should be just as simple. All I need is a glimpse of someone using a super. Once I see how it's molded, how it flows, I can use my pre-existing skill to do it too.

I'm tempted, really tempted, to sign up for a few Crucible matches. Watching Guardians hurl supers left and right would let me dissect their techniques, but let's be honest: I'd get kicked out for cheating. A Guardian immune to Solar damage, and able to do the bullshit I can? Yeah, I'm kinda in a league of my own.

A better plan comes to mind: pay a few Guardians to perform their supers in front of me. Simple, ethical, and efficient. I'd cut the learning curve down to nothing. A few hours of study, and I'd be walking away with the blueprint for every Light super currently in circulation.

My thoughts turn to the original user of these eyes. Satoru Gojo.

Everyone and their dog used to obsess over him, but I never paid much attention past the memes. He had some kind of spatial barrier, didn't he? A technique that stopped anything from touching him. Limitless, wasn't it?

I grin to myself. Perfect memory and my old wiki-diving habits come in clutch again.

…I could totally replicate Gojo's Limitless with Void Light. There's nothing inherently impossible about it. Void is space, emptiness, the absence between existence and destruction. A spatial barrier that makes attacks never actually reach me by dividing that space an infinite amount of times? That's just careful manipulation of Void. It'll take time, sure, but time is something I've got.

It wouldn't be a catch-all: Disciples, Hive Gods, and their esoteric powers would find ways around it. But for everything else? A shield that no-sells any attack sounds fantastic. Now, how do I do that with Void Light?

… This is going to take a while, isn't it?

Later that day…

The idea is simple in theory. Void Light manipulates space, so I just need to create a barrier that warps the space around me, forcing attacks to miss by never reaching me at all. Easy enough to say when you're not the one trying to warp space itself.

I set up a training ground deep in the EDZ, far from prying eyes and Guardians who might question what exactly I'm doing. Crow's somewhere to the west, practicing Arc and Void. I pop in every few hours, giving him a few pointers when I can.

My hands hover in front of me, fingers twitching as I channel Void Light. A shimmer builds around me, faint ripples in the air like heat rising from asphalt. I fling a rock at my own face to test it. It zips right through the barrier and clocks me on the forehead.

"Off to a great start." I mutter.

Day 2…

Void energy pours from me in waves as I refine the barrier. I visualize limitlessness, the idea of infinite division. No matter how close something gets, there's always space left in between.

I toss another rock. It passes through.

I try a knife. It passes through.

I summon a vortex grenade, gently nudge it into the field, and watch as it promptly detonates in my face.

"Why do I keep doing this to myself?"

Spectre stays silent, which means she's judging me. I know it.

Hours later…

Progress.

Sort of.

The field is there now, faint and fragile, a whisper of Void energy lingering around me. I can feel it warping space in a radius no bigger than my hand. I test it by throwing dust at it, and for a second, just a second, the particles slow ever so slightly, before impacting me.

Then I try an actual bullet. It goes straight through, hitting my shield. More judgement from Spectre.

I sit cross-legged in the dirt, frustrated. The issue, I realize, is scale. I'm focusing on too much Void energy everywhere at once, trying to brute-force a precision technique. It would be a lot easier if I had a decent way to calculate everything, but despite my enhanced intelligence I'm not a mathematician. i've got the base specs, but not the skills and technical knowledge I need. So... I'll need to approach this from a different angle.

Day 3…

I start fresh at dawn, my focus sharper than it's been in days. This time, I meditate on the nature of Void itself: the emptiness, the absence. I breathe in, drawing the Light to my core, and exhale, letting it seep into the space around me.

I test it with dust again. This time, the particles hesitate much longer, shivering in the air just outside the field before drifting downwards. A grin splits my face.

I move on to rocks, my favorite blunt instruments. I lob one at my head. It slows, before falling to the ground.

I hurl a dagger. It slows just before it reaches me, veering off into the dirt.

The Void barrier is still weak, but for the first time, it works.

"Spectre!" I yell, triumphant. "Did you see that? I'm untouchable!"

"Until someone throws something bigger at you, sure." She replies dryly.

I scowl. "Let me have my moment."

Hours later…

The barrier is stronger now. I can extend it beyond my body: barely. A shimmering Void shield surrounds me, nearly invisible except for the occasional ripple when something strikes it.

I push myself harder, demanding more control, more finesse. I toss rocks, knives, and grenades into the air. One by one, they fail to connect, slowing until they hit the ground.

It's a rush, pure and simple.

Midway through the afternoon, I get cocky and decide to test it with real firepower. I summon a rocket launcher, load a round, and convince Crow to fire it at me.

The rocket approaches my field as expected, before slowing down and then careening wildly to my right, exploding against a tree. I let out a shaky breath, watching splinters rain down. "…That could have gone worse."

Spectre makes a frustrated noise. "Do I need to remind you that you were the one who almost blew up?"

"Relax." I say. "I'm learning. This is fine."

Day 4

The day blurs into hours of repetition: creating the barrier, refining it, expanding its range, making sure it bends space subtly instead of clumsily forcing everything away. Hopefully I can get it to stop redirecting things away and make it stop them entirely.

Spectre uses a repurposed heavy shank to fire weapons at me. Each shot slows before fizzling harmlessly at their 'range limit'.

But when the drone launches a Void blast, the Void field ripples violently, destabilizing for a split second. The following attack nearly connects.

I collapse to my knees, panting from hours of exertion. "Void weapons." I mutter. "Of course it's Void weapons."

Spectre hovers nearby. "You've made progress, at least."

"I know." I stare at my hands, raw from channeling so much Light, and allow gentle Pyro healing to remain the damage. "But if I can master this… most enemies won't even touch me."

Day 5

By now, the barrier is almost second nature. I move with it now, Void shimmering softly in a near-invisible shell around me. Rocks, bullets, and knives freeze harmlessly as they approach. Even explosions cannot breach the field I've created.

But it's still not perfect. High-energy Void attacks still have the potential to destabilize it, allowing other attacks to breach through while I reset it. Suppressive effects are particularly adept at ignoring my field, which is incredibly annoying.

As I sit down to rest, the stars blinking into view above the EDZ, I sigh in satisfaction. "I think I've made good progress."

Spectre hovers beside me, her tone wry but approving. "So, what's next? Figuring out the Void problem?"

I grin, looking up at the night sky. "Obviously. I didn't come this far to stop now. Tomorrow, though, we head back to the tower. Can't miss Armsday."

I stand with Banshee-44 at the Tower armory, passing out enchanted weapons to Guardians as they come by to pick them up. The air is festive with Dawning cheer, the steady hum of activity around us a constant backdrop: a Hunter has a dance off with a Warlock off in the distance, and somewhere, the distant whistle of a Guardian falling to their death is met with a sigh from a Tower guard. Banshee grunts approval as I hand off a gleaming sidearm to a Warlock, her face lighting up as she inspects it.

The Six Eyes don't let me bypass the cost of enchanting weapons entirely, but they've helped me get damn close. The real breakthrough came after a look at the ritual circle. Turns out, my biggest enemy was myself. My terrible handwriting and the bargain-bin chalk I was using ate up ridiculous amounts of magicka.

So, I fixed it.

I mix a bit of my own blood into the new chalk, just enough to bind the circle to me and ensure the energy flows cleanly. It makes a difference. After painstakingly redrawing the Enochian runes, it's working like a dream. Not quite the automation I'd hoped for, but it's miles better than where I started. At least now I don't have to spend half the week grinding out kills with Bad Juju just to fuel the next batch of enchanted gear.

Speaking of Bad Juju, I should probably take it for a spin soon. The gun's been quiet for too long, and I can feel its hunger at the edge of my awareness: a dull, persistent ache, like a stray thought you can't shake.

Banshee clears his digital throat beside me, pulling me from my thoughts. "You daydreaming, kid? Focus up. These weapons don't hand themselves out."

I nod, handing over a pulse rifle to a Titan I recognize as the owner. "I'm focused. Just… thinking ahead."

I stare down at the pile of Ahamkara teeth spread across my workbench. They gleam under the faint light, sharp and jagged, their unsettling beauty betraying the nightmare they came from. Beside them, a radiant battery hums softly. Next to it sits the eye: decomposing, bulbous, and grotesque. The blackened flesh leaks blood in slow, thick rivulets that pool near the crystalline shards of Ascendant energy scattered across the table. The fragments glow faintly, refracting light in prismatic bursts like shards of a shattered star.

"Well, what are we waiting for?" Sora asks, breaking the silence. Her hands, still stained from handling the eye, hover casually at her sides. She leans back against the table, her nonchalance so at odds with the grisly scene that it somehow makes the whole thing more unsettling.

I don't answer her immediately. Instead, my gaze shifts: drawn to the teeth I've set off to the side. Even in death, Riven's presence lingers, clinging like cobwebs to the remnants of her form. She's here, spectral and watching, an unseen weight pressing on the edges of my mind. My chest tightens under the scrutiny.

{Created 'Limitless (Incomplete)' +100 points

Rolling…

Source - Sorcerer- Baldur's Gate 3 (free)

Roll Success. Current stockpile: 100 Points.

Purchase Sorcerer?}

Sorcerer

Let those wizards study their books and clerics pray to their deities for meagre pittance of magical might. Yours is the purest form of the Weave sorcerer, as you draw your power from deep within. Your blood or ancestry (up to your choice) grants you prodigious amounts of magical potential. Although you lack the versatility and wide range of abilities of wizards and the like, none can match your sheer might in arcane prowess. Also, you are the only class who can manipulate the nature of the very spells you cast.

I'm a Wizard, not a Sorcerer!

… But more magic is more magic. Divine Soul Sorcerer, here I come!

Yoink.

"I'm done." I announce, ignoring the whispers from One Thousand Voices. My gaze flickers to Sora, who stands waiting, arms folded across her chest. Her eyes shine bright, anticipation practically radiating off her as I pass the gun over.

At my side, Spectre flicks her manipulator beam outward in a subtle gesture, and the Ahamkara teeth vanish: sucked into her inventory. I'm pretty sure that's all of Riven's teeth, which is a lot more than I expected, but I won't say no. Surely they'll come in handy somehow.

"Alright." I say, wiping sweat from my brow and straightening with a grunt. "Which weapons are you looking to enchant this time?"

Sora doesn't hesitate. With a smug grin, she steps forward and, in an almost theatrical motion, lays three new weapons onto the workbench. A hand cannon, a trace rifle, and a shotgun.

Crimson. Coldheart. Legend of Acrius.

I stare at them for a long second before sighing, long and loud, pinching the bridge of my nose. "Of course."

Sora shrugs, unbothered, her grin never fading. "Gotta go big or go home, right?"

I grunt in response, already cataloging what I'll need. "Fine. For Crimson, I'll need a piece of a Red Death. Its legacy should be enough to anchor the enchantment to the hand cannon's frame." I glance at her. "For Coldheart, more Ascendant shards and some microphasic datalattice."

"And the shotgun?" Sora asks, eyebrow quirking.

I hum, tilting my head thoughtfully as I eye Legend of Acrius. "For that beast… A piece of Ghaul's armor. He left a big enough mark on the system to hold the mystical significance I need. If you can't swing that-" I glance at her, meeting her gaze. "-track down a high-ranking Cabal and bring me its full armor. They've all done a lot of conquering, that should work as a substitute."

Sora's grin widens, and she pushes off the workbench, already wiping her bloody hands clean on a rag. "Sounds like a fun hunt to me."

I grunt, turning back to the weapons already glowing on my workbench. "If that's all."

"It's not."

Her voice cuts in just a bit too casually, too smooth. I pause, hand hovering over the next weapon, and flick my gaze toward her.

Sora leans against the edge of the workbench now, arms loose but her posture sharp. "Wanted to chat with you, actually. Heard about your little stunt at the Shard of the Traveler."

Of course she waits till I'm finished with her guns. I pick up a hand cannon, a simple Trust this time, and lay it carefully into the ritual circle. "Spectre put everything in her report to the Vanguard." I reply evenly. "House Light is no threat to the City."

"Yeah, yeah, I got that." Sora waves the explanation off, her tone dismissive, but her eyes never leave me. "What really stood out, though, was the part where the Traveler called you there. Y'know, it's only ever called one other person there…"

The hand cannon glows faintly as I begin murmuring the chant. Energy flickers over its frame in thin, rippling waves as I finish. "You." I say flatly. "You have a point?"

"It's just interesting to me." She continues, watching me carefully now. "I mean, I know the big guy's got a soft spot for me,Traveler favoritism and all, but you're a Wizard." She leans forward slightly, her tone probing, curious. "I overheard Ikora talking about how you might be the next Speaker-"

I stop mid-chant on a scout rifle, turning my gaze fully on her. "Just cut to the chase, Sora."

The room goes still. For a moment, her usual playfulness falls away, replaced with something sharper, more serious.

"It's not just visions, is it?" She asks softly. "You can talk to the Traveler, can't you?"

The words land like a weight between us, heavy and undeniable. There's no judgment in her tone, but the unspoken accusation hangs there all the same.

I exhale, slow and steady, setting the rifle aside. "...Sort of."

Her eyebrows twitch upward.

"I can… read its intent." I continue quietly, abandoning my work fully now. "In the Light, I can see it. Understand it. And if I ask, sometimes it answers. It's not a conversation, not exactly, but…" I shrug. "It's something unique to me."

Sora goes quiet, processing the information. After a beat, she grins again, but this time it's softer, more thoughtful. "Well. That is interesting. Planning on keeping that bit of info hidden, then?"

I sigh, rubbing my temple. "No point, really. Ikora probably already figured it out. I've been trying to avoid speaking with her and Zavala."

"Why? If I could talk to the Traveler, I'd lord it over everyone else!"

I deadpan at her. "I rather like my freedom to go where I please when I want to. I was hoping to spend this week polishing my Light manipulation off, but if you've already figured it out, the Vanguard are probably just waiting for Armsday to end to have this same conversation."

Sora pauses in realization. "Oh. Oh. You're afraid they're going to pull a Cayde on you, trapping you in the City."

I nod, feeling the weight of the thought settle in. "I'd rather not have to fight my way out of the City, yes."

She scoffs, rolling her eyes. "Please. I know you've got some tricks up your sleeve, but you're not that good. Not even I could fight my way out. Sneak, maybe. Are you really that arrogant?"

I raise an eyebrow at her, a faint smirk tugging at my lips. "Don't sell me short, Sora. I've got ways. It would just be really annoying."

She stares at me, like she's mulling something over. "Y'know…" She says slowly. "If you want, I could help you get outta the City for a while…"

I snort, shaking my head. "You just want to ensure you don't lose access to my enchantments."

She glares at me lightly, though it lacks any real heat. "No, I actually get it. They've been trying to saddle me with leadership over the Hunters since I killed Uldren. I keep telling them I'm not cut out for it, but Ikora won't let up. The point is, I'm trying to be sympathetic, you dick."

I can't help but snort again, a small grin slipping free. "I can handle myself if it comes to it. Besides, I don't need you corrupting my apprentice." I pause meaningfully. "Or meeting with him at all, really."

"That's that Crow guy you're teaching, right?" Sora groans dramatically, throwing her hands up. "Why'd you have to pull a new Hunter away from the path of badassery? Couldn't you convert a Warlock or something?" She pouts, clearly trying to inject levity into the conversation.

"Hey!" I shoot back, smirking now. "The path of a Wizard is the path of badassery!"

She snickers, shaking her head. "Yeah, yeah. Keep telling yourself that."

The intercom crackles suddenly to life, breaking through the moment. "Mavriel and Sora, please report to Commander Zavala's office."

We both freeze, glancing around the room.

"Do you think they're spying on us?" Sora whispers, her tone more wary than she probably intended.

"Probably." I mutter, reaching for my tools and setting them aside. I forget about the Hidden sometimes, but they're surprisingly good at their job. If Ikora wanted ears in here, she probably planted them the moment I accepted Zavala's offer.

Sora grins sheepishly. "Little late to keep our mouths shut, huh?"

"Little late." I agree dryly, dusting my hands off and straightening.

We exchange a look before heading toward the door. However this plays out, one thing is certain…

I'm going to have a very annoying day.

Canon Omake

For the hundredth time today, I call the barrier into existence. It flickers to life; smooth, invisible, almost perfect; before shuddering and collapsing again. My teeth clench in frustration, but I don't stop. I won't stop.

Spectre floats beside me, her glowing eye unblinking as she watches. "You're still working on Limitless?"

"Still?" I scoff without looking up. "I've barely scratched the surface. Gojo had years to refine his technique. I've only just started." The Void gathers at my fingertips once more, swirling in tight, controlled spirals. "It's possible, though. I know it is."

Spectre tilts slightly, as if giving me a once-over. "You're really going all-out with this, huh? Why?"

"Because I'll need it." I say simply.

Spectre's quiet for a few moments, before speaking up again. "The Witness… do you really think you'll be able to defeat him when he arrives?"

I pause, lowering my hands and letting the energy disperse. "If he manages to reach the Traveler and gain access to the Light…" I trail off, turning to glance at her. The glow of her single eye reflects back at me. "He would give me a bit of trouble."

"But would you lose?" Spectre presses, her tone sharper now, like she needs to know.

I meet her gaze, my lips curling into a slow, confident smirk.

"Nah, I'd win."

CHAPTER 14 END

AN: God, I wish I had a perfect memory. I know for a fact I've read Gojo's wiki page a year or two ago, I just barely remembered any of it before I refreshed myself for this chapter. I wanted to, at least once in this story, write a training montage, so you guys get one for Limitless (Incomplete). Not sure I like the way it came out, so I'll probably go back to putting most training in the background.

Of course Mav rolled a free perk when he barely had any points, and of course it was one that unlocked DnD magic. I'll go over the consequences of that one next chapter, once he has time to sit down and ponder them. I live in eternal jealousy of this little shit's RNG.