Chapter Text
Her arms ached like she’d been wrung out and left to dry, every muscle raw from the endless swing of her pickaxe. She hadn’t stopped until long after the torches burned low, long past the time when the others’ voices faded back up the tunnels one by one and the mine grew quiet except for the sound of her own strikes echoing back at her. Even then, she hadn’t given up.
She was deep into the last night of the preparation stage, and she refused to waste a second of her remaining time. With her every swing against the stone she was given another scrap of ore to tuck into her inventory and another ounce of safety in the potential chaos to come. By the time her thoughts blurred from exhaustion and her movements slowed, she’d built up a hoard that would have made any casual player gape. Her inventory was filled with stacks of iron, coal, gold, and diamonds. So much more than made sense, and the sight of it sitting neatly in her slots filled her with a strange possessive comfort.
She wasn’t the only one who stayed in the mines all night.
Flux had been there the entire night as a steady presence deeper in the tunnels. She hadn’t meant to keep an eye on him when their mining brought them close, but it was impossible not to notice the way he worked when focused. He was precise and methodical, as if every strike was part of some larger plan that he was forming. He didn’t speak much after Ish left, not to her, not to anyone, but she’d caught glimpses of him checking and rechecking his inventory with a focus so sharp it made her wonder why.
What was he building toward? Was he already forming his plans for conspiracy? He had the kind of intensity that said he wasn’t just gathering materials, he was preparing for something. Something more than gathering blocks for survival.
Entix hadn’t asked. And she doubted he would have answered if she had. Still, the wonderings lingered as she hauled her own spoils back to camp in the pale hours of morning, hands trembling with exhaustion but heart thrumming with pride. She was objectively stronger than she’d been two days ago. Smarter in the mechanics of this world and how it worked. More capable than she’d ever been in her old life. The fear that had clawed at her when she woke up on the beach hadn’t disappeared, but now it was caged by the sheer proof of what she could accomplish when she put her mind to it. Whatever came when the sun rose today and she picked her perk and the real experiment began, she wouldn’t meet it empty-handed. She had something to offer the people around her no matter where she ended up. That meant something.
The early morning air rose in a quiet soft haze lifting off the sea, filling her senses with a brisk vitality despite her exhaustion. Once she made it back to camp, instead of letting herself relax, Entix set another pot over the fire. She hadn’t slept all night, nor had she had a decent meal since breakfast the previous morning and that was more bothersome than the lack of sleep. Like the previous day, the smell of foraged herbs and fresh chicken broth wafted across camp, drawing the few early risers out of their bedrolls. She moved almost automatically in rote action chopping roots, stirring in new ingredients, taste testing, and letting her hands busy themselves while her mind turned over the weight of the last few days.
She let the actions of preparing breakfast anchor her to the moment. While she moved, she could focus on the crackle of the fire and the rhythm of her knife instead of the thrum of nerves in her chest while letting her mind drift onto a plan for how she would move forward. It had been two days since she’d woken up on that beach, and already she’d managed to carve out something almost like competence, something that felt survivable at the very least. She had plenty of materials to survive, a good baseline of skills, and most importantly she wasn’t alone. She wouldn’t be alone even after parting ways with her new associates today, as long as her plan actually went through.
Around her, Flux’s people were already bustling with the casual urgency of travelers who knew exactly what was next. Packs were filled, bedrolls shaken out, tools sorted and tucked away into chests that would be loaded onto small boats. She’d overheard enough last night to know they’d be leaving to join 3Below, who had picked out their future settlement for what would likely become Luminara. No one in his group seemed anxious about the move; there was a steady rhythm to their work, the kind of confidence that came from following a plan laid out long before they’d washed up here.
Entix continued to stir the pot for something to do as she gazed across the camp. The Luminara group moved through the morning like clockwork under Flux’ leadership, efficient and quiet, while making sure everyone had what they needed and stockpiled. They moved without hesitation, with a practiced ease that made their loyalty and efficiency obvious. It was clear how comfortable they were with the cycle of this place just by watching them. Entix found it a bit fascinating, like watching her Uncle in the old world as he’d commanded his hive of bees.
Keeping more to himself than usual at the other side of the fire, Saps lounged with his chin propped on his hand, blatantly watching her cook with a lazy joy. He was so unlike the others, not bothering to rush his packing while they zoomed around him. Last night, he’d already made a point to tell her that he had no pressing deadline and that he planned to start on his “vacation home” once she was squared away and the prep stage officially ended. But until then, he was content to linger and enjoy the atmosphere
“Figure I’ll stick around,” he’d said to her with a knowing grin, “and keep you company ‘til you get your perk squared away. No sense running off before then and leaving you on your own.”
She hadn’t known how to respond to that, but now, as the smell of stew thickened and the camp came alive with chatter, she was grateful. They would all be leaving soon into the world to form their civilization, but Saps, bright, kind, easy Saps was staying with her until the end. And that small comfort meant more to her than she could ever admit out loud. Being alone was somehow more terrifying than ending up in this place had been, though she chose not to examine that.
Once the stew she’d cooked was finished and bowls were scraped clean, the camp shifted completely into departure mode. Bedrolls were tied off, tools slung over shoulders, and the quiet efficiency of Flux’s group carried a sense of inevitability. Entix could feel it in her chest like an upcoming execution. the moment where she’d no longer just be drifting in their orbit and would have to pave her own path.
She stood slightly away from the bustle until some came to say their goodbyes to her directly. Rotation was first, of course, with his easy friendliness and a lopsided grin tugging at his face. “Don’t make me regret dragging you out of the jungle,” he teased with a glint in his eye, making a point to give her shoulder a light clap that was more grounding than it had any right to be.
She managed a smile and a soft “Thank you,” that carried more weight than the words themselves. He had, in a very real and tangible sense, saved her on that first day.
Thomas was next to stop by, with a pack slung over one shoulder and his hair catching in the morning light in a glowing halo. His smile was boyish and warm in a way that seemed almost at odds with the sharp purpose she always sensed beneath his surface. “You’ll be fine,” he said, voice gentle but steady. “Don’t second-guess yourself too much.” It wasn’t much, he never said much, but the way he said it lingered, and Entix tucked the moment away somewhere special without meaning to.
Finally, shortly before it was time for their departure, Flux approached. He wasn’t the type to draw out farewells, she didn’t think, and his presence alone was enough to quiet the last bits of chatter around them. “You’ll manage fine,” he said simply, as if it were fact, not encouragement. A moment of silence lingered between them before he slipped a full stack of diamonds into her hand.
“Listen carefully, Sylventix. If you end up on Island One, take three-quarters of these to my sister Cynikka, the Queen of Infernis. The last bit goes to my nephew, Sidefall. I’m sure he will be making himself known in one way or another over there. If you don’t, well…” his eyes caught hers, unreadable, “then you’ve got reason to come find us anyway. Return them when you can.”
Entix blinked down at the diamonds he’d given her, the weight of them and the quest settling heavier than their size suggested. She understood what he was doing immediately, giving her an anchor, something to hold onto, and a reason to keep moving forward. It was a task, a tether, and she was more grateful for it than she’d ever admit.
By the time Flux turned back to his group, ready to set out, Entix’s fingers had already curled protectively around the diamonds. She didn’t need to say anything else to him; he’d known she would take his quest seriously the moment he placed those diamonds into her palm.
Entix stood at the edge of the sand with the early morning tide lapping cool around her ankles. She silently watched the group she’d spent her transition into this new world with grow smaller in the distance as their assorted boats dipped over the horizon. The one ship with a sail and most of the supplies seemed to catch in the morning wind, steady and purposeful, carrying them toward the new home they planned to carve alongside their leader 3Below. She already felt the absence of their presence, a comfort she hadn’t realized that she relied on until this moment. She reflected on the sharp certainty of Flux, Rotation’s easy grin, Thomas’s quiet steadiness, but it surprisingly wasn’t a hollow feeling of loss. It felt more like the turning of a page into a new chapter of an exciting read.
She let a faint smile stretch across her face, it was happy but a little mournful. She was sure that Ish had known exactly what he was doing when he placed her in their path. People who gave her enough guidance to steady her footing, but not so much that she forgot that she could write her own story instead of following along in theirs.
With a sigh, she tugged her focus inward, to pull up the familiar grid of her newly filled inventory. It was a similar feeling to laying everything out on a table before a long trip, a final check before heading off to the airport for an adventure. There were two neat stacks of eggs that had been tested, she really could just throw them on the ground for the chance of a baby chick simply appearing. It was food security alongside the stacks of already dressed chicken tucked away in its own slot. She had more vegetables and herbs sorted into colorful rows, most she recognized, some she didn't. There was also a couple of stacks of unsorted seeds she’d tucked away that gave her an excited thrill. She was almost certain some of them were coffee, and the thought of brewing a cup someday made her smile to herself wider than she expected.
Beneath it all in neat rows were the minerals she managed to gather. Stacks of iron, gold, emeralds and coal, each the product of her hard work and sleepless night in the mines. The stack of diamonds that Flux had handed her sat separate from the rest of her supplies, deliberately placed in their own slot, but even aside from those, she had almost two full stacks of diamonds on her own. The sheer abundance was an absurdity. She hadn’t decided what to do with them yet, and she wouldn’t until she knew where she was going.
Satisfied she’d missed nothing and had everything she required, she let the grid fade from her vision and lowered herself onto the sand beside Saps. He was sprawled out like someone on holiday with a lazy grin on his face as he leaned back on his elbows and squinted up at the sun.
“Not bad, huh?” he said without opening his eyes or moving at all. “Just a couple more hours and you’ll know what perks you earned. Then the fun actually starts for a newbie.”
Entix let herself laugh softly, the sound coming much easier than it had even a day ago. She tucked her knees up and hugged them with arms resting loosely around them. The sea stretched out wide, The ships were already a speck on the horizon, and for the first time since her initial anxiety faded she felt not just ready, but eager for what was to come. This was the start of her own story, but deep down she knew she had one more thing to handle. Something she’d never forgive herself for if she didn’t try at least a small nudge.
She glanced sideways at Saps, still lounging like the sand was a feather mattress and looking at ease with sun catching in his messy white hair and making him look almost angelic. He hummed tunelessly to the sound of the crashing waves, completely at ease as usual. Entix let the moment stretch before nudging it forward.
“Speaking of,” she said, voice low but carrying, “you never gave me any advice.”
Saps cracked one eye open, mischief flickering in those kind eyes. “Didn’t think you really needed it from me.”
Her brows arched. “Oh?”
“Yeah,” he said, rolling a pebble between his fingers like he had all the time in the world before flicking it into the water. “You immediately got pinned down by Flux. In the end it doesn’t matter if you agree with him or push back, he’ll make sure you’ve decided what you want out of this place. My input is redundant.”
Entix huffed a soft laugh, conceding the point. “Fair enough. He does seem to have that effect.” She let her gaze drift back toward the horizon, then steeled herself while trying to stay casual, “In that case, how about I give you some advice instead?”
That got his attention. Both eyes opened, his grin quick and curious. “Oh? Really now, by all means, wise Sylventix. I await your enlightenment.”
She leaned forward a little more, hugging her arms over her knees in an effort to soothe her spiking anxiety. She took a moment choosing her words to be carefully casual. “I think your vacation home is a good idea. And, granted, I don’t know you that well yet. But… maybe take a little of Flux’s advice too. Try to find your people.”
Saps tilted his head like a puppy, his grin dimming into something more thoughtful than she’d seen before.
“Family isn’t just perks or legacies,” Entix went on. “It’s the people you choose to keep close. I think that you’re too bright to live off on your own, tucked away by yourself. You deserve people who see that light you radiate.”
For once, Saps didn’t immediately fire back with a joke. He studied her for a long and lingering moment, his easy smile dimming just enough to show the quickly moving thought beneath. Then he huffed a short laugh, tilting his head once more in his puppy-like fashion.
“You know,” he said, “Sometimes you remind me of Flux. You might actually be dangerous , Sylventix, giving advice like that.”
Entix shrugged lightly, though her pulse quickened. She’d said what she meant without tipping her hand too much. That was all she could do.
Entix was still sitting cross-legged in the sand, watching the tide rolling in as she waited for her perks to arrive. About fifteen minutes previous, Saps had drifted off down the beach toward where he’d been keeping his chests, close enough to be company but far enough that she had room to breathe and process.
When the time finally came, the notification arrived without a sound, just appearing in a shimmer at the edge of her vision until she focused on it long enough to come into focus. The list unfurled in a long line, stretching far longer than she expected and requiring her to mentally scroll twice to take it all in.
Her first reaction was almost a laugh at the absurdity of her situation. All these choices, and only able to pick one? It made some gamer part of her rebel at the injustice.
She poked through the list, scanning titles, skill upgrades, and reading a plethora of short descriptions. Some of the perks were relatively straightforward, things like early access to social features, a one-time chance to swap to a different spawn island, interesting supplies for random potential hobbies, and tidy little boosts to different skillsets. Most were fairly practical, useful, and safe as far as perks went.
Some of the more complicated perks hit differently. Things like enhanced memory retention, allowing someone to gain a better foothold on the memories that were slowly fading, giving the ability to never completely forget a thing, or the ability to edit appearance, more tempting than it should be for someone who was still adjusting to a body that didn’t quite feel like hers.
And then there was that she was both hoping for and dreading: ‘Join a Family or Legacy.’
The words pulsed faintly in the interface, ever so slightly brighter than the others, as if the world itself leaned forward to whisper, you know that you want this one. It was relatively subtle, so subtle she might’ve missed it if she hadn’t already been suspicious of nudges made by unseen hands. Ish. The Admins. Who or whatever else was watching this world play out like a grand stage. Were they truly encouraging this for her?
The thought should have given her pause, and there was a small prickle of unease settling between her shoulders at the idea of being manipulated. But, as she sat there with sea spray on her skin and the horizon stretching wide, the unease softened quickly.
Maybe it didn’t matter if she was being steered toward this. It was a choice and she’d made it herself. She wanted the security of it. Had told herself since finally making her decision that the best path forward was finding her people and building a place that was hers by choice. It was the only option on the list that had the potential to give her anything close to that.
Entix drew in a slow breath, sucking in the clean air and letting it out through her nose. She mentally hovered over the option. “Alright,” she murmured to herself, “No take backs.”
She clicked, and another option populated for more detail.
Once she was finally finished, Entix found Saps sitting on a stump, going through his storage chests. He glanced up at her approach, lifting a hand in casual greeting, but didn’t move from his task otherwise. She stopped a few feet away from him, unsure for a moment how to start with a goodbye. The timer ticking down in the corner of her vision spurred her on. “I guess this is goodbye, Saps.”
He turned away from his work and gave her a once over. His grin was easy and a little lopsided making him look cuter than he had any right to. “For now, sure. Not for good though, I’m sure. Don’t look sad, you’ll do fine.”
The words made something tight in her chest loosen, and before she could second-guess it, she added, “Thank you. For being so… steady. It mattered to me more than you probably think it did.”
For once, his amusement flickered, replaced with something softer, though still distant in that way he seemed to carry himself. It was times like this that she wondered if he ever let anything strike close. “Steady, huh? Not what people usually call me.”
Entix smiled faintly, appreciative. “Well, that’s what you were for me these last couple of days. All of you really.”
He huffed a soft laugh before standing and dusting sand off his hands. She couldn’t help wondering if what she’d told him earlier, about finding his own people, had gotten under his skin at all. She really hoped that he took the advice, and sooner rather than later. It wasn’t much, but it could pull him away from the path she feared. The hope tugged at her, even now.
Before she could say more, he stepped forward and pulled her into a friendly hug. The hug was warm, quick, and surprisingly firm. As he held her, he whispered, “If you end up staying here, or when the border ever drops, come find me. Don’t go disappearing into the cycle without saying hi from time to time.”
Entix hugged him back tightly, clinging on for a moment longer than she meant to. “I will. Promise.”
When he let go, she tried to affix this memory in her mind, taking note of the way the sun hit his hair and the untroubled tilt of his smile. She wanted to remember the lightness he carried on the off chance it was somehow diminished by trials to come. She didn’t know if she’d see him again anytime soon, not with how the world worked here, but she hoped. She hoped with everything she had that maybe she’d nudged him off the path she remembered. That he had a different story, without betrayal, waiting for him now.
As she stepped back from the hug, the countdown in her vision ticked down to less than a minute, relentless. Soon she’d know where her own story would pick up. The type A part of her wanted to obsessively continue conjuring scenarios, but she pushed it back. For this moment, she would just stand there, enjoying the easy company and holding on to the last familiar face she had.
When the timer finally ticked down to zero, the teleport zapped through her body like lightning through every nerve, causing an internal ripple that left her skin prickling and her stomach lurching as if she’d been dropped from the sky. It happened in a flash, one moment she was on the warm sands of Island Two, with the salty air filling her lungs, and the next, oppressive heat.
She staggered on the spot, her knees nearly buckling before she forced herself to stay upright with a will she wasn’t even aware she had. The ground beneath her wasn’t sand or grass but a baked and cracked terracotta, fractured in long lines that spidered out like veins along the landscape. The air in front of her shimmered faintly, thick with the scent of minerals and something sharp and electric. Not far away from where she stood, a small river hissed and spat, with steam rising in curls from water that churned like it was boiling in its own bed. It probably was.
Entix made a couple of attempts to swallow over the dry heat, taking in the desolate sort of beauty of Island One. Some part of her knew she’d end up here, but she still needed a moment to process. Gone were the lush forests and bright rivers she’d grown adjusted to, the songs of birds and the salted breeze of the ocean. In their place was something dry and quiet, a land stripped down to bones and heat, with muted colors and a dry aridness that was jarring. She observed the deep reds and oranges of clay that was broken up in places by streaks of pale stone and small patches of dried grass, barely holding onto life. Yet there was something so devastatingly beautiful in the desolation of this place.
When she lifted her gaze, she caught another breathtaking sight in the distance, the warden tree. Even from this distance, its colossal form dominated the horizon, with massive branches rising like a monument against the stark horizon. Somewhere near this spot where she was standing, she knew an empire would be founded. She couldn’t be completely sure where, as the memories of the video she watched were still steadily fading toward the back of her mind, but she was sure that she was nearby.
Her pulse thrummed with anticipation and excitement in equal measure. This landscape was harsh, brutal even, but as she stood on the cracked terracotta, with heat soaking through her boots and the strange boiling silence around her, Entix found herself smiling faintly.
From this point on, this was her story as much as it was anyone else's.
The air wavered in front of her like a tingle of cracked reality. Entix’s breath caught as she froze in place. She knew that feeling now from both times Ish had visited her. An Admin’s presence, making reality itself bend to make way for something beyond it. But when the figure finally blinked into existence in front of her, it wasn’t Ish’s trickster grin and easy amusement that greeted her.
The man who appeared instead stood tall and imposing, his posture effortless and commanding. It was as if the very ground acknowledged his dominion over it. He had mid-length hair was a dark, polished brown, neatly cut and styled, but it was his eyes that held her suspended. They were golden, but not in the way of warmth and sunshine, instead they were the gold of a crown minted in metal. Regal and sharp. The kind of gaze that could weigh a person
and find them wanting without a word. She recognized him immediately, but didn’t show it.
Elaneulo.
His name felt like a secret she wasn’t supposed to know, and in a way it was. He hadn’t been in the most recent video she watched, but she knew him regardless. The Ruler of Aculon, the snow empire. According to fan lore, he was the son of Solev, the first dictator of snow and father of Schpood, Fluixon, and Ender. But how much of that was real and how much was fan lore was unknown to her. She couldn’t be sure of anything other than the fact that he was standing before her, achingly real.
Her dry mouth went drier somehow, almost making her want to reach into her inventory for something to drink. Her every nerve seemed to spark with adrenaline, not quite fear, but some instinct she couldn’t name. It took more effort than she would have ever expected not to blurt out everything she’d ever read or argued about him online as if she was being interrogated with a single glance. Instead, she took a beat and forced herself to stay still, keeping her nerves locked behind her will to not ruin anything. Somehow, she managed a small, awkward smile that only kind of showed her nerves.
“Hello,” she said in that soft musical lilt this body gave her.
The corner of his mouth tilted ever so slightly, something bordering a smirk that was more acknowledgment than warmth or mocking. His gaze swept over her, categorizing like she was a puzzle he’d already found the solution to.
“Granddaughter,” Elaneulo said, the single shocking word dropping between them like a decree.
It took a single moment for his reply to sink in. In response, Entix’s breath caught, thoughts tangling into a thousand impossible knots at breakneck speed. Granddaughter. A title spoken possessively and wrapping around her like a claim. A tether she hadn’t expected but couldn’t deny. It was at this moment she realized that part of her, unacknowledged or noticed until this very moment, already knew that she’d end up here. And behind his sharp grin, she swore she caught a glimmer of something else, likely amusement, at how well he’d managed to rattle her with a single word.
It wasn’t long before her mind finally finished calculating and caught up with the situation. There was only one reason she could think of that Elaneulo would claim her in such a way. Only one explanation that fit the rules of this world and the perk she’d chosen.
When she selected her perk, she was given additional options. The first was an option to slightly alter her appearance to better match the bloodline she ended up in, which she took as she hadn’t been overly attached to the almost inhuman body she made for her minecraft character. The second was when she was given the ability to have the system to strip away the title of Mother as a possibility. She knew in her soul that she wouldn’t be able to stomach anyone replacing the woman she’d lost, not even in name. Which likely meant the system had reached for the next bond, the next opening it could fill. If she’d been made a granddaughter, then there had to be a Father in the equation.
Her pulse picked up and her fanlore knowledge clicked into place. Schpood.
The name came to her with both a flicker of dread and of excited thrill. She could only be linked with the future Emperor of Westhelm. He had been described as potentially unstable while also being obviously hilarious and competent, the kind of man who swung between brilliance and volatility like a pendulum. And yet, Westhelm had thrived under his hand in the video. He had definitely been feared, and many had tried to kill him, but in the end he had been respected more.
And now, if she was reading things right, she was his adopted daughter.
She hadn’t meant to do this, honest. When she’d chosen the family perk, all she really had hoped for was a place she could belong, a tether in this endless cycle like Flux had implied. She did not to be bound to the heart of the greatest empire this experiment would ever see. She’d wanted a family, for sure, but this… this was joining a dynasty.
Still, beneath the unease, there was a part of her, buried long before she came to this world, that sparked deep in her chest. The emotion was close to a calculating kind of anticipation. A hunger she hadn’t felt in years, and only came out at times when she was in some kind of character. The traits that had her old friend making endless jokes about how she was destined to become a cult leader. There was something visceral satisfying at the thought of stepping into something bigger than herself, and being given the kind of power that could shape the world.
But, standing before Elaneulo, she couldn’t admit to any of it. Not her knowledge of the lore, nor the fan theories, not even a reaction to the family name. To Elaneulo, she had to be just another newcomer who didn’t know much about how this world worked.
So she held her reactions with very little ease and swallowed hard, once then twice. Once she was sure she could steady her voice, she looked up at him with a practiced neutrality that didn’t completely match her personality. “Granddaughter?” she echoed softly, tilting her head slightly in a practiced kind of confusion. “I’m not sure I fully understand. What exactly do you mean?”
Her question was genuine, but it was also very probing. She had a lot of assumptions but no real answers, and she needed him to fill in the gaps of information she wasn’t supposed to know. She wanted to bait him to reveal how much of her suspicions were right. The sharpness in his amber eyes told her he knew she was fishing and that he might just enjoy making her squirm.
Elaneulo’s gaze lingered sharp and amused, as though he was watching the wheels turning in her head. Entix held his eyes for as long as she dared, but the longer she did the more certain she became that he knew exactly what she was doing. Her careful feigning of ignorance, her probing question. The way she studied his expression, waiting on baited breath for his next word. She could feel it in the small curve of his mouth, a subtle tilt of pride in his expression. He approved.
“I won’t answer that,” Elaneulo said at last, voice smooth and commanding, bouncing slightly on his spot in the air. “Not yet. That is for him.” He folded his hands behind his back, posture a perfect line of authority. “I am only here to wait with you until your new father arrives. He should have been here already, but someone saw fit to try and assassinate him this morning. A nuisance that has delayed his arrival.”
Entix blinked, momentarily thrown by his answer. The assassination, of course. Her mind scrambled through the fading memories to categorize what she knew, to line up the timelines of the story she’d known. Was this it? The attempt that had backfired and given Schpood the leverage he needed to harden his claim and gave him the excuse to seize the power of Westhelm’s burgeoning Empire?
She shifted slightly on the rough terracotta ground, trying to ground herself as she parsed through her new situation. But another strangeness in her thoughts made itself evident. The impressions she caught rising from her subconscious weren’t the sharp, adult ones she expected and had been experiencing. They were younger, echoes of the way she’d thought and felt as a teenager, half-ignorant, raw raw emotion that was still yearning for an absent father.
The realization hit her like a tsunami. The system itself was shaping her, using her own past to press her into the mold of this new role she had chosen. A daughter, not only in title. The world itself seemed to be shifting her perspective, bending her instincts back toward the vulnerability and dependence of late childhood.
She clenched her fists at her sides, forcing her breath even against a barely there tide of adult panic. She had chosen this. She wanted a family. And yet, sitting under the golden gaze of the Ruler of Aculon, waiting for a man who would soon call her his child, Entix couldn’t help but feel the edges of her old self start to blur. This was what it was going to be like forever, wasn’t it? Cycle upon cycle, until the girl she was before Entix was completely overwritten. It was terrifying.
She took a thought, just for herself and tattooed it on her mind. ‘Never forget the important stuff.’
Elaneulo’s smirk sharpened slightly, as though he’d heard her anyway.
Entix closed her eyes for a moment to ground herself, letting the weight of it all settle into her bones. An Emperor’s daughter. That wasn’t some passing title, it meant being pulled into the heart of Schpood’s power, the heart of danger. Schpood’s personal story hadn’t been one of safety in the version that she knew, blades coming for him again and again, some striking much too close, and one even taking his second in command. If she stepped into his shadow, she’d inherit that risk.
But she’d also inherit something else. A role, one she wasn’t as unfamiliar with as one would assume.
Her chest rose and fell in a steadying rhythm. She thought back to her old life, to the version of herself who dressed in velvet and silk every year, who let her friends and strangers alike call her Princess as she played the part of an elven royal at festivals and conventions. She’d never thought that particular skillset would become anything more than escapism. Yet now, absurdly, it was exactly what she needed.
Slowly, she straightened. Her shoulders drew back, her chin lifted, and the uncertainty shifted into something poised and sharp. The awkward nerd on the inside of her still trembled, but outwardly she was every inch the daughter of an Emperor from one moment to the next. Her awkward movements smoothed into practiced grace, her aura into quiet command. The mask slid into place like an old skin, and her subconscious seemed to actively encourage it without her input. There was nothing clumsy about the transition. It was polished by years of pretending.
Elaneulo watched without a word, eyes steady. His smirk softened into a genuine but small smile, satisfaction glinting at the edges of his gaze, as though he recognized her transformation for what it was.
She let her breath out slowly, steady, as though she’d never faltered at all. For now it was an act, a performance learned in the safety of make believe. But as she stood there, awaiting the man who would take her in as a daughter, she couldn’t help but hope the mask might, in time, become something more real.
“Any advice, Grandfather?” Entix asked at last, her soft voice smooth and deliberate, even her cadence shifted to fit the role she had chosen. The performance felt more natural by the second, pushed along by the subtle resurgence of old memories that lingered in the back of her mind.
Elanuelo regarded her for a long, weighted moment in which she refused to drop her mask. His sharp features and posture didn’t soften any further as he studied her, and when finally spoke it was with the cold certainty of a ruler who’d endured.
“Never falter,” he said, low and even. “You are a member of the House of Aculon now. What you were before is gone. Embrace the family, and you will never stand alone.”
The words struck her like a seal pressed into wax, a command as much as counsel.
She took a single moment to process the words that so reminded her of the advice she’d received from Flux. She’d already intended to take that advice, but with her placement she did even moreso. The nerd underneath spiked with anxiety, but the LARPer seized control and held steady. She blinked her mismatched eyes once before inclining her head, soft but pointed acknowledgement. Then, as though her words were a crown settling right onto her brow. “I will remember, always.”
Elanuelo nodded once, with an obvious hint or pride and approval before he snapped back into his usual stern blankness. In that single exchange, Entix understood fully that her choice to take this perk was no longer, and likely never was, about survival alone. It was about living up to a legacy. She had been extremely naive in her thinking.
She didn’t have time to think of anything else to say before there was movement on the horizon that caught her focus.
A fairly large group was approaching along the riverbank, their pace obviously brisk and purposeful even from the distance. For a moment, her stomach turned, nerves sparking at the sight of armed figures moving in formation. But then she noticed a familiar symbol and flashes of color. The sight made her unease shift into something much more complicated.
As they got closer, she started to make out individual figures. The first was impossible to miss with bright pink hair that swayed with each step, belonging quite clearly to Owo, Schpood’s second in command. She didn’t know much about Owo except that they seemed loyal until the day an assassin’s blade found them.
Beside them walked another she could recognize, 5pyder. He had messy blonde hair that blew in the breeze and gleaming armor that caught the light with each movement. He would become the second after Owo’s death, willing to die for the interests of Westhelm, but for now he strode like a shadow waiting to be called forward.
At their center, commanding attention as much as the formation protecting him itself, was Schpood.
He wore bright red, the armor shaped for both strength and show, and at his brow glinted a golden crown of laurel leaves gleaming against the morning light. His hair was dark brown, short and unkempt, though at the hairline a small patch of gray had already started to creep in. He had a scar carved across his right eye that looked harsh against his skin. He looked both younger and older than she imagined the image of his blocky skin, he couldn’t be any older than his mid-forties, at maximum. But from the energy that radiated from him he seemed to be casually carrying the weight of centuries.
He radiated authority with every step while somehow still seeming approachable. Everything seemed subtly pulled in, even the barren wastes themselves. Their eyes locked, and in that moment, the part of her that she thought the system might be reshaping, the part that had begun to think and feel like a daughter since accepting the perk, surged to the surface. Entix felt her pulse skip, her breath catch, a flurry of nerves that had nothing to do with fear and everything to do with seeing the representation of a figure she had once, as a child, yearned for.
The Emperor had arrived.