-oOo-

  Chapter 20

  -oOo-

  Hanging lamps lit the rich, red wood of Baroness Vallenfelt’s office. It was smaller than Esmeralda's workspace at the Academy. If four or five persons entered the room, it might feel cramped, but with only two the office remained quite open.

  “■■, ■■■, ■■.”

  With a fast incantation, the petite brunette sealed the space. Firm steps brought Emily around the wooden barrier to claim Esmeralda’s chair as though it were her own. Her flawless poise and posture mirrored Sylvia’s teacher to perfection.

  “Sit.”

  The command held the baroness’s tone and authority. Without thinking, Sylvia sat.

  “Mmm,” Emily hummed angrily, cheeks puffing adorably. “Not over there. Over here. Sit next to me. And turn your back so I can do your hair.”

  And there was the cute girl Sylvia remembered.

  “Are you sure this is a good idea?” she asked without moving. “I thought you wanted to keep your identity hidden.”

  “That was my wish,” Emily said, seriously. “However, seeing the severity of the situation I can no longer be bothered. Also, I believe I gave you an order.”

  “I thought you were joking,” Sylvia groaned.

  The witch lifted the guest chair and brought it around the table.

  “Better,” the brunette said, nodding in approval. “Now, my sweet apprentice, tell me who is threatening you?”

  Sylvia’s eye twitched. It was impossible to take the brunette seriously when she was tugging at Sylvia’s braided tress.

  “It’s not him threatening me. It’s his enemies. And he has a lot of enemies.” Six-hundred-and-sixty-six planes worth of them. “Are you certain? I wasn’t joking when I said we should sever our apprenticeship. Being caught up in this isn’t good and the moment I tell you, you’ll lose all deniability.”

  “Two.”

  …

  “Two what?” Sylvia asked.

  “For the next two months, you will wear your hair however I desire,” Emily huffed. “And if you don’t answer my question, it’ll be three.”

  “Emily, I’m being serious here,” Sylvia said, exasperated.

  “And so was I,” Emily returned, coldly. “Three months. Now cease your dithering, Sylvia Swallows.”

  “Emily. Please,” Sylvia ground out.

  Delicate fingers brushed through her braid, unwinding locks of hair.

  “Sylvia,” she said softly while the ribbon slipped through silver strands. “I’m happy you want to protect me. But I am the adult and you are the child. When I took you as my apprentice, I knew I might be wrapped in another’s scheme. So let me be the one who protects you.”

  The brunette let out a pleased hum. The last of Sylvia’s braid fell apart. Emily merrily lifted a tuft of silver hair.

  “Also, four.”

  “Oh, come on!” Sylvia groaned.

  “Hmph,” Emily huffed. “I’m doing this for your own good. The sooner you drown all that stubbornness in a sea of cuteness, the sooner you’ll be happy living as a girl!”

  At least she didn’t say five.

  What Emily did was tie a ribbon around Sylvia’s right tail.

  “Lucifer,” Sylvia finally admitted. “It’s Lucifer. The Devil. The Light Bringer. The Great Betrayer. Lucifer, the enemy of Heaven, is my backer. Not that I’d call that booger a backer.”

  “Mmm,” Emily sounded, working on the left tuft. “See. That didn’t hurt at all. It’s just Lucifer. Why are you making such a big deal about it?”

  The sweet and gentle words might’ve set Sylvia’s mind at ease if she hadn’t sensed Emily’s slight quiver.

  “That’s why I didn’t want to tell you,” Sylvia said quietly. “When Heaven finds out, they’ll hunt me down. When they do, they’ll interrogate you. I… I can’t do that to you.”

  “Sylvia,” Emily said sharply. She leaned around, so her face could be seen. “You’re smarter than that. People are only responsible for their own actions.”

  “I know.”

  “Then why are you taking responsibility for what Heaven will do? If they find out, what they do will be their fault,” Emily espoused. “And, I think you’re worrying too much. Heaven can be zealous, but overall they are quite reasonable.”

  “Maybe if circumstances were different,” Sylvia muttered.

  The System was no small matter. Perhaps Heaven would look aside if Sylvia were the only one who had it, but what would they do when a dozen ‘gamers’ showed up? Or a hundred? Or a thousand?

  When the scale reached the point it threatened their interests, Heaven would react violently. Not just them. Hell and the Fey Federation would also flip their lid.

  And, as the advent of what was to come, half the hate would fall squarely on her.

  Because that was just how humans were.

  “Lucifer edited my soul,” Sylvia explained. “That’s why I’m so compatible with my code. That’s why I picked up two traits on the first consolidation instead of one.”

  “Mm-hmm,” Emily hummed. The brunette tugged at a pair of bows, checking to make sure they were balanced. Then she whispered a spell. “■■ ■■■”

  Tingling ether spread through Sylvia’s tresses. With a light finger, Emily twirled the right tail. Shit. She was making them curly. Oh god. It was really happening.

  Her masculinity was never going to recover from this.

  “It’s also why I learn things so fast,” Sylvia continued, doing her damned best not to think about her hair. “You probably noticed….”

  “I did,” Emily confirmed. “Fast casting after three months. Very impressive. And you learned the entire Lesser Codex. Though it only took me two.”

  The brunette bounced Sylvia’s left tress. Her hair danced adorably. Not noticing. Definitely not noticing. Deep in denial, Sylvia squeezed her pastel pink eyes closed.

  Ugh. At least Emily had exhausted her fun.

  “You learned five hundred runes in two months?” Sylvia muttered, disbelieving.

  Emily giggled. “Don’t be silly. It was two months before I fast cast my first spell. But you were far more impressive. It might’ve been three months, but you were casting under duress. And four runes per syllable!”

  Freak. Esmeralda Vallenfelt was a genuine freak of nature.

  Also, she hadn’t missed a single thing, had she?

  “■■■.” Emily chanted another spell before resuming. “How does that work anyway? I’m very curious.”

  “I collect a kind of… energy and use it to… absorb knowledge?” Sylvia answered. She frowned. “And what did you do to my hair?”

  “I added sparkles.”

  “You what!” Sylvia squeaked in outrage.

  “It’s super cute. You’ll love it,” Emily said sweetly.

  Sylvia turned, grinding her teeth in irritation. “I’m already letting you put my hair into pigtails.”

  “Sylvia Swallows, I said I will style your hair however I please,” Emily said firmly, her shadowy eyes echoing the demeanor of Vallenfelt. “And I am quite aware that you are still hiding things from me.”

  Sylvia winced. Normally when she snapped back, Emily would back off. Today, Sylvia sank into her seat, feeling guilty for dragging Emily into this. Twin tails swayed, the coiled hair like adorable springs. From the corner of her eye, Sylvia spotted the glint of glitter. Pink. Of course it was pink. She felt sick. Her reputation was ruined. No one would be able to look at her and think she was anything but a girly-girl. Mad dog no more. Camila would be calling her psycho princess.

  Tch. That wasn’t even half as fun as murder bimbo.

  Not that she was aiming for Emily’s title.

  “This time I’m not allowed to explain,” Sylvia grumbled, slouching. She could feel the brunette glare, but she didn’t care. “Unless you’re willing to become Lucifer’s vassal.”

  Short of this and Sylvia would fail the quest. Then her System would lock itself in safe mode.

  “Mmm,” Emily sounded fiercely, cheeks puffed. The petite brunette swung a fist in the sky. “I want to give that man a piece of my mind. Sylvia is mine. I made an oath to the Heavenly Will. If he wanted you, he should’ve claimed you first!”

  …

  He kinda did. One might even go so far to say that the Devil owned her soul. My, my, what a proper witch Sylvia was. Very traditional.

  “Well, he’s on Earth, so you can forget about – ”

  Ding!

  Sylvia stopped in mid-word. A new window had appeared. Sylvia’s eye twitched. That fucking piece of shit was spying on her, wasn’t he?

  The moment Sylvia finished reading through the first window, a second one appeared. This showed a screen reminiscent of the call window on a smartphone. A design which the shameless copyright violator Lucifer undoubtedly stole. What were they going to do, sue the Devil?

  The name ‘Administrator’ was already set in the box.

  While Sylvia was distracted, Emily slipped around the silver-haired witch and clipped a pin onto her left bangs. Smiling, the brunette took two steps back to eye her apprentice critically.

  “And now you’re perfect!” Emily paused. “No, wait. I should color your lips. And add gloss!”

  “Hair only!” Sylvia snapped.

  Annoyed, the silver-haired witch reached and fiddled with the clip. At least it felt star-shaped. Sylvia half feared it’d be a heart.

  Emily stuck out her tongue. “No matter how long you struggle, you’ll never escape my grasp.”

  “You sound like a villain.”

  The adorable brunette raised her nose haughtily. “I’m too cute to be a villain.”

  “You are, literally, a demon from Hell,” Sylvia deadpanned. Then she took a deep breath, expression turning serious. “If you want to give the bugger a piece of your mind, you might have a chance.”

  In for a penny, in for a pound. Besides, since the System was offering, that meant it wasn’t Sylvia’s fault if Lady Vallenfelt refused the Devil’s offer. Right?

  … Right?

  …

  Yeah. That wasn’t how the asshole worked.

  Emily’s gaze turned sharp. “Good. Then let me speak with the man who dares bully my adorable apprentice.”

  Then so be it. With her will, Sylvia spun causality and psychic mana into the aspect information, feeding it into the System interface in her soul.

  -oOo-

  When Sylvia opened her eyes, she found herself on a balcony overlooking a city.

  Fifty floors below, streets ran side by side in a perfect grid. Lights flowed up and down their length. For a second, Sylvia mistook her location for Earth. Then, as she gazed longer, she realized this was no city. Instead of houses and commercial complexes, the buildings were chips, capacitors, and resistors. The streets were wires. The highways, gray cables stretching across the circuit board’s length.

  “A soul domain.”

  Sylvia’s eyes shifted. Emily stood beside her, gaze sweeping heaven and earth.

  “I don’t think this is my soul,” Sylvia murmured.

  A soul was a cognitive space. An idea given reality. It had no form. When gazing into the soul, one would find as many depictions as there were viewers. There were certain consistencies. A core. A nucleus. An outer territory. But beyond that, shape was limited only by imagination.

  If this was Sylvia’s soul, then she was gazing at it from a brand-new angle.

  “If you are unsure, there is an easy way to tell,” Emily said, demeanor like a teacher’s. “Look for the things you have stored inside.”

  “Right.”

  She focused. With her mind, Sylvia pulled. Nothing. This wasn’t her soul. Sylvia was certain now.

  “Then where are we?” she asked.

  Eleven gray columns rose from the city. Towers akin to the poles that carried streetlights, each as tall as a skyscraper. From them extended branches. Most stood empty. Others held colored spheres, like ornaments on a pitiful Christmas tree.

  Then, at the center, was the greatest tower of them all. The building was a pillar of twisted cord rising ten stories higher than the balcony on which they stood. Above that tower floated a lumpy, multi-colored amalgamation of massive spheres. Color upon color was cast by the blob until the cascade became white clipped with fragments of rainbow.

  “A soul domain,” Emily repeated.

  A haze eclipsed the petite brunette. Cute, perfectly coiffed hair was displaced by an emerald fountain. For an instant, a nebula reflected in the girl’s shadowy eyes. An image so beautiful, Sylvia could sink into it forever.

  The visage of Baroness Esmeralda Vallenfelt.

  “The soul by nature has neither shape nor form,” Emily explained. “The consciousness of origin can simply imagine the soul into existence. However, for a foreign mind to enter the soul, they must first render it tangible. This can be done using the elements soul, dream, or mutation. A soul domain is a palace formed when the soul is forced into form or structure.”

  “That reminds me of a video game,” Sylvia mused. “If this is a palace, could someone snatch its heart?”

  As Sylvia’s mind turned to the past, her body grew larger. Her tiny waist bulged, while her breasts were drawn into her chest. The dainty, silver-haired witch was replaced by a pudgy, thirty-year-old salary man. Eric stroked his chin. An afternoon’s stubble added texture.

  So much more satisfying.

  “Ew, ew, ew,” Emily whined, waving her adorable fists. “Go away and give me back my Sylvia!”

  The mirage broke. Eric snapped back to Sylvia while the illusion of Esmeralda was replaced by Emily Clark.

  “I’m not that ugly,” she complained.

  “Of course not,” Emily soothed, reaching out to tweak the other girl’s bangs. “You’re absolutely adorable.”

  Sylvia groaned. She had the worst friends.

  “Yes. You, too, can be a phantom thief,” Emily confirmed, thrusting a hand into the air. After spinning on her toe, the brunette walked around the balcony. “But you shouldn’t do it. The dream element can change the nature of a soul. It can make you hate what you love and love what you hate.”

  “But the karmic cost is too heavy,” Sylvia interrupted.

  After traveling a dozen meters, the two of them found a gondola and stepped inside. The floating carriage slid away from the balcony, following a thread of light. As they departed, Sylvia looked back. A silver sphere. One of thirteen, each with different colors, circling the central tower.

  “Mmm,” Emily sounded, cheeks puffed. She wagged a finger. “You have to be careful, Sylvia. Those old men in Hell like to snatch up cute girls. No matter how much karma it costs, they have more than enough to spare.”

  “Is that why you’re out here in the boondocks?” Sylvia joked.

  “In my first life, I acquired the interest of an archduke,” Emily replied seriously, her stern gaze holding no humor. The mirage of Esmeralda wrapped Emily again. “It is wise to beware, not to be fearful. Though the power of dreams inspires terror, it is not so easily wielded. Prometheus, more than any other, cannot afford such a mistake. For though he receives from the Will its greatest love, he is also the quickest to draw its ire.”

  Prometheus. The one who stole fire from the gods. The light bringer. Ha. She should’ve known.

  “There is still psychic magic,” Sylvia pointed out.

  Emily, or perhaps, Esmeralda shook her head.

  “The psychic element can mask the mind, but it cannot touch the soul. No matter what spell is cast, when washed away, true feeling will emerge once more.”

  This time, it was Sylvia’s turn to refute. “Even if psychic magic can’t touch the soul, it can still be used to brainwash.”

  Words, propaganda, and deception could transform the masses. Though psychic magic couldn’t replace one’s nature, who was to say cunning methods couldn’t produce the same result? Souls grew, even after death. They were shaped by feelings, emotions, and experience. If not, how could a demon learn?

  And if a demon could learn, then, by indirection, the psychic element could slowly but surely twist the soul into whatever shape the caster desired.

  Speaking of which…. Sylvia’s eyes narrowed.

  “You haven’t been using psychic magic on me, have you?” Sylvia questioned.

  The image of Esmeralda shattered. An adorable brunette giggled. “Silly Sylvia. I hate to break it to you, but all that cuteness came nat~u~ral~ly.”

  “Is that so,” Sylvia responded dully. “Then, you admit you’ve been brainwashing me conventionally.”

  The brunette stuck out her tongue.

  Clung.

  The gondola came to a stop.

  All playfulness vanished from Emily’s face. With it was lost the brunette figure. A waterfall of gorgeous, green hair spilled down her back. Her skin, a perfect peach. Hers was a flawless figure that captured the ideal of both cherub and aristocrat.

  Esmeralda Vallenfelt.

  Sylvia found herself standing beside her master, the visage complete with the poise and posture of the baroness. Yet, a few things remained out of place. There was a big, white bow in her emerald hair. Stray ribbons decorated her elegant dress. A youthful touch which separated Emily Clark from Lady Vallenfelt’s mature refinement.

  Somehow, it made Sylvia smile.

  Cl-clack. Cl-clack. Cl-clack.

  They entered a steel fortress, high-heels clacking on the tile floor. Fluorescent lights illuminated the hall. Metal walls were cut in the shape of a diamond, with glass windows facing out to the right. Through them, they could see the city of circuits, lending the passage a sci-fi feel.

  Then, the hall opened into a conference room.

  The space was broad, wide enough to fit scores. In the center was a long, metal table surrounded by comfortable leather chairs. To the left and right hung flat screen monitors. To the fore, a window granted a view of the realm beyond.

  A blond in a white suit waited for them at the table’s head.

  Lucifer. The Devil himself.

  Sylvia glanced past him, eyes drawn to the screens. Several showed familiar cities. Roads, cars, streets, signs and lights. Tall buildings made of glass. Earth. The others revealed lists, data, and web pages. On one, Sylvia spotted the System Forum. Three of seven measly topics were in view, the top of which read: So, I’m thinking about buying a skill book.

  To the right of that a monitor showed the top ten merit owners. At the pinnacle was MrDeepPockets with 4,122 merit points, followed by ResearchKing with 1,863. In third place, was a user named CutestSilverBird with a much more reasonable 926.

  …

  …

  That fucker! Sylvia glowered. Wasn’t 926 the exact number of points she’d earned?

  Bastard. The moment Sylvia could afford to buy Forum privileges, she was fixing her username.

  Also, how the hell was she in third place? Sylvia had it on good authority she was the only person with a System in the netherworld. Hax! She called hax!

  “Esmeralda Vallenfelt, Laureate of Magic, discoverer of the rune Yithmafar,” Lucifer greeted with unusual grace.

  Emily elegantly claimed a chair at the foot of the conference table.

  “I merely unraveled a rune of little consequence,” she returned politely. “Your work on Luciferian Chains, however, was transformative. Even in modern times, it still provides the foundation of nearly all enchantments.”

  A slimy smile stretched across Lucifer’s face.

  “It’s good you know your place, little girl.” The man leaned forward, blue eyes conveying his sneer. “What? I respect your accomplishment. That is all. To me, you are still a babe fresh from her mother’s womb. What hubris. Playing with the nether code I wrought, did you really think you could add anything to my work?”

  Ah. There was the Lucifer Sylvia knew. Cosmic grade asshole.

  May this fucker get his.

  …

  Er. May he get his long after Sylvia had cut ties. She didn’t want to be caught in the fray.

  “Oh? That was your work?” Emily feigned with an impish manner that belied Esmeralda’s visage. “I apologize. I didn’t see your name on it. So, I wrote mine instead.”

  “And we descend to childish games,” Lucifer scoffed. The handsome blonde leaned back, tenting his hands. “Tell me, girl, am I speaking to Emily Clark or Esmeralda Vallenfelt?”

  Emily’s magnificent eyes were judging. “It seems you are, indeed, as charming as rumor implies.”

  “I suspect that you’ll find me plenty charming by the end,” Lucifer said with the smirk of a corrupt politician. He gestured, as though waving away trivialities. “You came here with questions and desires. It just so happens that I have answers. So, let’s have the two meet.”

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  “Then, I will be bold,” Emily asserted, her posture prim and proper. “What do you want in exchange for Sylvia?”

  “Now, now, Miss Clark” Lucifer sneered, his tone and punctuation of the woman’s name making clear his insult. “People aren’t objects to be bought and sold. But I’ll be generous and assume you were asking: what would it take to release Sylvia from my design? That, dear, is impossible. My code is already wound throughout the girl’s soul. Nothing can undo a weave so deep short of the shattering of the soul itself.”

  The Devil smiled as Emily’s eyes darkened, seeming to revel in her suffering.

  “But before we negotiate further, perhaps you should ask ‘your Sylvia’ whether she wants to be ‘free’.”

  Lucifer grinned. Emily’s head jerked, gazing to her left where Sylvia still stood. Sylvia’s smile was sheepish.

  “Sylvia,” she whispered, looking askance.

  What was she supposed to say? ‘Please rip my soul apart.’ ‘I don’t want to be special anymore.’ The System had been with her since she was twelve. Sylvia couldn’t imagine life without it. In fact, she hadn’t come here asking to be ‘freed’ in the first place.

  “You are quite the creature of emotion, Miss Clark,” Lucifer needled. “Let me make the truth clear. A picture, they say, is worth a thousand words.”

  The Devil snapped his fingers. In the air appeared a blue window.

  It was her status screen.

  Emily glanced at the image then at Sylvia in confusion.

  “Is this not sufficient?” Lucifer mocked. “Then let’s try another.”

  Snap.

  The status screen blinked out. A quest entry replaced it. This time, Sylvia scowled.

  “It looks you’re in luck, Miss Clark,” Lucifer continued, spreading his arms as though things were out of his hands. “You can ‘free’ your apprentice by the simple act of refusing my offer. Though, I wonder how your apprentice will feel about that. And, I would not be so quick to presume the lords of Heaven and Hell will agree that our bond was severed.”

  Sylvia looked at her friend, nervously. The illusion called Esmeralda wavered, revealing hints of the petite brunette beneath.

  “Emily – ”

  “Mmm,” Emily sounded, cheeks puffing. “Is that why you didn’t tell me anything?”

  “I didn’t want you to feel forced.”

  Emily glared. “Is it that important to you?”

  The silver-haired witch grimaced, pastel pink eyes turning away from the brunette.

  “Without it, I’d be nothing special.”

  Because she wasn’t. In terms of talent, ability, and drive, Eric Swallow had always been ordinary. That which divided him from the masses was only this unimposing blue screen. The Devil might have taken his soul, unasked, but in another universe Eric might well have sold it instead.

  Because no one wished to live and die without meaning.

  “You’d still be special to me,” Emily whispered in a small voice.

  “Relationship troubles?” Lucifer taunted.

  The brunette’s image blurred. By the time her gaze fell upon the Devil, Lady Vallenfelt had returned.

  “Is that it? A video game?” she questioned, words crisp. “Quests, levels, and attribute points. You even have her collecting experience by killing monsters. Is this supposed to impress? To think, you show this and insinuate that I am the child.”

  “Let’s just say I was inspired by mortals,” Lucifer laughed. “My dream has always been utopia. And what is utopia if not a game? When the golden dream died, leaving behind tarnished silver, I contemplated where I went wrong. Was it Zeus’s lust for power? Was it the fools who feared Heaven would fracture, only for their suspicion to make it so?

  “But at the kernel, I came to understand, was a fatal flaw of its own design. What is utopia? What is it that humans desire? Back then, I thought they wished for love, safety, and happiness. A pure and simple life. It was only when I watched mortals fight, kill, and murder that I grasped the truth. What humans desire is the struggle. A fruit freely given is an empty reward. Only one obtained through your own strength has meaning.

  “Torment without lasting loss. Toil with worthy reward. To clash and overcome. To achieve, with your own two hands, that which you dream. This is man’s foremost wish. Games force players to suffer because that is what gives humans joy. A game is not utopia, but it is the closest thing to it humanity has ever created.

  “But what I have crafted is far more than a mere game.”

  “You have a means by which to refine and adapt code,” Emily asserted.

  “Yes,” Lucifer confirmed. The white-suited man stood, walking toward the window so he could gaze out into the digital city. “From the mortals on Earth, I learned a secret. Technology cannot be contained. And when its promise is great enough, the old will crumble no matter how desperately it resists.”

  The Devil’s smile, reflected on the glass by the fluorescent lights, was as broad as it was vicious.

  “There are many talents in the netherworld, no few greater than my own,” Emily countered. “All of the powers have developed tools, means, and resources. A way to increase talent is not unique.”

  “Denial does not become you, little girl,” Lucifer snorted. “Which fey, demon, or angel is born with perfect compatibility? Which of the great powers of the netherworld can promise the gift of supreme talent to every soul that enters their domain?”

  Emily’s umbral green eyes narrowed. “Impossible. Perfect compatibility is a myth. Even if it were to exist, the outer membrane would retain flaws as witnessed in the souls of those who have reached the eighth consolidation.”

  “Conventional wisdom is only wisdom until it’s wrong,” Lucifer replied, turning away from the window. “Don’t tell me you’ve been ignoring the results of your own research, Miss Vallenfelt.”

  Emily’s tone was cold. “Do you even know what those words mean?”

  “I am quite capable of math,” Lucifer retorted snidely, gracefully reclaiming his executive seat. “It means your ‘apprentice’ will touch upon Apotheosis in two to six decades, depending on how well she is resourced. The only wild card is the three mutations, which my System can do little to help her cross.”

  Lucifer leaned forward, wearing a malicious grin.

  “You are just a post on the side of the road, little girl. Today, you are her guardian. Tomorrow, you’ll be her equal. The day after, you will already have been forgotten.”

  “You!” Emily stood angrily. “Sylvia would never – ”

  “Oh? So you would accept your place as a helpless maid upon whom your apprentice dotes?” Lucifer condescended. “How much time and preparation have you set aside for just the fourth consolidation? This entire life as Emily Clark, if I’m not mistaken.”

  The Devil scoffed.

  “And another century for Transcendence.”

  Emily’s expression was frigid.

  “So, this is how you plan to lure me in. With promises of power.” Emily concluded, reclaiming her seat as though her outburst had never happened. “I will admit, I know little of how your ‘System’ works, but it is clear that its code must be laid first and the bloodline second.”

  “Finally, you show proper interest.” Lucifer smiled like the slickest, dirtiest used car salesman. “You are right, of course. But every problem has a solution.”

  The Devil snapped his fingers. In the center of the table appeared a large fruit. It was red, like an apple, with a strange translucence. Beneath the skin were veins and arteries pumping runes instead of blood. Millions upon millions of tiny, glittery runes.

  “No one likes being left behind,” he said gently. “And why should you? Earth is extraordinarily confining. I would like, very much, to extend my hand into the nether. Why not become my vanguard? That way, you’ll remain beside your precious Sylvia, ready to share her every burden.”

  “What is it?” Sylvia interrupted.

  “An Apple of Idunn, also known as the fruit of life,” Emily answered. The majestic nebula in her eyes reflected longing. “It combines the elements blood and soul into the element mutation, prompting an evolution of the bloodline code. It is raw possibility in its most advantageous form.”

  Her gaze rose, fluorescent light glinting off gorgeous green locks.

  “I will admit, I am quite tempted,” she stated. “However, I must ask, where would you acquire such a fruit? Don’t tell me you’re hiding a tree of life on the world of origin.”

  “That would be a sight,” Lucifer chuckled. “But no. When the Fifth Piece assisted the Fey Federation in creating the Law of Wood, they rewarded him with three world trees. One was extinguished when Heaven brought about his end. The second was claimed by the Tenth Piece. The last remains hidden, waiting for a worthy Devil. And that Devil will be me.”

  A world tree wasn’t a specific breed of phantasm. Rather, a world tree was a hybrid creature born from multiple beings. Yggdrasil was the most famous of its kind, created from a tree of life, a cosmic ash, and a primordial pine. Though Yggdrasil’s recipe was well known, the exact manner in which the trees were grafted remained a strategic secret held by the Fey Federation.

  As for their worth? It was beyond imagining. A world tree gave birth to a world. A minor plane controlled by the tree’s phantasm. Owning a world tree was no different than owning an aircraft carrier, complete with its own battlegroup.

  “Having to work for my employment bonus stifles my interest,” Emily derided, echoing the aristocratic manner of Esmeralda.

  “A fruit of life is hardly the only benefit to owning a world tree,” Lucifer retorted.

  “But would the tree be mine? I think not,” Emily returned.

  “Yours? No. But you would be the first to lay claim to the land and territory. When the next souls arrive, you would be there to shape its cities and government. Don’t tell me you aren’t enticed.”

  “You tempt me with more work.”

  Lucifer leaned forward.

  “The fruit of life is already a priceless treasure, little girl. Combined with my System, Apotheosis would be well within reach.” Lucifer sneered. “Or do you wish to muddle along with your crude measures? Making clones to enlarge your soul. Experimenting on witches, hoping to find clues on how to extend your code. You are quite brilliant, I will say that. A Laureate of Magic. You even went so far as to synthesize a bloodline while mortal. Both are exceptional feats.

  “But your nether code has too many flaws. No matter how you flail and struggle, Transcendence is forever your limit. You made a mistake. You know it, and I know it.”

  Emily’s expression fell briefly before being replaced by a still mask. “You would have me install your System knowing not the shackles with which I would be bound.”

  “How is that different than any other bloodline?” Lucifer spat, his blue eyes glinted with anger. “You accuse me and I ask, was the Heavenly Will a trap?”

  “Hell has not forgotten the tribulation,” Emily retorted icily.

  “Do not place Zeus’s perversions on me,” Lucifer said, voice rising.

  “Am I to ignore your lies regarding the Oath of – ”

  “I told no lies,” Lucifer rejected. “I simply did not explain the full portent. And a child should refrain from commenting on events that occurred five-thousand years before she was born. I will not speak further on this topic. I have made clear the benefits of working for me: a fruit of life, a path to Apotheosis, and a world to build your kingdom. And, let us not forget, an opportunity to remain with ‘your’ Sylvia.

  “Or, if you prefer, you can leave. With all the consequence that comes with it.”

  Lucifer leaned back in his chair, evil eyes veering toward the silver-haired witch. Sylvia scowled.

  “Don’t use me against her,” she warned.

  “How cute,” the Devil said, snidely.

  “She is,” Emily breathed quietly to herself.

  Thanks, Emily. Sylvia glowered. Shit. She hated this. Dealing with the Devil for herself was one thing. She didn’t want to deal on behalf of her teacher. Nor did she want Emily to deal on her own behalf.

  Drawing a deep breath, Sylvia addressed Emily, looking past the facade of Lady Vallenfelt.

  “Emily, you don’t have to do this,” Sylvia said. “I’ll admit. I like being special. Killing monsters. Completing quests. Leveling up. It’s fun. I don’t care about helping this bonbon. He can rot. I do it for me. Because, I want to do something with meaning.”

  In that, Lucifer was right. As Eric Swallow, her life had been empty. There was no goal to achieve and no dream to chase. The fantasies of childhood had been dashed by the ugliness of reality. People were small. With their tiny hands, it was hard to change anything.

  Even if Eric had been born with a heroic heart, that gray world would not move easily.

  “I spent thirty years of my life being normal,” she continued. “Even without the System, I can still cultivate. I can still study magic. I can cross the second consolidation and Awaken.” Her lips quirked. “Maybe I’ll become a devil.”

  She recalled the years spent alone in her apartment. A fat salary man with no hope that things would ever get better. She didn’t want to live like that. She didn’t really want to be Sylvia. Although her female identity had slowly become normalized, it wasn’t what she wished for.

  But this life was better.

  As Sylvia, she had friends. As Sylvia, she could do things. As Sylvia, she had a beautiful teacher to help her through the difficult times.

  Even if that teacher conspired to turn her into a lady.

  As Sylvia, she could imagine her life getting better. As Eric Swallow, there was only an endless emptiness followed by death and decay.

  “I’ll just be slower. And I’ll be… ordinary.”

  Without the System, she’d fuck up her consolidations. From time to time, she’d have to transmigrate and try again from the start. When she succeeded, she’d get fewer traits and be less powerful. Her cultivation would take longer, and she’d have to learn magic the hard way like a normal witch.

  Imagining it hurt. She didn’t want that. Sylvia didn’t like the idea at all.

  But she’d hate it more if Emily threw away her future. Emily shouldn’t do that. Nobody should do that. Ever.

  Because Sylvia certainly wouldn’t let her own dreams die just to fit the mold of her master. Though, she was likewise not so young and foolish as to insist her dream should remain forever unchanged even as the people around her revealed alternative paths.

  “What I’m saying is, you should choose for yourself,” Sylvia finished.

  “Mmm,” The brunette’s eyes shimmered with the hint of tears, the adult illusion stripped bare. “I picked the best apprentice.”

  Her gaze returned to the Devil.

  “If I were to accept, what would be expected of me?”

  Lucifer smiled. The fish had taken the bait. Sylvia could only hope this was what Emily wished for.

  “There are three things I require. First, you must assist me in claiming the world tree. This is to your benefit as much as mine. Next, you must provide access to your micro – ”

  “So, you are aware of that,” Emily interrupted, tone cool.

  “Of the doors opened to Origin in the last three decades, a quarter was yours alone,” Lucifer replied. “I would be a fool if I did not notice. And it’s only a matter of time before others deduce your actions as well. Anyone can guess you have a gate, girl.”

  Emily pressed her lips together.

  “It’s not for sale.”

  “The only reason you still hold that plane is because Archduke Asmodeus lusts for your flesh,” Lucifer said snidely. “Unless you wish to join his harem, you'd best give it up.”

  Emily’s expression turned ugly. “And you believe you can hide it.”

  “I am more experienced in such matters,” Lucifer confirmed. “And I won’t be using it to smuggle souls into the netherworld where even the village idiot could guess the method by which they came.”

  “You are an exceptionally rude man,” Emily said, miffed.

  “Some even say I’m the root of all evil,” Lucifer laughed.

  “And what is the last?”

  “Swear yourself as my vassal.”

  Emily pressed her lips. “And once I do, how much will you demand?”

  “Nothing.” Lucifer spread his arms. “It might seem strange, but I spent my last century on Earth. I have become accustomed to paying my minions rather than asking for their labor out of loyalty. Anything more and you will be justly rewarded.”

  The asshole didn’t even hide the fact that he thought of them as minions.

  “A fruit of life in exchange for labor and a plane worth far more than the apple itself,” Emily mused. “It hardly seems worth the troubles it would bring down upon my head.”

  “Not just a fruit, an opportunity. You have tasted the splendor of technology. You understand how entire nations can be made or broken by a new invention. I have married machine learning to the mysteries of the soul. Pandora’s box has been opened. The genie has left its bottle. There is no turning back. A great wave is coming, and the old world will be drowned beneath it. I grant you the chance to ride that tsunami rather than be swallowed by the churning waters below.”

  Emily shook her head. “An idea, once proven, is not so easily erased. But what certainty is there that it will be your wave that sweeps the netherworld? Perhaps your System will be crushed and it will be another, decades from now, which brings forth the great transformation.”

  “True,” Lucifer relented. “But if it is not mine, then the wave that comes will have nothing to do with you.”

  “To side with the Devil and become Heaven’s mortal enemy, or to stand aside and be forgotten by the flow of history.” Emily sighed. “A difficult choice.”

  “I would think it is an easy one,” Lucifer countered. The blond man’s smile was especially slimy. “Seeing as how Heaven will most certainly treat you as an enemy regardless. Don’t blame me for that one, child. It was you who swore an oath before the Heavenly Will.”

  “I see.”

  Emily remained quiet for a moment. Then gracefully, she stood. Taking a step away from her chair, she fell into an elegant curtsy.

  “Then from now on, I shall be your humble servant, my lord Prometheus.” Then Emily’s sweetness vanished, replaced by glacial iron. “However, I shan’t move a single finger without proper remuneration. Further, I must make clear, Sylvia is mine. You will not touch her without my permission.”

  With eyes as hard as the vacuum of space, Emily made clear her claim.

  “Excellent,” the Devil proclaimed, leaning forward in his seat. “Then, let us hash out the finer details of our contract.”

  Ding!

  Was this a good thing or a bad thing? Regardless, Sylvia had a pile of merit points in which to drown her tears.

  …

  Speaking of which, Sylvia looked up. The screen listing the top ten merit earners had changed. Now, CutestSilverBird stood at the peak. Beside the user’s name was the total lifetime merits: 5,926 points.

  -oOo-

  Terms:

  Demon

  1. Archaic: A humanoid being, born from a mortal soul, that stands between man and god.

  2. A person who belongs to Hell, especially a citizen who has taken the Oath of Prosecution.

  The word demon originates from the Ancient Era and was used to distinguish the human-like denizens of the netherworld from both mortals and monsters. In modern times, this word is most commonly used to refer to those that reside in Hell, regardless of their shape or nature.

  In Heaven and many material worlds, the epitaph demon has become pejorative. This is also true, to a lesser degree, in the Fey Federation. People from these areas instead describe themselves as celestials or fey. However, in Hell, the identity of demon is still worn with pride.

  Fey

  1. Archaic: A non-human being that nevertheless maintains a human identity.

  2. A person who belongs to the Fey Federation.

  3. Anyone subject to the Law of Wood.

  4. Faeries, particularly Aos-Si of the Tuatha genera.

  The word fey came into use during the latter half of the Age of Blood. It was first used by the dragons to separate themselves from monsters. The broad recognition of fey as a distinct group was one of the key elements that brought about the Age of Magic.

  In modern times, the word fey has become fuzzier. While it is used to refer to the denizens of the Fey Federation, it has also been extended to independent kingdoms that unify under the Law of Wood. Even the oldest definition finds common use when speaking of ‘wild fey’, souls that Awaken with a human mind after absorbing code from a phantasm.

  Celestial

  1. A modern word identifying the residents of Heaven, especially those higher in the hierarchy.

  2. A person who receives grace under the Law of Heaven.

  The first usage of the name celestial traces back to the early Golden Age. Initially, it referred to those of the ouranios lineage who occupied the thirty-three planes which became Heaven. By the end of the Golden Age, all the citizens of Heaven were called celestials and the words fey and demon fell out of common use.

  This changed after the Utopia War. When Hell split from Heaven, its citizens reclaimed the name demon so as to reject the Heaven’s rule. The word fey re-emerged a millennium later with the appearance of the Fey Federation.

  Clans

  In the netherworld, a clan is a group of demons who share a relation and work toward a unified end. Most clans function like corporations, gathering resources and money for the elders and the clan head. The majority of clans are bloodline clans, which is to say, the clan almost entirely consists of a single bloodline.

  A clan is distinct from other organizations, mainly by virtue of shared relation. Typically, demons are born into their clan then raised in that clan. This makes for a connection far deeper than that of a mere employee. However, as demons do not grow up in the same sense as children, this relationship remains weaker than seen in clans in the material world.

  Some bloodlines are especially prone to clan structures. Vampires and werewolves are famous for it. Other bloodlines, such as hogmin and beast-kin, mainly enter Hell through the slave system. Because of this, being born to a clan is often indicative of higher status. Especially if the clan head or elders hold a higher noble title such as duke, marquis, or count.

  Codrin Clan

  The Codrin clan is headed by Viscount Vilhelm Codrin who serves as demon king for the Timeless Beryl Wilderness. It, therefore, represents the highest power of the plane. The Codrin Clan is a vampire clan consisting of five branches Codrin, Ghimpe, Frunze, Inima, and Ramura. It is subordinate to the Padure clan of Tartarus.

  The Codrins are considered head of the local clan, with the other four beneath and co-equal. The clan recruits new vampires by transforming souls drawn from Orasul Lunii’s soul well, adding one to two hundred a year. These new bloods are raised in the clan hall for no more than thirteen years. Vampires graduate into the clan by means of a selection ceremony. Of those selected, only a few will gain the surname Codrin, while the vast majority will join the four branches. The worst of the lot will be excluded entirely then granted the name Gol when their time is up.

  Vampires named Gol are stricken from the clan register, though they may still work for the clan as servants.

  The Codrin clan consists of seven thousand vampires, most of which live in Orasul Lunii. Of these, around three hundred have the surname Codrin.