---

I had looked both ways.

I damn well know I looked both ways.

It all happened so fast. That damned truck seemed to just come out of nowhere.

One moment the street was empty. Quite. A little cold. Some flickering street lights were giving me a headache, but that's nothing out of the ordinary.

I was walking, I had the right of way, but I was struck from the side. Even caught a glimpse of the vehicle that struck me as I slid against the pavement. Damn thing didn't even slow down to see what it hit! They just drove off!

Coming to a skidding stop, I was left on my back. My body shook from the impact even as I laid there. I moved my arm behind my head to check for any injury. It was actually hard to move my arm, everything felt so heavy. I think I might have broken my arm.

I felt a sticky smudge coating my hair.

Damn. The whole 'hit and fall' must have broken the skin. I winced as I felt around. Yep, skin was definitely broken, probably going to need some stitches. Well, on the bright side, at least it wasn't too bad. A good hit to the back of the head could be a whole lot worse than just needing stitches.

I noticed a few people running over to see if I was okay. They were saying something to me. My ears were ringing so I couldn't hear them. Didn't take a genius to guess they were asking something along the lines of ‘are you okay’. When I tried to tell them I was feeling a sharp pain in my chest and that I was feeling a bit light headed, but all that came out was a wet gurgle.

One of the people took out his phone, probably to call for help.

I felt really tired all of a sudden. Now, I know it's important to stay awake when you have a head injury. The frantic patting of my face by one of the onlookers made that painfully obvious. But the injury didn't feel that bad. In fact, other than the burning sensation at the back of my skull, I didn't feel any head pains. Probably a wound from skidding against the pavement.

Personally, I was more worried about my arm and chest. I couldn't feel the tips of my fingers and it felt challenging to breath. Probably broke a bone.

Or several.

You know what, I’m just going to rest my eyes. Only for a moment sir! No need to shake me! Just wake me up when the ambulance arrives. Or just give me something when they get here. They must have something to wake a person up.

My eyes closed, I felt a little better actually. Pain wise. My body was still a bit cold. Strange, its the middle of summer. Even at night it doesn't get that cold.

But almost as soon as I felt the cold seep into my bones, it was gone.

I opened my eyes, yet I saw only darkness.

First I thought my eyes were still closed. But no, I was sure they were open. It was dark. Couldn't even see the hand I was waving in front of my face!

There was a sound in the darkness. Soft, but noticeable. Not an angelic choir off to shepherd me to the pearly gates. Nor did it sound like the fires from down there. It was a soft humming sound. Like someone was humming a song to themselves.

Was I dead?

And then there was light!

It blinded me momentarily. Couldn't even close my eyes to block it out, my iris’s had to adjust for me to see anything.
But as my sight returned, everything seemed wrong.

The floor, walls, and ceiling of the room were of stone. A few carpets and hanging drapes here and there The room I was in was devoid of furniture, save a single mirror at the far end of the room. I couldn't see a door from where I was looking.

I tried to make sense of my surroundings.

It was then I noticed I was standing upright. And that I could not move. Not in the sense that I was tied in place, or restrained in any way, but that my body was not obeying me. I just couldn't move. Not even the smallest twitch of my fingers or toes. Hell, even my eyeballs did not move.

I was simply frozen.

Then I heard the humming again. This time from behind me. A figure just out of the corner of my eye. I tried to crane my neck over, but alas, I was unable to do so.

A minute went by. Then the figure crossed into my sight, and I saw it.

Not a man, but a monster.

It's skin was bone white. Eyes grayed over. Face far too long to be considered human. It also had no mouth in sight. Several thick tendrils ran down its body from the back of the head like hair. Black bone like things arced around its head like a crown. Its limbs were thin and spindly. Leg joints reversed like a styre or a bovine. Hoofed feet. Long and bony fingers at the end of its arms. It was garbed in the stranger of outfits; straps and buckles everywhere.

I tried to scream, but neither my mouth opened nor did any sound emanate from my throat. It seems whatever was keeping me like this was also making me mute.

I take back what I said earlier, this thing was a monster. Maybe I was there. More eldritch than demonic. Didn't think I lived a wicked enough life to go straight to hell. I was Jewish for fuck’s sake, we didn't even believe in hell!

Then the humming started again. The same humming from before. The soft, Human, humming that seemed to be coming from the monster.

The voice that emanated from this monster did not match what it should sound like. Rather than, well, anything inhuman, it sounds like a run of the mill person you could walk past on the street. Less an abomination, more that clerk at the supermarket you strike up a friendly conversation with as you pay.

It looked at the conjured panel of light and fiddled about with it. Bony finger jabs and swipes

This went on for some time. During which I could not move anything. I was stating ramrod straight, but didn't even flinch. but my muscles refused to tense up. My fingers remained ram rod still. Even my eyes stared straight ahead, any attempt to move them resulting in nothing. I could still see around my peripheries, but I couldn't actually move my eyes.

Actually, I did move. But not under my own power. My head craned up and down as the creature examined my face. My facial features as well would move without prompting. Smile. Frown. Angry. Scowling. My body also moved itself into a series of poses. Kneeling. A salute. An accusatory finger point.

Eventually, my arms were just brought back to my sides.

I stood like that for several more minutes, being scrutinized by the creature. It walked around me, speaking under its breath as it noted my form. The panel would follow it as it circled. I caught a brief glimpse of the other side of the panel as it circled me once more.

On it was a woman; no a girl. Blonde hair. Pale. Had a neutral expression on her face. Around the image were numerous tabs and different colored bars. There were also numbers, Arabic numerals to be precise, next to words and phrases. I only caught a few of them, the creature kept walking around: Resist, Karma, Special. Everything else was either too small, or went by so fast I could not read it. But their was one thing that bugged me. I had no knowledge of why I could read them. It certainly wasn't English. The language looked Asian in origin.

To be honest, the whole thing kind of looked like a character creation screen out of a video game.

Before I had time to ponder what the hell I was looking at, I heard another voice coming from behind me.

“Tabula-san!”

Just like the first, it didn't sound demonic or evil.

The monster, now in front of me, looked up from its panel. It then immediately returned to its ‘work’. “Oh, Peroroncino-san, you need something?” I swear, that voice seriously did not match what it looked like.

“I just came down to see what was taking you,” the other voice answered, male if I'm not mistaken. “You're late for the meeting.”

“Can't be, meeting's at six, it's only-” it stopped short, it made no obvious movements. Then a sigh, it turned its gaze from me. Its hand ran across its head in a motion not dissimilar from running fingers through hair, “Oh. Damn. Sorry about that. Kind of got sucked into editing my new NPC. I'll be right there, just have to save everything.”

Wait NPC? Did it mean the girl on the screen? What did I have to do with any of this?

“Really, I thought you were making Albedo shorter!” the man behind me sounds somewhat disappointed, “that you took my advice to heart.”

“What advice,” the creature questioned.

“You know. The whole smaller target smaller hit box-”

“I'm not turning my NPC's into lolis,” the creature shot a look at whatever was behind me.

Wait, lolis? Isn't that a-

“For your information, I never said to turn them into lolis!” I didn't need to see the man behind me to tell he was getting defensive about this, “I mean, I'd be great if you did. But that's not what I meant. Nigredo is fine how she is. Scary as hell, but fine. But Albedo's boobs are just a bit on the outrageous side. I mean come on! A real girl would have trouble just walking with those things! Maybe toning them down? Not flat, you made your stance on that clear. I mean, maybe, just a cup size or two-”

“No,” its voice made it seem quite final.

A groan of annoyance, “fine. Fine. So, who's this,” the voice changed the topic.

“I told you, my new NPC.”

“Yeah I know,” I didn't need to turn to tell an eye roll. “I meant what's her name?”

Then the source of the voice walked into my, forced, line of sight. It was no man. Well, technically it looked male, but it wasn't human. The closest thing I could relate it to was a 'birdman'. It stood as tall as a man. Has the rough shape of a man, but that was where the similarities ended.

It was covered in white feathers; except for the head which had hair. Real, human looking hair! The head was beaked and covered in a bronze mask. Arms, groin, and feet were similarly covered in bronze armor.

Once again, the voices did not match up with how these things looked.

“I gave her one, it's just hard to pronounce. Its Sytra- uh,Citrius-, fuck.” the cthulhu monster sighed. “Look it's hard to pronounce okay. It's this,” it gestured to the screen.

The birdman looked over, it whistled. “Damn. Why did you choose this of all names? Can’t you just call her something, you know, normal?”

“It's thematic,” the creature argued. “Less a name and more of a term of alchemy. Nigredo is first. Then Albedo. And then, this,” gesturing again to the screen. “I’m not going to break the theme for no reason.”

“Theme,” Birdman questioned. “The word doesn't even sound related to the first two; the other two end in an “O” for crying out loud!”

“I’ll make it work,” the creature sounded confident. “Worse comes to worse, I’ll just do what Touch Me-san did with his NPC. I really don't want to do that, but,” the voice seemed to peter off into mumbles.

Wait, who or what, the hell is a touch me? Sounds like a doll used in court, where the plaintiff asks for someone to point out where they were ‘touched’.

The birdman looked me over, then clapped his hands. “See! That's what I meant” it, gestured at me with its claws. “Normal boobs! Nothing outrageous with them.”

Wait, boobs? But I'm a-

“I think the word you're looking for is petite,” the first being responded, tapping away at his screen.

“No Shalltear is petite. This,” the bird man held its hands around my chest area, “is normal.”

Wait. Shalltear. I knew that name. It was from that anime I saw. What was it called again? Actually, come to think about it, I kind of recognized the other names I was hearing. Damn, what was the name of that show!

“Look you know what, let's just go to Momonga-san's meeting already. I really don't want to debate boob sizes with you. Again,” the squid hair monster dismissed the light panel with a flick of its bony wrist. It turned to walk away, leaving me without a second thought.

“Oh come on!” the Birdman cried out, following the creature's exit.

I listened as their, if comedic, argument grew softer in the distance.

Momonga. Now that I think about it, the name rings a bell with the other name. The show’s name was on the tip of my tongue.

Suddenly, the world went black.
...

Only for it to return in a blink of an eye. As if I had only shut my eyes for a moment.

I was in the same room. Once again I could not move a muscle. Even my eyes were immobile, no matter how much I struggled. The same creature from before, the eldritch one, stood before me. Again, a screen of light was in front of it. Diagonal rather than horizontal this time. No birdman. The creature ran its fingers across the panel’s surface.

Actually, now that I thought about it, the finger movements look very similar to keystrokes.

This second meeting went on for what felt like forever. More likely it was just an hour. The thing would keep walking around me. Inspecting me. Muttering to itself all the while. It was definitely doing something to me. Beyond the whole immobility thing. Something was changing.

For example, I felt like I was constantly shrinking down, and growing back up every few minutes. Like a platform beneath my feet was sinking into the ground, only to rise back up after a second. Inch by inch, the raising and lowering lessened. Almost akin to weighing a scale just right to have an equilibrium.

At the end of the whole process, I was definitely shorter then when it started.

Then I felt the tips of my hair start to grow a bit. Not long, but it definitely ran down to my neck.

Then the creature stopped looking at me for a time. Its attention is fully devoted to the panel. I heard it muttering to itself, but I could only catch bits of it.

“...blonde or gold….that one looks fine….just a bit higher….how the hell do you pronounce that anyway?”

Some time later, maybe ten or so minutes, it gave off a frustrated sigh, waving the panel away.

Again, it walked off.

Alone everything went to black again.
...

Only to, once again, come back nearly instantly.

This time, it was not the room from before. Less a dungeon cell, and more of an opulent throne room. Banners and pillars everywhere. A long rug ran to a large throne. It was vacant.

I also noticed that we were not alone.

Before me was an assortment of creatures. Maybe fifteen or so; not including the birdman and the first monster I met. A suit of silver armor, that might have a human shaped being inside it. A black sludge creature. A brownish sludge creature. A literal devil looking thing; goat façade, bovine, with a top hat. And a few other creatures that I didn't get a clear line of sight with.

One figure, however, stuck out over the others. Not for being horrific, truthfully, this one wasn't that scary. Just a large skeleton with beady red eyes in a purple and black robe. No. this thing stood out because I recognized it-Him.
It all came together now. The names. Shalltear. Momonga. Tabula. NPC. The panels of light that looked awfully similar to browsers and character creator tools. It was all coming to me now.

But, all if it was from that anime, light novel, whatever. It wasn't real. It couldn't be.

Right?

“So, Tabula-san, this is the NPC you’ve been working on?” The skeleton asked.

“Yeah,” the eldritch thing sounded excited. “Remember that issue we’ve been having with potions? Well, I present to you, Ainz Ooal Gown’s newest addition to the Nazarick,” the eldritch being looked over to a quickly materialized screen, as if unsure about pronouncing something, “Citrinitas, our guild’s newest alchemist NPC!”

A soft chorus of ohs and ahs followed. Large, speech bubble-like shapes form out of nowhere. Smiley faces. Thumbs up. A cartoony looking ribbon. I even saw a pink heart symbol from one of the beings.

Then came the talking. The Compliments on her appearance. Questions on her form, on her race. Critiques on her body, and compliments on her dress, from the birdman in particular. A girlish accusation from one of the slime creatures. Some people laughed at the display. More text boxes and emojis followed.

It was a fun time of merry making.

But for me?

I have no mouth, yet I must scream.

--

“You outdid yourself this time Tabula-san!”

The skeleton, Momonga, the protagonist of a series of fictional events, had dragged my creator, and by extension me, away when most of the guild had ‘logged off’ for the night.

“Well, I wouldn't go that far.”

Please...Stop…

“No need to be humble about it. She’s really good. An excellent addition to the guild!”

“To be honest, I almost scrapped her.”

Stop it….

“You did? What changed your mind?”

Just Stop it….

“I just had an...epiphany. Almost a second before I deleted her, I realized how I could make her work. I remembered what you said about the auction house. About how the crafting guilds were driving up prices on potions and other consumables. So I thought, why not make her own guild’s personal crafter.”

Let me wake up...please…

“Well, I certainly commend your can do spirit!”

“Thanks. Oh, before you go Momonga-san, I want to show you the best part.”

“Better than being able to create high tier potions ourselves?”

“Far better, and the greatest contribution she will give this guild. Watch this.”

A series of commands etched themselves into my brain. My body and mind moved of their own accord. I accepted the trade request from Tabula. There was a momentary pause as I wanted for his input. Open up a console, he keyed in his instructions: Transmute

My arms stretched out and glowed.

Transmuting [Silver Ore] into [Adamantine Ore]

Finishing the command, the window popped up again, and the newly minted ore was taken from my ‘inventory’.

“It might save us a bit of money and time but I don't really see-” Momonga regarded the ore in his own inventory.

“It doesn't stop there,” Tabula interrupted, “give her the ore again.”

Momonga opened up a trade menu, the ore now back in my inventory.

A new command popped up, and I was forced to obey.

Transmuting [Adamantine Ore] to [Silver Star Ore]

The ore was again quickly taken from me again.

The skeleton regarded the ore again, “How did...” The skeleton seemed genuinely confused. “I’ve heard of alchemist builds being capable of transmuting common ore into high tier ores. But I’ve never heard of them transmuting prismatic ores!”

“It's her Hermetic Class,” Tabula barely contained his glee, “it lets her transmute ores into prismatic ores!”

I saw a screen pop up in front of the Overlord, he regretted its contents critically.

“You'd think someone would have discovered that class by now. That the market should be flooded with prismatic- Wait,” Momonga was quiet for a moment. “Wasn’t Prismatic Forge a homunculi only guild who say their guild base is on a prismatic mine.”

Tabula chuckled, “and require their guild members to spec heavily into alchemy? What a coincidence.”

“And Terracotta, sell golems cores made from caloric stones…”

“Who also happens to be a homunculi dominant guild. Again, a coincidence of course, ”Tabula knowingly replied.

They went quiet for a moment. I didn't need to see facial expressions to know the gears in the skeleton's head were moving.

“It's not as effective as mining of course,” Momonga began, “in time it takes to transmute ores, especially low grade ore all the way to prismatic quality, you could mine dozens of times more ore right from the veins. And the amount of levels you need to invest in, both Race and Job, it's not optimal.”

“Some would say sixty levels for a steady stream of prismatic ores is worth it,” my creator pointed out.

“And others would say putting sixty levels into a homunculus-alchemist build for a trickle is not worth it in a PVP environment. Assuming it's restricted to Homunculi. I can see larger guilds invest in a number of NPC’s to passively generate, but still...sixty levels at least...” Momonga ran through scenarios in his head. “Since losing the Seven Hidden Mines, we’ve had no way of mining prismatic ores ourselves. And with our NPC cap nearing, it wouldn't be worth investing the two hundred and fifty levels we have left in more level sixty Homunculi, ” Momonga.

“Yeah, I know,” Tabula agreed.

“But I think we can still use this to our advantage,” Momonga began, “I’ll get in contact with the guild leaders of Prismatic Forge and Terracotta. Give them an ultimatum, give us preferred rates to their ores, along with a small monthly amount of prismatic ore for free, or we publish this information on the forums.”

“So blackmail?”

“Yeah, blackmail,” Momonga waved my screen away. “I can't see something like this remaining a secret forever. But until then, we should get all we can out of it from those who feel like it's essential to their guild’s survival.”

“You know, you can be kind of scary sometimes Momonga-san.”

A speech bubble with a embarrassed face popped up, “oh I won't go that far.”

There was a brief silence.

“So, you going to sleep soon?”

Tabula flashed a waving hand bubble, “Just want to put some stuff in the oven before I go, you?”

“Maybe an hour or so, need to send the messages out before I go,”

My console opened up again, more ores were traded into me and new commands were given.

Transmute [Copper Ore] to [Silver Ore] to [Mithril Ore] to [Celestial Uranium] x 100

“Night Momonga-san,” and with that, my creator vanished.

Momonga regarded me for a moment, watching my hands glow as the transmutation began in earnest. Then he too left the room, though by teleporting rather than logging off.

I was alone. Stuck to perform this task until completion.

Transmuting [Copper Ore] to [Silver Ore]

Please...Make it stop…

--

I raged for quite sometime after the reveal of where I was. Time seemed to blur as my awareness ebbed and flowed. I was only ‘awake’ when I was being used for some task or being edited by one of the guild members, or simply summoned by them for any reason. After a short time away from them, and given nothing active to do, I would ‘sleep’ until the next interaction happened.

In the depths of the unchanging Tomb of Nazarick, all sense of time had vanished as this routine went on.

For a time, I was inconsolable. I went through the stages of grief. Not in any particular order: Denial of my situation. Anger at why it happened to me. Sadness at the futility of it all. Bargaining, with any higher power that would deliver me from this, living, hell. And eventually, acceptance, that I was stuck here. There is only so long a person can repeat in their head “just wake up” before reality sets in.

'Reality? What a joke..'

This was Overlord. The Light Novel/Anime from the ‘real world’ about a gamer otaku who gets transported to a new world with his guild base full of NPCs. They find themselves in a world wholly unprepared for them. And after a series of goofy, from the audience’s perspective, series of events, Ainz embarks on a campaign of world conquest.

It was funny. It was serious. It was entertaining.

And now, it was real.

This was Nazarick, the home base of Ainz Ooal Gown. Ainz is still just ‘plain’ old Momonga, the guildmaster of Ainz Ooal Gown and its Forty other members.

Naturally, I couldn't show any of this. My new form was a puppet on tight strings. I could take no action without prompting from any Player.

I had no control over myself in any way. These, people, had taken everything from me. Knowingly or otherwise. My entire existence was twisted beyond anything I can imagine. I was no longer human. Hell, I was no longer a living being. Just a program. A series of 1s and 0s.

All that being said, there was a single glimmer of hope. The New World. This tomb, and all its inhabitants, would be taken to a new world and given sentience. That was my lifeline if there ever was one.

But seeing as how the whole guild is together now, and that the story began as Ainz, now Momonga, being the last member left, I fear I might have to wait quite some time.

For now, all I could do was wait. Forced into the role of a glorified vending machine.

-

“So that’s why Tabula-san stopped talking to you for a while?”

Create Item [Titan Bane]

“Yeah, he just can't take a joke.”

Create Item [Titan Bane]

“Now that you say it, it does sound kind of silly.”

Create Item [Titan Bane]

“I know right! It's just a throwaway line in Shalltear’s bio. Not like I told him he needed to write the same thing in her bio so they would match.”

Create Item [Titan Bane]

“Well, what did you write exactly? Because I know you have a habit of going a bit...far in your descriptions.”

Item Created [Titan Bane]

“Yeah, I can kind of understand that. But this was different. I mean, I'm not against writing that relationship, I mean, I did give her the brides. But looking at the two of them together I think it would be more wholesome than anything else.”

Item Created [Titan Bane]

“...you didn't answer the question Peroroncino-san. What exactly did you write?”

Item Created [Titan Bane]

“Look, if you must know, I just wrote ‘she wants to make Citrinitas her wife’. I mean, how can that be considered anything other than wholesome I ask you! Yuri love is the purest form of love!”

Item Created [Titan Bane]

Wait….what….

Item Created [Titan Bane]

--

I wonder how long it has been since I was brought here. Time flowed strangely when there were no clocks or indications of date. I saw the numbers of players grow, so I assume we’re still in the heyday of Ainz Ooal Gown. Meaning I’m stuck for quite some time.

I was eventually introduced to the other NPCs.

Saying introduced implies we talked amongst ourselves. No. Not so much a meet and greet, but more of a fashion snow with the NPCs as mannequins. It was a Halloween event. I mean, I assume it was Halloween. There were jack-o-lanterns and skeletons everywhere. Then again, this was a guild who spent all their time playing as ‘the bad guys’.

Right now, all the Players were showing off their NPCs to one another.

There was Touch Me’s Sebas, the calm butler. Ulbert’s Demiurge, the arch devil with a scorpion tail in a striped orange suit. I noticed the young twin dark elves Aura and Mare, both crossdressing. Momonga’s Pandora’s Actor was not here for long, the good natured heckling from his guildmates made him dismiss that NPC rather quickly.

As my creator walked up to Peroroncino and Shalltear, the loli sex vampire. I heard my creator and the birdman talk over the crowd of people.

Tabula saying something along the lines of “you did not” with an accusatory finger point. Birdman for his part was laughing his ass off. Even as the slime that was his sister shoved his arm calling him a ‘pervert’.

As that comedic act was underway, my attention was quickly taken by 'my' sister’s: Albedo, Nigredo, and 'our' newest sister, Rubedo.

Albedo was beautiful. Mesmerizing gold eyes. Long, silky, black hair crowded by white horns. Black feathered wings arched from the base of her back. Blessed with a voluptuous figure, she wore an immaculate white dress. It revealed just enough skin to entice the eye, and left the rest covered yet not beyond the imagination.

Whereas Albedo was beautiful, Nigredo was horrifying. They shared the same hair color, and that was it. Her hair was tangled and messy. Her face seemed to lack a top layer of skin, you could see the muscle and tendons that were normally underneath. Her eyes were a bright blue, not covered by eyelids of any kind. Perfectly straight and white teeth, unobstructed by lips of any kind. Her dress was pitched black.

Rubedo was something almost wholly alien. She had the black hair the other two shared, but the similarities ended there. She didn't even look wholly made of flesh and blood, looking more like an animatronic doll than anything living. Her eyes were a bloody red. Her limbs were spindly and thin, almost like bones with no muscle or flesh attached to them. A carmine red dress clung to her the way clothes cling to an anorexic person. Hands tipped with needle-like appendages. Around her neck was a single medallion, a medical symbol. The one with the two winged serpents coiling around a staff. Overall, she looked like some crazed mannequin more than anything else.

Albedo brought forth lust in men. Nigredo inspired terror in them. Rubedo, brings out either revision or confusion in what they are looking at.

But where was I in all of this? Off to the side, making potions. The Players just kept walking up to me giving me orders to make this potion, that poison, or these flasks. The orders were not given verbally, of course. They just opened up a trade menu, shoved the items into my inventory space, then typed in a command for me to begin crafting.

Like a good puppet, I obeyed.

I actually didn't do anything. Ignoring the whole, no control over my body thing, the actual process of making the stuff they gave me an entirely motionless affair. My arms would just clasp a blue orb in front of me and that would ‘create’ what they wanted. Some took seconds, others minutes. One crazy elixir, Liquid Dragonfire, took ten minutes to make a piece. And I was given a bulk order of a baker's dozen to do!

That player in particular got a bit of blow back for “holding up the que”.

And I did this for a long time.

Potion after potion after potion after potion.

All the while the world seemingly went on around me without a care to my plight.

--

Item Created [Greater Health Potion]

“Did you see the nerf to clerics in the new patch notes?”

Item Created [Greater Health Potion]

“Technically, they only nerfed the Cainable domain. Angelos domain clerics got a boost.”

Item Created [Greater Health Potion]

“Yeah, because no one plays them! Cainable, Wuthrad, and Trinity are only good domains. Shity devs screwed over the druid's last patch, now they moved onto the clerics.”

Item Created [Greater Health Potion]

“Really? I never thought I’d ever hear someone use the words ‘Wuthdrad’ and ‘good’ together. When was the last time you saw someone, unironically, play an Wuthdrad cleric?”

Item Created [Greater Health Potion]

“What do you mean ‘unironic’? Wuthrad is good. It’s good because you could cast spells that had elemental debuffs.”

Item Created [Greater Health Potion]

“So? Angelos lets you cast divine spells with fire debuffs.”

Item Created [Greater Health Potion]

“No, the fire debuffs only apply to undead, demons, and vampires. That's it. Against anything else? Nothing.”

Item Created [Greater Health Potion]

“What about the whole karmic multiplier? With it, Anglos is always at the top of the DPS charts.”

Item Created [Greater Health Potion]

“What charts are you looking at Flatfoot? Sure, go to Swindlers Crossroads or go to Black Stone Castle, and sure you can get high DPS. But we get back to the whole undead, demons, and vampires. Of course you're going to top the charts in those dungeons!”

“Look Luci★Fer-san, you're literally the only person I know who is speced so heavily into Cainable. Most angel players, even fallen, use trinity or anglos.”

“And you apparently have seen the shitshow on the forums where Sperhim is- Wait, I think she’s done with my stuff.”

“Oh, you’re right,” the assassin player noted.

A trade menu opened up, and all of Lucifer’s potions flowed out of my inventory to his. All fifty of them.

“Your turn, Flatfoot.”

“Okay just give me a second,”

Another trade menu opened up. Vast amounts of reagents, ingredients, herbs, and empty phials flooded my inventory. Satisfied, Flatfood opened up his console and queued in a command.

Create [Greater Stamina Potion] x 40

My hands moved on their own, clasping together in front of me, a soft blue light returned into existence.

Item Created [Greater Stamina Potion]

“So you were saying something about the Seraphim on the forums?”

Item Created [Greater Stamina Potion]

“Yeah, they’re pissed! Turns out, this nerf really screwed over Seraphim. More specifically, GoldyLocks.”

Item Created [Greater Stamina Potion]

“Heh, looks like what comes around goes around! Remember how annoying he was after Ascension was released?”

Item Created [Greater Stamina Potion]

--

Never in my life had I considered what it would be like to live as a doll. Something to be used and manipulated without the consent of the thing in question.

But it was okay. Because my “creator” gave me my own bedroom and an alchemy chamber on the ninth floor.

A doll house for a doll.

He stocked my lab with all the essentials Nazarick’s grand alchemist would need. Tools. Large bookshelves filled to the brim with all matter of alchemic books and scrolls. Phials of rare substances. Ingredients from all across Yggdrasil. Plants in a small greenhouse that was kept warm by a floating orb of sunlight. A walk-in vault filled to the brim with volatile concoctions and poisons. Storage space in the form of enchanted chests for bulk amounts of produced items. He even provided me with a staff of a couple dozen homunculi for me to ‘order’ around. All dressed in aprons and lab gear.

Of course, all of these things were all just props. I was unable to move under my own power, what the hell was a bookshelf going to be used for? The phials? I didn't need them, the Guild Members just handed things to me and ‘I’ did the rest. Ingredients and plants? Again, they just handed me what I needed to make the stuff they wanted. The vault? Window dressing. Along with the chests for storage. And my staff? All those things did was just stand there, staring blankly in the distance. Okay, sure, sometimes Tabula posed them for pictures with me, but that hardly counts as independent action.

They didn't even have the levels necessary to do what I could do. What was the point in them?

Actually, I take that back. They do technically do things. They move around and interact with the environment. Pick up a book here. Pretend to look at something there. Pre Programmed movements to give the appearance of life when in reality they were just running on pre planned tracks. On some occasions I saw them even walk up to each other to make it look like they were talking with one another. They didn't. Just stood there in pre created poses for a few minutes, staring unblinking at each other, then walked off as their script told them to.

Even I had one for a time! I actually had a few. In one, I would gather my researchers together for a discussion near a chalkboard with a bunch of pentagrams on it. In another, I walked across the laboratory to check on my underlings newest findings. Funnily enough, I actually enjoyed this, to an extent. Better than just standing around doing nothing. But Tabula my scripts off when some Players complained that the movements disrupted their potion ques and having to start over from the beginning of that items creation timer. Even if it had only one second left.

I’ll admit, I took a bit of joy in that. Oh, making me work for half an hour on your Superior Hearthstone? You're in a rush and need it now for your raid? Sorry sir, in the last three seconds of the crafting process I realized I needed to walk across the room. No need to worry sir, we can start from the beginning again.

For the third time.

"Shitty devs" indeed.

But what dollhouse is complete without a bedroom. Mine was connected directly to the lab. It was less a bedroom and more of a gothic Victorian study filled with all manners of occult artifacts that just happened to have a bed in the corner.

Again just another set of props for me to stand around and look pretty. Fine looking Victorian styled props, but that's all they were; props. A bed I could never sleep in. A closet filled with gothic outfits I could never change in or out of under my own power. A bookshelf with texts I physically cannot pick up, let alone read. Sofas, chairs, and a table around a fireplace, that, again, I can never use. A old looking piano and violet to the end that I could not play. Even had an old fashioned record player that had some ominous sounding classical music on constant loop.

And the junk he filled it with! He set about filling my room with all sorts of useless stuff. Tons of display cases with all sorts of odds and ends in them. Old looking books. Weathered scrolls. Daggers. A skull with a glowing pentagram. All these things ‘radiated’ with ‘power’.

In truth, I'm pretty sure that these were junk items he altered cosmetically to give off that occult feel.

And for all that effort Tabula put into it, I almost never set foot in there because I seemingly spent all my time in the lab just making stuff for everyone else!

Come to think about it, how would that room work anyway with a fireplace with no chimney for smoke to flow out of? Wouldn't that suffocate anyone after a certain period of time.

…

How long have I been here again?

--

Item Created [Ambrosia]

Item Created [Ambrosia]

Item Created [Ambrosia]

Item Created [Ambrosia]

Item Created [Ambrosia]

Item Created [Ambrosia]

“So Blue Planet-san....how was that date?”

Item Created [Ambrosia]

Item Created [Ambrosia]

Item Created [Ambrosia]

Item Created [Ambrosia]

Item Created [Ambrosia]

Item Created [Ambrosia]

“Oh, that bad?”

Item Created [Ambrosia]

Item Created [Ambrosia]

Item Created [Ambrosia]

Item Created [Ambrosia]

Item Created [Ambrosia]

Item Created [Ambrosia]

“You want to talk about-”

“I’d rather not.”

Create Item [Elixir of Magic] x 20

Item Created [Elixir of Magic]

--

I think Ainz Ooal Gown is in decline now.

Some of my regulars have stopped showing up. Whiterim. Bellriver. Even a few people whose names I don't remember. They are distinctive enough, physically I mean. But I’ve just been tuning out at times. Why bother paying attention when your body is on autopilot?

Technically, I don't have a frame of reference to the passage of time, given the whole lack of awareness when no one is around. For all I know, weeks or months pass between the times I am aware. Personally, I doubt that. One time, a group of Players led by Momonga came in to get some potions, powerful fire resistance boosters, then after they left, they reappeared seconds talking about what they learned about using said boosters ‘last night’.

So yeah, I’m pretty sure they are coming on a semi-regular basis at the worst.

It's not a ghost town yet. There are still at least thirty or so people coming in a good amount of the time.

I honestly couldn't be happier! The fewer people that are left in the guild, it gives me an indication on how soon my own freedom will be at hand. I mean, I hope I gain my freedom. Not in the ‘worship the ground the supreme beings walk on’ way. But me being in full control. Having both my mind and body as my own again!

Only time can tell.

--

Item Created [Fire Flask]

Item Created [Fire Flask]

Item Created [Fire Flask]

Item Created [Fire Flask]

Item Created [Fire Flask]

Create Item [Ice Flask] x 5

Item Created [Ice Flask]

Item Created [Ice Flask]

Item Created [Ice Flask]

Item Created [Ice Flask]

Item Created [Ice Flask]

“....is there even a point in prepping if no one is going to show up?”

Create Item [Dragon’s Blood] x 5

Item Created [Dragon’s Blood]

“...maybe this time.”

Item Created [Dragon’s Blood]

--

I think the end is nigh.

For some time now, I've only seen Momonga. Even Tabula stopped showing up. It was just Momonga now. He came into my lab alone. He’d give me orders, complain to himself that no one is going to show up so why bother? Then argue with himself that if someone did show up, he ought to have everything ready. Just in case.

Then he'd walk out.

And he did this over and over and over again.

I think time is passing far faster than it was before; from my perspective at least. With less people using my ‘services’ it means more time ‘asleep’ and the quicker time passes. And the fast time passes, the faster I can get control of my body again.

Honestly, I have to admit, I kind of feel bad for the guy. From what little he mumbled about his real life, it sounded horrible.

He would talk about acid rains melting through his apartment’s power lines. About how feeling lucky he got a pay raise to afford ‘synth meat’ for dinner. How he was forced to work unpaid overtime, but was glad he wasn't fired right afterwards. Rampant corruption in the corporate security forces. An ongoing corporate war between a pair of neighboring arcologies that resulted in actual bombings of civilian targets; thankfully that one ended because said bombing hit the property of a larger arcology who forced a cease fire. Eco terrorists bombing a gene clinic no less than a few minutes walk from his workplace. Lamenting having to change out his apartment’s air filter again because they burned out too quick this time. And so on.

Like, holy shit! The real world sounded hellish. No wonder why people used what little money they had to get into virtual reality games.

Still, cant wait until the I get my body back.

Just a little while longer.

--

Item Created [Greater Potion of Invisibility]

Item Created [Greater Potion of Invisibility]

Item Created [Greater Potion of Invisibility]

As the last potion finished, Momonga swiftly took it from my inventory. Unlike every other time, he didn't leave immediately. Instead, le looked around the lab. At the NPC’s going about their pre programmed routines. He looked at them quite longingly.

After a minute, he shook his head obviously conversing with himself, “No, need to get ready for them. Even if only a few come, everything needs to be perfect. For the last day.”

Wait, did he say...last day?

Is it time…..!

Will I finally be free?

I mean its been quite a while since anyone other than Momonga showed up, but I didn't think it was that quick. Maybe its my sense of time fucking with me again. For the first time in so long, I felt something. Anticipation. Hope. Giddiness. I swear, if I wasn't being forced to stand still, I'd be shaking with pure joy!

He regarded me for a moment. Hesitant for a moment, a console opened up.

“Unlike the real world, you should at least have the decency to pass on in your own room. Not on a factory line,” the guild master input a new set of orders.

Before he even dismissed the console, I was moving. I turned my back to him and walked, rather marched, to my room. Vaguely aware that the lich had teleported out of the lab behind me. The door to my room opened with prompting, and shut just as quickly when I crossed the threshold.

So I stood there.

Alone, I waited.

And waited.

And waited.

….

And waited

How long was this going to take?

….

….

Soft music was playing in the background.

….

Shouldn’t I just be rendered unaware until the whole transition happens?

I sighed.

If I was going to be forced to stand in an empty room for a whole day until midnight. I might just throw a fit. I-

My mind grinded to a screeching halt.

I was...breathing.

Did it….happen already?

Was I...Free?

I could feel my muscles flex and tense as I stood.

'My' fingers twitched.

I was shaking.

I was shaking!

Tepidly, I craned my neck down. I stared at 'my' shaking hands.

My breathing picked up.

My vision became blurred as tears welled in my eyes.

I collapsed onto my knees. Emotions overwhelmed me. Tears ran along my face, dripping onto the floor. I could do little to hold in my ugly crying. All the emotions that had been bottled up over my time here. All the isolation. All the grief. All the anger. Desperation. Fear. Everything. It all flooded out at once.

Even the feeling of crying made me weep more. I had lost so much…

In some analytical part of my head, I knew I should be thinking of my next steps now that I was free of those accused puppet strings. That the NPC’s, presumably alive as well, in the rooms and hallways around my room might hear me and come to see why I was in such a state. That I need to plan and prepare myself for the struggles ahead. It questioned why I was feeling so much emotion, this wasn't even my body.

But that coldblooded part of my psyche was overwhelmed by the sheer deluge of emotions I felt flooding my mind.

Now was the time to vent my emotions after enduring a seemingly endless time of powerlessness. To get it all out of my system. To be prepared for the challenges ahead.

Plans and preparations can wait.

--

My first act of freedom, after so many years trapped in my own body, was to curl up onto my bed and vent into a pillow.

Ughh. Simply feeling something as soft as a pillow again was enough to put me over the moon. While I still had my five senses working, how can one really take advantage of them when you are a prisoner in your own body.

Or, in this case, a foreign body.

After an hour, maybe two, I finally pulled myself back together. As best I could anyway. While the rush of emotions was still there, I was able to rein in some manner of control over myself.

Myself? What a joke…

Uncurling myself, I slid myself to the far side of the bed and picked up a small mirror. It's funny. I can remember the day Tabula put this in my room. A part of me never thought I'd actually touch anything in this room. That when the transition happened I might just be obliterated, my personality overridden by whatever bio Tabula wrote, or even worse, I’d remain a prisoner, but this time in the real Cintrinitas’s body.

I shuddered at the thought of it.

Curious of my surroundings, I explored the room. While I had known this room well for years, it is one thing to simply ‘see’ the room. It is another to be ‘in’ said room.

Specifically, I wanted to know what all these books, scrolls, papers, and relic things actually were.

I scan across my desk at the back of the room, rifling through the papers and books on it. The title of the few I glimpsed were beyond ominous.

“A Treatise on the Higher Mysteries”

“Crafting Life from the Void”

“The Soul, Clay of Creation”

“The Undead, and the Living Dead”

“Golomancy, a Primer”

“Elixir of Nothingness”

“Principles of Chaos Magic”

A quick scan of the contents show they were actually all unique. Each one was different. They were not just books and for fluff’s sake.

Drifting across the room, I made my way to the display cases. I wanted to see, exactly, what was in them. Naturally, I knew what was in them, but not what they were exactly. Thankfully for me, each case was labeled for convenience. So that was lucky!

Though, they seemed even more ominous than the contents of the desk, despite the fact that a few cases contained books themselves.

“The Words of Aiwass”

“The Book of Laws”

“Ipsissimus’s Decrees”

“Magnum Opus”

I had no clue about the first three, but Magnum Opus was something I did know. Its basically the process to create a philosopher's stone. I knew that from all the time Tabula would talk about it to his friends.

Though, I had no idea what the other three were.

Any further examination was halted by a soft series of knocks on my door.

I froze, the mirror falling out of my hands onto the bed. My hair stood up. Blood went cold. I even began to shake. Did they know…. know I don't belong? A cold sweat went down my back.

Another series of knocks, this time slightly louder. More urgent.

How did they know so soon? The transition only occurred an hour ago at most. Was it the system, did it register me as an intruder? Did they come here to see who broke into this room? Was I to be dragged away so soon after becoming real again! To be questioned and beaten into revealing where the real Cintrinitas was? I won't let them take me! I won't! I won't! I-

“My lady,” a soft feminine voice accompanied a third set of knocks. The door cracked open, a woman’s head crept through the opening. One of ‘my’ alchemist homunculi. They all looked the same: bleached white hair, violet eyes, pale skin, wearing the same clothes with a leather apron that had too many pouches.

I’m pretty sure they were all just copy and pasted one after another.

I held down a flinch. Would she suspect that I wasn't the person she was looking for? Did she see Citrinitas, but could tell she was off? Would she turn right around and scream “Intruder”? Or an accusation of who I was in her lady’s room? Was my execution going to occur in this very room? Funny, after so long of just being a prisoner, a quick death doesn't actually faze me all that much. Could she tell me that I wasn't the same as all the other NPCs in Nazarick? Will-

“Pardon the interruption, my Lady,” she apologized softly, a curt bow followed. Her voice was so low that I barely heard it over the music. “Lord Sebas is here to speak with you.”

The blazing fire of paranoia that had come to life just moments ago, that threatened to consume me whole, cooled. It was still there, but more a soft brazier than the roaring hearth it had been.

So, she saw me as Citrinitas, not an intruder?

“Sebas...the butler,” the words slipped from my lips before I even registered it. The voice that came forth sounded wrong. Despite being the first time I was speaking in years, my throat did not feel off.

“Yes my Lady,” she replied, looking me in the eyes. “He says that it’s an important matter that concerns the whole of Nazarick.”

Fuck I do not need this!

But if I send her away, that could be suspicious. Fuck!

I took a seat at my desk, and pulled over the top book of the pile. Opening it to a random page.

“S-send-'' I cleared my throat, damn weird to hear ‘my’ voice. “Send him in.”

“Of course my lady,” she opened the door fully and stepped to the side. “She will see you now, Lord Sebas.”

The door opened fully.

With precise steps, Sebas Tian entered the chamber.

He looked just as he had the first time I ‘saw’ him. Sharp features. Greying hair. Crisp black suit. Eyes akin to a bird of prey. Despite his gentile, human, appearance, this man was as inhuman as I was. Whereas I was a homunculus, he was a dragonoid. Dragonoids possess the characteristics of a dragon, can change into a dragon like form, share many weaknesses and strengths of dragons, but are of course not anything like dragons. I metnally roll my eyes at the devs mental gymnastics.

The alchemist shut the door behind him, yet she remained in the room. Her posture was demure. Not in the sense of submission, but as a sign of deference. Whether it was to Sebas or me, I couldn't tell.

Sebas looked around my room, taking in the features, before turning his gaze to me. I felt like a small rodent before his piercing eyes. It felt like he was analyzing everything about me. Looking for the slightest indication that something was off.

I must have ‘passed’ whatever he was looking for, because he nodded to me.

“Thank you for seeing me on such short notice, Lady Citrinitas,”

“It’s nothing,” I waved off his reply, “Is this about what happened to the Tomb?”

“You know what happened?” he questioned.

Fuck! What I just said sounds suspicious as hell. Quick! Need to think of something!

“Not necessarily,” I look down at the papers. Pretending to be looking thorough them. My voice was far calmer that it had any right to be. “I only know something happened. What that ‘something’ is, I can’t say.”

The butler mulled my words over, “it is as you say, something did indeed happen. The environment just beyond the Tomb has changed. Instead of the marshes of Helheim, the Tomb is now surrounded by a verdant forest. Additionally, scouts have confirmed that all known landmarks noted on maps have similarly vanished.”

I shuffled papers around, desperate to appear in ‘deep thought’. Truthfully, I don't want to look him in the eyes just yet.

“Are you saying the Tomb has been teleported?”

Sebas nodded, “that is the theory put forth by Lord Momonga. His lordship believes that we may be in a new world. A place beyond the realms of Yggdrasil.”

“Lord Momonga-'' right, he hasn't changed his name yet. When does that happen anyways? I know it's soon after arriving in this world, just not the exact time.

“Is fine,” Sebas clearly thought I was implying something else. “He was in the throne room with myself, the Pleiades, and the Overseer when it happened.”

Overseer...Albedo. My sister. The trigger happy, crazy yandere who's obsessed with lusting over a lich who is physically incapable of feeling lust or any extreme emotions. Oh boy. Another thing to worry about.

This conversation is starting to get awkward, I just want this guy gone.

“Forgive me for being brusque, but why are you here?”

If Sebas was offended by my curtness, he certainly didn't show it, “ Lady Albedo has called for an inventory check of all of Nazarick’s stores.”

“Are you assuming something is missing from my lab,” I asked.

“No,” he said that a little too quickly for my liking. “Given the extraordinary circumstances, it would not be impossible for whatever force transported the Tomb to have also pilfered our stores. With a force capable of bypassing the defenses crafted by the Supreme Beings themselves, nothing should be assumed.”

I guess that makes sense.

Of course I knew what had happened, in broad strokes. But I knew enough to be confident that everything in the Tomb was fine.

If it will get him out of here.

“I’ll perform a full inspection of our stores and have it all written up in an hour,” I told him. “You can pick up the report form one of the alchemists when it’s done for you to pick up.”

“Very good Lady Citrinitas,” he accepted. “Now if you will excuse me, I have other matter to attend to. I will return for the report within the hour.”

A curt bow later, and he was out the door. The alchemist followed him.

I reclined in my chair, swearing to myself. How the fuck am I suppose to do this?

Waiting a good, five minutes to gather my thoughts, I walked out onto the lab floor.

The lab was just like it had always been. Or, more accurately, this is the lab that Tabula would have wanted. Gone were the stiff motions of preset paths. Gone were the lifeless faces that just started into nothingness. Gone was the sense that this was just a prop to pose NPCs against for pictures or role playing purposes. This was a lab!

While there had been a calm activity as I walked in, it died down as the homunculi took note of my entrance. Conversations stopped. Co-workers nudged their compatriots to pay attention to me. Reading of books and other texts ended with alchemists noting their places before turning their attention to me.

The one fact that creeped me out about the situation was the uniformity of the homunculi. As in, they all looked the same physically. Same length bleach white hair. Same violet eyes. Skin pale from lack of sunlight. Even facial features and height were identical across the board. Sure, a handful were dressed differently; a pair of gardeners, a clerk, a trio of plague doctors. But overall, they seemed like they had been copied and pasted over one another.

“My lady,” the closest alchemist spoke up, “has something happened?”

“Lord Sebas seemed to be in quite the rush,” another added.

“Are we preparing for a new project,” a third thought aloud.

They didn't just look the same, they sounded the damn same!

More questions followed. They circled me like I was the eye of a hurricane. Or a more apt term would be like those little fish that cling to sharks. They didn't ask anything too intrusive or prodding, but it was a little unsettling being the center of attention.

I just needed to get this out of the way. Getting them doing the job that I already know would be an open and close thing. Thankfully, none of them seem to think that anything is out of the ordinary. I mean as far as I, Citrinitas, am anyway. They knew something was up the moment Sebas walked in for a meeting with me.

Now, would Citrinitas talk to her underlings. Ughhh. I feel like kicking myself for not listening to Tabula go on and on with the other Players about my backstory. To be fair to myself, I did gather the gist of it; amoral homunculi scientist who pushes ethical and moral boundaries. But knowing Tabula, he would have put way more intricate background information about the subtlest of nuances. Her favorite books. What she liked to eat. Favorite color.

He was a bit obsessive about every little detail. I tried to listen, but when he goes into a two hour long discussion with other players about the tiniest fucking details, I just began to tune him out.

Fuck that was a bad move in hindsight.

All I had to work with now was my own interpretation of how an amoral occultist would act. If I act too nice, they’ll think something is wrong with their ‘lady’. But if I act too amoral or treat them badly, they might hate me. And unlike a certain walking sack of bones, these girls obviously don't worship the ground I walk on given how casual they are with me.

I loudly cleared my throat and raised a hand to silence them.

Time to fake it till I make it.

“A full inventory check has been ordered,” I began, my calm voice echoed across the lab. It was hard keeping my reaction to my own voice internalized. Damn, this is going to take some getting used to. Assuming I can't find a way to change my body.

“A check, my Lady?” One asked.

“Yes, a full check. The entire Tomb of Nazarick has been transported by unknown means to a whole new world,” A couple of gasps in the crowd. They looked around each other's reaction, clinging to my every word.

“And Lord Momonga…”

“He is safe and still present in the Tomb,” sighs of relief all around.

So far so good.

“Due to this extraordinary occurrence, we have been asked to check that none of our stored items have been taken. Every potion, every phial, every herb, every oil, every poison, everything is to be accounted for.” Before I had even finished, the homunculi began scurrying off in every direction.

Where before there had been calm, now a flurry of activity. Some rushed to the greenhouse, inspecting each row or rare herbs. Others made their way down to the store room, a vast cellar complex containing the vast majority of the lab’s output. A handful, the trio dressed as pseudo-plague doctors, beaky masks and all, rushed over to the door of ‘the Vault’; a small room containing the rarest alchemical items in the Tomb. These included potions/oils/poisons that can only be found from enemy ‘drops’, and not crafted in any way, or things that took way too long to craft and needed to be stored for a long time.

But instead of checking the Vault, said beaked homunculi stood there looking at me.

Why are they just standing there?

Wait!

That's right. I remember Tabula saying something along the line of “only the mistress of the lab has the ability to grant access to the Vault”. Naturally, it was a bit more long winded then that. Going on for paragraphs if I remember one of the Players talking about it right.

But I don’t know how to open that thing! That was just flavor text! Players that needed anything just opened it and walked on in!

They kept looking at me.

Waiting.

Fuck.

I approached the large metal door, closer to the door of a bank vault than a ‘door’. The metal was not some ordinary, run of the mill metal like mythril. Oh no. For the door containing the most valuable alchemical goodies in all of Nazarick, you go big or go home. It was made, entirely, out of prismatic ore; Star Silver to be precise. This door was a flat slab of prismatic metal. Nothing to grab hold of. Nothing to put a key in or even a code. Hell, not even a handle to pull on.

‘Maybe it's unlocked,’ I mused. It's technically never been sealed. Players came and went whenever they wanted. So maybe all that stuff was just flavor text and all I have to do is just pull it open. Maybe just grab onto the edge and pull? Just have to find a good angle to-

As my fingers touched the metal, I heard a series of metallic clicks. The door vibrates softly as small thuds follow suit. Like metal locking into position. Or pistons being retraced. The sigil of Ainz Ooal Gown flared across the flat surface.

Oh you've got to be kidding me...just touching it was enough for it to open! What the hell is the point in a door if you just touch it and bam open sesame!

More gears turned. Clicks. Banging. A hiss of cold air. The door slowly opened.

I stepped to the side, watching dumbstruck as the meter thick door swung open. I noticed another meter thick door of star silver swinging open inwards on the inside of the vault. Looking down at the threshold, I found empty grooves meant to have metal slide in.

This thing was a bank vault door!

The homunculi rushed in to take stock.

Meanwhile, I found a lone chair to take a seat in. Releasing the breath I didnt even notice I was holding in. I nursed the growing headache. Keeping up appearances was harder than I thought. While it was beyond euphoric to move on my own again, to talk again, the fact I had to play a role I had no idea about was less than ideal.

I was so wrapped up in my own thoughts that I didn't even register each group of alchemists to come back and hand me their reports. Naturally, everything was accounted for.

With everything sorted out, I made my way back to my room.

“My Lady?”

Fuck….

I turned around, one foot in the bedroom.

“Is there anything else you require,” one of the homunculi asked.

Please fuck off, is what I wanted to say.

“No, return to your work. I must return to my… studies,” that sounded about right for an amoral occultist. “Please do not disturb me unless it is something important.”

I closed the door behind me before I even heard their reply.

Turning the music back on, I threw myself onto the bed; snuggling into the sheets. I had no intention of leaving this room anytime soon. Nope. It might not have been my room, but I shall make this room my personal sanctuary from the insanity that is Nazarick.

I wonder how long it will be before I get hungry....

---
---

“....and Mare has completed concealing the entrance to Nazarick.”

Albedo nodded at Sebas’s report, making a note to congratulate the young Guardian when she had the time for his ingenuity.

In the time since Nazarick had been brought to.. Whatever this world was, she had found herself busier than she had ever been. Files needed organizing. Supplies accounted for. Forces placed at combat readiness. Useless maps being put in storage, replaced with new ones being drawn up from early scouting reports.

Sadly, she couldn't use her office like she wanted. The place was dusty and unorganized from lack of use. She had tasked the maids to clean it up as quickly as possible. In the meantime, she had requisitioned the use of one of the guest rooms as an interim office. Papers and ledgers with nowhere to go laid scattered about in a scene of controlled chaos.

“Good,” Albedo opened up another ledger, “what about our supplies? Did we lose anything in the transition.”

Sebas handed her a collection of papers, “Nothing of note. Sous Chef is complaining about a lack of certain, rare, ingredients; but he insists that this has been an issue for a time before the teleportation event. All other stores, weapons, armor, food stuffs, medicine, precious metals, and alchemical products are all accounted for.”

Albedo perked up at the mention of alchemical products. That was the domain of the Area Guardian of the Alchemical laboratory; her sister Citrinitas.

How long has it been since she’s seen Citrinitas? Years? Hard to say. The last time they were together was when Lord Tabula brought them together for a meeting with the other Supreme Beings.

Albedo remembers standing next to Lord Tabula alongside Nigedo. A few of the other guardians were there as well with their respective creators; Demiurge, Aura, and Mare. Citrinitas, by contrast, was tending to the personal requests of the Supreme Ones, preparing final alchemical creations for a “Raid”. Who they were attacking, she was unsure about. But they did achieve victory against their foes; in no small part to her sister’s potions. She remembers the pride that swelled in her heart at the knowledge of her sister’s pivotal role in their victory.

Albedo smiles at the memory of better times.

Every family has their favorite, and her’s was no exception. Lord Tabula may have never said it openly, but he favored Citrinitas over his other creations. That is not to say he did not gift them all with gifts of unparalleled power and prestige, but it was obvious who he favored.

For example, Citrinitas’s quarters were opulent for an Area Guardian.

No, it was opulent for any servant of the Supreme Beings. Even her own chambers, the chambers of the Overseer of all Nazarick, were spartan in comparison. All of the things Citrinitas’s chambers held: the books, artifacts, the weapons, manuscripts, the luxury of it all. All of it were signs of preference from the Supreme Ones.

She wasn't jealous of her sister. Far from it, she was proud of her sister so treasured by the Supreme Beings and that her sister worked so diligently in turn. It was something all the servants of Nazarick aspired for; to be of use.

But for all the gifts they lauded on her, for all the favor they showed, she was abandoned just like the rest of the servants of the Tomb. All of them abandoned Nazarick. Without cause or reason they left. Only Lord Momonga stayed. Only he truly cares about them.

Albedo pushed such negative thoughts from her mind. There was no use dwelling on the past. She just knew, things will be better now. A new world. A new, fresh start.

However, all this did bring up a question of how her sister was faring. For the longest time her sister has secluded herself up in her lab and study. She only regularly met with either her staff or Lord Momonga himself. Perhaps the abrupt abandonment of the Supreme Ones affected her more strongly than others.

“Sebas,” Albedo regarded the stalwart butler. She put her work down, looking for the right words, “how was Citrinitas? Was she..well?”

“She appeared so, yes,” Sebas replied.

‘Appeared?’ She bit the inside of her lip. “What do you think?”

The butler was quite for a moment, “I don’t believe it’s my place to make assumptions on others behalf. Lady Citrinitas is as concise and diligent in her work as can be asked for by any servant of the Supreme Beings.”

While she felt a flutter of pride for her sister’s work ethic, the lack of a proper response to what she asked only made her more concerned for younger sister’s wellbeing.

“Sebas,” she began again, wringing her fingers, “I’m not asking you as the Overseer of Nazarick, but as an older sister who wants to know how her little sister is doing. It's been some time since I've had the chance to see her. Please...”

He was quiet for another moment, “If I am to give my honest opinion, I would say that Lady Citrinitas is out of sorts.”

“Out of sorts?” she repeated.

Sebas nodded, “yes. While she put on the appearance of normality, and still carries out her work to the best of her abilities, there were a few things that stood out to me.”

“Such as,” Albedo pushed him.

“I would call it more of an aura, an amalgamation of many smaller things” Sebas continued. “ Her mind seemed to wander a bit during our conversation. Not fully focusing on the subject at hand. Later, one of her alchemists confided in me that Citrinitas has been in this state for some time. She retreats into her study and will not leave for days at a time. Only the presence of Lord Momonga is sufficient enough to rouse her attention away from whatever it is she is working on.”

Albedo mulled over Sebas’s statement. If she were to speculate, based on what Sebas told her, it sounds like her little sister is in a state of depression. Citrinitas’s reclusiveness could be a coping mechanism to deal with the depression caused by the collective abandonment by the Supreme Beings; excluding Lord Momonga. Throwing herself into her research as a way to fill a void left by those who abandoned them.

She swore at herself. How had she not seen it? Was she so blinded by her own work that she never once took into account her own sister’s state of mind after all this time? Naturally, her duties as Overseer will always come first, but Albedo knew for a fact she had many spaces of free time over the years. Ample enough time to simply visit her sister! Something as simple as lunch if nothing else.

Albedo sighed. It appears she has yet another thing to be forever grateful to Lord Momonga for, caring for her sister when she failed to.

“Thank you, Sebas, for telling me this,” she thanked him.

He gave her a curt bow, “it is of no concern Lady Albedo.”

“No,” she pushed away his humbleness, “thank you.”

“I understand,” he told her. “Is there anything else you require of me at this time?”

“Not at the moment, no.”

“Then I shall take my leave and return to Lord Momonga’s side,” Sebas gave another curt bow before leaving the room.

Before returning to work Albedo made a note that once everything has settled down, when she finally has some more free time, she will visit her sister. It may be nothing more than a simple conversation. Just something to let her sister know that she did not abandon her.

Smiling, she returned to her work; hopeful of what the future might bring to all of Nazarick in this New World.

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