Hydapset or as his creators referred to him, K-4-119-1355, descended upon this plane of existence twelve years prior as a soul seed, sent to this world at the behest of the esteemed Immortals, Ancient Guardians of the Multiverse, to counteract the influence of the Fallen Sun Empire, an authoritarian regime hell bent on the conquest of the free multiverse.

It was his burden to bear, a most holy mission. He took great pride in it. All that he had endured, all the pain and suffering, if he succeeded, would be more than worth it.

Unfortunately, this wasn't a world of science. Lovely, logical, stable science. How he missed it. His mission is Zelegian, a realm of technology, the polar opposite of this one was most fulfilling. A job on an exploratory vessel, probing the depths of the stars. He had even had a family, a wife, two daughters. Almost made him consider abandoning his mission. Thankfully, he hadn't. He didn't know how he'd have ever forgiven himself if he'd chosen to.

Then there was his mission.

A mission he had undertaken a dozen times before. A mission he was sure he would accomplish. A mission he was sorely failing at.

When he had first possessed the body of this child he imagined it would go quite similar to a dozen other missions he had. He would gather power, activate the appropriate locator technique and wipe out the opposing agents. Easy peasy lemon squeezy.

On this world though, that had proved to be ....difficult.

For one the parent's of this child were more alarmed than delighted when he displayed a great intellect at the age of two. They suspected him, almost immediately of demonic possession. A bit off but not entirely untrue.

He had tried to assuage their fears, only to face greater suspicion. It annoyed him. Very much so. In all his years, he had never seen such unreasonable people. Who doesn't rejoice in their child's antics and growth?

Thankfully, he had heard of such cases from others like him.

The day they attempted to kill him wouldn't be far. And he was prepared.

Hydapset snuck out of the home that night and took off into wide unknown.

Now, freshly homeless at the age of three, living on the streets, he earned a living through pickpocketing and stealing. But Hydapset believed it would only be a stopgap measure. That he would soon accrue enough power and be out of this cursed land.

Therein lay the second problem. The magic system of this world happened to be far more complex than he had anticipated. It wasn't as simple as take in energy or harness power through technology. Oh no no. That would have been a boon.

Here, there were no less than 18 different magic systems, perhaps more, each with their own unique flavour of bullshit. Some were even restricted by species or bloodline.

Imagine that!

He had thought he couldn't hate this world anymore, but what do you know.

Was this world particularly absurd or had his other missions been too easy?Over half of them had been on worlds dominated by technology and science, so that might very well have been the case.

But magic? Magic was so much more difficult. Annoyingly so. I suppose that is why these people called it the arcane arts.

And that brings us here. The Dark Heart Institute. A small magisterium on the Dasern continent. One so insignificant, it barely showed up on the maps. One whose decline was so far in it's past that it may as well have been prehistory. One so desperate for students that it would take in an orphaned street rat without question.

And in he went. Slowly rising up the ranks of the magi, one rung at a time, making sure not to make any waves. Hidden, unseen, unknown. Or that was the plan originally. But as Hydapset soon realized, there was a reason why the Dark Heart Institute was the way it was. They had next to no resources to foster a new generation of magi.

That he had reached the level of a peak rank 1 acolyte at the age of 12 was testament to his effort. A herculean one at that.

Then everything changed in one fell swoop on that fateful day.

On a routine mission to clear the residual radiation, near the northeastern coast of Lapahn, the small barren territories that the Dark Heart Institute controlled, he spotted it. A distress signal. One from an official magus. That meant either an injured or even near death magus. This could very well turn out to be wildly profitable. Thought Hydapset.

But he wanted to be sure. Absolutely sure. After all, this could very well be a trap by some dark magus to use to lure innocent acolytes and harvest their souls. God knows there are more than enough of those around here.

Hydapset observed for a moment and checked for any other magic signatures in the region.

None.

So this was likely not a trap.

But he wasn't anything if not careful. He hadn't survived his interdimensional carousels by jumping in headfirst.

He would need to prepare.

Following the signal, led him to the edge of the coast.

The signal came from further north yet.

"The sea?" He muttered.

No. Not the sea.

He grabbed his tunic, crouching low.

"Sfera Acur Vet!"

The runes on his tunic lit up for a moment, his clothes aflutter, Hydapset jumped with all his strength, just as the spell materialized, reducing his weight and floating him up high.

Hydapset scanned the horizon with great urgency. As a rank 1 acolyte he could just about cast one spell before his magic was exhausted.

To the northwest of his location, Hydapset spotted a small islet in the far distance.

That's the one. He thought.

Looking across the beach, he found a small fishing village about a third of a mile away. That's transportation taken care.

Done, he floated down, just as the spell wore off.

All that was left now was to prep.

He walked onto the road and made his way back to Lapahn city. Hailing a nearby farmer, he flashed his insignia.  "You headed to Lapahn?"

"Why yes m'lord. May I offer you a ride back?" The farmer responded, bowing in respect. Being a part of the ruling academia certainly wasn't without perks. That was another oddity. After the fall of the Temurg Dynasty, the revolution opposing the authoritarian regime didn't fall back into the same pattern of monarchic heirarchy. Neither did it lead to the formation of a republic.

Instead they split into city states and territorial conglomerates under the lead of academies and cooperative unions. A meritocratic technocracy. Decentralized. Free.

Hydapset supposed when people didn't fear death as much as enslavement by oppressive governments or the collective delusions of the masses, the desire for power died out in favor of academic fervor.

That didn't mean the world was a utopia by any means. The rich grew richer and the poor got poorer. That seemed to almost be a law of multiverse. But at least here everyone had a fair bite at the pie in the sky, that is to say, little to none.

What little they got was used to get more to then extend their livespans in pursuit of the truth of the world. The fundamental value set of the magus world. Truth and freedom. Logic and reason.

There was still infighting. He had seen it, felt it, perpetrated it even.

But it all seemed to be worth it to these people.

After all, while there were still wars, they didn't start out of a desire for conquest but out of a desire for resources and optimization. A sophisticated culling of the herd to even out the playing field, free up resources.

Not that that made it any better. Or that he approved of it. But it wasn't his place to either.

The Immortals, hallowed be their name, prioritized the free will of their subjects over all else. Even if that meant the freedom to kill themselves or destroy their own worlds. And who was he to question their transcendental machinations? He trusted in their wisdom, if it could even be called that, what with them being more existence than creature. All he had to do was follow orders, and he knew that all would be well.

A day later, Hydapset was back at the institute.

He pulled no stops, spared no expenses. It was time to go all in.

He entered the institute's marketplace, searching. Last week he was sure he had spotted someone selling a couple of Randall's Bursting Flame potions. He was hoping they would be here today as well. As he browsed the many stalls, booths and mats spread out across the market square, Hydapset spotted a piece of an ancient vase.

"Where did you get this?" He asked, picking up and examining the piece. It had the markings of ancient runes converging in the rough shape of a hand, though only a part of it showed on the fragment. The Hand of Femke. The sacred order that had guarded this realm from demonic incursions since time immemorial. The same organization that would hunt him down to the ends of the earth if they realized that he was a foreign being in possession of the body of a native resident of the world.

Perhaps he could use it to mask my true identity from the zealots. Or maybe this purchase would be a waste of my already meagre wealth.

Eventually, he decided to just buy it. Even if he couldn't make anything of it, he could still sell it to someone who knew about it's true value later on.

"I found it in an abandoned villa outside Metelasine city, while exorcising some spirits. 30 magic crystals and it's yours." Said the man.

"30? It's a broken vase fragment with barely any energy in it. I'll pay you 10 magic crystals and only if you include that dagger over there and that there cat portrait with it."

"That's too much! Why don't you just rob me blind? 17 magic crystals. No less!" The

"15. Take it or leave it." Hydapset offered.

"Fine. But only with the dagger." He replied.

"Deal!" said Hydapset, stuffing the dagger and fragment into his bag.

"Say, do you know where I could get some shield scrolls?" He asked.

"Yeah. Hugh over there had one last I knew." The man said pointing to lanky boy with wild blond hair.

Hydapset walked across the square to Hugh and knelt beside his mat.

"I hear you have a shield scroll?" He asked.

"Yes. What of it?" Hugh replied.

"What would it take for you to part with it?"

"A life threatening encounter, I would hope."

Hydapset sighed. Everyone's a smartass today huh?

"Just tell me how much you want for it."

He raised two fingers.

"Twenty magic crystals?" Hydapset guessed.

"200." Hugh clarified.

"Ugh." He groaned.

"No bargaining bud. Set price. If you can't pay the price, be nice and stop bothering me."

"Can't you give me a discount?" He whined.

"No. Are you leaving or do I have to call the enforcers?" Hugh threatened.

"No, no. I'll pay." He said, handing Hugh the money and left to search for what he had come here for. The exploding potions.

Hydapset checked his watch. It was 10 past 3 pm. The last carriage out of the institute was leaving in 20 minutes and he couldn't afford to miss it. It had already been two days since he had spotted the signal and he wanted to get back to it before it was too late.

Hydapset scanned the square for any signs of the teenaged acolyte who had brought them out last time. On the other edge of the square he spotted the boy. He was sitting behind a desk in the shade, the potions still with him.

Yes! Finally. He exclaimed.

Hydapset ran over to the boy and slammed his purse on the desk.

"Potions. Those. How much?" He shouted, leaning on the table, frightening the poor boy.

"20 per potion." The boy squeaked out.

"Done. Here." He replied, paying him and rushing out to the carriage station.

Soon. He thought. Soon his fortunes would turn. Soon. Soon he would be back home.