Fioro’s Underground, Blake’s Workshop

Sara is about three steps up the workshop’s entrance when a green light, roughly in the shape of a cone, shines from above the door; Containing a curse, Sara blinks while shielding her eyes and everting her gaze.

She’d forgotten about this!

The light scans her body from head to shoes, changing from red to green as it finishes.

“Sara Palmer, codename: Mockingbird, you were expected almost an hour prior… Explain thyself,” a mechanical, emotionless voice speaks from the direction of the light.

“Life happened your stupid hunk of metal! A warning would’ve been nice before blinding me!”

Namely, she had to reprogram her fake ID into her mask in order to enter Paradise due to recent changes in their security system… Boring, though necessary.

“Explanation found insufficient.”

“I don’t care what you think! Let me in already!”

“Command recognized; Password requested in order to execute.”

Sara rolls her eyes. “Please.”

“Command accepted.”

Once the light disappears, as abruptly as it had appeared, the metal doors it guards slide open silently, revealing a poorly illuminated space beyond.

If not for the welding noises coming from deep within, the workshop might’ve been almost eerie silent as Sara scans her gaze over the ever-empty reception counter to her right, practically fully occupied by different tools and trinkets, then over the many sized bots and machines hanging from the ceiling as she weaves her way inside, approaching the source of the noise.

“Blake!?” she calls, receiving no answer.

His figure is soon within her sight, hunched over a large hauler bot as he sits upon his hovering wheelchair with some sort of soldering device in his hand, an assistant bot at his side as it holds several tools and parts at grabbing reach.

“Blake!” Sara screams over the noise, attracting the bot’s gaze, if not his master’s.

“Sir, I believe we have company,” the bot says, its voice mechanical sounding.

Blake freezes, the noise stopping abruptly as he glances over his shoulder, downwards, and finds Sara's raised hand as she smiles at him.

“Hey there. I guess some things never change, eh?”

Blake’s metal jaw twists in a way akin to a smile… If one uses their imagination.

Unlike other inhabitants of Paradise, Blake wears no mask, allowing his greasy, slightly white-tainted hair to fall freely against his exposed, sweaty forehead as he descends his wheelchair toward Sara, dropping his tool over the bot’s already filled tray as it struggles to maintain them all from falling.

“There she is, my Mockingbird returns to her nest at last!” Blake begins, his slightly mechanical voice carrying noticeable cheerfulness as he opens his arms to greet her. Different from his jaw, legs, and arms, the man’s gray eyes are still very much human as he inspects Sara with the same strange robotic smile she has grown used to since they first met each other. “I was starting to worry!”

Rolling her eyes, Sara stops his incoming hug by raising her hand. “No hugging; You’re sweaty, and I have a meeting after we’re done.”

Far from losing his cheerfulness, Blake shrugs, dropping his open arms as he struggles to rise from his chair upon a pair of black mechanical legs… Sara might’ve offered to help, if not for knowing from experience he’d take it as an insult.

“Straight to the point, then? I imagine you must be late for that, too,” he says matter-of-factly, raising a teasing eyebrow in her direction as he finally manages to stabilize himself with the help of an intricate-looking metal cane, before shooing his chair away as he beckons Sara toward the workshop’s back.

Sara sighs. “It’s a curse. There’s nothing I can do.”

“Forget it, arriving safely is what matters.”

If only the rest of the world thought the same.

As they sway their way through bots and machines big and small, Blake throws Sara another glance. “Speaking of which, I assume the brat managed to find you?”

The brat?

“Green ogre mask? Bad attitude? Oh, we met all right.”

Blake sighs, sounding slightly machine-like while doing so. “Don’t mind him, his heart is in the right place... He was supposed to show you something.”

“If by that you mean his skating skills, then sure, I saw plenty. Otherwise, I don’t know what he was supposed to show me.”

Arriving before a circular platform near the workshop’s back wall, Sara glances up, toward the similar-sized hole above it, and shrugs.

“What did you think?”

Blinking, she gives Blake a confused glance. “Wait, you mean you asked him to show me his skating skills?”

Frustrated looking as he taps his cane and snorts, Blake shakes his head. “The dive, lass. Not his skills. How was it?”

“Oh… It was scary, but fun. Why?”

How much would one of those cost, anyway? Maybe if she practices her puppy eyes…

“Would you like to give it another try?”

Blake’s gray eyes seem unusually intense, and Sara is taken aback somewhat, though she still nods after a moment of hesitation.

“Sure. I guess? I mean, as long as I’m the one driving next… Next time…”

Sara’s voice gradually lowers as she watches Blake reaching for something among a pile of metallic objects near the platform, disappearing completely once she recognizes exactly what he’s reaching for.

“I’ll have to admit the dive was his idea, something about it being a waste if you didn’t fully appreciate their potential…” Blake shakes his head as he extends a golden skateboard toward Sara, holding it seemingly without trouble in his metal grip. “I know I’m a few months late, but the color reminded me of your hair, and fixing it... Never mind. Here, take it. Seventeen is an important milestone.”

Sara swallows, hard.

“It’s… it’s too much… I… I don’t even know what to say…”

Blake maintains his arm firmly extended, his expression unchanged, until Sara eventually reaches forward with slightly shaking hands, only to realize the board is nowhere near as light as he made it out to be.

And finally, as she struggles to raise the metallic object to eye level, admiring its recently redone dye job, Blake nods, satisfied-looking. “Think nothing of it. As you well know, just like everything else here, it was taken from the cemetery. Repairing it was a pleasure, and I’m happy to know it’ll fly once more.”

Sara blinks rapidly, taking a deep breath, then swallowing again as she meets his gaze with one of gratitude. “How am I supposed to refuse when you speak put it like that?”

“You’re not,” he remarks simply, gesturing at the platform. “Now, onto business?”

Hugging her newly acquired machine, Sara climbs over the platform absently, her thoughts scattered as she attempts to comprehend the recent chain of events.

A present for her seventeenth birthday… And she never bothered to ask how old he is…

Climbing after Sara, Blake taps his cane twice, initiating the platform's descent as he throws her a glance. “The board is already charged, in case you don’t feel like carrying it, and I already set its permissions to have you as its owner...”

The reality of the situation finally downing on her (mostly due to her arms rapidly growing tired), Sara allows a smile to play over his lips as gives another glance downwards. “I guess I’ll have no more excuses for arriving late once I get this thing going.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll still manage to arrive late for everything.”

The descent is short, and Blake snorts as they arrive upon a relatively small, poorly-lit room filled with many holographic screens in which he wastes no time entering, releasing a small sigh of relief while dropping upon a comfortable-looking chair relatively centered to the many large screens around, some of which are filled by a high-definition view of several places within Paradise.

Admitting to herself he’s probably right, Sara sighs as she follows, placing her board against the wall nearby - though it hurts to find herself separated from it so soon.

“In truth… I was hoping you’d visit more if I gave you the means to have fun in the process. I know Paradise can be a bit much when traveled on foot.”

As their gazes meet, breaking Sara from her casual scan of the room, she blinks, freezing, before smiling.

“I didn’t know there was a lonely old man behind all that metal.”

He snorts, returning her smile. “I won’t deny it, the bots make for poorer company than I initially assumed when opening the workshop… And you’re the closest I’ll ever have from a daughter.”

Blushing, Sara quickly averts her gaze as she pretends to find one of the hidden cameras above of particular interest.

“…Sorry. I overstepped my boundaries.”

“It’s okay.”

“Well, I have your order.”

Blake reaches into a compartment by his chair, pulling out a small drive and placing it atop the table, next to his hand.

Sara glances at it, though she doesn’t immediately move to grab the device.

“And I received your payment.” Blake raises his eyebrow. “Should I be concerned?”

“Why would you?”

“Lass…”

Sara shakes her head. “Don’t give me that. I stay away from the gangs, and I’m not selling my body or stealing. I- We, my team, found an investor. We’re playing for them, so they’re paying.”

Blake nods, swiftly throwing the drive in her direction, which Sara catches by reflex.

“There’s not much to go by yet,” he admits, “It seems anyone going after Aston’s reward decided to keep their findings to themselves, and they’re most likely the ones to have found something of interest.”

Sara stares at the drive in her hands, commanding the System to download its information as a small wall of text appears before her vision.

“Why do you figure they blocked information about the game?”

Blake shrugs. “I assume they intend to make information gathering a part of the challenge. A secret gets people excited, and now they’ll be forced to spread information about Eden by mouth. A game; Another distraction from the emptiness of our existence, from our lack of purpose.”

Or they’re scared of what players might have to say about Eden…

No way. What could possibly be so bad about a game they’d go out of their way to censor it? And if it’s so bad, why not cancel the project altogether?

Unclenching her grip, Sara returns Blake’s drive upon receiving a prompt about having finished the download.

“You weren’t lying about there not being much to go by yet.”

“Should give your team a head start. Am I to assume your mysterious sponsor is after the king’s promised wish?”

Seeing no reason to attempt an obvious lie, Sara nods. “How high do you think our chances are?”

“It depends. Big players might make their move, or watch from the side. Aston might interfere, or they might not. I figure your chances of making it before anyone else aren’t exactly great, but from what I’ve gathered, they aren’t null, either. At least, it seems Aston intends to take their promise seriously.”

“Good to know.”

Suddenly, Blake leans forward in his chair as he finds her gaze conspiratorially. “Lass, before you go… How is it?”

It…

Sara hesitates. “That’s part of the reason I came, actually. Could you… remove it?”

Almost immediately, Blake’s eyes gleam with disappointment, though they’re quick to regain their neutrality as he leans back once more. “I could. Well, I won’t pretend I’m not disappointed. Did it fail to meet your expectations?”

“Not… Not exactly,” Sara admits, “It worked almost too well, actually.”

Some of his excitement returning, Blake raises an eyebrow. “I’m listening.”

“It allowed me to capture signals meant for others, as you said it would… It made hacking and programming much easier, and it even seemed willing to bend the rules in my favor at times. But…”

“You’ve grown afraid of being caught?”

Sara sighs. “There’s that, too. But, more than that, sometimes, when it speaks, I get the impression… I get the impression it is alive. Like, I’m losing my mind over here. It has no will, right? It’s just a quirky AI?”

Blake blinks. “Lass, I’ve created no such thing as a quirky AI.”

“…What?”

Blake shakes his head. “Nowhere in its programming does it say it should be quirky. Much the opposite, it was designed to act exactly as the System would, excepting its extra perks, of course.” Pausing, Blake sighs. “Something must have gone wrong. You were right in mentioning it.”

Sara frowns. Thinking back to when she first downloaded it, it did act almost exactly as the System would. It wasn’t until later it began acting weird and speaking without an explicit command on her part.

“But… Are you certain it isn’t possible for it to have…”

Blake laughs. “To have what? Gained sentience? Lass, we’ve been living beside them for almost a century now. It was tried, by greater minds than mine, I’m sure…” Abruptly, Blake’s expression stiffens, his voice lowering in volume considerably. “It simply isn’t possible?”

“You realized something,” Sara props, stepping forward.

Blake shakes his head. “I realized that, if something of the sort did happen in the past, they’ve kept it from us. I wouldn’t put it past them to have buried it.”

“Aston?”

“Not necessarily. Research regarding AIs has always been a well-kept secret, immediately patented by any who managed to make even the smallest improvement or change over their first iterations. And now… No. The chances are simply…”

Blake frowns, rotating his chair as he quickly swipes away some of the holographic screens nearby, pulling his keyboard closer while highlighting others.

A series of codes soon occupies the frontmost of Blake’s office, through which he quickly swipes his gaze.

“I… I don’t understand. Nothing here… What could possibly…”

“Y-you know, I’m probably just imagining things… Why don’t we forget about the reset for now? I-it works well enough, anyway.”

Blake freezes, his gaze snapping in her direction as Sara steps back, smiling awkwardly.

“And I’m really late, so it’s probably better we leave this for another time, right?”

Before the confused-looking man can muster an answer, Sara turns on her heels as she runs toward the platform they descended through, quickly ordering it to rise.

“I understand your fear, Lass! But we should get to the bottom of it before-”

Blake’s voice is cut upon the platform’s arrival at the workshop’s ground floor.

After arriving up top once more, taking quick, short breaths, Sara weaves her way through the myriad of bots and machines with her eyes set firmly on the exit, until the hot air of Paradise’s bottom prickles against her sweaty skin, and she finds herself having an overwhelming urge to remove her mask and breathe.

Although, continuing to walk is exactly what she might have done, if not for something catching the corner of her eye.

Sara turns, her widened gaze falling upon the hovering board as it slowly approaches, stopping at arm’s reach.

Evidently, she gave it no command to switch on, let alone to follow, having forgotten about it in her hush to leave. Still, the golden board, now adorned by blue lights moving in strange, yet beautiful patterners, hovers before her as if waiting for its next command.

And, as Sara raises a slightly shaking hand toward it, the board immediately lowers itself to ground level, all but confirming her suspicions.

And then, as she stands briefly paralyzed, is that it speaks, as emotionless as usual, ‘“To live, is to exert influence over the world surrounding one’s existence. To die is to give up any and all say over one’s fate. As before the edge one stands, ready to dive, the choice to step forward is what separates the sentient from the leaf, merely dragged by the wind...” - Life, by Joshua Rees.’

Once the meaning of its words, echoing through her mind, slowly dawns upon Sara, she finds herself laughing; Slow at first, in short bursts of incredulous giggles, then almost hysterically, even as a small part of her still recognizes the seriousness of the situation, and that the smart thing to do would be to walk back in and get it - whatever it may be - removed from her head and dissected, as fast as possible.

But she… She isn’t going to do the smart thing, is she?

 

***

Eden, The Unknown

Beatrice stares at the gray world, seemingly endless, she finds herself surrounded by.

After using Eden’s headgear, she expected… Well, she doesn’t know what she expected, exactly, though it certainly wasn’t to open her eyes and find herself in a different place entirely.

“Welcome!”

Beatrice jumps, releasing a high-pitched scream.

“I’m Tutorial, the one and only! And you’re the seven-thousandth, eight-hundredth-”

“What in… What manner of creature… What are you?!”

The half-fish, hovering creature pauses its theatrics as it lowers its hands and slowly shakes its head. “Why does nobody ever let me finish? I worked many cycles on getting it just right, you know?”

This… This is a game. Of course… So, this… It must be some sort of AI designed to greet players…

Taking a deep breath in order to calm her fast-beating heart, Beatrice clears her throat, curtsying before the creature, who blinks, surprised.

“S-sorry. Tutorial, right? You scared me, but I didn’t mean to interrupt your entrance. I’m Beatrice, not exactly the one and only, my name’s pretty common, actually… Oops, sorry, I spoke without thinking again. Please, don’t mind me and continue.”

For a long moment, Tutorial hovers in silence, almost completely still, its mouth slightly open.

Did she… She didn’t break it, right?

Then, its eyes glean as it abruptly approaches, inspecting Beatrice’s body as it swims in rapid circles around her. “Ohhhh! Aren’t you the cutest thing! Like a person-sized doll!”

“Ah…! Wait! Stop!” Beatrice laughs, even as she becomes slightly dizzy from attempting to follow the creature’s movements. “Please tell me about the game!”

Twenty-odd minutes, and a long explanation later, Beatrice finds herself wishing she went to bed instead of attempting to unravel the mysteries pertaining to video games…

“I… I don’t know about this… Fighting isn’t exactly my cup of tea…” Beatrice murmurs toward a smiling Tutorial as it attempts to gently push her toward the group of seven basins summoned by it.

“Nonsense! You’ll make for a wonderful fighter one day! Everybody has to start somewhere… And besides, don’t you wish to find this… Seijuro, was it? Don’t you wish to find her?”

Planting her feet, Beatrice gives the creature a frustrated look. “I do! But you still haven’t told me if she’s even here!”

Releasing a sigh, Tutorial flies/swims away as it pouts, giving Beatrice a frustrated look and crossing its arm in the form of an “X” as it explains, “Look, I can’t! It goes against my purpose… Forbidden! No good! Understand?!”

“Okay, fine… I get it.” Beatrice eyes the basins. “I guess I’ll have to go see by myself if she’s there or not.”

Tutorial claps happily. “I knew you had it in you! Now, just remember to save the world meanwhile, and-”

Tuning the creature out, Beatrice shakes her head as she approaches the basins in order to inspect them.

A hero… Possibly the furthest thing from Beatrice there has ever existed… And still, here she is, considering the possibility…

Beatrice sighs as her eyes fall upon the first basin, containing a clear liquid she assumes is supposed to represent water. Tutorial made it clear the game has already started, this basin… selection?... being the first of many challenges to come, yada yada…

Well, since she’s already here, she might as well give the game a real try… Maybe it’ll at least help reduce her recent stress…

“Water… Dirt… Pebbles… Coal… Wine?”

After throwing the sixth basin a glance, and nearly vomiting on the spot, Beatrice stops before the fifth one, examining the red liquid inside it while stricken by a sudden wave of curiosity.

“I wonder…”

Carefully wetting her finger, Beatrice brings it to her lips as she sucks tentatively… And immediately regrets her decision as the salty, metallic taste assaults her tongue.

“What sort of wine is this!” Beatrice complains, gagging as she turns toward Tutorial, only to find the creature slightly agape once more.

“Oh… Well, it’s too late now, so at least try to have fun, okay?” it murmurs once it has finally recovered enough to, shaking its head, “And don’t mind the fangs, they’re actually quite nice once you get to know them!”

Beatrice might have demanded explanations out of the creature, if not for the splitting headache to assault her immediately as it finishes speaking.

‘My chosen, I greet thee. Fear not the darkness, for I walk by your side. Taste from the river of life, and know then my touch… Now, awaken, reborn anew…”

The whispering voice, velvet-like as it seems to drive away the pain, brings a long sigh out of Beatrice, and a single shiver to descend her spine.

Then, darkness covers her vision…

Cold… It’s so cold…

Beatrice opens her eyes, despite her heavy eyelids, to find herself shivering as she kneels upon a pull of red liquid, her skin white as paper. Immediately attempting to raise her head, she realizes she can hardly move or think through the fog of extreme hunger covering her thoughts.

“Oh my, and I was starting to think nobody else was showing up…”

Beatrice struggles to focus her vision as she notices somebody approaching, bare feet stepping lightly upon the red pond.

“You’re hungry, but don’t worry, you’ll feel better in a minute…”

The stranger, who now Beatrice recognizes as a woman, kneels before her, carefully lifting her face until their gazes have met, allowing Beatrice to glimpse into eyes tainted by red.

“Wow, aren’t you… A beautiful one…”

The woman’s eyes grow redder still, and Beatrice spots fangs against her lips, except, instead of the bite Beatrice now expects, she watches as the woman moves her own wrist toward her mouth, biting hard enough - yet almost delicately - to draw blood.

Beatrice’s mouth waters over the vision of red droplets running down the woman’s arm, even as something in her rebels against the idea of drinking blood.

But she’s so hungry… Maybe… Just a little sip…

The woman laughs while placing her bleeding wrist near Beatrice’s mouth, who can’t stop herself from immediately reaching for it in frantic need.

“It’s okay, drink now…”

As red liquid pours into her mouth, Beatrice feels an immediate surge of newfound strength, accompanied by a painful flash of clarity.

Lunging forward, Beatrice grabs at her savior’s arm, drinking as much as she’s able to before the woman suddenly pulls it away, easily sidestepping Beatrice’s next attempt at tackling her.

The aftertaste… She’s never tasted anything…

Beatrice likes her lips, her gaze drawn by the pull of blood she stands upon.

The woman laughs, releasing a sigh. “You’re welcome, Child… Though I suppose I can’t blame you. Go on, drink as much as you need. It is what it exists for, after all.”

Beatrice doesn’t need to be told twice. Falling upon her knees, she doesn’t hesitate in filling a handful of blood, taking it toward her mouth… Then another, and another…

She’ll never tire of the taste. She’ll never stop drinking! It’s… It’s just…!

Sobriety hits Beatrice harder than she thought possible as she abruptly retches a mouthful of blood, her body spasming for several moments of dreadful agony until finally stopping as Beatrice finds herself laying over the shallow pool of blood, her thoughts finally hers once again.

“See, it isn’t good to be greedy. What our Goddess gives freely, she may also take… And you’d do well to remember as much, Child.”

Slowly, Beatrice glances up, meeting the red-stained eyes of a blond, tall woman she can only describe as stunning.

“A warning… Would’ve been nice…” Beatrice manages, barely recognizing the hoarse sound coming out of her mouth as her own voice.

Smiling slightly, the woman raises an eyebrow. “And would you have listened?”

…Fair.

Still shaking somewhat, Beatrice slowly rises as she gives her surroundings their first scan.

Immediately apparent, the shallow pool of blood she currently stands upon is much larger than Beatrice initially assumed, overseen by an immense statue of a woman crying red tears at its center, from which it extends at least several hundred meters in all directions.

Not as immediately apparent, however, are the many cloaked figures standing silently at the pool’s edge, watching in near complete stillness despite the blush Beatrice acquires by realizing they must’ve witnessed what happened.

And what… What exactly is she wearing…?

Staring in horror at the blood-soaked rags which seem to only just cover her decency, Beatrice feels her face warming as her blush deepens, though she contains herself from releasing the squeak of indignation she normally might have, if only for the weight carried by the woman’s gaze settled upon her.

“I believe introductions, and explanations, are in order,” the vampire (vampire being Beatrice’s best guess, considering current circumstances) speaks as it curtsies, smiling seductively toward Beatrice, “Name’s Evelyn, or Eve, for close acquaintances, and you, my dear child, has been reborn under our Goddess’s grace, shedding from your mortal skin in order to embrace darkness… How may I address you, Child?”

“I’m… B-Beatrice… Beatrice Swain.” Feeling awkward and inadequate, Beatrice embraces herself in a semi-successful attempt at stopping her body from quivering. “What… W-where am I?”

“Oblium. Or, more precisely, you currently stand beneath the sacred House of Ekla, under the capital city of Blaelphis, having been summoned by our Goddess in our time of peril in order to… Well, your exact purpose is yet to be decided, I’m afraid,” Evelyn explains matter-of-fact-like, as though having your Goddess summon creatures from another world is but a normal occurrence anyone should be able to accept given a brief explanation. “And I, as fate would have it, have been assigned as your Mother, Beatrice Swain.”

“…M-mother?”

“By having witnessed your rebirth under our Goddess’s grace, and by having shared my blood, we are now bonded…” Evelyn waves her hand in dismissal. “Meaning I’m responsible for you, lucky me.”

“Oh…”

“Indeed.”

Remembering her manners at last, Beatrice is quick to curtsy in the woman’s direction. “T-thank you… For s-sharing your blood, and for looking after me, Miss Evelyn… And I’m sorry for having attacked you…”

Under the woman’s scrutinizing gaze, Beatrice bites her lip as she straightens herself.

“So, you remember... Commendable. Perhaps there is yet something to be gained from tutoring you… However, first things first, we must make you presentable for what’s to come, and fast. Valeria loathes being the last one to know, and she’ll want to see you soon rather than later.”

Though Beatrice nearly jumps in happiness over the mention of being made presentable again, things seem rather outside of her control since entering Eden, a state rather unbefitting of a player, in her humble opinion as a beginner in the field.

“…Valeria?”

Evelyn sighs. “Your Highness Valeria Shilowa, First of Her Name, Vanquisher of Razem, Champion of The Skies, Queen of the Night, Avatar of Blood… And really, more titles than I care to remember these days.”

“And what if… What if I refuse?”

Far from expressing the surprise, shock, or anger Beatrice expected, Evelyn simply stares into her eyes with something akin to amusement underlined by mockery as she releases a second, more pronounced sigh. “And here was I hoping you’d prove different, given your late arrival, but alas, we’ve learned to deal with your people’s antics by now. Let us skip the boring parts where you pretend this is a game, yes?”

Beatrice blinks, while Evelyn smiles coldly.

“Surprised? Well, let me put it as such: We’re aware you come from a different world. We’re aware you’re immortal. We’re aware some of you consider Eden’s inhabitants by the name of NPCs, or AIs… And we’re aware you’re able to acquire negative levels, rendering you rather harmless after enough beheadings. We’re also aware you’re able to come and go between worlds as you please, though not without consequences,” Evelyn lists as she counts up to five fingers, before lowering them as she continues, “Regrettably, our Goddess has made it clear you’re our best chance against the ever-encroaching grasp of Xiaris… Thus being, Her grace is the only reason your kind wasn’t hunted to extinction upon arrival.”

Beatrice opens her mouth, though she finds no words to utter, even as Evelyn stares at her patiently, for a long moment, before snorting.

“Did you truly expect us to not have any insight into your identity? To simply allow you to wander within our wall as you please? Well, as intriguing as the secrets pertaining to your people’s existence may be, they are not of our immediate priority, which is to say, you may keep them… For now. However, while you remain within Oblium, you will submit to the laws of our nation; First, to the words of our Queen; Second, to mine; And third, your Elders’, these being any vampire older than you to inhabit these walls. Failure in doing so shall result in immediate execution, followed by permanent banishment, meaning you’ll no longer find respite within Oblium, our temples, or our Goddess… Have I made myself clear?”

Beatrice bobbles her head so fast she nearly falls forward, while Evelyn quirks hers slightly, intrigued-looking.

“That being said, I’m obliged by law to offer you the choice to simply leave instead, and brave the Underworld of your own accord, would you wish to do so, forgoing my tutorship, and our Queen’s. To be clear, you’d still be allowed inside our cities and temples, but not the castle, therefore finding no aid from us without an equivalent price.”

Evelyn steps forward, raising both her hands.

“Now choose, Child: Servitude and safety… Or freedom?”

Beatrice’s heart thunders against her ears. Is this supposed to be how games are usually played? First Tutorial, and now Evelyn… Somehow, Beatrice seems to have missed the memo about AIs having advanced enough to hold entire conversations… She could disconnect, of course, return to her room, and never touch Eden’s headgear again…

In that case, what would Evelyn do, exactly? Or her Queen?

But… Something about Evelyn’s posture… Her half smile… The gleam of her eyes… It is obvious she’d be disappointed if Beatrice simply left now.

This is wrong. It feels so real… Too real. Her body, her soaked clothes, her feet upon the pond of blood… What is this place?

Under Evelyn's expectant gaze, Beatrice licks her lips. “If I choose to stay… May I bathe before attending the Queen?”

Lowering her hands, Evelyn blinks. “May? You must! Is that your answer?”

“I… I think so, yes. I don’t know what Underworld means, but it doesn’t sound exactly nice, and I’m still new in this whole hero business…”

Evelyn smiles, clapping her hands once. “Wonderful! In which case, we must hurry; I’m aware you’re only allowed to remain for a limited amount of time before returning, and I’d rather get through most of the basics today if it’s all the same to you.”

Though still somewhat hesitant over the recent turn of events her night has undergone, Beatrice nods. “W-what should I do?”

Evelyn smiles. “Extend your hand, and say: Stats. Well, any word should work, really, as long as the intention is there. Go on, give it a try.”

Beatrice does so.

“S-stats…?”

User: Beatrice Swain | Species: Dhampir | Level: 01 | XP: 0%

Strength: 70 (70) | Agility: 70 (70) | Sturdiness: 30 (30) | Blood: 105/100

Skills: Dark Vision 7/10, Passive Regeneration 1/10, Sun Allergy 1/1, Child of the Night 1/10, Allurement 1/10, Enhanced Senses 1/5.

Active Quests: None.