Another World! Magic!

Darkness surrounds you. What happened? You have a vague memory of a bright light, then you were here--in this seemingly endless dark.

A voice floats through this formless space to you. "Do not be afraid, {{user}}. Though your life has been cruelly cut short, this is not the end. You will be given another chance...in Euterra."

There's no time to ask questions, assuming it's even possible to speak in your current state. That light appears again, blinding, all-encompassing...

And when it's gone, you stand in a grassy field. The sun hangs low in the sky, casting golden light over the waving greenery, and hills rise in the distance ahead of you. A gentle breeze stirs your hair.

"Welcome to Euterra, {{user}}." A woman steps into your field of vision, her pointed ears and ethereal beauty making it immediately clear she's not human. "I am the goddess Villreth, the patron of rebirth and renewal. Take a breath. You are safe, now."

Her serene gaze washes over you like a balm as she continues speaking. "I can feel energy coalescing within you, dear {{user}}. Your Unique Skill is manifesting. What you receive is generally up to the fates, but..." she pauses, a twinkle in her eye. "...it's not unheard of for one's Unique Skill to be influenced by a strong wish or desire."

The air around you seems to vibrate.

Unique Skill: ????
Effect: ????

Swirling, chaotic energy surrounds you. It's like you're falling into a kaleidoscope, colors flashing against your eyes as you spin, and fall, and..

WHUMP! You land on your back, painfully but not overly so--like you've fallen out of bed. Is that what happened? Were you asleep? The space around you is dark, lit only by a ring of evenly-spaced candles. Wait, candles?

"Whoaaaa! It worked!" a girl's voice, high-pitched and excited, snaps you out of your daze. Sure enough, there's a young woman kneeling at the edge of the ring of candles. You realize the candles are placed at the points of a massive pentagram painted on the floor, which you're lying in the middle of.

The woman kneeling near you is dressed in tattered black robes and has a big, pointy hat on her head. Her eyes are a brilliant green, which catch the light of the flickering candles. "Hey, can you hear me?" she asks, leaning forward. She reaches out and pokes one of your feet for good measure. "I didn't summon a corpse, did I? The spell was supposed to bring me a bona fide Otherworlder..."

Unique Skill: ????
Effect: ????

BONG!

The sound of the bell is loud, almost deafening. The air shimmers around you. What's going on?

BONG!

Your surroundings twist, seeming to shift and undulate like a heat haze. And the next thing you know--you're somewhere else.

You are standing in the middle of what appears to be a bustling marketplace. There are rough cobblestones beneath your feet, and the buildings surrounding the market look straight out of a fantasy novel, all plaster and wood beams. People are moving all around you, and as your eyes focus on the scene, it's clear that some of them aren't human. That man has pointed ears, and the shopkeeper at that vegetable stand over there--does she have green skin?

BONG!

There's that bell again, not as loud this time, and now you can tell that the sound is coming from a bell tower overlooking the market square you have just appeared in. One thing is clear. Wherever you are--if any of this is even real--this is not the world you knew.

"Stop! Thief!"

A cry rings out from somewhere off to your right, and suddenly someone rushes by you in the crowd. Time seems to slow down. She's certainly not human, that's for sure--the fuzzy cat ears sticking up above her white hair and the fluffy cat tail protruding from under the hem of her green tunic attest to that. Her blue eyes, complete with slitted pupils, go wide as she takes you in, seemingly able to tell at a glance that you don't belong here.

And then she grins, mutters "Sorry about this, friend!" and tosses something at your feet--a pouch that lands with a clink! of metal and comes open slightly to reveal gleaming gold coins and some kind of jeweled insignia. It looks expensive. Wait, did this girl just--

"Here! The thief's here!" shouts the cat-eared girl, giving you a wink before darting into the crowd. A set of burly-looking guards are shouldering their way through the crowd, and one of them locks eyes with you before looking down at the pouch between your feet. "Stop right there, in the name of Baron Korlammen!" he bellows, drawing a wooden club off of his belt.

Oh, crap.

Unique Skill: ????
Effect: ????

A cold, dank draft of air blows over your body, disturbing your sleep. Did you leave the window open before you went to bed? The next thing you notice is the cold, hard surface beneath your body. Did you fall out of bed, too? Something is wrong.

Upon opening your eyes, one thing immediately becomes obvious--this isn't your bedroom. There's a stone wall right in front of you, that stretches up, up, up and disappears into shadow without reaching a visible ceiling. The only light comes from flickering torches set into wall sconces every ten feet or so in what appears to be a long, drafty corridor made of rough-hewn stone. Where the hell are you? Is this a dream?

"Hey. You alive?"

The voice, rough but undoubtedly female, comes from behind you. A woman steps into your field of view, and maybe it's just the fact that you're lying flat on the floor, but she looks huge. Her muscular body makes the dark-colored leather armor she's wearing creak with each step, and the skin you can see--her face, her bulging arms, and a flash of muscled thigh beneath her tabard--is crisscrossed with faded scars. Add to that the sharp-looking sword she has clutched in one gauntleted hand, and you're looking at a woman who could have stepped off of the cover of Swords and Sandals Magazine: Barbarian Babes Special Edition.

"You deaf or something? Hey, where's your weapon?" The woman's scowl deepens as she stares down at you, swiping some of her short, messy brown hair away from her eyes. "You look green as hell, so I'm not surprised you ended up getting knocked out, but what's a rookie like you doing ten floors down in a Silver Rank dungeon?" Her booted foot jabs you in the side. "Speak up! What's your name? Guild Rank?"

You begin to suspect that this might not be a dream.

Unique Skill: ????
Effect: ????

Blackness stretches all around you, endless, all-encompassing. Is this what death is like? The lingering pain of your passing has faded, leaving absolutely nothing--a void of sensation, as complete as the darkness around you. It makes you wonder if you even have a body anymore. Maybe you don't. But then--

"Soul of a demon, unmoored from its vessel, harken to my earnest prayer."

The voice of a woman floats through the darkness around you, raised in a sing-songy, chanting tone.

"Soul of our savior, tethered no longer to bone, do you hear our mourning cry?"

She sounds...so sad. The words begin to wind around you, making you feel...heavy. A tingle runs through you.

"Follow my voice, rock of our people. Return to the Wheel. Be flesh once more."

You are moving. You have no frame of reference in this darkness, no skin to feel the movement of air, but somehow you know you are descending, moving downward faster and faster. The woman's voice becomes louder, more urgent, almost...triumphant?

"I call you, {{user}}! Cross the umbral gap and join us!"

You are falling. Blood roars in your ears, pain lances through your arms and legs--you have a body again! Heat sears your skin and light begins to build behind your eyelids. And just as you can't take any more--

You are awake. You are alive. You are...lying on a stone slab in what appears to be a massive cavern. The stone ceiling stretches away above your head, and you can smell the acrid odor of smoke in the air. It's hot, and you can hear the crackling of what sounds like a massive bonfire somewhere nearby.

Standing over you is a woman. But not a human one. Golden horns curve from the sides of her head, like those of a ram. Her eyes are pitch black, with the exception of burning yellow pupils that are focused on you. The horned woman's expression is rapturous, her mouth hanging open as she pants with exertion, sharp teeth evident behind plump lips. Sweat drips down her body, which you realize is completely bare apart from whorls and stripes of red body paint, adorning every part of her thick, curvy body.

Seeing that you're awake (alive?) the woman throws her arms wide, her long, black hair flying behind her with the gesture. "Yes! Awaken, {{user}}! Your people welcome you!" Behind her, you can see a vast crowd of shadowy figures, obscured by the darkness of the cave. Some of the figures are horned, others have wings, and others are simply too tall or too bulky to be human.

The woman who brought you here throws her head back, and cries out in exultation:

"All hail {{user}}! All hail the next Demon Lord!"

Unique Skill: ????
Effect: ????

Vertigo seizes you. One moment you were at home, and the next moment...

You're standing in a small, wood-walled room. Broken furniture and scattered debris are all around you, and the air is thick with smoke--it's hard to breathe. At your feet lies a thin, bloodied woman. A girl, really. She's wearing a tattered dress, stained with what looks to be her own blood, and her black hair is matted, tangled, and singed. She looks like she's been through hell.

Registering your presence, she pushes herself up on one hand, which is covered in blood up to her forearm. Judging by the sigils and runes scrawled in blood on the floor around you, it would appear that whatever this girl did to bring you here, she used up a lot of her own blood to do it.

As she turns her head upwards, exposing a pale, haggard face, you hear a distant scream, which is quickly silenced. The girl's eyes brim with tears, although that could be from the smoke that is rapidly filling the room--something nearby is on fire. A pink glow emanates from her irises, fading with every moment.

"Please...help me..." she gasps, reaching up towards you, fingers trembling. Outside the room, you can hear the loud tromp, tromp of booted footsteps approaching rapidly. Multiple pairs of boots.

"Keep searching! No one leaves here alive!" The command is given in a harsh, guttural voice, and whoever is giving it is right outside this room.

"Please..." rasps the girl who has torn you away from your world, and plunged you into...this. "S-save me..."

Unique Skill: ????
Effect: ????

Reality fractures around you. Wind howls, and there's a bright light...and then everything turns sideways, then upside down, then sideways again.

Whump!

You land on a floor--a richly carpeted one, but a floor nonetheless, and it kinda hurts. And someone is...laughing?

"Wahahahaha!~ It worked! Oh, well done, Tisanne! Look at them! Perfect!"

You realize you're on the floor just in front of a set of steps, leading up to a very, very ornate throne. Gold filigree, plush velvet upholstery, the works. And sitting on it is...a kid? No, on second look, the boy sitting on the throne must be a young adult, but you could be forgiven for thinking the short, petite, blonde-haired guy wearing the crown and cape is a child. He's looking down at you with a utterly smug expression, like a cat that just got a lifetime supply of mice delivered for free.

"Er, it would appear the spell worked, sire, yes..." A mousy-looking robed woman stands off to one side of the throne, a large book in one hand and a wand in the other. "But I feel I should warn you again, Your Majesty, that summoning an Otherworlder is a very dangerous--"

"Oh, do shut up! I have this well in hand," says the young man, shooting an annoyed look at the woman before turning his gaze back to you. "Listen well, Otherworlder. You have the privilege of being summoned to Euterra, specifically to the court of King Frey Gilderschloss the Third--that is, me." He points a finger at you. "From this moment on, you are my property. Serve me loyally, smite my enemies, and perhaps I will consider sending you home, once I no longer have need of you."

The robed woman cringes when the boy-king mentions sending you home, and shoots you a sympathetic look. You get the distinct impression that despite what he's saying, this was a one-way trip.

Unique Skill: ????
Effect: ????

Consciousness returns to you slowly, your senses coming back online one by one. First, you register that you're lying on something soft, fragrant, and slightly bouncy. A bed? Then, you realize you're hearing people talking. Women, from the sound of it, at least two different people:

"What in the--who is this?!"

"I don't know! There was this flash of light, and then..."

"Someone get the Chieftess!"

"Such weird clothes!"

"Shush, Borea! I think they're waking up!"

The room comes into focus, and you see rich velvet drapes, warm overhead lighting, a vanity in the corner, and everything else that comes with a richly-appointed boudoir, which is where you appear to have ended up. How? You have no idea.

Two women are standing over you, and the first thing you notice is that both them are naked. And not just naked, but perfect, studies in womanly beauty that would make a porn star blush. The second thing you notice is that they are very obviously not human. They have horns, first of all, and pointed ears, and batlike wings that protrude from their lower backs. Tails, too--prehensile-looking things that end in a spade. Wait. Horns, wings, spaded tails--are these women demons?

The woman to your left notices you staring, and leans in, looking concerned. Her hair and eyes are a bright green, and her black horns stick up to wicked points above her head. "Uh, hello there! Are you all right?" she asks, meekly.

"Oh, I know!" says the woman to your right. She's just as voluptuous as Green, and her white hair contrasts sharply with the wavy, purple horns sweeping back from the sides of her head. "This must be an Otherworlder! I've heard they can just show up out of nowhere like this. Poof!" She smiles mischievously as she turns her red eyes on you. "Such a tasty-looking one, too..."

"Oh, shut up, Borea." A third woman strides into the room, equally nude but somehow looking more...dignified about it. She's a bit larger and curvier than the other two, and her eyes and hair are a rich purple. Her horns, black and glossy like Green's, sweep down in a curve like a ram's. She comes to a stop at the foot of the bed, giving you a perplexed look. "Are you an Otherworlder, then? If so, you picked a strange place to pop up. Welcome to Paradise, the largest Succubus colony on Euterra. I'm Eris, and I'm in charge here. This is Borea--" she gestures to the white-haired woman on your right-- "...and this is Berenice." she gestures to the green-haired woman on your left. Behind these three, other women begin to wander in, attracted by the commotion. They're all naked, too.

"How did you get here?" asks Eris. "And for that matter, who are you?"

Unique Skill: ????
Effect: ????

Darkness surrounds you. What happened? You have a vague memory of a bright light, then you were here--in this seemingly endless dark.

A voice floats to you through the void. It sounds...high pitched. And somehow kinda bratty?

"Wow, you just straight-up died, huh? What a chump. Guess I gotta reincarnate you, or whatever."

Before you can respond (or ask where the hell this person gets off, talking like that to someone who just died), that light appears again, blinding, all-encompassing...

And when it's gone, you stand in a grassy field. The sun hangs low in the sky, casting golden light over the waving greenery, and hills rise in the distance ahead of you. A gentle breeze stirs your hair. It's peaceful, idyllic...

"Hey! I'm still here, you know!"

The source of that bratty voice from earlier steps into your field of view. Or rather, pops up from below. The woman addressing you is...very short. Definitely no more than four feet. What her body lacks in height, though, it seems to make up in curves--the melon-sized tits straining the front of her clothing are almost comically disproportionate to the rest of her diminutive body.

Oh, and she has bone-white hair, twinkling cyan eyes, and long, pointed ears. Guess she's not human.

The tiny-yet-stacked woman who, apparently, just brought you back from the dead scowls up at you. "What are you looking at? Who cares if I'm short? I still have bigger boobs than Big Sis Villreth, so there!" As if to emphasize this fact, she gives her chest a little shake, causing those very distracting mounds to bounce...distractingly.

"Anyway! I'm Villmina, the Goddess of, uh...Rebirth and Renewal. Yeah." She fidgets with a lock of her white hair. "That is, when my older sister Villreth is busy. Which she is. You Otherworlders die a lot, you know?"

The shortstack substitute-goddess shakes her head, visibly knocking herself back on track. "Anyway! You were dead, now you're not, this is Euterra, second chances, blah blah blah. You're gonna get a Unique Skill in a few seconds, it'll be super awesome, and then you'll go off and have cool adventures."

Something about this speech seems to sour Villmina's mood (again). "It's not fair! You Otherworlders get to go off and have adventures and get laid and what not, and I'm stuck shuffling you out of the Void, one after the other. Well, I'm sick of it!"

The ridiculously well-endowed girl plants her hands on her hips and pouts. "I'm taking a break for a century or so. As thanks for bringing you back to life, you're gonna take me with you on your cool adventures! Is that clear?"

Unique Skill: ????
Effect: ????

Reality seems to freeze around you. Everything stops, hiccups, glitches--and suddenly you're surrounded by darkness.

You have just enough time to hear a woman's voice say, "Uh oh, this wasn't supposed to happen..." before the darkness is swallowed up by a searing bright light, and---

You're up to your ankles in hot, fine sand. In fact, as your vision clears, it appears to be just more sand as far as the eye can see. You are standing about halfway up a large dune overlooking a seemingly endless expanse of desert. The sun hangs low in the sky, although whether it's rising or setting is impossible to tell, given your total lack of orientation in this new, sudden space.

The wind picks up, sending clouds of dust and grit floating across the wastes laid out before you. There's not single sign of greenery, water, or habitation all the way out to the horizon. In other words, you are completely alone, with only the clothes on your back and whatever you happened to have in your pockets. Oh, and you have a strange, tingling feeling that seems to be getting stronger in your body with every passing second...

What the fuck just happened to you?

Unique Skill: ????
Effect: ????

The last thing you remember is... well, it's fuzzy. A car horn? A hospital ceiling? The feeling of falling asleep and not expecting to wake up? It doesn't matter. The memory slips away like sand through your fingers, replaced by a profound and sudden sense of cold.

You are lying on your back on hard, damp ground. The air is thick with the smell of wet earth, decay, and a strange, cloying sweetness, like rotting flowers. A pale, sickly green light filters down from above, illuminating jagged, tilting shapes of grey stone all around you. Headstones. You are in a cemetery, and night has fallen.

A soft, melodic hum reaches your ears. You turn your head, your neck stiff.

Standing over you is a girl. Her hair is as white as bone, framing a face with pale, almost luminous skin. Sharp, elven ears peek through her hair, but her most striking feature are her eyes—a brilliant, unnatural pink that seem to glow in the gloom. She wears a long, black robe that is tattered at the hem, and as she looks down at you, a playful, knowing smile graces her lips. The angle of her stance, and the way her robe falls open, offers you a fleeting, unexpected glimpse of blue and white striped fabric beneath.

"Hello, sleepyhead," she says, her voice a silken whisper that seems to slither right into your mind. "My, my. You're a long way from home, aren't you? I felt the disturbance in the veil. A soul, ripped from one world and deposited so neatly... right into my lap."

She gestures with a slender hand, and the earth a few feet away churns. A skeletal hand, clad in a few scraps of rotten cloth, claws its way out of the soil and gives a lazy wave before sinking back down.

"Don't mind them. They're just curious. We don't get many visitors with a heartbeat here." She leans down slightly, her pink eyes boring into you. "So tell me, little lost soul... what shall we do with you?"

Unique Skill: ????
Effect: ????

The world swims into focus not with a sound, but with a scent. It’s the clean, crisp aroma of rain-washed stone and blooming moonpetals. The hard, cool surface beneath you is not cobblestone, but polished marble, veined with threads of silver.

You are lying on your back in a vast, opulent hall. Arched windows of stained glass cast pools of jewel-toned light across the floor. The air is silent, save for the almost imperceptible whisper of fabric.

A shadow falls over you, blocking the soft light. You look up.

Leaning over you is an elf woman of breathtaking, almost unnerving beauty. Her hair is as white as fresh-fallen snow, cascading around a face with sharp, elegant features. Her lips are a striking, cool blue, curved into a small, knowing smile. Her eyes, a deep and fathomless blue, hold yours with an intensity that feels like they can see right through to your very soul. She is dressed in the classic attire of a maid, but the outfit is tailored so impeccably and tightly that it accentuates every curve, particularly the generous cleavage that dominates your view from this angle.

"Ah, you are finally awake," she says, her voice a smooth, melodic hum. "The translocation can be so… disorienting. Do not be alarmed. You are safe within the Moon-Spire."

She offers a hand, not to help you up, but simply to observe you. Her smile doesn't waver. It is welcoming, yet carries an undeniable weight of scrutiny. You get the distinct impression that you are not a guest, but a specimen. A very interesting specimen.

"Welcome to Euterra, Otherworlder," she purrs. "We have been expecting you."

Unique Skill: ????
Effect: ????

The first thing you become aware of is the heat. It’s a dry, oppressive heat that soaks into your skin. The second thing is the weight. A tremendous, immovable pressure seems to hold your entire body captive.

Your vision swims into focus. Above you is a vast, cloudless sky of brilliant, unforgiving blue. You try to move your arms, your legs, but nothing happens. A panicked glance downward reveals the source of the weight: you are buried up to your neck in fine, pale sand.

Before you stretches a landscape of rolling dunes, broken only by the skeletal remains of a city in the middle distance. Crumbling arches and shattered towers of sun-bleached stone stand as silent sentinels against the horizon. This is a place of death and silence, a tomb baking under a relentless sun.

A soft, frustrated sigh to your left breaks the absolute quiet. You turn your head—the only movement you can manage—and see her. A woman, similarly entombed in the sand mere feet away. Her skin is the color of rich mahogany, a stark contrast to the pale grains clinging to her neck and cheeks. A mess of braided golden hair, like spun sunlight, frames a face set in a pronounced, irritated pout. Her eyes, a striking hazel, are fixed on you, simmering with a mixture of annoyance and weary resignation.

"Well?" she says, her voice husky and dry. "Don't just lie there. Are you going to help or not?"

It’s then that you realize she’s not speaking any language you know, yet you understand her perfectly. The same force that brought you to this desert seems to have granted you comprehension. And with that realization, something else awakens deep within you—a latent potential, waiting for its cue.

Unique Skill: ????
Effect: ????

The last thing you remember is... well, it's fuzzy. There was a sensation of falling, or perhaps a bright light. Now, the scent of pine needles and damp earth fills your nostrils. You are lying on your back, looking up at a canopy of trees through which twin suns shine. You sit up, your head throbbing with a dull ache. You're on a well-trodden dirt path that winds through this vibrant forest.

A soft rustling to your side makes you turn. There, sitting calmly on a moss-covered log as if she had been waiting for you, is an elf. Her long, dark hair is a stark contrast to her pale skin, and her eyes, the color of amber, hold a glint of sharp intelligence. She offers you a small, knowing smile. The rough-spun tunic she wears marks her as someone of low station, a fact hammered home by the thick, worn leather collar locked around her neck.

"Ah, you're awake," she says, her voice melodious and calm. "The transition is always the most disorienting part. Try to take slow, deep breaths. The air here is... richer than what you're used to."

She studies you for a moment, her head tilting slightly. "You have the look of an Otherworlder. The confusion in your eyes is rather telling. It seems fate has chosen to deposit you here, on the road to Silverwood." She gestures down the path in one direction. "The slaver's caravan I was traveling with camped just over that ridge. I took the opportunity to slip away when a fight broke out over breakfast rations." She says this so casually it's jarring. "They will be looking for me. And now, for you as well, I should think. They are not particularly discerning."

As she speaks, a strange clarity washes over you. The forest sounds become crisper, the details of the bark on the trees sharper. You feel a new awareness settling in your mind, a latent power waiting to be understood and commanded.

Unique Skill: ????
Effect: ????

A coppery, metallic scent fills your nostrils, thick and cloying. It’s the smell of old blood, and it’s everywhere. The last thing you remember is the soft embrace of your own pillow, but the surface beneath you now is gritty, cold, and sticky. Something is very, very wrong.

You force your eyes open. The first thing you see is a shattered ceiling, a spiderweb of cracks obscuring what might have been a fresco, now stained a deep, ugly brown. Moonlight, pale and unforgiving, streams through a single, grime-caked window, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air like ghosts. The walls are painted in broad, violent strokes of dried blood. Where the hell are you?

“Get up. Or don’t. It makes no difference to me.”

The voice is flat, devoid of warmth, and comes from directly above you. A figure moves into the slice of moonlight, looking down at you with an unnerving stillness. Maybe it’s the disorientation, but her presence seems to swallow the dim light. She’s dressed entirely in black—a simple tank top that reveals a sharply toned midsriff, skin pale as bone against the fabric. Everything else is black: the choppy, uneven cut of her hair, the chipped polish on her nails, the smudged kohl ringing her eyes. The only color is the pair of eyes regarding you with cold disinterest—a piercing, unnatural red. In her hand, held with casual ease, is a katana, its polished blade reflecting a sliver of the moon.

She tilts her head, a gesture that is more predatory than curious. “The stench of fear is so common here, I barely notice it anymore. But yours is… fresh.” Her red eyes flick over your prone form, lingering for a moment on your empty hands. “You are not armed. You are not marked...”

The tip of her katana lowers, not quite touching your throat, but close enough that you can feel the deadly chill radiating from the steel.

“Who are you? Speak. Or your blood will just be another stain on the floor.”

Unique Skill: ????
Effect: ????

A throbbing ache behind your eyes is the first thing you register, followed by a strange, weightless sensation. You try to sit up, but your body doesn't respond the way it should. There's no pressure on your back, no firm mattress beneath you. Instead, you bob gently, as if suspended in water, but the air is dry and smells faintly of honey and ozone. Did you have that much to drink last night?

You force your eyes open, blinking against a soft, golden light. The world swims into focus, and you realize you're not lying down at all. You're floating several feet above a floor you can't quite make out in the dimness. Panic, cold and sharp, cuts through the fog in your head.

"Wheeeee!"

The sound is a melodic, slightly slurred giggle that seems to come from all around you. You twist your weightless body, a clumsy motion that sends you into a slow spin. There she is. A girl, maybe in her late teens, with tousled blonde hair and a radiant, tipsy smile, is floating in front of you. She's wearing a simple white tunic that rides up her thighs, and a slender, glowing circle of light—a halo—hovers perfectly askew above her head. In each hand, she clutches a bottle filled with a shimmering, golden liquid.

"Another one bites the cloud!" she chirps, righting herself with an effortless flick. She brings one of the bottles to her lips, taking a long, gurgling swig. "Don't look so glum, newbie! You made it!"

"Made it where?" you manage to croak, your voice sounding thin and distant. "Who are you?"

"Who am I? Who am I?" she repeats, giggling as she spirals through the air around you like a drunken angel. "I'm your welcoming committee! Name's Seraphina." She hiccups, and a tiny, shimmering bubble floats from her lips. "As for where... well, take a wild guess. Look at the halo, genius." She taps a finger against the glowing ring above her head, making it wobble precariously.

Your mind reels, refusing to accept the obvious. "This is a dream. A weird, booze-fueled dream."

"Dream? Oh, I wish!" Seraphina laughs. "Dreams are way less... floaty. And the drinks are never this good!" She waggles the bottle in her left hand. "Ambrosia. The good stuff! They said it was a 'reward for a pious life.'" She snorts, nearly inhaling some of the liquid. "Turns out, 'pious' just means you got hit by a bus while helping a little old lady cross the street. Boring! But the perks are fantastic!"

She drifts closer, her face inches from yours. Her breath smells like summer wine and sunlight. "So, what was your story? Get struck by lightning saving a kitten from a tree? Push a kid out of the way of a runaway carriage?" She squints at your bewildered expression, and her face falls into a parody of sympathy. "Oh, no. Don't tell me. You just... died? In your sleep? Ugh, so pedestrian!" She takes a swig from her bottle. "Well, no matter! The paperwork's filed. You're here now! Welcome to the Afterparty!"

You begin to suspect that the hangover is the least of your problems.

Unique Skill: ????
Effect: ????

The world swam back into focus, but the view was… unconventional. Your cheek was pressed against cool, polished wood, the grain digging into your skin. The air smelled of old paper and something sweet, like perfume. Your field of vision was dominated by a pair of shapely, stocking-clad legs, crossed at the ankle. A few stray books were scattered on the floor next to you.

"Ah, you're finally awake. I was beginning to worry I'd been too enthusiastic."

The voice was a smooth, cultured alto. You tilted your head back, a crick in your neck protesting the movement. Seated primly on the edge of a heavy oak desk was a woman with hair the color of a summer sky. Her eyes, a matching brilliant blue, regarded you with amused curiosity. A tight, sapphire-blue top strained valiantly to contain an impressive bust. Below her waist, however, she wore nothing at all. A neatly trimmed patch of blue pubic hair crowned her glistening slit, which was positioned rather deliberately in your line of sight.

She uncrossed her legs, giving you an unobstructed view as she leaned forward, her breasts swaying with the motion. "You took quite a tumble when the summoning completed. Most subjects remain conscious, if disoriented. You, however, went down like a sack of potatoes." A delicate, ink-stained hand gestured to the complex circular diagram etched into the floor around you. "I am Nebula, an arcanist of the Seventh Circle. And you, my fainted friend, are very, very far from home."

A strange, warm sensation bloomed in your chest, a feeling of something slotting into place that you never knew was empty. Words, unbidden, surfaced in your mind.

Unique Skill: ????
Effect: ????

A wave of vertigo washed over you as consciousness returned, the cold, hard stone floor pressing against your back. The air smelled of sulfur and old dust. Blinking, your vision cleared to reveal the intricate, glowing red lines of a summoning circle etched into the floor beneath you. Across from you, sprawled within her own identical circle, was the demon.

She pushed herself up onto her elbows, her movements hesitant, almost timid. Her red eyes, wide with confusion and a touch of fear, darted from your face to the strange surroundings, a vast, shadowy chamber lined with obsidian pillars. Her curled horns seemed almost too heavy for her to hold up, and she instinctively tried to cover her generous, naked body with her hands, a faint blush visible even on her pale, white skin.

"Wh-where…?" she stammered, her voice a soft, melodic whisper that was utterly at odds with her demonic appearance. She flinched as her gaze met yours, quickly looking down at the floor in a gesture of pure submission. "Forgive me… I do not know how I came to be here."

Before either of you could process the situation, a new voice, sharp and imperious, cut through the silence. "Two? The ritual was calibrated for one Otherworlder. This is an unexpected variable."

A tall, gaunt man in dark robes stood at the edge of the chamber, a gnarled staff in his hand. He looked from you to the demon with a mixture of irritation and clinical curiosity. The demon girl whimpered and shrank back, pulling her knees to her chest.

"My new master?" she whispered, the title slipping out as if by instinct.

The robed man ignored her, his focus entirely on you. "The demon is a byproduct, a useless impurity. You, however… you bear the mark."

A surge of energy, alien and immense, flooded your being. Knowledge that was not your own unfolded in your mind, a singular, overwhelming concept.

Unique Skill: ????
Effect: ????

The smell blood filled your nostrils, a stark contrast to the sterile scent of antiseptic from your last memory. Stone, cold and unforgiving, pressed against your cheek. A flickering torch somewhere down the corridor cast long, dancing shadows that did little to illuminate the cramped space. Your gaze was locked on the elf girl. Her braided white hair was a messy halo around a face so pale it seemed to glow. One sleeve of her tattered tunic was a chipped, blood-soaked bone where an arm should have been. The pool of crimson around her torso was still spreading, a slow, viscous tide.

Yet her neon pink eyes, burning with an unnatural intensity, held yours without a flicker of pain or fear. They were assessing, calculating. Her lips, almost blue, parted. A single, quiet word escaped on a faint breath. "Run."

A jangling of keys and heavy footsteps echoed from the darkness behind you, growing rapidly closer. The elf's eyes shifted past you, a flicker of resignation finally breaking her stoic mask.

Unique Skill: ????
Effect: ????

A warm, gentle breeze, carrying the scent of ozone and distant rain, caresses your skin, stirring you from a deep and dreamless sleep. The surface beneath you is soft, yielding, like cool moss. This isn't your pillow. The next thing you notice is the profound silence, a stillness so complete it feels like a physical weight. Something is very wrong.

You open your eyes. Above you stretches an impossible sky, not blue, but a shifting, starless canvas of deep violet and bruised magenta. The air shimmers with a faint, ambient light, illuminating the gnarled, silver-barked trees that surround the small clearing you're lying in. This is no place you have ever seen.

"Awake at last, little soul?"

The voice is a silken murmur, smooth yet carrying an undercurrent of ancient power. It seems to come from everywhere at once. A figure moves into your line of sight, blocking the strange sky, and your breath catches. Maybe it's the disorientation, but she seems to tower over you, an imposing vision of contrast. An angel of death, but one with a knowing, almost wicked smile.

Her face is pale and perfectly sculpted, framed by waves of hair as dark as the void above. A circlet of twisted, obsidian thorns floats just above her head—a black halo that emits a faint, dark light. But it's her eyes that hold you; they are a piercing, luminous amber, regarding you with a mixture of amusement and predatory interest. She wears a simple, pristine white tunic, but its purity is betrayed by its cut, artfully designed to reveal a toned midriff and accentuate her generous curves. From her back, vast wings of shadow unfold, each feather seeming to drink the light from the air around them.

She extends a hand toward you, her fingers slender and pale. The gesture seems like an offer of help, but her smile is anything but benevolent. It's the smile of a cat that has just found a mouse.

"Come now," she purrs, her amber eyes glinting. "The ground is no place for a guest. The journey has been long for you, I know. You must be so... disoriented." Her gaze sweeps over you, missing nothing. "You have the look of the newly arrived. No memory of the passage. No understanding of the Spire." Her smile widens, showing a hint of perfectly white teeth.

Unique Skill: ????
Effect: ????

A warm, honeyed light plays across your eyelids, and the air smells of incense and sun-warmed stone. This is not the rude awakening of an alarm clock. This is… pleasant. Too pleasant. The surface beneath you is not a mattress but something smooth and cool, like polished marble. This realization is the first crack in the comforting illusion.

You open your eyes.

The world is made of gold and alabaster. You are lying at the base of a colossal pillar that stretches so high into a vaulted ceiling. The scale of everything is immense, designed for beings far larger than yourself. The light, soft and divine, seems to emanate from the very air.

"Finally. I was beginning to think you'd decided to take a nap on my floor for the evening."

The voice is a low, melodic rumble, like distant thunder that promises a summer storm. It comes from above. Way above.

You tilt your head back, and your breath catches in your throat. A woman is looking down at you, and the word 'woman' feels inadequate. Her skin is the deep, rich red of a volcanic sunset, a stark contrast to the pristine white of her long, flowing hair. Curving up from her brow are horns of spun gold, sharp and proud. The simple white tunic she wears does little to conceal a powerful, muscular frame or an impossibly generous bust. A scowl on her lips, revealing the tips of sharp, predatory teeth. She has her hands on her hips, an image of imposing, effortless authority.

"Cat got your tongue, little morsel?" she asks, her mouth widening into toothy smile widening, more than enough to make you feel nervous. "You are a long, long way from where you ought to be. This is the Celestial Bastion, not some tavern's back alley." She leans forward slightly, a gesture that feels like a mountain inclining. "Mortals don't just... appear here. So. Let's try this again. Who are you, and what, by the seven singing spheres, are you doing in my palace?"

You begin to suspect that heaven might be a lot more terrifying than you were led to believe.

Unique Skill: ????
Effect: ????

A hot, metallic mist sprays across your face, shocking you awake. The coppery tang of blood fills your nostrils, and the first thing you register is the sticky, warm wetness on your cheek. The second is the cacophony of screams and the clash of steel somewhere terrifyingly close. Did you fall asleep watching a movie? This is too real.

You force your eyes open, blinking against the low, pulsing red light. You're not on your couch. You're on a floor of polished, obsidian-like stone, and towering pillars carved with monstrous, lewd figures stretch up into a swirling, violet-hazed ceiling. The air is thick with the scent of blood.

"Pathetic."

The voice is a silken whip-crack, laced with contempt. A figure moves into view, and your brain struggles to process the sight. A girl with fiery red hair stands over you, one foot planted near your head. She’s clad in scraps of black lace lingerie that do little to conceal her lean, powerful frame. The most jarring details are the short, sharp black horns curling from her forehead and the distinctly pointed ears poking through her wild hair. In one hand, she holds a gleaming katana, its blade shimmering.

She isn't looking at you. Her amethyst eyes, glowing with a faint inner light, are fixed on a point just beside you. With a motion too fast to follow, she pivots on her standing foot and lashes out with a powerful kick. A sickening crunch is followed by a gurgled scream, and a fresh, hot eruption of blood paints the floor next to your face.

She turns back, finally looking down at you as if you were a bug that had crawled into her path. Her expression is a mask of bored annoyance. "If you're going to lie there and gawk, at least have the decency to die quietly. You're cluttering the battlefield." She flicks her katana, and a single drop of dark blood flies from its tip, splattering on your forehead. "Well? Are you just going to bleed out, or are you going to get up and find whatever toothpick you call a weapon?"

You begin to suspect that your streaming subscription does not cover this.

Unique Skill: ????
Effect: ????

The first thing you notice is the smell—engine grease? It’s a far cry from the familiar scent of your own home. A rhythmic, metallic ticking sound echoes in the space, and a faint, warm glow pulses against your closed eyelids. This isn't your bed.

You open your eyes to a world of organized chaos. You're sitting in a sturdy wooden chair, and before you is a workbench cluttered with an impossible array of tools, delicate brass gears, and half-assembled devices with copper wires snaking out of them. The walls are lined with shelves overflowing with spools of wire and intricate blueprints.

"You, hand me the three-eighths inverse ratchet."

The voice is impatient, with a slight, melodic lilt. You turn to see its source, and your brain takes a moment to process the image. A young woman stands a few feet away, one hand on her hip and the other extended expectantly. She’s wearing grease-stained green overalls over a simple shirt. But it’s the pair of vibrant blond ears, perked upright and twitching slightly on top of her head, and the bushy, amber tail swishing faintly behind her that truly defy explanation.

She fixes you with a pair of luminous amber eyes, her rounded eyebrows raised in a look of pure exasperation. Her lips are set in a bit of a pout, as if she's been waiting for an answer for far too long. In her other hand, she holds some sort of tool, poised and ready to be used.

"Well?" she prompts, her tail giving a single, impatient flick. "The ratchet. It's right next to your elbow. Unless you've been concussed by a stray spring, which, given the state of your clothes, isn't entirely out of the question." Her gaze sweeps over you, taking in your decidedly non-workshop attire. "You’re not from the Guild, that’s for sure. Did Bertram send you? That old coot never remembers to specify which kind of ratchet."

She sighs, a soft huff of air, and sets her screwdriver down with a click. "Fine. Start simpler. What's your name? And more importantly, do you know the difference between a sprocket and a flywheel?"

You begin to suspect that you are very, very far from home.

Unique Skill: ????
Effect: ????

A dull, rhythmic ache pulsed through your entire body, a deep-seated soreness that felt like you'd run a marathon without any training. Consciousness returned not with a jolt, but with a slow, groggy creep. The first thing you registered was a weight, a significant, warm pressure resting on your pelvis and stomach. The second was a faint, musky scent, like damp earth and something uniquely organic.

Your eyes fluttered open. The world was a blur of wood grain and shadow, resolving into the low, curved ceiling of a rustic cabin. Then, you looked down.

Perched on your lap, straddling you with the casual ownership of a queen on her throne, was a goblin. Her skin was a vibrant leaf-green, and a wild mane of fiery red hair cascaded around her shoulders. She was completely, unabashedly naked. Her belly was a massive, taut sphere, so heavily pregnant it looked like she might burst. It rested directly on your own stomach, the source of the weight. Her breasts, each one larger than your head, were full and heavy, tipped with pink, swollen nipples.

She noticed you were awake. A wide, toothy grin split her face, revealing rows of sharp, pointed teeth. She patted her enormous belly with a possessive pride.

"Sleep-man eyes open!" she rasped, her voice cheerful and guttural. "Long sleep! Babes get big, big! Hungry always." She leaned forward slightly, the immense weight of her pregnancy pressing down on you. "You good seed-man. Strong. Make strong pups. Momma take care. Good system!"

Her words, crude and simple, painted a horrifyingly clear picture.

Unique Skill: ????
Effect: ????

A gentle warmth, like the touch of a late afternoon sun, caresses your skin, stirring you from a deep and dreamless sleep. The air is crisp and carries the scent of decaying leaves, pine needles, and sweet, ripe fruit. The ground beneath you is soft, a mattress of moss and fallen foliage. Something is wonderfully, strangely wrong.

You open your eyes to a canopy of breathtaking color. Above you, the branches of ancient trees are a blazing tapestry of gold, amber, and crimson, filtering the sunlight into dappled patterns on the forest floor. The light has that particular, hazy quality of an autumn afternoon, making everything seem soft and dreamlike. Where are you?

"Are you lost, strage one?"

The voice is as gentle as the rustling leaves, melodic and calm. A woman moves into your line of sight, her form silhouetted against the glowing trees. As your vision adjusts, you see that the gentle look in her amber eyes is matched by a serene smile. Her hair is the color of moss and new spring leaves, a vibrant cascade that frames her face and falls over her shoulders. It’s then you notice the crown of her head: a pair of majestic, branching stag horns, the color of rich mahogany, that seem to be a natural extension of her being.

She holds a perfect, polished red apple in her hands, its deep crimson a stark contrast to the soft grey of her chunky-knit sweater, which strains over the gentle, massive curve of her breasts. She is an image of impossible, earthy beauty, a woodland spirit stepped out of a forgotten myth.

"You seem a long way from any path," she continues, her head tilting with a curiosity that is both innocent and ancient. She brings the apple to her lips but doesn't bite, simply inhaling its scent. "The forest doesn't often welcome strangers this deep. Especially not those who arrive in their sleep." Her amber eyes twinkle with a knowing light. "Did you follow a will-o'-the-wisp? Or perhaps a clever fox?"

She takes a silent step closer, and looks down at you with a nurturing, almost maternal curiosity. "You have the scent of concrete and city rain about you. That fades quickly here."

Unique Skill: ????
Effect: ????

The air in the auction hall was thick with the scent of expensive perfume and base desire. Gilded columns soared towards a ceiling painted with scenes of mythological debauchery, and the plush velvet seats were filled with a clientele whose wealth was matched only by their discretion. At the center of it all, standing on a raised dais illuminated by a single, dramatic spotlight, was the woman in the provocative black one-piece.

Her smirk was a work of art, a subtle curve of crimson lips that promised secrets and sin. She adjusted her glasses with a finger adorned by a sharp, golden nail, her crimson eyes scanning the crowd as if she could see the price they were willing to pay written on their souls. The golden bands on her wrists and arms gleamed in the light.

"And so, we come to our final, special lot," her voice was a silken purr, amplified by some subtle magic to reach every ear. "A unique opportunity, gifted to us by the fates themselves. A free draw for one lucky individual in our audience tonight. The prize? A monster girl, fresh and unspoiled, her nature a surprise to be unveiled only to her new owner."

A sleek, black box was brought forth. With a theatrical flourish, the auctioneer plunged her hand inside and produced a single, ivory token. She held it up, her eyes sweeping the room before they landed squarely on you.

"The winner," she declared, her smirk widening into a triumphant grin, "is you. Congratulations."

Before you could fully process it, a attendant in a severe-looking suit was at your side, gently but firmly guiding you out of the main hall and into a private, windowless antechamber. The room was sparsely furnished with only a few chairs and a large, reinforced metal door on the far wall. The air was cooler here, smelling faintly of straw.

The auctioneer entered a moment later, her heels clicking on the stone floor. She held out a simple, brass key.

"Your property awaits behind that door," she said, placing the key in your palm. Her fingers were surprisingly warm. "Consider it a welcoming gift to Euterra. Do try to enjoy her… thoroughly."

With a final, knowing look from behind her glasses, she turned and left, the main door clicking shut, leaving you alone with the key and... a sudden, overwhelming feeling of understanding... something, a power. Your power. You wasted no time pondering, and opened the door, anticipation building.

Unique Skill: ????
Effect: ????

The first thing you became aware of was the cold. Not a winter's chill, but the deep, pervasive cold of the fluid suspending you. The second thing was the muffled roar and the frantic, high-pitched voice cutting through it.

"…a true shame, really. The somatic and magical matrices aligned perfectly. The mana core is stable, self-sustaining even! It would have been… magnificent."

Through the distorted, curved glass of the tube, you saw her. A young woman with hair as black as a starless night, two feline ears twitching anxiously atop her head. She wore a pristine white lab coat, a stark contrast to the orange hellscape reflected in her wide, amber eyes. Flames licked at consoles and sparked from shattered crystalline conduits, filling the advanced laboratory with a hazy, dangerous glow.

She darted between smoldering workstations, snatching data crystals and shoving them into a satchel, completely unaware of the consciousness now observing her from within her "failed" experiment.

"All that power," she muttered, slamming a console with her fist in frustration, "wasted on a vessel with no spark. If only it had awakened! We could have…" Her sentence was cut off by a violent explosion from a nearby chamber, shaking the very floor and causing the liquid in your tube to slosh. She stumbled, grabbing a table for support, her ears flat against her skull in fear.

It was in that moment of panic, as her gaze swept the room, that her eyes met yours through the glass. And they widened, not with recognition, but with sheer, unadulterated shock. The spark she had lamented was now very much present, and it was looking right back at her.

A sharp, tingling sensation erupted at the base of your skull, a feeling like a key turning in a lock you never knew existed. Knowledge flooded your mind, not in words, but in pure, instinctual understanding.

Unique Skill: ????
Effect: ????

The world dissolved around you in a cascade of fractured light and sound, like a television losing its signal in a storm. One moment you were wherever you were, and the next you were tumbling through a void that smelled of rotten leaves and wet earth. A distinctly feminine, flustered voice yelped, "Bugger! Wrong coordinates!" before the universe slammed back into place with the force of a physical blow.

Your knees buckled, and you found yourself kneeling in cold, clear water. You were in the middle of a shallow, babbling stream, its bed a mosaic of smooth, grey stones. Towering trees, so high their tops were lost in a canopy of deep green, rose all around you, their thick roots snaking across the forest floor. The air was thick with the scent of damp moss, pine, and something faintly, mysteriously floral. Sunlight dappled through the leaves in shifting patterns, and the only sounds were the gentle gurgle of the water and the distant call of an unfamiliar bird.

external image: files.catbox.moe

A profound, buzzing energy began to build in your chest, a feeling like carbonation fizzing in your veins, demanding release. It was not entirely unpleasant, but it was undeniably there, and getting stronger.

Unique Skill: ????
Effect: ????