I turn to glare at Olive. “How did you do that?”

Smiling toothily in place of an answer, the fox spirit instead turns to walk dignifiedly down the carpet before stepping to the side and gesturing to the double doors with a bow.

I can’t help but sigh.

I guess I should have expected this.

I follow the same path while Izahne and Omorth both move to flank me, tension rippling across our bonds. It’s a good feeling to have reliable subordinates, and I channel the confidence that brings into slamming the double doors open and stepping through.

What greets me on the other side is an immaculately clean, well decorated, and seemingly unoccupied throne room – other than by myself and my retainers, anyway. Which... somehow feels very familiar.

And so with a meaningful and practiced stride, I climb the stairs and sit in the central chair with a flourish of my robe.

...

Everyone else in the room is staring at me in shock.

Well, except for Olive. She followed an appropriate distance behind, and now that I’ve taken my place, she stands behind and to the side of myself.

The others though? Annoying. They should already know where they... they...

Nyx spontaneously materializes in a position mirroring Olive’s before shattering my sudden confusion.

“Yes, you’re doing it again. You know, the thing where you act like someone else completely?” she snarks.

I grit my teeth, but I can feel that she’s right. Fortunately, I don’t have much time to fret over the implications as a repetitive clatter begins echoing through the well-appointed room, followed by a booming voice.

“INVADER! BLASPHEMER! YOUR FATE, A THOUSAND DEATHS!”

A sudden silver flash of movement above me resolves to a trident in flight, promptly deflected by a flare of blue light where Olive appears, now bearing a long black dagger. She lands halfway down the stairs before me, followed by an unexpectedly soft sound – at least for how massive the thing standing before my handmaiden is.

The thing undulates and unfurls, showing the upper half of an incredibly well-built human covered in chitinous plates, attached to a long many-segmented body – each segment of which has its own set of chitinous legs. Stuck in the wall from where it was deflected, its trident rips itself free and flies back to its outreached hand.

“YOU DARE!” the voice booms, “BETRAYAL BEARS EXECUTION!”

“Oh shut up, you idiot,” I interrupt while rising to my feet. “Plead your case instead of leveling baseless accusations before I rip you apart myself.”

Izahne and Omorth frantically circle around the many-legged thing to flank Olive, forming some level of organized defense.

But I can already tell they won’t be able to contribute much.

While my quarry is busy angrily rattling its mandibles at me, I continue with a disappointed shake of my head. “You poor fool. I should kill you for raising a blade against me. Of course, you raise it believing you have any chance of defeating me; and yet you would struggle to merely survive, for within me I hold the light and ash of an entire civilization, the hope and despair of untold millions. Weigh this decision carefully, oh my dear fool, for those I deem to destroy shall have no second chance at rebirth. I am the oblivion from which even the gods will fail to escape!”

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

I step forward until I’m standing at the top of the stairs, my majestic gaze boring into it as I softly say, “You shall submit or be consumed; Do choose wisely.”

That’s the point where Pearl seems to have taken all she can take and finally breaks free of her shock and makes a run for the door. Abaris long since moved to the side of the room to conceal himself behind a pillar, but he’s still actively watching and has even started casting a spell to hold at the ready.

“Well put, I say,” the voice booms. And with a puff of black mist the big, segmented thing vanishes and, in its place, stands a short human in a dark red formal suit. “Shall we then?”

I blink at the sudden flare of blue light, finding myself reclined on an ornate divan separated from several shorter chairs by a table, on which Olive is already serving tea. When she finishes, omitting settings for my shocked party members standing in a half circle behind me, the fox spirit bows demurely and steps obediently to the side. The short human seated across from me promptly lifts its cup and saucer, crossing one leg over the other while daintily taking a sip.

“Well?” I ask without touching the tea. “Speak.”

“Ah, yes yes!” it says after finishing its long sip. “You see, I am unfortunately not acquainted with your esteemed personage. And, as my standing orders are to protect this space against all invaders, I am obligated to remove you from the premises. I do sincerely apologize for the intrusion, but... may I ask how precisely you were able to enter this place without drawing the attention of its many guardians?”

I sigh but make an effort not to allow the scattered ash to reach the table. “I have competent retainers. Continue.”

“Hmm,” it hums. “I see, I see. I certainly will make no pretense of misrecognizing those retainers – or at least one of them.”

“That attendant in particular indicated that another maintained this space. I assume that’s you?” I punctuate the comment with a brush from both Aura of the Unwound and Consume.

Its eyes harden for a moment before it responds. “I am indeed.”

“Which would mean your loyalty is to Astraea,” I flatly state. “Are you aware then of how her final battle ended?”

Hostility flashes across its gaze for a split second before the human regains its composure.

I chuckle and lock eyes with it. “I will take that as a ‘yes’. She was slain. By me.”

“You... seek to provoke me. Why?” it asks.

“I seek for you to recognize where you are, and who I am.” I gesture absentmindedly. “Olive, I will permit you to speak. Tell this fool who I am.”

“This one serves.” My attendant steps primly to my side and bows low. “It pleases this one to see another well. This other should be made aware that the other is in the presence of her mistress herself, her mistress within her majesty.”

Unsurprisingly, she’s met with a furrowed brow, though I’m not sure if it’s just because Olive is at least partially incomprehensible as usual.

“Thank you, Olive,” I say, and with a bow she returns to her previous position.

The well-dressed human appears lost in thought for a moment, before finally...

Taking another sip of tea.

Impatience getting the better of me, I ask, “Well? What happens now? You know your options.”

I manifest a feeler to snatch my cup from its saucer. Its contents smell earthy but somehow nostalgic. I absentmindedly indulge in it until my reverie is interrupted by a chuckle.

“She always did enjoy that one.”

I open my eyes and fix them on the speaker while it continues.

“I suppose that is good enough for now. Clearly, at absolute minimum, she is inside of you, if not a part of you. However,” it says as it leans forward, “I fail to see sufficient reason to trust you. And so! I shall duly observe until such time my suspicions are satisfied.”

An unbidden look of disdain crosses my face. “And the lowly worm would dare to name itself to judge my personage?”

“Ah.” Its composure slips.

“Let me make this simple. I don’t want this castle.”

I can practically feel Olive’s stare start to burn into me.

“Then, why are you here?” the human asks.

With a dismissive shrug I answer, “I’m here to rebuild the plane."

...

“That’s all?” it asks in disbelief.

“Yep.”

“And what, pray tell, are you going to do with the manaphages absolutely mobbing the place?”

I raise a hand, creating a few dozen of my spawn around the room, but before the human across from me can react, I performatively twirl a finger in a circle. The wraiths align into a circle and then a sphere before I promptly reabsorb them all.

“My kin are my kin. They are me, and I am them. I call and they answer.”

It’s silent for a moment before speaking again. “I see.”

That’s it?

I crank the pressure from my Aura and Consume all the way up.

“Your. Answer.”