That Emilie woman was a Harvey Dent, a top-shelf torture machine on the outside, but a bonus mom in her core. No wonder why Stevie Wonder even wanders due to her mood shift. At that moment, I thought that I was a rod struck with lightning and received an overwhelming amount of energy. But this kind of drama is only for the rarest moments.

In the shadows of grandeur, Quimora glided through the mansion's hallowed halls, not as a potential queen, but as an eternal servant. Every whisper that caressed her ears was a dagger to her heart, each word a reminder of her lowly status. Yet, beneath us, Quimora harbored those insults within her soul, a secret rebellion against the cruel tongues that sought to break her.

Quimora found solace only in the tears that flowed freely each night. Sleep remained a distant desire, as her mind spun tales of sorrow and longing. With each tear that glistened on her cheeks, Quimora released the burdens of her soul, painting a canvas of heartache upon her pillow. At that moment, I realized that I couldn’t bear just watching her.

As an outside act, Emilie, the head of the servants, handles punishments without holding back. With her team of personal guards, different kinds of weapons touched the servants’ skin with brute force. She is always assured that the one she is punishing stays alive. Words come out to be true – You will grow bruises every single day.

However, as I continued to spectate her everyday torture, I noticed something strange. With each rising sun, her bruises faded like whispers in the wind, a pace far swifter than any mortal's healing. The canvas of her skin was delicately restored a testament to her extraordinary resilience. I, unaware of Quimora’s inherited ability, revealed a clue that her ability was related to her regeneration.

However, it took years to prove that I was wrong.

The threats against Quimora continued unabated. Among them stood the empire king Skade, whose menacing gaze held the power to plunge Quimora's family into peril.

Skade delivered his ultimatum, threatening to unleash a storm of destruction upon Quimora's loved ones, leaving her an important figure to secure her family’s survival. Even though the words he threw are crap, I already expected Quimora to follow his orders blindly. For her reasons for entering this hell, she never had a choice.

One night, as time's sands marked a year since Quimora’s peculiar employment began, Emilie ventured into Quimora's chamber. Gone was the vibrant energy that once radiated from her dear companion. Quimora lay upon her bed, her gaze fixed upon the moon's silvery reflection in the windowpane. The moonlight seemed to mirror her clouded mind, unable to find solace in sleep.

Emilie sat on the only chair in the room and asked, “Are you alright? I’m sorry for everything. This plan is essential.”

“I understand, Miss Emilie,” Quimora replied with her voice that lost energy. “I don’t think I can do this anymore. I’m not cut out to be the savior of our family. I just want to see them.”

Emilie gazed and paused before she uttered the news to her. “For the succeeding trials, you will undergo harsher penalties. The empire king initiated this solely for you after knowing that your family escaped from the empire’s supervision.”

Quimora sat up on her bed with widened eyes and asked with a high-pitched voice, “What do you mean escaped!? Where are they now? Are they safe?”

Emilie sighed, “Last week, your family already decided to leave the land that was passed to them. The empire now handled the land, sabotaging the previously employed farmers. They marked your father selfish for leaving unannounced and catching all the punishments he should have. If I knew where they were, the information would come from the empire’s files. And as long as they don’t, they’re safe.”

Quimora turned her gaze back to the window and sighed. “I don’t know if I should be glad. I suppose I should feel sad. However, none of those feelings came to me.”

Emilie grasped Quimora’s hand with warmth. Quimora gasped at her with dilated pupils. “I understand you, Quimora. It may take time, but I can assure you that we’re already working on a way to find a loophole in this hell. Your anticipated cooperation will be your patience. Like you, I should’ve left this place years ago. After all, I’m the only abandoned spy to free the empire and take the life of the Deathbringer.”

Find this and other great novels on the author's preferred platform. Support original creators!

Deathbringer, a name rarely encountered due to strict regulations, is referred to as an insult to the empire’s king. Normally, if one utters the word in public, there’s no chance that they will escape the blades of the guillotine. It is an alias used by the enemy countries in pursuit of assassinating the only man who destroys the economy and massacres people.

The other servants used the alias of ‘Bug’ due to the similarity of Skade’s face to a pest. This bug managed to overtake neighboring countries, caused unsuccessful rebellion, and made all illegal things reachable by hand. Only a real bastard would have the dignity to stand after dethroning himself from humanity.

As per my limited grasp of Quimora’s senses, I couldn’t find any more information even if I wanted to. I could only trust my observation skills and awareness. This would be a tough game.

Emilie told us to be patient about the escape, but for the next seven years, I have no idea what she was specifically doing. It didn’t take long for me to realize that she was only using sweet words to manipulate Quimora.

I started to conclude that she was a spy caught or sold from another country and climbed through the ranks of the mansion… But for every claim I tried to formulate, it ended with a ‘suppose.’

When the clumsy kid that controls my body accidentally wandered to a place where she shouldn’t be, it was the only time I got the opportunity to discover the pieces of the puzzle. Emilie tasked Quimora to clean the retainer’s room. Skade has a retainer who is tasked with managing military and diplomacy.

The retainer’s room was always disgusting, where pieces of paper always flew and scattered. His room’s ceiling already has cobwebs. He only stays in this room when he’s not going home, which is always the case, or if someone is tasked to clean the place. Unusually, he’s not here at this time.

The schedule is right. I don’t think Emilie set us up to get caught and die. I suppose something urgent happened in the castle. If I only had control of this body, I already run to plant a prank on the throne room’s doors.

Luckily, this dumb girl is as curious as me. Usually, the retainer would compile all of his scattered documents first before we clean his room’s molds. This will be the first time that we’ll get a hold of his documents. “Schrodinger’s… Project?” Quimora tilted her head and asked.

I’ve read it with her for minutes, and I already registered the document’s contents in my mind. Project Schrodinger is a lone wolf’s idea to eradicate all evil. All sinners will be placed inside a box, and everything in this box will never be seen again. Quimora dropped the document on the first page, but the succeeding pages may be the plan’s contents.

Which Robin Hood would do this? And how did they get the name Schrodinger? This isn’t a coincidence. If it’s possible to transport my soul across universes, it would also be in someone's case. However, would they be reincarnated as a spectator as well?

As Quimora cleaned the first set of documents, she encountered another paper containing the legends of the amethyst. Currently, in the middle of the Dark Lair forest lies the tombstone of the ‘dead’ propagator of Entropy. It requires fourteen Magic Stones in different perfect shapes to revive the lost propagator who shouldn’t exist… I suppose.

The existence of the perfectly triangular amethyst was proven across the world when it was sent to the Obsidian Asylum, a prison surrounded by a 30-meter wall and the ocean, completely isolated from land. With high-profile prisoners and skilled guards patrolling the place, the kingdom that discovered the amethyst guaranteed that the disastrous propagator wouldn’t step on land again.

The belief of Entropy states that time clones the growth of trees that start with a seed grows with multiple branches and ends with another seed. Since the world is biased through the belief in Finality, in which the future is already pre-determined and plotted, the belief in alternating timelines has already been banned. This results in the believers being punished through lifetime imprisonment or death.

This universal law is based on the mythological tales where the propagators, commonly known as gods, excluded Entropy due to familial issues, but it’s the play that they supervised due to the destruction of the belief. Entropy’s ability causes bias to favored outcomes, disorder to natural phenomena, and whatever abnormalities they could come up with.

After exclusion, the other propagators planned to kill the propagator of Entropy. However, due to a battle of many-to-one, their target vanished like bubbles. Though death is the propagator’s aftermath, the uncertainty of other propagators becomes contagious.

If a veil of ignorance didn't shroud my understanding of this epic tale, I would embrace sympathy for the perpetrator. Yet, fortune smiles upon me, for my tongue remains silent, granting me the freedom to retreat to the sanctuary of my thoughts. As Quimora's slender fingers flipped the parchment to its final page, the embers of pity within me transformed into an inferno of righteous anger.

The propagator’s name… is Roze.