The Obsidian Nexus loomed before Luke, its jagged spires radiating dark energy that pulsed in rhythm with his own heartbeat. He approached it with measured steps, his crimson eyes gleaming as the system interface materialized before him. For a moment, he allowed himself to marvel at the structure’s alien beauty, its ominous hum resonating like a promise of power.
“Control the shadows,” Luke murmured under his breath, his lips curling faintly. “And you control everything.”
Rows of options flickered into view—tiered lists of units, each with their own strengths, weaknesses, and roles. The potential was immense, but Luke’s thoughts lingered on a lesson learned long before entering Aethel. Strength without purpose was chaos. Fear and manipulation, on the other hand, could bring order to chaos.
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Luke’s gaze swept over the options, his mind moving with the precision of a chess grandmaster. His eyes lingered on the first tier. The Dreadflame Archer stood out immediately, its ability to drain morale resonating deeply with his Shadow Puppeteer specialization. He pictured it on the battlefield—arrows slicing through the air, igniting dread in the hearts of enemies before the real battle began. The thought mirrored his own philosophy: victory wasn’t about brute force but breaking an opponent’s will.
“This one,” he murmured, selecting the archer. “Fear outlasts strength.”
The second tier offered a more nuanced choice. The Void Stalker called to him. A predator of the shadows, it was built for hit-and-run tactics—disruptive, elusive, and perfectly suited for sowing chaos. Luke allowed himself a faint smile. He could already imagine the confusion it would bring to enemy ranks, striking unseen and fading like a ghost.
The third tier brought no hesitation. The Infernal Puppeteer stood out like an echo of his own mindset: charm and control, turning enemies into tools for their own undoing. It wasn’t just about victory—it was about reaping it from the chaos others couldn’t contain. He selected it without a second thought, already envisioning the disruption it would unleash. Manipulation wasn’t just a tactic; it was the cornerstone of his power.
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As he moved to the next category, Luke allowed his mind to wander briefly, recalling the moment he had chosen the Crimson Covenant faction and, with it, the Incubi race. He had seen other options—factions steeped in righteousness, neutral powers promising balance—but they lacked ambition. The Covenant had whispered to him of something greater: domination through fear and desire. The Incubi, with their intoxicating allure and sharp-edged cunning, had sealed the deal.
“Why fight for loyalty,” he’d thought, “when you can have devotion?”
Returning to the interface, Luke selected the Void Crafter from Tier 1. Shadow Essence refinement wasn’t glamorous, but it was a necessity for mid-game transitions. In past games, he had underestimated the importance of resource management in favor of early aggression—a mistake he wouldn’t repeat here.
Tier 2 presented the Bone Scavenger. Its ability to harvest resources from the dead struck a chord, practical and grimly poetic. Losses didn’t faze Luke; they were just another opportunity. “Even death serves my plans,” he muttered, confirming the choice.
Tier 3 brought the Obsidian Architect, and Luke couldn’t suppress the satisfaction curling in his chest. Its fortifications spread corruption like creeping ivy, securing his territory while planting the seeds of influence in enemy lands. He imagined rivals discovering too late that their strongholds had already been compromised, their foundations cracking under the weight of his shadow.
“Subtle,” he thought, his fingers tapping to finalize the selection. “And inevitable.”
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Luke’s gaze shifted to the administrative units, where the foundation of his long-term dominance lay. The Whisper Broker was an obvious first choice from Tier 1. Espionage was the lifeblood of power, and its ability to gather intel would ensure no enemy moved without his knowing. He selected it without hesitation.
From Tier 2, the Infernal Magistrate promised efficiency and stability. Corruption was a double-edged sword, but with the magistrate smoothing its edges, Malefic Vale would thrive while others faltered. He gave a sharp nod, securing the unit.
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Finally, the Corruption Spreader from Tier 3 aligned perfectly with his vision. Luke chuckled softly, imagining rival factions stumbling into zones already claimed by his influence. “Why wage war,” he mused, “when the land itself fights for you?”
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Luke closed the interface with a flick of his hand, the faint glow of the Nexus fading as the selected units began to materialize within Malefic Vale. He turned toward his throne, his mind already weaving the next steps into motion.
The Pillar of Lust resonates faintly through the chambers, its influence beginning to extend under Seloria’s careful guidance. Neutral territories start to bend to its silent power, unrest easing and loyalty taking root, while rival plans subtly falter beneath its creeping reach. Along the eastern border, its dominance begins to spread, a slow and deliberate conquest weaving like unseen vines.
Luke’s gaze shifts to the darkened map before him, its inky void a stark reminder of the unknown lands surrounding Malefic Vale.
“Blindness is weakness,” he muttered. “This will not do.”
For a moment, his thoughts drifted to the real world, where the unknown wasn’t an expansive map waiting to be uncovered but a series of obstacles he had no control over. He recalled the tightness in his mother’s voice as she handed him the VR headset, a gift she could barely afford. She’d worked overtime for months, piecing together the means for him to enter a world where he could finally feel powerful. Her hands had trembled when she placed it in his.
“This isn’t just a game,” he reminded himself quietly, his voice steely. “It’s a chance to build something more.”
Luke straightened, his resolve hardening as he returned to the task at hand. He summoned Seloria Nightkiss to the throne room, her seductive presence a reminder of the power he wielded in this world. Her power to convert neutral territories aligned perfectly with his plans, and her loyalty—though pragmatic—was invaluable.
“Seloria,” Luke began, his voice measured and commanding, “continue your work along the eastern border. I want progress to accelerate.”
Seloria gave a knowing nod, her smile sharp with confidence. “Of course, my Lord. It’s already in motion.” Luke watched her retreat, his gaze shifting back to the darkened map. Every move advanced his design. Piece by piece, the world would realize it had always belonged to him.
Luke turned to Vaeron Voidcrafter, who stood silently in the corner, his clawed hands deftly sketching plans for new structures. The Incubus radiated an aura of dark precision, his movements efficient and purposeful, as if every gesture carried the weight of an unspoken promise.
“Vaeron, prioritize resource production,” Luke said. “The Void Crafter and Bone Scavenger are your focus. I want our resources flowing before we make any major moves.”
Vaeron inclined his horned head slightly, his voice smooth and assured. “It will be done, my Lord. Shadow Essence refinement will begin immediately.”
As Luke observed Vaeron at work, his gaze lingered for a moment longer. The Incubus’s calm efficiency reminded him of himself—or at least the version of himself he had always tried to be in the real world: methodical, unflinching, in control. There, control had been an illusion—a precarious balance maintained by his mother’s sacrifices and his own inability to change their circumstances. Here, in Aethel, it was different. Here, he dictated the rules.
He summoned Karyss Bloodlash and the Whisper Broker, their figures emerging from the shadows with an air of menace. Karyss tilted her head, her crimson eyes gleaming with predatory excitement, while the Whisper Broker’s form flickered faintly like a living shadow.
Luke fixed his cold gaze on Karyss. “The land around Malefic Vale remains unmapped. That’s your first priority. Scout every direction, starting with the east. I want every resource node, choke point, and potential threat cataloged.”
Karyss tilted her head, a crooked smile tugging at her lips. “And if I find something interesting?”
Luke’s voice was dry. “Report it. I’ll decide what’s interesting.”
Turning to the Whisper Broker, Luke’s tone grew colder, sharper. “You’ll follow where Karyss clears the path. Once we’ve mapped the areas, I want intel on potential rivals—factions, resources, or anything else worth exploiting.”
The Whisper Broker’s voice was a low hiss. “They’ll never know I was there, my Lord.”
Luke’s lips curled into a faint smile. “Good. But don’t mistake this for a simple errand. If you’re caught, you’re expendable.”
The shadowy figure bowed, vanishing into the air with a whisper of energy. Luke didn’t spare it another glance, already focused on the tasks ahead.
Until the land was mapped, Luke understood his progress would be limited. Without visibility, strategies were nothing but theories. His map would remain black until Karyss’s scouting unveiled the surrounding territories, feeding the data back into the system. The Whisper Broker would then follow up, planting seeds of manipulation in the cracks Karyss uncovered.
From his throne, Luke observed the darkened map hovering before him, its inky void a stark reminder of the unknown. He imagined his enemies stumbling blindly into his web of influence and felt a flicker of satisfaction. Yet beneath that satisfaction lurked a kernel of unease—a faint echo of his real-life struggles, where control had been elusive and fleeting.
“Every move must matter,” he murmured to himself. His voice softened as if speaking to the memory of his mother’s strained smile. “I’ll uncover this world piece by piece—and this time, they’ll realize it was already mine.”