“Tell me how to form a magic core, then,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest, a distrustful scowl plastered across my features.

Orpheus clicked his tongue. “I suppose a show of good faith isn’t a bad idea.” He thought for a minute before suddenly snapping his fingers. “An agreement must go both ways. I will not provide all your answers right now. No, I’ll answer only part of your question. I'll tell you the rest once I sense an Angellic roaming the worlds again.”

“Wyvern shit. I don’t believe you’ll tell me a god’s damn thing after I do what you ask. Except maybe break my neck again."

Orpheus shrugged. “Then go find some other primordial entity of the Main System to walk you through your limited education.”

I considered his words. It wouldn’t hurt to at least hear him out. If his offer still felt like wyvern shit, I didn’t need to follow through with bestowing the Angellic race on anyone. Either way, I might learn something about the Main System.

“Fine. Prove your worth with the partial answer.”

“I already did!” Orpheus exclaimed with a chuckle, flashing me a charming, delinquent smile. I growled in response. “I’m just joking, jeez. Remember, I’m only a remnant of Orpheus. I share most of his memories, but I’m not the same being he was when he died. I’m a much earlier version.” He glanced at me thoughtfully, then continued, “Okay, a half clue. Hmmm… Let’s see here.” Orpheus’ eyes shifted from left to right as if reading something. After a moment, I realized he was. I’d already experienced the ability of Systems to display information screens, so why wouldn’t Orpheus have access? “Ah, this should work,” he said, clicking on something I couldn’t see.

The familiar black box with red text appeared again.

[System Announcement: A foreign system is attempting to transfer information via System pathways. Transfer is temporarily blocked.]

[Allow?]

[Yes] / [No]

I reached for the black [Yes] to press it, but memories of Orpheus snapping my neck, breaking my spine, and tearing me limb from limb sprang to mind. I hesitated, pulling my hand back.

“Will this kill me?” I mentally asked the Desire System. Although I wasn’t fully aware what the Desire System was, or any System for that matter, it did seem to have some sort of symbiotic relationship with me, so I figured it would want to keep me alive.

Besides, I had to get answers somehow.

“Will this kill me?” I mentally asked the Desire System. Its ambivalent voice responded quickly, as though it had been waiting for the question.

[System Notice: System protections are in place. All invasive applications will be removed prior to approving the transfer.]

“What exactly is he trying to do?"

[System Notice: The foreign System is attempting to provide information to the Host. The Host will receive the information as foreign memories originating from the sender.]

[Possible negative side effects include memory strain beyond the Host’s capacity and invasive attempts by the Main System to interfere with the Desire System using System Viruses.]

“What are the chances of a System Virus accompanying the memories?"

[System Notice: Extremely low. The Host’s successful gamble against the Main System has barred it from interfering with the Desire System on any level, excluding proxy attacks.]

I exhaled, scowled at Orpheus, who was nonchalantly eating another apple, and slapped the black [Yes].

Pain exploded behind my eyes. I turned to curse Orpheus, but the world went black long before I had the chance.

_______________________________________________________________

I blinked.

“Orpheus!” a young woman called out.

I waved at her and flashed my most charming smile. “Kate!” The sight of her beautiful blue eyes caused my heart to skip a beat. Joy, sharp with loss, pierced me as her light brown hair bobbed in the sunlight as she ran toward me. The feelings didn't make any sense, though. Kate was right in front of me. I opened my arms and she fell into them, burying her face into my chest.

“I missed you so much,” she said, her voice muffled by my shirt.

I chuckled, stroking the top of her head and running my fingers between the smooth locks of her hair. “I missed you too, Kate.”

[System Warning: Identity merge detected. Detaching viewpoints and reestablishing independent thought.]

Kate remained in my arms even as a voice rang in my ears and something began to pull at my core. Panic surged in my chest as my arms tightened around her protectively. She looked up at me, her expression shifting—perhaps sensing something was wrong.

This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

I opened my mouth to warn her, to say anything, but no sound emerged. My voice betrayed me, leaving only silence as my lips moved uselessly.

Then, with an ear-splitting pop, I was torn from Orpheus’ memory. It felt as though my very essence had been split in two. I felt my identity, my soul, be ripped from Orpheus, and memories of who I was flooded back into my mind. I wasn't Orpheus. I was Lilith, Queen of Aedronir. I didn't even know who this Kate woman was.

I collapsed, pushing myself away from the body of Orpheus, who remained curled protectively around Kate. The pain and sorrow in my chest dissipated quickly as I caught my breath and scrambled to my feet. Whatever emotions I'd entertained about Kate while I was Orpheus were cast aside the instant I'd returned to myself, but the disorientation of the process took a while to shake off.

“What in the name of Ashwash is going on?” I shouted, jabbing a finger at Orpheus. But my finger sailed through him as if he wasn’t there.

[System Notice: Identity separation successful.]

[Enjoy the show.]

The show? Like a play?

I waved a hand through Orpheus, again finding nothing solid. I tried the same with Kate—no different.

I’m inside his memory, I realized, shivering as I recalled actually being Orpheus for that split moment. “Thanks for the help,” I muttered to the Desire System. Predictably, it didn’t respond.

“What’s going on?” Kate asked, her eyes filled with concern.

“The Main System is speaking to me,” Orpheus said, his eyes glazed over, their pitch-black depths tinged with an eerie white hue.

“It’s speaking to you directly? Right now?” Kate’s voice trembled. When Orpheus nodded, she immediately dropped to her knees, clasped her hands together, and pressed them to her forehead. “Praise God. Praise the God of our world. Praise the God of Idonite.”

Around us, people stopped what they were doing to adopt a similar prayer posture, murmuring the same three lines over and over.

“What does this have to do with magic?” I asked the illusions, not particularly caring about how many worlds the Main System had integrated. After my soul’s transference to Graedon, I already knew multiple worlds existed. Whether there were two or two hundred hardly mattered anymore. The novelty of new worlds had worn off long ago.

The illusions—memories, whatever they were—offered no answers.

As the prayer ritual concluded, Kate stood and resumed her conversation with Orpheus. Meanwhile, my attention was drawn to the world around me. Massive buildings loomed overhead, the smallest of them taller than the Duke’s Spire. Their reflective walls caught the yellow sunlight, dazzling my eyes and forcing me to look down.

I followed Orpheus and Kate to one of the structures, marveling as a transparent glass door slid open with a whoosh—seemingly of its own accord.

“How is that possible?” I murmured, stepping inside. Once the initial awe of the advanced surroundings wore off, I began to notice the mundane details: desks, documents, writing tools, and books piled high on shelves and littering tables. There was a single office-like desk stationed within the building's entryway, but it was currently unmanned.

“The System told you to come here?” Kate asked.

Orpheus nodded. “It said there’s a grimoire in the city library that would help with my progression to sainthood.”

“I still can’t believe you were chosen to attempt the Progenitor Sainthood.” Kate clutched Orpheus’ arm as he led her through what I assumed was a library.

“I’m not in the sainthood yet. You know the trials are nearly impossible to complete. Most die before they can complete them."

“I have faith in you, my love,” she replied, and I watched as Orpheus’ eyes sparkled. Not a sight I ever expected from the ten thousand year old bastard.

The couple settled at a secluded table in a far corner, surrounded by black and purple leather-bound books. Orpheus retrieved something from a tan leather bag—a peculiar foldable rectangular object. He unfolded it, placing it to his left. When he pressed a circular button on it, the thing lit up with shifting images and emitted a series of beeps.

A young boy, dressed in strange blue pants and a white shirt with an unfamiliar design, approached Orpheus, bowed, and handed him a thick leather-bound tome. Its red-carved cover depicted a man with three stars: one at his navel, one at his heart, and one centered on his forehead.

Kate’s eyes widened in alarm, her head snapping around as if she expected an imminent attack. “I should leave,” she said abruptly.

Orpheus’ hand shot out, gripping her arm before she could go. “It’s okay, Kate. The System has granted us both permission to read it.”

Her jaw dropped. “M-me too? Why?”

“I don’t pretend to understand the System’s will.” He released her arm and patted her seat. “Come, sit with me. This grimoire is called The Doctrine of Dantian Cores: Pathway to Infinity. My seniors said it was written by the Host himself.”

Still visibly shaken, Kate nodded and sat. I could still see fear and trepidation in her eyes, but there was also... excitement?

Leaning over Orpheus’ shoulder, I studied the tome. Despite not sensing energy or magic from it, power radiated from the object like the heat of the sun.

When Orpheus opened the book, the words on the first page erupted in searing white light, blinding me as they surged into my mind. The sensation was intoxicating yet horrifyingly invasive. Knowledge I’d never learned carved itself into my consciousness—not memorized, but known, as innate as breathing.

The light vanished as suddenly as it had appeared. Panting, the three of us sat in stunned silence, shuddering from the experience. It felt as though thousands of spiders had scuttled into my ears and nose to trample my brain.

“Wow,” Kate breathed, wiping sweat from her forehead. “That was… amazing.”

Not the word I would have used for that particular experience.

“Did you understand it?” Orpheus asked, closing the grimoire. “I know what it said, but not all of it felt… applicable to me.”

Kate nodded vigorously. “Some of it felt very specific—like it wasn’t meant for me to read it.”

I frowned. I understood all of it. Every word.

My hand drifted to my chest, brushing over my heart core.

“I guess you didn’t need fixing after all,” I murmured, picturing the silver sphere with its single ring. The divots weren’t injuries—they were docks for future necromantic energy tendrils. Trying to heal them would only weaken my core, as the energy would carve them out again and again. If the information the tome gave me could be believed, the divots would harden with use and become part of my core to allow a better flow of all negatively attributed energies, like necromancy. If left alone, it would strengthen my core, not weaken it.

The odd world, Orpheus, and Kate spun away like I was being pulled into a vortex. I was pulled wordlessly from that reality until I was falling through the Nothingness.

When I opened my eyes, I was seated in the two-person bed of the Duke’s spire once again. Orpheus’ black core weighed heavily in my hand. I released a deep, shuddering breath as I stored it within the ring and uncrossed my legs to lay flat on the soft sheets, utterly spent.

“What in all the hells…”