Elinor’s mind snapped into focus, but something felt off. The sensation of a chain snapping steadied her thumping heart, and an oscillation pulsated within her entire soul, dredging out something deep within her. Breathing in and out at an even tempo, she opened her eyes to a pure white space surrounded by darkness.

Pushing herself up, her unsteady gaze settled on a radiant blonde-haired figure—practically a goddess by her illumination—who sat on an opulent throne not too far away, staring right back at her; the strange part, it was herself, and she was hurt.

Elinor scrambled back, freezing as she came to the edge of the endless abyss. Her divine twin’s feminine voice brought Elinor out of her revere as the goddess’ focus turned from her to the gashes marring her pristine skin and simple, slim-fitted white dress.

“Good morning, princess,” she said in a mocking way, examining the droplets of shimmering ivory blood that was brighter than the platform they were on; a small pool was forming underneath her seat. “Well, isn’t this an unusual way to wake up, wouldn’t you agree, my less attractive doppelganger?”

“Right…” Her mind catching up, she ignored the damage to her twin’s body and hastily looked around to orient herself. “Who are you… and why do you have my face?!”

Only darkness encompassed the large alabaster pillar they were on, and a hot pressure erupted in Elinor’s chest, making her wince at the intense pain. Although, oddly, it didn’t impair her mind or cause her to panic; it was as if she were experiencing it secondhand.

Her gaze fixated on the blonde in front of her; somehow, it felt like she had known this annoying girl for an eternity, but she certainly hadn't; it was the most surreal feeling she’d ever had.

Doing a quick check, she couldn’t find any damage to her own simple, slim-fitted black dress or cuts in her skin; the changed clothes were a red flag, and the fact her double was in white, and she black, instinctively made Elinor feel a certain way. Her twin didn’t seem all that perturbed by their unnatural meeting by her casual shrug.

“Hmm. Only stating the facts,” the blonde crisply said, leaning back and crossing her legs to run her perfect fingernails along a break in her dress and skin, mouth creasing with mild agitation. “My question would be, why am I in such a poor condition? As to who I am? That… is a wonderful question, which, to my utmost frustration, I do not have the answer to.”

Elinor kept the savaged goddess in her sight; even while cut and bleeding, she held an elegant poise as if it came naturally to her. It budded something within Elinor; gradually, she came to the conclusion that this unusual ‘doppelganger’ with this void-surrounded area had to be a dream.

Her thumping heart eased as she slowly rose to her feet, foggy mind reflecting on the last things she remembered. “Uh-huh… You don’t know who you are? Heh. Okay, I’m dreaming. Maybe I should have drank a bit more water; the heat in that bus really must have gotten to me.”

Her twin grimaced. “Eesh. I certainly hope I am not a dream. Although, maybe it would be better that way, considering my state. Haaa,” she sighed deeply. “I fear I may not be able to pull through this,” she whispered in a quieter voice, shifting a little to follow her blood’s path to the platform.

Elinor hesitantly chewed on the inside of her cheek as she mirrored the blonde, watching the pool of silvery liquid below her twin expand. She’d never had a dream so visceral, and she’d had a few intense nightmares in the past, but the pressure against her feet on the pillar made her question if this was something imaginary.

Oddly, the most frustrating part of this entire ordeal was the gut feeling she had of this goddess; she knew her from somewhere, and Elinor did not like her. They were alike, but nothing alike, in every way, and looking at the blonde was like seeing some sick reflection. Yet, there was also a strange pull within her soul that didn’t want to see her die that made her teeth grind.

“Mmh. You really don’t know who you are?” she asked, moving forward to stand two meters away. “Ugh. This is so confusing!”

“Imagine that!” Her twin snickered thoughtfully, resting her elbow on her thigh and head against the back of her hand. “I wholly agree with the confusion bit. Why don’t you sit, and we can figure this out together, my ‘apparent’ most hated enemy.”

“You too, huh?” Elinor shook her head with slight exasperation. “Subtle. I kind of feel the same. You remind me of Jacy from fifth grade: never shy about expressing she doesn’t like me.”

“Oh? Hehe. Sounds like we’d get along,” the goddess mused. “Huh. And let there be light,” she added, her shining, aquamarine irises directing Elinor to multi-hued rays that began to swirl around them into infinity.

“All I seem to know is that I just woke up bleeding all over the place, along with the unfortunate state of my gown and… a rather dreary-looking clone—no disrespect—lying in front of me. It took you long enough to wake up. I thought I’d be dead before saying hello.”

“Right…” Elinor mumbled, folding her arms and following soft trails of colors that sparked around them with her eyes. She had no idea how she was supposed to sit, as the blonde had offered, unless at her feet on the ground, which she would not do.

“Would it kill you to be a little less, mmh… irritating? I already had to suffer through an entire day in the jungle heat, sweating my makeup off and smelling bad BO. The last thing I need is another wave of nausea in my dreams.”

Her radiant twin made a dismissive gesture with her free hand. “I value candidness over your prim and proper way of order, Priss.”

“Priss?” Elinor grunted, rolling her eyes. “It’s not the first time someone’s called me that; real original nickname.”

“Meh-hehe. If the heel fits the foot, as they say. Who? Haha. I couldn’t tell you. In any case, I get the feeling you are an empress of some kind—empriss—priss… seems to fit! No? I’m hilarious.”

“Ha-ha.” She returned her tight gaze to her twin’s damaged skin, yet, something about her statement of being an empress lingered in her mind. “Are you sure you should be making jokes when you’re dying, Your Majesty? I do kind of hate you… but I don’t want to see you die. Ugh. Why do I feel so frustratingly calm right now?”

The goddess doppelganger streamed out a long puff of air and shrugged. “I appreciate the concern, my mortal nemesis, but I don’t see you being able to do much for me, Priss. A bandaid is not going to help, and shouldn’t I have died by now… goodness, look at this at my feet; it could fill a pool. Hehe.”

A small smile lifted the corner of Elinor’s lips. “You just want to chat before you die?”

“Who said I was content with dying?” the blonde huffed, fussing a bit with her dress to present herself a little more decently. “I know I am someone important, and I cannot afford to die like this. So, until another option is present, why not enjoy ourselves in this little dance?”

She paused and made a swift gesture at her throne. “Oh, a tip! On the bright side, I learned quickly that wanting something tends to bring it to life in… whatever place this is that we are currently held prisoner in. Hehe. Convenient, am I right? So… pull up a chair. What is your story, my dreary-dressed Priss?”

Elinor’s own mind was filling with thoughts—not her own—providing shadows of answers as the swirling beams of light tinted their black environment, now colliding to create fireworks of color that settled into emerald hues.

They fell around them into the abyss, and Elinor’s hand went to her breast as she summoned her own goth-inspired throne; it worked, yet her focus was on every eruption around them that sent a tremor through her core, revealing a rather shocking truth. This wasn’t a dream, and she couldn’t deny it, which made her question the local’s ominous crystal.

“I’m… dying, as well?”

Her doppelganger’s hand went to her mouth. “Oh? The twist! I was thinking about more of a story about your life, though, if I’m being honest, but sure, let’s dive into this depressing topic. We’re both in a sinking ship, hmm?”

Elinor felt like she’d been punched in the gut at the news, but a cold resolve was welling up within her heart, stabilizing her. Her life flashed before her—the cheer camps, gymnastics, family parties, friends, Tanner, and years with her parents—condensing into a single dot.

She drew in her bottom lip, absently watching it drift away to reveal a bottomless void of untapped… something, and in the next instant, everything expanded again, displaying the entirety of her sixteen years on this Earth, including childhood.

Her goddess twin’s gentle hum drew her mind back. “Can we not space out? We’re kind of on a clock. Humph… Well, this doesn’t look good.” The blonde’s gaze lifted to the fireworks overhead, where emerald butterflies were now hovering down to land on the platform. “Butterflies? I see. We seem to be dying from this… thing that has attached to us; two Seeds we are both… melding with?”

Clearing her throat, Elinor settled into her chair, building panic quelled by the ice flooding her veins as her mother and father’s faces fixated in her mind, and to calm her nerves, she discovered a rather appropriate name for this double of hers with liquid-gold locks.

The spark of genius lifted the corners of her mouth. “Okay, Butter. I am not going to leave my parents to collect a corpse. So… options?”

Her doppelganger’s voice and twinkling, aquamarine irises became jaded, following the few creatures hovering around the platform. “Butter… short for butterfly and me melting. Really? Wait, did you subconsciously discover me a way out of my inevitable end?”

“Did I?” Elinor hummed, tapping her fingernails against the arm of her throne. “Personally, I just thought it made perfect sense: your liquid-like blonde hair, aura, heh, melting—as you put it—hmm, personality.”

“And what’s wrong with my personality?” the goddess returned a light glare. “I think I am quite a lovely person to be around.”

“Mmh. Let’s just say… you seem rather fatty—no offense—it’s just something I try to limit in my diet, but I also can’t do without.”

Her doppelganger’s eyes widened in surprise. “A compliment, or sorts… And from you? My, you must be sick and dying—delirious, I’d pose. Well, Priss… I fear my only option is to, mmgh… take on the form of one of these butterflies coming down. It’s a rather depressing thought, if I’m being honest.”

“Mhm,” Elinor pressed, not bothered by the fluttering creatures now replacing the fireworks to swarm her. It was becoming clearer that this needle-like hatred of this goddess twin was more of a memo than anything proactive; she couldn’t deny it was more fun to have her around than not. “I’m all ears, sparkly me. What have you discovered?”

“Fatty, hmm… Now, who’s being rude?” the blonde muttered before releasing a long stream of air. Hesitantly rising to her feet, she turned her sight to a flurry of emerald butterflies descending upon them. “So… I realized these fiends are all Death Energy… Why on all that is holy would you fill yourself with such a necrotic force? Well, that is beyond me at the moment.”

“Imagine that,” Elinor giggled, reflecting and mirroring her earlier statement. “We’re in the same club!”

“Most unfortunate, indeed…”

The wave of flapping Death Energy continued to swarm the platform, cycling them like sharks that smelled blood, and Elinor reached out to let a butterfly land on her finger, unconsciously drawn to the force. It dispersed, sending a jade-colored pulse up her veins and into her heart, drawing out a single phrase.

“I’m turning into a Mythickin Lich Empress. Uh, well… this is a bit sudden. Why am I not that scared?” The answer came from the next butterfly that landed on her shoulder. “Ah! A refining tool of the trade; a Feat of the Empress Branch in my Base Feats… [Imperial Majesty X]. Is this like… a game; thoughts, Butter?”

“Haaa-hehe. Well, it seems you are having a better time adapting to your Seed than I,” Butter mumbled, running her fingers through her liquid locks. “I can’t say I have any recollection of games that fit that context, but I’m happy you have a lead. Ugh. How I despise you,” the goddess groaned while following the increase in butterflies.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

Elinor sat straighter with a grin, allowing more Death Energy to land and absorb into her. “Oh? You must tell me what I did to inspire that reaction. I’m, heh, getting butterflies.”

“Ha-ha… butterflies. You’re just, mm-hmm… divine!” Butter sarcastically retaliated. “You’ve started the process of adapting to it without me—not that I have the strength to fuse with my own just yet, but a little warning would have been appreciated. Also, why did it have to be butterflies… Why couldn’t it be, I don’t know, a cute and ferocious kitty or… a bull?”

“Bull? Interesting choice.” For some reason, Elinor found her disgruntled shifts and comments extremely amusing, making a giggle bubble up in her chest. “Beggars can’t be choosers, Butter, much less melting doppelgangers. If you need my help, then I’m open to it, so long as you’re not trying to take my soul or anything. Heh. Not that you’re strong enough at the moment.”

“He-he. How nice of you to remind me. I’d prefer that option if it were available, but, as you so charmingly put it… I’m far too weak to attempt anything that desperate,” she grumbled, arms crossed under her bleeding bust. Her rosy lips pulled in while delivering a salty, judgmental glare in her direction. “Also, spoken like a real priss… My Depressive Empress, and must you call me Butter?”

Elinor loved to see her twin squirm, somehow moving quite smoothly on her path to an area clear of the creatures, despite her wounds. “You don’t see me complaining about being called Priss; I rather enjoy it, actually.”

“Hilarious…” she breathed, eye twitching as she glanced away. “I suppose I was the first one to initiate this little pissing contest, so… I’ll allow it, and do not mistake my wording!” she added as Elinor flashed her teeth.

“Come now, Butter, let’s not be crude! Huh. Come to think of it, when did I start talking like this? Ah, that’s right, it’s connected with [Imperial Majesty], but the [Monarch of Death I] Base Feat also has a sway…”

She paused as fractured information fed back to her brain; the abilities came to her when she asked for answers, but it was as if there was interference, scrambling much of the signal. Not having a lot of success deciphering it, she settled on what she did know, which was already enough to make her doubt reality again.

“These abilities are so bizarre. Anyway, I’m a Lich Empress—Priss; Empriss—heh, it’s cute. Thank you for the nickname, Butter.”

Butter had reached the end of the platform, her mouth a line while glaring at the swarm nearing her; the blood she left was already tinting an emerald green as this new force consumed it.

“Lich Empress, huh… Well, isn’t this perfect? It seems if I want to survive the crushing pressure of this Seed on top, worming its way into my breast—heh, quite the imagery, might I add—and your corrupting Death Energy below… I must be bunk buddies with you and take a back seat, my mortal nemesis. What misfortune. And you’ve doomed us both by welcoming in this madness unless I help you. Haaa-hehe. Yay.”

The dazzling rain of sparkling emerald butterflies filled her vision, filling her with knowledge of the transformation happening within her, but one amusing spark stood out from the rest, radiating an aurelian glow. Her brilliant, internal twin goddess—the golden light in the emerald sea—had hidden in the Link Feat [Butterfly I] to escape her fate, and Elinor allowed her twin into a serving role in her new empire.

Elinor couldn’t constrain her laughter; it felt so unlike her, yet she couldn’t stop. “Welcome to the Empire, my High Monarch—Butter, Celestial High Monarch of the Evening Star—you actually turned into a butterfly?! Well, haha, how the mighty have fallen.”

She could practically feel the unamused stare from her transformed twin’s voice. “Hmm-hmm. Monarch of the Evening Star? Thank you for the rather welcome and obvious discovery, Priss… You have selected butterflies as your symbol, so… I didn’t exactly have the most diverse selection. Have you noticed your own changes?”

“Hmm. No, not all of them, to be honest; heh, I was a bit preoccupied with laughing at you,” Elinor returned, glancing down to see her black locks turning white and jade pulses running through her veins. “So, my fatty bunk buddy, what happens next?”

The chime in Butter’s voice returned with a vengeance as the butterfly’s glow brightened. “Oh, that’s easy, Priss. You die.”

Elinor blinked, and the world snapped into focus. Her senses were dulled, but she was a tad surprised the near pitch-black space she occupied was completely visible as if daylight. The heat in her chest intensified, though didn’t bother her all that much; instead, she examined the space around her.

She still wore her silky shirt and soft black shorts, yet her hands appeared to be bound at her back, which should have prompted a panicked response. On the contrary, a small, curious smile lifted her lips.

Butter? she internally called, forcing herself to her knees and shifting her head to throw back her unbound white hair. It hadn’t been a dream.

“Not two seconds awake, and you’re already bothering me, Priss? Ugh. I am not enjoying this body.”

Vision centered on her bare thighs, an emerald light flowed down her veins to her knees, shifting to a chartreuse green before fading; the light fluctuated with the rhythm of her heart.

Elinor suppressed a hum, listening closely to her surroundings; obviously, she’d been kidnapped, and perhaps she was injected with something or high, but her mind had never been clearer.

Hands bound, Death Energy corroding my living body, and possibly kidnapped in a foreign country… Perfect. How about you, Butter?

“I am rather…”

Wait… maybe we should hold off on the complaining until we’re safe, Elinor teased, making her High Monarch sniff.

“I see. Only the empress can waste time with obvious discomforts… Might I lodge a complaint with management? Well, I have discovered something of use…”

Hehe. Complaint taken into consideration. Are you telling me you actually have a use other than for my entertainment, Ms. Evening Star?

Her focus darted to a shimmering sparkle that came from her pocket.

“Ugh… It’s so tight; no, do not move, Priss—you’re squishing me with your thigh!”

Are you calling me fat, Butter? Elinor snickered, trying to shift in a way to give her wiggle room, yet her cheer dampened slightly upon seeing her crumbling skin; her body was beginning to decay, and she needed somewhere to put her Death Energy-infused spirit. Well, this isn’t good. Can you fly?

“Finally!” her twin snarled, making it out of her pocket and shivering her wings. “Fly? I only just became a butterfly—losing my gorgeous golden locks, might I add—and you wish for me to just fly?”

And I’m desiccating. We all have our problems here—and I’m supposed to be the priss—have you tried?

“Well, heh, sure… why don’t I give it a go…” Butter spread her glorious, tiny wings, lifted them up, and beat them down with power to dive straight into the dust by Elinor’s leg. “Oof!”

Uh-huh… What happened to that elegance?

“You… are the worst. Scoot around so I can get to the back of you—such a pain—you have no idea how difficult it is to move four wings—four—and six legs! Oh, I think I’m going to throw up… Why can I taste the dust?! Bleh! And don’t squish me! It was hard enough to gather what little energy I had to create this body.”

Elinor smiled and carefully shifted to allow the butterfly to crawl up her fingers to the zip-ties. What’s the plan?

“Hmm-hmm. I’m glad you asked…”

Clearing her throat and watching the jade-hued light in her veins intensify with her disintegrating chest, Elinor tried to find a bit of humor by guessing what her spiritual bunk buddy was doing via the knowledge that had been somehow downloaded into her brain by this ‘Seed’ Butter spoke about.

Let me guess… since you’re drawing from me to rebuild your strength by attaching yourself to my [Butterfly] Link Feat, you’re able to use the necrotic element of [Life Tap I]—the Feat [Butterfly] it is currently attached to—to eat through the bonds.

A wicked snicker came from her butterfly twin. “Hmm-hmm. Allow me to correct you on this topic of your powers, Priss! [Life Tap] can only work against ‘living’ things, heh, imagine that, so I’ll be eating through something else.”

Elinor’s expression salted as she felt the drain; Butter was filling her Death Pool with her own dwindling life essence. Brilliant… So, Butter, you really are fatty. Not only are you using me to keep yourself stable, but you’re killing me faster.

“A little late on the uptake, Priss,” Butter chuckled. “I’ve already used your [Phylactery I] Feat to craft my own house in one of the diamonds in your pocket. You must do the same… can you wiggle your hands free yet… before I suck them dry and they become useless?”

Trying to dodge the topic, I see, Elinor grumbled, feeling mildly uncomfortable as the dulled pain in her decaying body amplified. I can see the reasoning behind hastening the process on my hands to slip them. Wait… My two non-base Feats, one is a phylactery? You’re messing with my transformation by ‘bunking’ with me, aren’t you?

“Eh-hehe. A bit, admittedly, but I am still a servant, even if of the highest station, as painful as that is for me to say… This whole thing has had me biting my nails, which I never do!”

Thank you, Butter, that does make me feel a little better knowing I’m not the only one freaking out a little. She sighed, sliding them off and staring down at her partially crumbled chest; her heart radiated the bright green color, and she could see her white ribs. My body will be bones when this is…

“Company… Wonderful.”

They both ceased their internal dialogue as a door opened and closed upstairs, drawing Elinor’s gaze to the creaking floorboards, and she cast her gaze around to more thoroughly identify her environment; most of the space was utterly empty.

The walls were concrete, and the ceiling showed old wooden planks; there was a barred window to the left of the room that was boarded up, a half-broken mirror with empty crates in the corner, and a staircase leading up out of the basement she was in.

By the boot prints leading to and from her current location in the dust and dirt patches spread across the ground, there were two people who had dropped her off in the entirely unacceptable room.

She felt the skin and muscles across her belly beginning to wither, moving down to her lower half. Ignoring the small spark in her brain that told her to panic—suppressed by [Imperial Majesty]—she brought the back of her fingers to her shorts. Even though most of her skin and muscle were gone, she could feel the velvet pouch press against her bony fingers and thigh.

“Hurry!” Butter hissed. “You’ll be practically immortal once you’ve changed bodies.”

Plucking the pouch out of her pocket, she untied the binding before dumping the contents of the bag in front of her crossed legs. Curiously calm, she started to see the muscle, fat, and skin of her legs wither as the pulsing lights increased down her thighs to her toes.

[Imperial Majesty] dulls joy, fear, sadness, and trust—ironic, I know, Butter—but leaves surprise, disgust, anger, and anticipation. Is there any way to turn it off?

“Why are you thinking about that right now?”

Multitasking, she evenly replied, hearing voices upstairs. I guess not. It can be overpowered, though, but not likely at the S-tier. This whole kidnapping thing… what if they’re some kind of voodoo people that did this crazy ritual on me and summoned you, Butter?

“We’re writing fiction now, are we?! Heh. Next, the gorgeous blonde High Monarch will regain her glorious figure! Huh. Well, it was worth a shot.

Haha-mrrgrgr. I’m sixteen, Butter. I should be worrying about if Tanner loves me or not… I should just call and ask him. Why didn’t I think of that before?

“Because you’re insecure.”

Hmm-hmm. Not cute.

“Just pointing out the obvious, and wasn’t I supposed to hurry?”

Elinor stared down at the pure black jewels for a moment; Butter had evidently already taken one by its weak radiant shine, but they were almost identical. She couldn’t explain what she was experiencing. Despite her body collapsing on her, she was both freaking out and completely calm at the same time.

The creaking floorboards overhead snatched her attention as the voices grew panicked; she could only just make them out. Wait… what did they just say?

They sat in silence as Elinor’s degrading faculties continued to deteriorate, staring up at the floorboards of the basement she was in; a man was shouting, shortly followed by a second voice, both in Spanish. She couldn’t be sure of some of it since she wasn’t totally fluent.

“You don’t think I didn’t see it—the whole damn sky—the hell is happening, Raul?”

“It’s the crystal, man; I told you, it’s an omen! The sky split like an egg, Vicente—the whole thing—and then the crystal shot that light in the air! We’re trapped; it’s over, man—it’s over!”

“Dammit, I know; calm down. We still have her in the basement; we’ll figure it out.”

“It’s that light, man; there’s a dome sealing us in—the aliens, Vicente! That light in the sky and that crystal that appeared in the middle of town no one can touch; I told you! There’s some supernatural shit happenin’ here! Let’s just call Armando; we can’t get him back the girl.”

“You shittin’ me; do you want your mother turned into a rug? We’ll get some cash from her parents first… what we need. We just need to figure out how to get—dammit, how the hell is there a dome over the whole town?!”

“It’s the crystal, man; the omen of light…”

“Shut the hell up!” Vicente shouted. “We’ll stay here and wait it out; no one is going to go looking in abandoned houses with this shit happening. “Go check on the package; we have to deliver her to Armando—he wanted her specifically. Okay?”

Butter giggled. “It appears you’re rather popular, Priss?”

It seems so, she growled, her focus returned to the jewelry while willing herself to make the free stone her new home. I’ll deal with them in a second.

The world went black as her spirit left her decomposing corpse; the cold stones that welcomed her felt like a tomb, but that didn’t bother her. After a moment, the tight space even felt right, safe, her own personal sanctuary, yet nothing could offer her reprieve from her fatty bunk buddy.

“The plot thickens!”