"Hey, Lutious or Lusious, whatever your name is… hey, I'll just call you Lu."
"Emh, sir, please, my name is—"
"Huhh!"
A single glare shut Lutious's mouth instantly. Lutious, the ego of the continent itself — swollen with arrogance, drunk on its own importance — faltered before the arrival of one being.
"You can call me whatever you please," Lutious muttered, pride cracking under the pressure.
"I have some questions. You'd better give the right answers, or else say au revoir to that ego."
"I'll try my utmost to give an answer."
"Then let's proceed in order. First: what's a Whisper? What do they do? And how many does each continent have?"
"A Whisper is the title the Luminous Empire and continent goes by; other continents have theirs. A Whisper's duty is to serve as the intelligent network of the continent. Their senses are trained and sharpened to an enormous degree, covering land, sea, and air."
"Any freaking 'M'," Nal sneered, raising his fingers in mocking quotation marks, "should be able to do it."
"Pardon my question… but what's an 'M'?" Lutious mimicked the gesture, confused.
"You telling me you don't know what an 'M' is?" Nal's voice dripped with disbelief.
"No… please enlighten me."
Nal tilted his head. "Hey, D. Get over here."
Immediately, golden rays of light began to manifest, brilliance flooding the chamber. But before the figure could fully emerge, Nal snapped.
"D, I didn't fucking call you here for a performance. Stop this stupid light show and appear."
The radiance collapsed. In its place stood an elegant lady of fine features, masked and silent. Lutious instinctively moved to greet her in reverence, but Nal's presence froze him in place.
Just as Lutious was the embodiment and personified ego of the continent of Lutious, D — Divine — was the embodiment and personified ego of the Divine Realm itself.
"Nal, you called me?" D asked, her voice calm, though deep down she was afraid.
"I just wanted to ask if you know what an 'M' is."
Divine tilted her head in confusion.
"I do not know."
"This is disturbing. Like, who the fuck doesn't know what an M is? Anyway, an M is simply a Masochist."
"But what has a masochist to do with the Whisper's role?" Lutious asked hesitantly.
"It's fucking simple. If you're driven by the desire to evolve, then you're an M. Just forget it. Let's get back on track. And D — shut your trap, as you always do."
Divine only nodded, silent behind her mask.
"So, Lu, what's so fucking special about that Whisper thingy from those motherfuckers' strong brain for rot?"
"A Whisper's power doesn't just span the five senses," Lutious explained, voice faltering. "It resonates through emotional, mental, and spiritual states. They don't just sense — they feel, and they are one with all."
"That's a bull load of crap. I'm sure some geek of a Transmigrator from one of the many Earths brought it up after seeing it in one of their medias."
"But no Transmigrator has ever brought about such an idea before."
"Are you fucking sure? Answer me, Lu — are you sure?" Nal's voice cut like a blade.
"I… I… I…" Lutious stammered, searching for words. His eyes darted to Divine, desperate for help. But she only shook her head.
Realizing his predicament, Lutious lowered his gaze.
"No. I don't know."
"Okay, okay, forget it. I was just messing with you. Don't take it too seriously, child."
Even though Nal had offered reassurance, Lutious remained shaken. Nal was not a being to be trifled with — past, present, or future. He was a constant, one of the few who acted as observers to the entire narrative.
"Now, for my next question," Nal pressed, his tone sharp. "I've fucking heard this more than a hundred times, with different terms slapped onto it. But simply — what's the Three‑Way Parental Link?"
"Uhm… uhm…" Lutious faltered, his arrogance stripped away. "The Parental Link is a type of bond established between a parent and their child. This bond transcends all concepts and phenomena on a universal scale. It doesn't just stand as a bond but serves multiple purposes, such as identity, …"
He stopped.
A sound cut through the chamber — soft at first, then rising. Giggles. Lutious raised his head from observing the gathering at Lusious Palace, and froze.
Nal was smiling.
Not a pleasant smile, nor a mocking grin, but a wide, twisted, horrifying expression that seemed to stretch beyond the limits of a face.
"Is there something funny about what I said?" Lutious asked hesitantly.
"No, no, it's just that I realized something, hehehe," Nal replied, his expression snapping back to what everyone considered normal. "Hey, Lu… wait a second. Let's turn on Censorship and activate the Voice Filter."
Immediately, all of Nal's overlapping voices merged into one — smooth, romantic, unnervingly pleasant.
"I hate this voice; forget about it. So, Lu, what do you think of the creator of the parental system?"
"I revere and worship him. He's my creator and god." Lutious's voice grew fervent, his earlier fear forgotten as he launched into passionate praise.
Nal's smile twitched. "Fine, fine, I get it; you're a fanatic." His words fell flat against Lutious's reverent flood.
Nal's frustration simmered. He wanted to slap Lutious out of his daze, but with the Censorship active, he couldn't act without justification. His romantic tone remained calm, but his eyes narrowed.
"Sigh… the rules I must abide by: Lu Quite."
The words struck like a command. Instantly, a cold chill spread through Lutious's body, freezing his fervor. His voice faltered, devotion collapsing into silence. Nal's tone was smooth, censored, and romantic — yet beneath it, frustration lingered like a blade hidden in velvet.
"I'd be grateful if you keep your praises for that guy to a minimum." Nal's brows tightened, frustration flickering across his face. "I'd planned to drag things out, but our Lu here managed to reach the end for me — through praise, to my annoyance. That I must commend. Only a few have irritated me and lived to tell the tale. That is something praiseworthy."
"I'm—"
"Shushu shu," Nal cut him off with a dismissive wave. "Don't apologize. It's an achievement. Be proud, wear it on your heart, flaunt it to all — you've earned it."
"Thank—" Lutious began, but Nal's voice sliced through again, turning away from him and fixing on Divine.
"It's about time for their birth. D, take me to Forgotten."
"As you wish," Divine replied, her masked face tilting ever so slightly, calm on the surface but shadowed by deep unease.
Immediately the scenery shifted, and before all was a red barren land.
A vast wasteland stretched endlessly beneath a dead sky — cracked, bleeding dust whispering of wounds that never healed. Nothing grew without struggle. Water was a rumor, food a miracle, shelter a fleeting illusion claimed only by those strong enough to kill for it. The air itself carried decay, thick with ash and the stench of rot.
This was a land devoured by conflict. Violence was not an act but a language, spoken fluently by all who still breathed. Hunger hollowed the eyes of its people, pestilence clung to flesh, and strife coiled through every heartbeat. Fathers turned their fists against their sons, and sons learned early how to strike back. Mothers clawed at their daughters with the same desperation they once used to protect them. Infants were abandoned where they fell, left to the mercy of scavengers, beasts, or the sun itself — if mercy could even be found here.
No law ruled this place. No order endured. Strength alone decided who lived another day and who became dust beneath another's feet. Compassion was weakness. Hope, a liability.
This was not merely a wasteland.
It was the Land of the Forgotten — where the realm cast aside what it no longer wished to remember, and where the 'divine' itself rotted into something unrecognizable.
Or so it is and was to be throughout the continent.
Nal's voice broke the silence, sharp and dismissive:
"So this Morvanyth lived, no that's not right, even they feared her. I'm sure she lived on the outskirts of the outskirts.
The Forgotten to still presses on with the cast system even though they were rejected by other divines. The land of the Forgotten, the land of the Fallen, the land of the Nocthra is no different from how they were shunned and thrown out, just two years after birth. The Nocthras have disappointed me.
D move away from the borders to where their birth is taking place, a new story is about to begin."
Forgotten — the continent on which all Nocthras were discarded — did not escape the order that cast them away. Even in abandonment, hierarchy endured. The caste system of their parents took root once more, reshaping the land into rigid zones where no one ever questioned their place.
Each Nocthra was assigned a zone the moment they arrived and after their first shedding. No trial was held. No choice was given. Their wings alone decided where they would live, and how they would be treated.
Those nearer the inner zones clung to remnants of authority and structure, while those pushed outward existed beyond protection, beyond law, and often beyond memory. Movement between zones was forbidden in all but name; no barrier was required when every glance was enough to remind one of their station.
Thus, Forgotten was not unified by suffering, but divided by it. Even among the discarded, some were permitted to stand above others. And so the continent remained faithful to its purpose — not merely to abandon the Nocthras, but to ensure that even in exile, none would ever be equal.
And within one of these zones was the birth of a new story, a story that drew Nal's attention to the Divine Realm.
On this very day, in Zone 18 (Z18), a couple — one with red wings, the other with green — brought forth their child into the Divine Realm.
"Hey Lu, how did you first feel when a Main Character, an MC, was born on you?" Nal asked.
"I'm sorry to say, but a Main Character has never been born on me before. Only a Protagonist," Lutious replied.
Nal frowned, confusion flickering across his face. "Aren't they the same in a sense?"
"I've heard in the Central Plane there's not much difference between those two," Lutious explained, "but in the realms they are different. Within the realms, a continent is equivalent to a planet or two in the Central Plane. Because of this, we gave different definitions to the roles titles carry out.
A Protagonist's power and influence span across the entire continent, but rarely beyond it. A Main Character is different — they encompass the entire continent, and everything they do ripples outward into the realm itself.
For a land to birth a Main Character before even birthing a Protagonist is unheard of. And to think it's the land of the Fallen…"
Nal's eyes narrowed as the air shifted.
"I see. I'll have to visit the other realms. Oh look, they're born — it's a boy. I hope you don't die on me, early. After all, Luke took out another MC, starting this backstory shenanigan."
Lutious froze, his legs buckling beneath him.
"What? Is this the past? Are we in someone's backstory?"
Nal's tone was calm, almost mocking.
"Don't worry about the fine details, child. While I did come for someone else's backstory, whatever is ongoing here and now has no relation at all. Tomorrow? Yesterday? It's all the same for little Pee — oh, sorry, copyright. Tomorrow, today, yesterday… it's all the same for Nal."
But Lutious's fear only deepened, his breath ragged.
Nal turned his gaze toward the newborn.
"Soon‑to‑be MC, in two years, after your first shedding… are you going to be the next Morvanyth, or something else? Quite saddening your stories don't intertwine. Show me what you'll be in two years. Give me an answer to my question: do I give you plot armor, or do I write your story?
I hope you give a satisfactory answer, else you shall meet the same fate as that MC. Goodbye. See you in two years."
Nal began to turn, ready to leave the Divine Realm and return to Azure — but then he stopped. His expression sharpened.
A scent. Wrong. Alien. A violation of the Narrative Script itself.
Instantly, Nal appeared before Divine, his hand clamped around her throat. His voice was low, dangerous, every syllable a blade:
"Give me a reasonable reason I shouldn't end the current you this instant. Make sure it counts."