Returning to the waking world was an experience often described as a jarring splash of cold water, but for Asteria, it was more akin to being metaphorically dumped into a vat of liquid gold. She found herself standing before her new residence, a structure that was grand, luxurious, and frankly far too opulent for a girl who still carried the fashion sense of the outskirts' smog.
'Oh boy. They weren't kidding. Looks like the government and Song have been busy little bees, haven't they?'
Asteria was no stranger to the finer things lately — the brutal but majestic winters of Ravenheart and the exquisite meals served on silver platters had begun to dull her edge — but this was a different breed of wealth. It felt alien. She was still a creature of the grey scenery, the bitter, acidic rain, and the tasteless nutrient bars of the slums.
This house was a sprawling testament to influence that she hadn't quite accepted as her own. It was too much; far, far too much.
The Queen of Nightmare had a staggering amount to contemplate. Two forgotten Daemons had clawed their way into her subconscious, a cryptic Aspect Legacy was demanding her attention, and the political landscape was shifting beneath her feet like tectonic plates. Seeking a momentary distraction, she pulled out her communicator.
The headlines were a frenzied blur, all centring on a new, enigmatic combatant of the Dreamscape arena. A man who had seemingly appeared from nowhere, naming himself...
"Mongrel."
"Pffft," she nearly burst out laughing, the sound echoing in the hollow marble hallway of her foyer. "What a ridiculous name. Positively absurd."
She began scrolling through the captured footage of the illusory arena. The figure was an enigma; was he tall? Short? It was impossible to gauge his true build as he seemed perpetually obscured by a thin, shimmering veil. Yet, despite the obfuscation, one thing was undeniable: he moved with a terrifying, predatory fluidity.
And then there was that mask. That recognizable, mocking mask.
'Is that Sunless? Is this really what he's doing with his spare time? Playing gladiator for the masses?'
The articles beneath the videos were even more ludicrous:
"813 Victories with 0 defeats! Mongrel is unstoppable!"
"Does Kai from Nightingale have a secret identity? Is he Mongrel?"
"Breaking News! Mongrel is revealed to be the bastard son of a hidden Saint!"
"...Utterly ridiculous. Have these people no shame at all?" Asteria blurted out, her voice sharp with exasperation. Despite her critique, she found herself unable to look away. She pressed her palms to her temples, sighing deeply before she succumbed to curiosity, settling onto a plush velvet sofa to dissect Sunny's combat style in detail.
***
Hours bled into the evening unnoticed. Asteria had become a scholar of Mongrel, replaying every clip she could find within the digital archives of the Dreamscape.
"He's good. Infuriatingly good. Is this the strength he's been hiding under that humble facade?"
She felt a prickle of jealousy — a sharp, painstaking envy. His movements were not just fast; they were precise, adaptable, and possessed a grim efficiency that spoke of someone who had looked death in the eye. He fought like a man who knew exactly how much a single heartbeat was worth.
"Go away, I don't care about your advertisements..." Asteria snapped at her communicator as it began to vibrate with a sudden, aggressive sequence of alerts. She moved to silence it until she saw the sender's ID.
'Nephis?'
The message was characteristically brief:
["We will be away for a while."]
"That's not helpful in the slightest. No context? No reason why?" Asteria sighed, her thumbs hovering over the holographic keyboard. She tapped back a reply that mirrored her internal grumble.
The response was almost instantaneous, and it hit Asteria like a physical blow:
["Second Nightmare."]
The Queen of Nightmare's eyes widened, her heart skipping a beat against her ribs. Nephis was already making her move. She was attempting to cross the threshold into Ascendancy.
'I suppose I need to speed up. I should be looking at a Third, perhaps. I'm not trying to be competitive, but I refuse to be the one left standing in the dust.'
"The real question is where, though," she muttered to the empty room. "I need to know if I can assist."
["Chained Isles. How can you help?"]
"Trade secret," Asteria whispered with a mischievous grin, typing back a vague promise that she'd have to wait and see.
["Valor Territory. Be careful."]
"I should be fine, but if not, I'll figure something out!" She grinned, her mind already racing. She closed the chat and immediately checked her status runes, which had been humming with an odd light for some time.
Dreamer's Brand: [Changing Star].
Focusing her intent on Nephis' name, Asteria activated her connection. Through the shroud of the Dream Realm, she could see where the Changing Star was "dreaming" — Nephis had presumably just entered the Dream Realm.
[You can enter Awakened Demon, Changing Star's dream.]
"An incredibly stupid ability... it's essentially untraceable teleportation," Asteria shrugged, though she couldn't hide her smirk. "The limits on this must be astronomical. I can see through her eyes, travel to her remotely... it really isn't fair, is it?" She brushed the doubts aside. "But I'm not complaining. I like it."
Then, the class caught her eye again. 'DEMON?! Already? I truly need to catch up, and I need to do it now.'
Minutes later, Asteria was a blur of motion, bursting through the massive, ancient doors of Ravenheart. She didn't stop until she reached the heavy, ornate entrance to the throne room.
She composed herself, opening the doors with a practiced, gracious elegance. At the far end of the hall, she saw the Sovereign. Ki Song sat upon her throne, her dead puppets arranged around her like macabre ornaments.
"What bothers you, my daughter? Is something not to your satisfaction?" The puppets spoke in unison, their voices weaving into a singular, echoing chord that filled the vast hall.
"Um... everything is quite satisfactory, actually," the Queen of Nightmare offered a small, hopeful smile. "But I do have a somewhat urgent request."
"And what might that be?" The pilgrims rested their heads on their hands in perfect synchronicity, their hollow gazes fixed upon her.
"Do we — that is, do you — possess any Memories above the Ascended rank that are unwanted? Perhaps ones that are too cumbersome for the market? En masse, if possible."
"That is a highly unusual request. Are you attempting to raise a private army under my nose, Asteria?" Ki Song's voice carried a hint of dark laughter.
"No! No, of course not!" Asteria stumbled over her words, nearly tripping over her own feet in her haste to clarify. "I just... I want to grow stronger. Quickly."
"Relying on Memories is a hollow path to power, Asteria."
"It's related to my Aspect, if that changes anything?" the Queen of Nightmare pleaded softly, her violet eyes locking onto the Sovereign's gaze.
Ki Song straightened her posture, and the atmosphere in the room grew perceptibly heavier. "I am not entirely against the idea. However, that is contingent on you revealing the purpose of such a consumption."
Asteria swallowed hard, the sound audible in the silence of the hall. Her mind raced. 'I can't exactly tell her that I consume the very essence of Memories to gain fragments and form new cores, can I?'
Instead, she opted for a carefully crafted white lie — a half-truth that wouldn't set off the Queen of Worms' intuition.
"I can consume Memories to strengthen my Aspect, provided they are of a rank equal to or higher than my own. I feel... dangerously weak right now. I need the foundation."
Ki Song chuckled, a dry sound that echoed through the puppets' throats. "A reasonable enough answer. I shall see what can be given to my newest daughter."
***
And that was how Asteria found herself sitting amidst a surplus of crystalline Memories in her soul sea hours later.
[Would you like to consume...]
[Would you like to consume...]
[Would you like to consume...]
"Good heavens." Asteria blinked, her vision swimming as she scanned the sheer volume of newly added Memories. Her eyes then fell upon a specific prize she had taken herself. 'Right... I collected this one from Caster.'
Memory: [Flash of Light]
Memory Rank: Awakened
Memory Tier: I
Type: Garment
Description: ["A prideful scion was scorned by someone he deemed inferior — leading to his abandonment atop a spire of crimson.
The Flash of Light fought, though bloodied and torn, for a mission given by his superiors and a self-guided revenge against the one who forced him into hell.
That was until... he met his end at the hands of the inferior being: The Insatiable Queen of Nightmare."]
"Yikes. That is a lot of struggle just to end up as a footnote in my Soul Sea, eh, Caster?" Asteria felt a fleeting pang of guilt, a somber reflection on the finality of a life condensed into a paragraph.
Memory Enchantments: [Lightning's Grip], [Lightning's Punishment].
[Lightning's Grip]: The summoning of memories and echoes is significantly accelerated. The speed of this enchantment scales with the potency of the owner's soul.
[Lightning's Punishment]: Elemental lightning can be applied to any summoned object.
"Speedy summoning... now that is useful," she mused. She summoned the garment, and a pair of brown leather gloves with golden thread stitching appeared on her hands, marked with a simple lightning bolt on the back.
"Not exactly my aesthetic, but..." Asteria focused, attempting to manifest the [Might of Gold] over the gloves.
The golden carapace flared into existence instantly. There was no shimmering delay, no airy display of white sparks; it was simply there the moment her will demanded it.
"I didn't think the difference would be that stark, but the utility here is incredible." She chuckled, a devilish glint appearing in her eyes. She could keep the golden carapace active over the gloves without sacrificing her range of motion, all while maintaining the near-instantaneous summoning speed.
However, it was the second enchantment that truly intrigued her. She returned to the waking world, entering the basement of her new home — a space she had been told was reinforced for high-intensity training.
The basement was a stark, cold environment. The walls were thick slabs of hyper-durable alloys, and her footsteps echoed with a metallic ring.
Summoning the [Sentinel's Heart], Asteria directed her essence through her gloves and into the [Lightning's Punishment] enchantment. Suddenly, jagged blue vines of electricity arched around the edge of the blade, crackling with a predatory hiss.
"Interesting. The essence drain is surprisingly manageable..."
She swung the blade, watching the sparks dissipate into the cold air. Then, she shifted her focus. She allowed the electricity to flow into her golden echo — forming a second, volatile layer over her already impenetrable carapace. The current danced over the gold, creating a living, crackling cage of protection.
"Woah..." Her eyes lit up as she watched the lightning arc across her skin. "I need to see what this can actually do. These walls should be able to take it, right?"
Taking a deep breath, Asteria dropped into a low, coiled stance. She pivoted her hips, putting the full weight of her Ascended strength behind a horizontal slash at the reinforced wall.
CRACK!
"...Oh."
The wall was, evidently, not as durable as the real estate agent had promised.
A long, glowing fissure had been carved through the metal where her blade had passed effortlessly. Radiating from this central slice was a rigid spider web of cracks, scorched black and still hissing with residual electricity — exactly like a lightning strike.
"I might have over-leveraged that just a bit," she sighed, swallowing hard as she surveyed the damage. "Don't knock it until you tr..."
Before she could finish the thought, a wave of profound exhaustion washed over her. Her knees buckled, and she felt as though a significant portion of her vitality had been siphoned away in an instant.
[Glass Eyes are peering into your runes....]
[Glass Eyes have expanded upon the enchantment: "Lightning's Punishment."]
[Lightning's Punishment: "...Attacks performed while Lightning's Punishment is active will drain essence proportionally to the destructive output of the strike."]
"Oh, for the Spell's sake! You couldn't have mentioned the fine print earlier?" She groaned, slowly hauling herself up from the floor, her limbs feeling like lead.
Brushing herself off, she opened her status runes once more, bracing herself for the inevitable. She looked at the mountain of Memories Ki Song had provided.
[Would you like to consume...]
"Yes. Do it."
Asteria repeated the process dozens of times, feeding the hunger of her soul until the horrifying, melodic voice of the Spell began to vibrate in her inner ear.
[Your dream is taking shape.]
"I hate you!" she screamed at the ceiling.
Then came the agony. It was a burning, white-hot friction within her chest, a sensation of her soul being stretched over a rack. She clutched her heart, her teeth grinding together so hard she feared they might shatter.
Fortunately, she had survived this transition once before. She braced her mind, counting the seconds through the blinding veil of pain.
[Your dream has taken shape.]
She heaved in ragged breaths, her body trembling as she tried to stand, only to collapse back onto the floor in a heap. But then, the sensation changed.
The Spell's voice whispered again, closer this time, almost intimate.
[Your corruption is taking root.]
This wasn't a burn. It wasn't agony.
It was blissful. It was like plunging into a cool mountain spring on a blistering summer day. It was the first breath of fresh air after a lifetime in a coffin.
It was a warm, welcoming embrace that wormed its way into the deepest recesses of her mind. It was a feeling that transformed into a singular, crystalline desire.
A desire to consume. To expand. To grow until there was nothing left but her. To command the shadows of the world. A desire to—
[Your corruption has taken root.]
"What..." The Queen of Nightmare groaned, her head swimming with intrusive thoughts that felt both alien and terrifyingly natural.
[You have gained the power of Corruption: Devil.]