When exhaustion and the peak of pleasure finally dragged Lina into sleep's abyss, she didn't fall into the familiar dark.
It was as if she passed through a warm, viscous membrane—then, when her awareness "opened" again, she was standing in a place completely unknown.
This was not reality.
The sky was a suffocating, lifeless lead-gray. There was no sun, no moon, no stars—only a muddy, indeterminate glow that provided a dim, miserable illumination.
Underfoot lay a thick layer of humus so dark it was nearly black. It was soft and swallowed her steps—yet made no sound at all.
All around stood towering trees. Their trunks were an unnatural pale white, their bark cracked like a dried riverbed, or like the shed, dead skin of some enormous creature. Branches and leaves twisted and tangled into a canopy so dense it felt suffocating.
The air reeked of rotting vegetation, wet cold soil, and… something else—something like rust and stale energy, heavy and dull. Everything was silent. Even the wind seemed dead. Only her own breathing and heartbeat were amplified in her ears, jarringly loud.
This forest was unlike anything she knew—everywhere it carried the sense of death, pallor, and… a faint, underlying brokenness.
Some of the massive trees leaned at unnatural angles; others had snapped cleanly in half. Yet the breaks showed no fresh wood—only a roughness like stone weathered for a thousand years. Here and there, the ground split into huge ravines, as if torn open by an invisible force—bottomless and black.
Lina frowned slightly. The discipline of a head maid pressed her surprise down into calm. She lifted the hem of her imagined skirt and advanced with the same elegant steps as always—only now, threaded with caution—following a narrow path that looked as though something had cleared it, footprints faintly impressed along the way.
Instinct told her the center of this place might hold answers.
She didn't know how long she walked before the trees abruptly thinned and the view opened.
A vast lake lay ahead.
Its water was unnaturally clear—like liquid moonlight—standing in sharp contrast to the dead, pale forest around it, as though it were the only clean thing in a gray world.
And on the shore, upon a smooth boulder, sat a figure in stillness.
A woman's back—wearing a plain white coat with the crisp severity of a researcher. Long black hair fell down her spine, threaded with several striking red streaks.
Even from behind, she emanated a quiet intelligence… and a strange, hard-to-name distance.
Lina's steps slowed.
Though she had never met her in person, the description Qianye had given, combined with that distinctive hair and presence, made a name surface almost at once:
Carlos Arna.
The long-missing woman Qianye regarded as mother and mentor—the Helios Institute's senior research director, rumored to have caused the fall of the Old City.
Lina smoothed her "appearance" out of habit, set her features into a perfect, professional smile, and approached with clear, courteous respect.
"Good day. I'm Lina—Victoria Housekeeping's head maid. If you are Ms. Carlos Arna, I hope you'll forgive the intrusion. I have a few questions that concern Qianye…"
The woman didn't even look at her.
Behind the glasses, those eyes held no warmth—only cold appraisal, as if weighing something unclean. She swept Lina once—like brushing aside a stray leaf—then returned her gaze to the lake, ignoring Lina completely.
To be dismissed so cleanly, so utterly, would have rattled most people.
Lina's smile didn't change by even a fraction.
No embarrassment. No anger. She simply drifted a little closer, as composed as ever, and followed the woman's line of sight to the lake. Her expression carried a carefully measured curiosity—gentle, appreciative, as though she were admiring the scenery.
And then—
Her smile froze solid.
The lake did not reflect gray sky and pale trees.
It reflected what had happened not long ago—on that velvet-luxury bed: Lina and Qianye entwined, bodies locked together, heat and breath and dizzying intimacy replayed with impossible clarity.
Every close press of skin, every tremor, every fevered expression—rendered like a flawless hologram, repeated on the lake's surface without mercy.
Lina's face cooled as if frost had swept across it.
She turned sharply to the woman on the boulder, her voice stripped of softness and edged with unmistakable chill.
"Peeping into another person's privacy—especially their private life in bed—is profoundly rude, and… frankly, borderline perverse. Ms. Carlos Arna, do you have some kind of voyeuristic obsession? Otherwise, why are you staring at such a scene so intently?"
"Carlos" finally reacted.
A faint, icy laugh escaped her—full of contempt. She turned slowly, her gaze sharpening into a scalpel that cut straight toward Lina. It was no longer mere indifference; it carried offense, disdain, and the weight of someone looking down from above.
"Perverse? Voyeuristic?"
Her voice stayed calm, yet it seemed to pierce bone.
"You speak to me about manners? You—who climbed into his bed the moment I could no longer stand guard beside him, using desire to stain what is pure in his soul—what right do you have to say the word 'courtesy'?"
Even seated, she radiated the authority of a creator and protector.
"Listen carefully, maid who doesn't know her place. I am Carlos Arna—Qianye's true guide and guardian. On the day the Old City fell, I was not entirely passive."
"Through deep understanding and analysis of Qianye's body, and with prearranged instruments and… unconventional methods, I successfully severed a strand of my consciousness—an 'insurance fuse'—and lodged it at the deepest level of his bloodline."
"This fragment only awakens when the power inside him truly stirs, when his mind becomes active enough to call it forth."
Her eyes returned to the lake's unbearable reflection; pain and fury twisted together in them.
"And my dissatisfaction is not because of your so-called 'peeping.' It's because you, Lina—Victoria Housekeeping's head maid—were so careless, so… impatient, so eager to do this to the child I treasure."
"Do you understand what it means?"
"You are playing with power he himself does not yet fully comprehend. You are adding unnecessary weight to a soul that is already lost and confused."
Under that pressure, under that harsh condemnation—
Lina's anger ebbed.
Not because she yielded.
Because she saw something.
She watched "Carlos" closely: the posture stiff with control, the voice sharpened into accusation… and beneath it, at the deepest layer of expression, a faint fragility and a stubborn, unwilling something.
An understanding—slightly contemptuous—curved at Lina's lips.
"So that's how it is…" Lina's tone softened back into her usual gentleness—yet gained a razor's precision. "I understand now."
"You aren't condemning my behavior itself."
"You're just… jealous."
Lina tilted her head, silver hair drifting though no wind blew, her voice almost cruelly accurate.
"In all the futures I've imagined for Qianye, I never once expected a presence that should be motherly and benevolent—even if you are only a so-called 'fragment'—to be this… fragile, irritable, and filled with such intense, twisted possessiveness."
"You can no longer monopolize his reliance. You can no longer be his sole guide."
"So when you see another woman able to hold him, warm him—甚至… to lead him to pleasures you never gave him—"
Her gaze pinned "Carlos" like a needle.
"You feel panic."
"You feel the terror of being replaced."
Each sentence landed like a precise puncture into the core "Carlos" tried to shield with coldness.
The figure wavered—subtly, but unmistakably—like a still lake disturbed by a stone.
For a split second, she had to admit it: Lina's words had cut her open cleanly, exposing a truth she didn't want to face—
A jealousy grown from endless waiting.
A possessiveness warped by distance.
But the tremor lasted only a heartbeat.
The scientist's cold rationality surged back over everything.
She still had a purpose. She still needed the maid before her.
This was not the time to be ruled by feeling.
The ripples in her eyes flattened to a deep, controlled calm. Her lids lowered slightly; her voice dropped, slowed, as though gathering every loose emotion back into lockstep order.
"…Lina. I apologize."
It didn't sound like sincere regret.
It sounded like strategic retreat—clearing the ground for the next move.
Lina, of course, noticed.
She smiled again, flawless, and accepted with graceful ease.
"It's quite all right, Ms. Carlos. After all, you are…"
She paused deliberately, not saying the word that might provoke the other woman again. She dipped her chin in understanding, and the tension on the surface seemed to ease.
Only on the surface.
Because when "Carlos" spoke next, that fragile truce shattered instantly.
"Ms. Lina," she said, gaze drifting to the lake once more, voice steady and firm, "as you can see, this space—born from Qianye's consciousness and sustained by my fragment—is unstable. Broken, even."
"The time you can remain here… is short."
She turned back, her eyes sharp behind the lenses.
"So before I 'disappear,' I want you to agree to one request."
Lina's brows lifted slightly. Her smile did not change.
"Please, go on."
Inside, every instinct tightened into alert.
"I want you to take Qianye into a Hollow once."
"Any Hollow will do. You don't need to go deep. The edge region is enough."
The air seemed to drop in temperature.
Lina's smile froze—this time not as performance, but as ice.
Her red eyes lost all softness. Cold light and killing intent gathered like tangible frost.
"Ms. Carlos Arna," Lina said evenly—so even it sounded like words hauled out of an ice cellar, "I still have deep doubts about how I came to this place… and serious unease about how you could 'casually' sever your mind and embed it in Qianye."
She leaned forward slightly; even as a consciousness-body, she radiated pressure like a blade unsheathed.
"But if your request is to have me place Qianye—whom I cherish above all—into a Hollow, a death trap riddled with danger…"
Her fingertips seemed to gather a faint, perilous pulse of energy—small, but absolute.
"Then I must consider, right here and now, how to erase your… dangerous fragment from existence."
"Carlos" didn't flinch. If anything, a faintly mocking curve lifted her mouth.
"If it were truly that easy," she said coolly, "then the god you call 'the Progenitor' would not have been forced to make that 'deal' with me, and to tacitly permit my existence."
Lina's eyes flickered.
"Oh? Or perhaps the Progenitor simply couldn't be bothered… or perhaps you overestimate your value."
"Enough of your empty probing," "Carlos" cut in, her tone returning to a scientist's cold certainty. "I will not harm him. Never."
"But he must understand what he can do now."
"This power needs real pressure, real practice—only under stress will its boundaries and nature become clear faster."
Her gaze seemed to pierce beyond the broken space, toward a future she could already see.
"A descendant of a 'god' cannot hide his brilliance forever."
"To shelter him endlessly, to conceal him endlessly—will only leave him helpless when the true storm arrives."
"And there is more."
"I can feel my original self… doing things my children would never dare believe."
"I don't care what you think."
"I only want my children to grasp their own fate."
Her words carried the weight of prophecy.
And the moment her final syllable fell, the entire space convulsed.
The pale forest began disintegrating into ash before their eyes. The ground split with groaning cracks; the lake shuddered, its surface rippling violently as the world blurred and twisted.
"It's time," "Carlos" said.
Her body turned transparent amid the collapse. She looked at Lina once—an expression too complex to name.
Then the world spun.
Lina snapped her eyes open, chest heaving, breath coming fast as if she'd just fought her way up from deep water.
Above her was the familiar ceiling of a Victoria Housekeeping guest room. A crystal chandelier caught the morning light and scattered gentle halos across the room.
Outside, it was fully bright. Sunlight spilled through carved window lattice, laying warm squares across the carpet.
But before she could truly steady her heartbeat—
A far more immediate pressure struck her like a physical weight.
She turned her head stiffly.
And met three pairs of eyes.
Three different flames.
All of them fixed on her.
Ellen stood at the front, hands on hips. Her usual lazy air was gone—replaced by raw fury. Red eyes blazed. Her shark tail slapped the floor with agitated violence. The lollipop stick in her mouth creaked as she bit it harder and harder.
Corin hovered behind Ellen's shoulder, small hands clenched tightly in her skirt. Her eyes were red, as if she'd been crying; her violet gaze trembled with hurt, worry, and disbelief. Her mouth was pinched like she might burst into tears again at any moment.
And—most unexpectedly—Ling was there too.
Arms crossed, face frosted over, the usual sparkle in her eyes replaced by stern appraisal and disapproval, as if she were judging someone who'd defiled something precious.
As for Lycaon and Zhe…
Lina's sharpened hearing caught them outside the door—silent, waiting, the posture of men who had decided this was a storm best endured from the hallway.
Even for Lina—who prided herself on perfect composure—this three-way tribunal raised an extremely rare sensation:
A prickling scalp.
She reflexively tugged the velvet blanket higher, trying to cover what was beneath it, and forced a smile that was… natural only by technical definition.
She lifted a hand in a weak, almost helpless little wave.
"G-Good morning?"
At that exact, frozen moment—
Beside her, Qianye stirred, apparently disturbed by the commotion. He made a small, drowsy sound. His lashes fluttered, and he opened his emerald eyes in a blur, gaze sliding across the three women at the foot of the bed, then catching Lina's stiff posture.
And then—
Under everyone's stunned stare—
As if his mind simply refused to process the avalanche of information… as if his body's first instinct was to escape the unbearable awkwardness—
He rubbed his eyes, yawned softly, tilted his head—
And closed them again.
Worse: he shifted, nestling closer to Lina, as if preparing to sink back into sleep.
That… was the match to the powder keg.
Ellen's anger—already at a boiling point from watching her "first claim," guarded for so long, still not even officially settled, get stolen out from under her—burst straight past the limit.
"Qiaaan—ye! Lina!!"
She growled their names through clenched teeth.
Then, with a single violent step, she lunged, grabbed the edge of the blanket—
And yanked.
Hard.
"Wha—!"
"Ah—!"
"Aaa—!"
Three different screams—three different pitches, one shared mixture of shock and mortified humiliation—exploded in the room.
Somewhere outside the door came a long, helpless sigh—very likely Lycaon's.
And a crisp crack—like someone, somewhere, was calmly eating sunflower seeds.
The Victoria Housekeeping guest room, bathed in bright morning sun, plunged instantly into chaos: youthful outrage, embarrassment, and flailing limbs colliding in a spectacular, undignified mess.
And Qianye—finally recognizing the severity of the situation—curled up like a trapped animal, searching for cover that did not exist, his face screaming a single, helpless thought:
Who am I? Where am I? What is happening?
Join here to read ahead.
In Star Rail, Ultra-Beast Armored — Have I Caught "Equilibrium"? l (Chapter 80)
Uma Musume, But I Only Have Five Years Left to Live (Chapter 178)
Zenless Zone Zero: I'm a Doctor, Not a Bangboo (Chapter 150)
Ben Tennyson Wants to Join the Justice League ( 126 )
TYPE-MOON: Redemption Beginning with the Holy Grail War (Chapter110)
Yu-Gi-Oh! — Transmigrated into the White Dragon Girl (Chapter190)
"Is this chat group even serious?" (Chapter105)
I, Lord Ravager, Utterly Loyal! (Chapter225)
Can Playing Games Save the World? 65
Crossover Anime Multiverse: The Demon Hunter of an Unnatural World 77
From Junkman to Wasteland 66
Weekly Refresh of Overpowered 31
I'm Grinding Proficiency Like 46
From Kiana, Lord Ravager, Onwa 195
Honkai: Is This Still the Prev 42
Elf: My Starter Pokémon Is Inc 65
Warhammer: My Primarch Is Remi 170
From Demon Slayer to Grand Ass Volume2/5
The Way the Umamusume Look at 68
Uma Musume, but My Cheat Power 225
Naruto: Weaving the Future, Be 65
Zenless Zone Zero, but Kamen R 76
Multiverse Crossover: The Perf 66
My Cyberpsycho Girlfriend 65
Uma Musume: The Dark Trainer 210
Uma Musume: A Calamity Born fr 154
I, a Reincarnation-Loop Player Volume4/30
The Violent Girl Group Is Beat 115
Uma Musume: The Horse Girl Who 67
Uma Musume: From Beginner 130
Becoming a Horse Girl, I Will 85
Uma Musume: I Want All 105
I Can Copy Unique Skills 100
Summoning an Evil God, but the 70
Supernatural Multiverse 90
My Harem Is Indescribable 85
Jujutsu Kaisen: Heroic Spirit 90
"I'm just a Valkyrie passing through." 68
Uma Musume: Today Is Another Romantic Battlefield 100
Still playing traditional Honk 69
The Most Filial Son Under Heav 75
What Should I Do After Switchi - Volume2/3
Reincarnated as a Demon, Skill 60
Hell-Difficulty Dungeon? 55
Transmigrated as Sukuna 71
Checking In in Demon Slayer 75
The Reincarnating Trainer of Tracen Academy 80
I Refuse to Become a Heroic 66
My Best Friend Into a Slime? 58
A Saiyan Stands Above Marvel 65
What Do You Mean by Using a Lab Mod to Be the Hero? 63
Tanya Starts from Re:Zero 59
Why did they assign me to Uma 55
MYGO Beauties 56
DanMachi: Emiya the Giant Hero 45
The Gacha Merchant Who Started 49
Honkai's Otherworld? Wait—Who Are You People?! 36
Emiya Shirou, Determined to Slay Every Curse and Evil Spirit 35
The Uma Musume Who Became 30
I'm Definitely Not the King of 35
After Maxing Out Every Class 35
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