3rd Person POV
[Simulation Room - Sector 80: Inter-dimensional Portal Lab]
Three hours had passed in the outside world. Inside the time-dilated Sector 80, it had been one hundred and eighty grueling hours. The lab was a beautiful disaster.
Blueprints covered every available surface. Empty coffee cups and half-eaten snack wrappers formed small mountains on the side tables. Two makeshift bunk beds — conjured by the Simulation Room itself — sat in the corner, still untouched. The central platform where the Inter-dimensional Portal was supposed to manifest hummed faintly, its rune arrays glowing a frustrated, unstable amber.
Arto and Nami sat slumped in their chairs, staring at the inactive structure. Nami let out a long, exhausted groan and rubbed her eyes. "Third attempt… and still nothing. The anchor point is stable, the mana harmonics are aligned, the dimensional shear calculations check out on paper… so why the hell isn't it opening?"
Arto didn't answer right away. He just stared at the dormant portal frame, jaw tight, fingers drumming restlessly on the desk. Another failure.Nami pushed herself up with a sigh. "I'm going to crash for a bit. My brain is fried. Wake me up when you've had a breakthrough… or when you finally pass out."
She dragged herself over to one of the bunk beds and collapsed face-first into it, mumbling something about "stupid multiverse" before going still.
Arto remained at the desk. He took a sip of now-lukewarm coffee, grimacing at the bitterness, then pulled another sheet of scrap paper toward him. The table in front of him was buried in discarded calculations, crossed-out arrays, and failed rune configurations. He sighed deeply, rubbing his scarred face with both hands.
The door to the sector suddenly slid open. The time-dilation field flickered and shut down with a soft chime as Robin stepped inside, carrying a small tray with fresh tea and warm pastries. She took one look at the chaos — the exhausted man still hunched over the desk, the sleeping Nami, the inactive portal — and understood everything in an instant.
She walked over quietly, set the tray down, and leaned in to press a gentle kiss to Arto's temple. "You've been in here too long," she murmured against his skin. "Both of you." Arto leaned into the kiss for a moment, eyes closing. "I thought we had it this time…"
Robin stroked his hair once, soothing. "Go get some real sleep. Take the bunk next to Nami. I'll look over everything while you rest. When you wake up healthy and clear-headed, we'll go through it together. I'll offer whatever insight I can."
Arto hesitated, glancing at the dormant portal. Robin's voice grew firmer, though still soft. "You're no good to the project if you burn yourself out. Let me watch for a while." He finally nodded, too tired to argue. He stood up slowly, joints popping after so many simulated hours, and shuffled over to the second bunk bed. Before lying down, he looked back at Robin.
"…Thank you." She gave him a small, warm smile — the kind that always made the weight on his shoulders feel a little lighter. "Sleep, my love. I've got you."
Arto collapsed onto the bed. Within moments, his breathing evened out into deep, exhausted sleep. Robin turned toward the central console, rolling up her sleeves. One extra hand manifested to pour herself a cup of the fresh tea she had brought, while the others began pulling up the latest failed configurations.
She looked at the inactive portal frame, then at the mountain of discarded work, and murmured to herself: "Let's see where you two got stuck…"
[Timeskip: Brought to you by chibi Robin reading papers while chibi Arto and chibi Nami are sleeping]
Arto woke first, his body heavy from the extended time-dilation. The moment he stirred, Nami instinctively clung to his shoulder like a koala, mumbling something incoherent about "stupid coordinates" as he helped her sit up. Her orange hair was a wild mess, and her eyes were still half-lidded with exhaustion.
"Come on," Arto said gently, wrapping an arm around her waist for support. "Robin's been working while we slept." He half-carried, half-walked the sleepy Nami over to the central desk where Robin was still seated, multiple holographic windows floating around her. Robin looked up with a calm, knowing smile as they approached.
Arto eased Nami into the chair beside him and pulled a fresh protein bar from the supply drawer, handing it to her. "Eat first. You're running on fumes." Nami grumbled but tore open the wrapper and took a bite, leaning heavily against Arto's side for support while her brain slowly rebooted.
Robin waited until Nami had swallowed a few bites before she spoke. "I think I found the fatal flaw." Both Arto and Nami straightened immediately. Robin flicked her fingers, expanding the main holographic display to show their latest failed portal configuration — the same one that had produced nothing but error codes and unstable mana turbulence.
"You keep trying to 'breach the wall of the world' to reach other planets or star systems within the same reality bubble. That's where you're stuck." She zoomed in on a conceptual diagram she had redrawn — a simple sphere representing their current world, surrounded by countless other glowing spheres floating in an endless dark sea.
"What you call 'the Void' or 'Sea of Worlds' isn't just the empty space between planets or even between galaxies. It's the space between realities themselves. Each 'world' is like a self-contained bubble — an entire universe with its own laws, its own physics, its own timeline. Some may look similar to ours. Others might be completely alien — realities that don't even follow cause and effect the way we understand it."
Robin's voice was calm, but there was clear excitement underneath. "You weren't trying to reach other planets. You were trying to punch a hole into entirely different realities. That's why the anchor points kept collapsing. You were aiming at the wrong target."
Nami's eyes widened, the protein bar momentarily forgotten in her hand. "Holy shit… we've been trying to sail to another island when we should've been building a ship capable of crossing oceans between entirely different oceans."
Arto stared at the new diagram, the realization hitting him like a physical weight. He let out a slow, stunned breath. "…All this time. We were thinking too small." Robin gave a small, satisfied nod. "Exactly. Once we redefine the target from 'other planets in our reality' to 'other realities entirely,' the INA calculations will need to be rebuilt from the ground up — but they'll actually work."
She looked at both of them, her expression softening. "You two pushed incredibly hard. Now that we've identified the core misunderstanding, we can make real progress. But not right now." Robin stood up and gently pulled Arto and Nami toward the bunk beds. "Rest properly first. Real rest. Then we redesign the framework with the correct scope."
Arto looked at her for a long moment, then gave a tired but grateful smile. "…Thank you, Robin." Nami leaned her head against Arto's shoulder again, mumbling sleepily. "Yeah… you're the best, genius…"
[Timeskip: Brought to you by Arto floating in the Void]
Three hours had passed outside. One hundred and eighty grueling hours inside the time-dilated lab. The first functional prototype of the Inter-dimensional Portal stood before them — a tall, circular frame of stabilized runes and mana conduits humming with restrained power. Arto, Robin, and Nami stood a respectful distance away, hearts pounding with a mixture of exhaustion and anticipation.
"This is it," Arto said quietly. "Not reaching other planets in our reality… but punching through to the Void between worlds." Nami cracked her knuckles, eyes gleaming despite the dark circles under them. "INA calculations are locked. If this works, we map the multiverse. If it doesn't… we try again tomorrow."
Robin stood slightly behind them, one extra hand already holding a diagnostic pad, ready to record every variable. Arto took a deep breath and reached for the activation rune. "Activating."
The moment the final sigil lit up, the portal tore open with a deafening crack. A violent pressure differential exploded outward. Everything not bolted down — papers, coffee cups, tools, even the air itself — was violently sucked toward the yawning black maw of the portal. The Void between worlds had no atmosphere, no resistance, no mercy.
Nami and Robin, standing farther back, were able to grab onto reinforced handrails and hold on as the suction tried to drag them forward. Nami's hair whipped wildly around her face as she yelled. "Arto—!"
But Arto was too close. The pull caught him instantly. He was yanked off his feet and hurled straight into the open portal, vanishing into the absolute blackness of the Void. "ARTO!!" Nami screamed, clinging desperately to the rail.
Robin's extra hands shot out, grabbing anything solid to keep herself anchored, her eyes wide with terror for the first time in years. For a heartbeat, the lab was filled with nothing but the roar of escaping air and the horrified cries of the two women.
Then… the suction stopped. A shimmering barrier snapped into existence across the portal frame, cutting off the deadly vacuum. And floating serenely in the center of the black emptiness was Arto.
Completely unharmed. He drifted weightlessly, clothes and hair barely stirring. No explosive decompression. No ruptured organs. No torn flesh from the impossible pressure difference. His chest wasn't even moving — his lungs had simply stopped, as there was nothing to breathe.
Yet his eyes were open. Calm. Alive. Robin and Nami stared in stunned silence, still gripping the rails. Arto noticed them and tried to speak — but no sound could travel through the Void. He frowned, then raised a hand and began drawing glowing runes directly onto the surface of the barrier he had created, forming words they could read.
I'M OKAY.DON'T KNOW WHY.COME CLOSER.
Robin and Nami exchanged a single shocked glance before carefully approaching the barrier, staying safely on the lab side.
Robin's analytical mind kicked into overdrive. One extra hand manifested a medical scanner, sweeping it across Arto's floating form. "Organs… functioning normally," she murmured, voice filled with disbelief. "Lungs have stopped — no air to breathe — but oxygen levels in his blood are stable. Cellular activity is… normal. This should be biologically impossible. The pressure differential alone should have torn him apart from the inside out."
Nami's mouth hung open. "Boss… you're just floating there like it's a damn swimming pool!" Arto, still on the other side, drew another line of glowing text on the barrier. I DON'T KNOW WHAT I AM ANYMORE.BUT I'M NOT DYING.WE DID IT.
He looked back at them — equal parts awed and confused — and gave a small, disbelieving smile. The three of them stood there, separated by a thin barrier and the endless Void between worlds, staring at the impossible truth floating before them.
Arto Abyssgard — the man who had once been a weapon forged in the lowest ring of Hell — could survive, even thrive, in the nothingness between realities. And none of them, not even Arto himself, understood why. Robin's voice was soft, almost reverent. "…We have a lot of work to do."
Nami slowly let go of the rail, eyes wide with wonder and the spark of new possibilities. "Yeah… we really do."
The moment the barrier stabilized and the deadly suction ceased, Robin and Nami rushed forward. Arto floated just beyond the portal frame, still perfectly intact, drifting weightlessly in the absolute black of the Void. His eyes met theirs through the shimmering barrier, calm but clearly bewildered.
Robin was already scanning him with multiple diagnostic spells and a handheld medical array she had manifested on the spot. Her extra hands moved rapidly, taking readings from every angle.
Nami, still catching her breath from the near-disaster, leaned against the console and began speaking the instant Arto stepped back through the portal and the frame powered down. "Okay, boss — that was insane, but also perfect. Now that we have a working gateway into the actual Void between worlds instead of just poking around our own reality… finding other worlds becomes easy. I'll have detectors ready within the hour. They'll record the unique indexes of every reality bubble they brush against. We map the multiverse like charting stars in an ocean of nothing."
She paused, her usual sharp excitement dimming into something more serious. "But here's the real problem. Establishing a stable two-way gateway to a specific reality using only the mana of this world is basically impossible."
Nami pulled up a new holographic diagram — a long, glowing bridge stretching from their world to a distant glowing sphere. "If we take your original journey from your home world to this one as the standard measuring unit… building a bridge all the way back would require an amount of mana we couldn't gather or sustain by any method we currently know. Even with the Stabilizer working at full capacity, the time needed to accumulate that much energy would be measured in years. And that's assuming we could even contain it."
She tapped the diagram. "Worse — gathering that volume of mana in one place would light up every leyline and magical sensor across the entire Underworld like a beacon. We'd attract attention we really don't want. And even if we somehow managed it… the mana gets lost to the Void after the portal opens. It's a one-way expenditure. We'd be throwing away irreplaceable resources for a portal that could only be used once before collapsing."
Nami crossed her arms, looking between Arto and Robin. "So we can find the worlds. The hard part is actually reaching the ones we care about without bankrupting ourselves or starting a war over mana shortages."
Arto listened in silence, still floating slightly off the ground for a moment before his feet touched down again. The realization of what he had just survived in the Void lingered in his eyes, but he pushed it aside to focus on Nami's words.
Robin, meanwhile, continued her examination — one hand gently pressing against Arto's neck, another scanning his chest, her expression a mix of clinical fascination and deep concern. "Your cellular integrity is… intact. No tissue rupture. No vacuum trauma. Lungs have shut down completely due to the lack of atmosphere, yet oxygen saturation in your blood remains stable. This is biologically impossible by every law I know. You're not just surviving the Void. You're… functioning normally inside it."
She looked up at him, voice soft but urgent. "What are you, Arto?" Arto met her gaze, then looked at Nami, then back at the now-closed portal frame. "I don't know," he admitted quietly. "I really don't." He ran a hand over the back of his neck, feeling the old scar where the control cube had once been. "But whatever I am… it seems the Void recognizes me as something that belongs there."
Robin's extra hands moved with clinical precision as she examined Nami's injured finger. The wound was clean but ugly — skin split, capillaries ruptured, tissue showing the tell-tale signs of explosive decompression and extreme cold damage.
"This is exactly what happens when organic matter is exposed to hard vacuum at absolute zero," Robin said quietly, her voice carrying a mix of fascination and concern. "The pressure differential tears the cells apart, and the temperature flash-freezes everything in an instant."
She looked up at the portal frame where Arto still floated calmly in the black emptiness. "Yet you're swimming in that environment… and functioning perfectly. No cellular rupture. No freezing. No damage at all."
Nami winced as Robin applied a regenerative salve, but her eyes were wide with the same scientific awe. "Boss… you're basically living in absolute zero and hard vacuum like it's a warm bath. That's not just weird. That's impossible."
Arto drifted closer to the barrier, still weightless, and gave a small, helpless shrug. "I don't feel cold. I don't feel pressure. It's just… quiet. Like the Void remembers me."
Robin finished treating Nami's finger, then turned fully toward the portal. "Arto, I need you to try something for me. Create a wormhole. Bend the space between our world and a target reality the way you would fold a sheet of paper. Don't open a full portal yet — just show us the bend. If you can manipulate Void matter, maybe you can manipulate the distance itself."
Nami's head snapped up. "Whoa, whoa — hold on. We went from 'make a ball of nothing' to 'fold space like origami' in one breath? That's a massive leap. I don't think even the boss can just casually do that on the first try."
She glanced at Arto, then back at Robin, her expression softening into something more protective. "Besides… my finger hurts. And I'm craving that new batch of tangerines from Gremory's botanical sector. So come back here, let me record the attempt properly next time, and give your wounded CFO some hugs and kisses while we wait for the detectors to find actual coordinates."
Nami leaned heavily against Arto as they prepared to leave the lab, her injured finger wrapped in a fresh regenerative bandage Robin had applied. She looked up at him with that familiar mix of mischief and genuine need.
"But here's the catch, boss," she said, voice still a little shaky from the earlier chaos. "If we can't replicate the way you bend Void space to make a wormhole… we're going to need you standing here every single time we want to open a connection. That's insanely inefficient. I need you to do it at least once — full power, no holding back — so I can record every variable. How you control the Void matter, how you fold the distances… everything. Then maybe we can figure out a way to automate it."
She paused, then gave him a dramatic pout, cradling her bandaged finger. "But right now, your CFO is wounded and craving that fresh batch of tangerines from Gremory's botanical sector. So carry me, feed me, and we'll learn later."
Arto couldn't help the small, fond smile that tugged at his scarred lips. Without another word, he scooped Nami up into a bridal carry, one arm under her knees and the other supporting her back. She let out a satisfied hum and looped her good arm around his neck. "Much better," she murmured, already resting her head against his shoulder.
Robin watched them with a gentle, knowing smile, one extra hand still holding her diagnostic pad. "I'll stay behind for a few more minutes to compile the raw data from the first test. Go take care of her. I'll join you for dinner and help with the cooking."
Arto nodded gratefully as he headed for the exit with Nami in his arms. "See you soon."
[Arto's mansion]
By the time they stepped out of the Simulation Room, the sky outside had already turned the dark of 7 p.m. The summer evening air was warm and carried the faint scent of blooming night flowers from the garden.
Arto didn't slow down. He kept Nami securely in his arms and broke into a light run toward the botanical sector of the Gremory estate that had been duplicated inside their Simulation Room for easy access. Nami laughed softly against his chest, her good hand playfully tugging at his collar. "You're such a softie when one of us gets a little boo-boo."
"Only for you," Arto replied, voice warm. "Especially when you start demanding tangerines like they're life or death." He quickly gathered a generous basket of the fresh, juicy tangerines — bright orange and perfectly ripe — then turned and headed straight for the mansion.
Rias and her peerage had been out on a tough stray-hunting mission today. They would be exhausted and hungry when they returned. Grayfia was still in Atreides Domain with Albedo, overseeing the ateliers. That left Arto as the default head chef for the night.
Nami munched happily on a tangerine as he carried her, peeling another one with her good hand and occasionally offering him a segment, which he accepted with a soft laugh.
By the time they reached the mansion, Robin had caught up, having finished her initial data compilation. She fell into step beside them without a word, one extra hand already rolling up her sleeves in preparation to help with dinner.
The three of them moved into the kitchen together — Arto still carrying Nami until he gently set her down on a stool at the counter so she could supervise (and snack) while he and Robin started cooking.
Arto moved with quiet efficiency, pulling out ingredients for a hearty meal that could feed a hungry peerage: grilled meats with rich sauces, fresh vegetables from the botanical sector, warm bread, and a large pot of comforting stew. Robin worked beside him seamlessly, chopping, seasoning, and occasionally stealing a glance at him with that quiet, perceptive look that said she hadn't forgotten the revelations in the Void.
Nami, perched on her stool with her bandaged finger held carefully away from the counter, directed them both with her usual flair. "More garlic in the sauce, boss. And don't skimp on the tangerine glaze for the chicken — Rias loves that sweet-citrus kick after a long day."
Arto smiled softly as he worked, the familiar rhythm of cooking for his family grounding him after the impossible events of the day.
[Timeskip: Brought to you by chibi Nami cuddling with cat Kuroka]
The kitchen had the particular warmth of a room where someone was cooking with intention rather than obligation.Arto at the stove was a different configuration from Arto at the desk or Arto in the Simulation Room — the same economy of motion, the same absence of wasted gesture, but directed at something that was not solving a problem so much as producing a thing that other people would need, which was a different relationship with a task entirely.
He had learned to cook in the mansion the way he learned most things — systematically, with the Spellcrafting Formulas' approach to treating any craft as a set of principles that could be understood and applied rather than mysteries that required intuition. The results had been, by the household's general assessment, significantly better than they had expected from someone who had not cooked until approximately eight months ago.
Nami was at the kitchen island. She had Kuroka in the configuration that Kuroka periodically achieved when Nami was stationary enough to be sat upon — the Nekoshou arranged across her arms with the boneless contentment of something that had assessed the available warm surfaces and selected the optimal one. Nami was watching Arto with the specific quality of someone who was enjoying watching something be done well, which was the quality she brought to witnessing competence in any form.
The kitchen was quiet in the comfortable way. Then the front door opened.
The sound of the peerage returning was usually a specific kind of sound — the sound of people who had done something physical and were coming back from it, the specific energy of a group that had been in motion together and was now transitioning to stillness. Rias and her peerage returning from a stray hunting mission had a texture.
This texture was different.
Nami registered the difference before she could have articulated what the difference was — the quality of the silence where there should have been the debrief chatter that usually preceded the door opening, the specific tone of footsteps that were slower than post-mission footsteps usually were.
She disentangled from Kuroka. Kuroka made the sound of something reconsidering its assessment of available warm surfaces. Nami went to the kitchen doorway. She looked at the peerage in the entrance hall.
Their hair was wrong. That was the first legible detail — all four of them, Rias and Akeno and Koneko and Kiba, with their hair in the state that combat produced, the state that a significant expenditure of physical effort in an uncontrolled environment produced. Dirty. Displaced. The particular dishevelment of people who had been somewhere that had not been tidy.
Their faces were dirty.
The faces were the second legible detail. Not injured — nothing on any of them that read as wound or damage, nothing that triggered the specific alarm of someone assessing returning field operatives for injury. Dirty in the way of people who had been in proximity to things that produced debris and had not been concerned with debris because they had been concerned with other things.
Their expressions were the third legible detail.
And the third legible detail was what made Nami take three more steps into the hallway and look at them more carefully, because the expression on four faces that she knew reasonably well was one she did not immediately have a category for.
Not victory. Not distress. Not the adrenaline residue of a successfully resolved threat. Surprise.
Pure, uncomplicated, still-processing surprise. The expression of people who had witnessed something that had moved faster than their existing frameworks for understanding things and had not yet finished building the new framework.
Kuroka jumped down from the counter in the kitchen with the silent landing of something that had heard an interesting change in the room's atmosphere and had decided to investigate. She padded to the hallway entrance and sat, looking at the returned peerage with the focused attention of a cat presented with a situation that warranted assessment.
Nami looked at Rias. "What happened," she said. "Why do you all look like that." Rias looked at her. "Miyabi happened," she said.
They came into the kitchen. Arto glanced at them from the stove — the comprehensive glance of someone assessing a returning group's status without interrupting what he was doing, concluding that the status was not emergency, returning his attention to the dinner.
Rias sat at the island. She had the quality of someone who had needed to sit since before they got home and was only now getting to do it. "We knew the name," she said. "We knew what she had done. We had the Agency's files, the incident report, the SSS classification." She paused. "We did not know what she looked like doing it."
"The sword," Akeno said. She was leaning against the counter with her arms crossed and the expression of someone replaying something in their interior that had left a significant impression. "Tailless. When she drew it—" She paused. "It is one thing to know that a sword has a history like that one has. It is another thing to be in the space when the sword is in use."
"Cold," Rias said. "That is the word. Not cold like ice — cold like the particular temperature of something that has no warmth to offer and is not apologizing for it." She looked at the counter. "Fluid. Every motion was fluid, the way water is fluid — not because it is soft but because it goes where it goes without resistance and without hesitation. The blade went where the blade was going and the strays—"
She stopped. Kiba picked it up. "The screaming," he said. Kiba did not discuss screaming lightly — he had been in enough combat situations to have developed the specific composure toward the sounds of combat that extensive experience produced. The fact that he was the one who surfaced this detail was a detail in itself. "The strays were SS-plus ranked. They were not small things. They were not things that screamed easily." He paused. "The one Miyabi took — it screamed. In the specific way something screams when it encounters something it did not expect and cannot process."
"She was calm," Rias said. "That is the part I keep returning to. She was—" She looked for the word. "Composed. Not the composed of someone who is not afraid, because I think she was — I think there is always something present in her when she fights that is not entirely calm underneath the surface. But the surface—" She paused. "Deathly grace. That is the phrase that arrived while I was watching it. Deathly grace."
Kuroka suddenly wiggled free from Nami's arms with a graceful twist. She landed lightly and immediately jumped into Koneko's waiting embrace, wrapping her arms around her little sister's neck like a needy cat. "So you went to see a spectacle and did nothing to help this Miyabi girl?" Kuroka asked, tails swishing with playful accusation. "Shame on you, Shirone~"
Koneko caught her easily, holding her close with that familiar mix of annoyance and affection. "We saw her kill one of the SS+ ranked stray devils," she answered flatly, though her eyes still carried the awe from earlier. "Both we and the stray were stunned. The performance was… captivating. And deathly, of course."
Akeno giggled from where she was sprawled on the couch, legs draped over the armrest. "It was like watching a living storm of blades. Cold, fluid like water, but deadly like a hurricane. She was perfectly calm while the stray screamed in raw pain. We all forgot we were supposed to be fighting for a moment — even the second stray just… stared."
Rias nodded, still brushing dirt from her hair as she headed toward the bathroom to wash up. "In the end, she left the second one for us to handle while she got called away for another mission. But before she left, she asked us to notify Adam Alket — or whoever manages his money — that some clans didn't have enough liquid cash to pay the full bounty on the strays she hunted. They'll be paying in clan bonds instead."
The moment the word "bonds" left Rias's mouth, Nami's entire demeanor changed. Her eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas morning. She practically vibrated in place, clutching the edge of the counter. "Clan bonds…? From big clans? Like… government-level bonds but from noble houses?"
Rias shrugged, already halfway down the hall. "Yeah. Some raw money, some bonds. Miyabi gets 50% of any bounty she hunts, apparently. She seemed pretty happy about it."
Nami's brain was already doing cartwheels. She whipped out her phone and started frantically checking incoming notifications, her face splitting into a manic grin as the numbers and bond certificates started rolling in. "Oh my gods… these are from actual Pillar-level houses. High-yield, long-term, secured by clan assets… This is better than cash in some cases!"
She looked up at Arto, who was still calmly stirring the stew on the stove, and practically launched herself at him. "Boss! I want to kiss you and marry you right now!" Arto barely had time to set the spoon down before Nami was in his arms, peppering his scarred cheek with enthusiastic kisses while still clutching her phone like a holy relic.
"You beautiful, beautiful man! You set up that bounty system and now we're getting paid in high-grade clan bonds! This is financial poetry!" Kuroka, still in Koneko's arms, let out a lazy, amused purr. "Looks like someone's more excited about money than food tonight."
Koneko just sighed, but there was a tiny smile on her face as she watched her sister's antics. Robin, who had slipped in quietly behind everyone, chuckled softly as she set the table. "Careful, Nami. You might scare the poor stew."
Arto laughed — low, warm, and genuinely amused — as he wrapped one arm around Nami's waist to keep her from knocking anything over. "Eat first. Then you can propose marriage again after dessert." Nami grinned against his neck. "Deal. But I'm holding you to that."
The scent of dinner filled the mansion as Arto's calm voice called from the kitchen. "Dinner's ready. Everyone to the table."
The peerage — still buzzing with adrenaline and awe from their mission — filed in, faces still carrying that wide-eyed look. Rias had a streak of soot on her cheek, Akeno's hair was slightly singed at the ends, Kiba's clothes were torn in a few places, and Koneko looked like she had rolled in dust. They moved with the satisfied exhaustion of people who had just witnessed something legendary.
Arto took one look at them and chose not to ask about the mission details right away. He could see it in their eyes — they had seen Miyabi in full Tailless mode. That was enough.
"You all did well today," he said simply, voice warm. "Go clean up first. Dinner will wait." Rias gave him a grateful smile as the peerage headed upstairs to wash off the battlefield grime. The next to arrive were Grayfia and Albedo.
Grayfia walked in looking like she had just returned from an exceptionally successful shopping spree. Both wrists were adorned with dozens of small, elegant black-and-crimson cubes — the signature packaging of Atreides ateliers. Each cube contained a fully customized magic-tech product, neatly compressed for easy transport.
Albedo, still in her Baroness coat but with the mask now removed, walked beside her. The moment she saw Arto, her golden eyes lit up. She crossed the kitchen in a few quick steps, removed the last of her formal demeanor, and threw her arms around his neck, kissing him deeply and lovingly. "Missed you, my husband," she murmured against his lips before pulling back with a satisfied smile.
Grayfia set the stack of cubes on the counter with a soft clink and gave Arto a respectful nod. "Master. The ateliers are functioning beautifully. Baroness Atreides was an excellent guide."
Arto returned the nod, then turned to Grayfia with genuine curiosity. "How was your first experience shopping at Atreides Domain? Any feedback? Things you'd like to see improved?"
Grayfia began opening the cubes one by one, revealing the family-convenient magic-tech items she had ordered — all made within the day by the skilled craftsmen of the domain.
First came a set of self-heating serving plates that kept food at the perfect temperature without drying it out. Then a set of floating laundry orbs that automatically sorted, washed, dried, and folded clothes with gentle mana fields. A compact climate orb for the garden that could create localized weather patterns for optimal plant growth.
A set of adaptive lighting fixtures that adjusted brightness and color based on the mood and needs of the room's occupants. And finally, a small but elegant family communication hub — a crystalline sphere that could project secure video calls between any linked devices in the mansion, with perfect sound and privacy wards built in.
Grayfia arranged them neatly on the counter for everyone to see. "The service was excellent," she said, voice calm and professional. "The Business Analysts were thorough and patient. They asked intelligent questions about my needs rather than pushing pre-made options. The craftsmen delivered everything on time and with impressive precision. The only minor suggestion I would make is adding a small 'express installation' option for customers who prefer not to do it themselves. Though…" she glanced at Arto with the faintest hint of a smile, "I already have the best mechanic in the Underworld at home."
Arto chuckled softly as he picked up one of the adaptive lighting fixtures, turning it over in his hands. "I'll make a note of that. And I'll handle the installation for you tonight after dinner. It's the least I can do for my favorite head maid."
Albedo leaned against his side, tail curling around his waist. "She ordered quite a lot. The ateliers were buzzing with excitement when they realized it was for someone close to the Baron." Grayfia gave a small, elegant nod. "I wanted to see the quality with my own eyes. It did not disappoint."
By the time the peerage returned downstairs — freshly showered and in comfortable clothes — the table was set, the food was hot, and the new Atreides magic-tech items were proudly displayed for everyone to admire. Rias's eyes lit up at the self-heating plates. "These are going to make family dinners so much easier!"
Koneko immediately gravitated toward the climate orb, curious about how it could help with her favorite garden plants. Nami was already calculating potential profit margins if they scaled similar convenience items for external sale.
[Timeskip: Brought to you by chibi Robin sleeping on the desk filled with intels about Arto]
The dinner table was alive with the warm clatter of plates and the rich aroma of Arto's cooking when Nami finally leaned forward, eyes bright with curiosity. "Okay, spill. These two clans — Shimotsuki and Hoshimi — sound like something out of a legend. Kiba, you've been researching them, right? Give me the rundown."
Kiba set his chopsticks down neatly and nodded, his expression turning serious but enthusiastic — the scholar-swordsman in him clearly enjoying the chance to share knowledge.
"Shimotsuki is the premier warrior clan guarding the Kyoto Youkai Faction. Their entire philosophy centers on individual honing. They train relentlessly with their blades, using a secret technique that gradually turns the sword into a 'black blade' through years of combat, discipline, and war experience."
He paused, letting the weight sink in.
"Once a sword fully blackens, it develops its own soul — a living extension of the wielder. It becomes more than a weapon; it's part of them, amplifying their power to another level entirely. Shusui, the blade carried by Shimotsuki Ryuma, is considered extraordinary because he achieved a fully blackened sword at a very young age. That alone marked him as a prodigy, and his record in countless conflicts has proven he's one of the strongest sword masters in Japan."
Nami whistled low. "So they basically turn their swords into living partners. That's metal."
Kiba smiled faintly before continuing. "As for the Hoshimi clan, their entire legacy revolves around a single heirloom — the katana named Tailless, forged by the clan's founder, Hoshimi Maetoku. The sword is passed down through generations. Each heir attempts to fully wield it. Success means becoming the undisputed leader, inheriting the accumulated power and experience of every past wielder who mastered it. Failure… usually means death or madness."
He glanced at Rias and Akeno, who had just witnessed Miyabi in action. "What happened to Miyabi is the classic case of someone who couldn't completely tame Tailless. The sword's accumulated power overwhelms them, turning the wielder into a living weapon driven by the bloodlust of all the failed predecessors. The clan either puts them down, lets them self-destruct, or deploys them as a strategic 'nuclear option' — an unstoppable force of slaughter."
Koneko, who had been quietly eating, added in her usual flat tone: "Miyabi was that force tonight. She moved like death itself — calm, fluid, but every strike was final." Akeno nodded, a small shiver running through her. "It was captivating and terrifying at the same time."
Kiba continued, drawing the contrast clearly. "The training regimens are fundamentally different. Shimotsuki focuses on honing personal power, strength, endurance, and technique, building a deep bond with their blade until it blackens. It takes decades for most — Ryuma was a once-in-a-generation talent. Hoshimi, on the other hand, emphasizes extreme self-control, strategy, and mental calmness to tame Tailless. Their path is shorter but far more dangerous."
He set his hands on the table, summarizing neatly. "To put it bluntly: a Hoshimi leader who fully masters Tailless would likely be stronger than a Shimotsuki leader in raw power. But an army of Shimotsuki warriors, each wielding a blackened blade, would overwhelm an army of Hoshimi. That imbalance creates a perfect equilibrium between the two clans — one side has the ultimate spear, the other has the unbreakable shield wall."
Nami leaned back, processing it all with wide eyes. "So we've got one clan turning swords into soul-bonded extensions of themselves, and another clan playing Russian roulette with an ancestral super-weapon that can turn its wielder into a walking apocalypse. No wonder Miyabi left such an impression."
Rias smiled tiredly, poking at her food. "After seeing her tonight, I finally get why the Agency was so desperate to bring her back under control rather than just eliminate her." Arto, who had been quietly listening while serving seconds, gave a small nod.
"Both clans are terrifying in their own right. Kyoto is lucky to have them as guardians — in very different ways." The table fell into a comfortable lull as everyone continued eating, the stories of the day blending with the warmth of family dinner. Kuroka, still in cat form on Koneko's lap, let out a lazy purr. "Sounds like fun. Maybe I should go watch next time."
Koneko just sighed and scratched behind her sister's ears. Arto watched them all with a quiet, content smile — the weight of his own secrets still lingering in the back of his mind, but softened by the simple joy of this moment.
The dinner table had settled into that comfortable post-meal lull — plates mostly cleared, warm lights glowing, everyone leaning back with the satisfied tiredness of a long day. Arto was just about to suggest dessert when Nami suddenly straightened in her seat, eyes sparkling with that familiar mix of excitement and mischief.
"Alright, since we're doing show-and-tell tonight…" She glanced at Robin, who gave a small, elegant nod of permission. "Robin and I have something to share too. And it's all about the owner of this mansion — our beloved boss, Arto Abyssgard."
The entire table went quiet. Rias paused mid-sip of tea. Akeno's head tilted curiously. Koneko and Kuroka both perked up. Grayfia and Albedo exchanged a quick glance. Even Kiba set his chopsticks down.
Nami leaned forward, voice dropping into her best storyteller mode. "So, today Arto dragged me into Sector 80 — his private interdimensional portal lab. He's been working on something huge: a stable gateway to the Void between worlds. Not just hopping between planets in our reality, but crossing into entirely different realities. He calls the navigation system the INA — Inter-dimensional Navigating Algorithm. The idea is we could access infinite resources, infinite possibilities… but that's not even the craziest part."
She paused for dramatic effect, then pointed straight at Arto. "We finally got the first prototype open. The suction was insane — everything not nailed down got yanked toward the Void. Robin and I managed to hold on, but Arto got pulled straight through."
Rias's eyes widened. "Wait — he got sucked into the actual Void?!"
Nami nodded vigorously. "Yep. We thought we'd lost him. But when we looked… he was just floating there. Completely fine. No decompression, no freezing, no exploding from pressure difference. His lungs had even stopped because there's no air, but his body was functioning like it was on a Sunday stroll."
She turned to Robin, handing her the stage.
Robin took over smoothly, voice calm and precise. "I scanned him immediately. Cellular integrity intact. No tissue damage. No vacuum trauma. He was surviving — thriving — in hard vacuum at absolute zero. The only anomaly was that his body seemed to be… recognized by the Void. It was exerting a gentle, stabilizing pressure that kept his atoms in their proper configuration. Like the Void itself considers him native."
She looked directly at Arto, eyes soft but serious. "Then he reached out and manipulated something we can only call 'Void matter' — an absence given physical form. He shaped it into a sphere and tossed it back into the lab. When it crossed the threshold, it became a perfect ball of nothingness — defined only by the way normal atoms bent around its boundary. Nami touched it… and immediately felt the vacuum damage. But Arto? He was untouched."
Nami jumped back in, unable to contain herself. "So here's the big question we're all thinking now: What is Arto? He said he fell into the Void as a broken soul fragment and arrived here with a fully intact body. Where did that body come from? How can it survive — even command — the Void like it's its natural habitat? He's not just a superhuman anymore. He's something the emptiness between realities accepts."
The table was dead silent for several heartbeats. Rias stared at Arto with wide, worried eyes. Akeno's usual playful smile had faded into quiet concern. Koneko's ears twitched under her glamour. Kuroka's tails stopped moving. Grayfia's silver gaze was steady, but her hands had tightened slightly in her lap. Albedo's golden eyes shimmered with protective intensity.
Arto sat there, letting the weight of their stares settle on him. He looked down at his hands for a moment, then back up at his family — his voice quiet, honest, and a little vulnerable. "I don't have the answers. Not yet. The Void… it feels familiar. Like a place I wandered for thousands of years and somehow… became part of. Or it became part of me. I don't know which."
He gave them all a small, tired smile. "But I'm still me. Still the same man who loves waking up surrounded by all of you. Still the same man who wants to protect this family more than anything. Whatever I am… whatever happened to me in that place… I'm still yours. If you'll still have me."
The silence stretched for another heartbeat. Then Rias stood up, walked around the table, and wrapped her arms around his neck from behind, pressing her cheek to his. "Of course we'll still have you, idiot. Scars, Void powers, mysterious past and all."
Akeno was next — sliding into his lap and kissing his scarred cheek. "You survived the Abyss once. You'll survive us knowing the truth too." Robin reached over and gently squeezed his hand. "We'll figure it out together. No rush, my dearest innovator"
Nami grinned, though her eyes were suspiciously shiny. "Yeah, well… as long as you keep letting me manage your ridiculous wealth, you can be as weirdly Void-native as you want." Grayfia gave a small, elegant nod. "You are our Master. Our family. That has not changed."
Albedo simply crawled into his lap beside Akeno, tails wrapping around all three of them. "My husband. My love. Whatever you are… you are mine." Koneko and Kuroka both moved closer — Koneko leaning against his side, Kuroka jumping into his lap in cat form and purring loudly.
Kiba offered a quiet, respectful smile from across the table. "We're with you, Arto-senpai."
The heavy conversation about Arto's mysterious connection to the Void gradually eased. The family had said what needed to be said — acceptance, love, unwavering support. The tension in the air softened into something warmer, more hopeful.
Rias was the first to voice the question everyone else was clearly thinking. "So… the portal," she said, leaning forward with bright, curious eyes. "Have you actually reached another world yet?"
Nami shook her head, though her grin was still sharp and excited. "Not yet. I'm still building the INA — the Inter-dimensional Navigating Algorithm. It'll take a while to finish the full framework and documentation, but the good news is we can already detect and map other realities pretty easily now that we have a stable gateway into the actual Void between worlds."
She tapped her tablet, pulling up a preliminary scan log for everyone to see. "The real problem is the distance. Even if we locate a target reality, the gap between our world and another one is… massive. We're not talking about jumping to another planet in the same universe. We're talking about crossing the sea between entirely separate realities."
Robin nodded, setting her teacup down with a soft clink. "I've been thinking about a potential solution. If Arto can manipulate Void matter the way we saw today, he may be able to bend the space between two realities — essentially folding the distance like a sheet of paper. That could let us establish a stable connection without needing an absurd amount of mana."
She looked at Arto, then around the table. "But that would require two conditions to be practical.
First: Arto must be able to manipulate the Void on a much larger scale. Small-scale control is already proven. If he can scale it up, we'll need to train that ability carefully.
Second: We must find a way to replicate what Arto does naturally. Relying on him to personally open and maintain every connection would be extremely inefficient and leave him tied down constantly."
Nami leaned back, arms crossed. "Right now, the portal only opens safely into the Void itself. Going any further isn't an option yet. It's too dangerous — no atmosphere, absolute zero, unknown pressures. Until we make real leaps in both the algorithm and the bending technique, no one steps through. Not even Arto without heavy monitoring."
Arto gave a small nod of agreement, his hand resting on Nami's shoulder. "We'll take it one step at a time. Safety first. No rushing into the unknown until we're sure we can come back." Rias grinned, though there was a spark of adventure in her eyes. "So we're basically building the first interdimensional highway… with the most overpowered tollbooth operator in existence."
Akeno laughed softly. "And our tollbooth operator is the same man who can float in absolute nothingness like it's a swimming pool." Robin's smile was small but warm as she looked at Arto. "We'll figure it out. Together."