I practically sprinted outside. It would be unthinkable, disgraceful even, not to obey. Well, I could resist, but…

  I stood waiting obediently outside, just as Dame Karzi had commanded. But it felt off somehow, like sitting alone at a bar, nursing cheap whiskey, fully aware that Adam was probably drumming his fingers impatiently, checking his watch every few seconds while wondering if I’d show up.

  Hold on. Sleep! My body would pull me back to Earth as soon as I closed my eyes. That would mean leaving Dame Karzi unattended, which felt suddenly catastrophic. Except, did it really? It wasn’t like she forbade sleep. She’d wake me if I were truly needed, wouldn’t she?

  Damn, obedience was exhausting, especially when I had to half-fake it.

  The wait stretched on endlessly, shadows creeping across the ground as Urbeth finished binding each new slave. When the last one finally stumbled out, they looked… not good, with their shoulders slumped.

  I felt oddly compelled to spill every little secret in my head to Dame Karzi, but I fought it back. She didn’t know Earth existed, didn’t care, didn’t need to. But if she asked? Ugh, the thought alone made me cringe. Stupid bindings.

  Finally, Dame Karzi burst out, prancing with the same confidence as a wolf leading a pack, with her face lit with satisfaction. “Alright, new orders! Nobody escapes!” She barked a laugh. I smiled reflexively. Of course, nobody would run. The twisted thing biting into our necks ensured that.

  Well, I could and would.

  “You’ll get your food, then sleep in the shed behind Urbeth’s place. Tomorrow we level you,” she said gleefully. “Need you nice and strong, so I get good gold.” Another throaty chuckle as her gaze swept across the exhausted group.

  Her eyes suddenly landed on me, and her grin widened. “You, girly, come with me.”

  Every muscle in my body responded instantly, moving to her side with disgusting eagerness, even as my mind recoiled. I could protest, but then I would fake it anyway.

  Was I resisting? Was resisting bad? Urbeth had said something about my mind being free, but why would I fight against her orders? She wasn’t a good person? The warmth in my chest at her approval argued otherwise.

  Ugh.

  “You’re a mage, so you’re special,” Karzi said as we walked toward the pub, the dirt crunching beneath our feet. My heart leapt foolishly at her praise, even as I internally groaned at my own weakness. Special. Ugh, that shouldn’t make me feel good. “We’ll get you to max level,” she continued smugly. “Thanks to that elven cunt queen, no more level cap. Should be easier to fetch a good price, eh?”

  “Yes, Queen Irwen,” I murmured obediently, barely keeping the bitterness out of my voice.

  Karzi threw her head back, howling like an absolute lunatic. It was irritating as hell. No, wait; it was magnificent? No! Screw that. Stupid mud wolves, half wolves and their ridiculous theatrics.

  “Hah, yeah, something like that,” Karzi grunted as we pushed through the pub’s heavy wooden door.

  Immediately, the noisy chaos inside dropped to pin-drop silence. Dozens of eyes turned warily toward Karzi, recognition and dread mingling on faces worn by drink and hard labor.

  “Have fun, you drunken lazycubs!” she bellowed cheerfully, and instantly, everyone returned to their booze and gambling, eager to ignore the dangerous predator in their midst.

  Karzi tugged my arm roughly, steering me upstairs to a small landing. She flung open a battered door and revealed my accommodations with exaggerated pride. “Your room, mage girl! Enjoy your special privilege!” She erupted with laughter at her own terrible joke. No, actually, it was a pretty solid joke.

  No… it sucked. Ugh, internal conflict was giving me a headache.

  She stomped away down the hall, still chuckling. I stepped hesitantly into the cramped, closet-sized room. The space was stifling, smelling strongly of stale sweat and cheap ale, but at least there was an actual bed, even if the mattress was stained and sagging.

  Not that it mattered anyway. I’d soon be waking up on Earth, back in a cleaner, saner place. At least in comparison.

  There was no food, but finally, one of Karzi’s orders aligned with my own desperate need for escape. With relief, I dropped onto the grimy bed, grimacing slightly as my head hit the sour-smelling pillow.

  Something inside me snapped, like hot wire ping-snapped across the bone. White fire ate the back of my skull… and then it simply stopped. Cut to black.

  Reboot.

  When the light bled back in, I was exactly where I’d left off: curled in Lucy’s bell-tower alcove, blanket half-twisted around my legs, rain drumming the slate roof overhead like a thousand tapping fingers.

  If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  I blinked. Once, twice. My heart was still hammering Dame-Karzi-wolf-tempo, but the slave oppression was gone, no humming curse inside my veins.

  “Well,” I said, voice raw. “That’s one way to jailbreak.” I flexed my neck, half-expecting silver threads to wriggle back up like horror-movie worms. Nothing.

  Did I just speed-run getting rid of mind-control? Tell me I did.

  “If I hurl myself off this ledge and get yoinked back to Rimelion,” I muttered to the rafters, “do I re-materialize at terminal velocity?”

  Probably not a good science experiment.

  Jerry vibrated against my wrist, tone dry as spilled whiskey. “Given recent experience, Miss Charlie, I would discourage further empirical testing of gravity across realms.”

  “Party pooper,” I sighed, and then the flood hit me. Laughter bubbled up, manic and shaky, threatening to spill into a full-on howl. I slammed a hand over my own mouth.

  No.

  Karzi’s wolf karaoke had forever ruined howling for me.

  Jerry cleared his nonexistent throat. “Welcome back, by the way.”

  “Oh—OH!” My stomach dropped. “You vanished too! Thought—”

  “I did,” he said, voice pitched calm. “My runtime ceased when you crossed the threshold. From my perspective, there was no gap. Internal clock shows zero milliseconds.” A moment. “Existentially fascinating, moderately terrifying.”

  “Great.” I sagged into the mattress, staring at the cobwebbed beams overhead. “Call Lucy?”

  “Already done. She sprinted out the door the moment I sent her message back.” Jerry paused, softer. “I suspected you needed a human in the room more than more data right now.”

  Before I could answer, the door banged open and Lucy exploded into the alcove, coat plastered to her from drizzle, cheeks flushed, eyes wide with half hope, half panic. She basically tackled me, rolling us into a heap of blanket and limbs.

  “I saw you vanish!” she breathed, over and over, like a mantra. “It’s real—it’s real—it’s real.”

  “It’s real.” My own voice cracked on the third echo. “And it’s a nightmare. It is real. It’s real. Rimelion isn’t a game, and I was foolish to think so. Until now, I fully didn’t understand. That bitch and that stupid dwarf made me.”

  She drew back, hands framing my face, scanning me for cracks. “The binding, does it still work? Can it order you around here?”

  “Kind of yes,” I started, but she yanked me into another rib-crushing hug before the sentence finished. The warmth in my chest this time was mine, not Karzi mandated.

  It felt… human.

  Lucy finally leaned away, irises blazing detective-mode amber. “Explain. Now. I spent the entire day digging caravan routes, binding-stone schematics, Altandai smugglers… you name it. How to break you out of there, how… Not. Everything says you can’t snap a silver brand. Only override it with a stronger one. I can get you one, but it is expensive.”

  I flashed every tooth in my… elven… mouth. “Right, so, picture this: brand ties body and soul to a stone. But my soul punched out for Earth.” I tapped my sternum. “That thing tried to strangle fresh air, found nothing to leash, and glitched itself into scrap metal. Inter-dimensional exception error. Boop. Seed probably fixed it.”

  Lucy stared. Blinked twice. Then dissolved into delighted, slightly hysterical laughter, smacking my shoulder. “You walking patch-note! You exploit everything. You didn’t change at all!”

  “The best tester,” I said, leaning into her laughter, letting it scrub the last of Karzi’s voice from my ears. Outside, moon light trickled through the bell-tower slats. I inhaled damp air that smelled of stone and rain instead of scorched fur.

  The only wolf in my world at that moment was the wind howling past the spire, and that sound, finally, felt good.

  After a long silence, I whispered, “I need to kill her.”

  The words just… fell out. Heavy. I stared into the shadows slanting across the alcove wall. “I…” My voice cracked like a bottle under pressure. “I need to.”

  Lucy didn’t pull away. Instead, she leaned harder against my shoulder, the full length of her pressed into me like an anchor. “Kill someone in cold blood?” she murmured, her breath warm against my skin. “Charlie, don’t forget… this isn’t a game.”

  “No kidding,” I said, my laugh flat. My fingers drifted into her hair and started absently weaving through it. Soft and a little damp from the rain. Comforting. “Trust me, they really went the extra mile to get that message across. Rimelion isn’t playtime anymore. I’m not a player. No respawns. No checkpoints. I die, it’s game over, hardcut to black.”

  She closed her eyes at my touch, resting her head against me like a cat soaking up the warmth. “And despite that, you still want to do it?”

  I stared at the rafters. “Will you help me?”

  The moment the words left my mouth, guilt lanced straight through my gut. What was I even asking? That she become complicit? But Lucy didn’t hesitate. Not for a breath. “Yes.”

  The pressure in my chest released like a steam valve. I hadn’t even realized how tight I’d been holding it.

  “But why?” she asked quietly, still curled against me.

  “You don’t understand,” I said, and my voice turned brittle. “You can’t. Mind control… true, actual, soul-deep control… It’s… the worst thing I’ve ever felt. And that includes the time I mixed Irish cream with cheap whiskey at Patrick’s place.”

  She winced and snorted. “That bad, huh?”

  “Worse. Don’t ever try a boilermaker with bottom-shelf vodka instead of beer. That physically tried to murder me.”

  Lucy laughed lightly. The sound filled the tower like sunshine through cracked stone. “I still have that promised visit to your pub,” she added, nudging me.

  My eyebrows furrowed. “I… promised that?” I blinked. “Wow. Memory’s a little scrambled eggs right now, but sure, we’ll go. After the murder and revolution, obviously.”

  She rolled her eyes and sat up. Her expression shifted, turned razor sharp, all strategist now. “Alright. Serious mode. How do we do this? I assume step one isn’t ‘stab her in the neck and pray’?”

  “No,” I sighed. “Unfortunately. I don’t know when that wolf-faced sadist is gonna yank me back. Could be minutes. Could be while I’m mid-sentence.”

  Lucy’s jaw tightened. “So we need to plan while we’ve got the window.”

  “Exactly.” I shifted to face her, legs crossed, blanket tangled around one ankle like a sleepy vine. “I need coordination. I know it’s hard to gather players to cross the plains, forest or whatever is between us, but… You can save me in Altandai. With my mind now being free, I may have a chance to escape, but… If I remember correctly, they kill slaves on sight.”

  She nodded, eyes burning like firelight. “I’m with you.”

  My chest tightened again, but for a different reason this time. “Thanks,” I said, softer than before. “I don’t know if this’ll work, but… if I don’t come back next time—”

  “Stop.” Her tone cut clean through my spiral. “You will. And if not? I’ll drag you back myself.”

  God, she meant it. I saw it in her eyes.

  For once, I didn’t deflect with a joke. I just nodded, because if I spoke, I might cry. Again. And I was already pushing my daily emotional breakdown quota.