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.

  “Can you contact Lola for me?” I mumbled into Lucy’s shoulder as I snuggled closer, stealing a bit more of her warmth like a blanket thief. Her jacket smelled faintly like rain, vanilla, and a work coffee machine. It felt… safe. “I… think she can help.”

  Lucy’s grin stretched wide, too smug for someone who had me basically draped over her like a needy cat. “Of course. And we can plan your daring rescue… after I finish work,” she added with a wink so exaggerated I could practically hear the sparkle.

  I let out a breathy laugh and mock-gasped. “Wow. Priorities.”

  “Anything else you need?” she asked, deadpan. “Feed your digital goldfish? Water your plants?” Her composure cracked into giggles when I let out the world’s most theatrical groan and rolled my eyes so hard I might’ve seen last Tuesday.

  “Don’t worry, I know your skill with plants!”

  “It was one time!” I protested, voice climbing. “One time I swapped the whiskey bottle with water! Years ago!”

  “It was three months ago, Charlie.”

  I blinked. “…Uhm, was it?” My brain did a quick timeline recalculation. “Okay, fair. But still. Traumatizing.”

  Her smile softened, but something flickered behind it, warmth interwoven with something more unreadable. I buried my face against her sleeve to shut it out. The fabric was scratchy from rain, but familiar. “Yeah,” I whispered, quieter this time.

  She didn’t press. Just stroked my back once, then pivoted with the grace of someone who knew exactly when to stop digging. “Alright, then.” She cleared her throat.

  “Instead of wallowing in your tragic floral sins, tell me your plan for tomorrow.”

  Back to business. I breathed out slowly and let my fingers curl in her jacket. The warmth in my chest didn’t fade, but it settled. “Okay,” I said, eyes closed.

  “I shouldn’t still be under that damn slave spell,” I muttered, chewing the thought like gum gone bitter. “I felt it snap. It hurt, like a string made of fire popping inside my chest, but it vanished way too fast. Blink-of-an-eye fast. Compared to how it was stitched into me, it was almost… lazy.”

  Lucy’s eyes lit up. “Perfect opportunity.”

  “Exactly.” I grinned like a drunk who just found the back door to the whiskey room. “So I’m gonna play the meek little elf, nod when they talk, smile when they yell, and wait for the first proper fight. Then? I’m gone.”

  “I like that idea.” Her voice dipped lower, thoughtful. Then her jaw tensed. “What about Karzi?” She hesitated. “No… no, you’re right. I should be the one to do it.”

  That caught me. I twisted sideways, flopped dramatically onto her lap like a purring drama queen, and stared up at her. “You?”

  “She hurt you.”

  Three words. Just three. But the weight in them? Heavy enough to crack a glass. I blinked up at her, speechless for a second. Then just nodded. “That’s all…” I whispered. “That’s all I’ve got right now. Can’t plan for more than that.”

  Her fingers slid gently through my hair. Slow, comforting strokes.

  My head sank deeper into her thigh. Soft denim, warmer than it had any right to be. I could fall asleep like this if I didn’t have a whole second life burning like a landmine in the back of my brain.

  “It’s okay,” Lucy breathed. “Instead, tell me, what’s it like? Being a girl? An elf?”

  I exhaled. Closed my eyes. Her hand was too damn good to waste brain cycles resisting. “Honestly? I used to think it would change everything. Like the second I woke up with boobs and pretty eyes, my life would become some magical fairy tale.”

  Lucy cleared her throat, loudly and pointedly.

  “Lucy…” I opened one eye and rolled it. Then giggled and wrapped my arms around her leg. “Okay, yes, it is a kind of magical. But not in the way I expected.”

  “How so?” she asked with a curious voice.

  “Well… I think I act differently now. Not because I’m a girl, but because I think I’m supposed to act differently, y’know? Maybe it’s hormones. Maybe it’s the pointy ears. Or maybe it’s just me, leaning into it.”

  She nodded and asked, “how do you feel about that?”

  I squinted. “You sound like my therapy AI.”

  “You didn’t let me speak, Miss Charlie,” Jerry buzzed from my wrist, dry as toast.

  Lucy laughed and shrugged. “I might have read a book or two.”

  “Lucy…” I warned, narrowing my eyes.

  “Wait, wait!” She cupped my cheeks with both hands like she was about to sculpt me. “I wanted to help!”

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  “I need a friend, not a self-help seminar—mmf!” I tried to wiggle free as she squished my face into a duck pout.

  She grinned like a goblin. “Can’t help it. You’re too damn cute.”

  I groaned and flopped back. “This is abuse.”

  “Therapeutic abuse,” she corrected, and giggled again. “But I can’t stay up with you all night,” she murmured, her voice tinged with that kind of quiet guilt that hits harder than any scream.

  I glanced sideways. Just a glance. But that was enough; her expression hit me like a shot of bad whiskey. Eyes soft, mouth pressed in that stubborn-lonely line.I melted. Just a little.

  Maybe a lot.

  “It’s okay,” I whispered, trying to sound nonchalant but landing somewhere between awkward and heartbreakingly lame. “When I’m free, I’ll sleep during the day. Rimelion has a different time zones, right? So if I time it right, night there could be day here.”

  She raised a brow. “Don’t forget the cultists.”

  “You mean priests.”

  “Cultists,” she repeated, deadly serious. “Evil.”

  “Awwh, come on.” I dragged myself upright, stretching like a cat. “They’re not evil, they just have… incredibly questionable hiring practices.”

  Before I could stand, she shoved me right back down. My head landed on her thighs again with an oomph, her jeans warm and worn soft in that perfect way. She gave a noncommittal shrug. “I kill them on sight on the test server.”

  I inhaled, about to defend the maybe-not-so-evil faith-brigade, but she cut me off with a finger on my lips.

  “I need to sleep,” she whispered, brushing a thumb along my cheek like I was some fragile creature instead of a multi-dimensional war wolf criminal. “But you can stay with me. Be safe. Curl up, browse vids. Be here… until Rimelion pulls you back.”

  I blinked. “Really?”

  She nodded, and there was something warm and sleepy in her smile. “Really.”

  I was yanked from sleep by a bang on the door that could’ve woken the dead, or at least a moderately hungover mercenary. My first instinct was to yell something charming about delivery drivers needing a hobby—

  Oh.

  Right.

  Not on Earth anymore. I was a slave.

  The realization hit like cold water, and I sucked in a breath sharp enough to hurt. My hands flew over my body in a frantic, groggy pat-down. Neck, wrists, chest.

  No metal worm chewing on my spine.

  Weird. I felt… normal. No compulsion. No voice whispering “Obey” in my head like a bad ASMR track. Just a familiar gnawing hunger that started growling in my gut like an angry raccoon. Right on schedule.

  Groaning, I peeled myself out of the bed like wet laundry and shoved myself into the same stiff, smelly clothes from yesterday or the day before that. I grimaced. How did Karzi, Ms. Super Sniff Wolf Boss, stand being around me? I reeked like swamp water mixed with...

  Ugh, not even wanna imagine.

  One grumble later, I found a faucet and rinsed the worst of the filth off. Rimelion, for all its “immersion,” could really use an upgrade in the plumbing department.

  I did what I could, which wasn’t much, and staggered down to the pub. Or was it an inn? Didn’t matter, same level of grime, same assortment of masters and their not-so-happy slaves trying not to get kicked in the face.

  I spotted her right away.

  Dame Karzi, perched at the bar like the alfa of chaos herself, gnawing on a steak with her bare hands like she’d just hunted it down with her teeth. “Sit and eat! Need energy today!” she barked.

  That voice hit me like a hammer.

  And… nothing.

  No sudden need to bow. No surge of joy at praise. No puppeteering of my limbs. Just me, awkwardly frozen mid-step, processing the fact that my body hadn’t instinctively obeyed like yesterday’s good little NPC.

  Still, I wasn’t about to tempt fate by standing there like a confused idiot, so I walked over and sat beside her. Not because I was ordered to. Because I was hungry and pretending I still wore the leash. Karzi, thankfully, was more invested in slathering her face with meat juice than in watching me. Her focus stayed on the slab of beef she was devouring with barbaric gusto.

  My breakfast arrived in the form of a bowl of “peasant porridge,” which was exactly as depressing as it sounded… wet, bland, and suspiciously gray. But my stomach didn’t care about dignity, so I inhaled the first bowl and, still unsatisfied, lifted my chin.

  The silent barman didn’t ask questions. Just dropped a second helping in front of me like he was feeding a stray dog.

  I ate. Quietly. Thinking.

  Because if the spell was really broken… then today wasn’t just another day. It was my first move.

  Karzi took us out to “hunt.”

  Or something. Honestly, I’d tuned her out somewhere between “wolves are born leaders” and “don’t whine, you get to level.” I only reacted when she barked out my name, or “girly,” which had become her favorite insult/term of endearment.

  I played the obedient little elf, even throwing in a fake smile or two like she was doing me a favor by letting me train instead of, I don’t know, being mauled by one of her overgrown dogs.

  The scenery at least did its best to cheer me up. The endless flatness of the steppe rolled, low hills rising like the earth had finally decided to get a charm. A few scraggly trees dotted the ridges, defiant survivors clinging to rocky soil against wind that had no chill and even less mercy.

  I might’ve even smiled. Briefly. It didn’t last.

  Because as we crested the next hill, I saw it.

  The ground ahead swelled in unnatural lumps. Mounds, towers, tunnels, all parts of a massive termite colony.

  It stretched like a cancer over the land, some towers as tall as small buildings, honeycomb-colored and covered in a thin crust of dust and cracked resin. But it wasn’t just above ground. Long scars in the earth, sinkholes and collapsed shafts, hinted at a vast subterranean labyrinth crawling beneath us.

  The kind of place you step into and maybe never see sunlight again… I wanna!

  Karzi pulled her mount to a halt and kicked me off it with her usual charm. “Down you go, girly.” I landed with a grunt and an eye-roll, brushing dirt from my tunic as the rest of the wolves began lining up the elves like this was summer camp.

  “Altandai guild pays us actual gold for clearing these pests,” she announced proudly, pacing in front of the freshly-arranged line of would-be cannon fodder. “They’re not too hard to kill, unless you’re stupid. So don’t be. You can fight as much as you want today.”

  She paused for dramatic effect. “Avoid the warriors. You’re not them,” she laughed like it was the punchline to the funniest joke in the world. And howled. One of the elves coughed. He earned a growl and smacking.

  “Fight in groups. Use your brains. Pick something you can actually lift,” she gestured toward the supply wagon rumbling to a stop nearby. “And don’t embarrass me.”

  With a shrug that was probably too casual for a “slave soldier,” I joined the others, heading toward the wagon. It was loaded with weapons, most dull, many notched, all likely looted from better warriors now dead.

  I eyed a two-handed sword like it was a long-lost dream. My fingers wrapped around the hilt and—oh! I could actually lift it!

  …For about three seconds.

  Then gravity did its thing, and the blade clanged to the ground like a sarcastic anvil. I winced and quickly shoved it back before Karzi saw and decided I needed extra “training.”

  Instead, I settled for a battered one-handed sword and a wooden shield that looked like it had seen one too many bar fights. The moment I equipped them, the system didn’t throw a fit. No “Invalid class!” no red warning banner. No mana-draining penalty.

  I grinned.

  Looks like this mage’s going melee.