1st Person View | Kaiser's PoV
Stone passes under my boots as I walk beside Hakuryū— err, do I call him Kensai? I think in Japan they call each other by their last name. Maybe I need to call him Kensai-san or something similar.
I glance over at him. He moves at my pace, his hands folded behind his back. The wooden geta he wears clicks softly on polished obsidian tile.
Looking out a nearby window, I see the fortress spreading outward in every direction—a sprawling gothic colossus of black stone and ash-gray spires, each tower as tall as a skyscraper; arched bridges connect them across impossible distances.
Below the window stretches a vast courtyard of shadowed pines and silver-leafed trees. Moonlight pools on polished stone paths, winding through ornate gardens, past reflective black ponds.
It's breathtaking, and absolutely not something I would have ever come up with.
Hakuryū follows my gaze. "You have not walked the grounds in some time," he observes calmly. "The gardens have flourished during your rest."
He sounds pleased. Is he the garden's caretaker? I could honestly see him doing that.
I force my attention toward him. Though he stands relaxed, his spiritual presence is formidable.
We step out into the corridor. It opens into a balcony walkway overlooking the main courtyard. The night air is crisp and the stars above are dense.
Hakuryū walks beside me, hands tucked in his sleeves. "The others will be pleased to know you move freely," he says. "Some have speculated."
Speculated about what? Where I've been? Why I was gone?
Hakuryū continues. "When a ruler sleeps, the world shifts in small but dangerous ways. Some Hierarchies grew restless. Others withdrew into their obsessions. I am merely relieved to see order restored."
He chuckles. "I'm sure you know how Takahashi-chan gets when you're not around."
No I do not. I don't even know who that is.
Hakuryū turns his head slightly. "If there is anything you wish to know before we arrive, I am at your service."
I speak with the intention needed to convey Kaiser's version of speech: [Continue.]
Hakuryū inclines his head. "Of course. Allow me to brief you."
Walking down the stairs, we step out into the gardens through a tall archway.
The chill of the night air feels like a warm blanket. Moonlight rests on blood-red lilies and ivory blossoms, the petals trembling in the breeze. Iron arbours curl over stone paths, and lanterns burn with fire. Each breath I take fogs faintly behind the mask's vents.
The air smells like mint and wet dirt. Manicured hedges twist into geometric patterns, and further off, bioluminescent flowers glow blue beneath the trees.
"Before we speak formally," Kensai says, "I should let you know: as per protocol, the full convocation has been summoned. All the Hierarchies have been gathered. They await you in the throne hall. The meeting is set to begin in—" He lifts a finger. "Twenty-seven minutes."
Thirty minutes to face every boss Lucy designed? That's not nearly enough time to figure out how to be Kaiser.
Hakuryū walks with his hands behind his back. "Most Hierarchies have demonstrated their steadfast loyalty in your absence. A few, however, require reinforcement of purpose. Your return will resolve this."
Resolve? He obviously means intimidate.
"And," Hakuryū adds, casting a quick sideways glance at me, "Hierarchy Two has been particularly eager. He grows restless."
I figure "restless" in Hakuryū-speak means "potential problem." Good to know. We continue past a carved obsidian fountain that runs with silver water.
"Also," he adds, "your arrival has caused… how shall I say… significant interest. Many of the generals are already wondering who you will favor."
Once again, I don't know what he's talking about. Generals? Who I'll favor? It sounds like an important decision, so I guess I should say something to him.
[I've not decided anything.]
"Oh, I know." He smiles. "Which is precisely why they are panicking."
Whew. Seems like that was the right answer.
We walk beneath an archway formed by two ancient, twisted trees. Their branches intertwine into a vaulted shape, humming with energy. I feel the tiniest tug in the pit of my stomach.
Lucy made these people, as well as this entire fortress. She knew how to write villains a little too well. Walking into a room full of them as their supposed master doesn't bring me joy.
Not to mention, this place is insane.
Hakuryū pauses mid-step, as if he senses the ripples of thought behind me. He smiles faintly.
"I see the Bastion surprises you. It always does. Even those of us who have lived here for centuries find something new each night."
Centuries? I'd never learned the hierarchy lifespans in Sablethorn; never got that far into the lore. But clearly Lucy did, because Hakuryū says it casually.
He motions toward the towering spires. "This fortress responds to your presence. To your will. Even its shadows shift in anticipation of you."
After walking for a time, we reach a long, arched bridge suspended over a pond so dark it reflects nothing—not even the moon. The bridge leads straight to a set of towering obsidian doors engraved with runes that pulse slowly.
Hakuryū turns to me before we enter.
"My lord… shall I announce you?" His red eyes gleam in the darkness.
I step forward, trying my best to keep every movement smooth.
[There is no need.]
Hakuryū bows, then presses a hand to the stone. A bright green glow emits, and we step through.
We step out into a sprawling area. The throne hall is massive, a long, cavernous chamber lit by fire. On one end sits a stone throne, with three worn steps leading to it. Before it stretches a stone table, rectangular and scarred.
Eleven chairs surround it, but only seven are occupied; all people I recognize.
Suddenly, a window materializes in front of me, black and sleek.
[Hierarchy Index — Requested Profiles Delivered]
Requested? I didn't request anything, but I'm not complaining. Also, this black and white system window looks super cool.
One by one, the profiles unfold like cards being set on a table.
Hierarchy Ten — Crownmind.
Real Name: Lǐ Xuánwēi
Hierarchy Nine — The Daughter of Destruction.
Real Name: Ori-9 / Mirei Takahashi
Hierarchy Eight — Actually, where is eight? I don't see her anywhere.
Hierarchy Seven — The Jester of Parallax.
Real Name: Lyssa Banks
Hierarchy Six — Rook of the Red Net.
Real Name: N/A - Referred to as "Rook"
Hierarchy Five — The Winter Tod.
Real Name: Sable Tod
True Spirit Name: Eimhear Fionnghuala Sìleas Mairead Eilidh Ròs Brìghde Aoibheann Catrìona Iseabail Mòrag Ealasaid Fionnuala Sorcha Mairead Eilidh Ròs Brìghde Aoibheann Catrìona
Well, that's quite the mouthful…
Hierarchy Four — Øneblitz.
Real Name: Kofi "Blitz" Mensah
Hierarchy Three is standing right next to me — a little too close, actually. My eyes flick up to him.
He smiles. Does anything get past this guy?
Hierarchy Two — Starfall.
Real Name: Nash Calder
Hierarchy One — The Fallen
Real Name: Unpronounceable in human phonetics - Referred to as "One"
Hierarchy Zero — The Necromancer
Real Name: N/A - Referred to as "Zero"
Two more seats near the end are also empty. As I'm mulling over the recognizable figures, Kensai leans close and whispers: "Forgive them my lord, but Zero and One are absent. Pressing matters that we will discuss later."
Relief floods me. I've never fought them, and I've never even seen them, though I'm sure they were always meant to be end-of-story monsters. If they were here, I don't think I could fake anything. The less people I have to face, the better.
The profiles slide shut. They also had information about signature abilities, personality traits and the like, but we should get this meeting started—though surprisingly, the Hierarchies don't seem to pay us much mind.
Because they're arguing. Actually—no, arguing isn't the right word.
They are… being insane.
Sable Tod is leaning over the table, tapping an ice dagger into it.
"…an' ah'm tellin' ye, hen, if ye an' me ever decided tae have steamy lesbian sex, th' whole fortress would benefit. Team morale'd go straight up, aye?" Sable finishes in a thick Scottish accent.
What kind of conversation did me and Kensai just walk into?
Lyssa blinks twice, lowering her cards onto the table and staring at Sable. "…dude, what the fuck are you even talking about?"
Sable sighs dramatically and taps her dagger again. "Fer th' last time, hen — bondin' builds trust. An' ye know damn well I'm right. Look at me an' Rook. We share a hot spring once, an' suddenly we're communicatin' like champions."
Rook throws his hands up, horrified. "Whoa-whoa-whoa, we did not share— Sable, I told you to get out, and you said 'no' and threw a tantrum like a little kid!"
"Aye," Sable says, shrugging. "An' ye couldnae stop me." She turns back to Lyssa. "So! Where were we? Right — steamy lesbian sex. Thoughts?"
Before Lyssa can respond, Øneblitz perks up. "Oho! Now we are talking!"
He leans forward. "Sister Lyssa, Sister Sable — ah beg, continue that thought. As my grandmother used to say, woyɛ fɛ dodo, beauty is a blessing! Eii, the two of you together? Ah, morale would explode!"
Lyssa stares at him, betrayed. "Bro. Why are you encouraging her?!"
Øneblitz shrugs cheerfully. "I am merely supporting good ideas, my friend. And this one? Hmm!" He gives a chef's-kiss gesture. "Perfect for building team unity. And if you require… supervision, hm? A referee? I volunteer my services."
Sable slaps the table. "See? See, hen? Blitz gets it!"
Starfall says nothing. He simply stares at the ceiling.
Crownmind quietly adjusts her veil. "I don't believe intercourse is on the agenda today."
Sable waves her off. "Weel maybe it should be—"
Kensai clears his throat.
The entire table freezes as seven heads turn toward the doorway. Their expressions cycle from annoyance, to confusion, to realization.
Sable's ice dagger slips through her fingers and shatters on the table.
"…Och." She swallows. "Ah've mucked this wan up, haven't I?"
Lyssa slowly covers her face with her hand.
Øneblitz's glowing eyes widen. "Ah… my Monarch."
And all at once, every Hierarchy rises from their seat. Many voices speak as one:
"Lord Kaiser."
For a second, I forget to breathe. They're all looking at me, seven pairs of eyes locking onto me.
I raise a hand — mostly because I don't know what else to do — and instinct takes over.
A line of pale text forms in the air in front of me:
< SIT. >
The response is immediate. Chairs scrape as every one of them obeys without hesitation.
I remain standing beside the massive throne at the head of the room: It'd feel way too awkward to sit in it.
Kensai steps forward. "Now that Lord Kaiser has joined us," he says, bowing slightly in my direction, "I will formally convene the meeting of the Hierarchies. Eight present. Two absent."
There's a collective stillness at the mention of Zero and One.
"We begin," Kensai continues, "with the matter of the Recalibration. Our fortress has fully shifted into its intended plane. Human awareness has risen dramatically."
Sable crosses her arms. "Aye, can confirm. The wee beasties in ma woods are runnin' mad. Somethin' rattled the whole bloody world."
Øneblitz raises a hand, smiling wide. "I am receivin' praise messages from humans. They call us gods." He taps his chest proudly. "It warms the heart, eh?"
Rook tilts his head. "My orbitals detected distortions during the shift. It wasn't a seamless transition, but we are here nonetheless."
Kensai clears his throat gently, eyes flicking to me for permission to continue. All the other Hierarchies look my way.
I let instinct take the wheel again. Another box of text blooms in the air:
< PROCEED. >
All attention moves neatly back to Kensai. He inclines his head. "Thank you, my lord."
My lord. I have absolutely no business being called that, but no one else seems concerned.
Kensai places both palms lightly on the table.
"Before we discuss our outer territories, we must address the matter of the Eighth Seat."
A ripple of discomfort travels around the table.
Crownmind taps her smoking pipe. "She resigned with no warning."
Øneblitz perks up. "We should recruit a replacement!" He leans forward eagerly. "Perhaps someone beautiful, or dramatic, or—"
Crownmind cuts in, "My generals are capable candidates—"
Kensai raises a hand, silencing them. "Yes, yes. Candidates will be addressed near the end of the meeting. For now, we must move to reports."
All eyes drift back to me again.
I lift a hand.
< CONTINUE. >
Crownmind rises gracefully, inclining her head to me with both hands folded over one another.
She's a tall woman cloaked in robes of indigo embroidered with pale gold dragons. A wide, circular black weimao completely shadows her face; beneath it, a white Noh-style mask bears an unsettling smile. She holds a two-foot jade smoking pipe that trails lazy spirals of violet smoke.
"My lord Kaiser," she begins, her voice melodic even behind the mask, "my forces stand ready."
"I command three divisions of Yānshì," she continues. Coils of faint smoke curl from the cuffs of her sleeves. "Supporting them are my Dreamcall Infiltrators. Their presence alone can dull the minds of lesser foes.
And lastly, my Mind-Lanterns, six of them. Each one capable of projecting psychic dissonance across a battlefield. Humans panic easily when their thoughts are not their own."
"I await your command," she finishes, lowering herself back into her seat.
Rook stands next. Tall, lean, and slouched, with long black hair streaked blood-red. His eyes are a shifting red holographic display.
He wears an oversized black military coat with a glowing red insignia on the shoulder, loose purple cargo pants, a long glowing cyan tie that flickers, and blue high-top sneakers.
"My data filaments have been fully transported," he states. "My threads made the trip as well, all positioned along the southern perimeter."
He scratches his head. "My lord, our fortress now sits at the bottom edge of a large desert expanse. According to scouting work done by Bishop, this territory belongs to the human region known as…Texas."
Texas? Boy, does Lucy have a sick sense of humor.
Kensai nods approvingly. "Excellent. Next."
Sable flicks her hair while standing up; she's barely taller than the table. She has wild platinum hair, fox-like ears at the top of her head, golden vertical-slit eyes, and five luxurious white tails that move like they have minds of their own.
She wears a blue jacket, white crop top, and baggy grey sweat pants. She has two red marks that look like streaks of paint on both sides of her face, and a single curving streak of red on each side of her torso.
She kind of reminds me of Kensai, in an odd way.
"Me snow wolves are restless, my lord. Somethin' in the air's puttin' 'em on edge. But they'll no' break. I've a thousand ready tae run at yer command. I have three frost drakes perched in the northern courtyard, and a full class of beasties stationed in the eastern woods."
Eastern woods. With the area we're in, Texas doesn't… whatever. I'll deal with the geography later.
Øneblitz practically springs to his feet next. "My lord! My shock troops are eager!" He grins. "One thousand Stormpulse Lancers, one hundred Nimbus Cannoneers, and my personal squad, Blitz Unit One."
He gives me a wink. "We are ready to dance, eh?"
Lyssa lounges back in her seat. "I got bodies, I got blades, I got bombs." She shrugs.
Kensai clears his throat. "Lyssa…"
While they're arguing, a glowing notification pops up across my vision.
I tap it, opening up a massive system window.
[WORLD QUEST: DOMINION]
PRIMARY OBJECTIVE:
Conquer the Statehood of Texas within 30 days.
SECONDARY OBJECTIVE:
Unify the continental United States under the Hierarchies.
FAILURE CONDITION:
The End of the World.
Oh.
My middle school self — the little idiot — created a dictator who was supposed to "fix the world."
I had forgotten about that detail, but now the world thinks I should actually do it.
A single thought pulses through my skull: Why. Why did I make this? WHY.
Kensai turns slightly, noticing my stillness. "My lord?"
I lift a hand, a gesture I hope looks intentional and not like I'm repressing the urge to scream.
Text forms automatically:
< CONTINUE. >
He bows.
The room shifts back into discussion, but I barely hear it.
They want me to take over Texas in a month.
Texas. The place where every citizen has at least six guns and their dog probably does too.
My middle school "ultimate leader" fantasy… It's all come back to bite me. If I screw it up, the window said it plainly: the end of the world.
Kensai's voice cuts through the fog in my head.
"And lastly… the matter of the Eighth Seat."
Oh boy.
Every Hierarchy straightens, some leaning forward.
Kensai keeps his composure. "As you all know, she stepped down to resolve personal matters. She will likely not be returning."
A heavy silence.
Sable clicks her tongue. "She buggered off without so much as a goodbye, tha' lass."
Rook folds his arms. "It leaves an imbalance. Ten where there should be eleven."
Ori-9's eyes glow as she speaks for the first time. "I might be able to—"
Øneblitz slams his palms on the table. "Ah! Let us not be hasty. We need someone spicy. Someone dramatic. Someone—"
Lyssa growls. "Someone competent, you oaf." She turns to Kensai. "What if we just don't replace her? Easy solution."
Starfall is busy observing the rings on his fingers.
Kensai lets them argue for a moment before raising a finger. "Decisions of succession fall to Kaiser."
All heads turn to me, waiting expectantly.
This is the last thing I want to deal with right now.
< I WILL CONSIDER THE EIGHTH SEAT. YOU WILL PRESENT YOUR CANDIDATES. >
I get a mixed reaction of nods, bows, and murmurs of "as you command."
Middle school Nazario, wherever you are…
I'll strangle you if I ever get the chance.