Deep within the chaotic cosmos, tucked away in a separate plane of existence, lies a world saturated with primal energies—a raw power capable of driving any sentient race to madness and greed. Ancient behemoths claimed this realm, cultivating their strength in a state of isolation until the emergence of a new species: the Witches.
The origins of the Witches remained a mystery; they simply appeared, a sudden anomaly in the ancient ecosystem. A brutal era of dominance began. Though the Witches lacked the physical savagery of the monsters, they possessed a terrifying versatility in ritualistic magic. They learned to harvest the strength of their enemies, weaving the souls of monsters into their own through forced bonds. They called these tethered beasts ''pets,'' though they were more akin to living batteries for their magic.
This parasitic autonomy endured for eons until the call of the Origin reached them. A select few were chosen as Lord candidates, granting them power that reshaped their society. A rigid hierarchy formed around the soul-bond; a witch was permitted only one guardian Pet, as the ritual fused their lifespans and bloodlines. Consequently, those who bonded with the most legendary beasts became the undisputed nobility.
In the House of Marronate, the Matriarch bore twins under the light of a silver moon. While the clan celebrated, the Matriarch looked upon her children with heavy heart. One twin was born bathed in a radiant, sapphire aura; the other was draped in a deathly, suffocating gloom. The clan saw it clearly: a blessing and a curse.
Savanna Marronate thrived, her vibrant personality and innate talent for the family's arts quickly eclipsing her sister. In time, the clan began to act as if only one princess existed. While the Matriarch prayed the girls would find a healthy rivalry, Selene was relegated to the status of ''clan trash.''
The Marronate lineage relied on the bloodline of the Twin-tailed Fox, an essence that allowed them to weave charms and turn others into mindless puppets. Yet, Selene was a void. Her gloomy aura was so potent that not even the lowliest monsters would approach her, treating her presence like a spreading plague.
Twenty years passed. Today, the palace was a riot of color and celebration. Savanna had been officially selected as a Lord candidate for the Origin, an opportunity that promised even greater guardians than those found on their home plane.
The Marronate witches gathered in the garden, the air thick with the scent of tea and flattery. Savanna sat at the center of the circle, her golden curls and sapphire eyes holding everyone in a soft, effortless trance.
''Princess, what manner of beast do you intend to Bond with?'' a young witch asked, her voice dripping with adoration.
Savanna merely offered a cryptic smile.
''With her talent, it must be an Epic grade—or perhaps she will repeat history and claim a Legend for our house!'' another chirped.
Savanna paused, her teacup halfway to her lips. She glanced up at a high balcony where a girl stood—her mirror image in feature, but with hair and eyes the color of bruised violets. Selene watched them with a look of profound boredom. Savanna waved, projecting the image of a doting sister.
The surrounding witches followed her gaze, their faces twisting into masks of disdain. ''Why must that stain be part of this royal house?'' one grumbled. Another added, ''If not for the Matriarch's protection, she would have been sold to the border clans as a slave years ago. She is a blight on our name.''
From the window, Selene clutched a plush purple cat—the only remnant of her mother's affection—and drew the heavy curtains shut. The room fell into shadow, save for a single, flickering lamp. She sat on her bed and opened a primer on common emotions. She studied the illustrations for Anger, Joy, and Sadness. Looking into a hand mirror, Selene manually adjusted the corners of her mouth, attempting to replicate the curve of the ''Happy'' diagram. 'Mother says if I smile, she will be happy. Is this the correct shape?'
A soft knock preceded the entrance of the Matriarch, Marella Marronate. She sat on the edge of the bed, her hand gentle as she brushed a stray purple lock from Selene's eyes. ''What are you studying so intently, little one?''
Selene pointed to the book. Marella sighed at her daughter's blank expression. ''Happiness... do you understand what that feels like?''
''What is happiness, Mother?'' Selene's voice was flat, devoid of any inflection.
Marella's heart ached. ''It is a spark of excitement. It is the feeling you get from a favorite sweet, a rare book, or a beautiful gown. It is what makes life feel worth living.''
Selene retreated into her thoughts. She had always been indifferent to the world; food was fuel, sleep was a passage of time, and clothes were a necessity. Nothing sparked. But then, a specific memory surfaced. She remembered the faces of the elders who sneered at her mother and plotted to strip Selene of her birthright. Her pulse quickened. A dark warmth stirred in her chest.
''When I imagine the sound the elders would make if I cut their throats... when I think of removing the people who cause you such grief, Mother...'' Selene looked up, her violet eyes finally showing a flicker of life. ''My heart beats faster. Is that the happiness you mean?''
Marella's expression clouded with trouble, but she quickly hid it behind a soft smile. ''You cannot think of killing our own kin, little one,'' she said gently. Selene did not quite understand why her mother's voice trembled; to her, removing an obstacle was as logical as closing a curtain to block the sun. Still, seeing the worry in Marella's eyes, she gave her word. ''I promise, Mother.''
Marella reached out, her fingers grazing the Lord's mark on Selene's skin. Unlike Savanna's sapphire sign that glowed with a boastful light, Selene's mark was a deep, muted violet that seemed to absorb the light around it. She, too, had been chosen by the system.
''I hope Origin will help you find a place in this world, Selene,'' Marella whispered, her voice filled with a mother's desperate hope. ''A place where you can be more than what this clan sees.''
Selene looked down at the sigil on her wrist. It didn't feel like a blessing or a curse; it just felt like a cold, empty door. 'Origin... I wonder if the people there are as loud as Savanna,' she wondered, her face remaining as stoic as stone.
**
The vision shifted violently as Leo's consciousness drifted deeper into the void. The image of Marella's warm, desperate smile shattered like brittle glass, the shards dissolving into a whirlwind of time and shadow.
Leo watched, a silent observer in the stream of another's fate, as the years accelerated. The small, gloomy girl in the dark bedroom grew, her violet eyes hardening into cold jewels of indifference. He saw her arrival in the Origin —not with the fanfare her sister received, but in a desolate, fog-choked valley where even the trees seemed to lean away from her.
Then, the scene crystallized at a new milestone.