Royal Reboot: Level up, Your Majesty!

Silence of the Senses

5 fin.

Gluttony struck with abrupt force. Its swollen gut snapped Eydis’s barrier, then swallowed her whole.

“Delicious…” it rumbled, voice thick and guttural. “So… delicious…”

Inside, Eydis kicked at the acidic walls. Her screams fizzled into bubbling gasps while the stomach convulsed, savouring its prize. Yet the expected satisfaction never came.

Gluttony reeled as a sensation overwhelmed it, too intense to be pure pleasure, too sweet to be pain. This wasn’t ordinary food. This was… 

Mesmerising.

The taste felt decadent and familiar in a way that stirred a distant memory. It was sweet like vanilla, though that word barely captured it. It burst across its senses like cotton candy, flooding its vision with swirling, vibrant colours. Its stomach pulsed, clenched, strained to keep the taste from fading.

What is this intoxicating essence?

Glee rose. It had outwitted the witch, silenced the sigil, ended her boasting with a single gulp. This was only the first course. Once the binding spell broke, endless mana-rich feasts would follow.

Power!

Gluttony would climb from lowest Sin to something grand. Envy would seethe. Maybe even Pride… hmm, maybe not.

Pride was a little intense.

But certainly above Sloth, who held no ambition of its own.

Gluttony’s monstrous form trembled at that thought, pleasure battling with a rising, disorienting lightheadedness. It was drowning in a sea of impossible bliss.

Then came a click. Gears turning, grinding, clinking. The… sigil? Impossible! This couldn't be happening.

Red light shattered the dream. Ecstasy vanished like blown candle smoke.

Too fast. Far too fast.

It wanted, no, NEEDED more! 

Not enough. 

This girl wasn't enough!

“Not ENOUGH!!!” Gluttony roared. Its muscled walls strained, threatening to burst under the pressure of vast hunger. The witch’s magic was gone… and left it emptier, hungrier than before.

Why? Why was this happening? Why was it still SO HUNGRY? This should have lasted longer. It shouldn't feel so... lost.

Escape! It had to escape!

“Why can’t I leave?”

Just what kind of monster inflicted torture like this?

Ever since its senses came to be, it could only remember its name. And a vague memory of freedom, of wind whistling through… fur? Hazy memories sharpened: running on all fours across lavender fields, golden eyes, a dazzling smile.

It had never been free.  

It had a master.  

It had belonged to the prey it just devoured.

Pain ripped through its gut. The stomach now lay sliced open. When had that wound appeared? 

The truth shattered not only Gluttony’s flesh, but the very idea of it. Its form burst apart into a wisp of violet mist.

A melodic voice drifted through the haze. “There you are. Feeling overstimulated?”

A slim figure in green stepped closer, hands tucked behind her back.

“Did you plan all this?” Gluttony rasped.

“Gluttony, Gluttony,” she purred, “nobody taught you not to snack without permission? Especially when the snack bites back.”

For once, hunger wasn’t the strongest thing Gluttony felt. It was fear.

“I-I didn’t know,” it breathed. “She warned me. Said there were traps hidden in the flesh. But the hunger… it screamed too loud.”

“She?” Her head tilted. “Who is this she?”

When the question finally registered, Gluttony realised how familiar her voice was, how familiar she looked.

The prey it believed devoured, the master it had just remembered, the Queen of Shadows.

H-Her Majesty?

“It was you…” Gluttony’s voice shrank to a pathetic whimper. “…You told me!”

Eydis pushed off the freezer wall gracefully. Only the thin red cut across her palm proved she had fought at all.

"Every lure needs a tempting bait, you knew that," she said, voice almost kind. Her bloody fingers described a circle in the rolling smoke. "But a fool is a fool all the same. A slave to its own hunger."

The violet cloud trembled. That flavour again: ambrosia and ashes. It seized its senses, then vanished, leaving a frostbitten ache. Then… it remembered.

Her mana, entangled with her blood, was a dangerous temptation. When she slashed through its membrane, it had been a deliberate offering, her power and lifeblood.

Everything else, the shattered barrier, the swallow, had been illusions painted across its mind.”

Eydis breathed a quiet spell. Smoke wrapped her hand, hardened, towered. Three obsidian heads scraped the ceiling, each eye gleaming furnace-bright.

“Cerberus,” she reminded. “Remember that’s your name? You’ve been forgetting your manners.”

The beast whimpered, shrinking until its shoulders met her waist, all three muzzles nuzzling her palm.

“Forgive me, My Queen. To consume your essence without permission… how blasphemous of me.”

Ice flickered behind her smile. You see, the Queen of Shadows didn't just cultivate any mana. Her darkness wasn't just any darkness. It tempted, it maddened, it hooked. Fleeting. So very fleeting.

And a single drop of her blood pulled the Sin to the edge of bliss, then pushed them into longing.

Binding these primal Sins wasn’t as simple as drawing chalk circles on the floor; any fool could try that, until the Sin devoured them whole. Real control was a melody of almost, repeated forever.

Envy, the serpent of jealousy, eternally writhed in unquenchable desire. Just a glance from her, a crumb of validation, was enough to keep it chained and obedient.

Cerberus was worse. A taste of her presence hit like a drug, leaving it shaking, drooling, needing more. This wasn’t control. It was need, raw and ugly, a leash made from the bones of its own craving.

But such was the price of wielding the power of primal evils. Eydis’s lips curled into a humourless smile. How naïve to think that simple spells, binding incantations, or lucky artifacts were the only barriers between the world and these primal evils.

Freedom? Maybe none of them had it. Not the Sins. Not their Queen. All of them locked in cages they built themselves, shackled by wants they couldn’t outrun. 

She let out a low, amused hum. “So eager to devour me, were you, Cerberus?”

A ripple of warning ghosted across her thoughts. Envy whispered: Astra approaches.

She smiled faintly. “…But this time, the pleasure is mine. But a three-headed hound is a bit loud, isn’t it? Let us soften the bark.”

The creature’s three heads turned toward her, blinking. This wasn’t what it had expected.

“How about a Doberman?” Eydis said, her smile widening. 

Power flickered. The hulking form blurred. A sleek black Doberman sat in its place, amber eyes wide.

Then it leaped toward her. In a flash, its jaws snapped shut. The world around Eydis was consumed by darkness.

‘As you command, Your Majesty!’

The Doberman’s brown eyes flickered gold for an instant before settling back into a warm amber hue. Its stance shifted, adopting an elegant, almost regal posture. As the door to the dining hall groaned open, it slipped seamlessly into…

the shadows.

Warrungal Ranges overlooked the whole glittering bowl of Alchymia. Mansions climbed the slopes, all angled to overlook the city. The location was close enough to admire the glittering lights, and far enough to escape its noise. 

Down there, in the true heart of the city, the workers lived. Crowded in narrow towers, sharing walls, crammed into spaces where kitchens were rare luxuries.

But here, this was privilege. It was power.

Moonlight cut through the wrought-iron window, striping the king-size bed, striping Tiffany Blackwood’s unmoving form. Sir Thomas Blackwood lowered himself to a chair at her side. His hand trembled as it covered hers.

He tried to speak but choked on the breath. 

Then, flashes. They blinded him. Reporters, lenses, the soft click-click-click of opportunism.

Thomas blinked rapidly, trying, and failing, to hold back tears.

“Tiffany, sweetheart… why?"

She didn’t move, nor did she speak. The press inched closer, trying to capture better shots of her face.

Then they asked.

“Sir, any comment on Senator Blackwood’s proposed communal reform act?”

“Any comments on the prayer vigil for Tiffany?”

“Is the duel footage genuine or AI?”

“Does Tiffany have ties to the Eye?”

“My daughter wouldn’t touch such evil!” Thomas ripped a microphone from its owner, barked at security, and the crowd vanished like startled starlings.

The silence barely had time to settle before the door creaked open again.

Noah stepped into the room, slow-clapping. “A beautiful act, really. Almost had me fooled. One might think you actually care.”

Thomas kept his seat. “Why are you here?”

Noah rested a hand on his shoulder, his touch unnervingly cold. "Just curious, Tommy. You’ve taken quite the interest in that Senate seat lately. But I’ll give you this—‘devoted father at his daughter’s bedside’ is a strong image. Very…”

He shrugged, and added, “…strategic.”

“Leave,” Thomas said through his teeth. “I am saving my child. Your niece.”

Noah chuckled. “Of course. Keep the act going. But we both know she takes after you, always vying for validation.” He leaned in, emerald eyes cruel. “Never enough.”

Before Thomas could react, Noah stepped back, already heading for the door.

“Good night, brother.”

As his footsteps faded down the hall, the room seemed to darken. Not only because the butler had turned off the lights, though he had, but because another presence was settling in.

A violet tendril curled around Thomas’s fingertips. He let out a shaky sigh, not from grief. That had been a convincing performance. It was hate.

‘Can I kill him?’

The answer came in sensation. A weight descended, pressing down on him until his knees gave way. A whisper from nowhere and everywhere, echoing through his bones.

"No,” it rumbled. “Not yet. However…”

The pressure lifted, replaced by curiosity. 

“…I am a little intrigued by that boy. The one who dared to…”

The voice trailed off.  

“…tamper with my will.”

Thomas swallowed hard. "You mean… the one at St. Kevin's?"

“Yes,” the voice purred. “The one with the power in his golden eyes… How nostalgic. How… delicious. And I want him.”