Ancestral Lineage

The vast cosmos stretched endlessly, a swirling expanse of nebulas pulsing with ethereal light. Stars burned like ancient sentinels, their glow casting shifting hues over the endless void. Amidst this infinite expanse, a lone figure stood—her presence both delicate and commanding.

She was motionless, suspended in the weightless abyss, silver skin reflecting the cosmic glow like polished metal. Her white hair drifted as if caught in an unseen current, strands shifting like wisps of stardust. But it was her eyes that truly defied the void—mechanical blue irises, gleaming with an unnatural brilliance, processing the universe with quiet calculation.

A soft hum vibrated through the emptiness, an unseen force stirring

The void stirred. A ripple in the cosmic fabric, unseen yet undeniable, passed through the nebula-strewn expanse. A voice—disembodied, deep, and measured—broke the silence.

"You have been waiting."

The silver-skinned woman did not flinch. Her mechanical blue eyes flickered, subtle calculations running beneath their luminous surface. The starlight painted shifting patterns across her smooth, metallic complexion, but her expression remained unreadable.

She exhaled softly, though in the weightless void, it carried no sound. Her gaze shifted, fixing on something—or perhaps nothing.

Finally, she responded, her voice cool as the distant light of dying stars.

"And now you've arrived."

"Is that how you speak to your father?" The voice rumbled, deep and resonant, vibrating through the vast cosmic void like the echo of a collapsing star.

The silver-skinned woman did not react at first. Her mechanical blue eyes flickered with unreadable calculations, but her face remained impassive. Then, with a slow blink, she responded, her voice calm, detached.

"I don't know of any father."

A heavy sigh rippled through the abyss, shifting the patterns of distant stars.

"I see… Forgive me, my daughter."

Her gaze sharpened, cold and unwavering.

"I don't know you. You won't even show yourself. How could you possibly be my father?"

The voice was silent for a moment, as though considering the weight of her words. Then, it spoke again, softer this time.

"It seems words alone won't be enough. I will show you, then."

She took a step back, though there was no ground beneath her feet—only the infinite, swirling cosmos. A spark of defiance glowed in her mechanical irises.

"I won't allow you into my mind."

A deep chuckle reverberated through the void, both amused and knowing.

"Haha… You are as willful as ever, my child. But we are connected by more than blood. You are my essence."

She tensed, the metallic sheen of her skin catching the faint glow of distant galaxies.

"I feel nothing of that connection."

The voice exhaled something between a sigh and a chuckle.

"Just like your mother…"

A ripple, faint but undeniable, pulsed through the void. It brushed against her form like an unseen force, seeping into the fabric of her being. Her breath hitched. Her expression, once carefully controlled, shattered in an instant.

Her eyes widened, flashing with a chaotic storm of emotions—shock, fear, anger, something deeper, something unfamiliar. Her hands trembled, fingers curling into fists as if grasping for stability in the endless expanse.

The void, once vast and indifferent, now seemed to close in around her.

"What is this that you're showing me? Why am I…?"

Her voice trembled slightly, mechanical blue eyes flickering as the visions rippled through her mind. Images, emotions—things she had never known, yet somehow felt deeply connected to—swirled within her.

"This is your reality, my daughter," the voice said, heavy with sorrow. "Even with all my vast power, I couldn't protect you."

She clenched her fists, her silver skin reflecting the cosmic light in fractured patterns.

"So… everything has been a lie? My title as Empress… I don't even have a name. I'm just a 2,000-year-old child!"

Her voice cracked with disbelief, frustration, something dangerously close to grief.

"I am truly sorry, daughter."

A heavy silence stretched between them, the stars watching as if they, too, awaited her next words.

"Then what is my name?" she asked, quieter now, almost hesitant.

"That… I cannot tell you. You are no longer bound to me."

Her eyes narrowed. "But you—"

"That is different. You are now tied far more to that brat than to me. Only he can name you."@@novelbin@@

Confusion flickered across her face. "I don't understand."

"You are bound by fate… and Fate." The voice carried an almost knowing amusement. "You are soulmates. I'm sure you already realize that."

She exhaled sharply, looking away into the endless expanse. "But I'm no longer with him. And it's just a name."

"True. You are temporarily apart. Whether you return to him or come home is your choice." A brief pause, then: "As for your name… he is no longer ordinary. His words carry power. Because you are tied by fate and Fate, the name he gives you will hold meaning—great meaning, for both of you."

She closed her eyes, her mind racing with thoughts, calculations, possibilities. Even with centuries of accumulated knowledge, she felt as if she understood nothing.

"Even with everything I know, I can't make sense of most of this."

The voice chuckled, deep and warm despite the void. "Haha! I know. You are still a long way from my level, my daughter."

She scoffed. "Not funny, old man."

"I'm not that old."

A small smirk ghosted across her lips, but it faded as quickly as it came.

"Where's my mother?"

A pause. Then, the voice softened. "Alma… Let's just say, she will be meeting you very soon. Be patient, my daughter."

She nodded, folding her arms. "Mm."

The stars pulsed in the silence, as if holding their breath. Then, the voice spoke again, this time with finality.

"So, what will it be? Will you come home—with me, with your family? Or will you return to your soulmate, that brat of Radar?"

Her lips pressed into a thin line. "What are the consequences?"

The voice rumbled, a distant storm forming in the abyss. "Nothing much. Just that if you choose to return to him, meeting us again will be… difficult. Almost impossible." A pause. "And if you choose to come home, you may never see him again. Every memory you shared will be erased—you will not even recognize each other if you ever cross paths again."

The weight of those words settled over her like the gravity of a dying star.

She closed her eyes. Breathed in. Exhaled.

Then, a small, bittersweet smile touched her lips.

"Mm… A choice of fate, I see." She looked up, the silver glow of her skin reflecting against the cosmic expanse.

"Thank you, Dad."

A final breath.

"I will go back to him."

...

Ethan lay atop a massive branch, his back pressed against the cool bark. His fingers absentmindedly wove through Lisa's hair as she slept, her expression one of pure relief and contentment. The rhythmic rise and fall of her breathing was a stark contrast to the chaos storming inside his mind. Experience more on My Virtual Library Empire

His thoughts churned relentlessly—memories of his journey, the harrowing truths he had uncovered about the system, and now, the unsettling reality of its sudden disappearance. Every piece of information, every battle, every loss—it all weighed on him like an anchor, yet at the same time, an unfamiliar sense of freedom gnawed at the edges of his thoughts.

With a sigh, Ethan finally spoke, his voice soft but firm as he shifted slightly, adjusting Lisa in his lap.

'Lisa... let's head back. I don't want the others to start overthinking things.'

He glanced down at her, his mismatched eyes flickering with amusement at the stark contrast between his small frame and her taller, statuesque form. The sight would have been comical if not for the weight of their circumstances.

Lisa let out a sleepy murmur, her body curling closer. "Just a little longer..." she whispered, her tone dripping with drowsy reluctance.

Ethan exhaled sharply through his nose, shaking his head. 'Sigh... this girl. Lisa, come on, let's go.'

A groan of protest, then a sigh of surrender. "Fine."

With a stretch and a yawn, Lisa finally got up. Ethan tossed her an extra set of clothes to cover her devilishly tempting form, smirking slightly as she rolled her eyes at him. Without hesitation, she scooped him up into a princess carry—her arms effortlessly cradling his compact frame—and took off into the sky.

Ethan merely chuckled as the wind whipped past them. 'You're enjoying this too much.'

Lisa smirked. "Maybe."

The treetops blurred beneath them as they soared back toward the team, the weight of reality settling once more upon their shoulders.

...

Ding!

...

Changes Identified in Host...

Analyzing...

...

Ethan blinked at the familiar sensation washing over him. A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he leaned back, his mind buzzing with realization.

'I didn't know I would miss you this much.' His tone was playful, laced with mockery, but deep down, there was truth to it.

A cold, mechanical voice responded, sharp yet laced with something... different. 'I'm busy working.'

Ethan's brow rose. He could feel it—fluctuations, cracks in the usual monotone. 'You have emotions?' His shock was genuine.

A beat of silence. Then, 'I'm working, idiot.'

Ethan chuckled, amusement dancing in his eyes. 'I love this voice better.'

A frustrated sigh echoed through his mind. 'Fuck you.'

Ethan grinned wider. 'I—'

Initiating Host Blockage Protocol.

His connection was severed instantly.

Laughter bubbled from his throat, unrestrained and filled with delight. 'Hahaha!'