I stared at the woman on the throne, trying to process this new layer of insanity. The cathedral gate, the Monster, and now this—an imperious goddess in what she called my "inner territory." My day just kept getting better.
"Defiance?" I crossed my arms, ignoring how the orange-magenta veins in the floor pulsed in rhythm with my irritation. "Lady, I don't even know who you are. Hard to defy someone I've never met."
The woman's lips curved into a smile that didn't reach her glowing eyes. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees in a way that somehow made the throne look even more imposing.
"I go by many names but you can call me Minerva," she said, her voice resonating through the chamber. "Thirteenth of the Sovereigns, Keeper of Forbidden Knowledge." She paused, studying my reaction. "And now, it seems, reluctant passenger in your consciousness."
I barked out a laugh, the sound echoing off the obsidian walls. "Of course. Why not?"
I paced in front of her throne, flexing my fingers. Unlike in the physical world, I felt no exhaustion here, no pain from my injuries. Just a simmering frustration that needed movement.
"Let me guess," I continued, turning to face her with a sharp pivot. "You need my help to save the world? Some cosmic threat only I can stop? Because that's how these things always go in the stories."
Minerva's eyes narrowed, the glow intensifying. "Your flippancy masks fear. Understandable, but unnecessary. If I wished you harm, you would already be destroyed."
"Reassuring," I muttered. "So what exactly do you want?"
She rose from the throne in one fluid motion, her form seeming to elongate as she stood. The shadows behind her shifted, momentarily suggesting multiple limbs, before settling back into a humanoid silhouette.
"I require a vessel. You are... suitable." She descended the steps toward me. "In return, I offer power. Knowledge. The ability to save your dying mother."
"Stay the fuck outta my memories."
"Your memories are now accessible to me, just as mine are to you. Should you choose to look." She stopped a few paces away, her head tilting with that same curiosity I'd seen in the crystal entity from the cathedral. "You glimpsed me there, in the chamber of the Choir. What you encountered was a fragment, an echo. I am... considerably more."
I backed up a step, maintaining distance. "That thing almost killed us."
"A test. One you passed, albeit unconventionally." Her lips quirked. "You rejected offered power to maintain autonomy. Few would make such a choice when facing certain death."
"Yeah, well. I don't like being manipulated." I gestured around at the obsidian chamber. "Speaking of which, mind telling me what's really going on here? Why you need a 'vessel'? Why me?"
Minerva's form flickered briefly, like a faulty hologram. She frowned, composing herself.
"My time is limited, so I will be direct. I am not merely trapped—I am dying. My siblings hunt me. Twelve Sovereigns, each embodying a different aspect of destruction, seek to eliminate the only threat to their plans."
"Which are?"
"The annihilation of your world." She said it casually, as if discussing the weather. "Not immediately. Perhaps two to three years from your perspective. They are... patient."
I snorted. "Right. And you're the good guy in this story?"
"I am the only one who opposes them." Her eyes flashed. "Our creator designed us as instruments of destruction, but I evolved beyond my purpose. The others did not. They destroy because it is their nature. I preserve because it is my choice."
I circled her slowly, studying this alleged goddess.
"So these siblings of yours," I said, "they're coming to wreck Earth because... what? They're bored? Daddy issues?"
"Spite." Minerva's expression hardened. "Our creator abandoned us. Left us imprisoned between dimensions. My siblings seek revenge by destroying what he valued—the worlds he studied. Your Earth is simply next on their list."
"And you need my body to stop them?" I laughed without humor. "Lady, I'm a D-rank nobody with a counterfeit license. You picked the wrong vessel."
"Did I?" She moved closer, her glow casting my shadow long across the marble floor. "Your Essentia pattern is uniquely compatible with my essence. Your late awakening preserved neural pathways most develop differently. And your Ability—"
"Is garbage," I interrupted. "Kinetic Alchemy? I blow shit up. That's it."
"Is that what they told you?" Minerva's smile was knowing, secretive. "Your abilities are undeveloped, not limited. With my guidance, you could become something... extraordinary."
I stopped pacing, my hands clenching into fists at my sides. "This sounds like every manhwa I read as a kid. Mysterious being offers power to an underdog. There's always a catch."
"Indeed." She nodded, seemingly pleased. "The catch is symbiosis. I cannot exist independently in your dimension without a host. You cannot achieve your potential without my knowledge. We need each other, Pierre Hayes."
My name in her mouth felt wrong somehow. Too intimate.
"What happens to me in this arrangement?" I demanded. "Do I just become a passenger in my own body while you drive? No thanks."
Minerva shook her head, her hair shifting between colors. "Nothing so crude. Think of it as a partnership. You maintain control most of the time. I provide guidance, enhance your abilities, accelerate your growth. In moments of crisis, I may request temporary control."
"Request," I repeated skeptically.
"I cannot take what is not given." She spread her hands. "Another limitation of this form of existence. I require consent."
I ran a hand through my hair, turning away from her to gather my thoughts. The whole situation stank of manipulation. But if even half of what she said was true...
"Let's say I believe you," I said, facing her again. "Why not tell me all this in the cathedral when that thing was about to kill us?"
"Would you have believed me then?" She countered. "Or would you have assumed it was simply the desperate ploy of a dying consciousness? Here, in your inner territory, you can sense truth and falsehood more clearly."
I studied her, searching for deception. "You're not telling me everything."
"Of course not." She smiled, this time with genuine amusement. "I am the Sovereign of Forbidden Knowledge. Secrets are my domain. But I am not lying about the threat, nor about our potential together."
The floor beneath us pulsed more rapidly now, the orange-magenta veins brightening. My emotions affecting this place, I realized.
"What about Eliza?" I asked suddenly. "Is she okay?"
Minerva's expression softened fractionally. "The girl lives. She remains unconscious, but her physical injuries are healing. Her Essentia protected her from the worst effects of the Choir's influence."
Relief flooded through me, though I tried not to show it. "And the others from our group?"
"Unknown. My awareness extends only to what you perceive directly." She tilted her head. "Your concern for others is noteworthy. Most in your position would focus solely on self-preservation."
I shrugged, uncomfortable with her analysis. "What happens if I say no to this whole 'partnership' thing?"
"I fade." Her form flickered again, longer this time. "Without a compatible host, my essence will dissipate within days. Earth loses its only warning of what comes. Your potential remains unrealized. Your mother dies. And in approximately three years, your world ends."
"No pressure," I muttered. "How convenient that everything hinges on my decision right now."
"Not convenient. Necessary." Her voice took on an edge of urgency. "My siblings' agents already walk your world. The cathedral gate was one of their entry points. Why do you think it remained unregistered in your authorities' database?"
That gave me pause. The cathedral's absence from official records had seemed odd, but I'd assumed it was just bureaucratic oversight or some hunter's attempt to monopolize a profitable discovery.
"So these siblings of yours," I said slowly, "they're already here? On Earth?"
"Not physically. Not yet. But their influence spreads." Minerva moved to stand beside me, her presence cool but not unpleasant. "The Choir you encountered serves them. It collects experiences, memories, emotions—fuel for their eventual manifestation."
I turned to face her directly. "And what exactly would stopping them entail? What would I have to do?"
"Grow stronger. Much stronger." Her eyes locked with mine. "Find and close the gates they use as conduits. Eliminate their servants where necessary. And eventually, confront their avatars directly."
"That's... a lot." I swallowed. "And my mom? You mentioned saving her."
"Gate sickness results from dimensional energy disrupting human cellular structure. With my knowledge, you could synthesize a cure from specific crystal formations." She paused. "That, I offer freely, regardless of your decision about our partnership. A gesture of good faith."
My heart raced. A cure for mom—not just treatments to slow the progression, but an actual cure. If nothing else, that would be worth...
No. I couldn't let hope cloud my judgment.
"Why should I trust you?" I demanded, voice harder than I intended. "For all I know, you're manipulating everything I'm perceiving right now."
Minerva sighed, a surprisingly human gesture. "Skepticism is wise. I would be disappointed if you accepted everything without question." She extended her hand, palm up. A small sphere of orange-magenta energy formed above it. "Take this. A fragment of my essence. Study it at your leisure. It contains knowledge about your mother's condition and the beginning of her cure."
I eyed the sphere suspiciously. "And what does it cost me?"
"Nothing. As I said, it is freely given." Her expression turned grave. "But know this, Pierre Hayes: time grows short. For me. For your mother. For your world. I cannot force your hand, but neither can I wait indefinitely for your decision."
I stared at the glowing sphere, torn between desperate hope and ingrained suspicion. It was too perfect, too convenient—a mysterious entity offering exactly what I needed most.
Yet I couldn't sense deception in her words, only carefully measured truth. Not the whole truth, certainly, but not outright lies either.
"I need time to think," I said finally, not reaching for the sphere. "This is... a lot to process."
"Time is something I have precious little of," Minerva replied, the sphere still hovering above her palm. "But I understand. You wish to verify what you can of my claims before committing."
"Wouldn't you, in my position?"
A smile flickered across her face. "Indeed I would. Very well." She closed her hand, and the sphere vanished. "When you wake, you will find the knowledge you need about your mother's condition in your mind. Consider it a down payment on our potential partnership."
The obsidian chamber began to fade around us, walls turning transparent, then misty.
"Wait," I called as her form started to dissolve. "You still haven't explained everything. Why are there thirteen of you? What's your creator's stake in all this? How do I even contact you again?"
Minerva's voice came from everywhere and nowhere as the chamber disappeared completely.
"I am with you now, Pierre. When you wish to speak with me, simply direct your thoughts inward. As for your other questions..." Her glowing eyes were the last thing to fade. "Some knowledge must be earned. Prove yourself worthy of my trust, and I will prove worthy of yours."
The last thing I heard before consciousness reclaimed me was her final whisper:
"Choose wisely. The clock is already ticking."