Sh2
"dawn precisely," Morgan finished, her dark dress rippling with arcane energies. "Something about the 'optimal convergence of shadow currents.'"
"He's probably still perfecting his entrance," BB giggled, twirling a strand of violet hair around her finger. "Ten coins says he rappels down from somewhere high with his cape billowing dramatically."
"I will not participate in such frivolous wagering," Artoria stated solemnly.
"Twenty coins says he walks through a shadow portal," Rimuru countered with a mischievous smile.
Artoria's lips twitched slightly. "...Thirty on him descending the main staircase with manufactured fog effects."
The others stared at her in surprise.
"What?" Artoria shrugged. "I've spent enough time with him to recognize his patterns."
Before the betting could continue, the very air before them rippled and tore. A vertical slash of pure darkness appeared, and through it stepped Cid, his new battle attire gleaming with silver accents against midnight black fabric.
"My divine court assembles," he intoned, his voice pitched lower than usual. "The convergence of shadow currents has begun."
Rimuru held out her hand with a triumphant smile. Artoria and BB grudgingly materialized glowing coins in her palm.
"How did he...?" Durga whispered, genuinely surprised.
"He's actually manipulating dimensional space now," Vados murmured back. "Without any training. Fascinating."
Cid, oblivious to their exchange, surveyed his gathered court with obvious satisfaction. "Our mission awaits. The Eye of Eternal Dusk calls to those who walk the shadow path."
"And how exactly are we traveling to this temple?" Scathach inquired, her spear resting casually across her shoulders.
"Through the Veil of Realms, naturally," Cid replied, gesturing to the portal he'd just emerged from. To his credit, he had no idea how he'd created it—the ability had simply manifested when he'd concentrated on making a suitably dramatic entrance.
"You created a stable interdimensional doorway," Morgan observed with reluctant respect. "Impressive... for a mortal."
"The shadow sovereign transcends ordinary limitations," Cid declared, though internally he was equally surprised by his new "special effect."
Whatever elaborate technology or magic was generating this immersive experience, it was becoming increasingly sophisticated. Perfect for maintaining his roleplaying immersion.
"Shall we proceed?" Marie suggested gently, gesturing toward the portal.
"The divine court shall follow their sovereign," Cid agreed with a dramatic sweep of his arm.
One by one, they stepped through the tear in reality. The divine women moved with grace and confidence, accustomed to traversing dimensions. Cid followed, attempting to match their supernatural poise while secretly thrilled by the realistic sensation of dimensional transition.
They emerged onto a barren plateau of crimson sand and dark, twisted rock formations. The sky above burned a deep violet, with two pale suns hanging motionless at opposing horizons. In the distance, half-buried in the blood-colored dunes, stood a massive temple complex of black stone, its architecture both alien and ominous.
"The Crimson Wastes," Cid announced, secretly amazed that the environment matched his imagination so perfectly. "And there—the Temple of Forgotten Whispers."
Tiamat inhaled deeply, her primordial senses analyzing their surroundings. "This realm feels... young. Recently formed."
"Approximately twelve hours old," Vados confirmed quietly, so only the divine women could hear. "Created from his description last night."
"You mean you created it," Scathach corrected.
"I merely provided dimensional anchoring," Vados explained. "The binding did the rest, manifesting his imagination into reality."
"So everything he described—" Durga began.
"Will be exactly as he portrayed it," Vados finished. "Including the dangers."
Shiki frowned. "We're facing threats created from his imagination that have become real through divine power. That's... problematic."
"Isn't anyone else disturbed by how quickly this is escalating?" Arcueid demanded in a harsh whisper. "Yesterday he was just a delusional human. Today he's creating dimensions and shadow portals."
"All the more reason to secure this truth-revealing artifact," Marie reminded them. "If it manifests as he believes it will, it could help him understand what's happening."
Their whispered conference was interrupted by Cid's theatrical voice. "The approach to the temple will be perilous. The ancient guardians do not welcome visitors—even those of divine origin."
"What sort of guardians should we expect?" Artoria inquired, playing along while gathering tactical information.
Cid gestured toward the temple with a sweeping motion. "Stone sentinels that hunger for divine essence. Reality distortions in the Corridor of Distorted Truths. And the final guardian—the Keeper of Dusk—a being of pure conceptual opposition to light and revelation."
"Sounds delightful," Morgan remarked dryly.
"A suitable challenge for a divine court," Cid nodded, missing her sarcasm entirely. "We shall approach in formation. Durga, Artoria, and Scathach at the vanguard. Rimuru, BB, and myself in the center. The rest form the rear guard."
To his delight and surprise, they actually arranged themselves according to his direction—though not because they felt compelled to obey. Rather, they were curious to see how his manufactured reality would respond to his tactical decisions.
As they began their approach across the crimson sands, Mitra moved closer to Cid's side. She had been unusually quiet since the previous day.
"Eminence," she said softly, "may I ask you something?"
"The shadow sovereign welcomes inquiries from his court," Cid replied magnanimously.
"Why did you choose us?" Mitra asked, her divine eyes searching his face. "Out of all possible divine beings across all realms, why these twelve?"
The question caught Cid off-guard. It wasn't part of the scenario he'd been imagining. In his fantasy, the twelve goddesses had been chosen by cosmic fate or ancient prophecy—not by his personal selection.
For a moment, he hesitated, unsure how to respond while maintaining his character.
"The alignment of shadow currents guided the selection," he finally answered, improvising. "Each of you possesses qualities essential to the greater design."
"And what is this greater design?" Mitra pressed gently.
Again, Cid found himself momentarily at a loss. He'd been so focused on the aesthetic and dramatics of being the "Eminence in Shadow" that he hadn't really developed an end goal beyond vague notions of "fighting evil" and "maintaining cosmic balance."
"That," he said with deliberate mystery, "shall be revealed when the time is right. Even I glimpse only fragments of the ultimate purpose."
Mitra studied him thoughtfully. "You truly believe that, don't you? That there is some greater meaning to all this."
"Of course," Cid replied, slightly confused by her tone. Wasn't she supposed to be playing along with the scenario?
"And if there isn't?" Mitra asked softly. "If this is all just... cosmic chance?"
Before Cid could formulate a suitably dramatic response, a rumbling sound drew their attention forward. The crimson sands before the temple were shifting, and from beneath them rose massive figures of black stone—humanoid but with too many limbs and featureless faces that nonetheless conveyed ancient malevolence.
"The stone sentinels awaken!" Cid declared, drawing a sword of gleaming silver that he'd had custom-made for his shadow sovereign persona. "Divine court—to battle!"
The stone sentinels—now real despite having existed only in Cid's imagination the day before—lumbered toward them with surprising speed for creatures of solid rock. Their multiple arms ended in wicked blades of obsidian, and their featureless faces began to split open to reveal maws filled with crystalline teeth.
"Well," BB remarked cheerfully, "he certainly has an active imagination."
"Less commentary, more fighting," Durga growled, her multiple arms already manifesting an array of divine weapons.
What followed was a battle of epic proportions—though not in the way Cid had anticipated.
He had expected his "divine court" to display impressive but ultimately theatrical abilities against opponents that would provide a suitable challenge but eventually fall. What he witnessed instead left him momentarily speechless.
Durga launched herself at the largest sentinel, her divine weapons tearing through stone as if it were paper. Where her blades struck, reality itself seemed to shred, the concept of "destruction" overwhelming the concept of "existence."
Artoria drew her golden sword, which blazed with holy light so intense that Cid had to shield his eyes. With a single sweep, she cleaved three sentinels in half, the cut edges glowing with purifying energy that spread through their stone bodies like golden veins.
Scathach moved like living shadow, her crimson spear piercing what should have been impenetrable stone with casual ease. Where the spear struck, the sentinels simply ceased to exist, banished to some other dimension or realm.
The battle was over in seconds, the stone sentinels reduced to rubble or simply erased from existence.
Cid stood frozen, his sword still raised dramatically but completely unused.
"That was..." he began, struggling to process what he'd just witnessed.
"Merely the first obstacle," Artoria supplied smoothly, returning her sword to its scabbard. "As you predicted, Eminence."
"Yes," Cid recovered quickly. "Merely the outer guardians. The challenges grow more significant as we progress."
"Then let us proceed," Scathach suggested, her spear dissolving into red mist before reforming on her back. "The day wanes, even in this artificial realm."
Cid nodded, striding forward with renewed confidence. Inside, however, his mind was racing. The "special effects" in this experience were beyond anything he could have imagined. The battle had looked and felt completely real—the ground shaking beneath the sentinels' feet, the sound of stone cracking under divine weapons, the pressure wave from Artoria's sword strike.
Whatever technology or magic was generating this simulation, it was orders of magnitude more sophisticated than he'd initially believed.
As they approached the temple entrance—a massive doorway carved with symbols that constantly shifted and changed—BB fell into step beside Cid.
"Impressed by your divine court's performance?" she asked with a knowing smile.
"The shadow sovereign expected nothing less," Cid replied, maintaining his character.
"Of course not," BB agreed with mock seriousness. "But I'm curious—in your vast shadow wisdom, what do you make of our... situation?"
"Situation?" Cid repeated, unsure what she meant.
"Twelve divine beings bound to serve a shadow sovereign," BB clarified, watching his face carefully. "It's rather unusual, wouldn't you say? Almost as if something unexpected happened when you shattered that crystal."
Cid hesitated. Was this a test? A narrative prompt designed to push the scenario forward?
"The cosmic convergence proceeded exactly as the ancient texts foretold," he replied, falling back on his standard explanation. "The binding was inevitable."
"Inevitable," BB echoed, something calculating in her eyes. "And permanent?"
Again, Cid found himself unsure how to respond. In his fantasy, of course the arrangement would be permanent—what would be the point otherwise? But something in BB's tone suggested a deeper question.
"The covenant transcends ordinary concepts of duration," he answered carefully. "It exists beyond time as mortals understand it."
BB's smile widened slightly. "How convenient."
Before the conversation could continue, they reached the temple entrance. The shifting symbols carved into the massive doorway began to glow with an eerie light, and whispers emanated from the stone itself—thousands of overlapping voices speaking in languages both known and forgotten.
"The Threshold of Remembrance," Cid announced, relieved to return to familiar narrative ground. "Beyond lies the Corridor of Distorted Truths."
"And how do we pass this threshold?" Morgan inquired, examining the glowing symbols with professional interest.
Cid adopted his most mysterious expression. "We must offer a truth to gain passage. A personal truth, freely given."
"A security system based on honesty," Vados observed. "Elegant in its simplicity."
"I shall demonstrate," Cid declared, stepping forward with dramatic purpose. He placed his hand on the central symbol—one that resembled an eye within a spiral. "I, the Eminence in Shadow, offer this truth: My greatest fear is not darkness, but insignificance."
The symbol beneath his hand flared brightly, and the whispers momentarily synchronized into a single voice that echoed: "TRUTH ACCEPTED."
The massive doors began to grind open, revealing a corridor beyond that seemed to bend and twist in ways that hurt the eyes to observe.
Cid turned to his divine court with a satisfied expression. "Each must offer a truth to pass."
The divine women exchanged glances, a silent communication passing between them. This was an unexpected complication—and potentially, an opportunity.
"I shall go next," Marie volunteered, stepping forward to place her hand on the symbol. "My truth: Despite being the deity of mercy, there are beings I cannot forgive."
"TRUTH ACCEPTED," the whispers confirmed.
One by one, the divine women approached the threshold and offered their truths:
Durga: "I find beauty in destruction but no peace in victory."
Arcueid: "I envy mortals their freedom to evolve and change."
Morgan: "My greatest creations came from my deepest despair."
Rimuru: "I fear becoming so powerful that I lose connection to those I protect."
Artoria: "My perfect rule left me more isolated than my subjects."
Shiki: "I see death in all things, yet I yearn for life."
Tiamat: "Creation exhausts me, yet I cannot stop creating."
BB: "My chaos masks my desire for order."
Vados: "Eternity is lonelier than mortals can comprehend."
Each truth was accepted, the symbols flaring with recognition of genuine confession.
Finally, only Mitra remained. She approached the symbol hesitantly, her expression troubled.
"My truth," she said softly, her voice barely audible, "is that I am beginning to welcome this binding that should repulse me."
The symbol blazed brighter than for any previous confession, and the whispers seemed almost excited as they confirmed: "TRUTH ACCEPTED AND NOTED."
The doors opened fully, revealing the Corridor of Distorted Truths in all its reality-bending glory. Walls became floors became ceilings, gravity shifted unpredictably, and light bent around corners that couldn't possibly exist.
But Cid barely noticed. He was staring at Mitra, her confession echoing in his mind. For the first time since this elaborate fantasy began, he wondered if something more was happening—something beyond his understanding.
"Shall we proceed, Eminence?" Mitra asked quietly, not meeting his eyes.
"Yes," Cid replied, his theatrical voice momentarily forgotten. "Yes, let's proceed."
As they entered the corridor, reality began to shift and distort around them. The divine women navigated the changes with varying degrees of ease—Vados and BB seemed almost amused by the fluctuations, while Artoria and Durga moved with grim determination.
Cid, however, found himself struggling. His perception couldn't process the constant shifts, and several times he nearly fell as gravity suddenly reversed or sideways.
"Take my hand," Mitra offered, extending her palm toward him. "I can guide you through this."
Cid hesitated—not because he doubted her, but because accepting help didn't fit his shadow sovereign persona. Yet the alternative was embarrassing himself by stumbling through the corridor while his divine court watched.
"A wise sovereign knows when to accept assistance," he declared, taking her hand.
The moment their fingers touched, a jolt of energy passed between them. Mitra's eyes widened in surprise, and Cid felt a strange warmth spread up his arm and throughout his body.
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION] Affection Trigger: PHYSICAL CONTACT Power Granted: DIMENSIONAL REGENERATION AND RESISTANCE Effect: SPATIAL DISTORTIONS NO LONGER AFFECT SUBJECT
Suddenly, the corridor's distortions seemed to stabilize around Cid. He could still see them affecting the environment, but his perception adjusted automatically, allowing him to navigate with confidence.
"The sovereign adapts quickly," Mitra observed, a small smile playing at her lips.
"The shadows guide my steps," Cid replied, though internally he was marveling at how the simulation had adjusted to make the experience more manageable for him.
They continued through the corridor, still hand in hand. Behind them, the other divine women exchanged meaningful glances.
"Did you see that?" Arcueid whispered to Scathach. "The binding just granted him dimensional stability."
"Because Mitra touched him," Scathach confirmed. "The affection triggers are becoming more sensitive."
"This is progressing faster than anticipated," Vados murmured. "We may need to accelerate our plans."
At the end of the impossible corridor, they reached another set of doors—these made of what appeared to be solid darkness rather than stone.
"The Inner Sanctum," Cid announced, reluctantly releasing Mitra's hand. "Beyond lies the Keeper of Dusk and the Eye we seek."
"And how do we pass these doors?" Artoria asked.
Cid struck a dramatic pose, his confidence fully restored now that he could navigate the spatial distortions. "These doors respond only to shadow essence. Stand back."
He approached the doors and placed both hands against the surface of living darkness. To his surprise and secret delight, the darkness seemed to respond to his touch, rippling like liquid under his palms.
"Open to your master," he commanded in his deepest voice. "The Eminence in Shadow claims what is rightfully his."
The darkness parted like a curtain, revealing a vast circular chamber beyond. At its center floated a pedestal of obsidian, and upon it rested a crystalline orb that pulsed with inner purple light—remarkably similar to the crystal he had shattered in the ruins.
But between them and the pedestal stood a figure of pure darkness—humanoid but towering, its form constantly shifting and flowing like living shadow. Where a face should have been, there was only a void that somehow conveyed ancient malevolence.
"The Keeper of Dusk," Cid declared, drawing his silver sword once more. "The final guardian."
The Keeper raised a hand, and the shadows throughout the chamber seemed to respond to its gesture, converging and intensifying.
"INTRUDERS," it spoke, its voice like the void between stars. "THE EYE IS NOT FOR MORTALS OR GODS. DEPART OR BE UNMADE."
"My divine court," Cid began, raising his sword dramatically, "let us—"
Before he could finish, the Keeper moved with impossible speed, appearing directly before him. A hand of pure darkness closed around his throat, lifting him off the ground with effortless strength.
"YOU," the Keeper intoned, "ARE NEITHER SHADOW NOR SOVEREIGN. YOU ARE DELUSION GIVEN FORM. UNWORTHY."
Cid struggled, his sword falling from his grasp as he clawed at the hand that held him. This wasn't part of his fantasy. The guardian was supposed to be formidable but ultimately defeatable—not immediately overwhelming.
"Release him!" Durga demanded, her divine weapons materializing around her.
"We claim him as ours," Arcueid added, her eyes blazing crimson. "Whatever he is, he belongs to us now."
The Keeper turned its void-face toward the divine women. "HE IS UNWORTHY OF YOUR BINDING. I SHALL UNMAKE HIM AND FREE YOU."
"That choice is not yours to make," Tiamat stated, her primordial power beginning to manifest visibly around her.
As the divine court prepared to battle the Keeper, Cid felt consciousness slipping away. The hand around his throat was not merely physical—it seemed to be unraveling his very existence, pulling apart the threads of his being.
In that moment of desperation, something awakened within him. The accumulated power granted by the binding, dormant until now, surged to the surface.
His eyes snapped open, blazing with purple light. His body dissolved into living shadow, flowing through the Keeper's grasp like smoke. When he reformed a few feet away, his appearance had subtly changed—his ordinary features overlaid with an aura of shadow that shifted and moved with a life of its own.
"I am the Eminence in Shadow," he declared, his voice resonating with newfound power. "And you are merely a construct of my imagination."
The Keeper recoiled, its void-face radiating confusion. "IMPOSSIBLE. YOU ARE MORTAL."
"Not anymore," Mitra whispered, watching with wide eyes as Cid's shadow stretched across the floor, reaching for the Keeper like grasping hands.
The divine women stood frozen, witnessing the transformation with varying degrees of alarm and fascination.
"He's manifesting actual shadow authority," Morgan observed, her arcane senses analyzing the power display. "Converting his imagination into metaphysical law."
"Is this our doing?" Marie asked quietly.
"Yes and no," Vados replied. "The binding provided the framework, but the power is uniquely his. A perfect reflection of how he sees himself."
The battle that followed was unlike anything Cid had ever experienced—even in his most elaborate chuunibyou fantasies. His shadow powers responded instinctively to his thoughts, stretching and striking with devastating effect. The Keeper fought back with primordial darkness, but where its shadows met Cid's, his proved stronger—more defined, more purposeful.
"THIS CANNOT BE," the Keeper protested as its form began to unravel. "YOU ARE NOT WORTHY."
"Worthiness is determined by the shadows," Cid replied, the words coming to him without conscious thought. "And the shadows have chosen me."
With a final surge of shadow-power, Cid enveloped the Keeper completely. There was a moment of resistance, then acceptance, as the guardian's essence was absorbed into Cid's expanding shadow.
When it was over, Cid stood alone before the pedestal, his appearance slowly returning to normal—though his eyes retained a faint purple glow.
"The path is clear," he announced, turning to his divine court. "The Eye of Eternal Dusk awaits its rightful owner."
The divine women exchanged alarmed glances.
"Did he just absorb a conceptual guardian?" Arcueid whispered.
"One created from his own imagination, given form by the binding," Vados confirmed. "He's integrating his fantasies into his actual being."
"This is spiraling out of control," Durga growled. "We need to act."
"Not yet," Marie cautioned. "Let's see what the Eye reveals first."
Cid approached the pedestal, his hand reaching for the crystalline orb that pulsed with familiar purple light. As his fingers closed around it, the light intensified, filling the chamber with its radiance.
"The Eye of Eternal Dusk," he declared, raising it overhead. "Revealer of hidden truths, piercer of cosmic veils."
The orb pulsed once, twice, then projected a series of images into the air above them—images that made Cid freeze in confusion and growing concern.
He saw himself in the ancient ruins, breaking the original crystal.
He saw the system notification that had been visible only to the divine women:
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION] Supreme Affection Overdrive System Engaged Soul Binding: PERMANENT Protocol: IRREVERSIBLE Condition: EMOTIONAL CONNECTION REQUIRED FOR POWER TRANSFER
He saw the twelve women discussing their predicament while he slept, trying to understand how to break the binding.
He saw his own shadow powers manifesting not through technology or simulation, but through actual metaphysical transformation.
As the revelations continued, Cid's expression shifted from confusion to disbelief to dawning horror.
"This is... real?" he whispered, the orb dimming in his grasp as his concentration wavered. "All of it? The binding, the powers, the... twelve goddesses?"
"Yes," Mitra answered simply, stepping forward. "We are bound to you through the crystal you shattered. None of us can leave your presence or disobey your direct commands."
"But I never meant to—" Cid began, his shadow sovereign persona forgotten in the face of this revelation. "I was just roleplaying. I didn't actually want to enslave anyone."
"We know," Marie said gently. "The binding formed based on your subconscious desires, not your conscious intent."
"My subconscious desires?" Cid repeated, looking horrified. "I wanted to enslave goddesses deep down?"
"Not enslavement," Vados corrected. "Connection. Significance. Recognition of your inner self-image as something greater than ordinary."
Cid stared at the orb in his hands, then at the twelve divine women surrounding him. The full implications were beginning to sink in.
"I've been gaining actual powers," he realized. "The shadow portal, the resistance to dimensional distortion, the battle with the Keeper..."
"All real," Scathach confirmed. "The binding grants you abilities based on emotional connections with us. Every interaction strengthens both the binding and your powers."
"But that's..." Cid struggled to find words. "That's not what I wanted. I was just playing a character. The Eminence in Shadow was just make-believe."
"And yet," BB pointed out with a sardonic smile, "here we are—twelve divine beings bound to a mortal who's rapidly becoming something else entirely. Quite the cosmic joke, wouldn't you say?"
Cid lowered the orb, his shoulders slumping as the weight of responsibility crashed down upon him.
"I need to fix this," he said softly. "How do I break the binding and set you free?"
The divine women exchanged glances.
"That," Morgan replied, "is precisely what we've been trying to discover."
"And have you?" Cid asked hopefully.
"No," Tiamat answered, her primordial voice gentle but firm. "The binding appears to be fundamentally irreversible. As your Eye has shown you, it is PERMANENT and IRREVERSIBLE."
Cid closed his eyes, processing this information. When he opened them again, determination had replaced the horror.
"Then we'll find a way," he declared. "If I created this mess, I can uncreate it. No one should be bound against their will—especially not beings like you."
For the first time since their binding, the divine women looked at Cid with something approaching respect.
"Perhaps," Mitra said softly, "the Eminence in Shadow has more depth than we realized."
A system notification—now visible to Cid as well—flashed briefly before them all:
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION] Character Growth Recognized Bond Evolution: MUTUAL RESPECT Affection Pathways: DEEPENING Protocol Shift: INITIATED
The destiny of one delusional human and twelve divine women had taken an unexpected turn—from cosmic farce to something more complex, more genuine, and infinitely more interesting.
The true story of the Shadow Crown was only beginning.
Chapter 7: Truth and Consequences
The return journey to the Shadow Citadel was subdued. Cid had created another portal—consciously this time, focusing on his newly-discovered shadow manipulation abilities—and they had stepped through in silence, each lost in their own thoughts.
Now they gathered in what Cid had previously called his "war room"—a dramatic space with a massive table of black marble and walls lined with mysterious artifacts (all created by Rimuru based on his descriptions). The crystalline Eye of Eternal Dusk sat at the center of the table, its purple light pulsing gently.
Cid had abandoned his theatrical mannerisms and dramatic poses. He sat at the head of the table, his expression troubled as he struggled to reconcile his roleplaying fantasy with the cosmic reality he'd accidentally created.
"I need to understand exactly what happened," he said, his normal voice sounding strange to his own ears after days of affected baritone. "From the beginning."
"The crystal you shattered was a Cosmic Regulator," Vados explained, her staff tapping lightly against the floor. "A rare artifact created by higher-dimensional beings to maintain metaphysical balance between realms."
"When you broke it while expressing your desire for a 'divine court' bound to the 'Eminence in Shadow,' the regulator interpreted this as a command parameter," BB continued. "It reconfigured fundamental cosmic laws to accommodate your request."
"But why you twelve specifically?" Cid asked. "There must be countless divine beings across the multiverse."
The goddesses exchanged glances.
"We've been discussing that," Marie said gently. "The binding seems to have selected us based on complementary aspects to your self-image."
"Meaning?"
"Meaning," Arcueid elaborated with a hint of irritation, "that each of us represents some quality that resonates with your conception of a 'shadow sovereign.' I, for instance, embody ancient power with a modern sensibility—matching your desire to be both timeless and relevant."
"Scathach represents martial mastery and shadow manipulation," Artoria added. "Morgan embodies hidden knowledge and magical supremacy."
"I am creation itself," Tiamat said simply. "Your fantasy requires creating new realities from imagination."
"And I," Mitra said softly, "represent absolute devotion. The shadow sovereign in your mind commands unquestioning loyalty."
Cid winced at their assessment. "I sound like a narcissistic megalomaniac."
"Not necessarily," Marie countered kindly. "Fantasy personas often represent aspirational qualities we feel we lack in our ordinary lives. Your 'Eminence in Shadow' seems to embody confidence, significance, and control—things many humans desire."
"That doesn't excuse binding twelve goddesses to my will," Cid pointed out, rubbing his temples.
"No," Durga agreed bluntly. "It doesn't."
"But intent matters," Vados interjected. "You did not knowingly enslave us. And now that you understand, you're seeking to correct the situation."
"Which brings us to the current problem," Morgan said, leaning forward. "The binding appears fundamentally irreversible because it operates on a conceptual level. It's not merely a spell or contract that can be broken—it's a reconfiguration of how reality interacts with your existence."
"There must be something we can do," Cid insisted. "Some loophole or workaround."
Shiki, who had been silent until now, finally spoke. "I've been studying the binding with my Mystic Eyes of Death Perception. Most concepts have points where they can be 'killed'—lines where their existence can be severed. But this binding..."
"Yes?" Cid prompted when she hesitated.
"It has no death lines," Shiki finished. "It's as if it exists outside the concept of ending. I've never encountered anything like it."
"The System calls it PERMANENT and IRREVERSIBLE," Rimuru reminded them, conjuring a floating image of the notification they'd all seen.
"Systems can be hacked," BB suggested with a mischievous smile. "Given enough time and processing power, I might be able to identify vulnerabilities in its code structure."
"And I could search for precedents across the multiverse," Vados offered. "In my billions of years of existence, I've witnessed many supposedly 'permanent' phenomena eventually change or end."
"Do both," Cid nodded gratefully. "In the meantime, I should probably stop... well, being the Eminence in Shadow."
"That may be counterproductive," Morgan cautioned. "Your powers and the binding itself are linked to your self-perception. Abandoning that identity entirely might destabilize the entire construct."
"Including the Shadow Citadel and our current dimensional pocket," Rimuru added. "We're effectively living inside a manifestation of your imagination, reinforced by our divine powers."
Cid ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "So I need to keep roleplaying to maintain stability, but doing so strengthens the binding I'm trying to break?"
"The cosmic irony is quite remarkable," BB noted with inappropriate cheerfulness.
"There might be another approach," Marie suggested thoughtfully. "The binding formed based on your subconscious concept of a 'divine court' serving a 'shadow sovereign.' But those concepts can evolve."
"What do you mean?" Cid asked.
"Instead of trying to break the binding directly, we could change its nature," Marie explained. "Transform it from servitude to partnership. From compulsion to choice."
"Is that possible?" Cid looked to Vados, who seemed to have the broadest cosmic knowledge.
"Conceptual evolution is certainly possible," Vados confirmed. "Particularly for constructs tied to consciousness and emotional states. The binding already shows signs of adaptation based on your interactions with us."
"The system notifications mention 'bond evolution' and 'protocol shifts,'" Rimuru noted. "That suggests flexibility within the framework."
"So instead of master and servants," Cid summarized, "we work toward becoming... what? Equals? Friends?"
"Or more," Mitra said quietly, then looked surprised at her own words.
An awkward silence fell over the table.
"That brings us to another aspect of the binding we should discuss," Morgan said, clearly changing the subject. "The power transfer mechanism."
"Right," Cid nodded quickly, equally eager to move past Mitra's comment. "The system mentioned that emotional connections grant me powers. How exactly does that work?"
BB conjured a holographic display above the table, showing a complex diagram of energy flows between Cid and the twelve goddesses.
"Each interaction that generates emotion—positive or negative—creates an energy transfer," she explained. "The stronger the emotion, the greater the power granted. Different types of interactions trigger different abilities."
"Such as?" Cid prompted, studying the diagram with fascination.
"Blushes grant time manipulation," Arcueid admitted reluctantly. "Physical contact provides dimensional stability, as you experienced in the temple."
"Compliments generate shadow clones," Dur
ga added, not meeting Cid's eyes. "And there are... stronger triggers for more significant powers."
"Stronger triggers?" Cid repeated.
BB's smile turned mischievous. "The binding is emotion-based, with an emphasis on affection and attraction. The more... intimate the interaction, the more powerful the ability granted."
"Oh," Cid said, his face heating as understanding dawned. "You mean..."
"Yes," Morgan confirmed flatly. "The system is essentially designed to reward romantic and physical affection with cosmic power."
"That's..." Cid struggled to find an appropriate word.
"Absurd?" Arcueid suggested.
"Uncomfortable?" Marie offered.
"Cosmically hilarious?" BB supplied with a grin.
"All of the above," Cid settled on, running a hand through his hair. "I never intended to... I mean, I wouldn't want anyone to feel obligated to..."
"We know," Tiamat said, her maternal voice soothing. "The system's design reflects unconscious desires, not deliberate manipulation."
"Which doesn't make it less problematic," Artoria pointed out. "The power imbalance remains concerning."
"Hence our desire to evolve the binding toward partnership rather than servitude," Marie reminded them. "If emotional connections occur naturally, without coercion or obligation, the ethical concerns diminish."
Cid nodded slowly. "So our immediate goals are: research potential ways to break or fundamentally alter the binding, maintain stability without strengthening negative aspects of the connection, and work toward a more equal relationship dynamic."
"Succinctly put," Vados approved.
"And what do we do in the meantime?" Durga asked, her multiple arms crossed impatiently. "Continue living in this pocket dimension while twelve goddesses orbit a former chuunibyou?"
"We could still undertake missions," Rimuru suggested. "There are genuine evils across the multiverse that we could address, using our combined capabilities."
"Playing superhero, you mean?" Morgan raised an elegant eyebrow.
"Constructive action would give purpose to our current situation," Artoria countered. "And allow us to utilize our powers rather than remaining idle."
Cid considered this. "I did accidentally create dimensional portals and shadow manipulation abilities. It would be irresponsible not to learn to control them properly."
"Exactly," Shiki nodded. "Uncontrolled cosmic powers are more dangerous than controlled ones."
"Then we have a plan," Cid decided. "Research, training, and purposeful missions while we work on the binding issue."
"And regarding your persona?" Scathach inquired. "Will you continue as the 'Eminence in Shadow'?"
Cid hesitated. The revelation of his fantasy's reality had been deeply humbling. The theatrical posturing now seemed childish in retrospect.
"A modified approach," he finally answered. "Less dramatic monologuing, more practical leadership. But I'll maintain enough elements to keep the construct stable."
"A wise compromise," Vados approved.
"Well then," BB declared, clapping her hands together. "Since we're moving toward a more equal partnership, I suggest we celebrate our new arrangement with something that puts us all on the same level."
"Which is?" Cid asked cautiously.
BB's smile widened. "Cosmic karaoke night! Nothing breaks down barriers like embarrassing yourself musically in front of your peers!"
The suggestion was met with groans from several of the goddesses.
"I would rather face the stone sentinels again," Durga declared.
"I second the proposal," Rimuru countered, her eyes twinkling. "Shared vulnerability builds genuine connections."
"I'm not singing," Morgan stated flatly.
"Oh come now," BB cajoled. "Everyone sings. Even eldritch machine intelligences from beyond the dimensional pale."
"It might actually help," Marie observed quietly. "Informal social interaction without power dynamics or mission objectives."
Cid looked around the table at the twelve divine women—each impossibly powerful, impossibly beautiful, and now impossibly bound to him through a cosmic mishap born of his overactive imagination.
"I'll sing if everyone else does," he offered with a tentative smile—his own smile, not the practiced mysterious smirk of his shadow sovereign persona.
"Deal!" BB exclaimed before anyone could object. "I'll create the perfect interdimensional karaoke setup. Eight o'clock in the grand hall!"
As the meeting dispersed, Mitra lingered behind. When only she and Cid remained in the war room, she spoke softly.
"May I ask you something personal?"
"Of course," Cid replied, still unused to conversing normally after days of theatrical dialogue.
"Before all this happened—before the crystal and the binding—were you happy?"
The question caught him off guard. "Happy?" he repeated.
"Yes. In your ordinary life, as an ordinary human. Were you content?"
Cid considered the question seriously. "Not entirely," he admitted. "I had a decent job, a comfortable apartment, a few casual friends. But something was always... missing. That's why I created the Eminence in Shadow persona. It gave me excitement, purpose, a sense of significance that my regular life lacked."
"And now that the fantasy has become reality?"
"Now I'm terrified," Cid answered honestly. "I've inadvertently bound twelve divine beings to my will. I'm developing powers I don't understand and can barely control. The fate of multiple dimensions might depend on my actions." He shook his head. "It's overwhelming."
"Yet you seem more authentic now than you did before," Mitra observed. "More present in each moment."
Cid blinked in surprise. "I do?"
"The shadow sovereign was a mask—elaborate but hollow. Now we're beginning to see the person behind it." She smiled gently. "I find I prefer the reality to the fantasy."
Before Cid could respond, Mitra turned and glided from the room, leaving him to ponder her words.
The grand hall had been transformed. BB had outdone herself, creating a cosmic karaoke setup that defied ordinary physics. The stage was a platform of pure crystalline light, floating above a floor that rippled like the surface of a dark galaxy. The microphone seemed to be made of condensed starlight, and the display screen shifted between multiple dimensional planes, making the lyrics visible from any angle.
Couches and lounges of various designs formed a semicircle around the stage, with small tables bearing refreshments between them. The ceiling had become a panoramic view of countless stars and nebulae, slowly rotating in mesmerizing patterns.
"Welcome to BB's Multiversal Karaoke Extravaganza!" the Moon Cell manipulator announced as the divine court filtered into the hall. She had exchanged her usual outfit for something reminiscent of a game show hostess, complete with a sparkly microphone. "Tonight, we transcend cosmic hierarchies through the universal language of embarrassing ourselves musically!"
"I already regret agreeing to this," Morgan muttered, though she accepted a goblet of shimmering liquid from a passing tray.
"The rules are simple," BB continued. "Everyone sings at least one song. No exceptions, no excuses. The system has access to music from all dimensions, all eras, all realities—so choose wisely!"
"Who goes first?" Rimuru asked, looking excited despite the reluctance of some of her peers.
"We'll draw lots," BB declared, producing a crystal bowl filled with glowing orbs. "Each orb determines your position in the lineup. No cheating with divine precognition, Shiki!"
"I wouldn't waste my abilities on something so trivial," Shiki replied, though her lips twitched slightly.
One by one, they drew their lots. Cid ended up with the final position—either incredibly lucky or unlucky, depending on one's perspective.
"And our first performer is..." BB consulted her list, "Artoria Pendragon! The Once and Future King graces our stage!"
Artoria rose with dignity, her regal bearing undiminished by the absurdity of the situation. "I shall fulfill my obligation with honor," she declared, ascending to the stage.
To everyone's surprise, she selected "Bohemian Rhapsody."
What followed was perhaps the most epically serious rendition of Queen's masterpiece ever performed. Artoria approached the song as she would a battle—with absolute commitment and zero irony. Her voice, though not professionally trained, carried the power and presence of a true ruler.
By the time she reached the operatic section, even Morgan was watching with grudging respect.
"Is this really happening?" Cid whispered to Vados beside him. "A divine aspect of King Arthur singing Freddie Mercury?"
"Reality often exceeds imagination in its strangeness," Vados replied with a serene smile. "This is hardly the most unusual thing I've witnessed in my billions of years."
When Artoria finished, the applause was genuine. She bowed formally and returned to her seat with the same dignity she'd shown throughout.
"That sets a high bar!" BB declared. "Next up... Durga!"
The warrior goddess approached the stage with obvious reluctance, her multiple arms crossing defensively. "I destroy civilizations. I don't sing for entertainment."
"Tonight you do both," BB corrected cheerfully. "Choose your weapon, I mean, song!"
After glaring at the selection interface, Durga finally chose "War" by Edwin Starr. Her performance was aggressive and powerful, with her multiple arms punctuating the chorus with synchronized gestures that sent small shockwaves through the room. By the end, she seemed to be actually enjoying herself, though she quickly resumed her scowl when returning to her seat.
"Who knew the goddess of destruction had rhythm?" BB commented. "Next performer: Tiamat!"
The primordial mother approached the stage with serene confidence. Without consulting the catalog, she began to sing something that wasn't in any recognizable language. The melody seemed to shift and change like water, and the lights around them responded to her voice, forming patterns reminiscent of DNA helixes and celestial formations.
"What is she singing?" Cid asked, mesmerized.
"The Song of Creation," Marie whispered. "The harmonic patterns that shaped the first life in her universe. We're hearing it in a form our minds can process, but the actual frequencies would reorganize matter at the molecular level."
When Tiamat finished, there wasn't immediate applause—everyone was too caught in the lingering echoes of her performance, feeling strangely renewed.
"Well," BB finally broke the silence, "that's certainly a tough act to follow, but next up... Rimuru!"
The slime goddess bounded onto the stage with enthusiasm. "I've been waiting for this! I've analyzed music from seventeen different dimensions to prepare!"
She launched into an upbeat J-pop song, complete with choreography that occasionally involved her briefly morphing parts of her body into different shapes or colors for visual effect. Her performance was technically perfect and infectiously joyful.
"She's actually good," Arcueid commented with surprise.
"Slimes are natural mimics," Vados explained. "She's probably reproduced exactly what she observed from professional performers."
Next came Morgan, who surprised everyone by selecting "Wicked Game" by Chris Isaak. Her haunting, slightly raspy voice perfectly captured the song's melancholy sensuality. The fae queen kept her eyes closed throughout, as if singing to herself rather than performing.
"I didn't expect her to have such a beautiful voice," Cid remarked to Marie.
"Morgan contains multitudes," Marie replied softly. "As do we all."
BB took her turn with predictable flamboyance, performing "Bad Romance" with elaborate visual effects generated by her Moon Cell connections. Holographic duplicates of herself served as backup dancers, and occasionally the stage itself seemed to transform around her.
Vados chose a piece that she claimed was popular in Universe 6 millions of years ago—a strangely hypnotic combination of tones that seemed to bypass normal hearing and resonate directly in the mind. Shiki performed a traditional Japanese folk song with quiet intensity, her eyes occasionally flickering to their mystical state during particularly emotional passages.
Scathach approached her performance like a martial display, selecting a Celtic battle anthem that showcased her powerful voice and commanding presence. Marie sang a gentle lullaby that left several listeners wiping away unexpected tears.
When Arcueid's turn came, she initially refused to leave her seat. "This is beneath my dignity as a True Ancestor," she declared.
"Everyone else has done it," BB pointed out. "Even Morgan. Are you claiming to have less courage than a fae queen?"
That provocation worked. Arcueid stalked to the stage, crimson eyes flashing dangerously. "One song. Then never speak of this again."
She selected "Supermassive Black Hole" by Muse, delivering a performance of surprising intensity and sensuality. Her movements were predatory and fluid, reminiscent of her battle style but with an added layer of deliberate allure.
Cid found himself unable to look away, a reaction that did not go unnoticed by several of the divine women.
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION] Affection Pathway: ESTABLISHING Connection Type: AESTHETIC APPRECIATION Power Transfer: POTENTIAL DETECTED
Finally, only Mitra and Cid remained.
"The goddess of supreme devotion approaches the stage," BB announced. "What will she choose to sing in the presence of her bound sovereign?"
Mitra ascended with quiet grace. Instead of using the selection interface, she simply nodded to BB, who seemed to understand her intention.
The lights dimmed except for a single spotlight on Mitra. When she began to sing, her voice was pure and clear, the melody ancient and somehow familiar though Cid had never heard it before.
"She's singing the Hymn of Devotion," Tiamat explained in a whisper. "A song sung only by her highest priestesses, meant to express the perfect dedication of a soul to its chosen purpose."
The lyrics, though in a language Cid didn't recognize, seemed to convey yearning, loyalty, and a complex emotion that transcended simple categories. Throughout the performance, Mitra's eyes never left Cid's, creating an intimate connection despite the presence of the others.
When she finished, the silence was profound.
"Well," BB finally said, her usual exuberance subdued, "it appears we've saved the most personal for the penultimate. And now, the moment we've all been waiting for—our very own Eminence in Shadow takes the stage!"
All eyes turned to Cid, who suddenly felt deeply unprepared. What could he possibly sing that wouldn't seem ridiculous after the divine performances he'd just witnessed?
As he reluctantly approached the stage, an idea formed. He'd been trying to find a balance between maintaining enough of his shadow sovereign persona to keep their reality stable while being more authentic in his interactions. Perhaps this was an opportunity to express that duality.
"I'll need a specific song," he told BB quietly. "One that might not be in your catalog."
BB raised an eyebrow. "Try me. The Moon Cell's archives are surprisingly comprehensive."
Cid whispered his request. BB's eyes widened slightly, then she smiled. "Interesting choice. I'll arrange it."
As Cid took position on the stage, the lights shifted to a combination of deep shadows and subtle illumination. The music began—a modern arrangement of an ancient Japanese folk melody, created for a series about a man leading a double life.
Cid began to sing "Visual Dream" from Visual Prison, a song about illusion and reality, shadows and light, the performance persona versus the true self. His voice wasn't divine or supernaturally powerful, but it carried genuine emotion—the tension between the fantasy he'd created and the reality he now faced.
As he sang, shadows swirled around him—not as a conscious display of power, but as an unconscious manifestation of his evolving abilities responding to his emotional state. Light and darkness danced together, neither overwhelming the other, finding a harmony that reflected his internal journey.
When he finished, there was a moment of silence before the applause began—led, surprisingly, by Durga.
"Not terrible," the warrior goddess admitted gruffly. "For a mortal."
"I think that's the highest praise she's given anyone," Rimuru whispered loudly.
"The shadow sovereign appreciates your acknowledgment," Cid replied with a slight bow, a hint of his theatrical persona showing through—but now with a self-aware smile that acknowledged its performative nature.
"And that concludes our first Multiversal Karaoke Extravaganza!" BB declared. "Now, let the real party begin!"
The stage dissolved, reforming as a more general gathering space. Music from various dimensions began playing at a comfortable volume, and the refreshment tables expanded to offer more substantial fare.
As the gathering transitioned to a more informal social event, Cid found himself approached by Arcueid, who had been one of the most openly antagonistic toward him before.
"Your performance was unexpected," she said without preamble.
"Is that a compliment?" Cid asked cautiously.
"An observation." Her crimson eyes studied him with predatory intensity. "The song you chose—it was about the gap between perception and reality."
"Yes," Cid acknowledged. "It seemed appropriate, given our situation."
"Hmm." Arcueid sipped from a goblet that contained a liquid too red to be wine. "When we were first bound to you, I saw only the delusional facade—the ridiculous 'Eminence in Shadow' with his dramatic poses and overblown declarations."
"That's fair," Cid admitted. "I was pretty deep in the roleplay."
"But there's something underneath that," she continued, surprising him. "Something that recognized the truth when confronted with it. Something that immediately sought to right the wrong, even at the cost of your fantasy."
"It was the only decent response," Cid shrugged. "I never wanted to trap anyone."
"Many humans would have embraced the power," Arcueid countered. "Especially after tasting what it offers."
She leaned closer, her otherworldly beauty momentarily overwhelming at such proximity. "Do you know how many mortals have begged for even a fraction of what you now possess? Kings, emperors, mages—all desperate for the merest touch of divine power. Yet you seek to undo it."
"Because it came at the cost of your freedom," Cid replied simply.
Arcueid's lips curved into the barest smile. "Curious. I've lived for millennia, and humans still manage to surprise me occasionally."
With that enigmatic statement, she turned and glided away, leaving Cid wondering if he'd just experienced a moment of connection or evaluation.
As the evening progressed, Cid found himself engaging in more genuine conversations with various members of his "divine court." Without the pressure of maintaining his shadow sovereign persona at full intensity, he was able to be more himself—still influenced by his imagined role, but with authentic reactions showing through.
Rimuru shared stories of her experiences adapting to humanoid form after beginning existence as a slime. BB regaled him with tales of the Moon Cell's digital infinities. Even Morgan, after several goblets of fae wine, unbent enough to describe the architectural wonders of her kingdom in Avalon.
Later in the evening, as the gathering began to naturally segment into smaller conversation groups, Cid found a quiet moment to observe it all from a slight distance. The scene before him would have been unimaginable just days ago—twelve divine women from across the multiverse, engaged in everything from heated philosophical debates to playful competitions, all within a castle he had imagined into existence.
"Quite a change from your solitary roleplaying sessions, isn't it?" came Vados's voice as she joined him.
"Understatement of the century," Cid agreed with a rueful smile. "I still can't believe any of this is real."
"Reality is more flexible than most beings realize," Vados replied, watching the gathering with serene detachment. "Particularly at the intersection of belief, desire, and cosmic anomaly."
"You seem the least troubled by all this," Cid observed. "Even though you're bound like the others."
"I've existed for billions of years," Vados explained. "I've been the attendant to a Destroyer God whose tantrums can obliterate solar systems. I've witnessed the rise and fall of countless civilizations. A temporary binding to an evolving mortal is... an interesting diversion, rather than a catastrophe."
"Temporary?" Cid caught the word immediately. "You believe the binding can be broken?"
Vados tapped her staff thoughtfully against the floor. "Perhaps not broken in the conventional sense. But everything evolves, given sufficient time and impetus. The binding is already changing as your relationship with each of us changes."
"Into what, though?" Cid wondered.
"That," Vados smiled enigmatically, "is what makes this particular cosmic anomaly so fascinating to observe."
Chapter 8: Dreams and Revelations
That night, long after the karaoke gathering had dispersed, Cid lay in his oversized bed in the central tower of the Shadow Citadel, staring at the ceiling as sleep eluded him. The day's revelations churned in his mind—the true nature of the binding, the power dynamics it created, the responsibility he now bore for twelve divine beings.
"What a mess," he muttered to himself, running a hand through his hair. "From chuunibyou to cosmic captor in one crystal break."
Eventually, exhaustion claimed him, and he drifted into uneasy sleep. But this was no ordinary slumber.
Cid found himself standing in an impossible space—a vast chamber with walls of flowing darkness and a floor like polished obsidian that reflected a starry void beneath. Twelve thrones of varying designs formed a circle around a central dais, upon which stood a pedestal bearing the purple crystal he had shattered—now whole again.
"What is this place?" he wondered aloud.
"The Nexus of Binding," came a voice from behind him.
Cid turned to find Mitra standing there, her divine radiance subtly illuminating the darkness around them.
"We're in a dream," he realized. "But not just my dream."
"A shared mindscape," Mitra confirmed. "Created by the binding to facilitate deeper communication between bound entities."
"Are the others here too?"
"They will be," Mitra replied. "The mindscape draws us in one by one, as needed."
As if summoned by her words, Morgan le Fay materialized beside one of the thrones—an elaborate seat of twisted black wood and silver filigree that perfectly matched her aesthetic.
"So this is the root structure," she observed, examining their surroundings with professional interest. "The conceptual framework of the binding made manifest."
"Can we use this place?" Cid asked. "To better understand the binding, or maybe even alter it?"
"Perhaps," Morgan conceded. "Dream realms often allow manipulation of metaphysical constructs that would be impossible in waking reality."
One by one, the other divine women appeared, each manifesting beside a throne that seemed designed specifically for them. BB arrived with a playful spin, Durga stomped in with obvious irritation, Vados simply faded into existence as if she'd always been there.
"Well, isn't this cozy?" BB commented, draping herself across her throne—a stylized digital construct that occasionally flickered with code. "Our very own shared dreamspace. How romantic!"
"This isn't for entertainment," Artoria admonished, standing rigidly beside her golden throne. "This is a manifestation of the binding's core structure."
"Both observations can be true," Rimuru pointed out, examining her throne of flowing blue crystal with curiosity.
Cid turned slowly, taking in the complete circle of divine women and their thrones. "Why are we here? What triggered this shared dream?"
"Evolution," Vados answered, her staff tapping against the obsidian floor. "The binding is adapting to our changing relationship dynamic. Today's events—the revelations at the temple, the war room discussion, the social gathering—have altered the conceptual framework."
"And the crystal?" Cid gestured to the restored artifact on the pedestal.
"The source code, so to speak," BB explained, suddenly serious despite her relaxed posture. "The original parameters of the binding, preserved in our collective unconscious."
Tiamat rose from her throne of primordial stone and approached the crystal. "It contains the initial imprint—your desire for a divine court bound to the Eminence in Shadow."
"But desires can change," Marie added gently. "Evolve into something more nuanced, more equal."
Cid walked to the center of the circle, standing before the crystal pedestal. "If this represents the original binding, can we modify it here? Change its parameters?"
"Theoretically," Morgan acknowledged, joining them at the center. "But the risk is substantial. This construct exists at the deepest level of our connected consciousness. Altering it incorrectly could strengthen the binding or cause unforeseen consequences."
"It would require perfect consensus," Scathach added, her crimson eyes studying the crystal intently. "All thirteen of us aligned in purpose and intent."
"Are we?" Cid looked around the circle. "Aligned, I mean?"
"Not entirely," Durga stated bluntly. "Some of us still prioritize breaking the binding completely."
"Others find the arrangement... not wholly objectionable," Mitra said softly.
"And some remain neutral observers," Vados added with a serene smile.
"Until we achieve true consensus, attempting to modify the core parameters would be dangerous," Artoria concluded.
"But this space could still be useful," Shiki observed, approaching the crystal with her mystic eyes activated. "Here, I can see patterns in the binding that are invisible in the waking world."
"As can I," Morgan agreed. "The metaphysical structure is more accessible in this dream state."
"Then perhaps that's why we're here," Marie suggested. "Not to immediately change the binding, but to better understand it—together."
The thirteen of them gathered around the crystal, each perceiving it through their unique divine senses. To Cid's surprise, he could see it too—not just the physical crystal, but the complex web of energies and connections flowing from it to each of the twelve goddesses, and back to him in a perpetual circuit.
"It's beautiful," he murmured, surprised by his own reaction.
"Beauty and imprisonment can coexist," Arcueid reminded him, though her tone lacked its usual edge.
As they studied the crystal together, Cid began to notice patterns in the energy flows—how they varied in color and intensity between different goddesses. Some connections pulsed with vibrant energy, others flowed more subtly, and a few seemed tense or constrained.
"The connections aren't uniform," he observed. "They're individualized to each of you."
"Of course," BB nodded. "The binding adapts to our divine natures and our personal relationship with you."
"And they're changing," Rimuru added, pointing to the flows. "Even as we watch. See how Arcueid's connection has shifted since the karaoke performance?"
Indeed, the energy between Cid and Arcueid had transformed from a taut, resistant strand to something more fluid and harmonious.
"This confirms my hypothesis," Vados noted with satisfaction. "The binding evolves based on genuine interaction and emotional development."
"Which means forced or artificial affection would have no effect," Marie added meaningfully. "Only authentic connection changes the fundamental nature of the bond."
Cid absorbed this information, watching the complex dance of energies linking him to these twelve divine beings. "So the path forward isn't breaking the binding directly, but transforming it through genuine relationship?"
"That appears to be one possibility," Morgan conceded reluctantly. "Though I still intend to research more direct methods."
"As should we all," Artoria agreed. "Multiple approaches increase our chances of success."
As they continued to study the crystal, the dreamscape began to shift subtly around them. The walls of darkness pulsed with increasing luminosity, and the starry void beneath the floor seemed to draw closer.
"Something's happening," Shiki warned, her hand moving to a weapon that wasn't there in this dream state.
"The binding is responding to our collective focus," Tiamat explained, her primordial senses alert. "It's showing us more."
The crystal suddenly flared with intense purple light, projecting images into the air above them—scenes from various timelines, possibilities that branched from their current situation.
In one timeline, they saw Cid fully embracing his Eminence in Shadow persona, growing increasingly powerful as the divine women fell deeper under his influence. His shadow abilities expanded until he became a true cosmic entity, reshaping reality according to his whims.
In another, they witnessed the binding violently breaking, the backlash devastating multiple dimensions as thirteen beings of immense power were suddenly disconnected from a reality-defining construct.
A third showed a gradual transformation of their relationship—the hierarchical binding evolving into something more akin to a covenant of equals, with power flowing freely in all directions rather than just to Cid.
"Potential futures," Vados identified. "The binding is showing us possible outcomes based on our choices."
"Warning us," Durga corrected grimly, pointing to the destructive timeline.
"Or guiding us," Marie countered, gesturing to the more balanced outcome.
As they watched, more timelines appeared, each showing different configurations of their unusual relationship. In some, romantic connections formed between Cid and various goddesses. In others, they became a unified force addressing cosmic threats. In yet others, they found ways to maintain connection while regaining independence.
"There are so many possibilities," Cid murmured, overwhelmed by the proliferation of potential futures.
"The multiverse thrives on possibility," Vados reminded him. "What matters is which path we choose to pursue."
Suddenly, the crystal pulsed more intensely, and all the timeline projections vanished except one—a scene showing the thirteen of them facing some vast, shadowy entity that seemed to devour light and reality itself.
"What is that?" Cid asked, disturbed by the ominous image.
"A Void Harbinger," Tiamat answered, her voice unusually tense. "A cosmic predator that consumes dimensional nexus points."
"Like the one we've inadvertently created with our binding and the Shadow Citadel," Vados added grimly.
The projection showed the thirteen of them fighting the entity together, their powers synchronized through the binding in ways that would be impossible for thirteen separate individuals, no matter how powerful.
"Is this a prediction?" Artoria demanded. "Or merely a possibility?"
"Difficult to determine," Morgan replied, her arcane senses probing the projection. "But the binding appears to be highlighting this particular timeline with unusual emphasis."
"A threat assessment," Scathach suggested. "Warning us of danger to the construct it exists to maintain."
"Or manipulation," Durga countered skeptically. "Showing us a scenario where the binding is necessary for our survival."
Before they could discuss further, the crystal flared one final time, and a date appeared in glowing figures above the monstrous entity:
7 DAYS HENCE