"How is that possible? Lady Penelope is dead?" screamed a good-looking old woman heavily clothed in very ancient reddish-colored garments. Her golden crown studded with gems shook vigorously from her shaking. The huge marble hall reverberated with her voice as her followers kneeled at her feet with heads lowered in fear.
"No, no, no, no way!" Her voice broke, her hands clutching the arm of her throne. "How?!"
"E-Empress…." A young man in black armor stood up, his forehead glistening wet with perspiration. "S-She was ambushed by an onslaught of demons all of a sudden. As far as our scouts gathered, Lady Penelope did not rest for seven days and seven nights, without sustenance or repose. The demons and beasts… They did not give us a chance to get there. When we did arrive, it was… it was already too late."
The Empress's breath hitched, and her eyes went wide. "What of her relatives, then? Her offspring, successors?"
"They've all been… killed, Your Majesty," a middle-aged woman cried, on the verge of tears as she hugged the embroidered robe bearing the sigil of her group, a sword entwined in flowers. "Our lords are dead. Who would have thought the Mantocons had bred in such great quantities?! We were not prepared….
"Impossible!" shouted the Empress, pounding her fist on the throne.
There was a heavy silence that followed, except for the sobbing. Finally, the Empress leaned back on her throne. "What are we supposed to do now? Our neighbors are all down. Our borders are crumbling by the day. We're next. Is there hope left for humanity?"
Finally, she saw a woman in a robe of overlapping swords step forward. This was Gaziel, "the woman with the sword-robe." Despite her obvious pain, she raised her chin. "Our family
The Empress's eyes narrowed. "What plan?"
Gaziel bowed deeply. "We must call on the other priestess, from another world."
Brows furrowed on the Empress's face. "Summon? What are you talking about? Only the bloodline of Penelope Gavunrao could have the right to be called a Priestess. This was the law of the heavens."
"Yes, Your Majesty," replied Gaziel calmly. "However, my master's family did have a hidden magic. An emergency option, well, for a disaster like today. The magic…. Transports two members from the line of Gavunrao into another realm. In concealment until the time for the return has arrived."
Indeed, the Empress's eyes widened with a glimmer of hopeful desperation. "Then we must begin the ritual immediately. Summon her! Summon them back!"
Gaziel lowered her head in shame. "The spell… can only be done during the full moon. We have to wait. Until then, we could only survive."
"May your will be done!" chanted the whole court in harmony, bowing their heads to the ground.
______
"Dammit, why is this so hard?!"
A young woman threw her controller against the couch, her glare at the screen seething. The light from the monitor shone against her cheeks and the tinge of anger on her otherwise stoic features. A slouch from her headset weighed it precariously upon her head.
"You have to follow the tutorial carefully in order to make your own custom-made gun," the YouTube video repeated monotonously.
"Your tutorial is trash!" Fiona shrieked back at the screen, as if she could reach the person on YouTube. "I've been grinding for six hours, six freaking hours! And I still don't have it?!"
She ripped off her headset, her hand going through her misbehaved ginger hair. Strands of hair stood up in every which way. Her dead green eyes flashed angrily in the low lighting, her irritation not helping her looks one bit. Her caramel skin was slicked with sweat from her rage sessions, her singlet clinging to her damp skin.
"Five whole days with this. And people wonder why I hate fake YouTubers," she muttered, throwing the headset down and stepping out of the room.
Downstairs, her father sat in front of the television set, a bottle cradled in his hands. A younger iteration of him stood triumphant upon the screen, a katana held aloft as if it were the world, his jaw set and his prosthetic leg catching the illumination of the television.
"Dad, I'm going out for take-out. Do you want anything?" Fiona asked while putting on her sneakers.
"Yes," he muttered, hardly raising his gaze. His hair, once golden, had dulled with age, and his bright blue eyes were no longer as vibrant as they had been in his youth. None of these attributes were found in Fiona either. They did not look alike, but this had never been an issue.
Fiona smirked, positioning herself in front of the television. "You know, if you want me to do martial arts, why not just tell me? I'd like to," she said.
Zack's gaze darted upwards, hard and weighed down with intensity. "With over fifty opponents crippled in each tournament you've ever entered? Not a chance." He grudgingly readjusted his limb with a grunt. "You're killing, not fighting."
Fiona snorted in response, not bothering. "And? You wanted me to be strong. I simply exceeded your expectations."
"I'll come with you. We'll buy food together," he said as he pulled himself up. The house was small, but adequate for a modest middle-class living.
Fiona smiled to herself. "Go on, I understand that you only want to see me pursue what you didn't finish doing. But don't worry; I'm your filial daughter, I'll listen to your instructions, Father." Fiona smiled weakly, her smile etched so sharply across her face that it made him feel a chill run down his spine.
Inside, Zack, her father, bitterly thought, 'This is why I don't let her compete. She's not normal. She's a monster masquerading as a human. If she doesn't learn control, one day she'll find herself behind bars… or worse.'
His mind wandered back. A camping trip, a decade ago. the wolf. The way Fiona at the age of ten had launched herself at the beast before he could even use the blade from his knife. The way she laughed while knocking the bones apart, piece by piece. On that day itself, he had witnessed her smile for the first time despite her being a stoic child.
He had trained her. He had tried. Martial arts and swordsmanship were no problem for her to master, but fight like a student? No, every battle was life and death. She was a killer. He had seen her cripple every opponent she faced. He had seen her smile sadistically. He had seen her smile often. He was repulsed. He was repulsed by each crippled opponent. He was rep
She got banned. He prohibited her fighting. Nevertheless, she persisted in going to secret matches, returning home beat up, with blood all over her, yet her eyes sparkled with happiness. Still, she honored him. She followed his instructions to desist.
Now, as they came back laden with food, his gaze followed the marks that laced her arms in the sun, shining bright brown. Zack scrunched up his face. "Look at you. You're covered in scars. How do you expect to find a husband like that?"
"I'm not interested in that nonsense," Fiona said. "As long as I can work, earn money, and provide for you, I'm fine." The sincerity in her words made her expression come off as sincere, and Zack felt his chest constrict.
"You're a grown-up. You should be out with your pals, and not sitting on guard watching your old dad," Zack muttered.
"I do hang out with my girls, Father. But weekends are only for you."
Zack asked in genuine shock. "You… have friends?"
Fiona raised an eyebrow. "What kind of person do you think I am?"
"I always thought you were just a tomboy loner," he admitted bluntly.
Fiona scowled. "I have friends, okay." She jerked the door open
_____
Later that evening, after they'd eaten, Fiona headed up to her room while Zack was left standing there, gazing at the blank television screen. He was bothered by something and with a heavy heart headed down into the basement.
There was a faint reddish glow pulsating from the floor. As he opened the door, he noticed the magic circle in the room illuminated. Zack gripped his sleeve tightly as he took a breath.
"Now? Already?" His voice cracked. "She is not ready. She will only cause trouble."
But the circle pulsed with a greater intensity, as if it too were reacting to this exchange. Zack's features stiffened into a grim mask. "If it's the will of the gods. then I have no choice."
He walked back upstairs. His footsteps were heavy. Fiona cocked her head as he came into her room. "Father. What is going on—"
Before she had time to react, Zack laid an amulet against her forehead. She went limp, her eyes rolling back into her head, before falling into his arms.
His tears fell soundlessly into her hair. "I know that if I asked that child to leave, she wouldn't dare leave my side. I wish, Fiona, that I could go with you. The magic circle can only hold and transport one person before it disappears forever."
He bore her towards the radiant ring, his legs weighed down. When he placed her down, the magic started devouring her flesh
"I've done my duty for the Gavunrao family," Zack whispered harshly. "But more than that, I've done my duty as your father."
His lips trembled as her form disappeared into the light. "My daughter… ha. Do you even need my worry? You'll survive. You always do."
_______
"A human… she smells delicious," hissed a chorus of raspy voices.
Fiona's lids fluttered open. She spun in her head. She felt as if her body weighed a thousand pounds. Yet this voice in her cried for danger. She bolted awake.
"What the. where the hell am I?" She swore, her hands clasping the grass in her fingers. The tactile was too palpable, the smell of damp earth far too vivid.
Her eyes jerked up. A semicircle of figures towered above her. They were like people in shape, but their faces, where the flesh was thin and wavy ridges of teeth were exposed were monstrous.
"No way." Fiona stuck out her tongue and swallowed hard. "W-What the actual hell? I was in my room. I was playing games. And now." She gazed down at the meadow rolling out before her in every direction. Grasses waved in the breeze. "Am I in some random-ass field? Is this some joke? Some VR joke? But I never even bought a headset."
She was left mute by the onrushing demons.
"Heh. Human, are you afraid?" chuckled one with a crooked lower jaw, his forked tongue darting between his teeth. "Beg for mercy. We'll let you live. Pretty ones like you. we like to play with."
Fiona tilted her head, her face remaining stoic. "…Is this some cheap movie script? You guys seriously talk like that? I'm either hallucinating or I've officially lost my damn mind."
"Don't ignore us, you stupid human!" snarled a frog-faced demon who was nearly six feet tall, his jagged shark-teeth glinting wetly as if dripping saliva. He lurched to attack, his claw
"Reflex."
Fiona's muscles acted independently of her brain. She let out a snort, caught his swipe in mid-arm, and turned it hard.
'AAAAARGH! My arm! My arm!!' The frog demon screamed as its bone fractured like dry wood.
All of them froze, their ill-looking eyes widening. "She. she twisted his arm like she was wringing a rag," the skull-faced demon thought, feeling unease creep up into his chest. "Trying to think here," Fiona bit out, her grip just as crushing on the demon's limb, "and you're pissing me right off." Fiona finally released him. "Her green eyes narrowed as realization dawned. The flesh she had under her fingers wasn't foam rubber or plastic. The warmth, the sensations, it was real. Their smell reeked, and it reeked of the real thing too," "These aren't costumes," she whispered, her glare intensifying. "And this place… it isn't Earth." "Isekai?" The very idea broke through her mind like lightning. "That's ridiculous. That's only something you see in fiction. It's scientifically impossible." "Brothers! Attack her!" cried the frog-demon in a cruel voice, his agony turned to madness. They roared and charged at her.