The following morning, the Hub's simulated sunlight filtered through the grand windows of Theodore's mansion, a sprawling estate that served as the anchor for his growing collection of multiversal refugees.
Theodore stood on the balcony, watching Ardyn Izunia. The man was standing in the garden, staring at a common rose with an intensity that suggested he was trying to memorize the very concept of a flower that didn't smell of rot.
"It's time for introductions, Ardyn,"
Theodore said, leaning over the railing.
"You aren't the only one I've dragged out of a collapsing narrative."
Ardyn looked up, his expression one of mild curiosity.
"Ah, the others, I was wondering when I'd meet the rest of the menagerie."
Theodore led Ardyn into the grand parlor, where the atmosphere was thick with a presence that even the System's power-dampeners couldn't entirely mask.
Standing near the fireplace was Lady Alcina Dimitrescu, her height making even the spacious room feel cramped(she became smaller but still tall).
Beside her, seated with a regal, terrifying stillness, was Queen Marika the Eternal.
Ardyn froze. His eyes, trained by two thousand years of dealing with the divine, widened.
He had spent his life being toyed with by the Astrals of Eos—beings of immense power but limited scope.
But the two women before him... they felt like fundamental forces of nature.
"Ardyn, this is Alcina Dimitrescu,"
Theodore introduced, gesturing to the giantess.
"And Marika. In their worlds, they were a Matriarch and a True Goddess. Here, they are our share house mates."
Alcina looked Ardyn up and down, her golden eyes sharp.
"So, this is the one who played at being a plague? You look a bit... weathered, darling. A bit thin in the soul."
Marika didn't speak initially. She simply looked at Ardyn, and for a moment, the former Chancellor felt as though he were being weighed against the Golden Order itself.
Even without her divinity, her presence was like a physical weight.
"You are free of your Grace,"
Marika said, her voice like a grinding stone.
"And your curse. That is a rare mercy."
Ardyn recovered his composure, offering a shallow, mocking bow—old habits died hard.
"A pleasure, My Ladies. It seems Theodore has a penchant for collecting broken crowns. I feel quite at home."
As the morning progressed, the tension softened into a strange, domestic normalcy.
Alcina, who had taken a surprising interest in the Hub's burgeoning economy, poured a glass of wine for Ardyn.
It wasn't replicated; it was from her private cellar in the Hub's "Castle" wing.
"Theodore tells me you have a refined palate,"
Alcina said, sitting across from him.
"And a silver tongue. My company, Dimitrescu Imports, handles the distribution of high-end luxury goods and exotic vintages across the world. I find myself in need of someone who understands the... theatricality of sales. Someone who knows that a bottle of wine is not just fermented grapes, but an experience."
Ardyn took a sip of the wine, his eyes brightening.
"A hint of plum, a touch of soil... and the faint metallic tang of a life well-lived. This is exquisite, my lady."
"I have the warehouses, and I have the infrastructure,"
She continued.
"But I lack a Director of Marketing who can charm the money out of a stone. You spent centuries manipulating empires, Ardyn. Surely you can handle a few wealthy merchants?"
Ardyn chuckled, leaning back into the velvet chair.
"A Director, you say? From a King to a Chancellor, and now to a merchant. The trajectory of my life is truly a zig-zag. I accept, My Lady. It will be a delight to sell something other than despair."
Later that afternoon, Theodore decided it was time to show Ardyn the city: New York.
They stepped through a localized portal, emerging onto a rooftop in Manhattan.
Compared to the crystalline, neon-drenched spires of Insomnia or the floating canals of Altissia, 1990s New York felt gritty, loud, and vibrantly alive.
The air smelled of hot dogs, diesel exhaust, and the sweat of millions of people rushing to places that didn't matter in the grand scheme of the cosmos.
"It's... primitive,"
Ardyn remarked, looking down at the yellow taxis clogging the streets.
"The technology is laughable compared to Niflheim. And yet..."
"And yet it feels real,"
Theodore finished for him.
"There's no Magitek here. No gods walking the streets. Just people trying to pay rent and find a decent slice of pizza. It's the baseline, Ardyn. The feeling of a world that doesn't need a hero to keep it from falling apart."
They spent the day walking through Central Park and the neon glow of Times Square.
Ardyn was fascinated by the simplest things: a street performer playing a saxophone, the way people ignored the massive skyscrapers above them, and the sheer chaos of a subway station at rush hour.
"In Eos, everything was so... heavy with meaning,"
Ardyn mused as they sat on a bench near the Bethesda Fountain.
"Every stone was part of a prophecy. Every child was a potential sacrifice. Here, a man can trip over his own shoelaces and it's just a clumsy moment, not an omen of the world's end."
As the sun began to set over the Hudson River, Theodore pulled a small, glowing device from his pocket—a shard of the System's core.
"I spoke to the System, Ardyn,"
Theodore said.
"The Starscourge gave you immortality, but it was a cage. I've had the System officially remove your regenerative status. From this moment forward, you are mortal. You'll catch colds. You'll get hangovers. And one day, your heart will simply stop."
Ardyn took the device, watching the glow fade into his palm. He closed his eyes, let out a long, slow breath, and for the first time in two thousand years, he looked truly at peace.
"Thank you, Theodore,"
Ardyn whispered.
"The greatest gift you've given me isn't this city, or the wine, or the job. It's the end of the road. I can finally see the finish line."
That night, back at the mansion, Theodore sat at his terminal, preparing for the next run. He was looking at the 40 Free Stat Points and the 4 perks he was about to unlock.
Suddenly, a text box flickered to life on his private HUD. It wasn't a standard notification; it was the System's "Personality" sub-routine.
[System Remark: Logic Analysis Complete]
[Message:] "User Theodore Mayer. I have processed the recent additions to the Residential Sector. You have successfully integrated a Vampire Matriarch, and an Elden Goddess into your household.
Analysis: You are currently housing three of the most powerful and dangerous women in the Multiverse.
Yet, I note a statistical anomaly: You have not attempted to 'romance' or bring any of them into your personal quarters as 'wives' or 'consorts.'
Remark: Most 'Gamers' with your stats would have turned this mansion into a harem by now. Your lack of libido is... logically confusing, yet highly efficient for mission success. Or perhaps you are simply terrified of Lady Dimitrescu? I would be.
Theodore snorted, shaking his head as he closed the window.
"I'm just busy, you snarky piece of hardware. I've got a world to save and 40 points to spend."
He looked at the free stats one last time before the reset.
"Forty points. Four perks. Which game should I play next?"
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