The order of The Eternal Eight went like this from left to right: Azura, Merci, Cipher, Dante, Thalia, Logan, and Mei.
It was designed this way for a reason. Azura is first as a sign of being the leader. Everyone who follows is next in line for command and inherits the position above. The reason they are called Eternal Eight is for the simple fact that all powers are given and inherited. For example, If Dante died, and Thalia became fifth in command, then she would lose her powers and inherent Dantes.
This meant that nobody could ever get greedy or try to kill someone above them in order to take their position. In Mythos, it was actually impossible for an NPC to do that, but Surf did it purely to add lore.
Logan raised his head next, his cerulean eyes piercing outwards. Because of this, Surf cranked his head towards him. Eerily, his lips parted, saying, "Logan, I want you to go out and survey our surroundings. Find out the country we're in, as well as the current events going on."
"Understood, sir." Logan replied. He stood up and quietly left the room.
I can feel the throne's power. Surf thought. He also took note of how his system from the game was still with him. In the top left corner, it showed his HP and MP, and that he was max level. If I recall correctly… it should be able to regenerate both my HP and MP in an instant if ever needed.
He stroked his chin.
Cipher bore his eyes into Surf's, his hair parting above his forehead. He didn't say a word, but it was apparent the man was waiting for orders.
Despite that, Surf continued to think inwardly. There has to be a way to use my other characters. This one right now is my main, Surf. Its main class is Armsmaster. There's no weapon in Mythos I'm unable to use. Hmm. Without having to move his hands, he messed with the screen in front of him, so as to not draw weird attention. Clicking on the menu, he then went to characters.
They're all listed.
[Surf(Lvl.Max)(Main Class: Armsmaster)]
[Argon(Lvl.Max)(Main Class: Mage)]
[Soren(Lvl.Max)(Main Class: Magic Swordsman)]
[Michaelangelo(Lvl.Max)(Main Class: Dreamweaver)]
[Damien(Lvl.Max)(Main Class: Magic Engineer)]
[Zephyr(Lvl. Max)(Main Class: Necrotech)]
[GOAT(Lvl.Max)(Main Class: Chronomancer)]
Interesting. I'd have thought they'd be locked, but no, I can use them. If that's the case, he looked up at his subordinates, that must mean they know of my other characters. A lot of the lore I made seems to have made it over, so this shouldn't be any different. Surf groaned, nearly facepalming. This means I won't have to play the role of one person. I'll have to act out as seven all while not getting caught. After all, all my other characters are a part of The Veiled Order.
Realizing he'd been quiet for too long; he twisted his head back to the Eternal Eight. His mouth opened, giving a decree, "Azura, use Valkyrie's surveillance system and connect it with your mirror skill. Set it up in my room."
"Understood," she said.
Like a motion of pure unlimited power, Surf stood up from the throne. Its roof was high as he slightly moved one curtain to reveal his eyes. "From now on, continue your regular duties. Soon, big things will happen." He boomed.
The Eternal Eight and thousands of others once more almost cheered, but their respect for Surf was too high to interrupt him. They simply smiled, understanding their leader had everything under control.
It was quick, yet Surf felt more in control. Except now he needed some time by himself to think. So, bringing out the system, he thought to himself, I can teleport anywhere within Valkyrie. Clicking on 'my room' he instantly found himself standing in a new room.
The room was quite large yet had little to nothing inside it. An enormous black bed that had four pillars around it. Just like the throne, it had curtains. On the right side of the room, there was an opaque door. My closet. I wonder…
Walking to and opening the closest, a wide grin grew across his face. Digging inside, he picked up a red coat, "all the clothes I bought in the game are here too," he whispered, happily.
Hanging it back up, he walked to the bed and slouched his back onto it. Arms out, he sighed. Once more, he held the system in front of his eyes, glancing at all the characters he had made. I guess I should test it, huh?
Groaning, he sat back up. With the click of a button, he said, "Soren." A sudden white light filled a small area in the room in front of him. After the light subsided, a new man stood in the room. His hair was as cold as snow, trailing down his back. His eyebrows were the same color too, thin as ice above his chilly eyes. And he wore a robe, adorned with gold embroidery, hinting at both his regal status and dark affiliations. Beneath it, a white shirt clung to his lean frame, tucked into a crimson silk sash that cinched his waist, adorned with small golden charms that jingled softly with each step.
His fitted black pants and polished leather boots allowed for graceful movement, while gold bracelets and a heavy choker, inscribed with ancient runes, added an air of mystique to his appearance. His attire was a blend of elegance and menace, perfectly reflecting his complex nature.
For a moment, Surf was able to actually look at his own creation in front of him. He was partially excited, but suddenly, he noticed something weird. His heads began to ring as he realized he was operating two bodies at once, not looking only at Soren, but his body as Surf too.
Unintentionally, he fell to the ground with both bodies. He put his two sets of hands on his pair of heads. "Urgh!" He groaned. His vision started to wobble, and he felt like a ship tossed in a storm, his stomach churning uncontrollably.
And just as he felt like barfing, two different sensations filled him. One was freezing cold, stopping all the pain in his body as Soren. But for Surf, it was as if he had gotten wrapped in the perfect blanket, causing him to return to a calm state of mind.
As Surf, he glanced up at Soren, his new body following each and every move like a puppet. He twisted his head to the side, trying to understand what was happening.
"!" Quickly, he brought out the system. There was an option, 'transfer consciousness to one body?'
What'll happen to the other body? No, wait! I sent Logan to go check where we were. I doubt he's left just yet, though. Alright, then. Soren… I'll switch over as him.
Click!
In an instant, Surf now found himself as Soren. There was no weird whirlpool or anything like what he thought would happen. His breath was a ghost in the air, visible and fleeting in the frosty world.
He held his hands up. "I'm Soren," he nearly laughed. And in this body, his voice was less venomous. Instead, it almost held no emotion. It was indifferent.
Bringing out the system, he teleported.
The transport room.
"Soren?" Turning his head, he saw Logan. Inside the room looked similar to the layout of a prison. There were four see-through walls, which all held rooms roughly eight hundred feet all in all. People walk into the small chambers, then transport down to the ground.
"What're you doing here?" Logan asked.
Good. So they do know of my other characters.
Once again, it was like a filter was plastered on Soren's mouth. What he tried to say was ultimately not spoken correctly. "Are you really qualified to know?" He wondered.
"What? I'm a part of the Eternal Eight, you fucktard. Of course I'm qualified. Don't think just cause you're not tech– wait! If you're here, then are the rest of your idiotic friends here?"
"Idiotic? Quite ironic coming from a musclehead. I'm under no authority to tell you what you wish for."
"Don't think for one second I'll forget what you did to Merci."
Holy shit. The lore I created!
Soren cradled his neck. "You love to remind me of that, don't you? Perhaps you guys shouldn't have thrown the plan to shit, then we wouldn't have any problems." Walking right past him, he clicked a button on the wall. One of the walls started sliding upwards. It feels too harsh to speak like this. I'm not trying to be an asshole. But I can't speak normally.
"Are you coming or what?" Soren asked, now inside of the chamber.
Logan groaned, "Agh, whatever."
With the both of them in the chamber, the wall started to descend. Logan twisted his neck, standing roughly two heads above Soren, "you used to be a lot more tolerable."
Soren scoffed. "We both made a decision to not mend this distaste between us. You can't just all of a sudden think that can change."
"Who said I thought it could. I was merely stating a fact." Logan paused for a second, before emphasizing, "You used to be a good kid."
Soren locked eyes with Logan.
At this point, Surf felt like he was just a spectator. He had come to the realization and true understanding of something: These are real people. Their lives are far more complex than whatever lore I created.
"So where're you headed, kid?" Logan questioned, crossing his arms.
"..."
"You're right. I am a musclehead. But I'm not dumb. Neither of us have been here. I think Surf maybe has, but what matters is we haven't," Logan turned his body towards Soren, continuing, "We're both going out to survey. How about we do it together?"
Come on, Soren! Listen to me! Say what I want to say!
"Alright."
Immediately after saying that, Soren looked at the noise coming from above. There was a circle engraved into the roof, as well as directly below him. It had a picture frame, but the inside of the circle was simply the wall. However, a blinding light soon filled it, and shot out at him and Logan.
Then, just like when he switched bodies, he found himself somewhere new.
As they materialized, the first sensation was the crisp, smoky air of a new world. They stood on the outskirts of a 1920s-like city, where history and the future seemed to intertwine.
"So, this is a new planet, huh?" Logan chuckled.
Cobblestone streets stretched before them, flanked by tall, narrow buildings with dark brick facades and wrought iron balconies. Gas lamps lined the sidewalks, casting a warm glow that mingled with the early evening light. The distant sound of a jazz band played from an unseen speakeasy, adding a lively yet haunting melody to the air.
A trolley car clattered past, its bell ringing cheerfully, while pedestrians in flapper dresses and three-piece suits hurried along. Automobiles and horse-drawn carriages shared the roads, the mix of modern and old-world transport adding to the city's unique charm.
Beyond the immediate bustle, rolling hills dotted with oak and maple trees framed the city, their leaves rustling in the breeze. Smoke from distant factories mingled with the twilight clouds, blending industrial progress with natural beauty.
"The smell is a bit weird, but… it is stunning." Soren stated. And on the inside, Surf was screaming. I wasn't wrong, this is without a doubt Elysium. But christ, this warm weather is fucking with my nose.
Uncomfortably, Soren wiped his nose. In the corner of his eye, he saw Logan smirk, saying, "What, don't like the heat?"
Soren's eyes thinned in annoyance.
"Haha!" Logan laughed, poking fun at Soren as he continued, "Perhaps Surf should've sent Damien out here. I just know that kid would love this place."
"This argument is not worth my time, Logan. We'll split up."
"That's it?"
"..."
"Kahaha! I thought you had a plan, at least!" Logan cackled, wiping imaginary tears off his face. He even fell to his knees.
"So overdramatic." Soren groused.
I know the planet now. That's good. The lore I've created is also real and expanded upon. What does that mean for the world, though? If it is the same Elysium I know from the game, then that'd be perfect for me. He looked over at Logan who was now rolling over the grass. "Whatever, just get information." He stated, walking off on his own.