Maria's life was a relentless cycle of misery and suffering. She had never known real love—not from her parents, her friends, or even her master, Michael. Love was just a distant concept, something she had only ever heard about, and never truly felt.
For as long as she could remember, Maria had been a refugee, constantly on the move to escape a civil war she barely understood. She had no place to call home, no sense of stability. At the age of ten, her life took an even darker turn. Unable to shoulder the responsibility of caring for her, her parents made the heartbreaking choice to sell her to a slave merchant. Five years later, she was purchased by Michael.
At the tender age of fifteen, Maria knew nothing of love, family, or what it meant to be cared for. She'd heard stories from other slaves about family and warmth, tales that sounded like pure fantasy.
When Michael bought her, she clung to the belief that he might love her, even if in a twisted, controlling way. Her need for belonging overpowered her judgment, and soon enough, she was carrying his child. Her son, Tom, was born, and a year later, Jack followed.
Maria had hoped that perhaps with children, she would finally experience the love she had always yearned for, and maybe even from Michael. Instead, she found herself raising her children alone in an environment of fear and oppression, her only solace the small moments of connection she shared with Tom and Jack, the first hints of real love she'd ever known.
She'd known love before—or at least, thought she had. She once loved Michael deeply, but as she held her sons for the first time, her heart swelled in ways she hadn't thought possible. It was as if these two small beings had taken every ounce of love she'd ever felt and multiplied it, creating a bond so profound and pure that it left her breathless. Their tiny hands clutching her fingers, their bright eyes gazing up at her with complete trust—it was as though they'd reached directly into her soul.
Maria found joy in the smallest moments. She would watch Tom try to imitate Jack's clumsy dance moves, the two of them laughing and stumbling as they spun around the creaky floor. Sometimes, they would all gather on the worn-out mat in front of the fire, where Maria would tell them stories, her voice soft and warm, weaving tales that made their eyes sparkle with wonder. They would lean against her, snuggling close, their heads resting on her shoulders as they drifted off to sleep. In those moments, every hardship, every ounce of struggle, faded away.
But the magic of those moments always shattered when Michael was around. She'd come to realize that he had never loved her, nor their children. He treated them with disdain, lashing out at Tom and Jack for the smallest reasons. And if Maria tried to protect them, he would turn his rage on her, striking her down and beating her to an inch of her life. She was bound to him, a slave without rights, with no one to turn to. Her only option had been to endure in silence, but deep within her, resentment was building. The disgust she felt for Michael grew stronger each day, as she struggled to witness her precious children subjected to his senseless violence.
Then, one fateful day, news arrived that changed everything. An edict from the king declared slavery abolished. Not only were former slaves now free, but they would be compensated for their years of suffering. For Maria, it was a dream come true—the best news she had ever received. At last, she could take her sons and leave Michael behind, breaking free from the nightmare that had once trapped her.
With Tom and Jack by her side, she walked away from the life of fear and oppression. Now, she was free—truly free—to build a new life with her children, one filled with the love and peace they had always deserved.
But everything she cherished was torn from her. Her two sons—her very heart and soul—were killed right before her eyes. In that moment, Maria felt her world shatter; it was as if the very purpose of her existence had vanished. Resentment, confusion, self-loathing, and an unbearable grief surged within her, each emotion crashing over her like relentless waves, suffocating her all at once.
Alonso stepped into Maria's hut, the door left ajar, his gaze falling on her kneeling form. She was surrounded by a small, haunting collection: Tom's worn toy, Jack's miniature wooden sword, and neatly folded clothes. Each item lay like a painful reminder of lives taken too soon.
He approached silently, placing a hand on her shoulder, his own expression heavy with pity and regret. Maria sensed him, though she didn't look up. Instead, her eyes remained fixed on the objects before her. Her voice broke the silence, fragile and trembling.
"Tom's favorite toy…" she murmured, a sad, distant smile flickering and fading. "He'd play with it all day, you know… I'd have to scold him to stop. And Jack… he always used that little sword, pretending to be a knight." Her voice wavered, and her gaze lingered on the tiny wooden sword. "All he wanted was to protect… to be strong."
She stared at her sons' things, an unbearable longing filling her eyes. Then, her expression crumpled as she let out a shuddering breath. "But I can't… I can't even touch them." Her voice cracked, frustration and sorrow twisting together. "I can't… hold anything of theirs, Alonso… I can't even hold onto what's left of them." She bowed her head, her body trembling with silent, furious grief.
Unable to hold back any longer, she broke down, a raw cry tearing through her as sobs wracked her. Alonso gripped her shoulder harder, his own heart heavy, wishing he could bear even a fragment of her pain. But he remained silent, knowing words would fall short, as Maria wept for the sons she would never touch again.
Maria's voice trembled, her grief pouring out in broken words. "My whole life… nothing but suffering. I've never had anything good… except my children. They were everything, Alonso… everything." Her voice cracked, and then, with a shuddering gasp, she burst into tears. "It should have been me. Why not me? Why did it have to be them? Why… why?" She broke down, her shoulders shaking with every sob.
Without a word, Alonso grabbed her by the shoulders and turned her to face him. He knelt, bringing himself down to her eye level, his face inches from hers, his expression fierce yet steady. "Maria," he said firmly, his tone sharp, cutting through her anguish. "Don't you dare blame yourself. There was nothing you could do. In this world, the strong prey on the weak. And if you stay weak, this suffering will never end."
Maria's tear-streaked face twisted in fury. "Shut up!" she shouted, her voice thick with anguish and rage. "Don't you dare lecture me! You don't know what it's like—you don't know my life, the way I've been crushed and treated like nothing. You've never been a slave, never been powerless." She looked away, clenching her jaw, her voice breaking with bitterness. "What could I have done, huh? I'm not some hero with powers, Alonso. I'm… I was born less than a commoner , a nobody with no home to return to.... I had nothing how could I have protected them."
Alonso's gaze softened, but his resolve remained unwavering. "But… what if there was something you could do?" he said slowly, watching her carefully.
Maria looked at him, confusion mingling with the sorrow in her eyes. "What are you talking about?"
Alonso took a breath, his voice low and steady. "What if give you the power to change? The power to never be weak again. No one would ever be able to touch you, control you, or take away what's precious to you. You'd have the power to decide your own fate."
She stared at him, disbelief and confusion painted across her face. She looked utterly lost, not daring to hope. "Alonso… I don't understand. How…?"
He looked deadly serious, his voice turning softer. "I'm sorry, Maria. I know I'm not good at… comforting others. But in this twisted world, those without power are the ones who suffer most. I'm offering you a choice… a chance to change everything."
With a flick of his wrist, Alonso pulled out a radiant feather—the Feather of Nymira. It glowed in his hand, shimmering with all seven colors of the rainbow, casting a soft, ethereal light across the room. Maria's eyes widened, mesmerized, her breath catching at the sight.
"Take this," Alonso whispered, his gaze intense. change your destiny"
Maria stared at the Feather of Nymira, her brow furrowed in confusion. The object glowed in her vision, casting an otherworldly light that danced across her face. She felt a strange, almost magnetic pull from the feather—a pulse of energy, ancient and alive. A hesitant thought crossed her mind, "What do I have left to lose?" With a trembling breath, she leaned forward, grasping the feather between her teeth.
The moment she made contact, the feather responded to her will. Its glow intensified, radiating a blinding, rainbow-hued light that swallowed Maria whole, wrapping her in a swirling cocoon of vibrant colors. Alonso's eyes gleamed with anticipation, his gaze fixated on the spectacle unfolding before him. "Show me!" he shouted, his voice a mix of challenge and hope. "Show me your resolve!"
Inside Maria's consciousness, she felt herself plummeting—spiraling down an endless, dark chasm. The sensation was surreal, as though she were falling through the very depths of her soul. Shadows blurred past her, shifting and twisting into vague forms until she noticed something unusual. It was as though layers of history were unraveling before her, images flashing by—of creatures, powerful and ancient, each with unique, imposing energies. They seemed like ghostly reflections of every living being that had ever existed, each lineage offering its power for her to choose.
Then, her descent slowed, and her gaze fell upon a single figure standing in the darkness. It was a creature of pure energy, radiating a soft violet glow. Its form was alien yet beautiful, and a strange familiarity washed over Maria as she looked into its luminous eyes. It was as if, somehow, this being understood her pain, her rage, her grief.
Without a second thought, Maria reached out with her mind, a silent acknowledgment of her desire. In an instant, the violet being surged toward her, dissolving into a brilliant, radiant light as it entered her body, merging with her essence.
Outside, Alonso watched as the rainbow cocoon pulsed and began to shift, each color intensifying and blending until it radiated with a piercing violet glow. He took a step back, his expression filled with awe and excitement. Oh ho... How fascinating he thought
As the purple light faded, Maria stood in her new form, radiating an aura of power and grace that was impossible to ignore. Her arms had returned, perfect and strong, as if sculpted from marble, and her once-fragile body was now imposing, standing confidently at 5'9". Her hair cascaded down to her ankles in waves of deep violet, shimmering with an ethereal glow, and her eyes had transformed—a striking shade of purple with irises shaped like stars, glowing with an inner light that seemed to pulse with her energy.
Maria raised her hands, staring in disbelief as she flexed her fingers, feeling the surge of strength coursing through her. She touched her face, her arms, running her hands over this new body as though inspecting a powerful weapon she had just acquired. She felt... complete. A warrior reborn.
Alonso watched her, a glimmer of awe in his usually stoic gaze. "How do you feel?" he asked quietly, though his voice carried a note of pride.
Maria's eyes flicked to him, and she spoke with a voice that was both hers and something more—a voice layered with strength. "I don't know. It's... overwhelming. I can see everything—energy flows, every pulse, every trace of mana. Even you... I see your insides, the currents of your mana, the machines woven into your body." She paused, the realization sinking in as a fierce light ignited in her eyes. "It feels... powerful."
Without warning, she unleashed her mana, and a torrent of brilliant purple energy erupted from her, blasting outward in a blinding flash. The sheer force blew apart her rundown hut in an instant, sending debris flying in every direction. Alonso, though braced, felt the sheer intensity push him back slightly. Around them, nearby buildings quivered, and dust kicked up in thick clouds as her power rippled out.
Maria's gaze was hard, her sadness tempered by a fierce determination. Flexing her mana, she could feel it swelling, growing, shaking the very ground beneath her. Her voice was low and dangerous. "I have so much power now," she murmured, almost to herself, feeling her energy surging around her in violent waves.
Alonso's eyes widened as he held up a hand, cautioning her. "Calm down, Maria. You're going to alert the guards. We're still in public."
But Maria barely heard him. Her voice was filled with anger and resolve as she demanded, "Where is Michael?" Her mana flared, intensifying as her fury burned hotter. "He'll pay for what he did."
Her power surged again, sending out another burst of energy that rattled the nearby buildings, drawing the curious eyes of onlookers as they peeked from doorways and windows, whispering in awe and fear. In that moment, Maria was a force to be reckoned with—a living storm, seething with strength and fury.
Alonso's system chimes with a soft ping, signaling the completion of a new transformation:
"Transformation to Arcadian: Successful."
Curious, Alonso frowns. "Arcadian? What race is that?"
In response, a holographic panel materializes before him, hovering in the air. Only Alonso can see it, its soft glow illuminating the details with an otherworldly light. Lines of information begin to scroll across the display as the system's smooth voice speaks again:
"Accessing Vardosian Archive… File 986: Arcadian."
Arcadian
Description: Arcadians are an enigmatic race, believed to descend from celestial beings and ancient arcane energies. They embody a unique harmony between magic and nature, existing as conduits of raw energy that flows between the material and spiritual realms.
Physical Traits: Arcadians possess a mystical aura with skin that glows faintly in natural light, and their eyes often reflect shades of violet or deep purple, like distant galaxies. Their hair has an ethereal quality, often appearing in shades resembling starlit skies or darkened amethyst.
Abilities: Arcadians can manipulate arcane energy, a potent, violet-hued force that lets them channel immense magical powers. This energy enables them to bend reality, enhance their senses, or create shields and weapons of pure arcane force. As masters of arcane magic, they can harness this energy to purify areas, heal others, or unleash devastating attacks. Their connection to arcane energy grants them the ability to see through illusions and detect hidden magic.
Culture: Arcadians live by a philosophy of balance, believing they are guardians of arcane knowledge and natural order. Their communities are often hidden within ancient forests, mystical groves, or atop mountains where arcane currents are strongest. They value wisdom and the responsible use of power, with a cultural focus on preserving the balance between realms.
Alonso wanted to delve deeper into the system's secrets, questions swirling in his mind, but he set them aside, focusing instead on Maria. Her aura still pulsed with raw, unforgiving energy—a fierce reminder of the betrayal she'd endured. He stepped forward, his gaze unwavering. "Come," he said softly, his voice gentle but firm, "I'll take you to them."
With just a thought, Alonso transported both of them away, the room dissolving in an instant. When they reappeared, they stood in the dim confines of his lab in the basement of the Virtual Reality Department. The cold, sterile air was thick with the scent of damp stone, and there, in the center, hung Michael and Simon, shackled and suspended like butchered meat. Chains looped tightly around their limbs, holding them in place, the metal biting into their wrists and ankles.
The dungeon was a grim place, built to hold even the most dangerous of criminals, and it was clear by their faces that Michael and Simon had felt every moment of their confinement. As Alonso and Maria stepped forward, Michael's eyes met hers, his face a mix of shock and anguish. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but words failed him; guilt twisted his expression into one of deep remorse.
Simon, however, looked at Maria with a different emotion—fear. He recoiled slightly, his face pale as he registered the change in her aura, a fierceness he hadn't seen before. His eyes darted away, shame clouding his gaze as regret settled heavily on his shoulders. They had both betrayed her trust, and standing here now, helpless and exposed, the weight of that betrayal seemed to crush them.
Even in her altered state, they knew her; they could see the woman they'd wronged beneath the powerful aura she now commanded. And now, faced with the silent rage that lingered in her eyes, their guilt was laid bare, undeniable, and all-consuming.
As soon as Maria's gaze fell upon Michael, her face twisted with an intense mix of disgust and hatred. Now as an Arcadian, Maria had an instinctual command over all forms of energy, especially mana, which pulsed through her with a newfound control. With a sharp flick of her wrist, she tapped into Michael's mana, seizing hold of it.
Michael's body jerked violently as she twisted the energy within him. His stomach ballooned grotesquely, his head snapped to one side, and his limbs bent in unnatural angles as Maria contorted his body from the inside out. His screams tore through the chamber, raw and desperate.
"Please, stop! It hurts... it hurts so much!" he sobbed, his voice cracking with agony. "I'm sorry! Please, Maria, I'm sorry!"
But Maria's eyes only narrowed. "Sorry?" she spat, her voice dripping with venom. "Were you sorry when you sold your own sons for a handful of coin?"
Her anger intensified, and Michael's body continued to twist, the pain escalating to unimaginable levels. His bones creaked and snapped, his skin stretched taut, and his eyes bulged with terror and suffering. Tears streaked down his face as he stammered, "D-don't forget who fed you... who took you in... where would you be without me?"
Those words ignited something dark and primal within Maria. Her entire body began to glow with a radiant, pulsing purple, an aura that intensified as her rage peaked. A surge of arcane energy exploded from her, seizing Michael's mana in a brutal vice. With a final, violent twist, his body imploded, bursting from the inside in a horrifying shower of blood and flesh.
Simon, who had watched in horror, flinched as pieces of Michael rained down, spattering him with blood. His face went pale, eyes wide with terror, and he cowered as he felt Maria's power crackle through the air. She barely seemed to notice him, her entire being thrumming with a purple light that radiated from her very soul, more potent and consuming than mere mana. The arcane energy surged wildly, the very room shaking as the Virtual Reality Department quaked under her unleashed fury.
With a calm wave of his hand, Alonso summoned a protective barrier, deflecting the blood before it reached him. But as the droplets touched Maria, they evaporated instantly, her glowing body absorbing the remnants as if they were nothing. She was an elemental storm, her power overflowing, arcane energy lashing out in chaotic waves, leaving destruction in its wake.
Maria's rage unleashed like a tempest, filling the room with waves of chaotic arcane energy that radiated out of her, burning the very air. Alonso staggered, forced back by the sheer power pouring from her, while Simon, chained and dangling, writhed in agony as the energy seared h