"Kiara, are you confident you can win public opinion and become prime minister?"Kiara opened her eyes to see her father watching her.
She was young and striking—long black hair, blue eyes—but the fierceness in her gaze was what set her apart. She rose and took her crippled father's hand in both of hers, voice steady and warm. "Don't worry, Father. I will win. I will remove him from office and show the people his true face. I will make him pay."
Her father, Gaul, had been a politician who opposed Idom—and lost. Idom had crushed him politically, left him crippled, and seized most of his wealth. Now Gaul's daughter stood against the same man.
The war was over. Martial law had been lifted. Elections, delayed for months, were finally set. Despite the unrest, Idom's standing was fragile; he'd beaten the rebels, but the cost had damaged him. Gaul still doubted Kiara's chances.
"Idom does not play by the rules," Gaul warned. "He loves the nation, yes—but he makes it less democratic. He might use unfair methods to hold power."
"I know," Kiara said. "I won't stop until he's gone." Her voice was iron. She still saw, in flashes, the day her father had been crippled—her mother's hands trembling, the helplessness in their eyes. The memory burned into her like coal. If revenge could sharpen her chance, she would let it.
Gaul wheeled himself toward the door. "Be careful. Think through every step. Your choices will have consequences—direct and indirect." He left, the wheel of his chair whispering against the floor.
Kiara closed the door and exhaled. "System," she whispered.
A black interface blossomed before her, words coalescing in cold, precise type.
THE SYSTEM CAN HELP THE HOST ACHIEVE WHAT THE HOST DESIRES.THE ONLY CONDITION: THE HOST MUST SERVE THE SYSTEM'S CREATOR AFTER FULFILLING THREE WISHES.
Kiara's pulse quickened. "So… I can make any three wishes, and you will help me achieve them?"
YES.
"And what does 'serve the creator' mean? Who is this creator?"
YOU WILL SERVE THE CREATOR OF THE SYSTEM. DO NOT FEAR. MY CREATOR IS BENIGN. YOU WILL ONLY BE ASKED TO DO THINGS WITHIN YOUR ETHICAL BOUNDS.
Kiara hesitated. The promise that the creator was "benign" sounded oddly reassuring, but she knew promises were cheap. Could she trust this thing? Still—what if she refused and lost her only chance?
"System, tell me the truth. What are my chances of defeating Idom without you?"
0 %.
Kiara's eyes narrowed. "Zero? That can't be right. His approval is at an all-time low. Many people support me. Even if he cheats, I can still win."
A VERY POWERFUL PATRON SUPPORTS YOUR OPPONENT. WITHOUT HELP, YOU CANNOT DEFEAT HIM.
Kiara felt the room tilt. She had to decide in a heartbeat. If she walked away now, she might never get another shot. The system's offer could be the only way.
"How can I trust your promise that the creator won't ask for anything I can't accept?" she demanded.
The system anticipated her doubt. A sheet of paper shimmered into being midair, bathed in a gentle, otherworldly light. On it was a contract—plain, binding, and written in a hand that seemed older than ink.
DIVINE AGREEMENT: IF ANY PARTY VIOLATES THESE TERMS, HEAVEN SHALL PUNISH THEM BY COMPLETE ANNIHILATION.
Kiara stared at the glowing text, then nodded before fear could root itself. "I accept."
The paper flared once and vanished.
WHAT IS YOUR FIRST WISH, HOST?
Kiara breathed, then spoke the only thing that would do both: revenge and political ruin. "Make Idom lose everything he has."
The projection blinked out.