Rogue stared at the glowing numbers for a moment longer, then let the phone slip from her hand onto the blanket. Six hundred million. The weight of it sat in her chest heavier than the fear had. It wasn't shock anymore—it was realization.
She dragged a hand through her hair and blew out a slow breath. "That's… more money than I'd ever know what to do with." Her tone wasn't wonder, not even greed—just disbelief curling into uneasy respect.
Blink didn't answer right away. Her gaze lingered on the Trader, who sat perfectly at ease in his conjured chair, crimson eyes reflecting the faint lamplight. The way he carried himself—the way the impossible seemed casual—made her skin prickle.
Finally, she murmured, "And he did it like it was nothing."
The room felt changed now. The fear that had held them taut was still there, but it had shifted. The panic had ebbed, leaving something colder behind: awareness. Whatever he was, he wasn't bluffing, and he wasn't bound by limits they understood.
Rogue adjusted the blanket around her shoulders, giving a humorless laugh. "Guess that proves he's real. At least about the free wish part."
Blink turned to her, voice lower, steadying. "Real, yes. But money's still normal… as normal as six hundred million dollar can be. But still if this is all he can do, then maybe he's just some kind of… freak genius hacker."
Rogue arched a brow. "You think six hundred million just appears out of nowhere without a trace?"
"Maybe," Blink shot back, though her doubt sounded thinner than her words. She looked again toward the Trader, searching his face for something—human, false, anything. But his expression was unreadable, calm, as if six hundred million was the smallest gesture in the world.
The silence stretched, heavy.
Then the Trader's voice slid smoothly into the space between them.
"So… what is your wish, Clarice?"
Blink stiffened, head snapping toward him. Hearing her real name in that calm, deliberate tone rooted her in place.
She hesitated, eyes flicking back to Rogue. For a heartbeat they simply held each other's gaze, neither speaking.
He was already watching her, crimson eyes locked on like he'd been waiting for this exact moment.
Blink's lips parted, then pressed shut again. She pulled a breath in through her nose, steadying herself. "I want something…" Her voice faltered, then she shook her head quickly. "No. Not like that."
Her fingers tightened in the blanket, knuckles pale. "Give me what fits me. What suits me the most. But it can't be normal—no money, no cars, no shiny toys. I don't want anything material." She lifted her chin a little, though her pulse was racing. "It should be supernatural. Magical. Something beyond all that."
The words hung there, heavier than she expected.
Rogue glanced at her sideways, brows raised, but didn't interrupt.
Across from them, the Trader leaned back in his conjured chair, one hand resting lightly on the grimoire.
Interesting, he thought, crimson eyes narrowing. Let's see what Wish decides for her.
His ability wasn't as straightforward as it was before. After Soulless altered it, now it had two faces.
The first—Original Mode. Brutal in its simplicity. No logic, no process. Just intention. Wish bulldozed reality into compliance, no matter the path it had to take.
The second—Refined Mode. Cleaner, precise, but demanding. It let him rewrite reality like an artist with a brush—but only if he understood the rules of the canvas. Physics, biology, energy, magic—he needed the knowledge to bend them. Even then it have limitations—life, death, time, fate and few more supreme laws— anything related to them was impossible for him. Those would only loosen once he reached godhood.
That was the balance. In Refined Mode, thought and knowledge guided everything. In Original Mode, only intent mattered.
Rogue's wish was a perfect example. She'd asked for money—the maximum he could give. He could've set a number himself. Instead, he let Wish choose, with just one condition: keep it "normal."
Six hundred million.
His lips twitched. 'If that's what counts as normal… I wonder what it would've given had I left it completely unchecked.'
Now he is very curious about what his wish power will decide for Blink. She hadn't asked for anything specific. She'd left it wide open, only marking the boundaries: no material things, nothing ordinary. She wants something 'supernatural' and 'magical'.
So without thinking much, the Trader snapped his fingers.
For a few seconds, nothing happened. The silence stretched. Rogue glanced at Blink, brows knitting, and Blink looked back just as uncertain. Their eyes darted to the Trader, half-expecting him to smirk or explain, but he only sat there calmly, watching.
Then, without warning, a glimmer of light shimmered into existence before Blink. It twisted into form—a small, metallic key—before gravity claimed it. The object began to fall, and Blink instinctively reached out.
The moment her fingers closed around it, her eyes fluttered shut as if forced. A rush of alien warmth flooded her chest, followed by a torrent of information.
For several long seconds she stood frozen, breathing shallow, caught in the flood.
Then, at last, Blink's eyes snapped open. Excitement and awe shimmered in them, her expression lit as if she had just glimpsed something impossible made real.
Rogue leaned forward, brow furrowing as she caught the look on Blink's face. "Well? Don't just sit there looking like you seen the second coming. What happened?"
Blink's fingers curled tighter around the key. She looked down at it, then back up at Rogue, then down again—like she didn't quite trust herself to speak. Her lips parted once, closed, then finally let out a shaky laugh.
"It's… it's a place," she whispered, almost to herself before the words grew steadier. "A whole place. Like—an actual world, sealed away. And the key's mine."
Rogue blinked. "A… world?" She leaned back, the word tasting ridiculous on her tongue. "What the hell you mean, world? Don't go talkin' crazy, Clarice."
"I'm not," Blink shot back quickly, though her voice still carried that tremor of disbelief. She pressed the key against her chest like it anchored her. "I can feel it. It's about a kilometer wide, and—God—it stretches up like two and a half kilometers high. There's grass, land, just… waiting. Empty. And I can go there, use it, store things, even live there if I wanted."
She spoke fast now, the awe spilling out of her in breathless waves. Her eyes glimmered like a child describing her first dream.
Rogue blinked at her, completely lost. "Okay, sugar, you're gonna have to run that by me again. A whole what now?"
Blink laughed under her breath, a nervous, giddy sound. "It sounds insane, I know, but it's real. I can feel it in here—" she tapped her temple lightly "—like it's part of me already."
Rogue raised both brows, lips parting. "So you're tellin' me there's some kinda invisible backyard waitin' on the other side of that key? And only you got the address?"
Before Blink could fumble for an answer, the Trader finally leaned forward, crimson eyes catching the lamplight.
"She's not mistaken," he said, calm as ever. "The key links her to a pocket of space outside this world. A private dimension. Small, by cosmic standards, but still a world all her own."
Rogue turned on him, incredulous. "You're serious. She just gets to carry around a secret universe in her pocket?"
"A universe?" His lips curved faintly. "Hardly. A fragment. One kilometer across, two and a half in height. Plain land, grass, nothing more—for now. But yes… it belongs to her."
Blink's breath caught, her hands curling tighter around the key. Even hearing him confirm it made her chest race.
Rogue just stared at her for a long moment, then gave a low whistle. "Well, damn. Six hundred million feels like pocket change now." She smirked, but her eyes betrayed the weight of what she was seeing—equal parts disbelief and envy. "You're sittin' here tellin' me you got yourself a freakin' Narnia in a box."
Blink let out a breathless laugh, shaking her head. "Yeah. Narnia… only real." She looked back down at the key, awe softening into something steadier, deeper.
Across from them, the Trader rested his chin lightly on one hand, watching their reactions. On the surface he looked calm, composed—like tossing out pocket dimensions was nothing new.
But inside, he was grinding his teeth.
Of course. Of course my Wish power hands her a shiny little world without a second thought. A kilometer across, two and a half high—just like that.
His fingers twitched faintly against his armrest. I can grant other people their wildest dreams… but when it comes to my own wishes? NOTHING.
The calm smile stayed fixed on his lips, but behind it there was a sharp edge of frustration. Blink got a personal dimension, small but still hers, and it was very safe and private. But what about me? I had to buy an island, work very hard to create wards for security and privacy. Even then, one of my clone had been busy creating the castle everyday.
Arhg!!! It too damn frustrating...
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CHAPTER:- [105- BLINKS DOMAIN] IS AVAILABLE ON MY P@TREON