[So, Host Adam, spill the beans. What's the master plan?] Rosy's voice, soft and curious, drifted through the air, barely audible above the gentle hum of the apartment's ancient air conditioner. Adam, hunched over his cluttered desk, carefully wrote down what had happened in the last few days and what might happen in the future. The scent of stale coffee hung in the air, mingling with the faint aroma of old paper and ink. He wasn't using the Quill of Alzuhood this time, just a cheap ballpoint pen, its plastic casing worn smooth from years of use, since his Visionary Uniqueness let him remember everything perfectly.
"I've noticed the plot's been... weird lately," Adam said, his pen scratching against the paper. The sound was almost rhythmic, a counterpoint to the frantic thoughts swirling in his mind. "Like, not in a good way, you know? I don't like it. So, I want to make this story amazing, something nobody's ever seen before."
He smiled a little, a flicker of determination in his eyes, as he finished writing about the Battle for the Throne of Finality. The worn wooden surface of the desk felt cool beneath his fingertips.
"Oh, and I found another transmigrator," he went on, tapping the pen against his chin. "A girl named Nava. If I'm right, she has no clue about the plot."
Adam looked over at the Quill, resting on the edge of the desk. It suddenly turned into a tiny chibi version of itself with blonde hair and a cute blue blindfold. The transformation shimmered with a soft, ethereal light.
[Ugh, this form is so... ugh.] Rosy's tiny voice was muffled, as if she were speaking through cotton. [But yeah, I felt her too, Host Adam. That little girl, Nava, might actually become a Herrscher. Maybe she could even take Chen Tianwu's place for the Orb of Stars.]
"Even better," Adam said, his eyes lighting up with a spark of excitement. "If Nava gets strong enough, and Owl lives, I can make him a Stigmata of the Stars. We're gonna need him for the final fight."
[Ouch! Okay, I'm making this blindfold see-through.] Rosy bumped into the edge of the table, a tiny thump echoing in the small room. She rubbed her head with a miniature hand before looking back at Adam. [So, let me get this straight, you want little Owl to weaken the big boss, Kevin, right?]
"Exactly," Adam confirmed, a sly grin spreading across his face. "We both know Kevin's way stronger than he should be." He chuckled, leaning back in his creaky chair, already thinking about all the possibilities. The springs groaned in protest.
[Host Adam, you really think this is gonna work?] Rosy sounded a little worried, her brow furrowed in concern. Their plan was risky, a dangerous gamble, and Kevin might notice Adam messing with fate. The thought sent a shiver down her tiny spine.
Adam closed his eyes, picturing a big table in a room that looked a lot like St. Freya Academy. The air was thick with anticipation, the silence broken only by the distant sound of waves crashing against the shore. On the table were a few dolls: one with bright red hair, its expression fierce and determined, one short with white hair, its eyes cold and calculating, another taller with the same white hair, its posture radiating an air of quiet strength, and a fourth with purple hair, its face etched with a deep sorrow.
As Rosy watched, her blue eyes wide with fascination, Adam reached out, grasping invisible strings connected to each doll, smiling like he knew something they didn't. The air crackled with unseen energy.
"Maybe not," he said calmly, his voice barely a whisper. "But you can't underestimate Visionary Uniqueness. Even if it's not as strong as it could be, it can still change things. It's not like Lord of Mysteries, but it's still there. And hey, I can still see non-living stuff, right?"
Rosy tilted her head, her now-transparent blindfold showing her bright blue eyes. She chewed on her lower lip, considering his words.
[Yeah, you can. What a crazy gift he gave you.] She crossed her tiny arms, pretending to be annoyed, but she also looked impressed. A hint of pink dusted her cheeks.
As Adam kept moving the dolls, the atmosphere around him felt heavy, charged with an almost palpable tension. The purple-haired doll suddenly raised its hand, summoning thunder that echoed through the room, shaking the very foundations of the vision. It swung its blade, a katana shimmering with electric energy, sending lightning towards another doll—the one with pink hair and bright eyes.
The pink-haired doll quickly raised her hand, and a faint, shimmering glow appeared around her, like a heat haze on a summer day. The lightning slowed down, its power diminished by her not-so-great control over gravity.
Rosy, watching from the sidelines, was amazed. The dolls weren't just toys; they were like visions, showing real people being pulled into fate, their destinies hanging in the balance.
Inside Adam's vision, the pink-haired girl yelled desperately, her voice raw with emotion. "Mei! Stop it! Kiana still needs us—she still needs you!" Tears streamed down her face, blurring her vision.
She ran forward, grabbing the purple-haired girl's arm, her fingers digging into her flesh, holding her tight. The thunder and gravity faded away, leaving only their ragged breathing and the pounding of their hearts.
"Nava… stop being so naive," the purple-haired girl, Mei, said coldly, her voice devoid of warmth. But if you listened closely, you could hear the sadness, the pain, hidden beneath the surface. "Kiana will still try to sacrifice herself if I don't do this."
The pink-haired girl held on tighter, her knuckles white, looking heartbroken. Adam watched quietly, his eyes reflecting the chaos he had created—a version of destiny he was rewriting with every move.
The scene changed again, the transition abrupt and jarring.
This time, there were no fights, no lightning, no yelling—just one doll left. Nava's doll sat alone in the corner of a ruined school, surrounded by silence and dust. The air was thick with the smell of decay and broken dreams. The cracked walls and shattered windows told a story of destruction, of a world that had lost its peace, its innocence, long ago.
"Why? Why?" Nava sobbed, her small hands shaking as she held her knees. Her body trembled with suppressed emotion. "We promised to protect each other… so why are they trying to break that?"
Her tears fell on the cold, cracked ground, each drop echoing through the empty halls like a mournful dirge. She remembered all the times she had spent with Mei, Kiana, and Bronya—their laughter, their warmth, and Bronya's usual blank stare that somehow always made them smile. The memories were like shards of glass, piercing her heart.
Why did they have to suffer? Why did they have to go through so much pain again? It wasn't fair.
She had thought coming to this world would be a fresh start, a way to escape her sad life. But instead, it felt like she was stuck in the same cycle of suffering, doomed to repeat the same mistakes.
Adam watched silently from outside the vision, his face unreadable, his emotions carefully masked. The crying doll was exactly the kind of scene he wanted—one that would touch people's hearts, one that would make them feel something.
"A perfect story needs both happiness and sadness," he said softly, looking at Rosy. He smiled a little—calm, but like he knew something others didn't. A glint of steel flashed in his eyes.
He knew there was only an eighty-percent chance this would work, but that was enough. He had to make it happen. If he failed, none of them would be ready for what Kevin had planned. The stakes were too high to ignore.
Origin, Flamescion, Truth, Rimestar… they'll be ready for the finale once they pass my trials. They have to be.