In the Blizzard world, the order of the magical beasts was statute -
Bronze,
Silver,
Gold,
Diamond,
Platinum,
Titanium,
Epíc,
Legendary.
Each class showed up through the summoning circle:
white for Bronze,
red for Silver,
orange for Gold,
yellow for Diamond,
green for Platinum,
blue for Titanium,
purple for Epic,
and gold, bright sacred gold, for Legendary.
In the kingdom of Primacia, only one Beast Tamer had ever placed a Gold circle, and his name was Alvin Dalmenton, Rivera's father. His accomplishment was talked about in awe, fear, and the kind of envy that kept princes up at night.
So, as the colors in Rivera's conjuring circle started changing from blue to gold to crimson, the entire living body inside the Dalmenton estate came to a halt.
Crimson?
Such a shade wasn't available on the chart.
It never had a recorded, whispered, or even dreamed of.
Even Alvin's calm features wavered. His eyes narrowed, plotting the mad trajectory of the light. "Crimson?"
Whispers fluttered among the aristocrats. "Is that...a new tier?" A voice whispered in horror. "I have never seen it before."
The pulse quickened and brightened until it engulfed the grounds for the summoning in a crimson flash. And then,
BOOM.
The shock wave ripped the dust from the rafters. Then for an instant, nothing existed except the smoke.
And then, after the air cleared, every single person expected the same thing: fangs, claws, wings, the coming of a monster fit for myth.
Instead, silence.
The smoke thinned, revealing nothing. The glow of the circle waned to a faint shimmer.
And then came the squeak.
"Down...down there." Somebody shouted.
All eyes dropped.
And there, calmly resting within the summoning circle, was a small snow-white rabbit. Its fur was softer than the finest silk, and its green eyes shone like jewels, vaguely human in their perplexity.
Not scary. Not Godlike. Merely cute.
Dangerously cute.
A long, awkward silence ensued, during which nobody said a word. The tension melted into something ridiculous.
Ethan blinked once. Then twice.
Where am I? he thought dazed. And why are there giants watching me?
He attempted to speak, to ask what kind of bug this was, but the only thing that came out was an embarrassing squeak.
Fuck what was that?
He froze. Wait...Did I actually...?
He looked down. No hands, no legs.
Nothing but fuzzy paws. Small, shaky, snow-white paws.
What the...? No, seriously, WHAT THE HELL!
He lept backward in sheer fright, but his new body betrayed him, and his feet slipped on the marble floor, sending him tumbling off-center into the side of the glowing circle.
Another squeak. Another humiliation.
Up above, Rivera gazed, her mouth agape. "It's... a rabbit," she breathed.
Her brother, Fleming, rubbed his temple as if struggling to understand an off joke. "A crimson-tier circle resulted in this?"
Even Alvin held his tongue. His eyes narrowed as he watched the harmless creature hop about in confused circles. "Impossible." he muttered.
Meanwhile, Ethan's mind went:
Okay, okay, stay calm. Maybe it's a dream. Maybe I fell asleep wearing the VR again.
He turned his head, and froze.
The crest chiseled into the marble floor, the dual dragon sigil of the House of Dalmenton, glared back at him.
His blood ran cold, or at least as cold as rabbit blood could run. No freakin' way! I'm inside Blizzard!
He wanted to yell, "HOW THE HELL DID I END UP HERE!"
Another squeak.
The sea of faces melted at the sound.
"Aww.," breathed a voice. "
Adorable. A single word struck harder than any blade.
No, don't you dare 'aww' me! I'm the best player in this game! I've defeated dragons, tamed beasts, and now I'm...
He gazed at his reflection in the polished stone floor.
Large ears. Round eyes. A cotton-ball tail.
- A mere plush toy.
He wanted to cry. Or bite someone. Or both.
Rivera's face above him showed a twisting of disbelief and despair. She had invested years of training, prayer, and hopes for this one moment. The circle around her had flashed gold for a split second. And yet, right in front of her, it was a magical beast who couldn't scratch a fly, let alone a wolf.
Fleming leaned in close to his father. "That's... Bronze Tier." he said softly.
Alvin remained silent. His jaw clenched.
Then came the soft voice from behind them, shaking yet sweet.
"Alvin… what's...that?"
A blonde, brown-eyed woman emerged from the shadows, Rose Dalmenton, Rivera's mother. Her eyes traveled from her daughter's pale skin to the small thing shaking in the circle below.
"Why is her summon...like that?"
He breathed slowly, never taking his eyes off the rabbit. "I don't know."
He wasn't fibbing. The readings the circle was getting couldn't be correct; the energy pattern was unknown, irregular. Whatever that crimson flash was, it wasn't normal.
Rivera's knees wobbled in weakness. "Father...I...I failed, didn't I?"
Fleming struggled to say something, but he couldn't bring himself to speak. There was nothing to be sugar-coated about the fact that the Bronze Tier summon meant her ability was crippled from the start.
The nobles started whispering among themselves, the snobbish bite of words slithering through the air.
'A rabbit? After a crimson reaction?
"How could the daughter of Alvin Dalmenton have a bronze-tier magic beast."
"Maybe the girl's a bad Beast Tamer."
Rivera bit her lip, eyes stinging.
Ethan was still hopping around in confused circles below. Alright, let me figure his out. Where's the log-out? Get the system menu open! Log out! For God's sake! Nothing.
No interface. No voice. No familiar sound effect. Oh, come on! He stomped his impossibly small foot, well, as much as a rabbit could stomp, and another squeak escaped him.
The bystanders melted again. Rose laced her hands together. "It's. kinda cute." Alvin's glare quieted her.
He moved a step forward, examining the after-glow still radiating from the runes. A shimmer disturbed the surfaces of the circle, a faint dust, purplish in color, very hard to notice without training.
He frowned.
The purple mana residue was not normal. It thrummed like diseased static, tendrils of distortion lacing the conjuration glyphs. His voice fell, turning ominous.
"Somebody's messed around with the circle."