The floating fireball didn't explode so much as it just gave up trying to stay small.
One second it was a pulsing purple-pink orb, the next it bloomed into light and this weird sweet smoke that smelled like burnt cotton candy mixed with something metallic, like licking a battery.
Lucien blinked hard, eyes watering from the sudden brightness that wasn't painful, just annoying in that way bright phone screens are at 3 a.m.
When the glow settled, there she was.
A girl who looked maybe sixteen, give or take the whole primordial thing.
Fluffy fox ears twitched on top of her head, silver-pink hair spilling down to her waist like someone had spilled starlight and decided not to clean it up.
A thick tail swished behind her, brushing the straw on the floor and kicking up tiny sparks that died before they hit anything.
Golden eyes locked on him, pupils slit like a cat's when it spots something worth pouncing.
Tiny fangs peeked when she smiled, sharp but cute enough to disarm you right before the bite.
"Nyx," she said, voice light and syrupy, curling straight into his ears like it belonged there.
"Primordial Fox at your service. First official wife, okay?"
Lucien stood there in the middle of the crappy shack, new body still feeling borrowed, and let out a short breath that was half laugh, half choke.
The words just hung between them like someone had dropped a grenade and walked away whistling.
First wife?
He'd been awake in this world for what, ten minutes tops, and already someone was filing paperwork.
"First wife?" he echoed, voice coming out rougher than he expected, still carrying that São Paulo edge even if the accent had smoothed itself out.
"Kid, I barely opened my eyes in this skinny-ass body and you're already shopping for rings? Slow down before I file for divorce on grounds of emotional whiplash."
Nyx didn't get offended.
She laughed instead, bright and quick, then hopped onto the straw mattress without asking.
The bed creaked under her light weight.
She crawled closer on all fours, nose cold as she pressed it right against the side of his neck, sniffing like she was checking expiration dates.
Her tail curled around his calf, soft fur brushing skin through the thin pants and sending this weird little shiver up his spine that had nothing to do with cold.
"The Primordial Bond is already humming," she murmured against his throat, breath warm now.
"I smelled your greed through the old seals. It's loud. Tasty. You're mine, Master. Been waiting billions of years for someone whose want tasted this honest."
Lucien swallowed.
Her closeness made the air feel thicker, like the shack had shrunk two sizes.
He could smell her too now—something between wild berries left too long in the sun and ozone after a storm.
Not bad.
Actually kind of addictive in a way that made his new greedy bloodline perk up and pay attention.
He tried to play it cool, the way he always did back when comments sections got toxic.
"Look, Nyx. Cute act, really. Ten out of ten on the waifu entrance. But I just died under a truck chasing a book. Give a guy a minute to process before you start calling dibs on the wedding night."
She pulled back just enough to look at him, ears flicking once.
That smile didn't fade.
If anything it got sharper.
"Process all you want. The bond doesn't care about minutes. It sings when it finds the right greed. Yours is loud enough to wake dead gods."
One small hand reached up, claws retracted, and poked his chest right where his heart was doing its best to pretend it wasn't racing.
"Feel that? That's me already inside the edges of you."
Before he could fire back with something sarcastic about personal space, Nyx raised her other hand.
Purple flames flickered to life above her palm, twisting lazy circles in the air without heat, without smoke, just pretty dancing light that made the cracked wooden walls look less depressing for a second.
They smelled faintly sweet, like the smoke from earlier but cleaner.
Lucien felt the itch in his eyes before he even decided to use it.
The Devourer's Gaze kicked in on its own, analyzing, copying, the Greed Bloodline already whispering mine, multiply, take more.
He copied the flames without thinking.
His own version flared up bigger, brighter, the purple bleeding into hot pink at the edges.
They spun faster, feeding off each other until the little shack glowed like a cheap rave.
Nyx's golden eyes went wide, ears shooting straight up.
Her tail puffed out.
"You… you're already stealing my fire? Just like that?"
She sounded more impressed than mad, a little breathless laugh slipping out.
"What a cheeky bastard. Most hosts take days to even notice they can copy. You're eating it and seasoning it with your own greed on the first try."
"Guilty," Lucien said, letting the flames wink out.
His fingers tingled where the power had sat.
Felt good.
Too good.
Like the first hit of something you know you shouldn't chase but definitely will.
"Blame the bloodline. It doesn't do polite waiting. Sees something shiny, wants it yesterday, and then wants ten times more tomorrow."
She flopped back on the mattress, stretching like a cat in a sunbeam, tail thumping once against his thigh.
"Good. I like that. The old seals kept me locked away because the last carriers were too scared of wanting. You? You want everything. I can taste it on the air."
Lucien rubbed the back of his neck, trying to ignore how comfortable she looked claiming half his bed.
The shack smelled stronger now—old straw, her sweet-smoky scent, and underneath it all the faint rot of damp wood that had seen better decades.
Outside, the village sounds drifted in: someone hammering something metal, a woman yelling at kids to stay out of the mud, the low grumble of men talking about bad crops again.
Eldoria.
That name floated up from somewhere in the knowledge dump the system had shoved into his head earlier.
Forgotten little village in the Mortal Realm of Valoria.
Bad harvests, heavy taxes from some baron who probably never set foot here, and the usual pack of arrogant young masters who liked kicking down doors when the mood struck.
"Tell me about this place," he said, sitting on the edge of the bed.
His leg brushed hers and she didn't move away.
"Eldoria. Valoria. The whole mortal kingdom setup. I got the cheat sheet but hearing it from someone who wasn't born five minutes ago helps."
Nyx rolled onto her side, propping her head on one hand.
Her ears twitched as she listened to the village noise for a second.
"Small. Poor. The baron squeezes them for grain and coin they don't have. Young masters from richer families ride through sometimes, take what they want—food, girls, anything that looks easy. No one fights back much. They're all level ten at best around here. You? With those ten rewards sitting in your chest, you could sneeze and level the whole village if you felt like it."
She said it casually, like commenting on the weather.
Lucien felt the greed stir again, not angry, just curious.
Calculating already.
First target: whatever hidden stash the village had.
Then the baron's collectors when they showed up.
Build slow at first, test the pocket universe, stack multipliers.
"Sounds like a classic starter zone," he muttered, more to himself.
"Full of loot with legs and idiots who think being born with a silver spoon makes them untouchable."
Nyx giggled, the sound light but with an edge.
"Exactly. And I get to watch you take it all. My job is staying close. Evolving with you. Warming your bed when you let me."
She scooted closer again, tail wrapping around his leg a little tighter, soft fur warm through the fabric.
Her nose brushed his shoulder this time.
"The Pocket Universe is calling. Time runs crazy fast in there. One day out here is almost three years inside. Mana so pure it makes your bones sing. We could train, test your new toys, see how much I grow when I'm feeding off your greed."
Lucien stared at the empty air where the system panel had been.
He could feel the portal waiting, like a door only he had the key to.
Just thinking about it made the air in front of him ripple faintly, a shimmer that smelled clean and endless, nothing like the damp rot of the shack.
He stood up.
Nyx followed without being asked, pressing against his side like she'd been glued there for years instead of minutes.
Her hand slipped into his, small and warm, claws retracted but ready.
"Alright," he said, voice low.
"Let's see this cheat room of mine. But if it's just a fancy white void with motivational posters, I'm sending it back."
The portal opened easy, a tear in space that unfolded like cheap origami.
Air that poured out smelled pure—mana so thick it coated his tongue like cold spring water after a hangover.
Infinite.
Clean.
The kind of place where you could grind forever and never get tired.
Lucien stepped forward, Nyx right beside him, her tail swishing excited loops.
But before his foot crossed the threshold, voices cut through the shack wall from outside.
Angry.
Loud.
The kind of voices that practiced being assholes in the mirror.
"The weak villager finally woke up? Today that lazy bum pays what he owes!"
Boots stomped closer.
Someone kicked a rock that clattered against the door.
Another voice laughed, mean and wet.
"Baron's man said double this month. If he cries, we take the girl next door instead. She looks softer."
Lucien paused halfway through the portal, one foot in infinite clean mana, the other still in the stink of reality.
Nyx's ears flattened, a low growl starting in her throat that vibrated against his arm.
He looked at her, then back at the door that was about to get kicked in.
A slow, crooked smile pulled at his lips.
"Change of plans," he said quietly.
"First lesson starts right here."