"I can't believe I'm considering eating this," I muttered.

  "Just try a small bite!" Nexxali encouraged. "It won't kill you. They are made for all species to enjoy, modded by an egghead Thunderbird!"

  "Not reassuring."

  "DOOM supports this experiment," Professor Doomsday intoned.

  I glanced at the gun villain.

  "DOOM will wait to see if you survive this first," he commented.

  I took the UwU half gingerly, trying not to think about its three legs or its eyes or the sounds it had been making a minute ago. It was warm in my hand, the exterior crispy from the heat.

  "Come on," Shady encouraged, prodding me with a claw.

  "Fine. One bite."

  I bit into the UwU.

  The texture was... Ordinary and easy to chew. Like a cross between steak and something starchier. I chewed slowly, waiting for some horrible alien flavor to assault my taste buds.

  Instead, I tasted... perfectly seasoned ribeye. And potatoes. Inexplicably, one after the other.

  "What the hell?" I said, taking another bite. "This tastes like steak and potatoes. How does it taste like two separate foods?"

  "Ah! That's the psycho-mimetic properties!" Kawathra fluttered.

  "The what now?"

  "UwUs have evolved and were further modified to taste like whatever the consumer's mind expects or desires most," the magpie explained. "It's an adaptive survival strategy for their species. Well, survival in the sense of perpetuating their life cycle, not individual survival."

  I paused mid-chew. "What?"

  "UwUs want to be eaten," Kawathra clarified. "Their entire reproductive cycle depends on it. When consumed, the microscopic egg-cores embedded in their flesh survive digestion. They pass through the digestive tract and—"

  "Please don't say what I think you're about to say."

  "—get flushed down the waste disposal system!" Kawathra continued, oblivious to my escalating discomfort. "The eggs then make their way through the Seeker’s recycling channels and into the dragonheart reactor core, where the thermal energy and Aetheric radiation cause them to bloom into new UwUs. It's a beautifully efficient symbiotic relationship!"

  I stared at the half-eaten UwU in my hand.

  "So you're telling me," I stated slowly, "that these damn things evolved to be eaten?"

  "Exactly!" Kawathra bobbed enthusiastically. "The Frontenachii Empire has been cultivating UwUs as a baseline food for a long time. They are a perfect sustainable fleet food source! Self-replenishing, adaptable flavor profile, and they serve a secondary function in reactor temperature regulation. Cheaper and more fun than printing food!"

  "TMI," I said flatly.

  Shady grinned. Nexxali snickered. "What, you don't want to think about the complete life cycle of your dinner?"

  "No. No, I do not."

  “Seems like you’re judging our food more than I’m judging your pickled eggs and bowtie pasta, Ashy,” the serval laughed.

  “Mmmm.” Shady munched on her own UwU half. "Adorable human squeamishness."

  "There is nothing natural about psychic flavor-changing toilet parasites," I protested, taking another bite. The damned UwU tasted unnecessarily delicious—now with a hint of garlic butter that definitely wasn't there a moment ago.

  I licked the UwU again. Now I could swear it tasted slightly like my grandmother's pot roast.

  "This is so weird."

  "Weird but delicious!" Shady pointed out. "See? I take good care of my Ashy. Making sure he's fed properly."

  I made a sour face. “Gee, thanks.”

  Arachnids Man piped up: "With great nutrition comes great... uh... digestive responsibility?"

  I rolled my eyes at his ridiculous quip and I finished the remainder of my UwU half. Even the fuzzy shell was delicious, tasting like freshly baked bread.

  "What’s with the face?" Shady grinned. "It's very consensual."

  "I don't think consent applies to organisms that exist solely to be consumed and born through waste systems."

  "DOOM finds your squeamishness... amusing," Professor Doomsday observed. "Surely the Emperor of Earth has witnessed stranger cycles of life?"

  "Haven’t left this planet yet,” I said. “Earth biology is weird, but it's not 'please eat me so I can be reborn in a magic reactor via your toilet' weird."

  Baba Yaga cackled. "Every creature serves purpose, da? UwU serves by being delicious. A noble calling!"

  "It's a parasitic life cycle dependent on spacefaring predators," I said.

  "Symbiotic," Kawathra insisted. "They provide nutrition, we provide transportation and incubation facilities. Everyone wins!"

  "Except the individual UwUs that get eaten."

  "They love getting eaten! It's basically, isekai reincarnation with extra steps and a brief toilet intermission." Shady laughed, swatting me with her tail.

  “I’m so done with this conversation,” I rubbed my face.

  -=[Aquillianne Quantivia Frontenachii]=-

  Princess Aquillianne Quantivia Frontenachii, or Shady as her family and friends dubbed her, sat in Corpse Seeker Kappa's command chamber, watching the sun paint the Pacific forest in shades of dying gold.

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  Her thoughts moved like water trying to remember the shape of ice, wiggled and tumbled in unexpected directions, escaping her grasp into everywhere and nowhere.

  Focus. Stay focused. What was I thinking about?

  She reached out with her mental hooks, finding the serval’s consciousness. Her Knight Maid’s mind was structured, organized, solid in ways Shady's fractured psyche could not manage alone. Through their connection, Shady borrowed that structure, used it to anchor herself to rigidity, clarity and understanding.

  Without Nexxali, Shady's thoughts scattered like dandelion seeds in wind. Circle thoughts. Square thoughts. Beep thoughts. They spiraled away from her, fragmenting into nonsense unless she actively pulled them all through the connection to her kitten's organized mind.

  Am I myself? she wondered, not for the first time today. Or am I an extension of Nexxali? Or perhaps is she an extension of me?

  The question didn't frighten her as much as it should have. A Wendigo Princess, taught from birth to be independent, supreme, filled with power from thousands of blood-bound kobolds—reduced to relying on a single serval's mind just to think in straight lines.

  Those kobolds were gone now. Severed, leaving her... diminished. Hollowed out.

  And so, so hungry.

  Not for food. Not for UwUs or any physical sustenance. She was hungry for magic. For the fear that powered her abilities, the terror that should flow from her kobolds to her fractal engine heart in an endless stream.

  This Earth's low, linear Aetheric density made everything worse. Like trying to breathe in a room with barely any air. Every psychic ability required ten times the effort it should, every hook she extended felt like pushing through mud.

  She suppressed the urge to terrorize everyone around her.

  She wanted more. Wanted to stalk, corner each person, threaten, break them all, watch their eyes widen with primal fear as her true nature manifested—

  No, she told herself firmly, filtering herself again through Nexxali's thought patterns. Bad Princess. Ashy doesn't like that. Nexy doesn't like that. Kawthy wouldn't like that. We're being good. We're being kind. Sweet. I can do this. I must do this.

  I must adapt! Dr. Greyfield taught me at Skyfall that every Omnid can adapt themselves to any world, it only takes persistent dedication and focus. Focus! I have to focus!

  "My Lady?" Kawathra's voice pulled Shady's focus out of her wobbly mind into the present. "Commander Sillicia's glider is approaching."

  Shady rose smoothly. Large, printed diamond-chains jingled across her antlers, neck and wrists. She looked every inch the royal heir she was supposed to be.

  Except I'm broken, she thought. So very broken and barely functional. Held together by cat thoughts and love.

  Through the Seeker's transparent sections and screens, she watched a personal glider descend to the roadside coordinates they'd provided. A figure dismounted—Commander Sillicia Frontenachii, black fur and antlers distinctive even from this distance.

  Sillicia sent the glider back with a gesture, then stood waiting, looking around the road, posture radiating nervous anticipation.

  Shady felt Nexxali's consciousness shift in her mind, helping organize her thoughts for the performance ahead. Remember the script. Stay in character. You're the brilliant Empress who's been guiding Earth for millennia. Confident. Powerful. In control!

  In control. Brilliant. Confident. Empress. Shady repeated mentally, clinging to the concept like a lifeline, pushing the barely cooperative soul-shard to the forefront of her mind like a shield held upright with Nexxali’s aid.

  Kappa surged forward, crystalline body flying out of the forest and making Sillicia flinch. The Corpse Seeker came to rest in front of the Wendigo Commander, and stairs unfolded from its side.

  Shady positioned herself at the top of the stairs, diamondust catching the dying sunlight, creating a rainbow halo around her. She extended her mental hooks carefully, gently probing the Commander's surface thoughts as Sillicia began to climb.

  Sillicia looked up at her, and Shady nearly gasped at what she saw.

  Sillicia's mind was... open. Vulnerably, desperately open. No defensive layers, no careful guards. Just raw, burning hope radiating forward.

  Please let her be from Omnithornia. Please let her follow the proper Omnid traditions. Please let this be real.

  The longing was so intense it made Shady's hooks ache. Sillicia hoped—no, prayed—that Shady would be a child of Omnithornia who believed in the old ways. In Omnids sharing a husband, cooperating as Prima and Hearth Keeper instead of the cruel hierarchies the Empress and her children cultivated over the planetary conquest campaigns.

  "Commander Sillicia," Shady said, keeping her voice warm and welcoming as the Wendigo reached the top of the stairs. "How wonderful to see you.”

  Sillicia bowed and smiled. "Princess Aquillianne. The honor is... I can't express—"

  "No need for formalities tonight, darling," Shady interrupted, gesturing to the Seeker's interior. "This will be a fun evening, not a tedious military briefing. Please, come in!"

  As Sillicia stepped inside, Shady's hooks automatically scanned the Commander more deeply. The Wendigo’s thoughts remained startlingly accessible.

  Inside Kappa's chamber, Ash stood in his Emperor regalia. Behind him, the three ‘minions’ waited, ready for the show.

  "Commander," Ash's modulated voice rumbled. "Welcome!”

  Shady saw that Sillicia's hooks immediately raked across Ash's mind. Within, Sillicia found… A fortress. A citadel, with Ash sitting upon a golden throne, staring down at her.

  “Sup, xenos?” the Emperor of Humanity asked.

  Sillicia pulled back, turning her skull-face at Shady. “Your Highness, your kobold Administrator is magnificent! The first human on this entire planet with such refined mental faculties!"

  "Yass. My Emperor is quite something, isn't he?" Shady said with pride, moving to stand beside Ash, tail possessively wrapping around the human. "I taught him myself."

  Shady gestured to the gun-persons. "You've met my retinue already. The leaders of Earth's hidden magical communities."

  Sillicia's hooks swept across Arachnids Man, Professor Doomsday, and Baba Yaga in quick succession. Her confusion deepened with each scan.

  Nothing. There's nothing there. Empty shells. But they speak, they move, they seem alive. How—

  "The magical leaders know how to fully conceal their presence and thoughts," Shady explained, reading Sillicia's bewilderment. "I taught them myself, guided the development of beings like them over millions of years of evolution. Complete psychic invisibility is the first defense against hostile entities!"

  "Millions of years?" Sillicia repeated. "How?! Unless I’m wrong you’re only twenty-two, my Lady?”

  “That I am,” Shady agreed.

  “Time travel?!” Sillicia asked. “What about Zero? The Archangel—"

  Shady pulled up a real memory—one that still made her fractal engine heart ache.

  The memory crystallized in the space between them, projected with the full emotional weight of lived experience.

  An Omnid laboratory, deep in the Corpse-God Citadel. Aunt Zexxia.

  The Elder Wendigo's eyes gleaming with malevolent intelligence. “Let me show you something special, spawnling. My greatest treasure. My key to every door.”

  She gestured, and a suitcase sitting on a table became transparent. Inside was something alive, wrong, inverted, its geometry twisted into itself dimensionally. The thing radiated absolute, pure madness, pain, existed in eternal, silent agony. It wasn’t human nor pradavarian. It was…

  "Meet my naughty boy, Mr. Koppernacht," Zexxia introduced lovingly, as if presenting a pet. "With enough torture, eons of experimental, conceptual inversion, a Mothman can open gates to worlds that should never be reached. Past the boundary of the Wormwood Star, past the ever-watchful gaze of Absolute Agents of Syntropy, past every impassable barrier the Numbers have erected."

  Young Shady stared.

  "Do you know what this means, my spawnling?" Zexxia whispered. "It means I can give you a gift no other Wendigo has ever received. Your own, delicious kobolds on a non-doomed world! An Earth packed with humans! As many meals as you can eat! On a... subscribed world, deep within the innards of Eureka Omnistructure."

  The memory faded, leaving Sillicia staring at Shady in horror.

  "Abyss! Your aunt..." Sillicia whispered, mouth open wide, "she gave you access to time travel? To a world outside the finite curve? The power to gradually guide the entire life cycle of a species?”