Veres laid still on the bed catatonically. It had been a while since Momonga left, but all sense of time was lost as she tried to cope with what had happened. At first, she tried to rationalize what was happening.
It was the launch of a new game, and their characters had been translated over.
The game was shut down, but they didn't log out properly and this was their mind coping with its disconnect from the real world.
No matter what scenario she thought up, each more outlandish than the last, they all seemed to fail.
Everything felt so real now, there was no way they were in a digital world. Like a heavy blanket had been pulled off, all the senses that normally got suppressed were now incredibly sharp. It was overloading. It wasn't the fact that everything felt real that was the most overwhelming though, it was that everything felt so right.
When she was in the throne room, her sense of smell had practically exploded. She had been able to smell the fragrance of perfume coming off the Guardian Overseer. It had been so sharp and clear, even when Albedo had to have been several meters away. When Momonga had gotten close to her she had smelt the slightest hint of a deep, musky flavor coming from him. It smelt like an earthly home, somewhere you can feel safe and relax after a long day, mixed with a stale, but sweet, fruity blend. She didn't know if it had been real, but she didn't quite care. It had been both intoxicating and had helped to calm her frantic mind.
She had tried to stand up in her panic, but everything was off balance. As Momonga had rushed to her side, she had instinctually leaned on him for support. When he had spoken to her it had sent an electric spark down her spine. His new voice had sounded so majestic and noble, like he was a dark knight there to defend her. So, she clung to the man who had done so much for her.
She had gripped onto his cloak with every ounce of strength, hoping to slowly rise with his aid, but it was like trying to turn a door nob with thick gloves. Just holding on had taken everything she had as she was overwhelmed by everything going on.
Escaping the expectant and focused gaze of the NPCs had brought new hope to her tattered psyche. When he had patently tried to help her stand, she could feel the sincerity in his actions. As she tried to stand, and failed, she felt like she was just learning to walk again. It felt like she was too weak and feeble to do anything for herself, and to have had Momonga see that made her feel pathetic.
But he hadn't cared about how worthless she was at that moment. He hadn't pitied her for the fact that she couldn't stand, he had instead let her try to stand on her own, only helping when she truly needed it.
He had humored her sarcastic banter and didn't let go of her. And when he had joked about claiming her as he set her on the bed her heart started to race, her body freezing as hope for such a future surged in her heart. To be thought of that way by him was the most joyful thing she had ever experienced, even if it was only meant jokingly between friends.
Momonga had always been there for her, he had even made staying in YGGDRASIL worth it. Even if he didn't know it, he had been one of the few to not pity her for her inabilities. He had instead made use of her skills, treating her like any other person.
When everyone else she knew or cared about had drifted away as she wallowed in self-pity, he had stayed, just treating her like normal. He had been what allowed her to pull herself back out of the hole she was in by staying at her side. And when he tried to leave, she hadn't wanted him to stay because she was scared, she wanted him to stay to be with her like he had been before.
But Momonga had left, and she wasn't delusional enough to imagine a trace of his fragrance or an echo of his voice when there was none. Her mind was once again cast asunder at the thought of the changes to her world. Eventually she just stopped thinking, too distraught and unstable to form a coherent thought. When her mind had finally decided to ignore the implications of all that was going on and her sanity started to return, her heightened senses slowly brought the world back in to focus.
She could feel the bed beneath her. With its clean, soft sheets and cloud like mattress, it was the most comfortable bed she had ever been on. As she focused her mind on the feeling of the bed, she took note of how it felt like there was a thin, form fitting under clothing over her entire body. It was like a thermal body glove, but that melded with her skin and didn't cling unnaturally to her body as it stretched and moved with her.
She eventually registered the sense of touch coming in from her limbs. Her limbs were too slender, her feet too small; it felt like someone had stretched and pulled her body out of the shape it was meant to be in. Eventually, she also realized that there was a sense of pressure coming from the base of her spine. It felt like it split into several strips before it went on much lower down than it should have.
'What… is this?'
It dawned on her that what she was feeling was her new body. She finally pieced together the events in the throne room and truly accepted that she was stuck in her avatar.
This terrified her. It wasn't that everything felt different, but that different felt so damn good. Her new body felt like putting on a change of fresh clothes after a long, hot day paired with putting on new shoes that fit just right after wearing the wrong size for so long you forgot what it felt like. To feel so comfortable in a body so vastly different scared her beyond words.
Finally, tentatively, she started to look down at her body. Her eyes traveled past a slender, long shape in front of her face that she realized was now her muzzle. Past the black nose at the tip of her snout, she got a good look at her arms as they wrapped around her legs. They were definitely inhuman. The bicep was much thinner and shorter than a human's, and the forearm was also very different. With a longer forearm before leading to a much less pronounced wrist, she wondered how it even worked.
'God, these are going to be so hard to use.' She thought after looking towards her now outstretched hands.
Her hands, more like paws, were also different. She luckily still had five digits, but they weren't something she thought would be usable. Her four 'fingers' were much stubbier, with thick pads on the inner side and ending in blunt claws that were much more likely to catch on something than a regular nail. Her thumb was also very different with it being much less apposable.
After finishing her inspection of the new hands she needed to use, she looked further down towards her legs. She only briefly took note of the multitude of tails attached to her just above her butt, an errant thought the only notice to what she had spent her time holding and stroking in her earlier distress.
She froze.
What felt like tears slowly filled her eyes.
She was laying on her right side, so naturally her focus was on the side that rested on the soft bed.
But now, she was looking down her left side, more specifically at her left foot.
It was a digitigrade foot, similar to her 'hands' in appearance, leading one to think they worked more like a dog's legs than a person's. but that wasn't what she was noticing at that point, it was the fact that she had a left leg, and it moved.
She sat up, trying to get a better view of the limb. Hands trembling, she slowly reached down her left side. By now her tears were falling freely, leaving matted tracks of darkened fur in their wake. Her hands came to rest on her knee, placed much higher on her leg than she was used to.
She lowly started to explore the area, feeling for any of the discomfort she was used to.
Ever so tentatively, as if afraid that it would all be an illusion, shattered by contact with her reaching hand, she moved farther down the leg.
Her tears had turned into shuddering sobs. She felt no angry scarring, no mangled limbs. She felt no hard metal against soft flesh where the artificial had once blended with organic. When she felt her foot, her crying turned into full blown wails. There was no cool metal, no phantom pains and ghostly feelings of her missing limb.
It was real.
As she stared intently at where her body had once been so broken, she noticed her left arm again. The lingering pains that had accompanied her for so many years were gone. Her once scarred limb, burned into a grotesque mockery of a normal arm, was perfect. Her hands left her legs, trying to prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that her hopes were real.
They reached her neck, feeling along the lowest region she could reach over her kimono. There was no trace of the marks that had marred her side, just a full and rich scruff of soft fur. She cupped both sides of her face and traced around the base of her vulpine ears. Her hands couldn't stop shaking as they felt down the side of her face. She relished the feeling of symmetry her face now had. All the angry burn lines, jagged surgical scars from skin and tissue grafts, and permanent disfiguring one side of her face had had for so long were gone.
A fresh wave of tears streamed forth. She had spent years afraid of what her friends, what he, would say upon seeing her. She had never been the prettiest, but her looks had been above average before the accident. That had been about a decade ago. A decade of pitying and condescending looks directed towards her, the scarred cripple.
She had truly invested in YGGDRASIL as a time killer when she couldn't walk, and it had pushed her back into social circles. She met new people and made lots of friends, but only in the digital world. She had become incredibly isolationist and reclusive after the accident and what happened after, so she had been too scared to actually risk judgement at a face to face meeting. The end of the game had spurred her on. The fear of never getting to meet the people she had come to call friends, to meet the man she had fallen in love with, had outweighed her fear of rejection.
But now? Now she could proudly look Momonga in the eye and say everything she wanted to say. The body that she had used more than her real one this past decade, the one he was familiar with, was designed to perfection. There were no blemishes or scars to mark her as someone different, someone to pity.
'There isn't much I can do about it. There isn't much I WANT to do about it.' A wry smile formed on her face as she debated what to do. She decided on the simplest, and most fulfilling, solution.
She had decided, if this was her new reality then she would live it. If Momonga wanted to try and go home, she would follow. If he decided to stay, then she would be his staunchest supporter. No matter what, she would be true to the feelings and emotions she had. But more importantly, she would be there for him, for Momonga, when he needed it. After all he had unknowingly done for her, it was the least she could do in return.
Eventually, she relaxed on her own enough to fall asleep. She was still softly crying, but they were tears of joy. As she drifted off to sleep the only thought pervading her mind was this.
She was whole again.
Momonga walked slowly through the vast, empty halls of the ninth floor of Nazarick. After leaving the Guardians to their duties he needed to check on the eighth-floor defenses. He was sure of the NPCs' loyalty, but still felt it was necessary to make sure all the systems and safety measures were in working order. It payed to be prudent when a single mishap could kill him or cripple all of Nazarick.
The time was also useful for him to collect his thoughts. The views of the NPCs were extreme, and he didn't want to disappoint them by being just average. So he had spent his extra time trying to figure out how best to interact with his new subordinates. He also tried to figure out a way to explain everything to the only other Player and Guild Member he knew to be in this position, Veres.
The situation was just so extraordinary that he didn't know what to do or how to feel. Veres was experiencing it even worse without the 'benefit' of emotional suppression. He wasn't too sure how she felt about this personally as well. Would she want to go home and do anything to get there? Or would she want to stay with him, once they were sure of their own safety?
He didn't know, but hoped it was the latter, however unlikely it would be. He was sure she still had family, unlike him, and liked her job to some extent, unlike him. No matter what happened, he would support his friend, as he always had.
He headed back towards his room, stopping only to check on minor details or when he thought of something urgent that needed doing. That is when the Pleiades maids trailing behind him became useful. Frankly speaking, they were too weak to do anything against something that made it past the eighth floor, so he decided to put them to better use. Their presence had sped up his return to his room considerably, and as he had already spent several hours away from his distraught friend, he could only try to get there as soon as possible.
Momonga eventually made it back to his room on the tenth floor.
"Pleiades, you are dismissed. Return to your normal duties." He tried to dismiss the maids now that he no longer needed their service.
"Please allow us to refuse. If someone were to attack one of the last Supreme Beings, we must be present to through away our lives for you. It is also our duty as maids to service our master. That is our only purpose, and we cannot do that if we aren't present." Yuri said. Although the others didn't verbally respond, it was quite clear in their posture that they agreed.
"Very well, you shall remain here. If I have need of you I will call you in. Unless it is Albedo with a report, or an absolute emergency, do not allow anyone to enter." Giving them permission to guard him was the best he could do in the situation.
He hurried inside his private room, past the main foyer cum office to enter the bedroom.
'She really does look divine.' If anyone could see his face, they would say a soft, gentle smile somehow graced his polished skull.
He could only think that, even in her sleep, his friend looked every part the divine creature her avatar portrayed. She had fallen asleep at some point, stretching out from the curled-up position she had been in to a more comfortable position. The dried tracks showed she had been crying, but she appeared to have finally relaxed. He marveled at the radiant glow of her form for a while before choosing to leave her in peace.
He made his way over to the spacious for poster bed, where he gently picked her up. He princess carried her, an easy task with the stats of his avatar, to the head of the bed before gently tucking her in. Once he was sure she was in a comfortable position, which was surprisingly difficult given her multitude of tails, he pulled the covers up so that she could sleep well, then slipped out of the quiet room.
He stayed in the office adjacent to the bedroom, reading reports and performing experiments as he patiently waited for his friend to wake up.
*Well, that was quite emotional to write. If you know or meet anyone who has been injured like this, don't pity them, help the stand back up and move forward. Please comment and review, I am trying to find the balance between a realistic and compelling backstory that will fit Veres' actions and personality. As you may have noticed, unless it's important to a plot point or is significantly changed in some way I will skip scenes from the anime/LN to save time.*