The Dragonborn Overlord of the New World

by nolalothcaragascint1

[Overlord AU/Canon Divergence. No Ainz or Nazarick] [Slow burn] Guild Master Tiberius of the Sanguine Dragons has spent the last 12 years adventuring throughout the nine worlds of YGGDRASIL. But now the game servers are shutting down. What happens when he inadvertently remains behind during the shut down? How will Tiberius react when finds himself in a New World?

3. Chapter I

Chapter I

Awakening

It was a rather curious sensation for the young man.

It felt sort of like floating.

No, that wasn't quite right. No, it felt more akin to being suspended within something. But it was only a guess prompted by the gentle pressure that surrounded him. Perhaps he was in a sort of liquid? Yet how could that be? If that was true then surely he would need air, right?

However, he felt nothing was wrong. There was no unease at the thought of not being able to breathe. This was simultaneously an entirely alien sensation and yet wholly familiar to him.

Whatever it was, it held him securely and comfortably.

In gentle wave-like motions, it would wash over him. With every successive wave, it took away any desire to move. Instead, he allowed himself to be held within it and let himself be content to simply drift.

Still, curiosity is a strong impulse and hard to ignore. Eventually, his inquisitiveness grew strong enough to prompt him to action. Sluggishly he opened his eyes and for the first time viewed his surroundings. Several times he blinked in disbelief at what he saw.

Before him, a vast opaqueness stretched out clearly to the horizon in all directions seemingly without end. Twisting at the waist, he glanced over his shoulder and at what waited beneath him.

There it was again, that same haze, but as he ventured deeper, it grew darker until it enveloped him in pitch blackness. With the darkness came an unsettling feeling, a sense of foreboding. The young man couldn't fathom what lurked in that void, but he knew instinctively that descending further was not an option he desired.

Turning his gaze away, he looked upward – or what he assumed to be upward.

Far above him, the surface was like polished silver. It rippled and undulated like the sea in a storm while the light from some unknown source filtered through, blindingly bright, obscuring his vision.

As he stared at the turbulent surface, the young man became aware of something new. An underlying noise in the background, faint yet discernible in its existence. It was a soft sound, muffled and distorted, but there was one unmistakable fact. It was the sound of voices. Voices that were too distant to understand properly, much like trying to listen to someone talk on the other side of a wall while standing on the opposite side of the room.

In any other circumstance, the young man would have found himself unnerved by the surreal surroundings. Yet, an inner calmness enveloped him, keeping his fears at bay.

Lost in his own thoughts, the young man failed to register the subtle shifts and murmurs around him. Oblivious to the gentle sensation of momentum that carried his body towards the surface. Such that it would have taken quite the forceful jolt or a swift, exhilarating ascent to snap him out of his reverie.

Then, a glimmer of movement caught his eye – a fleeting motion at the edge of his vision. Squinting against the light, he focused his gaze upward, piercing through the hazy veil that obscured his vision. Gradually, a silhouette materialized amidst the radiant brilliance above.

A figure.

At first, he dismissed it as a mere trick of the light, a mere illusion teasing his senses. It felt like he was gazing into a mirror with the figure above mimicking his every gesture with eerie accuracy. As the distance between him and it shrank, the figure sharpened into focus the disparities between them became glaringly evident.

Most strikingly was the contrast in the sheer size of the other figure. It towered over him, a looming presence standing a full two feet taller than he, making its robust physique impossible to ignore. Studying the shape of its head, the young man realized it was anything but human. And atop its head, he discerned what could be horns. His gaze trailed down, widening in astonishment. Something extended out from the other, a long and muscular tail stretched out between its muscular legs.

This otherworldly being was as strange as the enigmatic realm in which they found themselves. And yet, amidst the weirdness, there was an inexplicable sense of recognition, like encountering someone distinctly familiar whose name remained just out of reach.

At last, the young man's ascent came to a halt, leaving him hovering just a foot away from the shimmering, undulating surface of silver. Tentatively, he reached out his right arm, as if to test the integrity of the boundary before him. To his amazement, the silhouette before him again mirrored his gesture, moving its own considerably larger hand to the same spot. As his hand made contact with the barrier, he had expected it to be cool to his touch, but instead, warmth spread through his hand, fleeting yet unmistakable.

As one, they raised their other arms, now pressing their left hands against the invisible barrier. In doing so, a strange conviction gripped him, urging him to push harder. Compelled by some unseen force, he obeyed, his muscles tensing as he exerted whatever strength he could muster.

Suddenly, like a bolt of lightning, the barrier gave way and his hands slipped through to disappear.

Upon contact with the other side, the silhouetted figure began to glow with a golden light, and a warmth surged throughout his body. Inch by inch, his forearms vanished into the shimmering veil of obscurity. And still, he felt no urge to pull away, no trace of fear as more of himself slipped through.

Before long, he could feel the warmth on his face as his cheek pressed against the barrier. Now, he experienced something new – a sensation of joy akin to reuniting with an old friend.

A smile spread across his face.

Then, with a gentle ripple, he was gone.

o – o – o – o

Gradually and with great effort, Tiberius was pulled from the realm of dreams and returned to the waking world. Lethargy clung to him like a warm blanket, demanding that he ignore all else and simply go back to sleep.

Yet begrudgingly the dragonoid began to stir. Each movement worked to stoke his internal fires rousing his body from its dormant state. His eyelids cracked open, revealing a bleary view of his surroundings. Though sleep still addled his brain, Tiberius had no difficulty in recognizing the location.

Still here? I guess there must still be time before the shutdown.

With a tremendous yawn, he stretched out on the high-backed throne and moved to sit up. A familiar stiffness gripped the muscles of his neck. It was a sensation he was well acquainted with, having fallen asleep multiple times in his chair. Craning his neck from side to side, he worked to stretch the reluctant muscles in an attempt to compel them to release their stored tension.

Must've fallen asleep again.

From the corner of his eye, the brief flitter of movement captured his focus. Ceasing his stretching, he froze, save for his head which turned to follow the source. To his right was the beautiful Yuliana, a soft smile gracing her features.

"Ah, you're awake. I do hope you rested well, my lord."

Her soft, sweet voice served well to sweep away any residue of sleep that still clung to Tiberius' mind.

"Though should you feel the need to sleep I would suggest retiring to your chambers would be a better option."

With a wordless stare, the dragonoid could only gawk at the striking woman standing before him.

Flame-coloured eyes twitched and darted across her figure, fixating on every detail with keen interest. But it was her face that held his utmost attention. He studied the subtle movements of her lips as she spoke, intricacies far beyond the capabilities of any ordinary NPC in the virtual realm of YGGDRASIL. Another peculiarity was how her eyes would avert from his gaze whenever they made fleeting contact. In his periphery, he noticed the subtle shifts in her stance and the rhythmic rise and fall of her bosom with each breath, adding to the sense of vibrant animation.

Every detail he observed spoke volumes, convincing him she was more than just a rudimentary game NPC.

Struck by the foreign notion, the dragonoid tore his gaze away from the dark-haired beauty and looked to the others present. Whatever the cause of this sudden change, it clearly affected more than just the Guardian Overseer.

Nearby stood Mathias, the Chief Attendant. The tall fae rested his hands atop his cane, the gleaming ivory of his fleshless horned canine skull betraying no emotion. Yet, the flicker in the pinpricks of light within his eyes revealed the fae abomination's concern.

Having moved from his place on the lowest tier to stand alongside Mathias. The kobold bard stared up at the figure seated on the throne with his large silver eyes. The slight tilt of his head was a mannerism reminiscent of a curious puppy.

Beyond the two, Tiberius could see the assembled Valkyries. The band of female warriors no longer stood single file along the side of the carpeted path. But now stood gathered about the base of the throne platform, all with their eyes focused on him.

"Something's wrong…" Tiberius' words had come out as little more than a guttural muttering.

With the utterance of those two terrible words, the smile was wiped from Yuliana's features. In its place a new expression of concern and unease.

"What do you mean, Lord Tiberius?" the Guardian Overseer inquired with a tentative tone, "What's wrong?"

Ignoring her words, the dragonoid bolted upright from the shimmering throne.

Blinded by his own urgency, Tiberius failed to register the effect of his sudden actions on the demure female NPC to his side. Her graceful form jolted with a start, surprise animating her features as she swiftly stepped aside. Meanwhile, Mathias stood, arms lowered, the orbs of light within empty sockets animated in a mix of astonishment and intrigue. In the midst of it all, diminutive Kip sought refuge behind the towering attendant, clutching the edges of the other's obsidian robes with a blend of trepidation and curiosity, he cautiously peered around its protective barrier.

With thundering strides, Tiberius leaped down the elevated steps of the platform, his commanding presence drawing every eye as he closed in on the stunned Valkyries. Caught off guard, the valiant maidens quickly snapped out of their daze, parting like a well-drilled unit to make way for the advancing dragonoid. Their only recourse was to deeply bow in deference as he swept past them, leaving them in awe of his swift and decisive passage.

Hardly had their master departed from their sight when the Valkyries straightened their postures once more, their focus now shifting collectively to the highest ranked amongst them. The Guardian Overseer, perched regally upon the throne dais, seemed indifferent to the others' contemplation, her unwavering gaze locked onto the receding form of her lord.

Yet, even she, like the rest in the room, couldn't suppress the gnawing curiosity that brewed within her. A fleeting but ominous thought crept into the recesses of the Guardian Overseer's mind, planting the seed of a dreaded possibility.

What if they were the cause of this? Had they somehow displeased their master?

As she looked upon the faces of her fellows and on those faces, she could see the same fears etched into their features. Perhaps the same thought had wormed its way into their minds.

Unable to reason an answer, Yuliana did the only thing she could. Starting forward, she left her place by the throne and descended the platform at a clipped pace as she chased after her liege.

No sooner had the Guardian Overseer sped past them than the other NPCs was quick to give chase.

Like a streak of lightning, the dragonoid dashed down the carpeted path, the resounding clinks and clatters of his armour resonating through the air. His billowing crimson cape trailed behind him, caught in the wind of his relentless pace. The distance to the towering metallic doors that guarded the entrance to the Rotunda rapidly diminished, as if time itself were bending to accommodate his urgency. Finally, he arrived at the formidable barricades, placing his hands upon the cool, unyielding metal. With an instinctive surge of strength, he pushed, unleashing a force that would have astounded him had he been in a more composed state of mind.

The heavy doors, imbued with an almost supernatural responsiveness, yielded effortlessly to his touch, parting to grant him passage. Stepping through the threshold, the dragonoid found himself embraced by the shadowy expanse beneath the imposing marble overhang of the Rotunda's pediment. His momentum paused, his eyes instinctively drawn upward, captivated by the breathtaking sight of the vast sky stretching above the majestic mountain.

The sky's wrong!

Pressing onward with unwavering determination, he sprinted down the multitude of stairs, each step a blur beneath his pounding feet. The landing approached, and with an agile leap, he cleared the gap, landing with a resolute thud on the second set of stairs. The momentum of his sprint carried him forward, propelling him down the staircase with a furious urgency.

In his haste, the dragonoid's foot caught on a treacherous edge, causing him to stumble precariously. For a brief, heart-stopping moment, his balance teetered on the edge of disaster, threatening to send him hurtling downwards. Yet, with a desperate twist of his body and a lightning-fast reflex, he managed to regain his footing, narrowly avoiding a disastrous tumble.

Undeterred by these near mishaps, he pushed himself even harder, his resolve unyielding. Each stride he took propelled him closer to his destination, the courtyard beckoning him with a tantalizing promise of progress.

"Wait, my lord! Please wait!"

As he strode across the open plaza, the urgent cries and clamor of approaching footsteps seemed to fade into the background, barely registering in Tiberius' focused mind. His determination pushed him forward, undeterred by the voices that called out to him, pleading for attention.

It was only when he passed under the towering triumphal arch that his rapid pace began to slow. Stepping onto the veranda, he stood at the precipice, his gaze fixed on the vast expanse that lay before him. With a mixture of awe and disbelief, he surveyed the transformed landscape that stretched as far as the eye could see.

Gone were the familiar rolling hills and the tranquil river that once flowed through the valley. In their place stood a thick forest, its dense canopy casting shadows over the once-vibrant scenery. The towering trees seemed to stretch endlessly, obscuring the horizon with their towering presence.

Turning his attention skyward, Tiberius searched for any sign of familiarity, his flame-coloured eyes scanning the heavens. But the celestial wonders that once adorned the night sky were nowhere to be found. Instead of the dazzling constellations and vibrant nebulae, he was greeted by an unfamiliar and alien sky, devoid of the beauty he had known.

A sense of unease settled upon the dragonoid as he realized that he had entered a world drastically different from the one he had known. The realization hung heavy in the air, mingling with a mix of curiosity and apprehension.

What the hell is going on?! It's wrong, all wrong, none of this is right!

A slack-jawed and baffled expression settled over his inhuman visage.

First, the NPCs act like real people, and then the whole world has been changed. Is this some sort of upgrade, an expansion pack, perhaps? Or is this a dream?

So it was the dragonoid stood on the stone balcony in a motionless stupor. His draconic head inclined with his muzzle pointed toward the sky. As his mind reeled in its trying to come to grips with the situation in which he had found himself.

It was only the sharp strikes of sandaled and boot-clad feet that brought the dragonoid back from his floundering thoughts.

"My lord," once more Yuliana's fear-filled voice called out to him, "Please don't leave."

Gradually, Tiberius pivoted to face the NPCs who had followed and now stood gathered. His eyes roved over each of them in turn and saw on them the uncertainty that gripped them all.

"Please," the Guardian Overseer continued, inching forward with every word, "Tell us what it is that troubles you so. Is it we who are the cause? Have we done something to offend you? If we have, then we ask you, please tell us and allow us to make the appropriate restitution."

Soon others join her, giving voice to their concerns.

Within the dragonoid's troubled mind, their voices merged becoming a cacophony of indiscernible echoes. Tiberius tried to block it out but annoyance gave way to irritation till he could stand it no more, and turned to anger. Raw and primal.

"Enough!"

The dragonoid's roar reverberated through the open expanse of the plateau, shaking the very air around him like thunder. His mighty tail lashed about with unrestrained fury, its impact against the stone floor echoing akin to the crack of a whip. Leathery wings unfurled from his powerful frame, stretching out with an impressive span that cast a formidable shadow.

Gone was the calm and composed expression once worn on Tiberius' reptilian visage. In its place, a terrifying transformation took hold. His draconic features contorted into a fearsome countenance, his fiery eyes narrowing into menacing slits that seemed to emit an intense glow. Lips curled back in a snarl, revealing rows of razor-sharp teeth. As the deep bass of his growl rumbled from within his chest, resonating with primal power.

At the sight of this terrifying display, the voices that had filled the air fell silent, replaced by a collective gasp of astonishment and fear. The NPCs instinctively took several steps back, their faces pale with trepidation. Only the Guardian Overseer managed to maintain her composure, though even she eventually succumbed to the weight of his gaze, retreating to join her comrades.

A tense silence hung in the air as Tiberius continued to assert his dominance, his presence and gaze commanding obedience. The NPCs, recognizing the threat, assumed submissive postures, their heads bowed and shoulders slumped in a display of deference.

After a prolonged moment, the dragonoid's aggressive display gradually eased, his fierce countenance giving way to a more composed state. His wings flapped and settled back into their folded position, as if signaling a temporary truce. With a heavy sigh, Tiberius turned away from the NPCs, determined to put their presence out of his mind. He closed his eyes, his hand tracing a weary path along the length of his reptilian muzzle, a gesture of exhaustion and resignation.

A tempest of emotions raged within him, churning his thoughts and tugging at his conscience. Tiberius was caught in the whirlwind of anxiety, grappling with the uncertainties that surrounded him. As the storm of his mind subsided, a wave of remorse washed over him, its grip tightening with each passing moment. He had unleashed his fury without restraint, unaware of the consequences his outburst would bring.

Regret gnawed at him, like a persistent ache. He hadn't intended to unleash such a torrent of aggression, but the overwhelming confusion and the weight of his own inner turmoil had pushed him to the brink. It was a struggle to cope with the relentless cacophony that surrounded him, a symphony of voices that only amplified his distress.

Yet, as the echoes of his wrath began to fade, a pang of empathy coursed through his veins. He realized that the NPCs were likely just as disconcerted by the situation as he was, their own fears and concerns manifested through their vocal expressions. They were not silent bystanders, but active participants in this bewildering predicament.

Tiberius couldn't help but question the fairness of his actions. Should he have reacted with such ferocity? Was it justified to expect them to remain quiet when faced with the unknown? In his heart, he knew that their voices were merely a reflection of their own anxieties.

Deep within, a flicker of understanding emerged, urging him to find a path of reconciliation. The dragonoid yearned to bridge the divide, to forge a connection that transcended the chaos. For in the end, they were all ensnared in this enigmatic labyrinth, each grappling with their own uncertainties.

Maybe they didn't shut down the servers after all.

Craning his neck, the dragonoid cast a covert glance toward the silent NPCs.

They're so lifelike now. Could this be some kind of beta test for YGGDRASIL II or something? But if it was, then they would've had to notify me about it. Otherwise, they could be liable for kidnapping charges against them. But… the programming skills needed to create such an advanced AI would be God-tier.

He thumbed his jaw in thought.

There has to be a way to sort this out and get some answers. Some kind of test… Yes, that's it! I just need to do some tests.

Shifting, Tiberius turned back to again face the others. As he did so they stared up at him with expectant faces.

"Valkyries," he called out.

As his voice reverberated through the air, Tiberius stood there, stunned by the unfamiliar sound that echoed back to his ears. It was as if the words he spoke carried a weight and depth he had never experienced before. The timbre of his voice, deep and resonant, sent shivers down his spine, like the rumble of distant thunder on a stormy night.

It was a voice that held a certain allure, reminiscent of the narrators in epic fantasy games or the grandiose opening sequences of films. The commanding baritone infused his words with a sense of gravitas, as if they were charged with the power to shape destinies and unravel the mysteries of the universe.

At that moment, Tiberius realized the profound impact his voice could have. It was a tool, a weapon even, capable of commanding attention and evoking emotions. The revelation awakened a newfound confidence within him, as he began to grasp the potential that lay dormant within his vocal cords. Tiberius knew that his voice would not only be a means of communication but also a source of power, shaping his journey through this enigmatic realm.

A sense of satisfaction washed over Tiberius, he liked this change.

Swiftly the Valkyries came forth to heed the call.

The group of seven female warriors, once scattered and uncoordinated, now moved with remarkable efficiency and discipline. In a matter of moments, the chaotic gathering transformed into a formation of perfect order. The Valkyries, with their backs ramrod straight and chins held high, stood in a precise single-file line. Their eyes focused intently on their master, awaiting his instructions with unwavering devotion.

The sight was nothing short of impressive. The unity and synchrony displayed by the warriors showcased their unwavering commitment and the trust they placed in their leader. It was a testament to the bond they shared.

As Tiberius surveyed the disciplined formation before him, a surge of pride swelled within his chest. He couldn't help but admire the dedication and unwavering loyalty of his valiant companions.

Good, they still obey. Now let's see… back in YGGDRASIL only a mercenary NPC could enter or leave a guild base. While those NPCs created to guard a guild base can't be moved passed its borders.

"Synnova, step forward."

As her name resonated through the air, the imposing figure at the forefront of the formation came to life. With a sharp click of her heels, Synnova, the epitome of unwavering determination, stepped forward. Her demeanor exuded a stern confidence that demanded respect.

Synnova, the unofficial leader of the group, possessed an aura of commanding presence. Standing tall and statuesque, she was a vision of beauty meticulously sculpted by a master artist. Her ebony black hair was meticulously styled, shaved on the sides, and tied back in an elegant single-braided ponytail. Her athletic physique showcased a perfect balance of strength and femininity, with muscles that rippled beneath her skin, accentuating her curves.

But it was the intricate tattoos that adorned her body that truly captured attention. A mesmerizing display of artistry and symbolism adorned her arms and legs. A symphony of intricate designs adorned her arms, featuring interwoven spirals of spears and arrows stretching from her wrists to her biceps. On her legs, the ink took the form of bladed weaponry, including swords, daggers, and even the occasional hand axe. Each tattoo spoke of battles fought, victories earned, and the indomitable spirit that burned within her.

Synnova donned a formidable armour ensemble inspired by the legendary Roman Legionaries. A scarlet tunic formed the foundation, serving as a vibrant backdrop for the dark metal cuirass that encased her torso. The faceted pauldrons, reminiscent of a glistening diamond, emphasized her formidable presence. Bands of the same dark metal protected her upper arms, a testament to her readiness for combat. From her waist hung a skirt of shimmering scale mail, crafted from silvery metal and complemented by a tasset of supple wyvern leather dyed in a mesmerizing shade of blue. Completing her attire were shin-high boots made of soft leather, their bronze-hued shin guards adding an extra layer of protection.

In every aspect, Synnova epitomized the epitome of a leader. Her appearance radiated strength and resilience, embodying the spirit of a warrior who stood unwavering in the face of adversity. Her mere presence instilled a sense of confidence and determination in her fellow Valkyries, who looked to her for guidance and inspiration.

With her stern countenance and imposing stature, Synnova was a force to be reckoned with. The Valkyrie leader was ready to lead her sisters into battle, her unwavering determination a beacon of hope and a symbol of their unbreakable unity.

"What are your commands, my liege?" she inquired with the gruff tone of a leader as she lowered herself to a single knee.

"You shall lead the other Valkyries on a mission to survey the lands which surround the mountain. After reaching a distance of five miles, circle the mountain and then report back once you have done so."

"As you command it shall be done."

Rising gracefully from her kneeling position, Synnova placed a hand over her heart and executed a deep, reverent bow. With a fluid heel turn, she regrouped with her valiant comrades at her side, a silent unity guiding their movements.

Without uttering a word, the Valkyries synchronized their steps, moving in perfect harmony towards the edge of the balcony. Their cadence was so precise, that Tiberius could have sworn they were engaged in a meticulously choreographed spectacle.

With bated breath, the dragonoid watched intently, anticipation tingling in his veins. His gaze fixated on Ryoko, the Kitsune magic caster, who stepped forward to face her sisters. The seven majestic fox tails swaying behind her marked her unmistakably.

Though Tiberius couldn't discern the words that flowed from Ryoko's lips, the answer soon revealed itself. Extending her right arm, palm outstretched, a delicate glow enveloped all of her fellow Valkyries, except one. The reason for this became clear.

In a breathtaking display, Synnova became the first to defy gravity, propelled by a formidable leap that sent her soaring into the heavens. She readily embraced the freedom of flight, hovering effortlessly about sixty feet above the ground. Ifni, the Half-fiend, and Pyria, the Half-celestial, followed suit, their graceful ascent mere moments behind. One by one, the remaining Valkyries took to the sky, each taking flight with sublime elegance.

With the squad united in mid-air, the Valkyries settled into a simple V-formation, a spectacle of unity and purpose. As they pivoted in unison and set to their assigned task, their forms grew smaller and smaller, gradually disappearing into the vast expanse of the dark horizon.

Overwhelmed by astonishment, Tiberius stood in silence, his senses still tingling with the spectacle he had just witnessed. These once guild-bound warriors had transformed into distant specks, their newfound freedom symbolizing their transcendence from the mountain stronghold they once called home.

They can leave?!

With a rapid movement, he pivoted on his heel to again face the other NPCs.

"Yuliana," Tiberius called out.

Without hesitation, the Guardian Overseer strode forwards, "Yes, my lord?"

"I need to go to my quarters, there's… something I need to confirm for myself. Inform me when the Valkyries have returned."

"Of course," her response was punctuated with a small bow, "And what would you have the rest of us do, sire? Shall I alert the other Floor Guardians?"

Listening to her speak, Tiberius couldn't help but take note of the soft tone with which she spoke.

She's probably afraid I'll yell at her again.

"Yes, inform the others to be on high alert. Nothing is to enter or leave this mountain without my knowing about it."

Without hesitation, Tiberius disregarded any response and forged ahead, leaving the three NPCs behind. In a display of reverence, they bowed in unison, their eyes following their master's resolute stride toward the central stairwell in the courtyard.

"Ooh, Kip not like seeing master so mad," the little kobold spoke in his raspy yet surprisingly high-pitched tone, "It not being anything that we be doing, you think?"

Incling his head, Mathias stooped over to place a comforting hand on the shoulder of his smaller compatriot. "Indeed, our master does seem most troubled as of late. Though I cannot say as to the cause. I do not believe it to lie with any of our doing per se."

"It does not matter," Yuliana interjected, "The Supreme One has issued his commands and it is our duty to carry out his wishes." She spoke dispassionately, her gaze falling to the kobold, "Kip, you will see to it that the other Floor Guardians are informed of the master's orders."

"Yess," the little reptile responded enthusiastically, "Yess, Kip will do."

With a nod of determination, the reptilian bard swiftly set off on his mission, his steps filled with purpose. However, in his fervor, Kip stumbled and landed with a soft thud. Undeterred, the nimble kobold quickly regained his balance and resumed his brisk pace, eager to continue his journey.

From their position on the balcony, the Chief Attendant and the Guardian Overseer looked on.

"I believe I shall follow the master. He may have need of assistance," Mathias mused aloud, "And you? What shall you do, my lady?"

"You see to your duty," Yuliana stood stark still, jade-coloured eyes focused on the tunnel through which the dragonoid had disappeared, "Just as I shall see to mine. I will return to the Throne Room and oversee the mountain's defenses."

Silently, they exchanged nods, acknowledging their respective roles. With a respectful bow, the fae abomination bid farewell to his superior and swiftly began to trail behind, matching the dragonoid's pace. His onyx cloak billowed in the wind, creating an ethereal sight as he moved.

Yuliana, on the other hand, paused momentarily, her gaze fixed on the vanishing figure of the Chief Attendant. She watched as his coattails faded into the distance, a flicker of emotion crossing her face. As the wind rustled her raven hair and the folds of her peplos. With a determined glint in her eyes, she reached up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear, a silent gesture of composure. Gathering her resolve, she pivoted on her heel and began her purposeful stride towards the awaiting Throne Room, her every step filled with determination and anticipation.

o – o – o – o

The Ninth Floor of Týrnaust stood apart from the rest, a realm distinct in its purpose and design.

Unlike the lower floors, crafted to challenge and deter intruders, the Ninth Floor held a different role. It was a sanctuary, a haven, meticulously designed to cater to the needs and comforts of the esteemed members of the Sanguine Dragons.

The Divine City, a realm they had crafted as their personal paradise, earned its name with reverence.

Expansive in size, surpassing several square miles with a soaring ceiling that stretched a quarter mile high, it stood as one of the grandest levels within the fortress of Týrnaust. Only the Enchanted Forest of the third floor could rival its vastness.

The landscape of the Ninth Floor was predominantly flat, save for a prominent hill that graced its eastern edge. Across this expanse, the members of the guild had erected a virtual township, each cardinal direction dedicated to a unique landmark.

A small city where each of its cardinal directions was dedicated to a specific landmark.

To the west, an array of diverse structures dotted the landscape, serving as private abodes for the esteemed guild members. These were sanctuaries, sacred spaces where their most treasured possessions and secrets found solace. Each dwelling was a reflection of its owner's individual taste and style.

In the expansive skybox above, a floating island commanded attention. Perched upon this small scrape of land, a majestic Egyptian pyramid rose, guarded by towering onyx obelisks. Its golden walls were adorned with mystical runes and hieroglyphics, while a diamond capstone shimmered as a radiant guide. While amidst a cluster of fragmented boulders, a wizard's tower stood with weathered stone walls, adorned with lichen, moss, and verdant vines. Just a stone's throw away, an exquisite castle reminiscent of the Edo period graced the landscape, its banners fluttering proudly. And yet, juxtaposed against these architectural marvels, an unfeeling and modern apartment building loomed, its austere facade contrasting with the warmth and grace of the surrounding structures.

These were but a few glimpses into the vibrant tapestry of ninety-two unique residences, nestled together on the western half of the floor.

To the north, a magnificent sight awaited – the Grand Arena, a replica of the legendary Roman Circus Maximus. Fondly known as "The Circus," this colossal structure served as the hub of entertainment for the Sanguine Dragons.

This structure served a purpose much like its historical counterpart in providing entertainment for the guild's members. It was here the Sanguine Dragons would host their own events. From thrilling tournaments that ignited fierce competition among guildmates, to challenging battles against waves of formidable monsters, the Grand Arena became a showground for glory and victory. It was also a place of growth, where newcomers could receive valuable instruction and seasoned warriors could test their skills and equipment in controlled training events.

The Grand Arena had borne witness not only to exhilarating competitions but also friendly conflicts among guild members. When disputes arose and resolution seemed elusive, the arena became the battleground for settling differences. Within the confines of a PvP duel, tensions would be released, grievances would find closure, and harmony would be restored, leaving any lingering disagreements behind in the sands of the arena.

Perched atop the eastern hill, commanding a panoramic view of the entire floor, as a king presiding over the whole of the floor, stood the grand tribute to the Sanguine Dragons: The Temple of the Dragons. Drawing inspiration from the grandeur of the ancient Greek Parthenon, this colossal structure reigned supreme over its domain, symbolizing the noble spirit and unity of the guild.

Its pristine alabaster façade radiated an ethereal glow, accentuated by columns of ruby crystal that encircled the temple. Bathed in artificial light, these crystal pillars resembled blazing flames, adding a touch of awe-inspiring magnificence to the already impressive sight.

Nestled in the southern expanse of the city, the Safari Park stood as a testament to the whimsical visions of Green Tea Tsunami and her sister, PunyTea Puddle. United by their shared fascination for the fantastical creatures of YGGDRASIL, this zoological wonderland became a sanctuary for creatures from realms far and wide. Each majestic beast found a spacious enclosure that afforded them ample freedom.

Among the park's notable attractions was The Stables, a humble structure that served as a cherished gathering place for guild members to showcase their prized mounts. It was here that rare and coveted creatures, obtained through special events and competitions, or simply adored by their owners, found their well-deserved spotlight.

This was all laid out before the dragonoid as he strode with purpose through the realm of the Ninth Floor.

The sprawling mock cityscape commanded attention, a testament to the diverse artistic influences and boundless creativity of the guild members.

A captivating blend of architectural styles collided harmoniously across the landscape. Ancient Greek columns intermingled with Roman symbols, while medieval European structures stood proudly alongside the elegant aesthetics of feudal Japan. It was a mosaic of cultures seamlessly woven together, a testament to the collective vision and skill of the guild.

Smooth cobblestone streets reminiscent of old European cities stretched before the eye, intersected by majestic Ancient Egyptian obelisks adorned with intricate hieroglyphs and shimmering runes. Romanesque fountains, adorned with ornate statues honoring the guild's achievements, graced the cityscape. Vibrant tile frescoes adorned the walls, telling captivating stories through their colorful depictions. As the sun set, crystal lampposts bathed the pathways in a warm, enchanting glow, guiding wanderers through the night cycles of this magical city.

Within this vibrant landscape, a multitude of intriguing locations awaited exploration.

At the heart of the city center stood the grand Euphoria Baths, an expansive complex offering a range of communal bathing experiences. From opulent Roman pools, where heated mineral waters embraced weary bodies, to traditional Japanese onsens infused with alchemically enhanced properties. Bubbling hot springs boasted restorative mana qualities, while steam-filled saunas were tailored to enhance an individual's stats.

On one side of a bustling plaza, a medieval-style tavern beckoned with open-air seating. Within its walls, the esteemed Head Chef NPC delighted patrons with a diverse menu of cuisines, each capable of temporarily boosting a player's attributes. On the opposite side, an exquisite tea house enticed visitors with its artfully crafted beverages, each possessing unique qualities and effects.

Distinguished by twin chimneys reminiscent of nuclear power plant cooling towers, the guild's smithy housed the skilled blacksmith brothers, Oddr and Randr. Their craftsmanship knew no bounds, and they were renowned for their exceptional weapons and armour.

Above it all, the YGGDRASIL skybox stretched like a breathtaking canvas. Clear sunny days dotted with fluffy white clouds contrasted with mesmerizing nights adorned by sweeping nebulae, a tranquil moon, and a tapestry of shimmering stars. The very essence of the virtual world came to life in this intricately recreated celestial spectacle.

As with the rest of the mountain dungeon, this floor too was not without its own residents.

Graceful and enchanting, the nymphs graced the Ninth Floor with their ethereal presence. Their delicate features mirrored the beauty of elves, but their distinguishing feature was the elongated elegance of their ears.

Legend spoke of the nymphs as guardians of purity, entrusted with the sacred duty of safeguarding hallowed grounds. And so, it was only fitting that they were chosen as the caretakers of the Ninth Floor, upholding the traditions of old and preserving the sanctity of this realm.

So it was on this floor that the dragonoid had unknowingly set himself on a collision course.

Tiberius moved along the cobblestone at his brisk pace, a loud clack coming from his taloned feet with every footfall. His mind was a constant wash with questions that came with no answers. It was unfortunate that he was so preoccupied that he took little notice of those around him.

Seemingly on autopilot, Tiberius began to round a corner. It was then there came a shrill cry. Jarred from his troubled thoughts, the dragonoid shook his head, his fiery eyes searching for the source.

Lying on the smooth stones before him was one of the guild's caretakers.

She stared up at him with eyes wide and mouth agape. Tiberius wasn't sure if perhaps it was shock or fear that she was showing just now. But he did know that he didn't care for it.

He surveyed the girl and judged from her placement on the ground. It was likely that he had inadvertently scared the girl. In realization his visage softened as he began to reach toward her, only to halt at her reaction.

In the blink of an eye, the nymph scrambled to prostrate herself before him. Resting on her knees, head bowed and back bent, she touched her forehead to the cold stone at his feet. Before the girl, she held her hands pressed together as if in prayer.

"Please forgive this one, my lord," her plea was soft, little more than a whimper, "I did not mean to impede you."

Tiberius merely stared at the graveling nymph.

I didn't mean to run into her. But sheesh, the way she's acting you'd think I'd done it on purpose.

Leaning forward the dragonoid stared down at the beauty.

"You have done nothing wrong. Please rise."

The long-eared female remained motionless before her master. Perhaps out of fear, or maybe in contemplation of her reprieve. Tentatively she lifted her head from the greys stones, her gaze creeping upwards along the draconic figure before her. The hesitation she showcased was a testament to her uncertainty.

Yet slowly she began to rise.

Radiating an aura of ethereal beauty, she graced the space with her presence. Standing at a height of around five and a half feet, her slender figure exuded grace and elegance. Cascading down her shoulders was a mesmerizing mane of sky-blue hair, accentuating her attractive face.

Adorning her neck was a delicate golden collar, adorned with a heart-shaped pendant that swayed gently. Her attire, though modest, exuded an air of refinement, and consisted of a flowing pale blue chiton, draping stylishly to her knees. A silver rope girdle embraced her waist, accentuating her curves and adding a touch of allure. Completing her ensemble were dark leather moccasins, adding a sense of groundedness to her otherworldly presence.

"What is your name?" Tiberius asked, offering a small smile to ease the tension.

"I am called Blue, my lord," this time the nymph bowed as she recited her name.

Not the most imaginative name.

"Again, please forgive my interruption."

The dragonoid waved his hand, "It's quite alright, you've not hindered me."

"I see," was all she said.

The pair stood in awkward silence with the blue-haired nymph gazing up at the much taller dragonoid. This was something that Tiberius was quick to put an end to.

"I'll let you get back to whatever it was you were doing, Blue."

Acknowledging the caretaker's respectful bow, he returned a nod of gratitude before continuing on his path, conscious of her gaze lingering on his departing figure. Determined not to encounter any further obstacles, the dragonoid maintained heightened vigilance, carefully navigating his surroundings. He deftly veered off course on multiple occasions, skillfully evading potential encounters with other caretakers.

As his humble abode came into sight, Tiberius felt a mixture of relief and self-reflection wash over him. He had always preferred simplicity over extravagance, and his own designs often reflected that. Yet, in the company of ambitious and talented individuals, he couldn't help but feel the pressure to measure up. Unfortunately, his attempts to match their skill and ambition had resulted in a chaotic mess.

However, he knew that true friends were there to lend a helping hand.

Through a conciliation with Weeping Martyr, Socrates Architect, and several others, he was introduced to the design that would be ultimately settled upon.

In order to blend in with the medieval ambiance, Tiberius opted for a Norman Keep design, striking a balance between form and function. The keep stood as a simple rectangular structure, constructed from unadorned grey stone blocks. Its smooth walls were broken only by a grand front door and a pair of small windows at the front, adding a touch of variation. The roof, adorned with decorative merlons, lay flat atop the keep.

During his research, Tiberius discovered that historical keeps were often several stories tall. However, as he had no need for such vast space, he decided to limit his design to a single story.

Tiberius' hand tightened around the brass doorknob, and with a swift twist, he swung the door open. Eagerly, he stepped over the threshold, seeking the solace of his private quarters. As he moved inside, he instinctively reached behind to close the door. With a firm grip on its edge, he exerted enough force to make it slam shut. But to his astonishment, he felt an unexpected sensation, causing him to startle and jump back in surprise.

As Tiberius forcefully closed the door without looking, a sudden thump reverberated through his body, akin to being struck by a solid rod. It didn't cause any significant pain, but it was enough to startle him and demand his attention.

In a swift motion, he swiveled his draconic head around, his gaze fixating on the source of the unexpected sensation. And there it was, the simple explanation right before him.

In his haste, he had accidentally trapped his own tail between the door and the frame. Fortunately, the sturdy scales of his appendage provided a level of protection. Reacting swiftly, Tiberius turned sharply, freeing his tail from the predicament and bringing it safely inside the room before finally closing the door.

Beyond the imposing oak door, a realm of warmth and comfort unfolded. The room stretched before him, its dimensions embracing a sense of openness and tranquility. Within its walls, a symphony of rich colors and textures danced harmoniously, beckoning him further.

Beneath his feet, the rosewood planks exuded an inviting warmth, inviting him to tread upon their polished surface. Overhead, the exposed mahogany rafters added a touch of rustic flair, imbuing the space with a sense of timeless charm. The plastered walls, adorned in earthy tones, whispered stories of serenity and balance. At the heart of the room, a magnificent chandelier of dark iron suspended from above, encircled by enchanting candles. Their ethereal glow cast a soft, flickering light, transforming the space into a sanctuary of gentle illumination. As his gaze traveled across the room, he discovered a short hall leading to two doors, promising hidden treasures beyond.

Divided by design, the room embraced two distinct themes, each possessing its own allure.

To the east, a cozy haven awaited. A grand fireplace commanded attention, its crackling flames embracing the air with a comforting warmth. Before it sprawled an enormous bearskin rug, inviting weary feet to sink into its plush embrace. Positioned nearby, an oversized couch and a pair of sturdy chairs beckoned him to surrender to their embrace, promising hours of relaxation and solace. Nestled between the seating, a short rectangular table stood proudly, its ivory legs intricately carved into the form of resting wolves. Atop their noble heads rested a tabletop of clear crystal, inviting reflection and contemplation.

Venturing towards the western side would be to be transported to a Victorian-era study, an homage to the captivating tales of a renowned fictional English detective. The room exuded an air of sophistication and intellectual curiosity, drawing him into its captivating ambiance.

A circular green rug, adorned with concentric rings of gleaming gold, commanded attention in the center of the space. It served as a welcoming platform, inviting one to step into the world of deduction and intrigue. Behind an expansive antique wooden desk, stood a grand wingback chair, its generous dimensions ready to cradle even the dragonoid's formidable frame with comfort and elegance. Tiberius' gaze shifted towards the wall beyond, where a pair of floor-to-ceiling bookshelves proudly displayed their literary treasures. Each shelf bore the weight of countless volumes, their spines whispering of the tales they contained. While the fragrance of aged paper and ink lingered in the air, an invitation to explore the vast knowledge contained within those well-worn pages.

To the left of the desk, a ten-foot-long glass display case took prominence, its contents a testament to triumphs and conquests. Within its secure embrace rested an array of trophies, cherished reminders of past victories and feats accomplished. Adjacent to the desk, a magical globe stood, its enchantment capable of transforming its topography to mirror any of YGGDRASIL's Nine Worlds. It was a portal to the imagination, offering glimpses into realms beyond mortal reach.

Together, the eastern and western sections of the room created a harmonious fusion, embodying both comfort and intellectual allure. It was a haven for contemplation, relaxation, and the pursuit of knowledge – a testament to the multifaceted nature of the dragonoid's spirit.

Yet, the true centerpiece of all this resided within an unadorned nook within the study, a cherished relic that held unparalleled significance – the guild's sacred artifact.

With a reverent hush, Tiberius approached the narrow alcove, his gaze fixated on the object of immense importance contained within. In the muted atmosphere of the study, the dragonoid stood in awe, a guardian of this irreplaceable symbol, a testament to the unbreakable bonds and shared destiny of the Sanguine Dragons.

There it stood, the guild weapon, a beacon of unity and strength, embodying the very essence of their collective purpose. Its power was unparalleled, capable of turning the tides of battle and safeguarding the guild's existence. A single glance revealed the weight of responsibility that rested upon its hallowed presence. This artifact served as a solemn reminder that the guild's fate and future were intrinsically intertwined with its preservation. For should this sacred item ever meet its doom, it would mark the irreversible demise of their cherished community.

Forged from the most exquisite materials, the guild weapon stood as an embodiment of the collective might of the group. Its creation had been a monumental undertaking, requiring the concerted efforts of the entire guild over the span of a year. This extraordinary feat served as a testament to the power that could be harnessed when united under a common purpose.

In the virtual realm of YGGDRASIL, guild weapons could manifest in any desired form. The Sanguine Dragons had crafted their emblem of power, known as the Dragon's Staff. Despite its name, it resembled more of a formidable pole-axe than a traditional staff.

The Staff of the Five-headed Dragon stood as a formidable polearm, stretching eight feet from base to crown. The hexagonal shaft was unique, composed of a platinum-coloured metal it oddly possessed the full-grain pattern of natural wood. At its heel a sphere of crimson-ruby rest atop the narrow structure of a multifaceted diamond of pure obsidian. Balanced on its impossible point was only made possible by the magic contained within the mighty construct. Crowning the pole axe was a broad leaf-shaped spearhead fashioned of pale icy blue sapphire. The crystal arose from the gripping claws of the golden figurine of the five-headed dragon, Tiamat. The dragon's four limbs held tight to the platinum shaft, its elongated tail wound down along the length of the upper portion. Furled wings created a diamondlike shape that served to form a pair of dual axe blades. Most striking were the eyes that each of Tiamat's five heads possessed. Crafted from enchanted gemstones: red garnet, green emerald, blue-lapis, white topaz, and black onyx.

Adorning the shaft of the Dragon's Staff were enchanting runes, meticulously etched with golden inlays. Legend held that these ancient symbols were inscribed in the primal language of dragons. When the weapon was grasped, the runes blazed with a fiery orange-red glow, as if pulsating with intense heat. But the staff's magic didn't stop there. The haft crackled with bolts of electricity, creating a mesmerizing spectacle. Larger arcs of lightning leapt between the dragon's outstretched wings, while smaller jolts danced along the length of the shaft. These electrifying forces could not only dazzle onlookers but also serve as formidable offensive strikes, unleashed from either end of the staff. The Dragon's Staff was a testament to the Sanguine Dragons' mastery of both craftsmanship and arcane power.

Extending his arm, Tiberius gently ran his taloned fingers along the length of the polearm. Feeling the smooth surface gliding beneath his scaled grasp brought back a myriad of memories.

Memories of the grueling, monotonous sessions to farm materials, of the long planning meetings, and of the incredible rush he felt when their collective efforts finally took shape.

It was probably the single biggest achievement in the history of the guild.

At the memories, a faint subconscious smile crept across his reptilian muzzle.

Yet as his gaze focused not on the item of meaning, but his golden-scaled hand, did his smile slip away. Again the cold reality of the situation figuratively slapped him in the face.

Pulling away from the guild weapon as it hovered within its alcove, Tiberius turned and moved down the short hall and to the door at its end. The door gave a small squeak of its hinges as he pushed it open.

Within the expansive bedroom, bathed in the enchanting glow of mage lights, an air of elegance permeated the space. The room boasted the same generous dimensions as the main area, offering a sense of grandeur and comfort.

As Tiberius stepped further into the room, his attention was drawn to a recessed nook on the left side. Its walls were adorned with floor-to-ceiling angled mirrors, artfully arranged to provide a captivating panoramic reflection of whatever stood before them. It was a unique touch, adding a touch of mystique and illusion to the space.

Not far from the mirrored alcove stood a towering wardrobe, a magnificent piece crafted from pale ash wood with brass hinges that gleamed in the ambient light. The surface of the wardrobe bore intricate scrollwork, forming an exquisite tapestry of spirals that added a touch of whimsy and artistry.

However, the standout feature of the bedroom was undoubtedly the ridiculously oversized bed.

This colossal sleeping haven defied traditional expectations, resembling less of a conventional mattress and more like a vast, plush cushion that dominated the room. Its surface rose proudly two feet above the floor, stretching almost the entire length and width of the bedroom. Strewn playfully across the expanse of the bed were an assortment of smaller pillows, each with its own unique pattern and colour. In place of traditional blankets, a collection of luxuriously soft-furred pelts added a touch of wild indulgence.

The sight of this extraordinary bed beckoned to Tiberius, promising rest and relaxation on an unparalleled scale. And with its cozy comforts the chance to forget his problems, to leave them for another time. To say that he was not tempted by this prospect would be a lie.

With a mix of curiosity and apprehension, the dragonoid approached the mirrored nook. He stood before the reflective surfaces, his gaze fixed upon his own reflection. There was a slight hesitance in his movements, as if he anticipated an unexpected sight or revelation. Tiberius braced himself, ready to confront the image staring back at him with a mixture of anticipation and uncertainty.

He stood before the mirrors, his gaze unflinchingly fixated on the reflection that stared back at him.

The visage that met his eyes was a familiar one as he examined it with keen scrutiny. This mirrored image revealed his distinct and prehistoric appearance. The reptilian features; from the fiery eyes to the rugged golden scales that adorned his self, were exactly as he had envisioned them when creating his YGGDRASIL avatar. He remained motionless, taking in the familiarity and affirmation that this was indeed the embodiment of his imagination which he had crafted twelve years ago.

With a mix of curiosity and trepidation, he extended his hand towards his own face, the palm gently pressing against the cool scales. The sensation sent a shiver down his spine, as if confirming the reality of his existence. It was a moment of self-discovery, a connection between the tangible and the imagined, as he grappled with the realization that the avatar he had created had now become his own tangible form.

He could feel the warmth of scaled flesh as he slowly dragged his hands along the length of his draconic muzzle. Taloned fingertips traced over every line and curve of his new appearance. The tips of daggerlike teeth grazed his palms as he explored the boundaries of his transformed lips. Reaching the apex of his snout Tiberius felt the heated gust of his own breath beat against his hand with every exhale.

With his hands held before him, it was now they that captured his attention. The dragonoid's fiery eyes fixated on the golden scales that sheathed his flesh. These were not the shield-shaped scales of a serpent. But more of the unique pebblelike surface that covered crocodilians in their coats of natural armour. He flexed his hand and watched enraptured as the scales shifted with the movement of underlying muscles. They seemed to almost shimmer under the light, a mesmerizing demonstration of formidable adaptability.

He marveled at the apparent difference on display. The back of his hand boasted larger stiffer scutes, providing enhanced protection. Meanwhile, the underside of his hand was still scale-covered but minuscule in comparison and with a texture more akin to a worn leather glove, ensuring nimble movements and unhindered dexterity.

And then there were the claws. His once flat human fingernails were replaced by formidable talons, extending two inches in length. These claws, firmly rooted in his scaled flesh, were a testament to his newfound strength and the primal nature of his draconic form.

As his hands fell away, Tiberius' gaze returned to his face.

In YGGDRASIL, no, all DMMO-RPGs for that matter, a character's facial appearance was fixed and unmoving. So whenever one player spoke to another, their expression would remain stagnant. Set in stone as it were, and instead, voice in combination with the use of emoticons would relay all needed information.

Even with the addition of later expansion packs which amongst their many add-ons were a few basic expressions for humanlike races. Though these expressions were truly little more than wearable emoticons with a quick change feature that allowed players to swap between them.

Deciding this was an easy place to begin with, the dragonoid experimentally began to move his facial muscles.

First, he arched one brow, then the other, and finally both together. Even performing a rakish wiggle. A playful dance of expressions followed, as he puckered his lips, lifted each side independently, before letting the corners of his mouth fall to form a disapproving frown that quickly transformed into an upward-curling smile.

Tiberius was awestruck by the capability for motion to be found in his reptilian appearance. This meant that intricate control still remained and with it the possibility for a wide range of emotions. However, his attempt at a warm smile still needed refinement, inadvertently resembling more of a snarl than a friendly grin.

Moving forwards, he practiced several more expressions. From shock and awe to fear and concern to simple joy. He watched them all as his reflection mimed the actions perfectly.

With continued fascination, the dragonoid leaned in, the end of his draconic muzzle mere inches from the mirrored glass. As he opened his mouth, thin strands of saliva clung to his upper and lower jaws, a bit like bridges of liquid rope.

His gaze was fixated on the dagger-like teeth that lined his gums, their ivory surface accentuated by the saliva's glistening sheen. The muscular tongue that lay nestled in his lower jaw also caught his attention, with its ribbed surface and a partial bifurcation at the tip, creating a forked appearance.

Curious, Tiberius manipulated the prehensile muscle, bringing it up from its resting place and running across his numerous fangs. Their bladelike edge felt even sharper than their fearsome countenance. Satisfied with his inspection, he pulled away from the now fog-covered mirror.

"This can't be real," he spoke with a nervous edge, "More tests, yes, that's it. I just need to do more tests."

But what?

His mind drew a blank on how to steer his course of action. Then it came to him, something he was embarrassed to admit he hadn't thought of before.

Why not log out?

Tiberius gave a rueful laugh.

With a well-practiced motion, he raised his arm, expecting to see the familiar in-game console appear. However, to his surprise, it didn't materialize. Confused, the dragonoid tried again and again, repeating the gesture multiple times, hoping to summon YGGDRASIL's player console. Each attempt became more desperate than the last, but still, nothing happened.

As his plan failed, another idea came to his mind.

"This must be a dream. Yes, that's it. It's all a dream, just gotta wake myself up."

Acting on this assumption, he brought both his hands up abruptly to deliver several light slaps to either side of his face.

"Come on. Wake up, wake up!"

Again and again, his hands clapped against the golden-scaled flesh of his draconic snout. For a minute straight the dragonoid recreated every scene ever, where some character would try to wake either themselves or another.

As the lack of success mounted, Tiberius' frustrations grew. The only result granted to him was the warmth spreading across either side of his face.

Desperation and agitation boiled over.

"Wake UP!" a snarl punctuated those words.

A golden-scaled hand lashed out, cutting through the air to deliver a strike to the side of his muzzle. However, in his frantic state, the force of the impact was far greater than any before it.

Pain erupted, spreading through the side of his face like wildfire, as his head was yanked forcefully to the left, throwing off his balance and leaving him to stagger helplessly. In a desperate attempt to regain his lost equilibrium, the dragonoid flailed his arms. By luck, Tiberius narrowly avoided a collision with one of the nook's mirrored panels.

Sluggishly, he turned, staring wide-eyed at the reflection that gazed back at him, shock and alarm etched across his draconic features.

The searing ache that radiated from the point of impact was not something that he had intended to suffer. But what troubled him more was the flavour that now spread across his tongue. It was tangy and metallic on his taste buds, like sucking on a greasy coin.

Acting on instinct, he brought a hand to his jaw and probed under his lips with his index and middle fingers. Slowly, deliberately, they were dragged along his gum line, he winced at the pain that came when even light pressure was applied to the place where the blow had landed.

He drew back his shaky hand and inspected his fingers under the light. There! Diluted amongst the glistening spittle was the tale-tell hint of scarlet.

Blood?! It can't be!

If this was a dream, then why could he feel pain?

Wouldn't he have woken before the pain had set in?

If he were still within YGGDRASIL, why then could he taste the blood?

No DMMO-RPG developer would put in the time and resources to recreate a sense of taste. Just as no player would wish to experience the agony of suffering a traumatic wound on the battlefield.

Disbelief be damned, it was clear as daylight. There was his answer staring him in the face.

It was an answer as simple as it was frightening.

Everything that had transpired since his awakening between himself and the guild's formerly passive NPCs was genuine. This was not a game, this was not pretend, this was the cold hard reality of the situation.

For the bewildered dragonoid, it felt as if time itself had frozen as he processed the truth of the impossibility.

"[Lord Tiberius?]"

The stillness of the moment was shattered and the startled dragonoid felt a jolt before falling over. He tumbled to the wooden floor where he lay sprawled out for the moment. He rose, feeling a dull ache in his wings, while his head swiveled about the room. His eyes roamed the space seeking out this mystery speaker.

A second time the voice called out to him.

"Huh? What?"

"[I am sorry to interrupt you, my lord. However, you had commanded me to inform you when the Valkyries had returned.]"

Tiberius' eyes widened in realization.

Yuliana, how?! Could it be the [Message] spell? Can she hear me now?

So he sat, waiting in silence for any response. However, as none came it brought him some small peace of mind.

"[My lord?]"

"Hmm… Yes, that's right," he nodded to no one, "Thank you, Yuliana."

"[It is my pleasure to be of service to you, master.]"

Her voice, as noted by Tiberius, held a certain level of cheerfulness which contrasted her earlier more fearful tones. Though he was glad to hear the more positive turn in her. It, however, only served as a reminder of his earlier actions.

"Yuliana, I…"

"[Yes?]"

"I, I…" Tiberius sighed, "I will talk with you when I arrive."

"[Understood. Will there be anything else?]"

"No, that will be all."

Tiberius remained as he was, seated on the ground, waiting for any further communications. When none came he took it as a sign that the magical connection had been broken. Rising from the floor, Tiberius again looked himself over in the mirror.

I guess I should go. But what am I supposed to do? I mean they obviously look to me as their leader. But this isn't planning some dungeon raid, or going over the guild's dailies.

As he felt the creeping doubt, the dragonoid shook his head, attempting to drive it back.

No! No point in dwelling on this. I've got to get a handle on this before I go crazy. Just take it one step at a time.

Closing his eyes, he began to settle himself by performing a basic breathing exercise. Focusing inwards, he shut out any outside influences and cleared his mind of any thoughts. Slowly he drew in a deep breath and exhaled, all while mentally keeping count. For several moments he repeated the process until he felt the tension fading from his body.

It was a technique he'd taken up sometime after receiving his first promotion. By this point in time, it had become nearly second nature to him. Most commonly he would make use of this practice when uncomfortable situations would prop up in the course of his work.

Finally, he reopened his eyes and locked stares with his mirror self. One last time he examined his appearance and with a nod of self-assurance, he turned away and left the room.

He moved through his quarters and to the front door. As the door opened, Tiberius was surprised by a familiar shape.

A little over two dozen feet out from the door was the looming figure of the Chief Attendant. The tall fae abomination's dark cloak hung close to his body, offering only a fleeting glimpse of the fashionable attire beneath. His glove-clad hands were held before him, clasped atop the jeweled robin that crowned his cane.

Given the NPC's unwavering stance, if the dragonoid hadn't known better he would not have been remiss to believe Mathias had returned to lifeless AI.

"I don't remember asking for anyone to accompany me," the dragonoid spoke stepping from the entrance of his abode and onto the Ninth Floor, "Just how long have you been standing out here?"

Mathias dipped into a deep bow.

"Do forgive my presumptuousness, my lord. However, to my eye, you appeared to be distressed not long ago. As Chief Attendant, I am to offer advice and aid to the Supreme Beings, should they require it. As such I would be negligent in my duties were I to ignore your apparent crisis."

The fae abomination's voice was rich, though seeming monotone in nature. His words held a subtle inflection and elegance that belied a refined charisma. In hearing him speak, Tiberius was reminded of a certain member of the guild.

So, the NPCs still seek to fulfill their duties and original purposes. But are they limited by it? Or can they do more? After all, Mathias came here of his own will. And the way he talks, it's just like Charming Rock. I wonder if the other NPCs have traits like their creators.

"I understand," the dragonoid nodded, "And your concern for my condition is most appreciated, Mathias. Though it would seem that I merely needed a moment to again regain my composure."

The fae abomination nodded, "Very good, sire. In a related matter, I trust that Lady Yuliana has similarly relayed to you the return of the Valkyries to the mountain?"

"Yes, she informed me a moment ago. Shall I then accompany you to the Throne Room?"

"No," the dragonoid shook his head, "You should go on ahead of me."

Mathias tilted his head, "May I ask what you will be doing in the meantime?"

"I mean to pay a visit to Nido in the Orrery Tower. Afterward, I will join you and the others."

Inclining his wolven skull, Mathias nodded in understanding prior to performing a heel turn. The sudden movement created a small flourish of his cloak before he retreated along the cobblestone street.

In wake of the other's departure, Tiberius turned back to the still-opened door behind him. Grasping the door handle, he pulled it shut, listening to the click, before giving the door a light push to ensure it was indeed properly secured. In removing his hand from the handle, Tiberius' eyes fell to the figure of the serpentine dragon coiled about his index finger.

The guild ring.

If the [Message] spell still works here then I wonder what else does. I wonder if teleportation would function. It would certainly be faster than walking all the way there.

Moving away from the stone keep, Tiberius stepped into the cobblestone street.

"So, if I did, how would this work? In YGGDRASIL, I just get the option to select my destination in the console. But I sincerely doubt it works that way here." The dragonoid scratched the back of his head in puzzlement, "I mean am I supposed to just think of the place or something?"

Thinking of this, Tiberius continued to gaze at the ring. In doing so, an odd sensation came over him. His stare intensified as he began to feel like he was being drawn to the ring as if it called to him, demanding more of his attention. So he obliged it, focusing solely on the trinket.

Then to his befuddlement, the gemstone held within the jaws of the little metal dragon began to glow.

What followed was a surreal sensation for the dragonoid, as if he existed both within and without his own body. As a profound connection with Týrnaust itself had been forged, granting him an innate sense of the teleportation nodes scattered throughout the mountain. These nodes manifested as swirling vortices of energy, visible to his perceptive eyes. As he scanned around, he could see these points beyond the walls, each vortex glowing brighter when his focus lingered on it. The intensity of the glow represented the strength of the pull it exerted, beckoning him to explore further.

Lifting his head, Tiberius turned his attention to the furthest of the swirls of energy.

Before his eyes, the trappings of the Ninth Floor were swallowed up by all-consuming darkness. Engulfed within this void, the dragonoid felt a moment of panic but it quickly fled with the world returned.

Gone was the cobblestone street, and missing were the numerous buildings with overhead the skybox of the Divine City. In its place was a corridor of white marble.

The hall was sixty feet in length and orientated north to south. On the southern end was a spiral staircase that led down to the Throne Room. To the north was another set of stairs which led up to the Orrery Tower which stood tall behind the Rotunda. Evenly spaced along the walls were ornate sconces filled with candles of silver wax. A magical blue flame danced atop each candle emitting a soft light.

The only remarkable feature to be seen was a set of doors.

The doors were made of ivory wood and etched with a winding vine motif. Around the doors, the stone had been carved to resemble a glorious rose and vine-covered archway. Behind these doors lay the Council Chamber, the place where the guild would meet to discuss their plans.

For a moment Tiberius stood absorbing what had just happened.

"It worked?" the dragonoid muttered, his voice filled with disbelief and enthusiasm, "I can't believe it, it worked!"

Turning to the south and then to the north, he began to walk.

o – o – o – o

At the summit of the staircase, a landing unfolded, reminiscent of the grand hall he had just departed, albeit in a more compact form. Here, a towering pair of doors, meticulously fashioned from gleaming brass, took center stage. Adorning these doors was an intricate pattern resembling a starry expanse, with a colossal central star that spanned the entire surface.

With purpose, Tiberius advanced and placed his palms upon the chilly metal. As he pushed, a distinct fracture line materialized, and the imposing star motif dramatically cleaved in two.

The Orrery, an expansive circular chamber, commanded attention with its towering domed ceiling. As eyes turned upward, they were met with a captivating sight – a deep midnight blue canvas adorned with an intricate tapestry of tiny twinkling lights. The illusion of a starry night sky was achieved through the presence of countless embedded diamonds, each one contributing to the celestial ambiance. And there, amidst the starry expanse, the constellations of YGGDRASIL's Asgardian realm emerged with breathtaking brilliance. The constellations, meticulously crafted from an array of precious gems, showcased a kaleidoscope of colors. Rubies, emeralds, sapphires, garnets, opals, and other gems adorned the ceiling, forming patterns that mirrored the celestial wonders. Adding to the enchantment, a magical spell imbued the constellations with the ability to shift and align with the changing seasons, a mesmerizing display of cosmic artistry.

In the Orrery's heart, a magnificent model of the World Tree, sculpted from pure electrum, stood tall and proud. From the towering branches of this masterful creation, nine crystalline globes dangled, each one representing a different realm within YGGDRASIL. Gazing closely at these globes, one could discern the unique topography of each represented realm, intricately modeled on the surface.

The Sanguine Dragons had not sculpted this marvel themselves; instead, they had acquired it for a hefty sum from the in-game auction house. This captivating centerpiece was no ordinary decoration, for it possessed a usefulness beyond simple visual allure. Its true value lay in the enchantment which it carried. It was a tracking spell that could be applied to nearly anything. Whether, a player, an NPC, or a creature, once the spell was applied a magic marker would appear on the corresponding globe, rendering this tree effigy into a magical GPS of sorts.

Tucked away on the western side of the Orrery was a small, enigmatic ancillary chamber. It appeared unassuming from the outside, hardly larger than a typical conference room. Yet, behind the heavy black curtains that served as a veil of mystery. A noteworthy sight greeted those fortunate enough to enter – a great round table made of char-blackened ironwood. Its surface bore the scars of a heated tumultuous past, charred and pitted, with glowing veins hinting at dormant embers that still lay within.

At the center of this mesmerizing tabletop stood a tall, scarlet-tinged onyx crystal cluster, cradled within a magnificent golden crown.

Known as a scrying crystal, this mystical artifact held far-reaching capabilities within. Once activated, its unleashed divination abilities were akin to the Mirror of Remote Viewing. However, unlike its mirror counterpart, the scrying crystal conjured a holographic projection of the scene being viewed. This crystal also excelled in its ability to capture both sight and sound. Something the Mirror of Remote Viewing lacked without additional enchantments being used.

As Tiberius stepped into the chamber, a soft, resonant hum filled the air. His sharp eyes scanned the room, searching for the seemingly elusive inhabitant of The Orrery.

"Nido?"

Tiberius' voice rang out across the room and returned to him with just as much resonance. Before worrying about the absent NPC had an opportunity to truly settle in, he received a response to his summons.

As the echo of his words faded came the sounds of footsteps, each step was punctuated by a sharp tap.

Emerging from behind the heavy curtain came the Keeper of the Orrery.

Nido Grimnir Rethaflla was an NPC whose appearance was somewhat at odds with his station.

Possessing a lean yet muscular physique, he bore a warrior's presence of strength and resilience. His dark, windswept hair cascaded to his shoulders, streaked with hints of grey. Particularly at the roots. Nido's visage was that of middling years, though still possessing a youthful vigor that belied the aged weariness etched upon his face. An effect amplified by the dark stubble that adorned his rugged jawline. But it was the brilliant piercing blue of Nido's left eye. For the right was naught but an empty socket concealed beneath a golden eyepatch affixed to his flesh. Engraved on this was the lemniscate, a symbol for infinite potential. Encircling the vacant socket was a Celtic knot tattoo which added an air of mysticism, though the once black ink had faded with time. It still possessed enough pigment to contrast the fairness of his complexion.

The Orrery Keeper's attire was equally out of place, more befitting of a practiced warrior.

Trousers of midnight blue adorned his lower body, while a soft white sleeveless tunic provided a comfortable underlayer for the armour. Encasing his torso was a chestplate of polished gold and bronze. Intricate Norse runes inlaid with silver decorated the metal, particularly around the stylized discs that were affixed to the area of the shoulder joint. This same metal blend was also on his boots offering sturdy protection for his feet. Around his waist, a wide rough leather belt with riveted studs at equal intervals held the tasseted skirt made of white and golden silk. To shield his forearms, Nido wore vambraces of dark steel –these too were engraved with silver runes. Finally, a magnificent cape –fashioned from the white fur of a giant frost wolf and with a neckline rimmed with raven feathers- draped from his broad shoulders. The interior of the cape was abysmally dark, dotted with a multitude of tiny pinpricks and swirls of light that formed a dazzling display of ever-shifting constellations and other stellar phenomena.

With him, Nido carried a simple walking stick which tapped the stone floor with every step. A staff hewn from the slightly warped branch of an ironwood. Devoid of bark, its surface -though unpolished- was worn smooth enough to possess a subtle sheen under the light. Its crown was like a twisting flame frozen in wood and through small gaps in its form, a pale crystal could be seen within.

"I am here, your lordship," the deva answered. His voice was gravelly in tone, commanding in presence, and yet warm and welcoming as if speaking to an old friend.

Coming to a stand before the dragonoid, Nido lowered himself to one knee and bowed with a flourished outwards sweep of his left arm, staff held parallel to the floor.

Tiberius stood, head inclined as he stared down at the being knelt before him. For so long he remained unwavering in his positioning that it only occurred to the dragonoid to acknowledge him.

"Oh yes, you may stand."

With effortless grace, the deva rose from his crouched position. Returned to his full height, his ironwood staff held before him and his hands gripping it tightly.

"And how may I be of service to you today, Lord Tiberius?"

"Nido, I have come to ask for your aid in a specific task," turning away from the tall NPC, Tiberius looked toward the sculpture of the World Tree at the heart of the Orrery, "I would like you to ascertain the current location of Týrnaust."

In response, the middle-aged man cocked his head, his weathered face taking on a look of puzzlement. However, the moment passed quickly enough, and without hesitation, he turned and strode forwards to stand before the electrum tree.

For a moment he was motionless then raised his cane. The gemstone within the spiral of wood atop the staff began to glow with ruby light. With the staff in hand, Nido gestured to one of the nine orbs that hung from the spindly branches. As if accepting the unspoken command, the silver sphere shuddered and rose from its perch then began a slow descent to the deva.

Tiberius watched as the globe came to hover a few feet in front of the cloaked master of the Orrery.

The silver orb hung motionless twenty inches off the ground. Its shimmering surface etched with an intricate tapestry, a depiction of the Asgardian realm. Here, every contour of the land was painstakingly carved into the metallic exterior.

The sprawling coastlines, kissed by the restless seas, unfurled like lace along the edges of the landforms. Sinuous rivers traced their serpentine journeys from lofty mountains to tranquil lakes, forming a crisscrossed network of life-giving arteries. Delving deeper, one could marvel at the sprawling, untamed forests that clothed the wild lands. The landmarks of the various cities, and the ominous dungeons that lurked in the shadows, were all under the control of non-player characters.

Yet, it was not only the natural wonders and man-made structures that adorned the globe. It also held secrets of adventurers and their guilds, for it revealed the concealed locations of known rival guild bases.

Every detail, painstakingly etched, breathed life into this miniature world, serving as a dazzling example of artistry and precision.

Nido lowered his arm, allowing his right hand to rest upon the staff. He extended his left hand toward the orb. The guardian's brow knitted tightly, his one good eye gazing intently at the globe in his search for answers.

At first, the orb spun left to right, then it reversed spinning right to left. The rotation slowed as the globe began to spin north to south. All the while Nido stood in silence, his head inclined and cocked to the side in tale-tell bafflement.

Seeing this Tiberius circled around to stand opposite the deva, the silver globe hovering between them.

"Is there something wrong?" he asked.

Lifting his head, the Orrery Keeper looked to the dragonoid with a solemn expression, "I am afraid to say that there does seem to be an issue. I am unable to pinpoint the precise location of Týrnaust anywhere within the Asgardian realm." A hand rose to stroke his stubble-laden jawline, "Most peculiar."

Tiberius lowered his gaze to the globe, "So my assumption is true."

Again, the befuddled deva cocked his head at his master's muttering, "My lord, if I may ask. To what is it you are referring?"

Tiberius shifted, lifting his gaze to the waiting NPC, "I shall explain shortly. For now, head down to the Throne Room and wait with the others."

"Of course."

Nido's gaze momentarily flickered again –a blink, perhaps- then he nodded. Raising his staff, he repeated his earlier gesture to the metallic ball. In response, the silvery globe rose and traversed the air before once again returning to its perch upon the limb of the World Tree replica.

The dragonoid remained as he was, watching as the Premier Diviner strode away, his staff tapping lightly.

When the doors had shut and the footsteps of the dome's NPC inhabitant had faded from earshot, Tiberius released a heavy pent-up sigh.

"So, I guess it really is true," he turned to glance at the metallic mock-up of the world tree and the nine silver orbs on its branches, "This isn't some kind of beta test for a sequel. And YGGDRASIL itself hasn't come to life. Somehow we've all been transported to another world. And if all this isn't living proof," a scaled hand gestured to the room in which he stood, "I'd swear I'd lost my damn mind."

The most poignant of these truths he could still taste upon his tongue. Subconsciously, he ran his tongue along his gum line, finding he could still taste the hint of blood quite sharply. As again the slow creep of some distant existential dread.

"No, I need to focus," Tiberius shook his head, attempting to clear his mind, "First things first, I need to take stock of the situation. The NPCs don't seem to think that anything is out of the ordinary. Even Nido seemed to find the fact the mountain wasn't in Asgard anymore surprising."

The dragonoid paused.

"Could he have been faking it? Or do they really think they've been alive for the last ten years?"

In pursuit of the thoughts that sprung forth from this newly tapped vein, he recalled all his recent interactions.

The soothing words of greeting, Yuliana had offered him upon awakening. The utter confusion and even fear she had shown him. The surprising response of the nymph caretaker, Blue, had given in their accidental meeting. Then there was Mathias and his choice to follow without express commands to do so. Even the brief talk with the Orrery's Keeper. All had behaved in such a detailed manner that no current AI could truly fake.

"So then the question becomes one of whether I should tell them the truth? That all they knew was a lie, just a part of a virtual game that I and others played. That they were created just for fun?"

Tiberius imagined a number of ways he could broach the topic. But the unknowns of the situation didn't sit right with him.

"No, I won't tell them that. Even if they were created just to enrich our experience in the game, they're alive now." The dragonoid gave a gruff chuckle, "Besides who knows what kind of damage that knowledge could do to them? The last thing I need is for it to drive them away. Or crazy. Or worse… What if they turned against me out of contempt for their makers? After all, I doubt many people would react well if their deity came down to tell them that their whole life was just a game to them."

With a pensive sigh, Tiberius turned his eye to the bronze-coloured doors, knowing what was waiting for him beyond. He closed his flame-coloured eyes and drew in several slow breaths. Then reopened them, squared his shoulders, and strode forward.

o – o – o – o

The atmosphere of the Throne Room was dominated by a feeling of foreboding.

Yuliana had felt since the first words her master had spoken aloud, and his subsequent fleeing of the Throne Room. But worse yet was when he had left her standing upon Týrnaust's great balcony.

Now that feeling hung over all like a smothering blanket. As she looked over the faces of her fellows, she could see it present in their features. However, there were those who were more adapted to hiding their emotions than others.

The paramount amongst them was the Chief Attendant, Mathias. Since his return to the Throne Room, the fae abomination had retaken his place on the throne dais. Unfortunately for her, his fleshless face remained as stoic as ever, betraying none of his inner thoughts. However, Yuliana could feel it on him. While his exterior showed little, inside he was just as troubled by their master's recent behaviour.

While on the opposite end of the scale, others were far more open about their troubled thoughts.

Little Kip was a prime example of this.

The kobold's body language was rife with his inner turmoil as his actions broadcast his anxiety for all to read. The diminutive reptile shifted nervously from one foot to the other while wringing his hands. As he fidgeted, those wide silver catlike eyes of his continuously scanned the room around him as if seeking out some unseen threat.

He too stood upon the throne platform, perhaps attempting to find a sense of comfort he had taken up the position near Mathias. Although, this didn't seem to be helping much.

Pivoting, Yuliana turned her gaze to the freshly returned Valkyries.

The group of female warriors were huddled together, busily talking amongst themselves. From her place near the dais, the Guardian Overseer was unable to grasp the full depth of the subject matter. Occasionally she would overhear a word or two, but that was all.

Though if the truth were told, she wasn't fully paying attention to them. After all, there were more important matters than eavesdropping.

As for herself, Yuliana wore the mask of her station.

As the Guardian Overseer, the others would look to her for guidance in troubled times. This meant she could not afford to allow her personal feelings to interfere with her duties. However, currently, even she was having a difficult time keeping a handle on the situation.

All the while she did her best to puzzle out the source behind the master's strange behavior.

What had prompted his cryptic words after he had awakened on the throne? Then there was the excursion he'd ordered the Valkyries to carry out and placing the mountain on the highest alert. All before venturing to his quarters and with no further communication until she had made contact almost fifteen minutes later.

As she thought about it, Yuliana was incapable of formulating an adequate answer with which to explain away these things. This caused a tight knot to form in the pit of her stomach. An uncomfortable feeling she would have to deal with until an answer presented itself. Something that she hoped with the return of the Valkyries would reveal itself soon.

Dragging her back from sinking further into these troubled thoughts was the arrival of another of Týrnaust's residents to the Throne Room. Stepping out of the shadows of the side passage was the Orrery's Keeper.

The stoic deva stood quietly to the side of the elegant chamber. His head swiveled slowly as he surveyed the room in which he found himself. Not a surprising action to take for one who had never set foot within its confines.

With Nido's unexpected appearance, new questions were spawned.

Why the sudden change? For what reason would he have to come down from his tower? Was it perhaps in some way related to the recent happenings?

Determined to discover the meaning behind this descent, and if he could perchance provide her any insight into the situation. Yuliana descended the throne platform and made her way to the newcomer.

"Greetings, Nido," the Guardian Overseer curtseyed briefly, presenting a formal greeting to the other, "I trust you are well."

"Ah, my lady," the Orrery Keeper bent at the waist and held his staff to the side, "Indeed, I am doing quite well actually. I thank you for your concerns."

Yuliana offered a small smile, "I don't believe you've set foot within the Throne Room before. May I inquire as to what it is that brings you down from the Orrery?"

"Certainly, I am here because the master has given me leave to await him here."

Hearing this statement, Yuliana's face betrayed her surprise and interest. Her eyes widened by a perceivable margin. But only for a moment before the mask of reservation descended once more. This, in turn, prompted the Guardian Overseer to inquire

Silence settled between the two, as Yuliana withdrew to consider the caretaker's news. However, his continued words were not lost on her as she listened.

To learn that it was the master's visitation that had prompted Nido to leave his tower behind. This, in turn, brought forth the pressing question: What reason could've compelled the master to require the talents of the Premier Diviner?

Pulling herself back to the present, Yuliana met the gaze of Nido's singular good blue eye. "Nido, may I ask, are you permitted to share the nature of the conversation which you and Lord Tiberius shared?"

"Of course, the matter was a trifling one. The master merely asked me to ascertain the position of Týrnaust within the world. And though I must admit his request was most perplexing. As surely the master would know the mountain to dwell within the Whitewyrm Steppe Mountains in the realm of Asgard as it always had."

The distinguished deva hesitated in continuing, instead, he lowered his head in perceived shame, his grip tightening on his staff. When he spoke once again, his tone had taken over by a melancholy quality.

"It shames me deeply to admit. But I have failed to provide Lord Tiberius with an answer to his most simple of questions. For when I attempted to fulfill his request, I wasn't able to correlate the mountain's location to known records." Nido raised his arm and ran a hand through his swept-back hair, "It is most peculiar. Almost as if the mountain no longer resides where it otherwise should. Yes, most peculiar indeed."

And there it was.

From the lips of the Orrery Keeper had come the first and perhaps most vital of clues. It seemed that her earlier inclinations were correct, Nido had indeed brought her the understanding which she had been seeking.

Was this the dilemma that had so troubled the Supreme One? Had something happened to their mountain home? Did some event transpire and go by completely unnoticed by herself and her fellow Guardians?

If that were true then it was only Lord Tiberius who had been solely aware of the change.

Yes, this must be the answer, it explains everything! Why he sent the Valkyries away to scout the lands and his sudden departure for his chambers. He must have been conducting some investigation into this situation. Before going to Nido and having him make use of his skills to confirm his suspicions.

It all fit together like the final piece of a greater puzzle sliding into place.

However, whereas others may have felt elation, or at least a sense of peace, at the solving of such a troubling mystery. Yet it continued to elude her and instead, she felt a new wave of dismay that accompanied a new revelation.

They all had failed.

As Guardians, their duty… no, their very purpose, was for the protection of Týrnaust and of Supreme Beings who ruled within. To have failed so truly in that duty as to have such an event occur and go by completely unnoticed. Such a thought sent a chill down Yuliana's spine.

What if their failure had placed the mountain in jeopardy? What if their inaction had invited harm to befall the sole Creator who yet remained with them?

This was completely unacceptable.

This knowledge had cut through her pride and struck at the very core of her being like a dagger to the heart. From this wounding, fresh fear seeped like poison to spread throughout her body. As the metaphorical toxin pervaded her mind, her thoughts became near-rampant what-ifs. Each scenario builds upon the last to sting her again.

Forcing herself to maintain composure, Yuliana smiled at the Orrery Keeper and turned away. With a languished pace, she began to retrace her path back to the throne platform.

Along the way, the Guardian Overseer's thoughts turned to the others. From her fellow Floor Guardians to the Valkyries. The truth of the situation had yet to reach them and she was not looking forward to the time when they would learn of it. Though a small part of her did wonder just how they would handle this news.

Yuliana had nearly reached the halfway point in her journey when her focus was taken away. Echoing through the Throne Room came the sounds of footsteps. Steady and rhythmic in their approach. Each step was punctuated by a metallic jingle.

Those present with sensitive hearing could perceive the underlying clacks of claws accompanying every step.

At once the eyes of all those gathered within the great chamber were drawn to the side passage.