"Hey, Myst."
Magnus lazily called out to the mysterious voice, barely lifting his head from where he lounged on his throne. His posture was as effortless as ever—one leg draped over the armrest, his body slouched deep into the cushioned seat. Across the room, Bob was busy scrubbing the walls near the massive doors, his slow and steady movements filling the silence. Magnus watched him idly, more out of boredom than any real concern for cleanliness.
A brief pause. Then, the voice finally responded, its usual ethereal tone laced with mild irritation.
[Spe— No. Wait. Why are you calling me "Myst"?]
Magnus smirked, shifting just enough to get comfortable again. "What? You never told me your name." He yawned, stretching an arm before letting it flop back down. "Now that I think about it... I don't know much about you at all." His brows furrowed slightly. "Wh— No. Actually, scratch that. What are you?"
The voice remained silent for a moment, as if considering the question—or deciding whether it even wanted to answer.
[...What am I?]
The voice—Myst—repeated Magnus's question as if amused by his sudden curiosity. The pause stretched just long enough for Magnus to consider dropping the conversation altogether. But then, Myst finally spoke again.
[I am a constellation.]
Magnus raised an eyebrow. "A constellation? Like those little twinkly dots in the sky?"
[Not quite.]
The air in the throne room grew heavy, not in a threatening way, but with an almost tangible presence. Magnus felt something beyond his usual laziness pulling at his mind, urging him to listen.
[A constellation is more than just a collection of stars. We are entities that exist beyond the physical world, bound to the grand tapestry of existence. Each of us represents something—an ideal, a story, a force that we embody. And in return, we watch over those who walk the paths we have set.]
Magnus blinked, tilting his head. "So you're saying you're some cosmic overseer? Like, sitting up there in space, watching people mess around?"
[In a way. But more than that, we bestow power upon those who intrigue us. Some mortals catch our interest—through talent, fate, or sheer recklessness—and we grant them strength in exchange for... entertainment.]
Magnus narrowed his eyes slightly. "Entertainment, huh? Sounds like you're just treating people like toys."
Myst chuckled, a sound that echoed through the chamber like a distant wind.
[Some do. Others guide their chosen, shaping them into legends. It depends on the constellation. Some bestow knowledge, others power, and some simply watch, never interfering.]
Magnus tapped a finger against the armrest. "So which one are you?"
[...That is for you to find out.]
"Figures," Magnus muttered, shaking his head. "Alright, Myst. If you're a constellation, then what do you represent?"
Myst's response came, soft yet vast, as if spoken from a place beyond time itself.
[Dream.]
Magnus blinked. His amusement faded slightly as he processed the word.
"Dream?" he repeated. "Like… sleeping and imagining weird stuff?"
[Not quite,] Myst said, its voice carrying a strange weight. [Dreams are more than fleeting illusions of the mind. They are possibilities. Visions of what could be, what has been, and what never was. A dream is the bridge between reality and the infinite. It is the realm of creation and chaos, of ambition and madness.]
Magnus tilted his head, intrigued despite himself. "So you're saying you're some kind of cosmic storyteller?"
[If you wish to put it simply, yes. I am one who watches over the dreams of mortals, shaping and guiding them. Some dreams inspire. Others consume. I have seen empires rise from nothing but a single vision… and I have watched them crumble under the weight of their own ambition.]
Magnus let that sink in. He wasn't the type to get philosophical, but something about Myst's words resonated with him in a way he couldn't quite place.
"So," he said, stretching out his arms, "that means you've been watching me too, huh?"
[Of course.]
Magnus smirked. "And? What kind of dream am-".
Suddenly bob called out to magnus and asked him a question that shouldn't be asked in a comic,
"Who are you talking with, my lord?" Bob had adapted to magnus and was not scared of him. well, at least, a little bit.
Magnus froze mid-sentence, his smirk faltering for just a second. His gaze flicked toward Bob, who had momentarily stopped scrubbing the wall to glance at him, bucket in one hand, rag in the other.
Bob's face was unreadable, but the question hung in the air like an unwelcome guest.
Magnus stared.
Bob stared back.
A beat of silence passed.
Then, Magnus casually leaned back into his throne, throwing his arms behind his head. "No one," he said smoothly. "Just talking to myself."
Bob squinted. "That—" He hesitated. "That didn't sound like talking to yourself, my lord."
Magnus shrugged. "That's because you were eavesdropping on a very intellectual conversation. Maybe if you focused more on scrubbing and less on spying, you wouldn't have to hear things that don't concern you."
Bob frowned, clearly debating whether he should push further.
Meanwhile, Myst's voice echoed in Magnus's mind, carrying an amused hum.
[Your servant is perceptive.]
Magnus internally sighed. Yeah, great. Just what I need.
Bob took a deep breath, seemingly choosing his words carefully. "I... see." His grip on the rag tightened slightly. "Then... if I may ask another question, my lord—who is 'Myst'?"
Magnus blinked.
Bob blinked.
Myst chuckled.
Magnus exhaled sharply and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Bob."
"Yes, my lord?"
"You ask too many questions."
Bob opened his mouth, then closed it. He gave a slow nod. "Understood, my lord." And with that, he turned back to the wall and resumed scrubbing, though Magnus could tell he was still thinking about it.
Myst, meanwhile, sounded far too entertained.
[He is more insightful than I expected.]
"By the way, bob. When's that elf completing with the tea, it's been half an hour.".
Bob kept scrubbing, his expression neutral. "It's been ten minutes, my lord."
Magnus clicked his tongue. "Tch. Time moves too slow when I'm waiting for tea."
As if on cue, the massive doors creaked open, and soft footsteps approached. The scent of fresh tea drifted through the air before the elf girl came into view, carrying a tray with a steaming cup.
She walked with practiced grace, her expression calm as she approached the throne. "My lord," she said, bowing slightly, "your tea."
Magnus accepted it without moving much, only tilting his head in acknowledgment. "Took you long enough." He took a sip, his eyes half-lidded in satisfaction. "woah! It's good. It's as if you know exactly how I like my tea."
The elf girl hesitated for a moment before speaking again. "A-Ah.. Yes. Well, I should introduce my—"
Before she could finish, Bob, still scrubbing the wall, casually cut in. "Lemme guess, it's something like Renaya " He stated it without a second thought.
The elf girl froze.
The tray in her hands trembled slightly, and for the first time, her composed expression cracked. Her gaze snapped to Bob, wide with shock, like she had just seen a ghost.
Magnus, mid-sip, raised an eyebrow. "Huh?"
The elf girl took a sharp breath, barely managing to catch herself before blurting out, "Did you also regre—" She stopped abruptly, her jaw clamping and suddenly changed the subject "H-how did you know.."
Bob's scrubbing hand slowed for just a second. He blinked.
"…Wait." He turned his head slightly, glancing at the elf girl. "That actually was your name?"
The elf girl didn't respond. She just stood there, gripping the tray a little too tightly.
Bob stared at her, then at Magnus, then back at her. He squinted. "I was just messing around."
Magnus took another sip of tea, unfazed. "Congrats. You guessed right."
Bob's frown deepened. He opened his mouth like he was about to say something else, but then he just shook his head and went back to scrubbing. "Man, I don't get paid enough for this."
The elf girl inhaled sharply, then exhaled, smoothing her expression. "…I'll be taking my leave." She turned around and walked off, posture stiff.
Bob side-eyed Magnus. "You sure she's okay?"
Magnus shrugged. "Dunno. Not my problem. Though it's a good thing but it's still suspicious that she agreed to serve this easily, as if she has known me for years."
Bob nodded slowly, his scrubbing slowing as he mulled over Magnus's words. "Yeah… that is weird." He glanced toward the door where the elf girl—Renaya?—had just exited. "You think she's up to something?"
Magnus leaned back, his eyes drifting toward the ceiling. "Maybe. Or maybe she just knows good tea is the fastest way to my heart." He took another sip, savoring the taste. "Either way, if she tries anything, I'll deal with it."
Bob wasn't convinced. "You sure? You're not exactly the 'deal with things' kind of guy."
Magnus smirked lazily. "That's where you're wrong, Bob. I deal with things… eventually."
Myst chuckled in his mind. [Your patience is remarkable, truly. But I wonder—will waiting be enough this time?]
Magnus ignored the voice, more interested in the warmth of his tea. Bob, however, still looked bothered.
"…I don't like it," Bob muttered under his breath. "She flinched when I said her name, like I hit some kind of nerve."
Magnus rolled his wrist lazily. "Or maybe she's just a little jumpy."
Bob narrowed his eyes. "Or maybe she knows something we don't."
The air in the room felt heavier for a moment, a silence settling between them.
Then Magnus sighed. "Alright, alright. If it makes you feel better, I'll keep an eye on her." He drained the rest of his tea and set the cup down with a soft clink. "But right now, I'm more concerned about getting a second cup."
Bob exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. "Of course you are."
Meanwhile, down the hall, the elf girl walked with steady steps, her hands clenched into fists at her sides.
"Did you also regre—"
She swallowed hard. She had almost said it. Almost revealed too much.
Bob knowing her name wasn't a coincidence. It couldn't be.
Something was very wrong.
Well, whatever.
Magnus exhaled, slouching even deeper into his throne. "Alright, Myst. Now that my system isn't acting like a broken toaster, how about you finally tell me what my powers actually do?"
Myst's voice hummed in amusement. [Ah, so now you're interested?]
Magnus waved a lazy hand. "Yeah, yeah. I figured knowing what I can actually do might be, y'know, slightly useful."
[Very well.]
A soft chime echoed in Magnus's mind, and his system screen flickered to life in front of him.
---
[System]
[Welcome back]
[Title: Demon King of Sloth]
[Status: kinda happy, healthy.]
[Power Level: Beyond Measure (I don't wanna measure)]
[Stats: Wanna check?]
[Abilities: Wanna?]
[Summon Minion: Cooldown (72:37:56)]
---
Magnus stared at the screen. "Still looks as unserious as ever. Are you seducing me to click the stats and abilities?"
[Who knows?]
Magnus clicked his tongue. "Fine. Let's see what kind of nonsense my abilities are packing." He lazily raised a finger and tapped on [Abilities] with the same enthusiasm as a man swiping through a boring news feed.
The screen flickered again, and a new list popped up.
---
[Abilities]
Absolute Stillness – The world can move, but you won't. Unless you want to.
Weight of Sloth – The longer you stay in one place, the heavier your presence becomes.
Lethargy Field – Ever seen an energetic person suddenly lose motivation? That's you now, but in an area.
Sloth's Patience – Why act now when you can delay? Store actions and unleash them whenever you want.
Delayed Action – Your attacks can be postponed. Imagine punching someone, then they feel it five minutes later.
Forced Stillness – You think moving is a choice? Not anymore.
Hibernation – Go to sleep and come back stronger. That's it.
Sloth's Steal – Why learn skills when you can just… take them?
---
Magnus blinked, rubbing his chin. "That's cool, but why are 'you' the one explaining? What do you mean "imagine punching someone, then they feel it five minutes later?" Are you serious?"
[Examples are the best explanation.]
"Whatever, open the stats.".
---
[Stats]
[Strength: ??] (Too lazy to measure)
[Endurance: ??] (Not like anything can hurt me)
[Agility: ??] (Moving is such a hassle)
[Magic: ??] (Why would I need to cast anything myself?)
[Luck: S+++] (It just works)
---
Magnus stared at the screen, expression blank. He slowly dragged a hand down his face. "...Myst."
[Yes?]
"Why does my stat screen look like a joke?"
[It is not a joke. It is an accurate representation of your capabilities.]
Magnus sighed. "You're seriously telling me that my stats are so broken that the system doesn't even bother measuring them?"
[Correct.]
Bob, who had stopped scrubbing and was now peeking over Magnus's shoulder, frowned. "Huh. That explains why you never actually do anything but still win."
Magnus got a little shocked and asked bob "You can see this hologram?"
"Holo..what? I don't know what that is, but I do see a floating sheet of blue translucent paper with words written."
Magnus raised an eyebrow. "Huh. So it's not just in my head."
Bob crossed his arms. "Did you seriously think you were hallucinating this whole time?"
Magnus shrugged. "Wouldn't be the first time weird stuff popped up in my vision." He turned back to the screen. "Myst, is this normal? Can anyone see my stats?"
[No. Only those you allow may perceive the system interface.]
Magnus glanced at Bob. "And I allowed him?"
[You did not.]
Magnus and Bob exchanged looks.
Bob slowly stepped back. "Uh, should I not be able to see this?"
Magnus rubbed his chin. "You definitely shouldn't." He narrowed his eyes. "Bob, are you secretly some kind of chosen one?"
Bob scoffed. "Chosen for what? Cleaning floors?"
"Whatever.".
Bob again asked a question he has previously asked.
"Why are you talking to yourself? You keep poking at the ceiling at talking to some *myst*"
"You don't need to know. if you can't hear her voice, then don't try to understand it."
[....How do you know I am a female?]
"Your personality." Magnus replied without hesitation.
Bob was once again thinking to himself. *'Again. He must not be sane after all.'*