This wasn’t a weapon blueprint. This was an architectural diagram—a piece of armor. More precisely, a shoulder guard bearing an intricate design, tendril patterns like merged roots and horns, with a large gem set in the center. The listed materials: Obsidian Shard from Heart of the Mountain, Soul-Silver from Moonwell, Blood Ruby from Demon Heart...
And in the corner, titled in ancient letters now almost faded.
"Regalia of the Uncrowned Sovereign - Pauldron Fragment"
Aldric stared at Nyxaria, his gray eyes now grave. "I found this years ago, in the ruins of an ancient city on the Underrealm border. Not complete. Only pieces. But its design..." He pointed to the horn pattern in the drawing. "Similar. Very similar."
Nyxaria was silent. Inside, Mara felt her heart—or whatever functioned as a heart now—pounding harder.
Aldric lowered his voice to a heavy whisper only the two of them could hear in the warm, silent room.
"Queen Nyxaria..." he said, that name spoken with full historical weight, not fear. "I once saw that name in ancient blueprints. Not as Catastrophe. Not as monster. But as... an unfinished entity."
He stared into Nyxaria's ruby red eyes, and for the first time, there was something besides analysis in his gaze—sympathy, or perhaps recognition.
"There's something I want to show you."
That sentence hung in the warm workshop air, heavier than the anvil hammer that had already cooled. Nyxaria didn't move. Inside, Mara felt a sharp pulse of focus—gamer instinct scenting a hidden quest, a piece of lore that shouldn't exist. Blueprint for unfinished armor. For me?
Aldric took another parchment scroll from the wooden chest. Older. More fragile. Its paper yellowed like preserved autumn leaves, edges tattered and stained brown like rust—or blood dried for centuries. He spread it on the work table, carefully holding the corners with his calloused hands.
This wasn’t an ordinary technical diagram.
This was art.
The drawing was rendered in thick black ink and gilt that had faded. A complete set of armor—not an intimidating design bristling with thorns and skulls like those worn by stereotypical Demon Lords. This was elegant. Similar to the design Nyxaria already wore, but more... complete. More perfect. Shoulder guards with intricate embroidery of merged roots and horns. Chestplate etched with star constellation patterns that felt strangely familiar. Gauntlets with flexible joints formed of thin obsidian layers alternating with pale metal like moon bone. Helmet with an openable visor, framing the face rather than hiding it.
And at the top, in ancient letters that curved like underground rivers, written:
"Regalia of the Uncrowned Sovereign — Conceptual Blueprint (Fragment 1/?)"
Below it, a material list that made Mara—no stranger to god-level raid loot tables—gasp.
"Primary Core: Heart of a Fallen Star (Unbound)Pauldrons: Petrified Tears of a Primordial TitanGauntlets: Scales from the First Void-DrakeGreaves: Roots of the World Tree, dipped in Eclipse ShadowChestplate: Forged from a Fragment of the 'Silent Moon'Visor: Lens carved from a solidified Memory of Dawn... and so on."
The materials weren't just rare. They read like myths within myths. Items that never even appeared in the Aeternum wiki, never featured in any known player quest chain.
"Where did you get this?" Nyxaria's voice came out flat, but with a sharp edge beneath.
Aldric released a long sigh, his voice dusty as a forgotten cellar. "Ruins of an ancient city, far on the abandoned Underrealm border. Once, on a journey seeking materials for Sunfang. I got lost in a stone labyrinth that seemed to... breathe. Drinking the light. In the deepest chamber, there stood an altar. No god I recognized. Only a statue of a woman with broken horns and drooping wings, carved from stone that felt warm. This scroll lay in her lap. Swathed in cloth that crumbled at my touch."
His finger brushed the edge of the pauldron drawing. "I didn't understand all its language. But some words... 'Uncrowned Sovereign'. 'She who was promised, but never ascended'. 'The Queen whose throne was etched in prophecy, yet her crown was melted into bullets'." He raised his eyes. "I asked old historians, idolaters who still worship gods from before the Church of Light. They called it a legend of the first Demon Queen. Not a monster. Not a catastrophe. But something meant to lead, to unify something fragmented. But war came. Betrayal. And her design—" he tapped the blueprint, "—was never finished. The materials scattered, lost, or deliberately destroyed."
The Queen who was promised but never ascended. Those words echoed inside Mara's head like a hammer striking an empty gong. I'm just a trapped player. Not part of such deep lore. Unless...
Unless the system placed her here not at random.
Unless there was a reason she, Mara Vex, who deleted her character, awoke precisely as Nyxaria.
"Why didn't the system purge this data?" Nyxaria asked. "If this is a pre-launch artifact, it should have been scrubbed like the others."
"Because perhaps this isn't system data," Lumi whispered suddenly.
All eyes turned to the child. Lumi had approached without a sound, her heterochromatic eyes—one gold, one gray—fixed on the blueprint. She wasn't looking at the drawing. She was looking through the paper. "There are... many colors. But tangled. Like threads torn from a larger fabric. And there are traces... same as the glowing box in the forest. Old. And sad."
[System Feedback]
Anomalous Data Pattern Detected: Legendary Blueprint - 'Regalia of the Uncrowned Sovereign'.
Data Integrity: Corrupted/Fragmented.
Origin: Pre-Cataclysm Archive (Inaccessible).
Registry Attempt: ... Failed. Insufficient Permissions.
That notification appeared in Mara's field of view, cold and bureaucratic. Failed to register. Insufficient permissions. The system didn't acknowledge it as a valid item, but also didn't deny it. Just... confounded.
"So this is real," Seris said, who had approached with careful steps. Her sharp eyes swept over the material list. "But the materials... Heart of a Fallen Star? That exists only in bedtime tales for elf children."
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
"Or," Lazarus spoke, his usual dramatic flair subsiding into a serious murmur, "they exist in places forgotten by time and the system. The Aeternum world is vast, My Lord. Vaster than the maps known to players. There are gaps... remnants from before this world became a game."
Mara felt a strange tremor in her chest—not fear, but simmering disquiet. This was no longer about survival or revenge. This was a puzzle of daunting scale. Who exactly was Nyxaria? Why was there armor designed specifically for her that was never finished? What was this 'promise'?
"You said this is Fragment one," Nyxaria said to Aldric. "Are there more?"
"Not in that chest," Aldric answered. "But a designer's logic says yes. Blueprints for Legendary set items, especially those themed 'sovereign', are usually divided across several scrolls—one for each major piece, plus one for the core concept. This," he pointed to the title, "is only Fragment one. Perhaps for the Pauldron, or perhaps a still-vague overview. For the complete set... we must find the rest."
"And the materials?" Seris asked. "Impossible."
"Not impossible," Lazarus countered, the fire in his eyes rekindling. "Just... monumentally difficult. Petrified Tears of a Primordial Titan? That might refer to the 'Valley of Weeping Giants' in the frozen northern mountains—a place said to be the graveyard of giants before demon or human kind walked. Roots of the World Tree? That's legend, but... there are reports of giant root networks in the deep southern jungles that emit strange healing auras."
"Lumi," Nyxaria called, her voice soft.
The child turned, her golden eye blinking. "I see... one thread. Close. But... in the ground. In a place that's sick." Her hand pointed toward the workshop's west wall—toward the outside of the Sanctuary, toward the corruption zone created by [World Edit: Corruption].
"In our corruption zone?" Seris asked, alert.
Lumi nodded slowly. "Not metal. But... a feeling. Like roots, but cold. And pulsing slowly."
Mara accessed [Realm Census] quickly—an instant scan of her territory. No major threats. But there was... an anomaly of earth energy concentrated deep down, at the edge of the corruption zone. Not dangerous. Just present. Like something long asleep had been stirred by the touch of her darkness.
"This is a mad project," Mara's inner self analyzed with gamer logic. Fragmented Legendary set? Materials from fairy tales? Unrecorded quest chain? This is god-tier endgame content. The kind that demands a full guild, months of preparation, and guides from obsessive dataminers. And I'm... alone. Nearly.
But on the other hand... Imagine if it succeeds. Armor designed specifically for the 'Uncrowned Sovereign'. Not just stats—but a symbol. Something that alters perception. And lore... lore could become a weapon. If there's another truth about Nyxaria, about why she exists... that could change everything. Not just battles. But narrative warfare.
Nyxaria stood upright. "This is not a priority. The Sanctuary, Church threats, economic blockade—those are primary." Her voice was firm, logical. But then, she added, more quietly, "Yet... knowledge is a defense. And this is hidden knowledge. Aldric."
"My Lord?"
"Keep this blueprint secure. In our strongest vault. Study what you can from its design—enchantment principles, metallurgic patterns. Even if we never find the materials, there may be techniques applicable to other works."
Aldric nodded, his gaze full of respect. "Wisely spoken."
"Seris," Nyxaria turned to the elf. "Draft a hypothetical map. Based on lore Lazarus knows and reports from passing players, mark potential locations where materials or other blueprint fragments might be found. No expeditions for now. Just... gather intelligence."
"Standard reconnaissance," Seris nodded, her expression focused. "It can be done. The Eclipse Merchants may have old tales or maps."
"Lazarus, your task is to research prophecies and legends concerning the 'Uncrowned Sovereign'. Search any libraries we possess, question older refugees. Discreetly."
"It shall be commanded!" Lazarus bowed, his theatrical energy returning. "I shall unearth buried truths, sweep the dust from history with a diligence that—"
"Just do it," Nyxaria cut in, halting his monologue. She looked at Lumi. "And you... if you 'see' other threads, tell me."
Lumi nodded, then tugged Nyxaria's cloak. "Ghost Mama... curious?"
That simple question struck true. Nyxaria was silent a moment. "Yes," she finally admitted, the voice that emerged more Mara's than usual. "I am curious."
That night, the Obsidian Sanctuary settled into a different silence. Not a silence born of absence, but of weighty thoughts. In his library, Lazarus opened ancient scrolls kept from world's corners. Seris in her command room, sketching on maps with colored ink, connecting dots of legend. In the workshop, Aldric sat before the blueprint, a magnifying lens in hand, scrutinizing every stroke of ink like an archaeologist decoding a lost civilization's script.
And Nyxaria—Mara—stood on the balcony of the highest tower, gazing at the moon hanging like a silver coin in the star-studded black sky. The [Veil of the Forgotten Queen] draped about her felt cold.
Uncrowned Sovereign.The un-crowned Queen.The unfulfilled promise.
Those words spun in her head. Eight thousand hours playing Aeternum, and never—not once—had she heard this tale. Official lore about Nyxaria was always brief: Final Raid Boss. Catastrophic Threat. Demon Queen hungry for power bent on world's ruin. Full stop.
But that blueprint... that wasn't a design for a monster. That was a design for a leader. Elegant. Complex. And regal.
Did the system err? Or... is history written by the victors? The Church of Light, for instance, surely had motive to demonize a figure like Nyxaria. But the 'betrayal' Aldric mentioned? Who betrayed whom?
[Internal Metric]
Cognitive Dissonance Detected: Self-Perception vs. Historical Data.
Recommendation: Seek Primary Sources. Corrupted Data may yield unstable conclusions.
Yes, thank you, system. Very helpful, Mara scoffed internally. But that notification was correct. She needed primary sources. And primary sources might be other blueprint fragments, or the mentioned materials, or... places like the statue of the woman with broken horns.
She felt a profound exhaustion, not physical, but mental. Survival was one challenge. Discovering your new identity might be part of a grander cosmic mystery was another.
She finally returned to her room—a grand chamber with a high ceiling and a vast bed that felt too empty. Lumi was already asleep in the corner, curled under blankets, her white hair fanned on the pillow. Mara—Nyxaria—sat on the bed's edge, removing her [Veil]. In the mirror on the wall, she saw her reflection: a woman with elegant horns, red eyes, perfect pale skin. A face she never chose.
"Who are you, truly?" she whispered to that reflection.
The reflection gave no answer.
Sleep eluded her. Her mind swarmed with images: blueprints, maps, lists of mythical materials. When sleep finally claimed her, it brought no peace.
She dreamed.
Not an ordinary dream. No narrative. Only a series of images and sensations, like memory fragments leaking through reality's cracks. A vast battlefield, but not one she recognized. The sky stained purple and orange, like a giant bruise. The earth fissured, emitting a pale light from within. There were two armies—one blazing with a golden light that hurt to see, another dark, diverse, irregular. And in the center stood a woman.
She wore armor akin to the blueprint's design, but incomplete. No helmet. Her face... resembled Nyxaria's reflection, but older. Weary. A deep sadness lived in her red eyes, a sorrow Mara did not possess. She wasn't fighting. She stood, arms outstretched, as if trying to bridge the chasm between the two warring hosts.
Then, from the golden host's ranks, an arrow shot forth. Not an ordinary arrow. This was a pure line of judgment, trailing holy fire that scorched reality itself. The woman didn't dodge. She stared at it, and in her gaze was a heart-rending understanding—as if she had always known this would come.
The arrow pierced her chest.
No dramatic explosion. Only... silent ruin. Her armor cracked. Light from her form—dark purple and deep red light—began to leak like starlight blood. She fell, one knee touching the ground.
And before everything darkened, she turned. Looking toward something—or someone—beyond the dream's frame. Her lips moved, shaping a single inaudible word.
Then, betrayal: from her own ranks, shadows she had believed allies, turned. Their weapons—forged from the same darkness as hers—thrust toward her as she weakened.
Mara woke with a jolt.
She sat upright in bed, breath ragged—a response this level 999 body shouldn't experience. Her chest hammered, as if that dream-arrow were real. Around her, the dark room. Lumi still slept soundly. No sound.
But the sensation lingered. The arrow's piercing pain. The betrayal, deeper than any wound.
She stared at her trembling hands. That wasn't me. That... was her. The real Nyxaria? Memories? Or just imagination sparked by stress? Yet the dream was too vivid. Too visceral. And that woman's final gaze... laden with an unspoken message.
Mara drew a deep breath, forcing her body—which shouldn't be capable of panic—to still. Analyze. Do not be swept by emotion. It's just a dream. But her veteran gamer instinct screamed otherwise. Quest trigger. Lore dump via dream. This is a sign the story is advancing. And it's tied to the blueprint.
She looked out the window, toward the moon that had shifted. Dawn was still hours away.
"Uncrowned Queen," she murmured into the darkness. "What truly happened to you?"