Mirabella Roux was always the epitome of perfection. Born into the wealthy Roux family, she excelled at everything: piano, horseback riding, languages, and even martial arts. No challenge was too great. Her parents were successful in business and philanthropy. They gave her the best education and every opportunity, confident that she would shine in whatever field she chose.

  But that was the problem. Everything was too easy. Craving a challenge, she pushed her boundaries in her twenties with extreme sports—parkour, free climbing, ice climbing, and cave diving. She dedicated both her fortune and her body to these pursuits. Family and friends saw these as harmless eccentricities. They didn't grasp her reality.

  Everything changed on her twenty-fifth birthday when she booked an especially tough cave dive. She told no one; she wanted to avoid company, the concern, and the warnings that came with it. Her goal was to savour the challenge alone.

  Her adventure began without a hitch. She reached the cave entrance easily and felt her anticipation rise in the dappled sunlight. The air was damp and rich with earth. It promised adventure. The cave's mouth gaped before her, jagged limestone walls darkened by ages of water. Deep within, the steady hum of water called to her, drawing her toward the unknown.

  The opening was narrow. It was barely wide enough to slip through, but as she moved closer, the cave stretched into shadow, swallowing the light. Ancient stone, shaped by time and water, filled the space. Moss and lichen covered the rocks. The air felt damp and cold. She paused to savour the rawness—a hidden world beneath the surface.

  She tightened her diving harness, checked her tank and regulator, and adjusted her headlamp. Mirabella slid into the water; cold rushed over her as she submerged. The world above vanished in deeper silence. Her headlamp's beam cut through the water, casting shifting shadows. Instantly, she felt alone, surrounded by a vast, unexplored network beneath the earth.

  The dive began like every other: a dim, alien world that had grown familiar. Only her own breathing filled the silence as she descended. She wasn't reckless. She'd paid for a survey and knew of an exit, though it wouldn't be easy to reach.

  As she pressed on, the world closed in. Others might feel claustrophobic. To her, the confining rocks were euphoric. Each passage she squeezed through was a challenge conquered, spurring her onward.

  Then things went wrong. She underestimated a tight tunnel and became trapped, isolated from the outside world. She stayed calm, focusing on escape. This was just another challenge. Even as her tank emptied, she didn't feel fear. She was Mirabella; things always worked out. But then a strange message burned in her mind. She couldn't find the portal. Doubt crept in. For the first time, she truly thought she might die before ruthlessly burying the thought.

  Now Mirabella thrived in her element. After her transformation by the system within the cave, her form became wondrous. Still mostly humanoid, she now had gossamer wings that appeared to be made of translucent ice, yet were tougher than steel and razor-sharp, able to slice a man in half. Her eyes changed dramatically—now compound and insect-like, composed of hundreds of tiny facets, giving her not only greater range and clarity of vision but also the ability to perceive the flow of magic in her surroundings.

  The most significant aspect of her transformation was the growth of a deadly trio of tails, each ending in a hollow, barbed stinger—perfect for injecting venom or magic. This reshaping of her body brought new capabilities. Her Progenitor status allowed her to inject magic into other creatures, converting their magical cores and even their abilities into her own through a difficult, resisted process. With this, Mirabella assembled a small army under her command.

  Her minions were as beautiful as everything that served her. Inspired by bees, Mirabella valued their productivity. Once she gained Ice magic, she bestowed it upon them. Her army of ice bees expanded her base, called the Hive. She kept the victims frozen, turning them into giant ice bees to capture even more.

  She kept pace as her bees provided her Evolution points. She invested EP into her skills, determined to achieve perfection and minimise weaknesses. She tested her abilities in her private arena, but her bees were often overwhelmed. When humanity emerged from their tutorial, she planned to face them. She sought both the Monster and Hero Systems to become even more powerful. But first, she intended to strengthen her forces and attack nearby monster settlements. The catfish men and their flying city had resisted her, their ship damaged but still floating at her border. They refused to serve, even after she learned their language.

  She had sent wave after wave of her bees to test for weakness. But it seemed the fishmen's fortress was well defended. This led her to her current path. She was deep within her Hive, looking over her newest recruits. She had hit the jackpot. Some of her bees had discovered another hive. The creatures from that one weren't as smart or magically capable as her bees. But the flying Scorpion-Rays, as she learnt they were called, were physically impressive. They used their stingers like swords, slicing anything that attacked the Hive. Their deadly venom was paralytic. It would work wonders with her own conversion plans. The price had been the queen of the Scorpion-Rays. She was an amazing specimen—a progenitor in her own right. But Mirabella's magic had almost finished converting her into one of her own. With another progenitor in her species, rapid expansion was a step closer. Once she got more of those fishmen, she would use them to create her own intelligent species, modelled after her. A sentient species that would follow her as she carved her own piece of the world. She just needed that fortress to fall. Judging by how the queen Scorpion-Ray had dissolved into a cloud of blue energy, it seemed that moment was finally upon her.

  ?

  The Siluri were a proud people; even now, with their world changed forever, merged with countless others, they still managed to hold on. They had been denied the Hero System by that bastard Mr Pink. He had called them failures of creation and said they lacked potential, but they'd been granted the Monster System, which had given them additional power in this dark new world. Combined with their superior technology, they would carve out their own space.

  They never got to live out their dreams. The entire remnant of a civilisation was aboard a master piece of magical engineering. The fortress city of Zomanga. It was supposed to be unassailable, armed with mana-powered railguns, and would deploy entire teams of fighter drones at the first sign of danger. Combine that with the myriad other magical protections that guarded them, and they should have withstood anything.

  Unfortunately for them, they had become the Hives' prey. A thousand ice bees, the smaller sort about the size of a large dog, took to the air surrounding the city fortress. They fired their icle projectiles, forcing the city to unleash its drones to do battle. The drones were far more manoeuvrable than the bees and made quick work of them. That was until a new type of Ice Bee unit entered the fray. Where the originals had been built to use ice magic from range, these new bees were faster and leaner, almost wasp-like. In place of arms, they had vicious, blade-like appendages that made quick work of the drones, catching them by surprise and forcing them onto the defensive.

  Siluri pilots launched steampunk fighter jets, streaking between drones and bees in frantic dogfights. Icy stingers shattered canopies; jets tumbled into the clouds. As a thousand more bees surged in—magical, physical, relentless—the defence faltered. Drones and pilots fell or fled for the city's perimeter, trailed by the relentless swarm. Ice bees battered shields, breached defences, and began encasing Siluri defenders in frozen shells.

  With the city's shields down, Mirabella plunged from above, landing with a bone-jarring thud that pinned a fishman beneath her. His shout became a gurgle as she drove her tail stinger home, ending him instantly. He became the first of her new generation.

  By dawn, Mirabella ruled the fortress. Escaping crafts darted from city edges, but most Siluri hung frozen, captured in suspended animation. Fallen defenders littered the frozen streets. Mirabella ordered her bees to swarm and brace the city, preparing to haul it to her Hive. Soon, with her new sentient minions, she would reverse engineer the fortress and build an armada.

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  Erlkin was probably the unluckiest álfar that had ever existed. His world had been a peaceful place after centuries of war against the ancient invaders- the humans. His people had won; they'd forced the humans to retreat from their lands and accept them as equals. He was the second ruler of his clan since the great wars ended and had been enjoying the peaceful times by having his clan become a centre for the study of magic across the world. He had plans to build a great university where creatures from across his world would come to study and gain an appreciation for álfari culture. But then his scholars had discovered the cracks in reality. They had been able to predict what would happen, but there still wasn't enough time. Their King hadn't taken the threat seriously and had dismissed Erlkin and the Azure Fire clan as raving madmen. He'd been laughed out of the court. He'd managed to prepare his clan mostly, and when the mad godlike entity, Mr Pink, had enacted his plan of merging a hundred alternate worlds into one. His clans all had a spell carved onto their soul so they'd all end up in the same place. He knew Pink didn't think of them as worthy for his Hero System, but something else had aided them, giving them the Monster system. Combined with their advanced magical knowledge, they had a fighting chance.

  ?

  That was what he'd thought at least until some of the lesser álfar started to go missing. He'd sent his High álfar to investigate, and they'd reported a strange derelict temple of unknown origin. It was on the other side of the strange island he'd had his clan build their home on. He'd sent teams to explore the place, but none returned. That led him to order his people to stay away. Things only got worse when the torrential deluge washed out much of their food supplies, and then there was that beam from the heavens that had shaken the entire island. His scouts had reported that the temple was gone, but he still didn't rescind the order for his people to stay close to base. There was still another thing he worried about. His brother had returned from a hunting trip with terrible news. A strange monster had slain his nephew. His brother did say he'd put it down, but Erlkin knew that where there was one monster, chances were there were more.

  ?

  Erlkin looked about the room; there were four others with him. These four had helped him guide the clan, and since arriving in this new world, their assistance had been instrumental in keeping the clan alive. On his left, his brother Kalkin stood holding his spear. His eyes were red, and his green face was covered in pale streaks where his tears had fallen. Erlkin worried for him; he hated to see his brother grieve. But this meeting was important; they needed to plan for their survival, who knew what the merger had brought.

  ?

  "Erlkin, I'm glad you brought us together. We must discuss the food shortage situation!" A feminine voice said, tearing his mind back to the present. Across from him was the High Librarian Darra. She had married into the clan, having come from the Rising Star clan. She had married one of his cousins, who had unfortunately died in the Great War. She had stayed with the Azure Fire clan for her children, a decision that proved to be for the best after human inquisitors wiped out her clan.

  “Yes, Darra. Food is one of the most important things we need." Erlkin answered. He was about to elaborate when the last member of their four made themselves heard.

  "We should send out the lessers to explore the island. Now that the temple is gone, we can send teams to explore. I'm sure there are treasures left behind from its destruction." The gruff voice belonged to a big álfar. He was six feet tall, and his body rippled with muscle.

  "Gallac, if you didn't interrupt, I would have explained my plans," Erlkin said, his voice tinged with exasperation.

  "Here is the plan," Erlkin said, now that they were focusing on him. "Kalkin, I am tasking you with leading an expedition. Your goal is to explore the island, collect samples of local flora, and capture and record as much of the fauna as possible. We need a good idea of what we're dealing with out here." Erlkin turned to his brother. He didn't get a verbal answer, but his brother nodded. Erlkin hoped the expedition would help his brother get back to some semblance of normal. He knew he would never be the same again, but he hoped this would keep him busy long enough to work through it.

  "Darra, I need you to organise the creation of a spawning pool. While we, the higher álfar, are powerful, there are far too many of us. We need to increase the number of lesser, especially now that the monster system gives them the potential to become better. I had hoped they would evolve into higher beings like us, but that doesn't seem to be the case for most of them. Most evolve into more brutish forms, but we've had two higher evolve from them as well as some other more unique variants."

  Darra nodded to him in agreement. Their species was split into two: the higher álfar, fully sentient and with strong magical affinities. They were the species' original members, but they had encountered a serious issue. They bred far too slowly, and when the war began, they feared extinction, so they brought their magical knowledge to bear and created the spawning pools. From these, the lesser álfar were born. They were not as magically gifted as the higher, nor as physically impressive, but they were cunning and extremely loyal, and, most importantly, they bred fast. Each female lesser could bring five more lesser álfar into the world every year, and those would reach maturity in three months when their ageing would slow, and they'd live for a good forty years. Some of the other clans had thought the creation of the lesser álfar was a perverse act, but those clans had soon come begging the Azure Fire clan for lessers of their own when the wars came.

  "Gallac, you are to take these new variants and see if you can make them into a fighting force. We need to be ready for anything. "

  Gallac grinned. "Don't worry, Erlkin, I'll get them fighting fit. Might I also suggest we send small groups of lesser to hunt and grow until they evolve? We could send them in squads with two or three higher to babysit."

  Erlkin nodded. They ironed out the details for an hour longer, the whole time his brother didn't speak, and when the meeting ended, Kalkin left before Erlkin could speak to him. It didn't matter that his brother would get the task done and probably hunt for any other creatures like the one that had killed his son. Things were going to get a lot busier around here, and Erlkin hoped nothing else would crop up for him to deal with.

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