Mythos Of Narcissus: Reborn As An NPC In A Horror VRMMO

The rumors had already reached them.

The officials of Quruize Citadel, steeped in the web of their own politics, were not ignorant of the whispers that had swept through their streets like wildfire.

They had heard of our Landship, our people, our nature, woven into myth before we had even set foot before them. The tale had twisted itself into something more than mere fact, sculpted by awe and fear into an almost divine narrative—one that spoke of a wandering bastion, a people touched by divinity, and a relic of Theotech nature lost to time.

That last part was, of course, a fabrication. A convenient lie, one that only I and those within the Landship knew the truth of.

We were not of Theotech. We were not some long-lost construct of divine will. But perception was power, and as long as they believed, it hardly mattered what was real.

And so, when the official came forth to meet me, he did so with an air of reverence.

He arrived flanked by three elite guards, their presence marking him as someone of considerable rank.

Unlike the standard soldiers that lined the Citadel's battlements, these men bore twice the armor, twice the armaments—a clear distinction in both form and function. Their weapons, embedded with shifting inscriptions of ohrtending craft, pulsed faintly with power. Their movements were measured, disciplined, a silent testament to their training.

Lupina and I descended from the Landship alone.

We planned to add Theogrunts into the mix since they were brimming of Theotech essence, but they looked too similar to the Duolos that had already introduced themselves as their own race of demi-humans from faraway land.

Quite the design flaws that I made back then.

The others—the rest of my confidantes—remained within the observation dome, shielded from both psychic and physical perception. Only Lupina accompanied me, the faint hum of her existence as a Theotech Vessel resonating against the fabric of reality itself, which should be a clear enough indication that she was of Theotech origin to any who possessed the slightest psychic sensitivity or ohrtending prowess.

The official stepped forward first, his posture shifting into a practiced gesture of welcome. A diplomat's motion. A carefully constructed display of civility. His lips parted into a smile, polite yet edged with calculation.

"Esteemed envoys of mystique nature, I welcome you to Quruize Citadel," he began, his voice smooth, each syllable measured, intentional. "It has been said that those who reside upon your great Landship honor kindness above all else—that goodwill is met not just with gratitude, but with divine favor itself."

I watched his soul as he spoke.

The strands of his being unraveled before me, the echoes of his history exposed to my sight. And at that moment, I understood.

Quruize was not merely a stronghold—it was a labyrinth of hierarchy, an intricate construct of power and politics woven so tightly that to step within its bounds was to become ensnared in its strings.

The official before me was merely one of many hands grasping for leverage, a cog within a system that shifted and restructured itself with every breath.

I allowed the thought to pass.

Instead, I smiled.

And as I did, I let my presence unfurl.

A gentle tone, a kind voice, yet the force behind it amplified like an unrelenting tide—a whisper that became an exalting crescendo, a presence that demanded to be felt. My divine aura magnified, surging forth like light spilling into darkness, its weight immeasurable yet irresistible.

Even with barely any direct psychic influence, the minds of those exposed to it wavered.

They did not comprehend it. Not fully. Not consciously. But the instinct to revere, to bask in something greater, took root.

The official fell to his knees.

His guards, hesitant at first, soon followed.

"I—" His voice trembled. "I offer my fealty, my service, my very being to your divinity. If it is your will, I shall relinquish all that I am, all that I have—"

Lupina, standing beside me, shifted awkwardly.

I noticed the way she stared, the quiet discomfort in her expression.

I remained as I was, my exterior unchanged, my countenance as calm as ever.

"Rise," I said, the command infused with the same weight that had pressed them into submission. "There is no need for such displays. For we merely seek cooperation from fellow envoys of humanity."

The official remained kneeling, his eyes alight with something between reverence and awe, as if struggling to comprehend the enormity of the presence before him. His hands, which had been pressed to the ground in submission, trembled slightly as he lifted his gaze.

I inclined my head, a motion both acknowledging and dismissing his display of fealty. "Good," I said, my voice as steady as ever, yet carrying an undertone of finality. "Then let us speak further of our arrangement."

The official hesitated for only a fraction of a second before rising to his feet. Despite his earlier display, he composed himself with impressive speed, falling back into the measured demeanor of a diplomat. His role, after all, demanded it.

"As you wish, Your Eminence," he said, his tone reverent yet controlled. "The Citadel is willing to hear your terms, and I shall ensure that they are honored without question."

I smiled slightly, though whether it was in amusement or calculation, I did not say. "Then listen well."

I stepped forward, and the subtle pressure of my presence deepened, weaving through the very air around us. The official and his guards tensed—not in fear, but in anticipation, as if every syllable that left my lips was a decree from the heavens.

"You will grant my people access to Quruize Citadel," I stated, my voice carrying across the vast entrance plaza. "Publicly, without restriction."

The official bowed his head slightly. "It shall be done."

"In return," I continued, "You will receive more than a mere presence of our existence—protection against the Ordeals. The might of my Bastion will stand against the horrors of Carcosa, together with your sword and bows, ensuring our best that your Citadel will not fall."

The official inhaled sharply, his eyes flickering with something akin to desperate relief. Even before he spoke, I knew what drove him—the knowledge that no fortress stood eternal, that even the strongest walls could crumble under the weight of Calamity.

"You would grant us such an alliance?" he asked, his voice edged with disbelief.

I inclined my head, as if the matter was obvious. "More than an alliance," I said smoothly. "A guarantee, as long as your people remain courteous of us."

The official exhaled, tension bleeding from his shoulders. The offer was too valuable to refuse.

But I was not finished.

"You will also receive knowledge," I continued, allowing the weight of my words to settle upon him. "Materials. The fruits of divinity, and many more~"

The official looked as if he wanted to question further—but he did not dare. Whatever these 'fruits of divinity' were, they were something bestowed. That was enough.

And then, he bowed deeply.

"Quruize accepts your terms," he said, his voice unwavering. "I shall ensure that the decree is relayed to the ruling council and the Anthropocentric Order at once."

I studied him, watching the last vestiges of resistance crumble beneath the sheer weight of my presence. He had accepted the arrangement not as a negotiation, but as fate.

"The foundation is laid," I murmured, and with that, the Bastion would begin to take root.

As the necessary documents and formalities were set into motion, I turned my attention to the city's people.

They had gathered in droves—merchants, envoys, soldiers. Onlookers drawn forth by the presence of the Landship, by the sight of something beyond the scope of their daily lives.

I let my gaze drift across them, and as I did, I smiled once more.

A simple thing, yet it carried weight.

The charm took root effortlessly. Reverence flickered in their eyes.

I did not linger.

With our affairs concluded for now, I returned to the Landship.

Lupina was the first to speak once we stepped inside.

"That was so cool!" She practically bounced on her heels, eyes shining with excitement. "Did you see how fast he folded? The plan worked! We're in!"

I allowed myself a quiet chuckle.

"Indeed," I mused.

Lupina tilted her head, an impish smile playing at her lips. "Still, that was... intense. I mean, I expected them to be intimidated, but—"

She hesitated.

I gave her a glance. "But?"

She sighed, rubbing the back of her head. "I tested my disruption power like you suggested while you were doing your whole 'divine radiance' thing."

I raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "And?"

"It worked. Kinda." She grinned, pleased with herself. "I managed to dampen the effect—just a bit. Enough that I didn't feel like throwing myself at your feet or whatever."

I let out a soft laugh. "Impressive."

"Right?" She puffed out her chest, clearly proud. "It's good to know I won't turn into one of your fanatics if things ever go out of control."

"Good to know, indeed." With that, I gestured forward. "Come. The others are waiting."