Steve could hardly breathe.
The vast chamber echoed with silence, the kind that made your heartbeat feel like a drumbeat in your ears.
Pillars carved from ancient obsidian lood high above, casting long shadows across the polished floor.
At the center of it all, she stood.
The Queen Witcher.
No words could've prepared Steve for her. No story, no dream, no twisted fantasy from his notebook.
She wasn't just beautiful—she was unreal.
Steve stared at her, lips slightly parted, thoughts crashing into one another like waves in a storm.
' She's...she's a MILF...' he thought.
' She's most definitely going to be my top one.'
And just as that foolish, honest thought danced through his mind, her voice cut through his senses like silk over steel.
"Steven Jobson."
He blinked. Her voice wasn't cold. It wasn't haunting. It was warm. Disarming. Almost gentle.
He took a slow breath and stepped forward, trying to summon so air of confidence, of normalcy.
"I uhh... I an no disrespect when I say this, but...Umm...may I know why I'm here?" he said, forcing a smile.
"Mmmm..."
She tilted her head, amused.
"Don't you know ?"
"I do. I an... I know of you." Steve said, flustered now, his voice tripping over itself.
"You're the Queen Witcher. Of course."
Her smile deepened, soft but with a hint of mystery. It wrapped around her like a veil.
"I'm surprised you don't know personally, Steven."
He blinked, baffled.
"I... I an...sorry...uhh, but I don't really know how I'd know you and all.... But I do wanna know how you know . I'm just... just a peasant. A nobody. I didn't think soone like you would even notice my existence."
She stepped forward then.
Her heels clicked softly against the stone, yet each footfall felt like thunder in Steve's chest.
The air around her seed to warp with energy—a pressure, invisible but undeniable. Not just magical, but sensual.
Her beauty was surreal, dangerous, and real enough to hurt.
She stopped only a foot away from him, and he could feel the warmth of her presence, her body like a fla that didn't burn. Her perfu was floral and earthy, like crushed violets and ancient tos.
"You're not just a peasant, Steven." she said quietly, her voice almost a whisper now.
Steve's breath caught.
His brain tried to scramble for sense, for so kind of explanation.
Maybe this was part of the story—maybe his system had activated a hidden quest. Maybe... but none of this had been in the notebook. None of this was written.
"I... I don't understand." he said.
Taking a short breathe, the queen witcher muttered.
"I don't know how to say this in a way that won't terrify you." she said, her hand rising slowly to rest just above her chest,
"but... place your hands here."
Steve's heart skipped.
"Um... what?"
His eyes went wide.
' Did she just— ask to touch her boobs??'
She gestured again, this ti showing him the top of her chest—her pale skin marred only by a trio of intricate tattoos.
Each mark glowed faintly under the sunlight—three perfect circles, ancient, mysterious, humming with latent power.
'Here.' she said again.
'Place your fingers on them. It's nothing inappropriate. Just
a thod to asure your mana.'
Steve blinked twice, his brain still rebooting as he remained as he was.
' Right. Of course. Mana. That makes more sense....wait mana? Why'd she wanna asure my mana? I'm a man, and I haven't completed the harem yet, so I have no magic. So why'd she want to test for mana....Oh no...does she know...about the notebook?' He took a hesitant step forward.
"Just do it." she added softly.
He paused montarily, but didn't dare disobey.
With slightly trembling fingers, he reached out, stretching three of them to gently rest on the tattoos.
The mont his skin made contact, a shock ran through him—not electric, not painful, but alive.
He gasped softly as a golden light surged through the tattoos, then bled into her skin, and then into him. He felt it. A presence. A connection. His very soul being skimd and read like pages of a book.
And then, in a brief mont, it ended.
The glow vanished. He took a step back, breathless, and looked up at her again.
She was still beautiful. Still perfect. But now there was sothing else in her eyes—sothing that hadn't been there before. A flicker of awe. A trace of fear.
She exhaled softly and backed away.
Steve's eyebrows knitted.
"Are we... are we done?"
He hoped she'd say no. Part of him wasn't ready for this mont to end.
But she didn't answer right away. She just stared at him.
And then, as if realizing sothing terrible, she whispered,
"You're...you're... you're a sorcerer."
Steve laughed awkwardly.
"Yeah, I figured. I an, I'm a dude, I can't have magic....wait...what?!"
The Queen Witcher paused once more before she stuttered.
"...I received a vision..."' she said, her voice solemn now, almost reverent.
"...A vision of the return of the son of Hades."
Steve's stomach twisted.
"I was shown a boy. A boy with the blood of the underworld in his veins. A boy who could tip the balance of this realm. The vision led to the town of Mirrors... to the Jobsons' house. To you."
Steve's blood ran cold.
'That... that doesn't make sense. I didn't write anything like that. I haven't even finished the harem route with Tonya. There's no way I can have magic...there's gotta be a mis—'
"When I read your mana, it wasn't ordinary. It wasn't even advanced. It was Eternal Class, Steven. Eternal Class. That doesn't just happen. No peasant has that kind of power."
He stared at her, feeling like the floor had just fallen out from beneath him.
"You have the power of the Son of Hades within you." she whispered.
"You have black magic in your blood... The power to destroy realms."
Steve took a step back.
This wasn't a ga....this wasn't a dream either. Hell, this wasn't a scene he'd never even thought off while crafting the story previously.
This was completely out of his control!
***
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