Streamer in the Omniverse

Quick note: Apologies for the delay, some things came up, but I've sorted everything out. The next chapter will be on February 9th.

Good Night and happy reading!

(P)(A)(T)/CalleumArtori

[...]---[...]

The Proto-A matrices were, I'd say, about eighty percent complete.

The outer part—whether through Mystic Symbol matrices or Runes—was mostly finished. There were still a few touch-ups to be done and the decision on which dye to use for painting the Mystic Symbols, which for now were just powerless sketches. Overall, it shouldn't take much longer.

The trickier part was the internal section. The internal matrices were far more intricate: command matrices, counterbalance matrices to support the external ones. Even the internal Runes were something more "delicate." If the ship's outer shell was meant to be as resistant and durable as possible, the internal part required a more delicate balance between resilience, durability, and control.

I couldn't just turn all the matrices into barriers and defense systems for the ship without considering how it would affect the crew. Striking this balance with the Humvee was relatively easy—the car was incredibly small compared to the Proto-A, which was nearly two hundred meters long and thirty meters wide.

Ignoring the fact that I wanted attack matrices—which would be mainly drawn on the artillery—the Proto-A would also be, for lack of a better word, a home, a safe haven. The ship needed to be sturdy but also shield anyone inside from whatever might attack it externally.

If it were just me inside the ship, I'd completely disregard this aspect. I could withstand almost any secondary impact reverberating through the walls. The ones I couldn't endure, I'd heal quickly. Whether it was echoes of attacks—heat, cold, shockwaves, or even mental and spiritual assaults—it didn't matter. But my companions couldn't. Be it in Terraria or other worlds, the vast majority of people I knew were far less resilient than I was, and that was a problem.

The night passed quickly. While I worked, I didn't focus on or even glance at the moon, which seemed to watch over the world from the sky. Only part of my attention was on my surroundings and the storm; the rest was on the matrices I was constructing.

Ozma and Jinn made a few comments here and there, mostly Jinn rather than Ozma. Occasionally, some comments from the stream would pop up, mostly from Ainz and Serafall, who were the ones least in need of sleep. For obvious reasons, they were the most active at that hour of the night—or morning, technically.

[Viewers: 3,298]

Three thousand was a good number given the time, though nowhere near the peak of around twelve thousand viewers.

As I skimmed through the (CHAT) messages, Ainz's last comment specifically caught my attention:

[AinzOoalGown]

I'd like to talk to you later if possible, Devas. There's something I've been meaning to ask for some time, as well as a request. It doesn't have to be now—I still have something I need to think through.

(Skeleton emoji crossing its fingers under its chin.)

I paused my fingers and my control over the Shadowflame. Kneeling near the floor, drawing a matrix with my finger engulfed in purple flames in one of Proto-A's hallways, I looked at the message—emerging from a small tomb—for a few seconds.

"Sure, just give me a heads-up and I'll create a private chat," I replied, shrugging casually. I didn't know what the leader of Nazarick's Tomb wanted; it came out of nowhere. Still, I didn't think it would be something that would bother me.

A conversation was just a conversation, and any request he made could easily be refused if it was something absurd. My only question was whether I'd be talking to Ainz Ooal Gown or Satoru Suzuki, but I supposed I'd find out soon enough.

A few minutes later, as the first rays of sunlight began peeking through the storm clouds on the horizon, Serafall took the chance to send a message, saying she wanted to "spend" one of the two questions from our previous agreement, in exchange for the two bags: one of angel feathers and another of fallen angel feathers.

[MagicalGirlSera-Tan]

Greenie, Red, and I discussed a bit and decided what to ask you.

(Emote of a devilish magical girl pulling one of two cards from her pocket)

I slapped away the little devil carrying Serafall's message as it flew toward me, watching it burst into flames against Proto-A's wall.

"Now? Do you want me to create a private chat?" I asked, clapping the dust off my hands and glancing at the nearest window. I really needed to replace those panes. Most of the sunrise had been swallowed by the black clouds... Such a shame...

Before Serafall could respond, several "pings" echoed from the minimap's edge—nine in total, one for each of the nine green dots that had appeared in the area.

Moments later, another message from Serafall zoomed past me, shining in a star-shaped burst from a magical wand.

[MagicalGirlSera-Tan]

We can continue this later. Seems like you've got company. Remember: don't fall for that dryad's words. The only supernatural being allowed to charm you is me~

(Emote of a magical girl slipping a card back into her pocket)

I scoffed and ignored Serafall's message, walking through Proto-A's corridors until I reached the ship's exit gate. The number of green dots on the minimap was higher than I had expected. For a moment, I even stopped to mentally tally the number of people I knew in Terraria who could be considered allies.

Dylan, Robyn, Selina, and Gilbert made four. Melissa and Darnell, six. But who were the other three? The answer, which I had already suspected, came after a few minutes of waiting—time I used to eat a simple breakfast of a few cereal bars and a glass of juice. Helena, Charlotte, and, surprisingly enough, a small wooden doll radiating the same mana as Alalia completed the nine dots.

The first to run up to me as they entered the clearing was Robyn's fox. It climbed the Proto-A's ramp and rubbed against my legs. I ran my fingers through the animal's soft fur before standing and walking toward the group, who stood awestruck in the distance, staring at the ship behind me.

Selina, in particular, looked on the verge of fainting, having a stroke, an orgasm, and a heart attack all at once, staring at Proto-A as if it were some kind of forbidden divine idol.

"If she dies for any reason, I'm not taking responsibility," I said, half-joking, half-serious, pointing at the Steampunker.

The way I could hear her heart racing was starting to concern me. The constricted pupils, subtle twitches in her eyes, and slightly parted lips weren't good signs either.

My words were enough to snap almost everyone back to reality. Dylan was the first to react, glancing at Selina. His eyes briefly glowed blue before he shook his head and sighed, ignoring the Steampunker's state. Then he walked toward me.

"She'll be fine—physically, at least. Her mind, not so much, but that's been the case since birth, so don't worry about it," he said with a dismissive wave, approaching. After a handshake and a quick "good morning," Dylan glanced at Proto-A and asked, "So... what is that thing?"

I looked over my shoulder at the ship before replying, "In short?"

"I think I'll regret asking for the detailed explanation, so yeah."

"It's called Proto-A." I pointed over my shoulder with my thumb, indicating the ship. "Think of it as the Humvee—just bigger and cooler."

Dylan blinked. "Less briefly, ple—" He was cut off by what sounded like a high-pitched scream mixed with a moan. Selina was responsible for the noise.

The Steampunker ignored my presence and Dylan's as she bolted toward the Proto-A. She began examining the ship's exterior and interior, circling it at an impressive speed. From the mechanical whirring and the faint hiss of steam I could hear emanating from her, it seemed Selina was using the exoskeleton under her clothing to boost her speed.

She kept at it for about a minute, murmuring countless words so quickly and softly that even with my enhanced senses, I could barely catch any of them. Then she stopped, staring at the ramp as though she wanted to enter the ship but didn't dare, and turned to face me.

"This…" She hesitated, glancing at the Proto-A as if carefully choosing her words. "This grand and incredible mechanical marvel… It flies, doesn't it? The shape of the hull, the stability matrices etched into the metal, and the way the wheels appear retractable all suggest that… It's a flying vessel, isn't it? Better than a zeppelin—far better…"

Her explanation spilled out in a single, rapid sentence. Selina seemed nearly to drool as she spoke, her gaze glassy and somewhat deranged. Her fingers twitched slightly, spasming now and then, and her breathing was a bit ragged. I was almost certain I saw her thighs rub together once or twice.

...This one had been a lost cause for some time now.

("She reminds me of Miss Rose, but more unhinged and with a sexual proclivity for machines.") Ozma's voice echoed in my mind, his tone amused.

I had to hold back a snort at the old wizard's comment. Not that I disagreed with him.

"I'd make a joke about it being just a water-bound vessel, but I don't think you'd buy that." Selina huffed, raising a single expectant eyebrow.

Maybe it was my sadistic streak talking, but I waited to answer, letting silence fill the air for a few seconds. When Selina looked like she was about to pounce on me, barely holding herself together, I finally responded: "Yes, the Proto-A flies. I can show you later if you want."

My confirmation made her freeze for an entire second.

"I… No, I'm nowhere near worthy." I heard her murmur in a dazed tone before her eyes focused on me, gleaming with a mixture of insane determination and fervor: "I'll offer the entire SteamHord family and everyone in it as slaves if you let me fully study the ship."

The sound of palms hitting faces echoed behind me—three, which I assumed belonged to Dylan, Melissa, and Robyn. The others' reactions varied from stifled laughter to dry coughs of disbelief and surprise, or even choking noises.

"You do realize I'll let you study the Proto-A without asking for anything in return, right?" Hadn't I done the same with the Humvee? Was she completely out of her mind?

No, I'd sense outright madness from a mile away. She was a bit unhinged, sure, but not entirely insane…

"I stand by my offer. Do you want a blood contract?"

"I don't want your family as slaves."

"She can't even offer that," the Oakwood matriarch spoke for the first time since arriving. She stepped forward to stand beside her son, just behind me. "Selina isn't the head of her family."

"Yet! I'm not the head of my family yet! It's only a matter of time!"

"The last I checked, your parents were alive and very healthy."

Before Selina could throw the idea of familial murder on the table, I turned to the rest of the group. The Steampunker wore her usual style of clothing—designed to accommodate the exoskeleton she wore under the fabric—but with longer details. The others, however, were dressed in entirely different outfits than usual: thicker clothing suited for colder weather.

It wasn't quite what the people of WinterHord wore, nor what we had worn while there, but it was clearly distinct from typical casual attire. It looked like something you'd see in early winter on Earth. Furthermore, the clothing was elegant: the fabric was finely crafted, and the Mystic Symbols, along with the dye used on them, were of excellent quality.

My simple attire seemed a bit out of place at the moment, but that was fine… I didn't even feel the cold.

I ignored the looks everyone was giving me and focused on the doll the princess was clutching to her chest. A simple doll made of intertwined branches, with leaf hair and pinecone eyes.

"Alalia." I greeted the dryad's effigy with a nod.

"Devas." A melodic and gentle voice echoed through the breeze around us.

I noticed Dylan shudder slightly in the corner of my vision, his muscles tensing visibly, while everyone else unconsciously relaxed. Even the princess, who had been the tensest while observing me with a slightly fearful gaze, showed clear signs of easing upon hearing Alalia's voice.

I exchanged a quick glance with Dylan. His eyes glowed with a soft, almost imperceptible blue hue, but no words escaped his tightly pressed lips.

...It seemed he found Alalia's authority as disturbing and intimidating as I did.

I clapped my hands twice, drawing everyone's attention.

"Well, can we continue the introductions inside the Proto-A? I don't know about you, but I'm feeling a bit cold out here." An obvious lie which, judging by Robyn's huff, Gilbert's laugh, and the looks the others gave me, was easily recognized.

Not that I was trying to hide it—it was just an excuse to move the conversation elsewhere...

[…]

POV: Charlotte A'Elise of Valmont

I had been warned, but that warning was nowhere near enough to prepare me...

It was like standing before a massive dormant volcano. A calm sea, hiding something immense and slumbering in its depths. A radiant sun, whose warm light cast a shadow as vast as itself, as cold as...

For the first time since this strange, unpleasant, and repulsive storm began, I felt it was insignificant. It didn't encompass the entirety of my kingdom's surroundings. Small, somehow, compared to the man before me.

Devas was completely different from how I remembered him during our last encounter. Beyond his appearance being distinct, with longer hair tied back in a style that strongly reminded me of many Beastikins, an elastic held most of his black hair in a short ponytail behind his head, while the rest fell around his face, stopping just above his jawline.

He also had a light, neatly trimmed beard that gave him a more mature air, more so than he already exuded. The serious look on his face was the same as I remembered. But despite all this, the biggest difference was his strength.

He had been strong back then, with great potential, but now? This...

Aunt Helena and Hirael, the old royal mage, were the two individuals with the most mana in the kingdom. I'd say they were the two strongest in the entire realm, except for Alalia. But even they seemed small compared to Devas. The only being I could compare him to would be Alalia herself, but I had never actually felt the dryad's mana to make that comparison.

The most impressive part was how all that immense amount of mana was smoothly contained beneath his skin. I could only sense Devas' mana when I got close enough—a distance so short that, given the sheer amount he possessed, I should have been able to feel it clearly from my bedroom, lying on my bed.

...Even with all the Mystic Symbols on the palace walls.

Frankly, I didn't understand how anyone capable of sensing mana didn't seem tense or outright panicking. Dylan even appeared more relaxed around Devas than near me! That made no sense whatsoever.

I took several deep breaths to calm myself, even after Alalia's soft voice helped considerably in that regard, as we walked through the metallic corridors adorned with thousands—perhaps tens of thousands—of Mystic Symbols in this strange vessel, which, according to Selina, should be capable of flight.

I had my doubts about that, but Aunt Helena hadn't contradicted the SteamHord heir's words, nor had Dylan, the most intelligent and knowledgeable person I had ever met. I also hadn't stopped to examine the matrices, focusing instead on not appearing foolish or having a panic attack. So, I remained silent, especially after Devas confirmed Selina's words.

Contradicting the man guiding us was not on my agenda...

Even with Alalia's doll in my arms, I didn't have that confidence in myself. The dryad had already instructed us not to antagonize Devas. If she—whom I was certain was the strongest being in the world—advised us so, I wasn't about to oppose someone who seemed to be the second strongest.

The walk was quick, but I still had enough time to observe my surroundings. I wasn't as knowledgeable about Mystic Symbols as Dylan, much less as Aunt Helena, but as a princess and mage, I knew far more than the vast majority of Terrarians—perhaps even more than Selina, who seemed to drool over everything around her.

...I wished it wasn't literally.

The Mystic Symbols seemed unfinished, almost like sketches or prototypes, burned superficially into the metal. They also weren't painted with dyes. —An unfinished work? Probably...—I thought.

I didn't know the details, but based on what I had learned, Devas shouldn't have had this ship for long. At least a month—that was how long he had "disappeared," in Dylan's words, in WinterHord. Given the size of the vessel, if I could even call it that, the current work was impressively well-crafted and detailed for something in development for such a short time.

Perhaps the ship, Proto-A, as he had called it, simply hadn't been functional before. Or maybe it required many mana stones, or whatever fuel this metal monster used.

Selina might call it a marvel, but to me, this ship was more a war machine than anything else.

As my thoughts bounced around like slimes on a plain, we reached what seemed to be a sort of mess hall. It wasn't elegant at all, resembling the military barracks' cafeterias I had visited a few times, rather than anything found in the palace.

A mess hall made for soldiers in a ship that seemed built for war... Devas, for all intents and purposes, was an ally, but I didn't know if I liked this line of thought or not...

I instinctively pulled Alalia's doll closer to my chest when the man guiding us turned his gaze to me. I realized he was looking at the doll in my arms, just like the last time, only when he spoke to it.

"Before anything else: Alalia, I have a friend who is…" He hesitated briefly. "In the same situation as I am. Is she welcome?" Welcome?

The wind tousled everyone's hair, especially mine, as Alalia's voice replied: "You are welcome. If she is your friend, the hospitality extends; I can promise you that."

It was subtle. If I hadn't been paying close attention to Devas, I might not have noticed how he seemed to relax slightly at the dryad's confirmation. A second later, a golden adorned lamp appeared at his waist, and immediately after, a bed materialized beside him. It was an elegant, well-crafted piece with completely white sheets and a golden frame, but all of that paled next to the woman lying there.

She had dark blue skin and even darker black hair. Her pointed ears, similar to Alalia's, and her summer-white dress—contrasting sharply with her skin and hair—did a poor job of hiding her curves, whether of her chest, waist, or thighs. She also wore golden adornments: two earrings, chains on her wrists, and a necklace, almost like a collar.

The woman was undeniably beautiful, but her exotic appearance gave her an extra charm, enough for me to instinctively compare her to Alalia. The dryad was the only one who seemed to possess this abnormal, almost magical allure as well.

Before anyone could ask anything, Devas' shadow trembled for a moment, exuding a subtle but very, very strange aura.

"Is that?!..." Dylan's words trailed off as what seemed to be a tattoo on the woman's thigh—a hand with an orange eye—glowed, revealing itself beneath the white fabric.

The next second, she opened her eyes and blinked, looking slightly confused for a moment before stretching.

"You know, this is still strange, even for the second time..." Her voice was soft. For some reason, it reminded me of a teacher's tone.

The woman glanced around, her gaze lingering briefly on each of us, staying the longest on me and the doll in my arms, before looking down at herself and finally at Devas.

The look on her face at that moment reminded me a lot of Alalia's expression before she pulled off something that would undoubtedly irritate or embarrass me—often both. This time, however, her target didn't seem to be me. Devas seemed to notice this and stared at her. After what appeared to be a mental conversation between the two—or perhaps just an extended exchange of glances—the blue-skinned woman crossed her arms under her chest, her lips curling into a sulky pout.

"... Fine," she said simply and stood up.

The moment she rose, the bed disappeared. She turned and gave a noble bow, lightly tugging at the edge of her dress and tilting her upper body subtly.

"Pleasure to meet you all. I am Jinn, a friend and traveling companion of Devas." The woman, now identified as Jinn, lifted her gaze. Mischief sparkled in her eyes once more. "Devas has told me about you, especially the contracting group he's part of. He holds you all in high regard and fondness. Thank you for taking care of him."

Devas's awkward cough was accompanied by a soft blush that spread across his cheeks. It lasted only a brief instant, but for a moment, he appeared flustered.

The merchant Gilbert's laughter filled the room a second later, followed by Devas's resigned sigh as he glared at Jinn.

"What? I didn't lie." She stuck out her tongue at him, a playful giggle escaping her lips. Devas sighed a second time.

"I suppose this is my fault here..."

"A dryad?" Aunt Helena stepped forward, taking charge. The answer came from the doll in my arms.

"No... She's not a dryad." Alalia leapt from my chest, landing gracefully on the floor. With quick steps, she approached Jinn. The two regarded each other for a moment. "A spirit? No, not entirely. You're not natur—"

Her words froze mid-sentence as she abruptly fell silent, covering her mouth with her hands. Jinn seemed to understand what she was about to say and finished the thought:

"Not naturally born?"

The doll glanced at Devas for an instant before turning back to Jinn, nodding slowly.

"No. I am a creation. I presume I'm different from the spirits of this world?"

"Not entirely, but different enough that the distinction is obvious—at least to me. I don't think anyone else in this world would notice." The doll tilted her head to the side and extended one of her small arms upward. "Pleasure to meet you, Jinn. I'm Alalia, but I believe you already knew that."

"I did, but it's a pleasure to meet you." The woman knelt, adjusting her white dress, and clasped the doll's hand gently.

"Wait, from this world?!" My voice escaped before I could think. I felt everyone turning toward me. Were it not for my years as a reigning princess, I might have been embarrassed, but instead, I merely gave a faint cough, composed myself, and continued: "Apologies for my outburst; I was just surprised."

"You didn't tell them?" Devas shifted his gaze to the doll on the floor, who somehow managed to blush.

"I forgot..." She smacked one of her tiny hands against her head, causing a pink flower to bloom where it hit. Then she explained: "It's not my fault! I was so happy yesterday that I completely forgot!"

Devas pinched the bridge of his nose. I glanced around. I wasn't the only one noticing something strange...

"Am I to presume my son and his group are aware of what Alalia is referring to?" Aunt Helena stepped closer to me and addressed Devas.

Dylan, Robyn, Gilbert, and Selina showed no reaction to the revelation. Well, Selina for different reasons, but still...

"A correct assumption, Duchess Oakwood." Devas addressed Aunt Helena by her title, his voice respectful but devoid of submission. "Here's what we'll do: it's still early. Have you eaten yet?"

"We were planning to on the way back," Dylan replied. "At least our group; I'm not sure about the others."

"I haven't had the chance," I answered with a gentle nod. Devas continued:

"Perfect. I'll prepare something for us to eat, since you're in my..." He looked around. "Home, for lack of a better word. I don't want to be a poor host. In the meantime, Alalia and Jinn can explain everything to you."

"I can help. I know how to cook, and I already know everything anyway." Robyn stepped forward, holding the white fox in her arms.

"I'd offer my help, but I'm afraid of what Selina might do," Dylan commented next.

"I'm free as well, if you'd like," said the merchant.

"... Fine." Devas turned to me. "Is this arrangement acceptable, Princess?" I froze for a moment.

"You've known all along?" My clothes weren't that different from everyone else's, and he hadn't recognized me last time.

"Not the first time, but someone who sat as an equal with the Duchess of Symbols had to be important. It only took me two minutes of research to figure out who you were." His response came easily.

He continued after a moment: "Apologies for any lack of manners. I'm not accustomed to dealing with nobility, let alone royalty." For an instant, his expression seemed peculiar.

I absorbed his words. They made sense. Any decent library would have a book on my family's history, including an attached painting of all members since the kingdom's founding—myself included.

After a few seconds, I replied, "Please, just treat me like everyone else here. Aunt Helena and I came only to talk; I didn't plan to discuss any official matters."

If he noticed the nuance in my words, he didn't comment, merely nodding as he snapped his fingers. A set of finely crafted utensils, plates, and glasses appeared on the large table nearby, along with drinks and a few appetizers.

"Please, have a seat. I'll be back in a few minutes." The fox woman and the merchant followed Devas into the kitchen.

A few seconds later, the dryad and the spirit began explaining the entire situation.

[…]

POV: Devas Asura.

Fuck Jinn and her ideas. At least I managed to stop her from saying she was my slave. I could feel the malice in her gaze as soon as she fixed her eyes on her chains.

Still, she managed to embarrass me a bit. I should've thought this through — it was obvious she wasn't going to give up so easily...

("You have dozens of dishes ready in your inventory, why are you cooking?") Ozma's voice echoed in my head.

("I don't feel like explaining the whole situation to everyone again.") I replied, not lying.

("You delegated that responsibility to Jinn?")

("Exactly!")

I could feel some kind of happiness — maybe even pride — radiating from Ozma. He did the same with Glynda, didn't he?...

Maybe Salem was right, and we had more in common than I'd like to admit.

"Any dish in mind?" Gilbert asked. "And before I forget..." He gave me two light taps on the shoulder. "You handled the princess well. It's not every day someone shrugs in the presence of the royal family."

The last royalty I met was sliced by me dozens of times...

I kept my thoughts to myself and replied: "It's not that hard when she's not actually my princess." I shrugged. "Any clues? I'm sure she and Dylan's mother didn't just wake up and decide to visit me. What's the deal?"

I spun the air around us and Robyn, isolating the sound. Alalia could probably hear, but I wasn't too concerned about that.

"We don't know." Robyn answered, her tails swaying slowly behind her. Her white fox weaved between my legs and Robyn's. Where was the owl, by the way?...

She continued after a second: "We were just as surprised as you. Dylan suggested we come here when we woke up since you said you wouldn't be back until later. The Duchess of Symbols and the princess met us halfway and decided to come along."

[AdvocateOfGenderEquality]

My experience with novels, anime, and manga tells me this is a problem. Royalty in a fantasy world almost always causes problems.

(Emote of a generic guy watching anime)

I agreed with Kazuma. The princess might have said she didn't plan to discuss any official matters, but that didn't mean she couldn't or wouldn't. Chances are it's something involving the kingdom — about the sick or traitors. Even more likely to be something related to the storm.

... At least if that's the case, it aligns with my goals.

"Need help?" Gilbert started fiddling with the pots that had appeared from my inventory. I let him and Robyn take control of the kitchen.

I knew how to cook, but only the basics for myself.

"On the negotiation?" I asked. He nodded. "Maybe, but I don't think it'll be necessary. I appreciate the offer."

I didn't intend to bleed the crown dry — at least, not too much and not literally, like last time. Again, their goals aligned with mine. If I could get rid of that damn entity — that fucked-up eye — and the fucking cultists, that'd be enough for me.

But I'd gladly take any rare materials they had, of course...

"You're..." Robyn nudged me and pointed to the air. "You know?"

"On stream? Yeah. Almost always am. The camera's focused on me, don't worry. But they can hear you." I usually let the camera focus wherever the stream thought was best, but when I was near other people — especially those who knew about the stream — I made sure to keep it fixed on me.

I had accepted being an attraction, but that didn't mean the others had to be too.

Robyn looked around, a little tense, before sighing and relaxing.

"I don't know how you got used to this."

"It's basically practice." My response seemed enough for her, though I could tell she didn't agree.

Almost an hour later, the dishes were ready, and we returned to the table.

[...]---[...]

Things are finally starting to move! In the next chapter, Devas speeds up his actions.

As for this chapter, it's a setup chapter, just to lay the foundations. I wasn't as happy with how I wrote it, it's been a while. I was dealing with some family issues at the time.

The next one is much better.

Well, I think that's it. Good Night, everyone, and happy reading!