Gulp, gulp, gulp.
Angel took a carton of milk from the fridge, inserted a straw, and downed it in large, noisy gulps.
She had not even eaten dinner yesterday, yet the cold liquid filling her stomach caused no discomfort at all.
This young, delicate girl’s body looked small and fragile, but in truth it was very strong.
In every sense, inside and out, she had surpassed humanity.
Or rather, she was no longer human at all.
Angel closed the fridge, rubbed her jade-white fingertips, and murmured thoughtfully:
“In essence, I am the Herrscher of Dominance.
This body is merely a puppet controlled by my authority.
But the authority also depends on the body to exist.
If all the bodies available for possession die, then I will die too.”
“Having only one body is far too dangerous!”
Angel felt a sharp sense of threat.
Setting aside all the confusion and bewilderment for now, survival was her top priority.
Driven by this thought, she naturally came to understand how to use her authority.
Step one: draw Honkai energy from the Imaginary portal.
Step two: find a medium for the authority to possess, such as a corpse or some powerful puppet.
There were no suitable mediums here, so she skipped this step and instead molded a body using herself as a template.
Step three: activate the authority and dominate this new body.
A faint purple light flickered and coalesced before Angel’s eyes, forming a small figure with a delicate but already graceful and alluring silhouette.
Angel blinked.
Opposite her, the other Angel, like a flawless piece of white jade, blinked back.
They gazed at each other, identical in every way.
“…” x2
After a moment, the original Angel’s lips curved upward.
This amusing sight finally eased her tense mood, and she spoke playfully:
“Take a few steps!”
“Take a few steps~”
“Walk with the vigor of a tiger!”
“Walk with the vigor of a tiger~”
“Walk with the momentum of a thousand miles a day!”
“Walk with the momentum of a thousand miles a day~”
“Walk as if a lifetime has passed!”
“Walk as if…
hey!
That’s enough.
We are all the same person.
You are not going to go through the whole routine and then punch me at the end, are you?”
The clone Angel toddled around in a stiff, awkward walk, then rolled her eyes and promptly turned to head upstairs.
Utterly shameless, but of course, they were the same person, so there was no need for pretense.
A little while later, she came back down wearing casual long sleeves and shorts.
Her slender, pale legs swung with each step, casting an almost impossibly bright, luminous gleam, as if they were glowing.
“Even though she is me, and in fact, she is me, she is still quite a feast for the eyes.”
The original Angel sat on the sofa, watching as the clone Angel sat down across from her.
Throughout the entire process, Angel could feel that both the clone and the original were herself, sharing synchronized will, thoughts, and even sensations.
But at the same time, the original and the clone could each think independently.
Calling this split personality would not be quite accurate.
Perhaps it was like two virtual machines on a computer.
They had some independent functions, but in essence they were still one machine.
The original Angel and the clone Angel stared at each other, and gradually their expressions turned identically grave.
“Bad news.
I am the Herrscher of a Thousand.
There are plenty of people I cannot afford to provoke who are ready to kill me at any moment, and who have the power to do so.”
“Good news.
I am the first of the Herrschers of a Thousand.
Because I have not spread my authority and become a mob, no one knows I am a Herrscher yet.”
So, as long as she kept a low profile and stayed hidden in the shadows, Angel might be able to live safely all the way to the late stages of the story.
What to do in the late stages was a question for later.
For now, the priority was to conceal her identity as a Herrscher.
As long as she was not exposed, she would not attract the attention of those dangerous figures.
The two Angels pondered this, and then they both remembered a dangerous situation at the same time.
“Those girls we tore apart!” x2
Rationally, Angel felt no sympathy for those bullies who had done so many vile things.
They were just a bunch of underage little beasts.
Emotionally, neither set of Angel’s memories contained such brutal experiences, so it was hard not to feel a twinge of unease.
But that was not important.
What mattered was that those shredded bodies were lying in the alley.
Even if the place was secluded, they would eventually be discovered.
And with the power of modern forensics, she would easily become a suspect.
She could ignore the mundane authorities, but what if one of the three major organizations took notice?
She would die, would she not?
Both Angels widened their eyes and stood up.
The original Angel, still in her bathrobe, spoke decisively:
“We can still fix this.
We have to go turn those bodies into our clones right now.
If they continue to exist in those girls’ forms for a while, trouble will not come knocking on our door.
Move fast.
Hopefully we are not too late.”
And the clone Angel had already dashed out the door, leaving only a flick of her golden hair trailing behind.
There was no need for verbal instructions.
Their thoughts and consciousness were one and the same.
The distinction between original and clone was meaningless.
They were all Angel, with no hierarchy of importance.
Even if one Angel died, she would only temporarily lose one independent thread of thought.
Angel would still live, with no other consequences.
While one Angel was away, the one left in the house frowned in thought for a moment, and then her body vanished from the room.
…
This was a world of darkness.
Direction, position, even the passage of time did not exist.
There was an indescribable, hazy, chaotic feeling.
Fragments of structures floated in the void.
Some looked like pieces of unknown palaces, others like slices of skyscrapers, and many other inexplicable objects.
They were all data segments of the real world mapped into the Imaginary Space, existing on the edge between reality and illusion.
Angel held the milk carton’s straw between her lips as she stood in the void, her violet eyes blinking softly.
The knowledge of the Imaginary Space that came with her Herrscher authority gradually clarified in her mind.
Angel could only remain still, quietly trying to convert it into something she could comprehend.
After a while of digesting, her eyes lit up.
She raised her palm, and an invisible domain expanded outward from her in all directions.
Soon, a vast spatial region fell under her control.
Under Angel’s will, the scattered debris within the domain drew together, merged, recombined, and refined.
In no time, they formed a broad circular platform, like an ancient, majestic hall.
The stage was still far from the domain’s boundary, but it was already vast enough to be called magnificent.
“This is the Theater of Domination.”
Angel murmured to herself.
Both her knowledge of the original story and the information inherent to her authority told her the nature and properties of this domain.
A controllable spatial realm, a place for seizing authority, drifting through the boundless Imaginary World.
Only the Herrscher of a Thousand could enter and exit freely by virtue of their authority.
And this gave her an unparalleled sense of security.
“The Herrscher of the Void, Sirin, is still asleep.
Even if organizations like Anti-Entropy or World Serpent have technology that can reach the Imaginary Space, they could never find my domain in the endless expanse.
This is the ultimate life insurance.”
As long as one clone remained safely hidden in the theater, even if all the others outside died, Angel would still live.
“Hahaha!”
Angel spread her arms wide and laughed freely.
Granted, there was still Otto Apocalypse.
That great schemer and devoted lover had carefully crafted his final plan, in which the authority of Dominance seemed to play an important role, and he might have already obtained the Cosmic Juggernaut.
That was undoubtedly a massive threat she could not ignore.
But that did not stop Angel from feeling relieved.
This was probably the first time since waking up that she felt at ease, as if she finally had a solid footing in this world.
After the pleasant laughter, Angel snapped her fingers.
Her authority activated, and slender female figures coalesced in the purple light.
Ten, twenty, thirty.
One hundred, two hundred.
Countless naked Angels materialized.
The scene was silent, yet suddenly felt crowded and overwhelming.
Slap!
The original Angel, still in her bathrobe, stared at the endless expanse of identical snowy white before her and had to cover her face.
Slap!
Slap!
Slap!
All the other Angels covered their faces as well, including the one outside who was hurrying toward the crime scene.
Even though they were all her, even though they were all exceptionally beautiful girls, the sight triggered a touch of trypophobia in Angel.
(T/N: Trypophobia is the fear or aversion against repetitive patterns, or clusters of bumps or small holes.)