The ship doesn’t slow down.
If anything it surges forward, engines flaring bright, hull cutting straight toward Frostine like the pilot actually means to clip her out of the way.
She doesn’t even step back.
Frostine just raises one hand, calm as anything, and the whole ship seizes mid-motion — ice spreading fast across the hull, climbing over the metal in jagged white sheets, engines choking out one by one until the entire thing just hangs there, frozen solid and dead in the void.
Silence.
"Rude," she says simply, lowering her hand.
I stare at the frozen ship a second, then grin, an idea clicking into place.
"Guy clearly knows this place better than we do," I say. "So let’s make sure he stays cooperative."
I pull up the system, scroll to the option I haven’t touched yet.
[Total Buyout Protocol: Available] [Purchase any eligible asset — value determined by system valuation]
I lock onto the ship.
[Confirm Purchase: Vessel — 280,000 Void Credits] [Transaction Complete] [Ownership Transferred: Jake Vance]
Inside the frozen cockpit, I watch the pilot’s head snap down to his own interface, confusion flashing across his face — then his eyes go wide, mouth opening like he can’t quite believe the number sitting in his account now.
"Wait—" His voice crackles weak over the comm, no bite left in it at all. "I never agreed to sell my ship—"
But he’s not really arguing. He’s just staring at the balance, jaw slack, practically drooling over digits that weren’t there thirty seconds ago.
My system pulls the paperwork up automatic, contract materializing in clean glowing text right in front of the frozen viewport — ownership transfer, signed and sealed, deal already done whether he agreed out loud or not.
"Legally his now," Seraphina says, arms crossed, reading over the contract with something almost like approval. "Airtight too. Impressive."
I float forward, harem trailing behind me, and walk straight through the ship’s now-unfrozen airlock like I own the place. Which, technically, I do now.
Solnix drifts in first, hands folded neat in front of her, every inch the picture of grace and humility.
"We’re so sorry for the confusion," she says, voice warm, soothing, bowing her head slightly toward the stunned pilot. "My master only wanted to make things right after such an unfortunate misunderstanding."
Demitress trails in last, arms crossed, rolling her eyes hard enough I can practically hear it.
"Misunderstanding," she mutters under her breath. "He tried to run her over."
The pilot just keeps staring between his account balance and the five of us now standing in his ship like this is all somehow normal, completely out of arguments, completely out of ship.
I clap my hands together once, easy. "So," I say. "You’re going to help us navigate this void. Won’t take long."
The pilot pulls himself together slow, hands shaking slightly as he gets the controls moving again, ship humming back to life around us. He keeps glancing back at me between switches, like he’s still working out what exactly just happened to his life.
"You’re from the Lower Realm," he says finally, not really a question. "Earth."
I blink. "How do you—"
"Wait." Seraphina cuts in sharp, arms crossed, eyes narrowing at him. "Lower Realm?"
The pilot lets out a short, humorless laugh, flipping a switch overhead. "You really don’t know anything, do you." He shakes his head. "This whole existence isn’t just one place. It’s divided. Realms, stacked on top of each other — Upper, Mid, Lower. Earth’s the Lower Realm. Bottom of the stack." He glances at me like I should already know this. "Most people up here barely even know your realm exists. It’s a rumor to most. A footnote."
I feel something cold settle in my chest, the pieces clicking together slow.
"So how’d you know I’m from there," I ask again, quieter this time.
He taps something on the dash, and a faint marker blinks to life over each of us — over me, over Viperess, Frostine, Solnix, Demitress, Seraphina, all six of us lit up in soft red outline on his display.
"You’re tagged," he says simply.
"Tagged," I repeat.
"Everyone who transitions gets marked the second they cross into a higher realm. It’s automatic — the universe itself registers you. Broadcasts it, basically. Doesn’t matter where you go from here, what realm, what sector." He glances at me again, expression shifting into something almost like pity. "Everyone up here will know exactly what you are the second you show up."
Viperess goes still beside me, scales flickering faint with tension. "Meaning people already know we’re here."
"Meaning people already know," the pilot confirms.
He hesitates a second, then adds, quieter, like it costs him something to even say it out loud.
"And I’ll be straight with you — Upper Realm doesn’t think much of Lower Realm humans. Never has. You show up flashing power like that—" he nods toward Frostine, toward the frozen wreckage of what used to be his hull plating, "—some people up there aren’t gonna be impressed. They’re gonna see a threat. Or worse, a target." His jaw tightens. "Be careful who you trust from here on out. That tag doesn’t come off."
I sit back, the hum of the ship’s engine steady under me, and let it all settle. Tagged. Watched. A whole stack of realms above us that already know we exist, and most of them looking down at where we came from like it’s nothing.
I run it over in my head, quiet, weighing it.
Viperess sits close, tail curled loose beside her, arms crossed, watching me think. Frostine leans against the frozen-frost wall she made herself, arms folded, unreadable. Solnix watches with that same soft patience she always carries. Demitress says nothing, but her eyes stay on me too, waiting.
I let out a slow breath.
"Okay," I say finally. "So they know we’re here. Fine. We can’t undo that." I look up, meeting each of their eyes in turn. "But knowing we exist isn’t the same as knowing what we can do. Or what we’re willing to do to stay standing."
Seraphina raises a brow. "That’s your plan? Bravado?"
"No," I say. "My plan is we’re smart about this. We don’t walk in loud unless we have to. We learn the realms before the realms think they’ve already got us figured out. We use every advantage we’ve got — the system, the money, each other." I glance around at all of them again, something steady settling into my chest. "Nobody up here gets to decide what happens to us. Not some priest, not some noble, not some realm that thinks Earth’s a footnote."
Viperess’s tail flicks once, a small, satisfied motion. "Confident."
"Not confident," I say. "Careful. There’s a difference." I look at each of them again, slower this time. "But I’ll tell you this much — whatever comes at us up here, I’m not losing any of you to it. Not one. Whatever it takes, I protect this harem. Every step, every realm, all the way up."
Nobody says anything for a second. Then Solnix smiles, soft and warm, and Frostine’s mouth curves just slightly — not quite a smile, but close.
The pilot glances back at us from the controls, something unreadable crossing his face, like he’s starting to realize exactly who he sold his ship to.
"Void’s clearing up ahead," he says instead, turning back to the console. "Next realm gate’s about twenty minutes out."
I nod, settling back into the seat.
"Then let’s see what’s waiting for us."