I stared at the prompt, the words glowing softly in the air before me.
{0/1 Emotional Constructs Generated. Please choose an emotion to generate.}
I had to choose an emotion.
Just one.
My mouth felt dry. Of course, it made sense—if I was going to create a construct, it had to come from somewhere real. Something deep. An emotion I thought was needed.
But how the hell was I supposed to choose?
A swirl of thoughts crashed behind my eyes. Fear. Anger. Joy. Shame. Curiosity. Regret. All of them had been with me at one point or another—some more than others, some louder. Some I didn't want to hear again.
"I don't even know what I should pick…" I whispered.
Frey glanced at the panel hovering near me, her brows pinched with concern. "Do you… want to talk it through?"
I hesitated. "It's asking me to create a personality. A whole… being. From a single emotion."
Geomi shifted closer, her voice calm and steady. "Do you think it'll be dangerous?"
I shrugged. "I think it'll be me. Or a piece of me, anyway. I just don't know which piece is safe to let out just yet."
The words tasted heavy. Like they'd been waiting too long to be said.
Geomi gently rested her hand on mine. "Are you sure you're worried about which is safe to let out… or which one you'll have to face? Maybe don't think in terms of safe. Think in terms of necessary. What emotion have you been holding in so tightly—or ignoring for so long—that it's started to bleed into everything else?"
I blinked.
That question hurt.
Not because I didn't know the answer—
—but because I did.
A memory clawed its way forward. Not of monsters or battles, but of the year after my parents died. Living with my grandma, attending a school where I didn't belong, surrounded by strangers. And the silence—between me and Frey—after our fight.
Before, I just disliked crowds. I didn't like attention, and I wasn't great at talking to people, but I never cared what anyone thought of me. But after everything shattered—my life, my home, my parents, my best friend—something cracked inside me.
I started to care.
Too much.
"What if Frey hates me and never wants to speak again? What if they all do? What if people are only talking to me out of pity? What if…"
That voice had lived in my head ever since. It filled the silence between conversations, jokes, laughter.
That tightness in my chest whenever someone looked at me too long. The echo of my thoughts screaming in a room no one else could hear. The moments after class where I'd freeze, unable to speak, terrified they'd judge me.
I'd moved away. Lost everything. And I carried all that weight alone.
It wasn't rage.
It wasn't even sadness.
Not entirely fear either—not at its core.
No… it had been hiding behind my fear all along. Quiet. Watching. Pulling the strings.
The true mastermind was loneliness.
A loneliness so heavy it bent my shoulders, made my voice shake, convinced me that any moment people would see through me—see how scared, how broken, how alone I truly was—and walk away.
Eventually, that feeling wove itself into everything. Quiet. Suffocating. Even when I felt okay, it was still there. Watching from behind the curtain. Smiling when I needed to. Saying the right things. Pretending so no one would notice just how much I was breaking.
Because being honest felt like adding one more burden I couldn't carry. A burden that might make others leave.
That was the emotion that needed a voice.
"…I think I know which one I'm choosing," I said softly.
The panel brightened.
{Confirm Emotional Construct: [Loneliness]?}{[Yes]/[No]}
I hovered my finger above "Yes," but didn't press it.
"What's it going to look like?" I murmured.
Geomi whispered, "Maybe… like the part of you that always waited for someone to notice."
Frey snickered. "What the hell does that even mean?"
"I... uh..." Geomi stammered.
I sighed, bracing myself.
I tapped [Yes].
{Generating [Mind's Castle]...}{Entering the Mental Realm}
The forest vanished.
I stood at the outer edge of a palace—like the ones from historical manhwas. A sprawling flatland castle of pale wood and curving rooftops, ringed by old stone paths and flower-laced gates. The air shimmered with quiet magic.
Hydrangeas bloomed everywhere in every color—soft blues and purples, snow white, peach-pink, even rare greens—growing along fences, stairways, and the borders of ponds that looked like mirrors.
At the center stood a massive weeping wisteria. Its petals shimmered like colored glass—gold, indigo, silver, crimson, black—dancing in a wind I couldn't feel.
The more I walked, the more it felt like a castle town—more than just a palace. Fortified. Beautiful. Empty. And deep inside, someone was waiting.
I wandered until I found a weathered building surrounded by faded red spider lilies. The building looked newer, but unkempt—like it had been left alone too long. Faded hydrangeas climbed the walls. The wood had weathered to a silvery gray.
I pushed the door open.
It sighed like old breath.
Inside was… a bedroom? No—an apartment. Sort of. A small kitchen near the entrance. A tea set for two, untouched. Shelves with unread books. A bed barely used. Picture frames with nothing inside.
And in the corner, curled on the floor, hugging her knees, was a girl.
She looked like me.
But not.
Her hair was down to the middle of her back, semi-tied up into a bun on her left side. Her hair was a gentle, deep gray, almost like it was trying to be black but couldn't quite be it; her eyes were haunting swirls of royal blue and dark purple, wide and tired, like someone who had cried herself hollow. She had long, pointed ears that stretched out from her head, just like those anime characters boys in class would obsess over back in middle school.
She wore a simple black dress that ended above the knees, with violet trim and long, loose sleeves. Her build matched mine in height, but she was thinner, more petite, with no curves or muscle. Just a fragile frame that looked like it had been forgotten by sunlight.
And yet when she looked at me…
Her voice came as softly as mist. "You came."
I swallowed. "A-Are you..."
She nodded. "I was wondering if you'd actually come," she said. Her voice was soft and careful, like she didn't want to scare me off.
"I-I didn't know what would happen if I didn't..."
She smiled a little. "Seems about right, I'm from this place, and I don't even know."
She stood. Her limbs moved stiffly, like someone unsure how much space they were allowed to take up. And yet, when she smiled—tired and lonely and honest—it wasn't threatening. Watching her tugged at my heart.
I stepped forward, drawn to her. I wanted to hug her...hug me? "I didn't think you'd.... uhm... look like this."
She stood slowly, her movements cautious, like the world had always given her reason to flinch. "I didn't know what I looked like either. I have a feeling that the system will tell you, after all, it did technically make me."
We stood in silence.
I didn't know what to say.
And then she spoke again, barely above a whisper.
"You know, you don't have to carry it alone anymore."
"Yeah...I guess I don't."
She smiled, a genuine, happy smile.
A soft breeze rustled the wisteria outside.
And a chime echoed across the castle grounds.
{Emotional Construct Created: [Loneliness]}
{Generating status}
_____
Name: Unnamed
Race: Solitary Elf (Emotional construct)
Emotion essences: Loneliness
Role: Undecided
Skills:
[Phantom Memory]: Records exact movements, voices, skills, and spells the host experiences. These recordings are archived for studying and can be mentally replayed at will, even under pressure.
[Pause Point]: Freezes the mental realm for 2 seconds, worth 2 minutes in the mental realm, which allows for strategization. Allows mental constructs to replay the last five seconds to analyze attacks, words, or surroundings and events in order to make sure the host's decisions are the right ones.
[Enlightenment]: Interprets the silent guidance within the host's activated skills and converts vague body tugs into precise mental corrections for cleaner execution and rhythm. This allows for cleaner movements in the host's combat and more stable spells.
Essence skill:
[Hollow Insight]: Innately detects hidden emotions, suppressed thoughts, and subtle behavior shifts in others. Enhances the host's judgment in social, strategic, or high-pressure situations. Boosts Insight-based effects.
_____
{This Construct may be named at any time.}
{Please choose a role for this construct.}
I blinked.
"U-Uhm... I guess I should name you, right?"
The girl seemed different... happier.
"Yes! A name, I definitely need one of those," She paused for a moment to try to calm her excitement."....y-you know if you don't mind."
"I don't mind one bit. Let's see....what was the name of that one show with the hero club? Uhm, you look like that one girl from the prequel, what was her name again...Oh!"
{Are you sure you wish to name the construct of loneliness: Chikage?}
{[Yes]/[No]}
Obviously, I clicked yes.
"You really named me after an anime character?"
"What's wrong, you don't like it?"
"...no...I like it..."
{Please select a role}
"It's never-ending!"
"I-I'm s-sorry..."
"It's not your fault that the system is dumb," I sighed in frustration.
I clicked the notification.
{Assign role to Construct: Chikage. Note: Only one role may be assigned per Construct. Role defines growth path, affinity, and support function.}
___
[Calmheart] – Mental Shield Construct
System Description: Specializes in resisting fear, confusion, emotional instability, and psychic influence. Anchors Rika's mental state, suppresses spirals, and reduces status effect impact.
[Ruinheart] – Emotional Assault Construct
System Description: Transforms intense emotion—rage, sorrow, guilt—into psychic or mental damage. Projects illusions, disrupts enemy focus, and weaponizes host's internal chaos.
[Wiseheart] – Internal Control Construct
System Description: Optimizes mana flow, casting rhythm, and skill layering. Regulates internal systems, movement precision, and cooldown timing. Ensures smooth multitasking under pressure.
[Mirrorheart] – Adaptive Mind Construct
System Description: Designed for rapid learning, strategic thinking, and knowledge refinement. Processes foreign magic, enemy patterns, and system mechanics into simplified mental models. Can temporarily fill in for other roles when no other construct is present or when needed.
___
"Hey, since you're me, which role do you think is most suitable for you?"
"Obviously [Mirrorheart], I'm the only construct you have right now, so it's obvious that you need a jack of all trades to fit all the roles temporarily."
I smiled a little and clicked the role after confirming that a new notification appeared.
{Construct "Chikage" has been changed to the role of [Mirrorheart]}
{Construct creation process complete}
{Commencing modifying [Mind's castle]}
{Returning host to physical plane}
The world shimmered again.
When I opened my eyes, I was back beneath the trees.
The canopy above whispered gently in the wind. The soft hum of moss and distant birdsong grounded me in the now.
Geomi and Frey were still nearby, chatting quietly, their voices low. Frey was the first to notice my eyes opening.
"Rika?" Frey called. "You alright?"
I wiped my face without realizing I'd been crying.
"…Yeah. I think I made a friend."
They didn't press.
They didn't need to.
And for the first time in a long time, I didn't feel quite so alone.
I nodded, clearing my throat. "Yeah. I'm alright now."
{Skill [Mind's Castle] temporarily dormant for calibration, skill effects will still persist}
Frey tilted her head, not quite convinced but choosing not to press. Geomi offered a slight smile, her gaze drifting to the panel that had disappeared in front of me.
The silence lingered—comfortable, not heavy.
I stood and stretched slowly, my limbs loose in a way they hadn't felt in hours. Maybe longer. The castle still echoed inside me, a place I could feel at the edge of my thoughts—somewhere between memory and presence. And her… she was still there too. Watching. Guarding.
"Alright," I said finally, exhaling a long breath. "Let's move."
We passed beneath the hanging canopy, where golden light filtered through branches so thick they seemed woven. As we walked, I paid close attention to the tree shelves; they were ancient, impossibly tall. Most of them were wider than a wagon, and I realized—staring closer—that the books themselves were also a part of the tree as if they were a fruit growing from it.
Ladders leaned gently against the trunks, moss-draped, some half-swallowed by the roots below. Despite the books looking like they grew from the tree, most were old, but all were strange, their spines written in characters that flickered when I tried to focus on them. Some were glowing faintly. Some hummed.
Frey stopped to poke one. "Think they're trapped?"
Geomi shrugged, her eyes darting with interest. "Or enchanted. I don't think they're for reading."
We wandered for another fifteen minutes, just taking it all in. The air was humid with the scent of green things—fresh leaves, moss, the sweet decay of fallen petals. Occasionally, I thought I saw something watching us from the trees. Not hostile. Just… curious.
Eventually, we reached the entrance to the next puzzle.
And it was… breathtaking.
Towering rose bushes formed a wall in front of us—no, not a wall, a labyrinth. Arches of thorned vines twisted into archways that led deeper in, each step forward dimming the light as the canopy narrowed above. The path ahead wasn't marked by stone or trail, but by the ever-deepening red of petals beneath our feet.
"They're alive," Geomi whispered, reaching out but not touching. "The thorns shift when we get close."
"Do we go in?" Frey asked.
I scanned the entry, then nodded. "Let's stay close. Call out if you lose line of sight."
We stepped in.
We walked around the maze for around fifteen minutes before I sensed something.
I was about to say something, but the attack to came fast.
A lurching rustle to the left—then a snap of thorns as something surged through the vines. It resembled a humanoid made of twisting roots and flowering stalks, its head a blooming rose, face made of bark-like petals. It was tall—easily six and a half feet—but hunched, dragging thorny limbs like a beast.
"Contact!" I shouted, just before it lunged.
Frey met it mid-charge with a roar, her fist slamming into the thing's side. Thorns snapped, and petals flew. Geomi flanked right, her new dagger flashing once, twice, slicing through exposed tendrils. I ducked under a sweeping limb and drove my blade into its chest—only for the monster to unravel like wilting ivy, collapsing into mulch.
The vines surrounding us hissed, then stilled.
{Skill Point +2}
{Stat Point +2}
{[Short Blade Arts] has leveled up!}
{[Basic Martial Arts] has leveled up!}
{Obtained [Rose scented bead]}
Frey blinked. "That… all happened really fast."
Geomi was already pulling open her interface. "We should probably look at what we just got. New skills, stat points, items—maybe more since we have access to the system store?"
I hesitated, then opened my own menu. "Worth checking."
A soft hum echoed around us as we all pulled up our panels. For the first time since entering the Library, we tapped open the icon that had been greyed out until now.
{System Store loading}
A cascade of shimmering panels unfolded before us.