CHAPTER 122: KAREN WONG, THE LITTLE OTHERWORLDER

The research lab buzzed with an undercurrent of amusement, as if the absurdity of the situation was a rare treat for Kivas, Samael, and Oizys.

They exchanged glances, their eyes glinting with a mix of curiosity and delight, though none could fully explain the chaotic fluke that had unfolded.

In truth, none of them even know what was actually happening. Their attempt to refine a volatile Dark Matter concentrate had gone haywire, and the expected surge of spatial distortion collapsed into something far stranger: a human, Karen Wong, yanked from a tame iteration of Earth and dropped onto their lab table.

Kivas, silhouette catching the lab’s arcane glow, clapped her hands lightly, her smile warm but laced with intrigue. "Well, Karen, since you’re here, might as well show you around the current civilization that you’re in. No sense keeping you cooped up in a lab like a guinea pig—as much as we wanted to," Kivas said in the last sentence like a whisper.

Samael, leaning on her chair before standing up with her draconic wings folded, nodded casually. "Might as well. I felt a little bit too cooped here a times.

Oizys, already tinkering with schematics for the second Dark Matter Reactor, waved them off with a smirk. "I’ll catch up after I make sure this thing actually works smoother than mudsliding capybara. Have fun playing tour guide!"

Kivas and Samael led Karen out of the lab, her sneakers scuffing against the polished stone floors of Vaingall’s central hub.

The New Vaingall Consortium sprawled before her—a labyrinth of towering spires, glowing sigils, and bustling plazas where Claturians, humanoid figures of all sorts of shapes and traits and flowing robes, mingled with merchants and warriors like in your typical fantasy world.

Temples of white marble shimmered under an alien sky, their spires crowned with orbs that pulsed like miniature suns.

Beyond the city, vast farms stretched, their fields bursting with mythical plants—fruits that glowed faintly, vines that whispered as they swayed, all conjured through Kivas’s divine influence as the Deity of Harvest.

Karen’s jaw hung slightly as she took it in, her gray eyes wide. "This... it’s like something out of a fantasy novel. Or a VR game on steroids. So many... people? Beings? All so different, but the fact that I don’t see any racial discrimination here, feels rather unhinged."

Kivas chuckled, her halo flickering with amusement. "In Fathomi, ’human’ is a loose term. It applies to anything with a hint of sapience and a vaguely humanoid shape. Doesn’t matter if they’ve got an eldritch lower half or a body of living rock—they’re human here. No racial disparity, no discrimination. Just a shared struggle against the unrelenting chaos that is Fathomi’s stageplay."

Karen tilted her head, her braided twintails shifting under her artist hat. "So... does the concept of humanity even exist here? Like, compassion, empathy?"

Kivas’s smile softened. "Surprisingly, yes. Likely brought by reincarnators or transfers like you—for that matter."

"This might be obvious from the beginning with how you talk but," Karen could not look Kivas in the eyes. "Are you also from Earth, by any chance?"

"Indeed," Kivas casually responded. "The fact that you, out of all worlds and iterations that had ever strayed their souls in this world, is another Earthling. Well, Fathomi’s got a knack for pulling threads of fate together."

Karen blinked, processing. "That’s... wild. What are the odds?"

Samael snorted, her red-black hair swaying as she crossed her arms. "In Fathomi? Odds don’t mean much. The slightest spark of connection—like two Earthlings—can draw you together, just because Fathomi wills it. This place loves its cosmic pranks in a sense that the more you try to make it make sense, the more you find that it doesn’t matter in the end."

Karen hesitated, her fingers fidgeting with her sweater. "Could we... bridge the two worlds together then? You know, with all of this magic and stuff."

Kivas was reminded of the detail where Karen explicitly mentioned a cosplayer with yellow cloak, red scarf, and a sword.

Such a detail highly reminiscent of the Yellow Order in one way or another. Samael should have also realized that as well by now.

For such an appearance to be uttered before the last moment before Karen got transferred into Fathomi, it must not be a coincidental matter, and much more of a predetermined course of action.

And for Karen herself to bring up a method to bridge the two worlds, she must also be wondering if the cosplayer she saw back then had any semblance of chance to be coming from this very world she just got lost to.

Kivas glanced at Samael, raising an eyebrow. "Possible?"

Samael shrugged, her tone flat but thoughtful. "Anyone could try. Stable back-and-forth travel’s tricky, regardless—Fathomi’s distortions make portals a gamble.

"But Xenorealms exist, foreign worlds linked to Fathomi via natural gates, stable enough for our rules to seep through. Any iterations of Earth might already be one, somewhere out there."

Kivas grinned, her voice teasing. "Maybe we’ll find your Earth as a Xenorealm. Though, I would rather not see the conflict between the world government of that world uniting against the foreign invader of another dimension.

"We had too many novels and stories written about it."

Samael smirked faintly. "If it’s out there, it’s probably in some chaotic corner we haven’t mapped, considering that I haven’t heard anything about it. Maybe the Karasu already got the information archived."

As they walked through a bustling market, a figure approached, biting into a glowing apple-like fruit with a wide, closed-eye smile.

Blanchette, her appearance unmistakable, exuded a carefree energy that clashed with the civilization’s hum.

"Newcomer, huh?" Blanchette said, tilting her head at Karen. "Kivas, you collecting strays from another world now?"

Of course she managed to find out about it immediately, who would have thought.

Kivas rolled her eyes, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "Meet Blanchette, my most beloved and well-respected sister, who’d slack off forever if I didn’t bind her with an Unrelenting Vow to keep her useful."

Blanchette gave an exaggerated curtsy, her smile just as sarcastic. "Likewise, I’m the adoring sister of Vaingall’s sovereign, who dotes on me endlessly." She winked at Karen. "It is my utmost to be in the presence of my dearest sister, her lover, and a cute hamster that found herself in a confusing predicament~"

Karen caught the sarcasm instantly, her mind piecing it together, these two definitely don’t get along.

Karen then cleared her throat, extending a hand. "I’m Karen Wong, pleased to—"

Blanchette leaned in close—too close—her eyes gleaming with mischief. "Karen Wong, huh? That hole in your chest—is it an illusion or a removed reality?"

Karen froze, her hand flying to her chest, the phantom ache flaring. "How do you—what do you mean?"

Kivas waved a dismissive hand, her smile reassuring. "Don’t mind her. Blanchette’s just creepy and obnoxious like that. You’ll get used to it."

Blanchette pouted playfully, tossing her fruit core into a nearby bin. "I’m just curious! And Samael, you’re not even bristling at her hogging Kivas’s attention? That’s new."

Samael shrugged, unfazed. "Why would I? She’s a harmless youngling. Needs to be fed wisdom to survive Fathomi’s chaos."

Kivas laughed, turning to Karen. "Samael’s got a prideful urge to share her boundless wisdom with Fathomi’s clueless—like you. But only if they’ve got my approval first."

Samael nodded, her smirk faint but smug. "Exactly. I don’t waste my brilliance on just anyone anymore."

Karen’s stomach growled loudly, cutting through the banter. She flushed, clutching her midsection.

Kivas noticed, her smile softening. "All this touring must be tiring for a mortal vessel. Let’s fix that."

She clapped her hands, and Samael activated a skill.

The ground beneath them—except Blanchette—rippled like liquid earth, swallowing them in a smooth, non-disorienting pull.

They reappeared near a temple surrounded by lush fields, where Claturians tended glowing fruits and whispering vines.

Kivas brought her inside.

The temple’s interior was a feast for the senses, a grand dining table laden with Vaingall’s delicacies—sugary crystalline pastries, vegetables with luminescent broth, roasted meats traded from afar, infused with ethereal spices.

Kivas gestured to the spread. "I figured your body would need sustenance soon. This was prepared in advance."

A Divine Construct, its void-essence form flickering with pale flames, guided Karen to a seat.

She hesitated, eyeing the vibrant dishes. "Is it... okay to eat this?"

Kivas’s hand swept outward, her smile warm. "Go ahead. Ask for seconds if you want."

Karen dove in, her fork piercing a glowing fruit that burst with flavors—sweet, tangy, and impossibly rich.

She moved to a pastry, its texture melting like a cloud, then a savory meat that sparked warmth through her veins.

Tears pricked her eyes as she ate, the divine tastes overwhelming her senses.

"I’ve never... this is unreal," she mumbled between bites, her stomach bloating from the sheer volume that she didn’t realize about how much she had consumed before even talking. "If I could eat like this every day, I’d trade Earth’s tech and internet for it in a heartbeat."

Kivas chuckled, leaning back in her chair. "Well, good news, I’m working on bringing the internet to Vaingall."

"Then I don’t mind being unable to go back," Karen gave a thumbs up."

"But it’s low on the list—too many projects to secure this place first."

Karen swallowed a bite, curious. "What kind of projects?"

Kivas’s eyes gleamed with purpose. "Ones to make this place I cherished, Vaingall, impossible to destroy or invade...

"A sanctuary that stands against Fathomi’s chaos."