A Mutant Collector Quest

THRUM!

A sudden sound pulls me from my thoughts. A swirling purple portal appears before me, its mana radiating with such intensity that I instinctively raise a psionic shield around myself. Combat readiness overtakes my surprise.

Before my astonished eyes, a leg—perfectly shaped, human in appearance—steps out of the portal. Following it, a woman emerges, her presence almost ethereal. She is draped in skin-tight purple attire that shimmers faintly with magic, clinging to her flawless figure. The neckline reveals a tantalizing hint of cleavage, and her skin glows like porcelain against the dark, otherworldly backdrop. Most striking of all is her hair—long, pristine white, radiating a soft, luminous light that seems to push back the surrounding shadows.

In her hand, she wields a whip forged of purple mana, its edges crackling faintly with energy. Her beauty is otherworldly, a mesmerizing vision that makes it impossible to look away.

"Who are you, and why are you standing outside my house?" she asks, her voice soft yet tinged with confusion. The alien tongue she speaks is unfamiliar, yet melodic, almost hypnotic. Her enchanting blue eyes, impossibly vivid, lock onto yours, as though searching your very soul.

Through my Mana Sight, the sight is even more astonishing. Black and swirling purple mana flows effortlessly into her body from the surrounding space, as if she is a part of this realm itself. Her entire being radiates power, blending seamlessly with the environment in a way that defies explanation.

It seems my luck is unparalleled—even in the middle of nowhere, the alien I encounter has the form of a stunning, human-like woman.

"Hello, gorgeous," I say with a charming smile, keeping my invisible psionic shield active just in case. Still, I doubt I will need it—my smile has always been my most reliable defense, one capable of disarming even the Elf Queen of Alfheim herself.

"I am Lucas Watson. Sorry about the intrusion; I was just taking a rest here and didn't realize this space rock was your home," I add, meeting her gaze while inwardly preparing for any hostile response.

"So, you just stumbled upon this place?" she asks, her narrowed eyes scrutinizing me as her grip on the purple mana whip slackens slightly.

"Yes, it was a happy accident," I reply with an easy grin, sensing that a conversation, rather than a fight, might be in my immediate future.

"Alright, I will believe you... for now," she says as the whip dissipates, reforming into raw mana that melds back into the surroundings. She tilts her head slightly. "Lucas Watson? What kind of creature are you?" Her tone is curious as she starts circling me, observing me closely.

I smile wryly at her question.

What kind of creature? Lady we look pretty similar don't we? Is she confused because I am a man and she is a woman? Is this some sort of Goku-meets-Bulma kind of situation, like in the early days of Dragon Ball?

But then my eyes catch hers—those shining blue orbs brimming with something beyond mortal comprehension. Maybe her 'eyes' don't just see the physical. After all, I am only able to perceive her form through Mana Sight and Clairvoyance, not with normal vision.

It dawns on me: while her mana, beauty, and otherworldly presence scream 'alien', to her, I am the alien.

"I am a human from Earth," I say plainly, watching closely to see if she reacts to the 'local' term from my planet.

"Earth?" she exclaims, halting mid-step. Her brows lift in what looks like genuine surprise. "But I have heard the people of Earth are... quite ugly. Can such a fair creature as you really be from Earth?" She eyes me even more intently, her curiosity now fully piqued.

"You know about Earth?" This time, it's my turn to be surprised. Maybe this dimension isn't as alien and isolated as I initially thought. I decide to let the 'ugly' comment slide—it might not even be an insult, just an observation. To be fair, Earth's population probably wouldn't stack up in the looks department if everyone in this dimension was as enthralling as she was.

"Of course, I know of Earth," she says, her tone matter-of-fact. "It's where the powerful Ancient One resides."

My eyes widen in surprise. Even here, my teacher's reputation precedes her. And judging by her tone, it seems like the Ancient One might even have celebrity status here.

"Eh… How do you know about my teacher?" I ask, trying to sound only half as astonished as I actually feel.

"Teacher? Are you really the Ancient One's student?" she asks, stepping closer, her blue eyes lighting up with excitement.

"Yes, and not just any student," I reply with a confident grin. "I am her personal student." I can't help the inward smirk—the Ancient One had never actually declined my bold proposition.

"Wow!" Her eyes widen with astonishment and delight. "So you must also be a chief disciple, just like my father!"

"Your father is the chief disciple of the Ancient One?" I ask, thoroughly perplexed. The Ancient One never mentioned having other personal students, though, to be fair, I had only met her today and haven't even officially started my training yet.

She quickly shakes her head. "Oh, no! My father is the chief disciple of our Lord—the Dread Dormammu!" she says proudly.

HUMM!!

The space around me vibrates, dark black mana surging ominously as she mentions that name.

My eyes widen even further, almost wanting to pop out, as the realization hits me—this broken, lightless domain is the Dark Dimension.

It all makes sense now, why this place felt like a patchwork of different worlds. Because that's exactly what it is—a dimension expanded and carved out by consuming countless others.

I also realise why the Ancient One refrained from commenting when I chose this path. She must have known, from the aura alone, what path it might be leading to.

"Sorry, I never asked your name," I say with a polite smile, the pieces of the puzzle finally clicking into place about the woman standing before me.

"My name is Clea," she replies simply.

Clea. Of course. My hunch was correct.

"Clea is such a glorious name," I say with a warm smile, inwardly astonished that fate had brought me face-to-face with her in this vast, chaotic dimension.

"So, did your teacher send you here? Is she going to fight our Lord again?" she asks, excitement flashing in her blue eyes.

"No, at least, I don't think so. But she did send me here. You could say I am here to travel and learn about different dimensions," I reply with a wry smile.

"That sounds so wise—just as I would expect from the one who dares to fight against our Lord," she says, her tone humble yet filled with admiration. "Though I do wish I could witness one of their battles. I have heard so many legends…" she trails off, a yearning expression crossing her face.

"So that's how you know of her," I murmur in understanding. Then, smiling, I add, "Clea, you said this was your home, correct? Instead of talking out here, wouldn't you invite me inside?"

"You… want to come inside my house?" she asks, her eyes wide with surprise.

"Yes. Would that be a problem? Is it because I am a disciple of the Ancient One?" I ask curiously. Given her mention of the battles between the Ancient One and Dormammu, I had expected hostility, yet there is none of that from her.

"No, no! I would really like that," she says, her smile growing as happiness radiates from her. "Come in through here, please." With a graceful swipe of her hand, the shimmering purple portal forms again.

I nod and step through the portal, keeping my psionic shield still up as a precaution. On the other side, I find myself in a rocky room illuminated by small, glowing purple orbs scattered across the ceiling. The space is sparse, with seats carved from stone and little else. At least there is some kind of gravity existing here, that's the only plus.

Clea follows behind me, the portal closing behind her with a wave of her hand. Her smile hasn't faded, and she seems almost overjoyed.

"You look happy. Even excited," I remark, my power Emotion Smelling confirming her joy.

"Sorry, Lucas Watson, it's just… I don't have many people over at my house," she says with an awkward smile. "Why don't you sit here?" She walks to one of the stone seats and pats the one next to her, her enthusiasm evident.

"Call me Luke. That's what my friends call me," I say as I sit down.

"Friends," Clea mutters, her gaze dropping to the ground, a shadow crossing her expression.

"Why don't you have many visitors, Clea?" I ask gently.

"Most people keep their distance from me," she says with a wry smile.

"Why's that?" I ask already guessing the answer.

"Well…" She hesitates, as if choosing her words carefully. "It's because my father is the one who can converse with God, making him almost as holy. And so they address me respectfully as the Princess, but they always keep their distance."

She doesn't know it yet, but I do—from my meta knowledge—that they call her Princess not just because of her father's connection to Dormamu, but because she is the rightful heir of this dimension, and her father is its rightful King.

As I look at her gorgeous face I smile wryly, realizing that once again, I have found my self entangled with a royalty from another dimension. From Queens to Princesses, there seems to be a repeating pattern here!

***

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