LunaWolve
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[ND] Chapter 155 - Unexpected Outcomes
🕑 Added 2025-11-17 20:00:09 +0000 UTC---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
------------------- Start of Pre-Chapter Author Note (Patreon-only) -------------------
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Hello everyone, LunaWolve here!
Chapter 150 - Long-Awaited Talks III has just released on RR with no major changes.
For the Fixers, this chapter is new.
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Final chapter of the lengthy "Consequences" Arc wrap-up.
We're back to regularly scheduled Sera-adventures on the next one.
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I'm looking forward to hearing your first impressions and opinions on this chapter. \o/
I hope you will enjoy it!
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-------------------- End of Pre-Chapter Author Note (Patreon-only) ------------------- ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Here is the link to the chapter:
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1SI8gxxw-vF9TUM3LqHqucdGKTaRWM9g9A0jW3-Su0g8/edit?usp=sharing
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Chapter 155 - Unexpected Outcomes
I was half-tempted to just shut my eyes again and pretend I hadn’t seen her, but considering I’d been staring directly into her gaze like a startled deer, even I knew that particular ruse wasn’t going to get me anywhere.
So instead, I leaned into the one thing I didn’t have to fake: the pain.
A low, guttural groan escaped me as I shifted on the mattress. Everything hurt.
Not “I worked out too hard” hurt—more like I had been disassembled, dropped down a flight of stairs, reassembled by someone drunk, and then forced to sleep on it.
Even turning my head the couple of degrees needed to stop straining my eyes felt like trying to peel my own spine apart.
It took every ounce of willpower I had not to hiss or swear out loud.
“W… what’s going on?” I asked, my voice cracking in a way that almost sold the act too well. Even my throat felt sore—whether from screaming earlier or because the Upgrade had reworked things there, too, I couldn’t tell.
Either way, it was perfect cover.
[Deception] didn’t have much to work with given the circumstances, but it leaned hard into the “confused victim of mysterious Anima nonsense” angle. And honestly? It wasn’t even the worst story.
It was closer to the truth than anything else I could’ve said.
If I’d known Rank 6 upgrades hurt that much, I would’ve staggered them; pushed Body to another day and not tried to cram everything into a single twenty-four-hour death march.
But I hadn’t, and now Valeria was witnessing the aftermath of my stupidity firsthand.
‘Just play dumb, Sera. You are dumb for doing this. Lean into it. You’re a natural, after all.’
Valeria didn’t answer me.
Didn’t even acknowledge my words.
Her attention was fixed on me—specifically on my neck, my face, my arms. The rest of me was under the blanket, but the intensity of her stare made me feel like even that wouldn’t have stopped her if she wanted to see more.
Her expression wasn’t anger, however. Or suspicion. Or any of the “this-is-definitely-bad” emotions that I had half-expected to show up.
Instead, it was fascination.
A hungry, analytical sort of awe—like she was watching a rare chemical reaction bloom in a petri dish.
She kept flicking her gaze between my eyes and different parts of my body, pupils narrowing slightly each time.
I didn’t need to be an expert to guess what was happening.
She probably had her Anima Sight active—and if Miss K’s descriptions were anything to go by, my entire body was currently lighting up like a damn fireworks display.
Sprites of every color—maybe green, cause the System had been doing things with my body?—probably danced across my form while the System continued stitching me back together on the inside.
“W… why am I so sore…?” I pushed again, letting another small, genuine wince slip as I tried—and failed—to move my legs.
That seemed to snap her out of whatever trance she’d been in.
Her eyes refocused for real this time, locking onto mine, searching for something.
I froze, caught like a deer in headlights, trying to hold the perfect balance between confused and alert—enough awareness to make sense, but not enough to raise suspicion.
‘Come on, Valeria… I’m just a confused girl trying to make sense of whatever weird Anima thing I’ve got going on,’ I told myself, forcing my gaze to stay steady. ‘Nothing else. No secrets. Just pure confusion and some vague idea that it might be related to the other Anima stuff I told you about yesterday. It makes perfect sense, I promise. Please don’t connect the dots.’
Because if she did—if she even suspected something like the System sat behind all this—I’d be dealing with a whole different flavor of nightmare. One I wasn’t even remotely equipped to handle while flat on my back, sweating, shaking, and barely able to breathe without wanting to scream.
The silence stretched.
Every breath I took sent a sharp jolt through my ribs, so I ended up doing these quick, shallow half-inhales that probably made me look like a panicked animal.
Not ideal.
But also… very accurate to how I felt.
Finally, Valeria’s gaze stopped dissecting my face and drifted back over my arms, my shoulders—whatever she was watching with that laser-focused intensity.
And then she spoke.
“I had hoped you might offer clarity regarding your current state, Seraphine,” she said, tone slipping back toward that casual-corporate cadence she always used, even if a slight casualness still colored the edges. “But it appears you are not fully cognizant of it either. Miss Kanis has given you the basic framework on Sprite coloration and their functions, I presume?”
The wave of relief that crashed through me nearly made me dizzy.
“Yes—some. Nothing in-depth,” I managed, trying to push myself a little higher against the pillows. I just hated lying there like some fragile little thing while she was talking down at me.
But the moment I lifted even a centimeter, Valeria raised a hand—her left, of course; the right still limp and useless—and motioned sharply for me to stop.
“Do not strain yourself unnecessarily, Seraphine.” Her voice softened only by a fraction. “Your body is undergoing a form of… metamorphosis, for lack of a more precise term. I have not witnessed something comparable in many years. It is… genuinely remarkable.”
Her eyes flicked over me again, bright with a restrained, analytical fascination.
“You mentioned discomfort. Is it acute pain, or merely strain? I have injectors at hand that would mitigate the symptoms, but I am reluctant to risk interfering with the process. From what I can discern, none of the Sprites are harming you—instead, they appear to be correcting certain, substantial underlying damage.”
I blinked at her—partly because I hadn’t expected such a straightforward info-dump, partly because I didn’t even have to fake the intrigue that crossed my face.
She’d just casually confirmed that:
Sprites were, in-fact, absolutely swarming me right now.
They had identifiable patterns and “jobs.”
People like Valeria could read those patterns off the surface of someone’s body like it was a diagnostic chart, to get insight into what was going on inside their bodies.
‘I’m sure that has some kind of massive implications,’ I thought, still wincing at a lingering tremors in my body, ‘but I am nowhere near educated enough in Anima stuff to figure out what.’
Her offer of painkillers was genuinely tempting—painkillers sounded great right now—but the idea of shoving foreign chemicals into my system while the System was actively rearranging my very cells? Yeah, no.
I’d rather not tempt fate. Well… More than I already had.
I swallowed, wincing again as my sore throat scratched.
“Not acute,” I said slowly. “Just… really bad muscle soreness. The worst I’ve ever had. By a lot.”
Valeria gave a small, considering hum before answering. “Then you will have to endure it. I do not wish to interfere when I cannot guarantee the outcome.”
‘Of course. Tough it out, no biggie... Classic Valeria.’
She moved on immediately, eyes narrowing slightly. “Are you capable of invoking Anima Sight on demand, Seraphine?”
“No,” I croaked. “I require assistance in accumulating the Sprites to turn it off.”
Valeria clicked her tongue.
Actually clicked her tongue at my answer.
A full-body instinctive flinch went off inside me, like some part of my brain had decided that was the sound royalty made right before having someone executed.
I blinked at her, wondering if she practiced that in a mirror or if it really did just come naturally at her altitude on the social food chain. But Valeria didn’t acknowledge the moment at all, simply continued on like she hadn’t just clicked her tongue at me like an offended duchess.
“That is… something that will need to be addressed posthaste,” she said, the hint of annoyance slipping beneath her exhausted control. “Is Miss Kanis capable of teaching you the technique?”
“I—I mean, possibly?” I managed. “We haven’t really dug into the whole Anima side of things yet. She’s, uh… trying to get more info from her own teacher first.”
Valeria nodded thoughtfully, gaze drifting for a few heartbeats. Whatever she was calculating in that head of hers, I was sure it would terrify me if I saw the full flowchart.
“Then you will ask her for a timeframe at the next possible opportunity,” she said, tone that brookered no argument. “Given that she is not employed to tutor you in Anima theory, she will likely have limited room to deviate from your scheduled training. If she can introduce the technique within the next month, that is acceptable.”
I already heard the but coming.
“If she cannot,” Valeria continued, confirming my suspicions, “you will inform me immediately. I will instruct you personally, should that be the case.”
My thoughts made a small, strangled noise, somewhere between confusion, excitement and fear.
“Y…You?” I managed to squeak out.
“Yes, Seraphine. I will not have my daughter blind to the forces around her,” she said, tone cooling into something firm and resolute. “This World is intent on involving you, Seraphine, whether you wish to be a participant or not. Anima Sight is a foundational necessity for survival for you, from here on out. Your inability to call upon it is likely to prove fatal, if not addressed in a timely manner.”
The capital-W World, was something I could hear in her voice. The way she said it was like she was referencing something far bigger than the megacities, corporations, or the average threats that lurked within them.
Something ancient, downright ritualistic.
Something that made even her wary of the consequences of ignoring its attention.
I swallowed dryly, feeling another shiver trace down my spine.
Whatever she meant… I wasn’t sure I wanted to find out. Not anytime soon.
Valeria’s terms were… Well, they were Valeria’s terms.
I didn’t exactly have a better plan, nor did I want to try to convince her of one, should I have it, so I simply agreed with a quiet “Alright,” but she barely acknowledged it—if she even heard me at all.
Her attention stayed locked on the Sprites flickering over my skin, tracking their patterns with this sharp, clinical interest that made me feel like a walking anomaly more than anything else.
Before I could even think about asking what came next now that she’d returned, she spoke up again.
“I have brought all of your belongings from the old apartment,” she said, tilting her head slightly toward the door.
I followed her gaze and, sure enough, I could see the outline of my DuraPack and a small stack of folded clothes just behind the bed.
For a brief, cold moment, panic nipped at my spine—’The knives!’
She must have definitely seen all of Misha’s knives. The very knives I kept buying like a crow hoarding shiny objects, or a gremlin preparing for the apocalypse.
But if Valeria had noticed them, she treated it all with the same interest she might give a smudge on the wall.
Not worth her time. Not worth commenting on.
“That should allow you to rest a little easier,” she continued, as if dropping off an arsenal of weaponry was completely normal behavior. “For now, you shall remain in bed until the Sprites finish what they are doing, while I make sure that they do not deviate.”
I blinked at her. “Wait… deviate? They could… change their minds or something?”
Her lips twitched. “Unlikely. Without outside interference, Sprites behave as they are programmed. They take the instruction they are given, and they execute it. Nothing more, nothing less.”
She paused then, tapping a finger lightly against her knee, eyes narrowing in thought.
“But the World—” there it was again, capital W and all, “—can intervene. Rarely, but it happens. Direct interference can overwrite commands or shift them mid-task, especially in long-duration operations. Some of EtherLabs’ more… experimental projects require extended Sprite work, which means we must construct Anima-inert rooms to prevent the World from ‘guiding’ the process elsewhere.”
I stared at her, eyebrows creeping up. “The World guides things?”
“In its own way, yes. The World dislikes Sprites being locked into rigid, singular-purpose routines for too long. It pushes back. Redirects them. Sometimes subtly… oftentimes not.”
She gave a faint shrug, utterly unfazed by the idea of fucking reality itself micromanaging Anima-related stuff. “It is one of the primary risks for Master Practitioners, or so I am told—I am merely advanced, so I cannot confirm myself. But you need not worry yet. What is happening to you is decidedly in the span of short-term work. Relatively simple in complexity, if impressive in scale.”
‘Simple. Right…’ I couldn’t help but think.
Because having my very cells, tendons and muscles rebuilt and set on fire from the inside out definitely counted as simple on the Valeria Vildea scale of normal.
Naturally.
She shifted in her chair, settling in with quiet authority, like she fully intended to remain until every Sprite had finished its job. “Rest, Seraphine. I will remain here to ensure they do not deviate. It is unlikely, but not impossible, and I have no intention of risking your safety when the World has already shown such an interest in you.”
The capital W thudded around in my head like someone had dropped a dictionary on my skull. I wanted to ask—God, did I want to ask—but the second I tried to form an actual sentence, it all sounded idiotic.
‘What do you mean “the World with a capital W,” mother?’ Yeah. Fantastic idea. Peak fucking question right there, Sera. That’ll definitely get you a coherent answer that won’t confuse you more than it’ll help, I’m sure.’
What I needed was a damn primer. A textbook. A freaking cheat sheet for all this nonsense.
But the System sure as hell wasn’t handing out a guided tour so far, and Miss K’s lessons were stuck behind whatever mysterious teacher of hers she was waiting for approval on.
Maybe when I ranked up Anima again the System would deign to actually explain something.
Or maybe Miss K would finally get the greenlight and drop a textbook on me; that would be perfect.
What I absolutely couldn’t afford, however, was spending more time discussing Anima with Valeria than strictly necessary.
That much was obvious to me.
I was already skating on thin ice there with all this Upgrade nonsense going on right now.
One wrong question—one poorly phrased “why does my body glow like a rave factory during Upgrades”—and she’d be prying the System’s existence out of me thread by thread.
That was not happening, if I could, in any way, prevent it.
So, after running through every possible question I could come up with and discarding all of them for being too dangerous, too obvious, or too likely to send Valeria into a lengthy conversation I wouldn’t survive the inevitable questions of, I just… sank back against the pillow.
It hurt—my muscles screamed like I’d insulted their mothers—but weirdly, the pain grounded me.
And Valeria was still right there.
Watching. Guarding. Analyzing. Plotting.
Or doing whatever it truly was that Valeria did when the World stopped behaving to her liking.
Somehow, that thought was… reassuring?
Terrifying, obviously. But also strangely reassuring.
‘Never thought I’d think that having Valeria watch me like a hawk while the System was doing its thing would feel reassuring… yet here we are,’ I thought, almost laughing at myself if my ribs didn’t threaten to scream for trying.
Eventually, I managed to land on a question that wouldn’t drag us into any System-shaped minefields.
“What is the plan going forward, exactly?” I asked, testing my voice again. It wasn’t as scratchy now; the words actually came out in one piece. “Can I… return to working at Mr. Shori’s? Go to the Arkion Dojo? Leave the apartment? Or am I stuck here for however long it takes EtherLabs to figure things out?”
Valeria didn’t answer right away.
She kept watching the Sprites skating under my skin like I was a live feed she couldn’t afford to look away from.
Only when they shifted in some way I couldn’t see did she finally speak up again.
“You may leave once they’re finished,” she said, shifting her weight slightly as he ran her fingers through her hair. “I will confirm their work is complete before you step outside. If even one of them retains a task-thread, I want it resolved here and now.”
She said it like she was talking about loose wires in a reactor core.
“As for your safety…” Her eyes narrowed, that razor-sharp calculation creeping in. “You will not be targeted again anytime soon. Nyxstalker is… indisposed. Severely so. Losing his partial Black Carapace, and failing to bring back anything substantial… It will come with a mountain of personal and corporate-level fallout. His value to ApexWave is currently under review, I guarantee it. He will not be moving against you—or anyone—for quite some time.
“And should that situation change,” she added, tone dropping another few degrees, “I will inform you. And I will handle him personally.”
Yeah… Angry Valeria was a thing I never wanted to be within the same zip code of, that much was certain. The image alone made me want to burrow under the blanket and pretend to be asleep until the heat death of the universe.
“Barring that, there is nothing else you are required to do. I will arrange the firearms training we discussed earlier today. Expect the first session within a few days.”
That part came out matter-of-fact, like firearm training was on par with setting up a dentist appointment for her—which, considering this was Neo Avalis, might actually be easier, all things considered.
“Until then, your schedule is your own. Continue working at Mr. Shori’s if you wish. It is a valuable experience. And the Arkion Dojo—” she paused, just long enough for it to be noticeable as she thought about her word choices, “—I would recommend cultivating relationships there. If those young men and women are worth your time, the connections will serve you well as you grow. And you may find… friends.”
I blinked at that.
Friends.
Valeria Vildea—Queen of Corporate Apocalypse, High Priestess of Efficiency, She Who Weaponizes Language Against Family—thought I should get friends.
The irony almost made me laugh, but my diaphragm wasn’t quite ready for that level of ambition yet.
Still… hearing her say it threw me more than anything else she had said today.
Maybe she did have friends, against all odds. Or thought she did. Or wished she had.
Or maybe she was giving advice she’d never taken herself.
Hard to say, really.
I didn’t know her that well, after all.
‘Something that I might have to rectify at some point… Just not now, while I feel like liquid death and haven’t had time to really think through anything in regards to her.’
Valeria, meanwhile, simply returned her gaze to the Sprites.
With the conversation seemingly done and no other pressing matters to attend to from my end, I simply decided to close my eyes and try to take a nap—a normal one, without the Reset Function.
The last thing I needed was to give Valeria even more reasons to suspect that Anima was going haywire around me at all times.
The muscle soreness radiating through my entire body was bad enough that trying to nap was a true battle, but at some point, I finally felt myself drift off, vaguely dreaming of a less painful tomorrow…
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Comments
Paratus
I mean, her mother isn't wrong. The sequence of events that would lead a random person from one world into getting jacked into some girls cyberware in an alley by a Cyberpunk corpo that actually had a sense of morality?
jasper Vandycke
thanks for the chapter
