Vastarael stepped out of the elevator with Phaenora beside him. The two were wrapped in plain travel cloaks. No one would know that one of them was the literal Dynasty Monarch and the other was a Divine who could terrify the kingdom with a single giggle. They were just two women strolling hand-in-hand into the largest, brightest and wildest Borough in all of Anqerise.
Lower Rise.
Phaenora's fingers slipped comfortably between Vastarael's. His... her disguise was flawless, from the soft contour of her jaw to the long white hair tied in a messy ponytail. She looked like a young woman from a wealthy merchant family who decided to go slumming for fun. Meanwhile, Phaenora looked like… well, Phaenora. The cloak hid nothing about her beauty. If anything, it made her more suspiciously eye-catching. But at least they weren't glowing or levitating or accidentally leaking Divinity.
Phaenora leaned in and whispered, "Darling, this doesn't feel like underground. This feels like a whole different world."
"Oh trust me," Vastarael chuckled, voice just slightly deeper than her frame suggested—she kept forgetting she was disguised as a woman—"Most people topside think Lower Rise is some gloomy cave. You'll see."
The doors opened and Phaenora's jaw dropped.
Lower Rise hit them with an explosion of neon-blue lighting, walkways, floating Praesits gliding between suspended platforms and towering buildings carved directly into the cavern walls. Holograms flickered above the crowds. Some were advertisements for weapon shops, barrier technicians, potion markets and even a couple of questionable food stalls promising "100% safe for all species."
A perpetual twilight ambiance filled the air. The bioluminescent moss lining sections of the ceiling reflected off metal surfaces, while massive pillars pulsed with energy fed directly from Amaniya's core grid.
It was a cyberpunk civilization but cleaned up, polished, fantastical, and absolutely thriving.
People from every race walked shoulder-to-shoulder with zero tension. Demons with casual outfits, Therianthrope foxes in sleek jackets, a dwarf metalworker debating rates with a Demon tailor and even a trio of Humans sharing a skewer platter with a Demon hybrid. There was no hostility or segregation.
Phaenora tugged at Vastarael's sleeve. "This is the lower section?"
"Yep."
"This is the section for the 'lower rank' citizens?"
"Also yes."
"They live better than half the surface kingdoms, Veneri."
"Triple yes."
She smacked his arm lightly. "Stop being smug while disguised."
"I'm sorry—" Vastarael flicked her hair dramatically "—this is my feminine era. I'm obligated to be a little smug."
Phaenora wheezed.
They walked farther in, passing a hovering Praesit that slowed down to let passengers hop onto it. A group of children—one with dragon wings, another with fox ears, another with translucent elf-like skin—ran past them laughing. Phaenora watched them.
"According to records, hybrids made Interacia Kingdom, but why did these ones stay here?"
"Because my father asked them what kind of place they wanted to live in. They said they wanted a home where no one would judge what they were or who they came from. It was to be somewhere away from kingdom politics, but close enough to the world to take part in it."
"And he built this?"
"He carved this entire cavern system with his own Divine Energy. Then they expanded it generation after generation. For millennia it's been their sanctuary."
"He built paradise underground."
"Pretty much. Richinaria does things efficiently."
"And dramatically," she added.
They walked along a suspended walkway overlooking the Lower Rise markets. Below them, the platform metropolis sprawled like a sea of blue lights and metallic petals.
"Alright, Veneri, explain this meritocracy thing. You said Amaniya and Mintheris use it, but I didn't realize Lower Rise was part of that system."
"Okay," Vastarael nodded, leaning beside her. "So, meritocracy in these kingdoms isn't the same as the old mortal concept of 'work hard, climb ranks, good luck.' Here, the system is designed to be fair. You move up based on your contributions to society. Doesn't matter your race, background, poverty level or Divine ancestry."
"Contributions like?"
"Defense work, innovation, education, city maintenance, crafting, barrier optimization, public service. Basically, anything that strengthens Amaniya or Mintheris."
"And Lower Rise is where the lower-ranked citizens start out?"
"Technically yes, but 'lower' here doesn't mean miserable. Lower Rise isn't a slum. It's a starting point and a home for people building their merit records. When they accumulate enough merit, they transfer to Upper Rise or anywhere they want. Most eventually move up. Some choose to stay. Honestly? A lot stay because the lifestyle here is easier."
"So they just… live here, work, build merit, and climb as high as they want?"
"Exactly."
"No discrimination?"
"None. Species, abilities, lineage, none of that matters here."
"And it works?"
Vastarael gestured grandly to the gleaming underground metropolis.
"Look around."
She did and she couldn't deny it. Lower Rise functioned like the blueprint for utopia.
"You know what? I get why people worship your father. This is insane."
"Richinaria doesn't do temples but yeah. The old man did kind of go off."
They resumed walking, passing a small café built into the cavern wall. Holographic menus floated above the counter. An elf barista waved cheerfully at passing customers. Nearby, a Human-Dragon hybrid couple shared glowing blue pastries. Phaenora squeezed Vastarael's hand.
"So what exactly are we doing here today?"
"Tour inspection. Oh, and talking to the Kingdom Sovereign."
"In disguise."
"In disguise. Because if we didn't disguise, we wouldn't walk ten feet without a parade forming out of thin air."
"You're exaggerating."
"No, I'm actually not. Phae, last time I visited Upper Rise without a disguise, someone fainted just from me smiling near them."
"Okay yeah, never mind, the cloak stays."
------
The café door slid open with a soft chime as Vastarael and Phaenora stepped inside, shaking off the faint chill of Lower Rise's environmental systems. The place was cozy with sleek metal tables, soft-blue lighting and a gentle hum of conversation layered over ambient synth music. A couple of holographic fish floated lazily over the counter for no reason other than aesthetic. Decoration fish were expensive after all.
They slipped into a booth by the wall. The moment they sat, both pulled their hoods back.
Vastarael's disguise shimmered a little before fading. Even with her gender swapped, she was beautiful. Phaenora lowered her hood too. Immediately, her irises flickered before a veil of hologram static rippled over her eyes, concealing them completely.
"Phae, you good?"
"Mm. Perfectly safe." She gestured at the glitchy mask over her eyes. "No one's going to recognize me like this."
Vastarael pointed at her. "Phaenora. Your hair is literally sapphire."
"No one cares. This is Lower Rise. Everyone down here looks like a walking aesthetic."
Before Vastarael could argue, an elf waitress approached their table with a bright smile.
"Welcome! Can I take—"
She stopped. Her eyes widened. The elf froze because she was staring directly at Vastarael's face. Vastarael looked up from the menu with the most unintentionally devastating expression, speaking politely.
"Um… hello?"
The waitress' ears literally twitched. Phaenora coughed into her hand. Hard.
"Veneri, stop existing like that."
"I'm literally just breathing," he hissed back.
The elf regained enough consciousness to hand them their menus. Vastarael stared at his in confusion.
"What… is this? Is this… food? Why is it glowing? Food shouldn't glow."
He poked a picture of something that looked like floating noodles trapped in a bowl.
"I've never seen any of this before."
Phaenora casually snatched the holographic menu from the elf's hand, leaned back, and smirked.
"Of course you haven't. You've lived your entire life eating royal meals cooked by chef prodigies. They don't serve honey gelato spheres in the palace kitchens."
"Should they?" Vastarael asked innocently.
"No."
The elf waitress was still visibly malfunctioning, torn between professionalism and the overwhelming urge to stare at Vastarael's face. Phaenora sighed, reached out and gently took the waitress's hand. The elf made a sound similar to a startled squeak. Phaenora closed her eyes for two seconds, just enough to skim surface-level knowledge.
"Alright," she said smoothly, releasing the thoroughly-dazed elf. "We'll take two of the berry frost drinks, a plate of the flora rolls, and… that glow cheesecake."
The waitress nodded aggressively.
"Y-yes! Right away!"
She nearly tripped over her own feet running to the counter.
"Did you just use Memory Extraction on her?"
Phaenora shook her head immediately.
"No. Not extraction. Just… observation through physical contact."
"So Memory Extraction."
"Shh."
He snorted. "So you also had no idea what was on the menu."
"I refuse to confirm or deny that."
"Phae—"
"Let me be mysterious, Veneri."
"Fine. Live your truth."
They both sank into the cushy booth cushions, watching the swirling lights of Lower Rise through the café windows. A moment passed before Vastarael felt the stares. He sighed heavily, rubbing his temples.
"Phae, everyone is staring at me again."
Phaenora didn't even look up. "Mm-hmm."
"Look around. That guy in the corner nearly dropped his drink. That wolf Therianthrope at the counter is pretending to tie her shoes for the fourth time. Why is this happening even as a woman?"
"Because," Phaenora said dryly, tapping her finger against his forehead, "your Boon is literally Ethereal Beauty. You are universally required to be hot. Gender has zero impact. You could be a rock and people would still stare at you."
Vastarael stared at her.
"That doesn't help."
She smirked. "It wasn't supposed to."
He exhaled dramatically, slumping into the booth while a group of college-aged hybrids whispered excitedly and stole glances his way. Phaenora patted his hand in fake sympathy.
"Welcome to being pretty."
"I hate it."
"No you don't."
"Okay maybe not fully but still."
She leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder.
"Just enjoy the moment, Veneri. You're anonymous, gorgeous, and having lunch with your extremely sexy girlfriend in a cyberpunk café underground. Life is good."
He smiled softly, wrapping an arm around her.
"Yeah… life is pretty good."