{a cruel meeting}
The cold, echoing voice of the Sorcerer King was a physical weight in the oppressive silence of the hall. He was a creature of sharp angles and shadow, his face a mask of cold indifference. He looked at Selena, a flicker of something akin to curiosity in his glowing eyes, as if she were a new and interesting specimen of insect.
"So," he began, his voice devoid of warmth. "You've been expecting me."
Selena's heart hammered a frantic rhythm against her ribs. She was standing before a being of immense magical power, a being who could erase her from existence with a single thought. But her mind, a fortress built on years of subverting plots, was already running through scenarios. She had to survive long enough to find Liam. Six years. She had to live for six years in a world that wanted her dead. She had to navigate a political landscape where her own existence was a ticking clock, a countdown to her own demise.
The Sorcerer King, without waiting for a response, gestured with a long, elegant finger. A phantom image shimmered in the air before them, a haunting and prophetic vision. It was a projection of the future: herself, on her twentieth birthday, standing on a massive stone altar, bound in chains. She was surrounded by a furious mob of robed figures, their faces twisted with hatred. Her hair was matted with grime, her once-delicate clothes in tatters. They were screaming, calling her a "traitor" and a "malicious witch." And then, in a flash of blinding magical light, she was gone.
The projection vanished, leaving a cold, empty feeling in the air. The Sorcerer King smiled, a cruel, mirthless curve of his lips. "That is your destiny, little princess. Six years from now, you will be offered as a sacrifice to appease the gods of this realm. Unless, of course, you prove yourself useful."
He was not a cruel monster who reveled in suffering; he was a pragmatic ruler, a being who saw everything in terms of utility and purpose. She was a tool, a resource to be used and discarded.
Selena, however, was not one to be used. She had just spent an entire life proving that. She had to convince him that she was more than a sacrificial lamb. She had to make herself invaluable.
"Your Majesty," she began, her voice steady and clear despite the tremor in her hands. "I am not a weapon to be used and discarded. I am a resource. I can see things others cannot. I know things others do not."
The Sorcerer King's glowing eyes narrowed. "Everyone believes they are special, little princess. But what can you, a mere human, offer to a being who controls all of creation?"
"I can offer you information," she replied, her mind racing. "I know who your enemies are, not just the ones you can see, but the ones who hide in the shadows. I know their plans, their weaknesses, and their secrets. I can offer you a solution to your most pressing problem: a rebellion brewing in the northern territories, led by a faction of rogue mages."
The Sorcerer King's smile vanished. He had not known about the rebellion. It was a secret, a subplot that had yet to come to fruition in the original manhwa. The information was a golden key. It was a truth she could offer, and it was a truth he would have to acknowledge.
"How do you know this?" he demanded, his voice a low growl. "Are you a spy?"
"No," she said, her voice dropping to a low, conspiratorial whisper. "I am an observer. I have a unique perspective on this world. I am a ghost in the machine. I can help you see the things you cannot."
She didn't reveal the System or the manhwa. She presented herself as a seer, a woman with a powerful but ethereal ability to see the world from a different vantage point. It was a bold claim, a high-stakes gamble. But it was the only thing she had left to bargain with.
The Sorcerer King watched her for a long, silent moment. She could feel his power, a suffocating weight that threatened to crush her. But she held her ground. She was no longer a terrified noblewoman. She was a strategist, and she was playing the long game.
"Very well," he said, the corner of his lips twitching upwards in a rare display of amusement. "Consider this your first task. Prove your worth, little seer. We will see if your visions are more than just the ramblings of a terrified child."
A new screen, a faint, translucent blue, appeared before her. It was not the System. It was a new kind of interface, a new kind of magic.
"Task: Provide actionable intelligence regarding the northern rebellion. Failure will result in death."
The screen vanished. She had done it. She had survived her first encounter with the Sorcerer King. She had bought herself time, not just for herself, but for Liam. Six years. Six years to find a way to break free, to understand this new, terrifying world, and to find the only other person who truly understood what she was. She was a pawn in a terrifying new game, but she was a pawn with a plan, a ghost in a machine that wanted her to die. Her sentence had begun, and her survival depended on her ability to use the past to survive the future.