The Scum Emperor's Redemption System

She had heard worse, much worse. And the truth stung, yes, but she was self-aware. That was the problem, wasn't it? She knew exactly what she was, and what she had done. But knowing was never enough to change.

"Shut up," Argider muttered, her voice thick with frustration.

"Why?" The man's voice was sharp, full of mockery. "Do you think, in this timeline, you can get better?"

She didn't know. In truth, she had no idea what her other selves had done. No clue if they were any better, or worse than this one. But she didn't hesitate to answer. "Yes."

A collective, almost disappointed breath rippled through the air. They all exchanged glances, some incredulous, others downright amused. Then, a single voice broke the tension.

"She can." Explore stories on empire

It was Alvator. The smug, insufferable voice of reason. He floated lazily around the man, spinning in the air like he had all the time in the world. "I've seen her progress. Baby steps, at least..."

The group went silent, turning their attention back to Argider. She felt their gazes shift, studying her like some oddity on display.

And that's when it hit them: Why? Why does she look so different right now?

"How did you become a woman?"

Argider shifted awkwardly, eyes darting. She hadn't even asked herself that question.

Alvator shrugged, not a care in the world. "Don't ask me," he said, his voice indifferent. "I'm just here for the chaos."

Argider gave a small, sheepish smile. "I don't know either," she admitted, rubbing the back of her neck. "I just... I gained this Redemption System... or something."

"Redemption System?" Fialova scoffed, her gaze narrowing. The words almost sounded like a joke, but there was no humor in this situation. The physical evidence of everything they had seen, every shift in reality, every collapse of the world, was there. This wasn't some whimsical notion; it was far more terrifying than that.

Fialova's eyes turned cold again as she glanced at her companions. "It seems she's treating my other version well in her timeline. She even gave her magic..." The words were laced with reluctance, like the taste of something bitter on her tongue.

But there was no hiding the hatred in those eyes. Argider couldn't blame her. After all, in some alternate timeline, it had been Argider who had quite literally destroyed everything Fialova had built.

But the strangest thing was the uncertainty in Fialova's tone. She would have killed her without a second thought. But now?

"Perhaps we don't have to kill her," the quiet man said, his voice soft but deliberate. He stepped forward, pulling down his cloak with a fluid motion.

His face was weary, eyes sunken with age, despite his youthful appearance. He looked barely thirty, but his eyes told a different story. A faint beard clung to his chin, as if he hadn't bothered to shave in days or years. "We can punish her and use her. The other versions of her will probably come for her anyway. We need to task her with dealing with them."

"Do you really trust her to take care of that?" Fialova shot back, voice laced with skepticism.

"No," the man replied calmly, without hesitation. "Not at all. That's why we'll watch her. Be on her side." He gave a quiet, almost sad sigh. "Besides, sir Islo has become weakened."

A subtle nod of acknowledgment passed between the group, and suddenly it clicked. The Timekeeper. Argider hadn't fully understood his role or his purpose - until now. He wasn the overseer of time; but someone had been tampering with it. That was why he was so weak. Why the timelines were unraveling. Why everything was falling apart.

"That's right," the quiet man continued, his gaze turning toward the broken figure of Islo, the so-called Timekeeper. "Ever since Argider has been tampering with the timeline, he's been too unstable. Too weak to maintain his control."

Argider finally understood. The Timekeeper was supposed to be a force of balance, a stabilizer, but now... now, he was like a broken cog in an already malfunctioning machine. That was why he needed them. Why he needed her.

"I can collaborate with that," Alvator said, voice floating in from behind. "We can insert it into the Redemption System."

What had she become? What had she done? And now, now she was being given another chance? A chance to fix it all?

She took a deep breath, her hands trembling. And then, with quiet resolve, she stood. "I'll... I'll do that."Nôv(el)B\\jnn

The room fell silent. All eyes turned to her. Shock rippled through the air like a subtle vibration. They hadn't expected this. None of them had.

For the first time in what felt like forever, Argider felt like she might have just made the right choice.

Could she really fix it? Could she undo the mess she'd made or was she doomed to repeat it?

"Well, if you're serious, then…" Islo's voice was cold, detached, like he'd heard this kind of defiance a thousand times before. With a sudden, swift motion, he grabbed Argider's wrist.

A thunder of raw, searing energy shot through her body, hot and electric, like fire coursing through her veins.

It was as if her very cells were being rearranged, torn apart, and put back together again. Her body tensed involuntarily, but she couldn't move, couldn't even breathe as the power wrapped around her, binding her.

For a moment, everything went black. The world vanished, and in its place, there was nothing but that pulsating, overwhelming energy.

Then, like a brand being burned into her skin, a symbol appeared on her hand. It wasn't just a mark, it seared into her, a dark, intricate sigil that seemed to pulse with a life of its own.

"If you do anything against me," Islo's voice echoed in her mind, now colder than ever, "you're dead."

She opened her mouth to speak, to argue, but before she could form a sound, the world cracked around her once again. The fabric of reality split apart like brittle glass, and everything she had just witnessed, everything she had just felt, was torn away in an instant.

The next thing she knew, there was nothing but a crushing sense of weightlessness. Space, vast, endless space, swallowed her whole. Her body spun uncontrollably, as if she were floating in the void, surrounded by the cold, empty abyss.

But then, nothing.

Her body slammed against something soft, and she gasped, her breath catching in her throat. The sudden shift from the vastness of space to... bed?

Her mind couldn't keep up.

She blinked rapidly, trying to understand what had just happened. One moment, she was being marked, bound by energy, and the next?

She was lying on a bed.

Argider rubbed her eyes in disbelief. How had she gotten here? What just happened? She felt the weight of the mark still on her hand, but now it was quiet, dormant. Almost too still.

Was she still part of some twisted game? Or had she just been granted some kind of twisted mercy?

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