Kalpana S.Y.S.T.E.M.: Param Yatra

In a prayer room bathed in the soft light of twin suns, Solleon knelt before the idols of the Divines, thanking them for another blessed day.

His peace lasted three minutes.

Satanah barged in without a shred of decency or respect. Why haven’t the Divines smitten this walking blasphemy yet? Solleon side-eyed her and sighed. His heart already knew what was coming.

“Master.” Her voice was gentle as poisoned honey. “I’ve run out of Sophics. Please, order more for me.”

A maiden of innocent, yet pure evil. That was Satanah. Behind her, in the hallway, a batch of fresh Sophics was caught halfway through Devilization—writhing, twisting, their artificial souls corrupting into something as black as spoiled ink.

Solleon’s lip curled at them.

He turned away, rubbed his temples, and pulled up his balance on his HUD. The number stared back. His heart sank. He was bleeding a fifth of his income on Sopics and Sophics for these ‘companions’ of his.

Why was his luck always this shit? Always summoning troublemakers. Even the ‘good’ ones weren't any better. And his Luck stat—useless as ever—wasn't helping.

She shrugged. “You haven't been dungeon diving, so I ran out of souls to work with.”

A pause. Then her smile stretched wide—hopeful, cute, brimming with malice.

“Unless... you let me go outside.” She tilted her head, eyes wide, expression painted in pure innocence. “Please? I promise I’ll only target the bad guys.” She rushed forward, pressing her lips to his hands.

Liar.

“Don’t even dream about it,” he said. His gaze didn't waver.

“Maaaaaster...” Another tantrum began. She swept a half-Devilized Sophic that it hurled at the wall crashing.

He let out a heavy sigh.

Then the doorway darkened. A frame so massive Solleon barely reached her chest shouldered through the arch. Fresh blood stained her tunic.

“Master, I ran out of food again.”

Krónē. This mad titan. Her stomach rumbled, and inside it, Sopics screamed.

Another headache. When would she stop eating like a savage?

“It hasn’t even been a month,” Solleon sighed, rubbing his temples. “How quickly did you—”

Wait, screaming? He couldn’t help but laugh. Had she actually started customizing them to scream?

Great...

Her palate was getting more refined, huh? Basic models weren’t enough anymore. Custom builds Sopics, now? Is that where they were at?

Really... great...

Was he going to have to increase her allowance next?

“You—” He started, but let it go. What was the point?

He wondered if he really should just stop investing in his Luck stat.

P.S: This is my first time writing a novel ever. Like literally so I'm not sure what I'm doing lol.