God Simulator: The Goddesses In The Simulation Are All Real

Fleet General Wyrn's expression darkened. "That's Lucy—the Fallen Angel."

Gasps rippled through the room as the name settled in.

Lucy, a Level 9.8 Overlord, was a figure shrouded in myth and fear. Her SSS-rank Fallen Angel: Lucifer gift had made her a living legend—and a harbinger of destruction.

Linsley's jaw tightened as he stared at the screen. He recognized her instantly, though the sight of her left him momentarily stunned.

Memories from the previous god simulation flooded his mind—Lucy had been his childhood sweetheart in that timeline, a bond forged through shared struggles and a shared escape from the horrors of their past.

Together with Ted, they had fled an orphanage where they had been sold as experimental subjects, their ordeal awakening their latent gifts.

But this? This was not the Lucy he had known.

"How...?" he muttered under his breath, his voice barely audible. "How is she here? And how did she become a Level 9.8 Overlord?"

Aurielle, still hidden, noted Linsley's reaction. Though she couldn't see his expression directly, the tension in his body and the faint edge to his voice told her everything. Whoever this woman was, she wasn't just another enemy to him.

Fleet General Wyrn's voice broke through Linsley's thoughts. "She's not just here to cause chaos. Our intelligence suggests she's after one of the experiment subjects—Ted."

Linsley's eyes widened slightly at the mention of Ted's name, his heart sinking. "Ted?" he asked, snapping out of his reverie. "What's so special about him?"

Wyrn's grim expression deepened. "Ted possesses the SS-rank Destruction gift. A year ago, he was abducted by Dominion researchers and has been held in Lab Theta-9 ever since. They've been trying to extract his gift, but so far, they've failed. Lucy is here to retrieve him."

The revelation hit Linsley like a hammer. Lucy wasn't just acting out of anger—this was personal. The pieces clicked into place as he considered the situation.

Ted had been part of their shared past in the previous god simulation, and though Ted wouldn't remember any of it now, Lucy likely did. If she still retained her memories, it made sense.

She must have taken Ted under her wing, treating him like a younger brother. Seeing him subjected to the same horrors they had once escaped would have been more than enough to ignite her fury.

Her ability to manipulate negative emotions, a power granted by her Fallen Angel: Lucifer gift, had unleashed the beast wave as a distraction. Meanwhile, she was cutting her way toward the lab, determined to free Ted.

"She's not going to stop," Linsley murmured, his voice low as he stared at the screen, watching her tear through Dominion defenses with terrifying precision.

Aurielle's voice, quiet but cutting, echoed faintly in his mind. "And neither should you."

Fleet General Wyrn's voice snapped the room to attention. "Prepare all available Overlords. We can't let her succeed. If she takes Ted, we lose not just an asset but a potential weapon."

Linsley's eyes snapped to Wyrn, his expression hardening. "A weapon? He's a person, not a tool."

Wyrn's gaze was unyielding. "This isn't the time for sentimentality, Lieutenant General. If we lose Ted, we lose our edge."

Linsley clenched his fists, frustration mounting. His voice dropped, edged with cold restraint. "Your edge cost him his freedom. That's not something you can justify."

The room grew tense, but Wyrn didn't back down. "Focus on the mission, Sinclair. We can't afford your personal morality getting in the way of what's necessary."

Linsley didn't reply immediately. His focus shifted back to the screen, where Lucy continued her relentless assault, inching closer to the lab.

The sight of her relentless charge, combined with the knowledge of Ted's torment, gnawed at him. His mind raced, his thoughts a whirlwind of anger, frustration, and resolve.

Wyrn's words echoed in his ears, cold and pragmatic, further fueling the fire within him. Slowly, deliberately, Linsley raised his head, his jaw tightening as he met Wyrn's glare with cold defiance. Explore more stories with empire

The room grew heavy with tension as his decision solidified. The image of Lucy tearing through the Dominion's forces and the thought of Ted being reduced to nothing more than an experiment left him with no doubt about what he needed to do.

In the silence, Linsley raised his hand, flipping Wyrn the middle finger.

"Oh, I say fuck you to that and go fuck yourself!" Linsley's voice thundered through the room, venom dripping from every word.

Gasps erupted from the gathered officers, their shock evident

Wyrn's face darkened with fury, his flux surging instinctively as the aura of his Level 9.7 power and his gift began to manifest, the air around him distorting under the sheer pressure. But before he could act, Linsley's SSS-rank Real Fantasy gift flared to life.

The air shimmered as countless guns materialized around him, each glowing faintly with flux energy. In a split second, he unleashed their paralyzing rounds.

Golden streaks of energy shot through the room, striking every officer present with unerring precision. One by one, they crumpled to the floor, their bodies immobilized by the effects of the flux-charged rounds.

Fleet General Wyrn was no exception—he staggered, a growl of frustration escaping his lips before he collapsed.

Linsley stood amidst the chaos, his expression cold and unyielding as the faint hum of his conjured arsenal faded.

Around him, the once-commanding officers were reduced to helpless, paralyzed spectators.

Aurielle's laughter broke the silence, light and carefree.

She stepped out of her invisibility with an amused grin, clapping slowly. "Bravo, Lieutenant General—or should I say rebel commander? Finally, some excitement around here."

Linsley ignored her, his eyes sweeping over the incapacitated officers.

His voice was calm but laced with steel as he spoke. "You went too far. You crossed the line when you used Ted as a test subject, and you expect me to just stand by and watch? Fuck no."

Wyrn, struggling against the paralysis, managed to choke out, "You're… making a mistake, Sinclair…"

Linsley stepped closer to the downed Fleet General, towering over him. "The only mistake I made was playing along with your twisted games for this long. The Astral Dominion was just a tool for me, Wyrn—a means to an end. And now? It's outlived its usefulness."

Aurielle smirked, leaning casually against the table. "Well, this is a side of you I didn't expect, Linsley. Decided to stop playing the obedient soldier, huh?"

Linsley's eyes flicked toward Aurielle, his gaze sharp as steel.

Without a word, he raised his hand, and the familiar shimmer of flux filled the room. The air crackled with energy as his SSS-rank Real Fantasy gift activated, its presence overwhelming.

Around him, countless artifacts materialized in an instant, hovering ominously in the air. Each one gleamed with an unnatural light, their designs intricate and otherworldly.

The military officials and Wyrn barely had time to react. Their instincts screamed danger, but their bodies were frozen in place, bound by the sudden surge of oppressive energy.

Each artifact imposed its own rule, compounding the effects until their resistance was rendered futile.

One artifact, shaped like a navy-blue armband, floated ominously before the group. Its surface pulsed with faint light as it imposed a rule: Those wearing navy-blue military uniforms, aside from the wielder, shall lose control of their bodies.

Immediately, the officers stiffened, their movements ceasing as the artifact's rule took effect.

The tension in the room reached a boiling point as another artifact—a golden shackle—appeared, imposing its own restriction: Those unable to move shall also lose their ability to speak if their intentions are hostile toward the wielder.

The effect was instantaneous. Wyrn's mouth opened as if to shout, but no sound escaped. His frustration was palpable as he struggled against the invisible bonds, his rage only growing.

Linsley, unflinching, raised his hand, summoning another creation. This time, it wasn't an artifact but a purple-colored parchment. The Soul Contract which was created by Linsley using his Soul Contract (Purple) talent.

The parchment glowed faintly as it unfurled in the air, its terms etched in radiant violet ink. A quill materialized beside it, hovering expectantly.

The contract's conditions were absolute: Signatories surrender their freedom and lives to the wielder, bound by the soul to obey his every command.

Aurielle, still leaning casually against the table, watched with undisguised amusement.

"Oh, I see now," she drawled, her tone dripping with mock approval. "So, this is your plan? Not content with just paralyzing them—you're going to enslave them, aren't you? How delightfully devious, Lieutenant General."

He didn't reply, his focus entirely on the restrained officers.

Another artifact appeared—a sleek, ebony pen glowing faintly as it hovered in the air. Alongside it materialized a jade-green scroll with a soft, otherworldly luminescence.

This artifact imposed a clear and targeted rule: If a Soul Contract is present and an individual cannot move, their hands will automatically sign the contract.

The pen floated toward Fleet General Wyrn first. His trembling hand rose against his will, guided by the artifact's rule.

The pen glided across the glowing parchment, signing his name in bold violet ink. His glare burned with impotent rage as the artifact compelled his compliance.