“Damn Golden Ape!”

Inside the half‑closed carriage, Aelina finished venting and started cursing a certain Elf. “Just a Golden Ape, and he thinks he gets to be mad at me? Molecular‑level armor, blades boosted by tech—every one of them centuries ahead of this primitive world’s swords and spears. When have I ever forgotten his cut when we split the loot? I was an idiot to expect any kind of moral standards from a monkey with that tiny brain.”

She was still swearing when a noise sounded outside. Her expression instantly went cold as ice. She glanced out the window and saw a male brown bear, drawn by the scent, that had fallen into a trap. Only its head stuck out of the hole. A steel clamp at the bottom had bitten into its leg. The bear slapped at the edge of the pit and howled.

Realizing it wasn’t a certain Golden Ape, Aelina got even angrier. A mere Golden Ape had actually made her tiny little sliver of hope go up in smoke. She grabbed the crossbow, then frowned at how thin the bolt was and tossed it aside. Picking up the Molecular Reconstructor, she stepped onto the carriage roof and built a towering Giant Crossbow.

The male brown bear’s two small black eyes stared at the terrifying giant weapon aimed right at it, and at the girl standing beside it, her whole body radiating a dreadful aura. The bear wailed in fear. It was scared out of its wits, clawing frantically at the dirt, desperate to get farther away from the furious Aelina.

“Die, filthy ape!”

The forearm‑thick bolt blew the bear’s head apart in one shot. Only then did Aelina’s anger slowly ebb. She looked at the brown bear whose head had been pierced through and silently recorded her own loss of control—for a certain Golden Ape. She stepped down the wooden stairs, walked back into the carriage, and casually restored the freshly built steps into the roof with a thought.

Aelina sat down on the leather cushion she’d just straightened, one long leg in knee‑high leather boots casually draped over the other. She was still fuming. “Temperature’s four degrees. That traitor of a Golden Ape is injured and didn’t bring food. There won’t be any sun for days. He won’t last long. Hungry, freezing, his wound still bleeding out. In the end he’ll collapse on the ground, curl up and freeze to death, and crows will peck out his eyes.”

Aelina lifted the Molecular Reconstructor and projected the death scene of Fro she’d simulated in her mind onto the carriage wall. The vivid image kept shifting, but the theme stayed the same: different ways Fro might die.

Starving, exhausted and freezing, he steps on a rock, twists his ankle, and collapses in a pile of dog shit. Crows fly down and carry off his eyes.

Shivering all over from the cold, he gets spotted by a gang of bandits. His frozen hands can’t even lift his sword. He runs while shouting Aelina’s name at the top of his lungs.

He runs into a rutting male brown bear and bleeds out from the rear.

Looking at the scenes she’d made up herself, Aelina brightened a little and switched which leg was on top. “If that tiny Golden Ape brain of his has even a spark of sense, he has to crawl back and beg me to take him in. Hmph. I’ll make that traitor knock his head on the floor a few times, loud and clear, before I forgive him.”

But the heavens refused to play along.

Outside the window, a golden sun rose over woods wrapped in a faint white mist. Frost on dead leaves and clinging to the grass slowly melted. Sunlight, once as precious as gold, was flung across the world like some spendthrift wastrel was throwing it away for free. Light spilled through the carriage window, brushing Aelina’s face with a soft halo—yet the smile on her lips slowly faded.

Aelina suddenly grabbed the Molecular Reconstructor and jabbed it at the wall painting of Fro’s death. Harsh blue light wiped the image away. She kicked the carriage door open and marched out, ignoring the tingling numbness climbing up her instep, heading straight for the four stumpy ponies huddled together in the cramped little stable. Hearing the Silverhaired Maiden’s clear footsteps, they shrank together in fear, their ears trembling.

“Up. Pull the carriage.”

The ponies scrambled to their feet in a panic and bolted for the carriage like they were running for their lives. Normally, this lazy, pampered bunch wouldn’t go near the carriage unless Fro yanked on the reins with all his strength.

Using the Molecular Reconstructor, she recovered the traps around the carriage and the haul inside them: one brown bear, three skinny wolves, and six weasels. All males, all lured by the scent on the wind, all dead for it.

Once everything was ready, Aelina drove the carriage away with the sun at her back. The morning breeze lifted her silver hair as she lounged lazily against the seatback. She’d talked herself through it. Since a certain morally bankrupt, base‑natured ape refused to honor the contract, why should a high‑tech construct like her care about him? Even without his introductions, with her overwhelming processing power and knowledge, getting into Elf society would be child’s play. She didn’t need the Golden Ape’s protection on the road either. With the Molecular Reconstructor in hand, killing a few brainless “primitive apes” would be no trouble at all.

The carriage rolled over a slope and onto a dirt road. The land around them was flat and open. Off in the distance she could just make out two or three figures in an abandoned wheat field. The road itself was utterly quiet, with not a soul in sight.

Aelina hugged herself, a hollow loneliness fluttering in her chest. She really wasn’t suited to traveling alone in a strange place. Back during interstellar trips, even in the core star zones, as long as a flight path was unfamiliar and sparsely populated, she would always drag along her big Golden Fur—an oversized golden retriever that would happily pant “hah‑hah‑hah” with its tongue out and soak your face in drool at any time. She was simply afraid of that empty, stranger’s void, of staring out into pitch‑black, unknown space. Her starship always felt like a cold metal trash can—and she’d had more than enough of hiding alone in trash cans to escape danger when she was little.

The sky stayed clear all day, the sun blazing. Aelina kept scanning her surroundings, but didn’t see even a pitiful human figure from dawn till dusk. Her fantasy of the Golden Ape crawling back to her in tears fell apart. So, in her memo that had swollen to 116M, she demoted Fro’s future “harem position” from gate guard to manure carrier—even though in her design, the harem palace built atop a mountain in a high‑tech era had a fully automated waste‑processing system. But for one particularly “special” Golden Ape, sacrificing a bit of efficiency wasn’t out of the question.

Reason for demotion: obviously, a certain Golden Ape isn’t even as good as a Golden Fur. No matter how far she tossed her dog, it would find its way back and teleport home in under two hours. A certain Golden‑Furred something had been gone for sixteen hours and still hadn’t crawled back.

At dusk, after she added another entry to the record of that Golden Ape’s crimes by the campfire, Aelina climbed into the carriage. She silently made up her mind: once she ruled this other world, she would stuff every single female member of his family into her harem as the lowest‑rank maids.

The whole day had been unbearably dull. No one to talk to. Even back in human society, as a textbook shut‑in who tried to stay home almost all year, she had never gone a full day without interacting with anyone. She’d visit the Cloud Library online to discuss her field, flame the laws that restricted citizens’ right to own maids in anonymous chatrooms, check the likes on her own works every other second, and lurk in transformation fetish chat groups packed with weirdos…

So Aelina decided to enter sleep mode early. She stepped up the newly reconstructed stairs to the roof, gathered her skirt, and knelt there, half‑closing her starry eyes that glowed faintly with golden light. Before her, an interface full of red bug warnings covered her vision. A prompt popped up:

System errors too many. Confirm entering sleep mode?

Confirm.

Choose dream mode?

Role‑play — Monarch.

Element selection?

Harem. Conqueror.

Antagonist selection?

Golden Ape.

Constructing dream—encountered 304 errors. Dream realism may be affected. Continue?

Continue.

Aelina entered sleep mode.

The dream was beautiful. She dreamed she’d only implemented a tiny bit of “primitive” tech, barely around ancient twenty‑first‑century level, and it scared the mature, elegant Elven Queen into trembling like flower branches in a storm. A bunch of Elves clung to their ridiculous magic. One white‑bearded Archmage, who’d spent ten thousand years studying spells, refused to accept it. He summoned a golem forged of pure adamantine. Aelina snapped her fingers. An ancient mechanical war chariot roared through the wall. One shell, and the adamantine shattered to dust. Standing on the chariot’s roof, she planted her fists on her hips and laughed loudly at the speechless, whisker‑twitching Archmage.

One gorgeous factory after another rose from the ground. Farmers threw down their hoes and watched in delight as fully automated machines tilled the fields, where gene‑edited crops grew huge and sweet. Planes in the sky dropped bundles of warm clothing and lowered silver, multi‑armed giant machines. Beams of light shot out, reconstructing stone and wood into wide, solid houses. Tanks rolled over statues that symbolized ancient tradition. Airborne battleships broadcast a new creed: everyone is equal—though Aelina was more equal. Those who didn’t accept that weren’t people.

Hunger and cold vanished. Everyone was overjoyed from the heart and grateful to Comrade Aelina, who had brought them happiness. So they offered up beautiful people to satisfy their great savior’s tiny little desires.

In front of her harem’s gate, a pile of her former opponents knelt with their hands tied behind their backs, dunce caps on their heads, confessing their crimes. At the front was the worst traitor of all, his hat labeled “I am the Golden Ape.” He sobbed, snot and tears running together, repenting his sins. His final sentence was the ultimate penalty—redeem himself by carrying manure. He was too grateful to even speak.

Seeing all this, Aelina threw her head back and laughed, hands on her waist.

“Ha ha ha! Golden Ape, regret it yet?” she laughed. “Your little sister’s amazing, you know that?”

“Being allowed to serve Savior‑sama is the greatest honor a criminal brother like me could ever have.”

“Ah‑ha‑ha‑ha‑ha.” Aelina kicked him. “Go haul manure.”

“What an honor, Savior‑sama touched me.” Fro rolled around on the ground like a dog, wrists bent, tongue out, completely out of character.

Aelina sighed. It had to be all those system errors. The dream simulation module had just slapped the movements of her big Golden Fur dog straight onto Fro.

“This dream is way too over the top, keeps breaking immersion, but who cares as long as it feels good. I think Head Maid Silver Dragon said there’s an Elf twin mother‑daughter foursome today, plus a two‑Succubus fox‑eared duo. Today’s going to be another blissful day.” Savior Aelina turned around, perfectly content, and failed to notice what had happened to her virtual harem.

The pale‑gold palace bathed in brilliant sunlight vanished.

Darkness replaced light. Damp air swallowed the warmth. In a cramped steel tunnel stood a terrifying little girl—Aelina’s nightmare.

The adorable girl looked about eight years old, her round, wet eyes big and charming. Ink‑black hair was braided into two pigtails. On her snow‑white arm, two bright silver letters stood out: AA. When she saw Aelina, she flashed a horrifying smile, baring smooth, pearly teeth that, in Aelina’s eyes, might as well have been a great white shark’s jaws.

“So this is where you were hiding, little X.” The nightmare girl smiled wider, the AA on her arm lighting up excitedly.

“AA! Y‑you… why are you here?”

Aelina trembled. Her legs gave out and she collapsed to the floor. Then she snapped back to herself. “Close the dream! Close it, now!”

A dialog box popped up. The “Close” button was a hopeless gray. Error log: Null pointer exception. Unable to terminate for now.

Oh god. What kind of bug is this? Why is my nightmare just fine?

“Everyone’s been looking for you for sooo long.”

“No! Please, AA, don’t call them. I’m begging you.”

“Savior” Aelina lay on the floor, pleading.

The nightmare girl named AA turned around, jumped, and shouted at the top of her lungs, “Girls! Little X is here! Hurry!”

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