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I woke up inside my friend's video game

Amid a joyous Christmas celebration, friends Jayson and Nikolai along with their workmates, find themselves in the middle of a storm. Jayson woke up inside his friend's video game, which he soon found out was with him in a cell next to his. They were rescued by Malik, and joined the Imperial Legion, reuniting them with familiar faces, their co-workers and boss: Francis, Nica, and Oscar. Together, they find out that they shared the same last memory, and discover they've been transported to Skyrim in different times. Under the guidance of Oscar and Francis, Jayson and Nikolai venture on exhilarating adventures led by Malik. The Civil War looms, testing Malik's loyalty when Olly, a friend of Malik, and a Dragonborn, enters the scene. A tragic confrontation ensues, resulting in Malik and Oscar's demise and Olly's sudden departure after succeeding in eliminating General Tullius. In the cold landscape of Winterhold. Porcia sends Glenn, Maricar, and Erica on a quest to Pyeath Shadowthorn, unveiling Olly's emotional turmoil. Meanwhile, the mischievous Sheogorath weaves chaos for his amusement. A new vampire lord emerges, thanks to Sheogorath. Sheogorath unites Miraak and the vampire lord. The group of Jayson, Pyeath, and Olly himself embarks on a quest to unravel the truth, guided by the Elder Scroll of Ethereal Harmony. At the iconic 7,000 steps, tensions escalate between Olly and the groups of Pyeath and Jayson. Sheogorath soon reveals his orchestrations, warning of an imminent uprising by Miraak and the new Vampire Lord. In response, the "Frost Fall Alliance" is born, uniting the group against the looming war in Skyrim. They face challenges, mysteries, and internal conflicts, striving to maintain harmony amidst the chaos.

BlueEnigmaaa · Fantaisie
Pas assez d’évaluations
32 Chs

x The Many Faces of Love

I sit at the tavern in Riften, tapping my fingers on the table, watching the same faces I've seen a hundred times before. The mead flows, the laughter is forced, and the tales are stale. The predictability bores me, every day the same rhythm, the same dance. My life as an engineer in the real world had its routines, but there was a spark to it. Since coming to this strange world, I've been chasing that thrill, that uncertainty.

Then, I hear it: whispers of a new player in town. Someone who doesn't fit the usual mold—Pyeath Shadowthorn. He's not just another scoundrel from the Guild. They say he's enigmatic, dangerous, a man who hides in shadows but leaves an unforgettable mark on anyone who crosses his path. A thief, sure, but something more. The rumors hint at something darker, something fractured.

I've never been one to back down from curiosity, and I knew I had to meet him. Getting to Pyeath was no easy feat. His comings and goings were like ghosts in the mist, and he didn't entertain just anyone. But I wasn't just anyone.

After some well-placed inquiries and a few favors cashed in, I find myself in the Ragged Flagon. The dim light flickers off the damp walls, the chatter low and secretive, and in the back corner, I spot him. Pyeath. He's sitting alone, cloaked in shadows, his hood pulled low over his face. Even from here, there's something about him that draws me in—an aura of unpredictability that makes my pulse quicken.

I stride over, confidence in my step, though my mind races. I sit across from him, locking eyes, and the world outside our table fades into a blur.

"So, you're the infamous Pyeath," I say, the corner of my lips curling. "They say you're the best, but I had to see for myself."

He looks up slowly, and for a moment, I catch his eyes—a sharp, calculating gaze that shifts almost imperceptibly as if he's sizing me up. His voice, low and smooth, carries a hint of amusement. "And you would be?"

"Kylie," I reply. "New to Riften, but not new to trouble."

A smirk tugs at his lips. "Trouble, huh? You sure you know what you're asking for?"

It's subtle, but I notice it. His demeanor shifts—his gaze softens, his posture relaxes, almost as if I'm talking to someone else entirely. It's unnerving but fascinating.

"Interesting," I mutter, more to myself. "You don't seem like most thieves I've met."

He leans in, eyes narrowing as if he's caught wind of my curiosity. "You're perceptive. I'll give you that."

I tilt my head, intrigued. "There's more to you, isn't there? You're not just one man, are you?"

Pyeath stiffens, a flash of something unreadable crosses his face, and for a split second, the air between us crackles with tension. Then, he leans back, exhaling slowly.

"You're not wrong," he admits, his voice dropping. "But it's not something I share lightly. What you see… isn't always what you get."

I blink, my heart racing at the cryptic revelation. "Go on."

Pyeath's eyes darken, his voice shifting as if a different personality has taken control. "I'm… several people. Different sides, different needs. Sometimes, it's hard to tell where one ends and another begins."

My pulse quickens, but it's not fear I feel—it's excitement. His fractured nature, the complexity of it, only makes him more compelling. "That sounds… exhilarating."

He studies me, wary, expecting revulsion. But there's none. "It doesn't scare you?" he asks, his tone layered with disbelief.

I lean forward, my hand brushing against his. "No. In fact, it makes you more interesting."

The intensity in his gaze deepens, and I know I've touched something real within him. "You're not like anyone else," he murmurs. "You should be running, but instead, you're drawn in."

I laugh softly, pulling back just enough to tease the moment. "Maybe I like the danger. Or maybe I just enjoy a good challenge."

His mood shifts again, this time lighter, playful. "Careful, Kylie. You might get more than you bargained for."

What followed was more than I could have ever imagined. Pyeath's personalities were a whirlwind—some gentle, some ferocious, others cold and calculating—but each one fascinated me in a way no one ever had. It was as though I had multiple lovers in one body, each experience unique, each touch different.

But it wasn't without its costs. Over time, I saw how the constant shifts weighed on him. Some days, he'd disappear into one of his personalities for hours, leaving me wondering which version of him would return. It began to tear at the fabric of what we had, and I could see the toll it took on him.

One night, after an especially tumultuous day, I found him in our room, his hands buried in his hair, his body tense. I approached quietly, sitting beside him.

"This can't go on," he said, his voice strained. "I'm losing control."

I placed a hand on his shoulder, gently turning him toward me. "You don't have to do this alone, Pyeath. I can help."

He shook his head, frustration bleeding through his words. "How? You can't stop what's happening inside me."

"No," I said softly, "but I can be here. I can help you find balance."

He looked at me, eyes clouded with doubt and pain. "Why do you stay? Why do you care?"

"Because I see you—all of you—and I don't want to lose any part of that."

It wasn't easy, but slowly, we began to piece together a method, a rhythm that helped him find some semblance of control. I helped him focus on the personalities that brought stability, while the others—those more chaotic and destructive—were kept in check.

Now, we run the Guild together. At least, that's what everyone thinks. On the surface, I'm the Guildmaster, the one who issues the orders and holds the power. But in truth, Pyeath is the one pulling the strings, his influence felt in every shadowed corner of Riften. It's the perfect ruse, and no one suspects a thing.

And as for Pyeath and me? We've found our balance. Our love isn't simple or conventional, but it's ours. In him, I found the thrill I craved, the unpredictability that keeps me on edge, and in me, he found someone who could see beyond the fractured pieces to the man inside.

"Are you ready for tonight?" I ask, turning to Pyeath as we prepare for the next job.

He smirks, that familiar glint in his eyes. "Always."

I smile, knowing that together, there's nothing we can't conquer—even the demons within him.