Like a parent recalling their playing child that voice continues.

"Sophia, my dearest daughter, I wanna give you some advice before you go. Cause you REALLY are a mess beyond saving sometimes. So listen carefully alright?"

"Y-yeah… s-sure?"

There's a very long sigh, and Sophia could feel this vast consciousness force itself to reorient and take a deep breath. "Firstly: you gotta seriously get your ass in gear for learning about the Dominion Court. You gotta stop winging it Imperial style; I know like the Fifth Sophia in your family may have been REALLY good at winging whatever the Etheryan Coasters threw at her, but out here you're just leaving a trail of destruction. Seriously, even that HUSBAND of yours is just a lil' scared of what you've already done and what you're becoming. And he pretty much knows the premise of this rom-com already."

Sophia Elise has to defend herself somehow. "I-I mean… It's working out for me! Nobody's objected to anything I've done so far?"

"Secondly." The crackle of wet wood in a fire, the hiss of steam and sparks. "Right now Sophia, you're political enemy number one for A LOT of powerful people. That's NOT A GOOD THING. But that also means you're the friends of a lot of people against those people too. Remember you told that fetishized husband of yours how he's the board? Well it's time to play the board (NOT ON THAT WAY). You're the closest to him, but you're not him. So you gotta play the GAME. And not like some weirdo, but we're talking about PLAYING the game as a piece or even player. What sort of game will you be playing Sophia?"

"Uhhhhh… I dunno…"

"You have the capacity to be utterly EVIL here. You can order the killings, purges, and even force your way into circles that would otherwise deny you." The rumble of tectonic plates shakes the earth, destroying the mountain itself. "Or you can be a force of good; stand beside that soul of oceanic tides as he tries to hold this sinking vessel together in a vast storm of politics. My daughter, what shall you be?"

Sophia is utterly overwhelmed, even in this dream state she sputters out the utterly wrong response to this question. "I wanna be with the hot guy that I'm married to."

Silence for centuries, for eons.

"Ok." There's an edge of desperation to that feeling, as if trying to stop a dam from breaking with nothing but paper glue. "W-We'll just table that for now. Yeah… let's table that for now…"

And so they sit in this longing emptiness, awaiting for something to happen.

"S-oooo…" Sophia pushes a bit, the blood in her veins very, very distantly mixed with a once raving prophet descending from that mountain. Fingers tapping one another, sheepishly asking the question to this divine being. "Y-you got any tips for uh… a h a… you know… making someone fall in love with ya…? L-like anything about him that I could uh… ah… cheat a bit? L-like can you t-tell me what his favorite pos…"

It immediately answers her. "No. I can't."

"B-but you just said that you got a human boy to rearrang…"

"Yeah, cause that's the theology YOU know. I'm literally a projection of your mental consciousness trying to unravel the deepest political pit you've ever fallen into. I don't know anything beyond what YOU'VE got stored in that miswired noggin so don't even try it."

If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

Wow, yeah. We're actually cooked. Time to die then.

"S-so…?"

"Just…" It's the tsunami washing back the tide, leaving nothing but destruction behind it. "Just… ok look the Dominion is always about twenty weeks away from a massive Civil War. Everything that you do here either makes that timer get closer or further away. Two months, you got a head start right now. Play the game, position yourself as either that Ensolian Belt Savior that has those very bad connotations (those northern states will LOVE that), position yourself as that Imperialist Monster here to destroy everything this place ever stood for (those southerners will SPRING at that opportunity), or even better position yourself as the harbinger of tyranny just like Zai's father (which, you probably CAN'T do anymore given your prior incompetence at court). But whatever you do, you NEED to play the game."

"B-but…"

"No butts. What you need right now is a plan of action. For my name's sake, if you wake up this morning and you're tossed in a meeting you'll need to know what side you're going to take. There's not gonna be gray, if you play the gray you're gonna end up screwing it up harder than you could ever imagine."

Sophia's mind spins, perhaps a little too literally as she tries to stay awake.

There's a panic to this tone, like a rooster's cry at the break of the first risen sun. "My dear daughter, you're running out of time. Literally and figuratively. You need to buckle down and get your Consciousness Committee audited and back in order."

Hey wait, what are you…

"... because if a romantic rival comes in right now to steal Zai for his political power you're on thin, THIN ice. And they WILL come for him, she'll see herself as some oh so gracious noble savior to take him from your clutches because as far as the court knows: you're the biggest evil to ever walk this place."

"B-but I'm… " Sophia tries to blink, feeling as her body begins to sag even deeper in this strange, non-sequitur dream sequence. "I- I'm not evil... I'm t-tired… I want my donuts…"

"I know, it's tough." There's a small hint of recognition there, of this Goddess' own struggles in eons before. "But if you really want to be happy here, then you gotta understand—you need to own up to yourself. If you wanna rot, you gotta rot the hardest you've ever rotted. If you want something, you need to work your flat ass off to get it."

She's starting to slip, barely able to keep her eyes open.

There's voices coming together. A chorus of memories, of every single tutor and maid in her life. It's the commanding tone of Naomi and Natan, those damned twins always trying their best to pull her out of her room to either go out for exercise or work respectively. It's the gentle, nurturing, yet also sly edge of Beatrice waxing stories of romantic men and politics, the rumor mill of the Imperium keeping this Fourth Princess annoyed to a point of anguish. The chaos, the unfiltered chaos of Alice, that young sister barking at the mess for no more reason than a sounding board for the most brain-rotting factoids and random fun.

Dad, Arden; his hands carrying her upon his back. It's the Empress Annia herself, soft and cold, that mother telling her daughter the death, the end; forcing her hand to this savage marriage of politics.

It's Zai Tianci, it's his oceanic soul in its longing gaze that he brings to her.

It's the truth.

It's the warning.

"You were meant to be small, to be happy for where you were." It echoes forever into the endless abyss, drowning this insignificant girl in this galactic arm of consciousness. "Sophia Elise, you need to listen to me. This, I must warn you, I COMMAND YOU. For if you taste this fruit, you spell your own doom."

She's approaching darkness, the absolute edge of her mindscape.

Never read BL.

What?

Under no circumstances, fall to the awesome power of Yaoi.

"W-what's Yaoi?"

And Sophia Elise the Eighth shoots awake.

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