Catgirl Isekai Gone Wrong

[JHMV]

Well, that's somewhat terrifying. I can only assume that the gods, or something impersonating them, ate the souls of everyone who accepted their deal. And it almost certainly wasn't just the people on the ship. It sounds like roughly 5% of people who heard the call refused it (everyone who rolled a nat 20), which means it's a post-apocalypse out there.

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Half of them refused, most of the rest died to sickness and giant monster... which is probably also true in the rest of the world.

A few years ago with COVID, we saw how devastating a sickness that puts a fraction of the population down and has a 1,6% mortality rate can be. Something that straight up kills half the population is going to destroy any and all society.

 

[Doomsought]

Half of them refused, most of the rest died to sickness and giant monster... which is probably also true in the rest of the world.

A few years ago with COVID, we saw how devastating a sickness that puts a fraction of the population down and has a 1,6% mortality rate can be. Something that straight up kills half the population is going to destroy any and all society.

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The panic was worse than the disease. The Spanish Flu was far worse as plagues go, and people pushed through to keep WWI running despite it. The knowledge that the gods are gone would have done far more damage than the deaths.

 

[JHMV]

The panic was worse than the disease. The Spanish Flu was far worse as plagues go, and people pushed through to keep WWI running despite it. The knowledge that the gods are gone would have done far more damage than the deaths.

Click to shrink...

More damage than half of everyone dying? If half the population dies, that's half of every job you need to keep society going, dead. And now you have one corpse for every person. How are you burying everyone? So you have people rotting in the streets while you find out which vital roles in society have no one alive that knows how to do it.

We don't know how their society is like, but if they have battleships, they probably have an industrial economy. That comes hand in hand trading. Half of everyone dying on the ship killed the rest of the ship, and that definitely happened in all the other ships. So sea shipping is gone, even if the gods were still around, even if there was no panick at all. That's more than enough for a generalized economic colapse, famine, all that good stuff.
Panic is going to make any crisis worse, but there's no worse than "There's so many people dead that we don't have a society anymore".

 

[HiddenMaster]

More damage than half of everyone dying? If half the population dies, that's half of every job you need to keep society going, dead. And now you have one corpse for every person. How are you burying everyone? So you have people rotting in the streets while you find out which vital roles in society have no one alive that knows how to do it.

We don't know how their society is like, but if they have battleships, they probably have an industrial economy. That comes hand in hand trading. Half of everyone dying on the ship killed the rest of the ship, and that definitely happened in all the other ships. So sea shipping is gone, even if the gods were still around, even if there was no panick at all. That's more than enough for a generalized economic colapse, famine, all that good stuff.
Panic is going to make any crisis worse, but there's no worse than "There's so many people dead that we don't have a society anymore".

Click to shrink...

Don't forget the gods having polite and cordial disagreements with each other.

 

[The Radiance's Follower]

Lot of lore. I don't know what they expected to do seeing as their own gods we're losing that fight.

But maybe not totally as the world is still standing.

Heck maybe they are not dead at all, just having to guard the monster with all their might or they die.

Still. This is quite the pickle all around. Hope they can reach safe ground.

Wth will the people even think after finding their long lost captain if they are alive that is.

 

[vladspellbinder]

I didn't expect the reason for "no one to answer" to be something somewhat known. Real interested to know just what was going on there but unless golden pawprint thing wants to answer some questions we'll probably never really know what happened.

And I'm guessing that the rice is something more important than just being a food staple. Probably some sort of magic rice that has a critical nutrient in it they can't get from some other food.

Thanks for the chapter.

 

[HiddenMaster]

I didn't expect the reason for "no one to answer" to be something somewhat known. Real interested to know just what was going on there but unless golden pawprint thing wants to answer some questions we'll probably never really know what happened.

And I'm guessing that the rice is something more important than just being a food staple. Probably some sort of magic rice that has a critical nutrient in it they can't get from some other food.

Thanks for the chapter.

Click to shrink...

It's more that the island forage is terrible and stores are running pretty low. That said, the blue rice is somewhat similar to golden rice in that it was engineered to have extra nutrients compared to its more mundane counterpart, so you're not wrong, either.

 

[HiddenMaster]

Chapter 14: Celia

Mom placed another rock in the pile we'd made in the field facing the island's interior behind the citadel. With a slight huff, she planted a crude stake with a bit of white cloth tied to one end amidst the rock cluster. The rocky soil resisted, but Mom was strong. That, and she had a hammer.

Mom stepped back with a sigh to survey her work.

Already, the white cloth had begun to drift slightly with the Fall breeze. At her gesture, I placed the last rock at the stake's base. The final addition gave a slight contrast for its notable blue tint compared to the gray shale that formed the rest of the pile.

"It's not ideal. Devoted talismans blessed by a priest would be better, but it's what we have." Mom rose, dusting her claws off. I stepped a bit closer, still watching the flag while I clutched my own basket. "Alright, Gwen, repeat after me."

She bowed her head. "Rest well, unknown friend. May you find peace as you venture through the Dark Paths once more." Her words were difficult to follow, far more grammatically complex than I was used to. My ears perked fully up as I strained to listen and drink in the new grammar. I was able to get their meaning for the most part, but I think I missed some of the modifiers she used. It seemed like just in my old life, formal language could get complicated, if not even more so, kinda like that eastern language all those animated shows were in. German? I think it was German.

Following Mom's example, I bowed my head and recited her word for word with only a mild butchery of the finer grammar used. We held a moment of silence as we stood around before slowly leaving the final resting point. I fell in close to Mom as we walked, our feet crunching in the gravel rich soil along the way.

"When people die, Kitten, they enter the Dark Paths," Mom said, stroking my hair from the tip of my head to my ears. Under other circumstances, I might have purred, but it wasn't right for what we were doing, so I simply took comfort in her touch.

"You don't need to know the specifics just yet but think of them as a place beneath the realm, kind of like a…a reverse mirror of our world, a labyrinth of unseen places and people's memories. Before you ask, no, you can't dig there," Mom said with a wry little smile before her tone became serious once more. "Everyone enters the Dark Paths, and everyone will one day leave the Dark Paths. Even you and I were there, once upon a time," Mom said with an odd, bitter little smile.

"I was?" I asked as my thoughts raced. Was this some form of reincarnation? Was it real, or just her beliefs? Life in the old world suggested a lot, and I really do mean a lot, of potential beliefs, but the mere fact that I remembered an old life suggested the possibilities were out there. Plus, I knew beings like Mr. Muscles existed given I was here.

Regardless, I couldn't know; not right now at least.

"I said everyone, didn't I?" Mom said with a touch of snark to her words. "One day, hopefully when you're much, much older and after a full life, you will go there too and make your way out again to be reborn once more. Death doesn't have to be a bad thing, Kitten. Sometimes, it's just a chance for new beginnings."

Mom trailed off, looking back at the grave. "Sometimes, though, people can get confused, lost even, maybe even leave the Dark Paths before they're ready. That's why everyone deserves a proper burial, so that they can always have a beacon to get their bearings." Mom stared off into the distance with a familiar look I knew. She was seeing things I'd never known, people I couldn't know, but had been her whole world. Her gaze finally came back to me as she focused on our environment.

I hummed and followed her gaze. "So many," I said, softly.

The grave marker we'd made was only the latest of many. Graves surrounded us in rough rows, filling this section of the old fort. Every grave was slightly different and built by painstaking hand. Each had a bit of cloth tied onto the marker stake. Most had green cloth, a few had blue. Some were significantly older than the others and the cloth no longer blew in the wind but hung stiffly to their stakes, the elements having taken their toll.

I knew Mom had dug most one of them despite how horrible the soil was. I'd only seen them long after burial. I'd tried digging at one point in another part of the island and exhausted myself in short order because it was so rocky.

Yet, Mom had dug without complaint with a collapsible shovel.

I gripped Mom's hand tightly as we stood, observing the graves.

Once, when I was supposed to be napping, I counted the graves. Fortunately, basic math skills hadn't forsaken me, and I'd come to 98. In some sense, the number seemed mundane. In others, it felt unreal, but I knew they were here and close enough to touch.

99 graves were placed here long, long after the fort had been built and abandoned. I knew none of them. Today, Mom had added one more to that number.

Mom rarely talked about the graves, or what had happened to cause them, yet I knew it had to affect her. I wasn't just a sheltered little girl who would look at these without realizing something was wrong. Each and every single one of these graves represented someone Mom must have known. Yet, there was nothing I could do to help.

The pain Mom faced was deep inside her where I couldn't reach.

Mom squeezed my shoulder. "Indeed," she said sadly. We stayed quiet for a minute before Mom shook herself and hefted her basket. "Come, we have one more to see."

It didn't take long. At the very end of the rows laid one more grave, similar to all the others, except for the extra care given to it. The stake held a yellow ribbon like cloth tied to it. It was rough, like all the others, but care had been given to make it thinner and longer. Stylish, even, like something a child might wear in their hair. Piled in a bowl were dried purple wildflowers taken from the island's interior. It always surprised me to see them still here, but Mom had made the bowl deep to protect against the wind.

Mom smiled bitterly and reached into her basket to pull out two items: a small wreath of flowers, and an effigy made of twine bound twigs and a stick. Both looked so small in her hands. Despite being understandably rough, both were lovingly made.

"Hi, Celia. It's been a little while, hasn't it, baby-girl? We brought you a few things." Mom first gently laid the effigy down to lean against the stake in a recess between it and the rocks. Then, she slid the wreath down over the stake.

"I know your journey's a long way from its end, but hopefully you can play with these along the way, you know? Least I can do for you," Mom said. Her voice didn't break but sounded like she wanted to. Bitterness, sadness, and more infused her tone.

I tried to think of something to say. I failed. Instead, I stared as the breeze slightly shook the wreath's purple flowers. It wouldn't last long out in the elements, but I think Mom knew that.

When I first woke up here and realized I'd been reincarnated, I'd assumed I'd been Mom's only child. After all, I'd had no other reason to think there were others. It got a bit weird when Mom was the only person I ever saw in the nursery, but that could be a culture thing. "Only the mother may see her child in its first year" or something along those lines, I had thought. I had nothing to base that thought on, but it sounded reasonable at the time.

Then I was brought outside to see the sun and feel grass for the first time and immediately saw the graves.

I liked to think I wasn't stupid. Impulsive, perhaps, prone to sticking my foot not so much as in my mouth but as jamming it down my throat, but I could put two and two together.

Mom was the last, a remnant. I'd had a sister, once upon a time. I'd survived. Celia hadn't. My sister, my very own twin in this world, hadn't made it even a month according to Mom.

"My little miracle," she sometimes called me. I'd been sick too, apparently, in those first days after being born. I'd survived. Celia didn't.

I felt as if unraveling that feeling born from this realization would take a lifetime. Yet, I think the worst part was that I didn't feel grief like Mom did.

I wanted to. God, gods, Mr. Muscles, whatever higher being was out there, I wanted to. I wanted to be in tune with Mom, to feel as she did.

I knew Mom cried at night when she thought I was asleep. I knew she got faraway looks when we passed the markers or sometimes lost herself looking out over the horizon in quiet moments. Yet, even with my own sister's grave, I struggled to feel as she did.

Mom could recite names for each of the graves. Sometimes, she'd step in front of a grave to adjust a marker and softly say a name, "Iskan, Conor, Aoife," and so many more. She'd known everyone, an entire crew.

She'd known so many people, or at least, enough to make even my previous life's social circles feel pitifully small. Yet, I just didn't. The only person I knew in this world was my Mom and, only just recently, Sandy, although it would be a stretch to say I knew her. Even my sister was an abstract, not terribly different from saying "I have in the past century had at least one dead ancestor".

Ever since I could walk, Mom would at times take me out here to this part of the fort. Mom liked coming out here, even if she didn't talk much about the others. Sometimes, we would sit near Celia's grave, and she would talk about her old hometown, the crystal lake with fish as wide as an arm span, the glittering woods, and endless misty rains.

I'd come to realize being out here wasn't for me. I could see the loss, but it was a phantom feeling, almost like realizing I had a chance to make a friend but the chance is gone now. Sad, but my heart shrugged it off without difficulty like a thin shroud. Instead, I hurt for Mom and hated how I couldn't do anything to make her feel better.

I couldn't feel for everyone, not in a true sense, at least. Yet, my mom did, and that's why I made the effort. "Here you go, Celia. I hope you like it," I said, quietly.

I fumbled my offering out of my basket. It was a necklace. Rough twine threaded through vibrant clam shells on a string. Most clam shells weren't very pretty, but some, once in a while, were almost pearlescent. This necklace represented a year of gathering as I only found a few pretty shells every now and then buried deep in the sand.

I put the necklace at the base of the grave's stake with a small tinkle of rainbow shells.

Mom's breath hitched. I stood back up but otherwise remained morosely tranquil. I found myself not so much held as clutched to her side with a desperate strength. I did nothing but lean into her hold as she held me to her side and silently shook in the fading twilight.

​

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If you've paid to read this anywhere outside of Patreon, SubscribeStar, or Ko-Fi, then you've been scammed and someone is ripping you off as it is stolen.

If you're reading this on any other site than RoyalRoad, SufficientVelocity,Spacebattles, QuestionableQuesting, MZNovel, Wattpad, or Scribblehub or it's by anyone other than HiddenMaster, it's been plagiarized and stolen.

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Chapter Fourteen: Author's Note

Man, this one took a while. Entire time I was writing all of these more emotionally tense and melancholy scenes like the ending to LOTR: Return of the King was playing on loop rent free in my head and not in a good way.

From fairly early on in Catgirl Isekai, I'd intended Gwen and Eliza to be survivors of a shipwreck, and happenstance to have decided their survival more than anything else. Gwen could just as easily have taken her sister's place, and that sort of thing just gets to me.

Not only the potential for the end to one's life so unexpectedly, but the idea of having someone so close, someone who by all rights should have been one of the pinnacle figures in your life, but losing them before you'd ever met them…

It's like knowing with near certainty when joining up with a group that an old member, someone who died before you ever got to meet with them, could've been a best friend.

Well, the premise both intrigues and saddens me, and likely made it onto the page.


Also I had art commissioned of this chapter! One of my favorite pieces I've ever commissioned, frankly, and by the wonderful YoruAlice.

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Obligatory author plug because I'd love to write more but society sadly says I need monies to keep living (and support my growing addiction to commissioning catgirl art)

Support me on Patreon, Ko Fi, or Subscribe Star. Check them advance chapters uploaded every weekend, too. Or check out my website for links to my other author accounts, contact, socials, etc. Anything is appreciated :3

Also I have a discord now! Check it out. I would love to chat with fans. :3

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[The Radiance's Follower]

That picture is so cute.

You know. I hate when the re-incarnated person tells their entourage about them being re-incarnated. But this is the first time where I would actually be in favor since there is an in-story reason. I would donate for the art alone if only I wasn't broke

 

[HiddenMaster]

That picture is so cute.

You know. I hate when the re-incarnated person tells their entourage about them being re-incarnated. But this is the first time where I would actually be in favor since there is an in-story reason. I would donate for the art alone if only I wasn't broke

Click to shrink...

Hey, glad you like the art, and entirely fair. I wish I had enough money to commission way more art, frankly, as there is so much that could be captured in visuals, but alas.

And it's appreciated that you are following along. Donations are welcome, but so are comments. I feed off them derive insightful joy and feedback on my critical works from them.

 

[Jon0278955]

This is a great story I keep a tab for this one lol

 

[dj84722]

Why do they have squiggly whiskers, is there a reason for that?
It reminds me of some infected enemy in a game, like there is something showing in their veins

 

[HiddenMaster]

Why do they have squiggly whiskers, is there a reason for that?
It reminds me of some infected enemy in a game, like there is something showing in their veins

Click to shrink...

It's relating to their specific tribe, or race in this instance, and is just a phenotypic trait. Some cat folk have full on whiskers and more fur, some less. Eliza's people, the Illanans, typically were on the lower side of such things.

 

[vladspellbinder]

That shell necklace made me teary eyed a little, which was unexpected. I guess it hit just right.

Looking forward to how things play out with the escape attempt, I hope all three of them make it without too much pain along the way.

Thanks for the chapter.

 

[HiddenMaster]

Chapter 15: Grammar Lessons and Anxiety oh My

Life continued after we tended the graves.

It wasn't that we forgot. Mom certainly didn't with how often she stopped to stare off into space. A simple glance outside often showed the graves and Celia's in particular. Sadness and a feeling of loss like I'd stepped before a gaping hole lingered, but, well, we still had things to do. We needed to eat and sleep eventually, so we did, and fell back into routine.

We ate, we slept, bathed, we checked and harvested from the garden, we played Mom, did repairs, and I had more lessons.

Sometimes there were basic lessons in math I probably knew too well for a kitten my age, other times there were more lessons in writing and grammar.

I stared at the tea green paper and chewed my bottom lip as I thought.

Today, Mom had me working on my letters. Letters here were loosely similar mechanically to the alphabet from my old life, but they had more quirks, particularly context sensitive moments that added extra meaning instead of just sounds. We hadn't quite touched on these yet, but if my old life's logic held true, then a sentence structure might flow similarly enough. "I think…" My hand moved through the letters, drawing the curves out just right to finish each syllable off. "Like this?" I showed Mom the paper.

Mom stopped her own project-tinkering with a big grayish box with a clockwork exterior-to look. Her expression was blank for a moment before abruptly smiling. "That's not quite right, kitten, but you're definitely on the right track. Here, let me show you."

As it turned out, I was not as clever as I thought I had been. In fact, it wasn't even entertainingly wrong like I'd accidentally declared myself "Princess Floppy of the Doodle Kingdom".

Instead, it was just plain old boring. I'd kept the structure and order of verbs from English and applied the same thing here and wrote something out that, in the English equivalent, would be "Are my I Gwen name?"

I will forever deny making growling noises. Perhaps I made some refined noises indicative of a disgruntled mood, but I did not growl.

Mom stretched with audible creaks. "You know, Kitten, I think I need to brush your hair."

"Just a minute, I've almost got this." I never took my eyes off the paper or my charcoal pencil as I tried to better understand sentence structure. It could not be that difficult. It simply couldn't.

Mom hummed. "No," she sang.

Before I knew it, I felt strong claws grab me. I shrieked as we flew across the room in a spin. Then, somehow, I was seated in her lap and she had a brush from somewhere in her soft, fuzzy paws. I had just a few seconds to protest before she went to work and my mind promptly melted in bliss as the brush's stiff bristles did their work.

By the time I regained any awareness that emerged from a state of syrupy happiness, we were sitting by the hearth, and I was cuddled up to Mom. The flames burned steadily, neither too hot nor too cold, giving the entire room a wonderfully cozy feeling.

This coziness, combined with being so close to Mom, feeling both her warmth and her scent, and my instincts were screaming I was in an ideal place for a catnap.

Cold, Mom was so cold, heartbeat so slow, the hearth fading, the wind howling louder and louder, nothing I could do, nothing I could do but sit and wait to…

I didn't quite jolt, but the memory did make eyes shoot open to confirm I was in Mom's lap, the hearth was merrily burning, and everything was fine. I sighed and leaned into Mom's touch as she stroked my hair. Fortunately, she didn't seem to notice my moment as she spoke up.

"Gwen, have you ever thought about things off this island? Places beyond our… home." She placed an odd emphasis on home, as if the word had caught her up for a second.

I wiggled to get a better look at her, and saw she wasn't looking at me, but rather into the gentle flames in the hearth. I tilted my head, ears perked up in interest.

"Back in my homeland, in Illiana, we had great, sweeping forests all around misty mountains on our islands. Trees so big you could have entire homes carved into them and they'd hardly notice. Mountain springs with water so pure it's unbelievable, sometimes water that's already as warm it's like you could take a bath it even when everything else was covered in ice and snow. Winding valleys so green and thick with trees you could wander them for a thousand years and not find every secret they held." As Mom spoke, melancholy seeped into her tone, turning beloved memories into something bitter I could see through her tone alone.

I patted Mom's arm and she smiled.

"But, all that is far away from here. Gwen, this island is so, so tiny, it's unbelievable. It's no place for a girl your age to live, or grow up in. That's why—"

"We're leaving on Sandy soon?" It took considerable effort to keep my tone entirely and obscenely innocent.

Mom's hanging mouth and gobsmacked expression — and smooth furred red ears pointed straight up — told me everything I needed to know.

"How did you know?" Mom finally asked.

I started ticking off my fingers. "You keep sneaking off to talk to Sandy when you think I'm asleep. We've been working on Sandy almost every day for a week. We've stopped foraging almost entirely except for sweet grass from the garden. You've been staring out to sea more and more often. The last time we were onboard you fixed something and did a happy dance saying, 'Yes yes yes thank you yes!'"

I hopped off and proceeded to emulate Mom's happy dance. It involved lots and lots of feet tapping and bouncing in place. I broke into giggles half way through as she had been really, really happy and silly looking.

Mom flushed. "You are far too clever for your own good, you know that?" Despite the situation, she didn't hide the fondness in her voice. "But yes. We are leaving soon. I have been too complacent. You shouldn't have had to grow up so long and nearly alone with only me for company." Mom reached out and hugged me close.

"But aren't you enough?" Memories of another life flitted through my mind.

I couldn't say I had ever been totally alone there. In some ways it was even similar then. I'd lived with my dad, and he'd done his best with mixed results. My mother here in this life didn't blow him out of the water, but I didn't think they could meaningfully compare. They filled different roles in different lives when I'd needed them. Yet, I couldn't deny that my mother in this world fulfilled a closeness I'd never known from him, or really, anyone in my old world.

Mom laughed, but she shook her head. "It's not that. I… things aren't right. I'm not sure they ever will be. There's so much I should be able to give you, but can't. However, the one thing I know for certain is that this island, for all that it has sheltered us, is not a permanent home. We need to get out and find other people. There's no future here." Her words felt oddly grim, near the end.

I listened and understood. Her words made sense. From my old life, I knew the potential here was minute, to say the least. There was no school to learn from, no friends outside my Mom to be made, and few adventures to experience. Chances are even if we could live our whole lives here, the day-to-day experiences would not significantly change outside what I'd already experienced in the five short years I'd been alive. We'd continue until we couldn't, and it was as simple as that.

Yet, for all of that awareness, for all of my understanding of the logic of her words, I couldn't suppress the upwelling of trepidation in me. It began slowly in the tips of my fingers and spread up and down my back, like a swarm of icy beetles crawling in my skin. For all that this place was so, so unbearably small even to me, this was still a home, and all I'd known in this world.

Something in my expression must've given away my thoughts as Mom spoke up. "We'll be fine, Kitten." There was a long pause. "Probably."

"Mama!" I shouted. Her smirk was pure evil.

"Just kidding," she said. Something in her voice caught my attention, but I wasn't quite sure what it was. "Think of it like a new adventure. New land to see, new plants, and hopefully new people, too. Maybe even some girls your age to play with. Doesn't that sound nice?"

I really don't think my look fooled her on the last bit, but to be fair, I didn't try very hard.

Frankly, the last bit sounded awful. I was not remotely certain how to even begin categorizing myself given my memories of another world and another life, but I was fairly certain said memories had well and truly poisoned the well on any patience I might have with other kids my age. Everything else could be okay. That's what I told myself, at least.

Wait, how would adult strangers even view me? I know I didn't act like a normal five-year-old nor did I think I could fake it for any extended length of time. Would I be like one of those creepy kids in fiction who moved and acted nothing like kids should?

I was suddenly struck by the image of myself in a blood stained dress wandering an abandoned hospital and…

Yeah, that was definitely something that'd have unsettled me in my old life. It unsettled me now. I should probably stick to my normal clothes and avoid formal wear.

Still, the possibility of just interacting with other adults other than my mom, heck, just people in general, sunk its hooks into my brain and wouldn't let go. I had Mom to go off of, but what would we even find out there? Would we find Mom's own civilization and move into her ancestral home? Would we be taken in by someone else? Would we find wizards and witches? Grim faced technological barbarians? Peaceful monks seeking enlightenment? Weirdoes in colorful clothes posing against each other?

I had absolutely no idea what was out there. Suddenly, the horizon across the sea felt like a Pandora's Box and I couldn't suppress a burst of anxiety at the idea.

Which…huh, that was nothing new. Anxiety went hand in hand with my old life. I was really wishing it hadn't made the trip here.

Despite my best efforts, my mind raced at the possibilities. I really, really wanted to believe the best, that whatever we did encounter out there, that they'd be nice and welcoming, but that was not how anxiety worked. It only cared for the bad things.

A number of things could easily go wrong. I didn't know exactly what the state of the world was, but the very existence of a warship like Sandy implied a conflict of some scale, or at a minimum threat of war. We could make it landside and immediately be arrested as prisoners of war and thrown in a camp to rot. Maybe Mom's home kingdom of Illiana had lost and a new regime had taken hold and it wouldn't be happy to welcome an old veteran like Mom back. Hell, it could be we make it back and end up in a bureaucratic nightmare as Mom is registered as dead and she legally can't be a person, meaning just getting food might be near impossible in society nevertheless shelter, clothing, and other necessities of life. Just living out of a dirty and poorly insulated shack might be among the better outcomes in this scenario.

I wished my brain would stop. It didn't.

I'd only jokingly broached the very thought of technological barbarians, but what if that wasn't the case? What if we were all that were left and the moment, we made it to land we discovered we had violated sacred laws regarding technology and they executed Mom before dragging me away to be reeducated?

I couldn't help it, the possibilities kept coming to me, seemingly faster and faster, and—

Mom flicked my nose.

I blinked, briefly going cross eyed before glaring at her.

"It'll be fine, sweetie. I'll make sure of it." She said, hugging me close.

For a moment, an utterly glorious moment, my brain shut up and let me believe in her.

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If you've paid to read this anywhere outside of Patreon, SubscribeStar, or Ko-Fi, then you've been scammed and someone is ripping you off as it is stolen.

If you're reading this on any other site than RoyalRoad, SufficientVelocity,Spacebattles, QuestionableQuesting, MZNovel, Wattpad, or Scribblehub or it's by anyone other than HiddenMaster, it's been plagiarized and stolen.

________________________________________

Chapter Fifteen: Author's Note

It's kinda odd to be at this point, well over the tipping point of arc one. Mild spoilers, but we are on the downhill slope here.

Makes me weirdly melancholy. Then again, so do a lot of things in writing, so nothing new there.

---

Obligatory author plug because I'd love to write more but society sadly says I need monies to keep living (and support my growing addiction to commissioning catgirl art)

Support me on Patreon, Ko Fi, or Subscribe Star. Check them advance chapters uploaded every weekend, too. Or check out my website for links to my other author accounts, contact, socials, etc. Anything is appreciated :3

Also I have a discord now! Check it out. I would love to chat with fans. :3

 

[Keksimus]

"It'll be fine, sweetie. I'll make sure of it." She said, hugging me close.

Click to shrink...

oh no

Mild spoilers, but we are on the downhill slope here.

Click to shrink...

Oh no.