Help! My Moms Are Overpowered Tyrants, and I'm Stuck as Their Baby!

"I plan to," I murmured quietly, unease coiling tightly in my stomach.

Despite my brave words, doubt crept quietly into the edges of my thoughts, slithering into the spaces between certainty and bravado. Lady Nyx's crimson eyes lingered like a ghostly echo in my memory, sharp yet unreadable, casting shadows that stubbornly refused to fade.

My parents, never content with half-measures, had dispatched spies to Arcanum immediately. Discreet, trained in shadows and silence, they slipped into the school unnoticed, blending seamlessly into the chaos. For days, coded letters arrived, carefully sealed in obsidian wax, each bearing tidings more unsettling than the last.

I sat curled in the cushioned window seat of my chambers, moonlight filtering through heavy velvet curtains. Shadows stretched long and dark across the polished floors, lit only faintly by a single enchanted lantern hovering gently beside me. The latest report rested heavy in my hands, inked carefully in faint runes that shimmered subtly beneath the pale moonlight.

The words twisted sharply within my chest, icy tendrils of dread snaking painfully through my veins:

"West Wing corridors sealed without explanation. Runes of containment carved hastily into doors. No explanations offered. Three professors dismissed suddenly official reason: sabbatical. True whereabouts unknown."

The parchment trembled slightly in my grasp as I exhaled shakily, dread tightening its cruel hold upon me.

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[It's getting worse,] the system whispered softly, voice tinged with quiet seriousness.

"Clearly," I murmured dryly. "The Arcanum isn't even pretending anymore."

[Someone's cleaning house. Removing anyone who might resist whatever's coming.]

I bit my lip anxiously, fingers tracing absently over the delicate runes inked onto the parchment. "You think it's Nyx?"

[She's at the center of it. But whether she's puppet or puppeteer unclear.]

I sighed deeply, letting my head fall back against the window's cool glass. The gardens below stretched out in a tranquil illusion of peace, moonlit paths weaving softly between blooming nightflowers. But shadows danced quietly beneath every tree, every hedge, secrets whispering darkly in their hidden depths.

Suddenly, a quiet scraping sound broke my contemplation, sharp enough to jerk my attention swiftly back into the room. My eyes narrowed sharply, heart quickening. Slowly, cautiously, I rose from my seat, footsteps silent against the lush carpet, senses straining intently.

Something lay on the floor near the doorway a piece of folded parchment, edges shimmering faintly with residual magic. It had been slipped beneath the door by subtle, clever enchantment, bypassing every protection spell guarding my chambers.

I knelt slowly, fingers trembling slightly as I picked up the delicate parchment. Carefully, cautiously, I unfolded it, heart thudding anxiously.

The words were scrawled hastily in jagged, desperate handwriting—dark ink soaking ominously into the parchment, letters bleeding faintly outward like an open wound:

"Don't come back. You were never meant to survive this place."

I stared numbly at the words, ice flooding swiftly through my veins, dread clawing sharply at my heart. Fear and anger surged fiercely, mingling violently within my chest.

[Well, isn't that reassuring,] the system drawled sarcastically. [Nothing says 'welcome back' like anonymous death threats.]

"Who sent this?" I demanded silently, anger trembling faintly beneath my words.

[Unknown. Magic signature masked. They know what they're doing.]

I closed my fist tightly around the parchment, crushing the fragile paper in a brief, fierce burst of frustration. "Clearly someone who doesn't want me asking questions."

[Or someone genuinely trying to protect you badly, but still.]

"Helpful," I muttered bitterly, gaze darting suspiciously around the room, anxiety pricking sharply beneath my skin. Every shadow now seemed sinister, every creak of the old castle walls whispered threats rather than comfort.

A sharp knock at my door jerked my attention swiftly toward the sound. I quickly shoved the parchment deep into my pocket, forcing composure into my voice. "Enter."

The heavy wooden door opened cautiously, Mara's familiar face peering gently around its edge, expression carefully neutral. "You alright, Elyzara? I thought I heard something."

I forced a reassuring smile, masking anxiety behind a practiced calm. "Fine, Mara. Just restless."

She stepped fully into the room, Elira close behind her, both wearing their sleek guardian uniforms. Elira's sharp gaze swept swiftly around the room, lingering briefly on my tense posture.

"Something's wrong," Elira murmured knowingly, stepping closer, voice gentle yet commanding.

I sighed deeply, reluctantly pulling the parchment from my pocket, silently handing it over. Mara unfolded it quickly, eyes darkening sharply as she read, anger flickering fiercely across her normally gentle face.

"This came tonight?" Mara asked sharply, voice tight.

"Yes," I replied quietly, anxiety twisting uncomfortably in my chest.

Elira scowled faintly, hand resting reflexively on the hilt of her sword. "Then we double the watch. No one approaches this chamber without our knowledge."

Mara nodded firmly, eyes fierce yet gentle. "We'll protect you, Elyzara. Whatever's happening, we won't allow harm to reach you."

Warmth flickered gently within my chest at their protective words. "Thank you."

[Adorable. They're determined to babysit you into safety,] the system teased gently.

"Shut up," I retorted silently, though a faint smile twitched reluctantly at my lips.

Mara glanced toward Elira, exchanging a swift, silent conversation of narrowed eyes and subtle nods. "We should report this immediately."

I nodded slowly, unease still coiled tightly in my stomach. "Agreed. Just be careful. We don't know who to trust."

Elira's eyes hardened grimly, voice quiet yet fiercely reassuring. "We trust no one but each other."

I sighed softly, relief briefly flickering gently through my tension. "Good."

They slipped quietly from the room, leaving me once more alone with shadows, secrets, and lingering threats. My gaze drifted slowly toward the moonlit gardens beyond the window, anxiety and determination battling fiercely within my chest.

[We can still turn back, you know,] the system murmured quietly, voice oddly gentle.

I shook my head slowly, jaw tightening stubbornly. "No. Running solves nothing. Whoever's behind this they've underestimated me."

[That's the spirit. Arrogance in the face of almost certain death. My favorite.]

I laughed softly despite myself, anxiety easing gently beneath the comforting familiarity of the system's dry humor. "It's not arrogance. It's a promise."