Past Thread: >>6281756
Archive: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Missval
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Twitter/X account for important announcements, contact and stuff: https://x.com/MissvalQM


Your name is Shelly Suzume, and you’ve finally discovered what really happened to you all those years ago. About your condition, your mind, and the mess it’s become.

Unfortunately, the truth isn’t good news.

After a retrieval mission was abruptly changed at the last minute, you decided to take matters into your own hands and infiltrate the Black Sheep Family’s headquarters. You’d been here before. Partially, at least. But with the city under blackout and Grimm swarming the outskirts, this seemed like the perfect time to go deeper.

And, somehow, it paid off.

You found her. The scientist who once worked as a nurse back at Haven Academy. Cerise. You interrogated her, accidentally broke her nose, and finally learned what really happened to you. Why your mind fractures the way it does. Why children flinch when they see your eyes. Why… you’re the way you are.

To put it bluntly, Grimm-infused Dust emits waves that warp the brain in unnatural ways. That’s what happened to you. No cure, at least not yet, and considering how experimental this whole thing is, you’re not even sure if one even exists. But you’re not about to stop looking.

Cerise asked for your help finding someone. An associate of hers. You agreed, partly because you’re not a monster, partly because you needed her alive and cooperative if you wanted answers.

Then came the elevator. A tight, hidden shaft buried deep beneath the mountain. Halfway down, the power started to flicker. You tried to stabilize things with your Semblance, but it didn’t hold.

Long story short, the elevator crashed. You got off light. Just a few broken fingers and toes. At least you’re alive.

Cerise isn’t… that well. She’s unconscious, with a hit in the back of the head, and without Aura to heal herself.

Now you’re trapped deep in the Black Sheep’s hidden laboratories with a dying scientist in your arms. Given what you’ve heard about this place (The experiments, the lack of ethics, the vast number of unholy secrets), you have no idea what’s waiting for you down here.

But one thing’s clear. You have to save Cerise. Mostly because she’s probably the only person in Remnant who can help you fix what’s been done to your mind.

The Caretaker Quest - Part 8

This is part 8 of the "side quest" for "Disappearing Hogwarts".
An unofficial alternate timeline based on HeadQM´s highly praised quest, Disappearing Hogwarts.
Reading the original story is not exactly necessary but heavily encouraged since this quest will contain references to it.
Created mostly as a place to wait while HeadQM was away for a while but slowly evolved into his own thing.

Quick recap so far:
>Recently graduated Ravenclaw student is hired at Hogwarts as the new Caretaker.
>Merlin somehow ended up inside your head.
>Harry Potter´s daughter died, letting Salazar Slythering (previously stuck inside her head) free to continue his quest to control The Beast, an all powerful ancient creature accidentally created by Merlin.
>He is currently now trapped inside a poor and weakened girl named Artemis.
>You obtained a piece of The Beast
>The Beast is now trying to escape under any circumstance
>Because of it, magic is now gone and you now have to find a way to get the rest of the pieces before The Beast escapes
What will happen now? Let's find out!

Part 7 here >>6274553

links to previous threads
Part 1:
https://archived.moe/qst/thread/6038711/

Part 2:
https://archived.moe/qst/thread/6080818/

Part 3:
https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2024/6122821/

Part 4:
https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2025/6159531/

Part 5:
https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2025/6196175/

Part: 6:
https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2025/6236973/

Part 7:
https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2025/6274553/

List of currently archived threads
https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Caretaker%20Quest
Thanks to IlvermoryQM for the links!
(if anyone can figure out a way to save the ".moe" threads into "thisisnotatrueending" that would be much appreciated)

To most, the idea of being reincarnated into another world was a mere fantasy.

But to you...

It was reality.

Your name is John Doe, and a few months ago you got hit by a truck. After your death you met Herta, the beautiful (and perverted) Goddess of Artifice. She told you that you needed to pick a cheat skill before she could send you to one of the many generic isekai worlds available.

"Because that's heavenly policy!" She'd said.

But instead of picking between those boring options, you took the Goddess Herself and brought her with you to a world of her own creation.

This universe of hers was slapped together with 'tags' and generic fantasy themes. Some might scoff at the abundance of stale tropes and cliched genres, but things were just the way you liked them.

Well, you were still getting used to the unfamiliar logic and morality of this brave new world. Beyond being mere ideas that were held by people, these conceits extended deep into cultural thought, sculpting history and even shaping the laws of physics.

But that wasn't all this universe had in store: Soldiers, airships, mechs, clockwork robots, walking artillery units, all of these and more marched from their homeland's borders to fight in a neverending skirmish against their enemies.

Yet these modern conflicts were petty when compared to the Demon Lord's invasion. So great was that war, that the scars from that era lingered like a thorn on the side. Corruption magic threatened to destroy everything if not purged whenever it was found, despite it being many millennia since the demons were vanquished. This evil magic will grow and fester if no precautions were taken. Thankfully there were many organizations in the world that dealt with these sorts of things.

Today, gold poured from the coffers of nations as everyone clamored to get a slice of the goods and weapons available. In spite of the constant wars and battles, commerce flowed through the planet, giving and taking away fortunes in an instant.

These realities gave testament to some of this universe's priorities - war, trade, and steampunk tech.

And that didn't even mention what is blatantly the most important of this universe's conceits: Slavery. It was a fact of life. Everyone you'd met in this world approved of it and spoke about it like it was the most common thing in the world. Which, in this world's context, made perfect sense.

As Freeborn Men are people, thus women and the lower classes are considered property. Although one could argue that slavery in this world was not the same type of chattel slavery that might pop into your mind whenever someone in your old world mentioned the word 'slave'. Providing evidence to support that theory, the Bondage Accords, which are a sort of international agreement most nations adhered to, granted certain protections to the enslaved despite their legal status as objects.

>>>/pol/525802499
>post women who look the best.
With pleasure.

It was late in the afternoon, as staff were starting to wrap up testing, check-ups and other activities in the deeper parts of the facility. However, whilst most subjects were being brought back to their containment, this was not the case for Kaenum. In fact, she was currently following Catherine to a place she hadn't visited before. "So, who are you bringing me to?" Kaenum asked calmly, looking around and noticing that there were a few guardsmen around, which made her both curious and concerned. "Her name is Edith Astor. Codename, PW-87. I designed her with Roraima. However, after she refused to do what Roraima demanded of her, he... punished her." Catherine said in a regretful tone, Kaenum giving an understanding nod. "I fortunately managed to take full control of her, ensuring Roraima doesn't hurt her further. Unfortunately, she has been rather scarred by the experience. Which is why I was hoping that you could help her out. Perhaps give her some therapy to help her cope with things."

Whilst Kaenum was saddened that a subject had to suffer so much under Roraima, she was optimistic that she could help out here. After all, she had trained quite a bit when it came to therapy, and knew that she could help anyone out with enough time. "Of course, Catherine. I'd gladly help out." Kaenum responded, Catherine smiling with relief, as the two headed towards the secluded and relatively well-guarded chamber. Until finally, the two would reach the large set of doors leading to the chamber. "Will you be joining me?" Kaenum asked to Catherine, who paused before reluctantly shaking her head. "I want this to be between you and her. I've talked with her a bit, but... I could not get her to talk much. She needs someone else. Another subject..." Kaenum nodded again, taking a deep breath before looking ahead. "Very well then." With that, Catherine would give a nod to the nearby guardsmen, before taking a step back.

Kaenum stepped through the door after it opened, entering the small space which separated the outside world from the containment chamber. Though once the second set of doors opened, Kaenum was met with a rather neat and homely looking room. Clearly, Catherine had tried o decorate the room in such a way that it helped Edith feel more at home. Though, given how things looked eerily untouched, it had not been too effective. Not to mention, the fact that Edith wasn't really doing anything in the room. Kaenum spotted her in the corner, sitting on the floor and facing the wall. "Go away..." Edith mumbled in a worn-down voice, Kaenum remaining calm and quietly entering the room. Kaenum looked over the subject, quickly noticing all the combat features Roraima had clearly given her. Those large and long wings, those clawed hands and her stature all were traits meant to appear intimidating. And yet, Edith appeared more sombre than scary. "Edith, it's a pleasure to meet you. My name is Kaenum. I am here to talk to you."

>It is January 24th of the Year 71 of the Cosmic Era

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>>6321520

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<span class="mu-s"><span class="mu-i">Frieden Moon, The Mind-Killer. Black-Band pilot of ZAFT.</span></span> Has found himself participating in a covert infiltration of the Atlantic Federation's G-Project using his background as a former EA pilot... Though unfortunately caught in the crossfire of ZAFT's operation to steal the Mobile Weapons in Heliopolis Colony. A deceived partner uncovers a secret of the Nation of ORB. <span class="mu-i">Which now lays on Frieden's own hands to pilot.</span>

You've died.

You can't quite remember how it happened, you remember screaming and the crunching noise of metal on metal. You remember feeling pain and scared for only a split second. The glitter of crushed glass beneath your collapsing body. And then... Then what?

<span class="mu-i">Then nothing.</span>

You die and then you wake up.

Cold silk. The soft drip of rain drops against large windows. The muffled, chaotic heartbeat of a grand estate in full movement, like a buzzing hive. People laughing all around you, you're surrounded by a crowd of men and women dressed in elegant clothes; talking to you, smiling to you, vying for your attention.

You flinch, and everything is wrong: the portrait on the wall, the candlelight, your dress... You know these details. You've seen them before... not in life, but in fiction.

So shocked, in fact, that you've dropped the glass of wine you'd been holding mere seconds before, and it breaks on impact, splashing the wide, long skirt of your dress with red like a blood stain. Everyone's attention is on you. And a handsome man with dark hair and dressed in an old-fashioned military uniform approaches, handkerchief in hand.

He talks, but your head's roaring, and can't really focus on what he says. You're panicking, you need to get out.

He tries to get you to stay still, and you pull away, choking, suffocating. You need to get out. You need to escape. Panic's got it's ice-cold grip around your throat, around your heart and you manage to pull away, but whoever this man is he seems to understand what's happening and instead of forcing you to stay he herds you out into a balcony overseeing a beautiful rose garden that surrounds the manor you're in.

There's no denying it anymore. You're in <span class="mu-s">Crimson Grace of the Rose Bride</span> a game you played back in... Back in the <span class="mu-i">before</span>.

is this true? europeans dont think they are white and would rather infight? are they retarded lol

<span class="mu-s">Our bittersweet farewell to youth.</span>

“The Southlands.” That’s what the races of the Northwest call them, as if they were one place—a realm unified under a single nation or people. In truth, the Southlands are a molten mosaic of humans, beastmen, and sundry others flowing over and through each other in coexistence and in conflict. The land itself is a tapestry of desert and jungle, of low savannah and high plateau, where even the Race of Man is far from uniform: the hides of the humans here range from a ruddy tan to a deep blue-black that nearly equals the Drow of Wevenore.

Not that you got to see much of it.

<span class="mu-s">You</span> are James Efron, Senior Initiate of the Hawksong Mages’ Tower. At your age—twenty-three—you really ought to be a Mage Apprentice. You should be studying in some stuffy laboratory back home in the big city like Izirina Henzler, or maybe taking a practicum under some smaller adjunct Associate Tower like your old pal Testa. But <span class="mu-i">nooo</span>, you craved a life of action, of adventure! ‘<Fireball> is meant for the field!’ you used to boast of your favourite spell. So you’d taken the field, first as a formal Field Researcher and then later as a freelance adventurer-for-hire.

And that had led you here. To the Southlands. To this dungeon.

It isn’t the cool kind of dungeon, full of monsters to kite and <Chain Lightning> for coin, alas. It’s the kind where Southrons store their prisoners-of-war, for that seems to be the size of your sad situation: a prisoner, at the beginnings of what is shaping up to be a full-scale intercivilizational conflict.

The Men of the South may be myriad, but tensions between their ilk and the fairer folk of the Northwest—your homeland, Hawksong’s aegis—have been a unifying cause as of late, and not only for the human races. Relations have been fraying since before you were born, when a sinister cabal of dark-skinned demon-worshippers staged a terrorist attack on the Mages’ Tower itself, assassinating the Archmage and destroying the much-beloved Eternal Fountain.