The morning light filters through the heavy curtains of your bedroom. Dark blue walls surround you—the familiar weight of the oak bed beneath you, the white sheets tangled from sleep. Sarah lies beside you, still resting, her dark hair spilled across the pillow.
From upstairs, you can hear the faint creak of floorboards—slaves moving about, beginning their duties. Sasha will be waking soon. Hannah will be in the hallway beside her. Connor is likely already awake.
Outside, beyond the mansion walls, the hum of a guard patrol drifts past—helmets scanning, data feeding, confirming who is free and who is not. Wakai never sleeps.
The mansion is yours. Every soul under this roof answers to you.
What do you do first, Master?