The porcelain General

A throbbing pain hammered against Elliot's skull, the sensation so overwhelming it felt like his brain was rattling inside his head. His body was cold, yet his skin burned, as if feverish. The last thing he remembered was the system's cryptic words, a sensation of being pulled apart—and then, nothing.

Groaning, he forced his eyes open.

His vision swam, a blur of muted colors and shifting shadows. He blinked rapidly, trying to clear the haze, only to be greeted by the sight of a grand tent. Heavy fabric draped from the ceiling, the material thick and embroidered with symbols he didn't recognize. A polished wooden table stood in the center, covered in maps, ink bottles, and an assortment of weapons. The scent of dried parchment and metal filled the air.

Elliot sat up abruptly, panic seizing his chest. Where the hell was he?

[Host has successfully transmigrated.]

The sloth system's voice chimed lazily in his head, dragging the words out like it had just woken from a nap.

Elliot let out a long breath, pressing his fingers against his temple. "Great. Love that for me. But where exactly did you drop me?"

[Welcome to the battlefield, Porcelain Commander! You'll probably gonna staarth having some vision, but don't worry it will not hurt so don't be a bebyy]

His stomach sank. 'Battlefield?'

Before he could process, the tent flaps slammed open. A blur of gold and white barreled through, knocking over a chair and nearly sending an ink bottle flying. "Elliot!"

Elliot barely had time to react before Aurelian Veyne—typical auburn, golden-eyed, frantic, and visibly disheveled—grabbed his face, tilting it left and right as if inspecting him for injuries. "Are you okay? Do you feel pain? Can you see properly? Do you even know where you are?!"

Elliot, still half-dazed, squinted at him. "Uh. Personal space?"

Aurelian ignored him, checking his pulse. "You collapsed so suddenly! Do you know how worried I was?! What if you had actually—"

[System Notification: Character Profile Detected]

**—Displaying Data—**

**Name: Aurelian Veyne

**Race: Mutant (Celestial Hybrid)

**Power: Time Manipulation (Limited)

**MP: 720/800

**Relationship: Childhood Friend (Overprotective)

**Status: Annoyed but deeply concerned

[Side Note: This one is clingy. High probability of scolding incoming. Good luck, Host.]

Elliot's eye twitched. 'Thanks for that.'

Aurelian finally stopped his frantic inspection and frowned. "Wait. You look… off. Do you remember everything?"

Elliot opened his mouth to respond—then hesitated. There was something missing. Aurelian's presence felt familiar, too familiar, but the details were hazy. He knew they were childhood friends, yet when he tried to recall moments from the past, it was like looking at a blurred painting.

"Uh… yeah?" Elliot tried, unsure.

Aurelian narrowed his eyes, clearly not buying it. "What's my favorite food?"

Elliot panicked. "Uh. Air?"

Aurelian gasped. "You forgot! And who in the right mind would answer Air?!"

Elliot held up his hands. "Whoa, whoa, calm down! It's just—temporary amnesia? Well! don't know you probably would say air!"

Aurelian groaned, running a hand through his hair. "Of course this would happen. You always do reckless things and then expect me to clean up the mess!"

Elliot scoffed. "I just woke up, and you're already blaming me?"

[System Alert: Relationship slightly strained. Chance of more nagging increased by 30%.]

Before Aurelian could launch into another lecture, the tent flaps parted again—but this time, with controlled precision. A tall, imposing figure stepped in, his gaze cool and calculating. Kieran Vale.

Unlike Aurelian's chaotic entrance, Kieran moved like a shadow—watchful, unreadable. His sharp blue eyes studied Elliot with something akin to quiet curiosity.

"Commander. You're awake."

Elliot squinted. "Why do you say that like you were betting on me staying unconscious?"

Kieran didn't react. Aurelian, however, huffed. "Because half the camp thought you wouldn't wake up. And the other half was busy fighting off mutants while you napped."

Elliot groaned, rubbing his face. 'Fantastic. First day on the job, and I'm already slacking.'

[Correction.. You are the Porcelain Commander,] the system yawned. [A position given to maintain control over you. You hold authority in name, but no one actually respects you.]

Elliot rolled his eyes. "Wow, thanks for the confidence boost."

[Just stating the facts.]

Kieran cut through the banter with a cold assessment. "The Wall still holds, but the mutants are evolving. Scouts reported a new type—stronger, faster. And the corrupted ones… they're spreading."

Elliot 'ok.. what happened to hello? Hi? How are you?'

Aurelian's expression darkened. "We need to act. Sitting here waiting for another attack is a death wish."

Kieran finally spoke. "We've recovered new crystals from the battlefield."

Elliot perked up. Crystals! He vaguely remembered the system mentioning them before his isekai trip.

[Ah, yes. Crystals. Highly valuable. Enhance abilities, stamina, and powers. Mutants absorb them to evolve. Humans… if lucky, they strengthen. If unlucky, they rot from the inside out.]

Elliot grimaced. 'Cool. Love that little side effect.'

Aurelian crossed his arms. "We need to use them wisely."

Elliot knew one thing—if he was going to survive here, he had to play along until he could figure things out. He leaned back, crossing his arms. "Alright, bring me the reports, maps, whatever you have. If I'm supposed to be in charge, let's strategize."

Kieran and Aurelian exchanged glances. It was clear neither fully trusted him. But for now, they had no choice.

As they moved to retrieve the documents, Elliot let out a slow breath.

[First day on the job, and you haven't died yet] the system drawled. [Impressive, but don't worry I'll help you]

Elliot sighed. 'This is going to be a nightmare.'