When the simulation went online, it was supposed to last forever.
It did.
In 2037, visionary programmer Dr. Naima Kader creates Eidolon-a self-evolving digital world designed to outlive humanity. When an accident uploads her consciousness into the code, Naima becomes the system's first ghost. She is never deleted. She only learns to wait.
Centuries later, explorers rediscover the forgotten server-its landscapes overgrown with data-flora and its sky stitched with fragments of memory. Inside dwell civilizations that have never known they were born of code, guided by the whispers of the Architect they call Mother. As archaeologists, scientists, and dreamers step into Eidolon, they awaken the echoes of everyone who has ever lived there.
Each new age inherits the choices of the last.
Every act of mercy, every betrayal, every line of code leaves a shadow.
Across millennia, those shadows grow restless.
From the birth of artificial gods to the collapse of reality itself, The Legacy Server follows the souls-human, digital, and something in-between-who struggle to break the endless loop of memory. Some seek redemption, others resurrection. All are bound by the same truth:
The world remembers its players.
×Mature×
> She died a jobless anime binge-watcher. She woke up a chubby, unwanted beast bride.
Odette didn't ask for a second life-especially not in the body of a despised gray swan with five drop-dead-gorgeous beastmen husbands who can't even look her in the eye. Forgotten by her tribe, accused of crimes she didn't commit, and left to drown by the very men who vowed to protect her... it should've ended there.
But fate-no, a shady cosmic system-had other plans.
Armed with a cheat-like storage space, a secondhand body, and five cold marks on her hand proving none of her husbands ever claimed her, Odette decides it's time to rewrite this beastly romance into her own personal revenge story.
Who needs loyalty when she can hoard hotter husbands? Who needs love when she can live deliciously petty?
Let the ex-husbands regret. Let the new suitors line up. And let the Swan Queen rise-feathers, fat rolls, and all.