While the skies of Belzerg itself were blackened and ruined, to the point where modded lungs or replacements were far and away the most popular bio-augs on the market, above the world orbited a verdant gem. To those who had witnessed the silver beauty of what had once been called Eris, the primary planetary moon, it would at first glance appear to be either a distortion from the pollution, or perhaps that the moon had been desecrated.
While it was true that the moon had been blasphemed in unspeakable ways, the green-blue tinge came from the lush landscape of the lunar surface. While once the moon had been a near airless desert, devoid of most life, now it was thick with moisture and oxygen, to the point that giant insects flourished, and plant life ran out of control.
Unlike the planet it orbited, the moon of Discord (having been rechristened some hundred years ago) was covered not in a decaying cityscape, but rather a thick jungle, save at the polar caps where taiga and prairie were present instead.
However, only a fool, or a desperate Belzerg native, would have mistaken the moon for paradise.
Biomodded wildlife ruled the jungle, and the giant insects were often lethally toxic with an appetite for humanoid flesh. The damp floor was choked with strangling vines and acidic pitcher plants that were as happy to swallow a man as a beast. Giant predator beasts fed upon the insects with fang and claw, while the herbivores were ill tempered and territorial.
Still, it was this moon that fed the dying world below it. The giant insects were harvested and turned into nutrient rich goop that was sold as ration bars to the starving masses. The jungle produced a number of fruits that, once stripped of their toxins, were fermented or canned to be sold to those below.
And despite the dangers, life upon Eris, to give the moon its true name and source, was far better than it was below. Unlike the other corporations, the workers of ChimeraTech enjoyed a reasonable 50 hour work week, two weeks of paid vacation a year, and air they could breath without developing lung cancer before the age of forty. As the ones who made the food, their rations were far fresher and more appetizing, even a mean sewage maintenance worker eating as well as a senior manager on the planetary surface.
Indeed, it was the dream of the low level management and skilled workers to save up enough to immigrate to the moon and take a job as a menial there. High level executives took their vacations in the various casinos and resorts that ChimeraTech leased to Masked Media and the Church of Serenity. Though it was not the church's Cycle that the denizens of the moon worshiped.
The object of their adoration and affection had shifted throughout the centuries, not because the individual was a new one, but because the flesh they wore had been changed so often. This year, CEO Sylvia, called the Flesh Shaper, wore the form of a tall elven woman, with wide hips, generous breasts, dusky skin, dark brown hair with a reddish tinge, and oddly broad shoulders. What lay beneath the concealing folds of their red evening gown was anyone's guess.
The worship of gods or goddesses was forbidden and illegal, but the Cult of the Fleshshaper had always been tacitly allowed and encouraged. For they were the giver of life, the shaper of pleasure, and the one who succored two worlds.
Currently, Sylvia was swaying down the plush red carpet of her gilded and marbled estate on the edge of the northern savannah, their long legs taking great strides in their bright red heels and matching evening gown, their current aide scrambling along behind them.
"What is next on our agenda, Sena?" Sylvia drawled, taking a long pull from their cigarette on its holder. No e-cigs for the flesh shaper: they had perhaps the last garden of tobacco, grown for their personal use, with extras sold at exorbitant prices to other CEOs and high level executives.
Sena, Sylvia's current aide and favorite mortal, adjusted her glasses and glanced at a schedule she had long ago memorized. The old style glass lenses were an affectation: her eyes had been sculpted to have perfect vision, but Sylvia enjoyed playing dress up with their toys.
"Next is the video conference with the other CEOs. They likely wish to secure further shipments. Population on Belzerg continues to decline. Food shortages are contributing to the problem."
"And the other part is the dreadful mess Hans made of the oceans and atmosphere," Sylvia tsked. "Why the Poison Slime general was put in charge of that…bah. I suppose after he poisoned Alcanretia there was no stopping him."
Sena nodded, not comprehending why Sylvia sometimes referred to themselves or the heads of the other corporations as "Generals" from time to time, or knowing what Alcanretia was. History was written by those who controlled the narrative, and Masked Media were experts at culling undesirable memories from the collective consciousness of the populace.
"Profits are up for us, as are margins. We can further increase food production by 5% over the next quarter," Sena said, rattling off the low end of the report she had read.
"Mmm. Make it 10%. Keep half for ourselves: when I make my move on the surface, I want to have stronger and more numerous forces. Give the fools down below their 5%. They will strangle their own profits soon enough, and we will swoop in to pick up the pieces," Sylvia declared, turning for her private conference room.
Sena took up her post behind the lavish red couch, an heirloom that was hundreds of years old, at the center of the room, while Sylvia draped themselves over it, resting her arms along the carved wooden back and stroking it. The CEO nodded, and Sena used her subdermal implants to activate the wall screen as the chandelier above dimmed, washing the room in shadows.
The wall flicked, dividing into nine sections. The center section was blank, as was the far left corner, showing where former peers had once resided as a reminder that even CEOs could fall. The other seven screens showed the logos of the Seven Corporations, save for Sylvia's, which showed them in all their glory.
The black and white mask logo in the upper right flashed, then came to life. A masked man in an old style suit appeared, smiling cheerily at the world. His was a visage anyone on Belzerg or Eris would have recognized: Vanir, CEO of Masked Media and the voice of the news.
"Ah, mon cherie, you look as lovely as always. Moi sees that life has been kind to thee lately; hast thou put a spawn in the belly of thy servant, or hast thou given her a rod and stem of her own?" Vanir cackled.
Sena blushed and glanced to the side, unable to meet the eyes of cackling media chief.
"What games I play with my toys is not your concern, Duke of Shame. But I will say that sometimes, it's fun to swap things out. It keeps things fresh in the bedroom," Sylvia drawled, and Sena blushed, nervously adjusting her glasses.
More of the screens came to life as Vanir laughed, from the sour expression of Hans of Santomon Chemicals, to the pious smile of Serina of the Church of Serenity, which controlled health and funerary services.
"And let the weekly dickering and bickering begin," Sylvia said under her breath, before making an imperious gesture. "Ladies, Gentlemen, and beings of everything in between, life is good, is it not? Profits are up, production increases, and the workers are content. Well, for me, at least. Some of you may not be doing as well. Wiz, darling, how is life on tired old Axel?"
The pale, brown haired woman in a very out of date purple robe smiled, nervously fiddling with the waterwheel pendant at her neck. Sylvia considered it horribly tacky to wear your trophies so prominately as that, but Wiz had been the one to finally kill that stupid bitch of a deity. Sylvia supposed she could have worn her necklace of Crimson Demon eyes, as she treasured every one. But their power had been broken when magic died. Or rather, had been killed.
"Oh, well, I-I think our new line of gardening supplies will do very well! People are always complaining that there isn't enough to eat, so I thought helping them grow their own food would be profitable…Plus, they could grow flowers! And that would make things look much nicer…"
"Absurd. This planet's life force is dead. We can barely harvest mold and rats," Beldia growled, his head floating suspended in the liquid of his cybernetic body's chest. "That is why NyteTech's new space program is the way of the future. We need new worlds to conquer. The moon was a good start, and if Sylvia can make that airless rock bloom, what of the other planets?"
Sylvia hid a smirk. "Oh, Beldia, that sounds like a wonderful idea. How have your probes fared?"
"...we're still working on the telemetry," the head said, sulking in its clear fluid.
"Why do you care? It's not as though you need to eat!" Hans complained. "Some of us are actually alive, you know, and I don't want to turn into a headless fool like you! Besides, how could we perform the rituals to raise new undead!"
"Um, well, we could try finding a source of magic…" Wiz suggested. "What about you, Wolbach?"
The horned CEO of Blackstone Construction sniffed. "I gave that up and you know it. It was the only way to ensure our victory. The blood is on all of our hands. It watered this world for a time. For now, it doesn't matter. I'm sated, and I have enough to continue on like this for a very long time. Who cares how many mortals die to fuel the machines, so long as they remain fueled. WIth the moon providing new materials, we can continue this indefinitely."
Sylvia frowned. "It's that attitude that led to all of you being in the situation you're in. If you took better care of your minions and pets, you wouldn't be in such a state."
Sylvia held up a hand, and Sena hastily lowered her head so that Sylvia could stroke her, like a favored dog. Despite herself, Sena closed her eyes in happiness at her owner's touch, sighing happily and leaning into it.
"You see? A little affection, a little food, and a little care…and the world blossoms under you. I still have my fun. Why, just yesterday my clutch of neo-dragons hatched. They fly quite well in this low gravity. When they are grown, I shall hunt them and eat of their flesh. Perhaps carve one or two for my other pleasures. You could have all this, if you could think beyond sucking dry the mortals."
"Oh ho, I think you shall find shame and sorrow aplenty," Vanir chuckled. "Our current arrangement suits moi quite well."
"As long as you increase what you're sending us!" Hans said, pointing an accusatory finger at Sylvia. "We need more workers! If the population keeps dropping, our profits will fall, and that is unacceptable."
"Why should I care what problems you have on your dying ball of dirt?" Sylvia said, taking a long puff of smoke and blowing it at the camera.
"Because if you don't, we'll embargo you and you'll lose profits yourself. With no markets, no ore, and no manufacturing capacity, how long can YOU last?" Beldia demanded. Of course he and Hans were working together.
"Hmm, well, I think you'll find I can survive just fine," Sylvia drawled. "But, well, I suppose I can increase production…but it will cost you."
After that, it was all dithering and dickering and trade negotiations. Still, ChimeraTech had a stranglehold on the food supply, and everyone knew it. Within a few hours, the CEOs had hashed together the outline of how the future of Belzerg would be shaped. The little details were up to their underlings, but Sylvia mostly had what they wanted.
"Mmm, that was exhausting," Sylvia yawned, stretching on the couch and nearly popping out of their dress.
Instantly, Sena removed her clothes, crouching by her owner's side, looking both ashamed, eager, and nervous.
"Hmm, not today, my sweet," Sylvia said, petting Sena's flushed cheek. The truth was, Sylvia was growing bored of Sena. The woman had been too easy to tame, having already harbored some rather perverse fantasies. "You can visit the succubi if you're stressed, or order one of the lesser servants to your rooms."
"I…but…" Sena swallowed and bent her head down, still crouching there naked. "...have I displeased you?"
"I'm tired, pet. Go run along," Sylvia said with a shooing motion. Sena hastily grabbed her clothes, tears leaking down her cheeks. Sylvia glanced at her, frowning. Perhaps Sena needed to be carved again. She'd gone back and forth with Sena, carving her several times before restoring her original organs. But right now a female frame just didn't seem appealing. It was so bothersome being an immortal; finding new pleasures grew harder by the day.
"Perhaps I should experiment on myself," Sylvia mused as the door shut. The breasts under the dress swelled, then shrunk, hips growing wider, then narrower, face and melatonin levels shifting on a whim. More could be altered easily, from a tail, to horns, to the number of limbs.
While their body was still in flux, Sylvia heard an alarm sound, and their shape snapped back to what it had been before the meeting. She stood, frowning, trying to recall just what that particular tone indicated.
A few more bars played, and Sylvia's nostrils suddenly flared as she recalled. That was the sound of-
"Yasaka! Bring up that location!" Sylvia snapped, rising to her feet as a tail slithered back into her body.
"Authenticate," the voice of the computer lapsed.
"Flesh is clay in the sculptor's palm," Sylvia hissed, flexing the fingers of her left hand as talons grew and retracted.
"Magic detected on Belzerg's surface. Location: Axel," the computer responded. An overlay of the surface of the planet below appeared, rapidly zooming into a large area. It was miles across, and near the surface.
"How did they…what type of energy? Is Vanir calling up old friends? Did Wiz try something?" Sylvia demanded.
"Magic Type: Divine. Domain: Light."
"How!?" Sylvia hissed. "How did they-"
Striding to the door, Sylvia flung it open. She looked about, and spotted a janitor with his back to her, mindlessly cleaning the floor with a rotor disk. "You!"
The janitor did not respond, simply continuing his task. They were a brown haired human, somewhere towards the end of adolescence , and male by their figure. Though in Sylvia's halls, that was no guarantee . The Flesh Shaper was fond of carving whomever caught their fancy.
"You! Janitor! Look at your Executive!" Sylvia snarled, striding forward.
But still, there was no response. Sylvia realized the young man had on old style headphones. They were cheaper than subdermal implants, and still saw occasional use.
"Listen to me!" Slyvia barked, and ripped away the headphones. The sound of a bright, peppy woman's voice came out of it. Sylvia recognized it as one of Vanir's pop idol groups he was forever forming and breaking apart to milk for drama.
"Hey! Lady, those are mine!" the janitor snapped, and spun about to snatch the headphones away from Sylvia. "Watch what you take! I had to save up half a days…wages…to…oh shit."
Sylvia crossed their arms under their breasts, smiling in amusement. "Lady? Do you not know to whom you speak?"
"Yeah, well, I'm not into futas, and I always imagined you with a clam instead of a sword," the boy mumbled. Then he glared up at her. "But even if you're the CEO, don't go stealing my stuff! Or I'll file a complaint with HR!"
Sylvia leaned down, sharpening their teeth to razor's edges as she smiled. "Oh really?"
The boy eyed her flatly. "Yeah that's not doing it for me. That's the sort of thing to give a guy nightmares. How am I supposed to fantasize about you sucking…never mind. Look, just fire me or turn me into soylent green or whatever if you have a problem. I just want to do my job, get enough money to play my games, and live as comfortable a life as possible."
Sylvia blinked. No one had spoken to them like that since…since…they couldn't recall. Unconsciously, their teeth flattened, as something stiffened under their dress.
"Well, aren't you a feisty little one. I can't decide if you're just stupid or…reckless. I'm not sure I care which. But I'll make you long for me as a 'trap' little man. What is your name?" Sylvia glanced down at the name tag on the uniform. Subdermal implants were for the help: Sylvia relied on biomancy alone. "Sato? Hmmm. That's Japanese. Have you the blood of heroes?"
"I have the blood of two dumbasses who got themselves killed in a gang war, but were smart enough to have a good insurance policy. I cashed it out and bought a ticket here, but sadly even in paradise a guy has to eat," Sato answered, folding his arms over his chest and blushing.
"Ah, what a loving son, using his parents' deaths as a meal ticket," Sylvia laughed. Then they shook their head. "But I don't have time for this. Come. I need a mortal with me, and I don't want Sena damaged. If you serve me well, I'll reward you."
"Can it be with a cute girl? I can't find a date," Sato grumbled as he lay down his machine on the floor and followed after Sylvia's crooked finger.
"Oh, how delightful! A virgin, are you? No need to answer. I can see it written all over your face. Well, if you do well…I'll fix that for you," Sylvia cooed.
"I, um, I can see that you're excited…sir? I'm not really into-"
"Oh, Kazuma. You don't even know what you're into yet. But trust me: After one night with me, everyone is into the same thing: More of me," Sylvia promised.
Sato didn't look certain. "I'm not sure-"
"And, of course, you'll get a substantial bonus for services rendered. Enough for a boy like you to enjoy years of idleness," Sylvia promised with a smirk.
"Well, hell, I guess I'm up for anything once! What do I need to do, uh, boss?" Sato asked, hurrying to keep up with Sylvia's longer stride.
"Check on a…friend," Sylvia said with a grin.
They took Sato to an elevator, then used the biometric scanner to verify their identity as the Ruler of Discord. That opened up new commands, and Sylvia keyed in a destination.
"Woah, it goes down to sub level 8? I thought it stopped at two?" Sato said, peering at the control panel.
"Oh, yes. You'll see," Sylvia chuckled. Then they turned and drew Sato to themselves. Roughly, Sylvia pulled Kazuma's mouth to theirs, forcing in their tongue. At first, Sato was shocked and baffled, but then the pheromones and drugs Sylvia put into their saliva kicked in, and Sato moaned in pleasure, embracing Sylvia happily.
The carving Sylvia had done to themselves made their touch and taste highly addictive, enough that a single french kiss turned a man into a lifelong addict. Sylvia really would have to let Sena pleasure them a little later, or the poor dear would go into withdrawal soon. Sena was too useful to let her go to seed.
As for Sato, well…this was just an insurance policy. After five minutes in the elevator with Sylvia, the fool would do literally anything for the CEO, up to and including taking a bullet.
When the door's popped open, Sylvia straightened their hair as they pushed Sato back. "That's enough for now, pet. I can promise you more, later. If you serve me well, I'll relieve you of that embarrassing condition of yours."
"You'll cure my lactose intolerance?" Sato asked, sounding dazed and more than a little drugged.
Sylvia paused and frowned at him. Had that worked? It should have. "I mean your virginity."
"Oh. OH! Yes, boss! Right away!" Sato looked around eagerly at the sub level. It wasn't dark and dank, as one would expect of someone with no imagination like Beldia or Hans. Instead, it was brightly lit, with rows of large, spherical containers, each of them numbered. On the base of each container were various pipes and hoses with pressure valves on them, all humming with raw power that ran from the containment pods to various parts of the building, or even the lunar core.
Between the containers ran metal walkways suspended from the high ceiling on cables, all of them with the proper railings of course. The other CEOs might not believe in workplace safety, but Sylvia only wanted the underlings they personally killed to die, and not lose material to simple stupidity.
"We're looking for container 3R-1S," Sylvia said, nodding down the row. "You lead the way, Sato."
The man hurried forward down the walkway, glancing left and right. He found the container in short order, though Sylvia didn't stray from the elevator, their hand hovering over the emergency escape button. If containment was breached…
"I found it!" Sato called, out of Sylvia's line of sight.
"Good. Check the panel. What does it say?" Sylvia demanded.
"Says, um…let me see…Open Hatch, system check, purge system-"
"Run the system check and tell me what it says. Do not open the hatch or purge the pod," Sylvia ordered. If that happened…well, things could be recovered, but it would be disastrous. It wouldn't be the first time there was a leak, but…
"Uh…it says…all systems normal, containment secure," Sato answered.
Sylvia breathed a sigh of relief, and left the elevator, walking over to where Sato waited. The dope grinned widely at them, pointing to the panel. "Look boss, it's all green!"
Sylvia walked over and glanced at it, then put a hand on the metal liner on the outside. As always, a faint trace of energy, the very same stuff that was being sucked out of the pod and channeled to the core of the moon. But the occupant…
"Close your eyes," Sylvia ordered.
"Huh? Why should I-" Sato began
"Open your mouth and close your eyes, and I will give you a special surprise," Sylvia said in sing-song tones.
Sato did so, and Sylvia put a hand on his head to force him to his knees. Briefly they considered lifting their dress to really complete things, but instead Sylvia just absently stuck a finger in the boy's mouth. They needed to be on alert, not distracted by anything.
While Sato eagerly sucked on the finger that was feeding him a mild narcotic, Sylvia popped the hatch. Only a narrow viewing panel, but it should be enough. They peered inside briefly, wincing in pain at the light that poured out. Yes, it was all as it should be. Hastily Sylvia shut the panel, then removed their hand from Sato's mouth.
"Stand, pet."
"You taste…good," Sato mumbled, staggering to his feet.
"You've been a good pet," Sylvia said, touseling the messy hair. "I'm going to go check on a few things. You stay here. There's an emergency kit with food and water on the wall there, see it? Yes, help yourself to it, they're changed monthly so it's fresh."
"You're…you're gonna leave me here?" Sato said plaintively. "What about my bonus? And, um…the other thing?"
"Oh, I'll come back," Sylvia said in a husky voice. "If you're very good, I'll, well, remove the 'spear' so to speak, and let you become a real man."
"Really?" Sato gasped happily.
"Really," Sylvia promised. "But, if you've been bad…"
Sato whimpered and shied back.
"Oh, don't look at me that way. I take care of my pets, and I'm growing fond of you. If you've been bad, when I return, you'll drop your pants and bend over, and I'll still help you with that pesky virginity."
"I, um, I…" Sato blushed and looked away. "...I'll be good."
"Oh, I hope not. I rather like the second way," Sylvia laughed. Then bent down and kissed Sato deeply again. "Something to remember me by. I shan't be too long."
With that, Sylvia walked away, putting a little extra waggle in their hips. That leak had to be something else…something valuable. With their current resources, they couldn't restore Belzerg to the paradise they envisioned. But…if there was a new Source…that changed everything.
With a smile, Syliva stepped onto the elevator, and contacted Sena. She was a bit pent up, and so was Sato. Perhaps she'd let Sena play with Sato when they'd had their fill. Maybe Sylvia would even let them take turns on themselves. Once the new Source was secured, everything would change.
And Sylvia would become not just the CEO, but the Devil King they'd dreamed of being for centuries.
For half an hour after Sylvia left, Kazuma Sato paced back and forth, sweeting in nervous anticipation. To finally get laid, and lose the label of virgin loser forever! And by the flesh carver! Part of him dreaded the thought of being made into a bottom toy… but the rest…the rest wanted another hit of whatever high Sylvia had given him.
He broke down eventually and went and got the food. It was wrapped algae bars with protein filling. Not the most delicious, and only some water to drink, but it was free and filling, so Kazuma chowed down. He'd only been at this job for a week, and already he'd gotten the CEO's notice. He really was a hero or something after all.
"Pssst. Hey. Don't make any sudden moves."
Kazuma looked up from his snack to find a silver haired boy in a green jumpsuit, midriff exposed, a silver scarf wrapped around the lower half of his face so only purple eyes poked out.
"HEY!" Kazuma gasped, scooting back. "What are you-!?"
"I said don't move!" the stranger growled, and held up a gleaming silver revolver, the barrel pointed right at Kazuma.
He froze in mid crab crawl, sweat beading on his forehead.
"Just stay right there. That monster got their claws on you already," the stranger grumbled, coming forward. Kazuma winced as the revolver was pressed to his forehead, closing his eyes. "Now, if I can just…there."
A wave of cold washed over Kazuma, and he gasped, head spinning as a wave of cold fire ran through his veins and his vision swam. When it cleared, he felt clearer headed than he had in ages. He was no stranger to recreational drug use; ChimeraTech provided all sorts of chemical escapes for the employees at low prices. What better way to keep the population under control than to keep them too doped up to care? And that wasn't even getting into the flourishing illicit drug trade that even the corporations didn't want your average joe getting their hands on.
"What did…what did you?" Kazuma gasped, grabbing onto the guard rail to steady himself. He found hands helping him up, and blinked at the silver haired stranger, who had pulled down his scarf and was smiling at Kazuma.
"Nano-tech. Cleanses the toxins from your system in a hurry. It's a doozy, but you should be clear headed. How are you feeling?"
"I feel…great, actually," Kazuma admitted. He suddenly went pale. "Did Sylvia send you? I…oh sweet crypto. I was going to let them…to let them…"
The worst part of it was, even with the drugs gone, Kazuma was tempted to stay. Maybe his chastity would be violated, sure, but Sylvia treated their pets very well. A lifetime of luxury for a little buggery didn't sound too awful to a 20 year old who made his living scrubbing floors and cleaning bathrooms.
"Look, there's no time. I'm a thief. I'm here for a score. A huge one. You can stay here and be that monster's pet, or you can help me and get the biggest break of your life, and not have a single person who owns you," Silver Hair said quickly.
As they talked, Kazuma blinked. Those hips, and while it wasn't much, the breasts did swell…probably a femboy or a futa though. Swapping out your junk or getting hormones wasn't exactly hard on Discord.
"Hey, I like the sound of easy money, but I hate risk. No offense, pal, but I ain't helping you," Kazuma said, shaking his head.
The thief pursed their lips, then pointed to the large metallic sphere down the walkway and across from the 3R-1S pod Sylvia had inspected. This one read "4L-1C3" and was a little smaller, with the cables and hoses attached to it glowing much more faintly. "Tell you want. You peek inside, then you decide."
"I don't know what you-" Kazuma began, but the thief pushed him towards the container.
They took out a cloth, then dumped something into their hand. Kazuma blinked at seeing a little carved beast. It had the tail of a serpent, with the head of a lion and the torso of a woman, complete with little breasts and arms.
"What the hell is-" Kazuma asked, but the thief pressed the thing to the panel, and the security shield popped open. The thief keyed in a few commands, inserted the creature into a slot, then keyed in a few more. The hatch hissed open in a cloud of vapor, showing off the inside of the container.
"Look inside. Look inside, and tell me that you're willing to stay and be that thing's pet," the thief said grimly.
Kazuma did take a look, and he felt his heart go into his throat as he did so. Within the container was the frail form of a young girl, covered in a sheen of slime, her blonde hair plastered to her head. Hoses and wires connected to her face and back, and Kazuma had a sick feeling that he knew what was happening.
"This moon, this world, is built on lies and slavery," the thief said quietly. "The life you live? It's stolen. Stolen when there was no need, because it was once given freely. But now they can charge for it. That girl? She's been sucked dry since she was put in stasis, and after she dies another will take her place. You know what she is? Who is she?"
Kazuma shook his head mutely, unable to speak.
"Then I'll tell you what she is: Hope. We free her, and we can save this world," the thief said, clutching Kazuma's arm.
"I thought…I thought you said we'd be rich," Kazuma's voice rasped. "She's just…some orphan they kidnapped, and are sucking the life force out of to…power something. I mean, I've heard about soylent green, and the "Matrix" that Masked Media has tried setting up to generate power, but…"
"This is worse than all that. Far worse," the thief said quietly. "I could tell you more, but here's what's important: Will you let a little girl be held captive, sucked of her vitality, and used as a battery so a corporation can profit?"
"I…" Kazuma closed his eyes. "No. I…I'll help you. Even if there's no money in this…What do I need to do?"
The thief grinned. "I never thought you'd ask! We're going to do a little burglary and some mild sabotage and arson, along with some grand theft spaceship."
"Grand theft spaceship!? They'll kill us for that!" Kazuma gasped.
The thief shrugged. "Better to die on your feet than live on your knees, right?"
Kazuma scrubbed his hand through his hair. He desperately wanted to go home and smoke until he was so high he couldn't see straight, or go find Sylvia and let them have their way with him, or find a succubus and pay just enough for a dream that would wipe this all away.
Then the little girl inside the sphere whimpered and twitched slightly.
Kazuma turned to the thief. "Right. Let's get started on that burglary and sabotage."