GATE: the clash of the titans V2

by Qun Nguyn1

Mostly AUs. A Gate has opened in Tokyo by a Roman-esque Empire, familiar scenario with familiar faces but the people marched through the Gate is from a vastly more powerful magic world. The stage is set. Earth Alliance vs The Holy Empire. Science vs Magic. The power of the thousand sun vs The Beast of the Apocalypse. Let the clash of Titans begin. Let the worlds have War.

38. Chapter 40 : A Leap of Faith

Chapter 39: The War Continue

Note: Humans didn't give prisoners some super-secret information, just some basic stuff. The prisoners watched a lot of old war movies while reading high school textbooks.

---

Neo Tokyo, Kingdom of Japan, 2069

Surrounded by too many of foreign reporters for comfort, Itami waited at the airport terminal as people gawked from a distance. His eyes flicked to the overlooking windows and the waiting passengers pressed their faces against them. He was too exposed. A sniper would have no trouble setting up the shot. The general bustling of the people would provide the perfect cover for a potential assassin.

Finally, the private gate opened, and Rory Mercury stepped through, wearing a more traditional priestess dress. As exquisite as the first day he met her. She smiled softly at him, and he inclined his head, offering his arm. A light flashed in the distance, and he grit his teeth.

"It's okay, Yoji," she whispered. Her touch grounded him, reminding him where he was. "It's just a reporter."

"Shall we?" he asked and hurried her to the car. The secret agents fell into step behind them.

"Where are your servants?"

"I have a feeling they won't be of much use. There's no need to parade an easy target with extremists around." She tugged on his arm playfully, teasing.

"And where are yours?"

He grimaced. "At my villa. My son-in-law opened it up for our use. They've been spending the last week cleaning."

"That's generous of the Japanese Emperor," she said.

"Not really. He is trying to prove a point." He wasn't hiring more servants. "I already told them to ignore all the rooms except for ours."

She giggled, slipping into the back seat. The car attendant slammed the door shut. Now, they were somewhat safe, or more precisely, he was safe. It wasn't like Rory could be hurt. The car would hold for a precious few minutes, even against a tank attack.

The driver grumbled quietly before merging into the swarm of black cars.

"The Emperor is taking your security rather seriously."

"My last visit to the West Africa Republic landed me in the middle of a gun fight."

Her lips thinned, and she withdrew from the window. "Who was it?"

"They weren't after me," Itami assured her.

She snorted. "You truly have the worst luck."

"Don't you dare start as well."

"As well?" She raised an eyebrow.

Itami snorted. "My daughter made a chart."

"I've no idea how she became so superstitious. She's convinced something bad will happen because my trip to the Arabian Federated Republic was too quiet."

"If a simple visit to West Africa ended with you almost dying, I perhaps need to make you some protecting charms. Maybe an evil spirit is at fault."

"Don't," Itami begged. "If Shizuka finds out those are a thing..."

"Will I meet your grandchildren at your birthday party then?"

Itami grit his teeth. "Yes."

The seatbelt clicked and a sudden weight dropped on his legs.

Aghast, he stared at her as she looked up at him from his lap.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm tired," the apostle said petulantly.

The edges of his lips quirked upwards despite himself. "We're almost there. I promise you can sleep then."

True to his words, the car slowed to a stop, and he gently pulled her upright. One of his footmen rushed forward and opened the door. An agent stepped out first, his hand on his holster as he scanned for threats. Another agent joined him on the opposite side, framing the car door.

Itami offered Rory his hand as he stepped outside. The ground was freshly paved, any cracks recently sealed. In front of the door, the servants had lined up along the path, bowing deeply. He had surprised them earlier today by dropping in unannounced. They were clearly intent on making up for the breach in decorum.

"Welcome, Prime Minister," the housekeeper, said dutifully.

The steward straightened first. "It is a pleasure to receive you, Prime Minister, properly this time. We have prepared the master suite for you-"

"No." Itami scowled. "I already said I would be taking one of the adjoining guest rooms."

"But, Prime Minister-"

He brushed past him. "I will take care of it myself. Back to work!"

Climbing the stairs after half remembered floor plans, he found the guest quarters. The rooms here were smaller, less grand. A smaller kitchen served the wing, intended for late night snacks. It would be adequate for his needs. While Rory had lived on the best that the Empire could offer, she wouldn't begrudge him for offering less.

At random, he chose a door. Surprisingly, the guest chambers had already been cleaned out. A small sitting room connected two bedrooms.

Stretching her arms, Rory inspected the cabinets. "Let's watch something!"

"I thought you were tired?"

"Would you even be able to sleep? It's a new place." She found the remote and held it up victoriously as the TV slowly extended out of the cabinet. "Come on. Let's watch something ridiculously stupid and complain about it until we pass out."

"Rory," he tried again but eventually gave in.

The TV hissed aimlessly as Rory entered a channel number. They both quieted down as they quickly took notice of the program running on the screen.

A beautiful Kitsune wearing a red dress introduced herself in front of a large, mostly empty field.

"Welcome back to the Imperial News Network, where we pride ourselves at providing you news almost as fast as news happens!

I'm Esaan Floren, reporting from Stonehenge Site, Netherworld.

The recent terrorist attack on Stonehenge Hellguard Turret Network marked a dangerous escalation of violent in Netherworld. Four of the railgun turrets destroyed, over 20 personnel wounded. This is a turning point in the balance of power between the living, the dead and the demons.

President Abigor of the Dis Confederation and First Consul Charles Zi Augustus of the Zen Ascendancy, together with other heads of states have met in a virtual summit to find ways to calm rising tensions between the demons and the dead...

On other news…Barbarians at the gates, is our holy way of life in danger !?

Now with the dark goblin migrant caravan a mere 3 000 miles from the Gate of Mordor, we need to ask the question. Are these dark goblins just desperate refugees in need or are they filthy uncivilized invaders ready to plunge our beautiful world into a dark age of depraved criminality sexual violence and cannibalism.

The answer may surprise you, coming up next after the break."

The terrorist attack on the Stonehenge Hellguard Turret Network had serious geopolitical consequences, with Earth accusing the Empire's covert ops had been mixing with the undead terrorist to harry their security units and provided the needed explosives to carry out the attack. The Earth-Falmart Cold War had entered a dangerous phase.

This was why Rory was here in Japan. To defuse the situation. The nation of man was pissed and Rory could understand why.

The Hellguard Turret Network, better known as Stonehenge, resembles the ancient prehistoric monument from which it drew its name.

The Network consisted of eight sectors arranged in a circular formation, each housing a single railgun turret.

Officially designated "1200 mm anti air and surface, gunpowder and electromagnetic hybrid acceleration based, semi automatic fixed gun system", the turrets were in fact not true railguns, but rather "electromagnetic launchers", due to the combination of the propellants it utilized.

This hybrid design was selected to prevent excess heat from warping the barrels, an absolute necessity as its projectiles were to be launched at a velocity of sixty kilometers a second - roughly 180 times the speed of sound.

Control of the turrets was directed by a synthesized network located underground beneath the main circular ring. It housed 8192 supercomputers, split into 1024 sets of eight, each capable of performing nine quadrillion floating point arithmetic operations per second.

Together, Stonehenge as a whole was capable of 100 quintillion operations per second, based on data collected from observatories, weather models, and other methods of obtaining information on atmospheric conditions.

In the event this control network failed, each cannon also had a range table, although its ability to attack intercontinentally without a computerized fire-control system was negligible.

With each turret in operation, Stonehenge had an effective range of 27,000 kilometers, spanning the entire Netherworld. It could fire a wide array of specially designed ammunition, though the use of several types was restricted except in special cases under international treaties.

The development of Stonehenge was amongst the largest engineering projects ever attempted, requiring a central executive committee with over 28 different design departments. It was a true international effort, involving not only the nations of Europe, but dozens across the world.

The main site was completed in June of 2031, though the railguns would be delivered only gradually throughout the next few months. The first test firing occurred in September that same year.

---

Ziaphoria Empire's Colony, Tyran III, 2030

One Shadow – Kuremisago Senzui, shifted his position on the venomous leaves and steadied his binoculars on the great metallic black tower concealed in the great canyon. "Your Holiness Sika Madu, the Eight Shining Executioner Blades have located the Altana veins."

"Very Good! Send the Nine Fists to the designated locations and wait for my command. They will act in coordination with the Eight Shining Executioner Blades." The Apostle of Creation and Destruction waved aimlessly at the man, dismissing him.

"Yes, M'Lord."

Senzui disappeared in a blink of an eye - Flying Thunder God Technique. As expected from the leader of One Shadow Nine Fists and the Head of the Dark Osprey Ninja Clan.

Everything was moving according to plan. His team was split in two parts, the Eight Shining Executioner Blades would destroy the Altana veins, while the One Shadow Nine Fists would create distraction by attacking the Hive Lords themselves. Once these Altana veins powering the Pylon were destroyed, all he had to do next was eliminate Titanius Arghus and steal the Arachnid Pylon.

Observing the area of operation using a bird's-eye view, Sika Madu had to admit that he was quite surprised that the Emperor was able to invite these legendary martial artists to join this interstellar heist.

In the world of combat magic and martial arts, The Thirteen Apostle and The Holy Seven are undoubtedly the most powerful but just beneath them, there are hundreds of other powerful bands. The most renowned of them all on the light side is the Twelve Knights of The Round Table and on the dark side is the Eighteen Yami Lords.

Yami was created after the Great Unification War to keep the old arts alive because many martial artists died during the war. Its members seem to anticipate an event known as the Eternal Setting Sun, which seemingly intends to create a new World War so that their skills will not "rot away in these times of peace".

Yami is divided into two divisions: the Hand-to-Hand Combat Division and Weapons Division. The former two divisions normally work separately and are led by two completely different units but recently have joined forces to fight the Earth invader and claiming the title of "Strongest in History"

The One Shadow Nine Fists are the ten most powerful unarmed combatants of Yami and the leaders of the Hand-to-Hand Division of the organization, with the One Shadow also being the overall leader of Yami. Each member is a master of a different martial art and promotes 'Fist of Killing' as their belief of what true Martial Arts are meant for.

The Eight Shining Executioner Blades is a special group in Yami's Armed Division and is considered to be the Armed Division's equivalent to the One Shadow Nine Fists. Their strength is on par with the One Shadow Nine Fists. Their leader, Ōganosuke Yogi, is said to be an invincible superman, a legend, and one of the few fighters in the martial arts world who is considered to be on par with a demi-god.

XXXXXXXXXX

Hiding in a miasma of decay, there were two men patiently awaited for their orders. The one on the left, the well-dressed man with long wavy dark hair down to his shoulders and an executioner's sword at his waist, was Edeltraft von Schiller alias The Performer of the Armistice. The one on the right, an imposing man clad in dark blue, seemingly "kimono-like" attire, was the Legendary Master Oganosuke Yogi. He wielded two distinct swords. One is a black katana, and the other is a white wakizashi. Thus the alias The Lord of the Two Skies.

From their position, they could see the ground was ravaged by giant insects, infested with twisted slugs, centipedes and thousands of other creatures that defy imagination. Not just that, the very air itself was alive with glowing spores and enormous clouds of black flies. And in the middle of this monstrous landscape was the Altana vein to the east that looked like a giant tendril emitting green light.

"How many?" Oganosuke Yogi crawled up to the observation position. At a close distance, he looked even more imposing. The man was incredibly muscular, with his muscles being visible through his clothing, and they in fact fill out the usually loose style of clothing he wears.

"Based on pheromone levels, the opposing force is estimated to be around 60,000 biological units and increasing. I spotted at least 100 plasma arachnids, 500 tanker arachnids, 20,000 warrior arachnids, the rest are probably hopper arachnids. They're the dangerous ones, not much firepower but they can get at us and our ability to bring them down in droves is limited." Edeltraft von Schiller caught the fleeting smirk on the face of the Legendary Oganosuke.

Oh, the old warrior thrilled about the prospect of the upcoming battle against the enemy with overwhelming numbers. There was a rumor that Oganosuke took on 1500 martial artists at once and was extremely reckless in his youth and violent to boot, to the point where he deliberately spilled tea over a relaxing apostle head just to goad him into fighting. Looks like the rumors were true.

"It doesn't matter, 60 thousand or 600 thousand, my 'Shinken Nehan Mekkai Mandara - True Sword Nirvana World Destroyer Mandala.' will cut them down like leaves." Looking down at the hideous arachnids swarm, he boasted. His voice radiated absolute confidence.

"Of course, Lord Yogi!"

Edeltraft had no doubt the old Oganosuke could do what he said for he was the most powerful mortal swordsman in history. A walking-natural-disaster who could challenge the demi-gods.

This was indeed a good time for Yami, the Emperor had promised them great battles in the future where they could exert their martial arts skills to the fullest. This was always what they wanted, for the world to be engulfed by war so that the martial artists could become the center of the world again. For too long the world had forgot, what it was to be a true fighter. The times and scenery might change but at long as wars are started by men it shall be men who determine their outcome.

Edeltraft flipped on his magicom for transmission to HQ. "Ruler Omega, Saber Gamma Here. There is an increase in the number of guards around objective D-3. The current number is estimated at about 60 thousand combat units. The bugs seem to have sensed something and increased their vigilance."

The message went out and a few seconds later his magicom came alive again. "Saber Gamma, this is Ruler Omega. Be advised your earlier message is confirmed. Saber Alpha, Saber Beta and Saber Delta all report that the enemy have strengthened their safeguard measures around the target areas. We are setting up new extraction points now. Wait for order, Over."

"Confirmed. Wait." The radio went silent for a couple of minutes.

"Saber Gamma. Berserker One through Ten have reached their targets. Prepare to strike. Synchronize your attack 5 minutes from now." The magicom went dead again.

"Order Confirmed."

"Lord Yogi. We have received the order to attack in 5 minutes." Edeltraft relayed the order back to Oganosuke.

"The long winter in which we resigned in the darkness of this era is finally over. Let there be light to our blade!" Oganosuke unsheathed his blades, his eyes lit up with fire.

Without further due, Oganosuke jumped into the sky in a burst of speed then unleashed a spinning downward slash that created a gigantic dragon-shape shock wave towards the ground.

"Emperor Dragon Secret Technique - Death Disturbing Slash."

The dragon-shape shock wave traveled at great speed towards the Altana vein. The attack caused a massive explosion so powerful that it literally cleared the sky of clouds, killing tens of thousands of giant arachnids in the process. The end result was a large crater hundreds of meters wide on the battlefield.

The surviving plasma arachnids unleashed a barrage of superheated plasma balls towards the Legendary Oganosuke. Hoping to overwhelm their enemy with numbers.

Seeing the coming attacks, Yogi got into a squatting stance and then directed both his swords to the right with the daisho over the katana and then made a vertical spinning jump and slashed all around him.

"Great World of Slashing - Silver Apricot-Tree Fence Slash."

The powerful technique cut through everything in its path with so much destructive force that it imitated the destructive power of a hurricane. All the surviving arachnids in the area were minced into pieces of green and yellow.

"Too easy!" Landing back onto the ground, Yogi proclaimed.

To the arachnids that watched, this swordsman fought like Death himself. He wove in and out of sight in a swirling carnage, but he was easy to pick out. An aura of green brutality seemed to surround him as he slashed each of his foes so hard that limbs, heads and claws flew in bloody arcs all around him.

"Secret Sword Technique - Diagonal Cross Gate Opening Slash." The man shouted and his Ki moved like some elemental destructive force, a wave of destruction annihilating his enemies.

Oganosuke blades spat death with every swing, his Ki sliced multiple foes in half. Every motion, from his elbow backswing to the stump of his iron feet, cracked the shell like armor of the arachnids and sent more to fall, threshing their dead body through the bloodstream ground.

And then, the unbelievable happened.

The bloody strewn landscape under Yogi's feet seemed to buckle and bulge upward then the swordsman was gone.

A Mawloc, a huge worm-like creature that acts as an outrider to the Arachnid swarm, was the reason for the disappearance. Bursting from below and as its bulk breached the surface, the creature coiled about itself like some hideous constricted serpent. This was the largest of such creatures that any of the falmartian warriors had ever seen. The deadliest spawn of its kind that had ever slithered underground or was seen by the light of any sound.

The triumphal scream that burst from the beast's gaping maw twisted metal and made arachnids miles away to fall, covering their ears.

Even before the screech of victory was over. Something had gone wrong!

"Yogi Shell Breaking Long Sword."

The Mawloc flopped its huge body so hard it seemed that the world itself trembled then the beast quivered, withering and convulsions, twisting its mighty coils in arcing loops.

An unnatural bulge formed from its midsection, and then propelled by a powerful blast, an explosion widened the hole between the slime-covered entrails.

From the hole, out stepped Yogi Oganosuke. Striding out the very belly of the beast.

"ARHHHHHHHHH!"

The mightiest of the swordsmen roared his victory to the sky.

This became a rallying cry to his comrades nearby and a challenge to all that lived.

XXXXXXXXXX

"All teams, report your status."

"Ruler Omega... Team Seitaro Raigo and Rin Tachibana here, we are engaging multiple enemies.

"Team Mihai Știrbey and Mildred Lawrence here, we are engaging the bugs."

"Team Marmaduke Brown and Raki Hoshinano here, we're fighting too."

"Team Edeltraft von Schiller and Oganosuke Yogi here, strategy complete."

"Team Alexander Gaidar and Akira Hongo here, mission accomplished."

"Team Agaard Jum Sai and Cyril Rahman here, targets annihilated."

"Team Diego Carlo and Isshinsai Ogata here, targets eliminated."

"Team Sogetsu Ma and Senzui Kuremisago here, targets eradicated."

"Team Mikumo Kushinada and Silkwat Jenazad here, we are on standby."

"Very good!" Raising the edge of his lips, Sika Madu was pleased with the might and efficacy of his strike teams. One Shadow Nine Fists and Eight Shining Executioner Blades. They truly deserved the title they preach.

"The Gods of Martial Arts."

"What a waste!" Sika shook his head. "Yami could have been a respectable organization and they would have easily become the hero of the empire if it weren't for their radical ideology."

"This is not the time for such thoughts, he needs to do his part and show the world why he is the strongest."

Sika jumped down to the ground, but no bugs dared to make a move as his immeasurable mana dominated the space. The hardened gazes of the arachnids all just followed his movements silently without making a sound.

The old Apostle held both his hands together before speaking, ''I require some space,'' that was all the warning he gave.

''Wind God Titan Explosion!''

The surrounding arachnids quickly fled from all areas. It was just one spell, one powerful incantation. In a manner of speaking, it was similar to a "Gravity Sphere". Sika had developed the spell after he had battled the demi-god Mortar Mobkis.

Depending on the amount of mana he put behind the spell, it could just be as disastrous as a "Gravity Sphere" but its scale of destruction was a little low, depending on the strength of wind blowing around the atmosphere.

In the release of the spell, an explosion occurred around him and spread in all directions destroying everything that stood in the way.

What made it dangerous was that it was mainly made up of hundreds of thousands sharp wind blades that were capable of shredding anything. The destructive power of the wind blades was enough to cut a tank in half.

Every tree within a 600 m radius disappeared in a flash, leaving a barren ground with Sika Madu standing tall in the middle, not minding the small amount of dust that was still settling down.

After a few seconds passed, every arachnid, large and small, reappeared one by one.

Sika showed them a cold smile.

Then, a massive wave of mana exploded, forcing every bug to step back a little and cover their eyes, shielding them from the debris that had picked up. The mana he'd released was rather frightening, but they were prepared for it. If they weren't, they would have hit the ground just by seeing that small power up.

The Tanker arachnids were first to attack. They unleashed a flood of acid that sped down towards the winged apostle at high speed, trying to slam him down the ground and melt him. Hundreds of Mawlocs also charged from the ground, moving towards Sika.

Sika merely smiled as both attacks engulfed him, for a moment that is. Everything was blown away from him by pure wind, sending chunks of earth all over the terrain. Sika then hit the ground, unharmed.

''I expect better from you oversized insects.''

His smug grin was interrupted by a bright flash of white light and then a monstrous explosion that reshaped the landscape.

It was as if a sword had fallen from the heavens and split apart the earth.

What was incredible about this was that it was nothing more than a giant mass of H2O, aka water, moving at 38,000 kph or about 31 times the speed of sound.

The word "intense" did not do its speed and pressure justice. An overwhelming explosion of steam occurred directly above the impact point and a circular shockwave covered everything.

This was no different from spraying a hose at a line of ants on the ground, but this was actually happening. A massive wall of dust gave the shockwave visual form and it knocked over the conifer trees at four or five times the speed of sound.

The wall of liquid and steam had transformed into a ferocious wall of heat. The thick layer of miasma disappeared in an instant and the exposed ground was heated to orange.

The surface of the crater was completely covered in translucent glass. Glass and porcelain were normally made of silicon, so it could be made by harshly heating sand or dirt.

Even if it made sense from a rational standpoint, the scenery still looked like a completely different world.

Turning his gaze upward, Sika saw the culprit as it cast a giant shadow over him.

Titanius Arghus - The Sky Behemoth.

Looming a full 1200 meters in height and weighing 15 million tons, it was a veritable study in alienness. Its cuticle-covered body was an intricate collection of ridges, folds and curves, flanged and wrinkled so as to almost defy description.

Here a pair of moisture-dampened openings quivered and flared, while behind float-bladders pulsed and expanded with inrushing air.

A web of glowing biolights surrounded a small pair of recessed infrared pits.

Two swinging, orange sonarbooms stretched from beneath enormous, overhanging fins.

Above them, a pair of gyrating balance organs oscillated in a blur of constant movement.

Surmounting the forward, vertical portion of the organism's body was a great translucent bladder that seemed to be its principal organ of buoyancy.

Running throughout this vast sagittal sac was a fine tracery of veins, delicately backlit by the glowing clouds behind.

But most remarkable of all, two muscular arms, terminating in dextrous-looking hands, hung from the creature's sides.

In disbelief, Sika stared at the giant water cannon that the creature carried. It was botanic in origin, and gave the appearance of having been gnawed into shape.

"You're a really big insect, aren't you!"

Not letting Sika a moment to rest, other arachnids attacked him in waves.

Sika whispered as he raised his left hand. In an instant, the space above him began to distort. From there, an object with the figure of an enormous sphere manifested. At the same moment, Sika called out the name.

"Death of All Creation ."

Wave-like ripples emerged on the smooth surface of the sphere floating in the air, gradually changing the shape. In this manner-resembling a blooming bud. A huge flower with numerous overlapping petals.

In the center, there was the figure of a young girl praying. A breathtakingly solemn and beautiful sight.

However, the moment the arachnids saw it, the tremors spreading through their body would not stop. Instinctive fear. The intuition of despair. That thing was the shape of "death" itself.

"Bloom." The moment Sika issued that command.

"Death" was scattered around.

The warrior arachnids and plasma arachnids, even the massive tanker arachnids, anything that came into contact with the particles either lost their lives or stopped functioning, crumbling away like sugary confectionery. Even the ones hidden deep underground weren't spared.

"It's no use! The light can't be countered by any defense regardless of the durability and the composition of it. Even things that have no life can be killed by imposing "death" on them. It reduces everything to zero in a blink of an eye. In short, a light of absolute death."

Not giving up, an army of Zoanthropes prepared a massive psychic attack from a distance. From above, Titanius Arghus prepared another water blast attack.

"Samsara of Paradise." Sika raised his hand as he called out that name.

At that moment, the earth trembled as a huge spire emerged from behind Sika. With an inorganic surface resembling glass, the branches and cluster of leaves spread out to the open sky. From a vertical slit in the trunk, an apparition resembling a girl was seen,

That's right; it's appearance-resembled an enormous tree that pierced the heavens.

At the center, the roots of the tree began to stretch, changing the surrounding scenery in the process. A monochrome world of black and white, the ground as neatly divided into blocklike steps as if having been precisely divided up by grid paper; even the jet-black sky casted an ominous gaze upon the ground. The amount of detail of the world was compressed to the limit, truly a minimalist scene.

The Zoanthropes tried to launch their attack but all the psychic energy they had accumulated was gone. Even the water blast from Titanius Arghus was erased from existence.

"Too late! This is my world. Everything, all logic, all natural laws are different from the world you know. In my world, attacking me has become impossible. Just like how human cannot survive underwater or apples falling from trees cannot disappear into the sky."

Looking up, Sika showed a cold smile. "Your turn, Big Boy," Sika raised his right hand. "Void Zero." He recited.

In moments.

Light filled the entire world.

And Titanius Arghus - The 1200-meter-long Sky Behemoth was erased from existence. Not blown to another place, nor killed but rather vanished into nothingness. The spell Void Zero ignores all laws and eradicates the target completely. This is why Sika Madu is the strongest among the apostles.

With all his enemies eradicated, Sika Madu clapped his hands together.

Several blue magic circles surrounded him, he took out an item, an hourglass made of cut crystal to speed up the spell's activation from 5 minutes to immediately, it was a divine spell.

"Bifrost Gate."

The moment he said that, a great rainbow beam descended from the sky towards Arachnid Pylon, bathing the black metallic tower in its heavenly light and teleporting it away.

"Mission accomplished."

---

Council Chamber, Yamantau, Greater Russian Union

"There is a major problem coming up, one that I believe this Council must address."

The speaker looked around at the fifteen council members. Not all were physically present, but those that weren't were on great view screens that lined the walls. Whether present as flesh-and-blood or electronic imagery, they all nodded.

"Proceed."

Doctor Samuel drew breath to deliver the bad news. "We have an impending energy crunch. The fact is that with what amounts to every army in the world fully mobilized and conducting military operations, they're burning a mass of diesel fuel. It doesn't matter whether its peace-keeping operations in the Netherworld or the war that's about to restart in Lemuria, they all cost fuel. It doesn't end there. Every factory on Earth is running flat out on triple-shifts, those that can are producing munitions add those that can't are making up for the facilities that have been converted to war production."

"We can't change that. We're still replacing the munitions we expended in the Hell War."

"I know, but it takes energy and that means fuel. We're shifting to nuclear power as fast as we can, but rebuilding the infrastructure takes time and building the plans takes more energy. We're behind the curve and that situation is becoming terminal.

Put simply, we've been pumping and refining oil so fast, we're damaging the fields and the refineries are in desperate need of repair and renovation. Refinery capacity was critical before the war started, now it's far beyond that. We need more refineries and more oil resources.

The former we can build if we're given the go-ahead, but actually finding more oil reserves. Well, to give you an idea, the current levels of unexploited oil reserves are higher than at any time in recorded history, the figures are in Platt's Oilgram, but they're still not enough."

"There may be a solution to this." The spotlights switched to another figure standing in front of the great horseshoe of desks. "I'm Coogler, one of the geologists working in Netherworld. Do you all recognize this?"

He held up a bottle containing a black solid. The Council looked at it, shaking their heads.

"Well, you've all heard of the Lava River in the Netherworld. The one we're pulling our dead out of. Well, that was always a bit odd because if it was real lava, there wouldn't be any bodies. They'd be flash-vaporized. So, we had a closer look at that river and it turns out, it wasn't lava at all. It's a mix of what amounts to a very heavy crude oil with extremely light fractions. It's really strange from a geological point of view, in some ways, it's a bit like shale oil but don't push that comparison too far.

"Human crude is a mixture of fractions as well, some heavy, some light, some in between. Netherworld crude has nothing in between, it's all either very light or very heavy. When it comes out of the ground, the light factions vaporize and burn, giving the appearance of a river of fire.

"So, the injuries our dead received are a mix of the burns from the hot, plasticized crude, that runs at around sixty to seventy degrees Celsius by the way, and the burning gasses above it.

Now, if we can trap and channel that stream at source, we can recover the light fractions for use as natural gas while we can build refineries in Netherworld to crack the super-heavy fraction and give us everything else we need.

Or we can build the refineries here on Earth. But, given the volume coming out of the Lava River, there must be a lot of this stuff in Netherworld, the whole place is probably oil-rich."

Putin nodded and there was a whispered exchange between the members of the council, those present on the screens giving their contribution by means of earpieces worn by the members.

Eventually, Putin banged his gavel on the table. "Engineer Coogler, get together with Doctor Samuel and thrash out a scheme to exploit these new resources. Take whatever technical staff you need, the very fine men at Rosneft and Gazprom will gladly assist you."

Italica Base, Lemuria, Falmart

As her cavalry followed her to the entrance to Hardy Gate, Pina marveled at the magnificent structure that stood above all things even after seeing it many times.

The sheer size of the gate provided a cool shadow, blocking out the sun for a moment of glory. This was the pinnacle of imperial magic, a system of magical portals that could teleport soldiers or objects in bulk. These magical portals allowed the user to cover great distances in the blink of an eye. They were built to be extremely fast and efficient means of transportation, and could also be used in combat when the situation called for quick action.

The gate loomed over her, its entrance merely a void that swallowed all light. It seemed to bring with it the heat of the afternoon, sending a chill down Pina's spine.

Pina stared into the void and felt a mixture of excitement and fear swirling around her gut. With a deep breath, she lightly kicked her horse's side, urging the animal through the entrance. She needed to get to Sadera fast, and this was the only way.

The moment she passed through the entrance, the merciless heat of the sun disappeared, replaced by a bone-chilling cold. Some of the Knights began to light their magic torches as the cold began to creep into their bones.

The lights of those torches brought little comfort to the Rose Knights, however, as they showed the void that surrounded them. For a void was the only way she could describe what was around her.

All around her cavalry was darkness, their horses galloping through the air as they galloped forward. Despite the lack of road or even solid ground, the horses continued their trot speed, each Rose Knight guiding the animal where instinct failed.

There was no sound in the void, and with each noise they made, Pina felt more and more uneasy. To her, it seemed like she was entering a realm that mortals had no right to enter.

The air was suffocating and stagnant on her tongue, and each breath made a sharp pain in her chest. The longer she stayed here, a certain stench began to hit her nose.

"There's something rotting here. But we're here alone, what's causing that smell?" She thought to herself, tightening her grip on the reins.

"Your Highness! Behind us!" She heard Hamilton scream.

Turning around in her red saddle, Pina glanced behind them for a glimpse of the gate they came, only to find that it was gone, trapping them completely inside the void.

All around them echoed the sounds of grinding stone as if the gate itself was collapsing on top of them. The shadows, once little more than a formless void, were beginning to take shape.

Out of the shadows came an army of wraiths, their heraldry lost to the darkness while their shrunken, gaunt faces glared into the eyes of the living. Spectral towers emerged seemingly from nowhere, their sentries staring at them with unblinking eyes.

Surrounding this vast legion came a sea of wretched things, their skin like smoke with translucent rags hanging off their carcasses. Each one moaned curses out of gaping maws, their skeletal hands reaching towards the light.

"By the 13 Gods…" Pina breathed, her horse nervously pacing about as the stench of death invaded its nose.

With every breath, the host of spirits drew closer all around them. The air was rapidly filling with their blood-curdling hissing and chilling moans. The few torches that once brought warmth and light did little to ward off the nightmares in front of the grandly armoured knights.

The chorus of a thousand bells suddenly rang into the void, each one a different pitch, and each one sorrowful. As those mighty tones entered Pina's ears, she felt a chill run up her spine. Countless visions began, unbidden to play out in her mind, none of them kind. Each one was a possible death, be it slaughtered on the battlefield, her flesh picked apart by scavengers. Or was it tortured in an enemy's dungeon, her body and mind little more than screaming meat. But the most shameful was being left to rot in a brothel's back alley, her entire being spent to nothing.

Each moment of these horrific scenes played out, details burning into her mind. Despite her horror, she saw them all. She could taste the blood on her lips, her limbs growing numb, and tears were beginning to fall down her cheeks.

"Princess, what do we do?" Hamilton, her aide asked as she violently shook in her saddle.

Pina glanced over to her Rose Knights and found that all of them were affected similarly to how she was. Some had gone pale, staring at nothing, while others had drawn their weapons and swiped at the air. With each chime of the bells, the ghostly host howled, their wails being just as horrific as the visions. With a deep breath, Pina turned to her aid.

"We keep moving, there must be a way out of here. Our armies marched through this void, and I'll be damned if we can't do the same!" She exclaimed, snatching the standard out of Hamilton's hands and waving it above her head. "To Hardy's realm and beyond, my sisters! That's my promise to the Emperor, so don't you dare make a liar out of me!" She bellowed with a sneer on her face as she gazed at the brilliant heraldry that she held above her head.

For a moment, her Knights of her did nothing, staring at her with glassy eyes. Then, one by one, they began to draw their lances. The newest members pulled out horns and flutes, striking up a rowdy cry that was picked up by the light cavalry. Many more began to sing praises to Emroy, that the God of War would bless their blades, to Duncan, that God of Smiths would watch over their suit of armor.

The Rose Knights began to form into several wedge formations, their lances and heavy armor glinting in the ever-dimming torchlight. Many smiled with half-mad grins as they stared at the horror in front of them. Some told jokes to spite their fear, and their laughter was an odd addition to the cacophony around them. With one hand clutching the standard and the other holding a beautifully decorated sword, Pina Co Lala, The 5th Princess of Sadera, charged at the enemy.

The sounds of those hideous bells filled the sky, while the army of specters sluggishly formed their ranks. Shields slammed down onto the non-existent ground, while ghostly spears were held in skeletal hands. All around the Rose Knights came to the hissing battle cries of the dead, those wretched souls trampling each other in their mad pell-mell to smother the light. Such a sight was horrific to behold, but it merely drove those gallant cavaliers onwards towards the foe.

"The only way out of this is straight ahead! Let them have it!" Pina bellowed, waving the standard feverishly as her Knights bellowed out their final praises to the Gods. The closer she got to the foe, the time seemed to slow to a crawl. Pina felt as if she could make out every minute detail of her enemy of her. Their translucent faces, their grinning skulls, everything down to the shimmering armour.

The moment of impact was unlike anything Pina expected. Instead of over a ton of armour, horse and rider crushing flesh and blood, she felt nothing. Her Rose Knights slammed straight through their unliving enemies, their lances punching through nothing while hooves slammed against the floor. Their momentum carried them forwards, even as the dead continued to chase them. Those legions of ghosts that the cavalry had slammed through reformed as if nothing had happened. Their shields locked together in testudo formations and they slowly began following their attackers.

"Keep moving!" Pina yelled, urging her horse to even greater speeds, even as the faithful steed panted and frothed at her mouth.

Her horse barreled through the void, the sounds of their foes never leaving their ears. It didn't matter how far they galloped, those horrid bells still filled the empty sky. The longer they surrounded, the larger the void became. It was entirely flat, with no hills, valleys, or even rocks to guide them.

"Princess, we must rest! The horses can't take much more!" Knight of Eight Grey Co Aldo shouted over the din of the bells and thundering cavalry. His stern features were tired and worn, while his horse's eyes were rolling in their sockets.

"Just a little longer! We can't let them catch us!" She yelled back, the din of horns and bells was almost deafening.

The cavalry continued their endless ride, the darkness growing thick as oil as the torches slowly died. Those horrid bells slowly began to fade away, leaving only the sounds of grunting horses and clattering hooves. How long they rode, Pina didn't know, but when she felt her horse's legs trembling under their weight, she called for a rest. Beasts and knights alike sighed with relief as the former was given what little water could be spared.

The knights began lighting more torches, each woman marching in formations as they clutched their blades. The veteran men tended to the horses, doing what they could to calm them down. Tents were quickly set up, their occupants sleeping lightly in case their enemies found them. Pina herself stood in the middle of her tent, the torches outside giving her little light.

"Where are we?" She asked aloud, sipping from the wineskin whose contents had long grown warm.

"That's a complicated question, Princess of Sadera." A voice hissed from behind her, a voice that sent chills down Pina's spine.

Even before the intruder finished speaking, Pina turned around and pulled her holy sword from its scabbard. Her glowing blade had settled on the intruder's cheek, keeping her still, even as a calm smile crept across her face. Because it was a woman standing in front of her, a person with long white hair with gray eyes.

"What the hell are you?" Pina said with a taunt, her holy blade slowly pressed against the intruder's cheek. Even so, not a single drop of blood fell on Pina's peerless blade.

"Come on girl, where's the fun in telling you that?" The intruder said with a sly grin, those strange blue eyes deep into hers.

"What can stop me from crucifying you and dragging you with us through this hell? If you want to have fun, I'll gladly oblige." The crimson haired princess replied, quickly putting on a smirk even as her stomach churned.

"As much fun as that would be, I have a feeling that you have more important things to deal with than myself."

As if to prove her point, those horrible groans began to resound again, faint but still audible. "You and your Knights seem very interesting, I couldn't help but come see what the fuss was all about. Honestly, I'm quite impressed. The intruder said with a smile.

"A group of women pushing against their stagnant society, eager for approval even as their menfolk sharpen their blades. Oh, what a story this is!"

"I'm so glad we're fascinating to you, but you're going to tell me how to get out of here."

"Or what? You'll chop off my head? I'm unarmed and alone, is that how a royal treats others ?" The intruder said with a smug grin on her face.

"Regardless, you're stuck here with me, and your royal blood is meaningless to them. If they get their hands on you…. I fear what will become of your soul." The intruder's voice dripped with chilling joy that sent chills down the Princess' spine.

"And what do you know of souls, strangers ? The God of War Emroy will welcome me into his hall if I fall."

"Not if you're stuck in the underworld, this is Hardy's kingdom. Anything that dies here belongs to her."

"And how do you know that?"

"You still haven't figured it out? And here I was thinking you're a smart member of your family." She said with a cruel laugh, the tip of Pina's sword cut the flesh even more.

Just like before, no blood touched her blade. The intruder took a step toward Pina, the blue blade cutting deeper and deeper into her face.

Within a breath, the intruder had nearly gouged her jaw, her gaze peering into Pina's soul. With a hideous click as an attempt to amuse, the intruder spoke.

"You know who I am, daughter of Sadera. I am She who rules over death, I am She who commands the Legion of Bones. Kings and peasants alike pray that I turn my eye from them, and it is I who reaps the aged upon mortal life. I am Hardy, Goddess of Death, Queen of the Underworld, and your new master." As the Goddess spoke, her body faded away into shadow, reforming right in front of Pina, a smug smile on her face.

Pina gaped at the Goddess in front of her, dropping to her knees as quickly as she could, her blade falling on the ground.

The longer she knelt before the Goddess, Pina felt her limbs going numb as if her body was shutting down in the mere presence of this deity. The mere act of forcing her head upwards to stare at Hardy's face felt momentous. Her lungs burned, and her body was wracked with chills as she locked eyes with the Goddess.

Even as her mouth felt like a block of marble, Pina forced herself to speak. "It is the greatest honour to be in your presence, Lady Hardy. How may I, and my Rose Knights, be of service to you?"

For a brief moment, the Goddess said nothing, that smug smile never leaving her face. With a small chuckle, Hardy waved her hand through the air, casting a cloud of smoke in the air. It swirled before Pina's eyes, shifting around until it formed a structure.

It was a large collection of immense violet crystals, arranged in an ominous circle. Despite the simplicity, Pina couldn't help but marvel at it.

It held that modest grandeur that those ancient forests held, from which it was said that the trees were alive. Despite these crystals being made of smoke, the Princess couldn't help but feel that a faint humming was rising out of those ancient crystals.

"What is this? I've read about many supernatural structures but I've never seen anything like this before." She said, putting a hand on her chin, feeling a faint sense of excitement despite the situation.

"This is The Tomb of Skarbrand, and it is older than all of Falmart's kingdom put together." The Goddess's voice was dripping with avarice as if she wanted it for herself.

Skarbrand, the Drinker of Blood, the Wrathful Reaper, but above all, the Exiled One.

Bloodthirsters are the greatest demons of Khorne, burning shards of their masters' hatred, strength and wrath. All have earned gruesome epithets in service to the Blood God but only Skarbrand bears the title of Exile.

In the eternity of carnage that is the great game between the Ruinous Powers of Chaos, no Champion unleashed greater slaughter than Skarbrand.

To Khorne, he earned victories uncounted

It was Skarbrand that tore down the gates of Slaanesh's first palace of pleasure, bringing vast absolute ruin to the prince's harem within. And when the other dark gods marched united against Khorne, it was Skarbrand that led the eight Hosts of Murder to triumph.

No pestilence could decay his hide, no sorcery could break his will and no seduction could stay his rage.

The mountains of skulls he claimed for Khorne's throne and the oceans of gore left in his wake were unequaled in all existence.

His two great axes, Carnage and Slaughter, were feared across every realm not only for Skarbrand's unsurpassed skill in wielding them but because each possessed the soul of a rival bloodthirster that had sought to claim his place.

Skarbrand enjoyed the favor of Khorne like no other but it was this honor that would eventually bring him to an even deeper damnation. To challenge Skarbrand in any test of marshall prowess was an impotent gesture, one that could result in only death.

But it was a trivial matter for Tzeentch, the Architect of Fate, to turn the greatest champion of Khorne against his master.

The pride Skarbrand felt in his conquest was kindled and twisted until the embers of hubris burned within his soul.

The demon came to see weakness in Khorne, a God who only dwelled within his fortress while others battled in his name.

Eager to prove his worthiness to sit atop the skull throne in Khorne's place, Skarbrand was goaded into ever greater acts of destruction.

Finally Tzeentch's designs reached fruition and Skarbrand's pride and rage was redirected towards the Blood God himself.

Skarbrand struck when Khorne's back was turned and his attention directed elsewhere, the mightiest Bloodthirster ever willed into existence Skarbrand's blow might have decimated continents or toppled countries, but against Khorne it was pitiful.

Only the smallest chip was made in the Blood God's brass armor but it was enough to draw his terrible fury.

It is possible that Skarbrand's betrayal was unprecedented within the realm of chaos, conceivably it might have been the first time any god of chaos ever felt the indignity of such a strike.

Dismal though it might have been, it was certainly enough for just a moment to paralyze the entire aether as god and demon alike awaited Khorne's response.

Though none within the Blood God's realm will speak of it. Skarbrand is whispered to have been seized by the throat and cursed by name incandescent with wrath Khorne choked the life from his champion until all that remained was Skarbrand's bottomless rage.

From the highest rampart of the brass citadel, Khorne cast the demon deep into the realm of chaos forever banishing Skarbrand from his sight and favor.

The Bloodthirster is said to have burned like a comet of terrible omen across an unchanging sky for eight days and nights.

The impact of his landing gouged a canyon deep into the land and left Skarbrand's once mighty wings shredded and torn. Skarbrand was left frozen in that first moment of betrayal, forever deranged even by the standard of demons.

He becomes a senseless husk tormented by a deep sense of self-loathing though he no longer has the wit to fully understand why.

He has no personality, no thoughts, no goals , no desires, only a dull awareness of loss and a desperate need to redeem himself.

He is an empty vessel, yet Skarbrand exudes a raging madness even the most judicious of mortal beings cannot resist his corruption.

Wherever he treads, families and friends, disciplined soldiers and loyal allies tear one another apart with wild abandon, devoid of any instinct for self-preservation.

At the center of this anarchy is Skarbrand, his tortured roars enough to shatter buildings and burn away flesh.

In exile he serves the Blood God more faithfully than ever, perhaps in the hope that with enough slaughter and carnage spilled in Khorne's name he might once again enter the pantheon of the Lord of Skulls as his most favored champion.

But this is an impossibility.

There is little regret in the heart of the Blood God and he spares none for Skarbrand.

Tens of millennia ago, when my portal stretched across countless worlds, carrying all kinds of creatures, by a stroke of luck I found Skarbrand's final resting place. " Hardy waved her hand once more, and the smoke billowed towards Pina, churning and swirling around until it surrounded her.

The smoke formed a vast scene around her, large islands loomed around her, while a brooding sea stretched off in the distance.

The choking fumes of the smoke were suddenly replaced by the cries of birds and the crashing of waves; and soon the Princess found that she was soaring above it all, looking down on the scene below.

"Is this how the Gods see us? Little amusements to stare at?" She thought, not wanting to move in case it shattered the scene playing out in front of her.

Her gaze was drawn back to the Tomb of Skarbrand, surrounded by savage warriors armed with clubs and spears. They barked in a crude tongue and danced around the crystals, carrying torches and crude drums.

As they chanted and danced, those ancient crystals began to glow as strange runes floated in the air, and a vast dark portal soon split the heavens.

Hordes of demons spilled out into the clearing, slaughtering the stunned onlookers. Despite the lack of sound, Pina winced at the sight of countless jeering Dark Ogres ripping men apart with their bare hands. Of Skeletal Centaurs crushing bones with their hooves or of Demon Dragons roasting flesh with gouts of fire.

"Why is she showing me this? Why bother with this history lesson?" She thought to herself, keeping her face calm and composed despite her fear.

"Do you want me to destroy the Tomb? To ensure that Skarbrand can never be reborned ?" Pina asked, feeling her shock swirling around her guts like a snake.

"Destroy it! Oh no, that would be impossible for you. No, my Apostle would be needed for that. I need you to go to the Netherworld and get me the two great axes of Skarbrand, Carnage and Slaughter. With those weapons, I could cut through space-time like tissue paper, allowing me and my fellow gods to gain power in whatever lands we wished." She said with a haunting titter.

"And if I refuse to risk my life and my knights for the Goddess of Death?" Pina asked, keeping her hand on the hilt of her sword even as her head swelled with pain the longer she stayed in Hardy's presence.

Her divine guest laughed softly, a sound that echoed through the air along with those terrible bells. Every note brought those vile images back to her mind, but she gritted her teeth and tried to look down at Hardy.

"Even if she kills me, I can at least say that I stood my ground." That thought swirled around in her mind as her mouth filled with bile as the visions continued to tear through her mind.

"You're a smart woman, I'll let you figure that out." Hardy's face seemed to decay as she spoke, becoming withered and dead before Pina's eyes.

"Like it or not, you will carry out my orders. Unless you want to be trapped here for life, torn to pieces by my servants... then you will agree." By the time Hardy had finished speaking, her face had rotted away to reveal a grinning skeleton, her pale bones barely concealed by her cloak.

For a long while, the Princess of Sadera did nothing, stared at the twisted corpse in front of her, and with a sigh, she nodded.

"I'd rather live to find a way to undo this than to die here. It's one thing to face death bravely, but it's better to be alive to congratulate ourselves." She thought to herself ruefully as she stared at the deity before her.

The Goddess of Death clapped her hands together like a loathsome mockery of human emotions, her empty sockets gazing into Pina's soul. Her laugh was as unsettling as the bells, sounding like a squeak when gargling.

"Splendid! I can't wait to see your glorious knights in action! Live, die, you will serve me anyway! Here, have these gifts of mine. You'll need these to find and wield those great axes." She threw Pina a pair of ornately decorated bracelets and a black compass.

Then, with a hideous cackle, the air around Pina began to churn like oil. All around her came the buzzing of a thousand flies, the writhing of worms and maggots, and the sweet stench of rot began to fill her nose.

Those hated bells rang out, again and again, each time sounding louder than the last until she felt them inside her bones. The ringing sent her crashing to her knees, her hands clasped over her ears as if mere flesh could block out a Goddess.

The nightmare that surrounded her only grew in volume and noise, until it felt like with every breath Pina took, maggots filled her mouth. The stirring air began to thicken, becoming a thick layer of mud that blocked the dim light of the torches.

When the light disappeared, Pina felt the air disappear from her body, leaving only a burning pain in place. Immediately, she felt her body fall to the ground, and the last thing she saw before everything went blurry was the grinning skull.

War Room, Imperial High Command, Ula Pianca (Imperial Subterranean Castle )

With the White Crown of Zufmuut sitting proudly on her head, the Golden Cross of Order connected to her waist, and the Silvery Scepter of Light held in the right hand, Mabel Fornm, The Apostle of Light and Order, entered the Imperial War Room, where all the issues of war were decided.

The announcer's eyes widened upon catching sight of Mabel and he attempted to bow before remembering his place and aborting in an awkward gesture. A faint tremor beneath his voice, he announced her to the room.

Her entry was met with stunned silence.

Emperor Molt rushed forward and bowed deeply. "Mistress Mabel. This is an unexpected honor. If I had known of your impending arrival, I could have adequately prepared for you."

"That would spoil the surprise, wouldn't it?" The blue haired Apostle said. "Look at those wrinkles! You're getting old, Mitch." She teased.

"We are not immortals like you, Mistress Mabel."

Had Father just called Her Holiness his Mistress?

"Why does His Majesty act so subservient to Her Holiness Mabel? I know she is a demi-goddess but isn't our Father her social equal?" grumbled the 19th Prince and Secretary of State of the Navy, Gerard de Tassigny.

"Shh! Keep your voice down! Her Holiness Mabel Fornm is father's governess and patroness when he was a young prince. She taught him The Rules for Rulers. She is the author of our Father's favorite quote: The throne looks omnipotent from afar, but it is not, as it the throne to act and the throne acts upon you. No matter how bright the rays of any sun king; No man rules alone. A king can't build roads alone, can't enforce laws alone, can't defend the nation or himself, alone. The power of a king is not to act, but to get others to act on his behalf. In short, she is the reason Father has his throne." Crown Prince Odysseus Sol Augustus explained.

"Rumors also say that Her Holiness saved father's life from assassins many times and some even claimed that he had a crush on her as a child." Added Empire's Prime Minister and Third Prince Diabo El Caesar.

"So, why are you here, Mabella ?"

So her old student remembered her old nickname, how cute! "The usual things," Mabel shrugged. "Help you save the world. Just like the old days. Right, Mitch?"

Lifting the edge of his lips, Molt placed both of his hands on her shoulders gently. "It's good to see you again, Mabella."

"Me too, Mitch."

Mabel covered her mouth to hide her fond smile.

As the heat of the moment died down, when he finally got a closer look at his former governess, Molt froze. Her outfit was essentially translucent, so his eyes could effortlessly make out the well-proportioned voluptuous curves underneath. His eyes slowly wandered down, stopping on her thigh high boots; a most worthwhile expenditure; the incessant pounding of his heart finally calmed down as his thought landed on an old lesson from his training and he swallowed. Acting like a teenage boy who had never tasted a woman, what a shameful scene that was.

"You look nice, Mabella."

"Thank you," Mabel said sweetly, stopping before her chair.

His elbows knocked into the table as he hurriedly pulled out a chair for her. "Have a seat then," Molt said, placing her in the chair right next to him. "Let's continue our meeting."

The Second Prince and Minister of Defense, Zorzal El Caesar stood up and bowed deeply. "Your Holiness Mabel Fornm, we are honored to have you attend our meeting, the Holy Empire and its subjects are forever grateful to you and your companions for what you have done. May your light forever guide us on our righteous path and Gods bless the Empire!"

"It seems that your speech and manners have seen some improvement, Prince Zorzal," Mabel was pleased with the exquisite praise. Zorzal used to be quite insolent and prejudiced in his youth until Mabel herself whooped his presumptuous ass. "In return, I shall give your department a gift."

Mabel raised her right hand elegantly up and from the tip of her delicate finger, a turquoise grimoire appeared in a flash of azure light. The grimoire emitted a gentle green light against the background of her pearly complexion.

Throwing the grimoire towards Zorzal, Mabel said.

"This grimoire contains 1,030,000 pages of intelligence reports on the UEADF that we have gathered during our operations in the Netherworld. It covers the names, identifiers and commanding officer name of each unit down to the platoon level. The grimoire also contains detailed reports on the UEADF's operating protocols, the pros and cons, and the actual combat effectiveness assessments of their vehicles and weapons. You can also find my recommendations at the end."

"We are very grateful, Your Holiness! With this, victory shall be ours."

This joint operation with the human had been a goldmine for our intelligence office. Her Holiness Rory Mercury was a genius, she baited the humans by saying we would offer them gold and free ammunitions. The leaders of the human race were avaricious so they took the bait despite multiple warnings from their intelligence agencies. In order to create ammunition that matched their weapons, the humans provided the Empire with invaluable technical information that would save the Empire months of research, soon allowing the Empire to create advanced weapons of its own.

"Be careful not to fall into the trap of complacency, Young Prince. As we observed the UEADF, they definitely did the same to us." Mabel offered a word of caution. Arrogant was a path that led to defeat.

"Your words are wise as always, Your Holiness!" Zorzal replied. "But the objective reality is that it's easier to play catch-up than to develop new technology. Because the Empire started from a lower starting point. It's easier for us to reverse engineer human technology and achieve technological parity than it is for them to develop new technology to maintain their superiority."

"That's fair, so what's your strategy?"

Zorzal let out a small sigh of relief and signalled to the operators for the presentation to begin. "Your Holiness, Your Majesty, gentlemen of the Imperial Defence Council. After careful deliberation, and discussion with our generals and intelligence directors I have finalized our defense strategy for the next six month.

On paper, our enemy ground force may appear powerful, but in practice they have reached their limit. They will need to regroup and let their forces rest and refit before launching anything resembling a large-scale effective offensive.

Their army, although quite large in number, actually has a big disparity in quality and equipment between the upper and lower echelons.

That means the army deployed in the Netherworld is the bulk of their strength. While they account for only 25% of the nominal number, they have up to 50% of the equipment.

Of the 20 million UEADF soldier fighting in the Eye of Terror, roughly 4 million have died plus 2 million wounded at the River Styx. That is 30% casualty rate.

In a military sense they are somewhere between combat ineffective and shattered. The amount of units that are now understrength is probably alarmingly high.

These forces need at least 30 earth days, more likely 90, considering their ration situation, to be even remotely capable of reentering combat.

All of this means that our defensive positions in Lemuria are likely to be secure in the short term, minus a few air raids.

So, what we plan to do is...

2 hours later

"So that's an overview of our plan."

"A rather detailed plan you have here, Prince Zorzal," praised Mabel, "But you have a strategic blind spot."

The Prince frowned. "What is that, Your Holiness?"

"You haven't taken into account the new reality that humans are about to take control of the Netherworld. With that, they can launch an invasion on any place on the planet. It is the ultimate high ground." She gestured vaguely.

"You think the humans will ally with the demons?"

Mabel crossed her arms, her alluring eyebrows drawn closer together. "I won't say that, the public backlash will be too much for what it's worth, but they will surely find a way to take advantage of that place."

"Her Holiness Mabel is right. Having the human as the sole ruler of the Netherworld poses an unacceptable risk for our long term security. There are hundreds of billions of souls in the Netherworld. We are not sure what forbidden knowledge exists there or what resources humans can use to fuel their war machine." Molt added.

"Forgive me Father, for my carelessness!" Zorzal bowed deeply, realizing how short sighted he was.

"What is your proposal, Your Holiness?"

"Ideally it would be to destroy all demons and gain control of the Netherworld for ourselves, but this is not possible considering our strength in the region. So our main objective should be to deny the enemy access to this area as much as possible."

"And how are we going to do this, Your Holiness?"

"By securing as many allies in the region as possible. Even our most conservative estimates suggest there are as many as 300 billion souls in the Netherworld. With the demons overthrown, some of them will want to be independent. We must support their efforts and set up friendly governments in the region."

"But what about human reactions?" Diabo asked.

"Their leadership hasn't developed a long term plan for the region yet, and more importantly, they still need our ammunition to secure the area. We can use that as leverage to secure an agreement that guarantees regional neutrality in the upcoming conflicts. We will flood the area with weapons, in the name of security. Doing so will curtail the human's influence by making these new governments indebted to us. I will personally lead a negotiating delegation to negotiate an agreement with the human. In the meantime, don't provoke humans.

Underground City of Skavenblight, Azjania, Falmart

In the distance, Itami could see Lady Prisha Sargun's villa perched atop a gently sloping hill and surrounded by a delicately tended bioluminescent flower garden and a crystal clear pond. The dark shapes are layered from start to finish with an occasional patch of color sticking out. The villa itself seems to have grown out of the landscape as the smooth masonry interwoven with carved woodwork gives the property an almost magical feel.

"Her Most Reverend Prisha Sargun is the former Apostle of the Goddess of Fertility Miritta. She retired about three thousand year ago for various reasons. She currently is the chairwomen of the Holy Seven, a group of retired apostles. This is one of many of Goddess Miritta's holdings. Prisha has done an excellent job of managing the small estate that her mistress had bestowed her as a reward for her long service," Aleister gave Itami a brief history lesson.

Sitting beside Itami, Lelei attentively jotted down this information in a small notebook. Accurate historical information of an apostle was hard to come by.

"A small word of advice, Lady Prisha is a genius but she's also eccentric and rather capricious. Don't say anything unless asked. Just let us do the talking." Giselle added, her eyes darting out the window nervously.

"I understand," Itami said; he was more surprised at the attitude of the apostles when it came to Prisha Sargun. The awkwardness in their voices was somewhat too familiar for him. Like the children talking about that one weird family member in the family reunion.

Looking at close distance, Lelei saw that the house, while clearly expensive, had none of the bombastic feel that she associated with the nobles. It was tasteful and Lelei could almost imagine one of her master's friends living inside.

The white carriage began to slow down as they went over the portcullis. Lady Prisha greeted them cheerfully as they entered the courtyard. Prisha is a rather tall and dark-skinned elf with long wavy silver hair in a pony-tail with dreadlocks that frame her face down to her shoulders violet eyes.

Deceptively youthful-looking for her advanced age, Prisha appears as a beautiful woman in her late 20's to early 30's. She is slender in frame yet exceptionally voluptuous with long shapely legs, wide hips, slim waistline, and a considerably well-endowed bosom and remarkably curvaceous butt.

Prisha wears a revealing tops that exposes most of her unblemished lower back and snuggles deeply in-between the depths of her well-endowed breasts, a ridiculously short skirt, which is only 1 inch below her ass cheek, that allows her butt to easily slip out and lays bare most of her seductive legs, two elaborately decorated sleeve guards, two knives on her hips, an embroidered red cape over shoulders. Similar to Aleister, she goes barefoot.

"That voluptuous figure! She definitely is an apostle of the goddess of fertility!" His face turned red. "Thanks Kami, this one doesn't look like an adolescent." Itami thought to himself.

Keeping her distance was a younger boy, but he never uttered a word and disappeared when Lady Prisha waved at him.

"Who is that child ?" Itami wondered.

Elegantly dropped to his knees, his left arm crossing his chest, Aleister was the first to speak. "Lady Prisha, we are honored to meet you today. Unfortunately, M'lady, we don't have time for pleasantries as we have an urgent situation that requires your expertise."

"How impatient of you, young Aleister." Prisha frowned with displeasure, "You haven't let your companions introduce themselves."

Tossing her hair back, Prisha turned around, her violet eyes met Itami. "You have young Rory's scent on your body. Are you her new boyfriend?"

The question caught him by surprise, Itami replied honestly. "I guess you could say that, Lady Prisha. My name is Yoji Itami. I'm a general in the JSDF."

"A general !" Prisha crowed in delight. "I know it! I know Rory's next boyfriend will be a general, Sika now owes me a Nemean lion."

She placed a bet on that !?

"And who are you, dear?" Prisha turned to Lelei, placing her hand on the girl's chin.

"Lelei La Lalena, Viscountess of Rurudo, Your Reverend." Lowering her head to show respect, Lelei replied succinctly.

"You look like a smart girl, do you want to be my lab assistant?" Prisha said in a teasing voice. Her gaze bored into the girl's soul.

"Becoming a lab assistant ?" Her eyes widened. "For a demi-goddess !?" Many sages would kill for that chance but Lelei didn't want to. She wanted to travel the world to witness and record history, not trapped in some underground laboratory.

But to refuse an offer from a demi-goddess is blasphemy. In the land of Falmart, their voices represent the gods, therefore their will is absolute. One does not simply reject an offer from the divine.

What should she do? What could she even do !?

"So, what is your answer?" Prisha pressed her offer on the poor girl that she could not refuse. Her voice was deceptively kind but the ultimatum was clear.

"I'm afraid she has to refuse," Giselle interrupted, shoving Lelei behind her and glowering at the well-endowed demi-goddess. "Pardon her, Lady Prisha. For her young mind is unsuited for your unique antics."

Prisha Sargun's lips curled up. "What is the fuss, Giselle !? I promise I won't make her do anything dangerous." Prisha said casually.

"Your track record said otherwise, Lady Prisha!" Giselle grimaced.

"It was just an incident." Prisha innocently said.

"Two thousand nine hundred and seventeen incidents in 3574 years is not a good record for your lab assistants, Lady Prisha." Giselle shot back. Not getting her off the hook that easy.

At Giselle's accusing gaze, Prisha turned her head and pursed her lips.

Giselle had heard many rumors about Prisha's biomagical experiments and how she was ignoring ethical boundaries in the name of knowledge. There was a reason why Prisha chose the underground city of Skavenblight as her homebase. Illegal activities like this were one of the reasons for her early retirement.

The full history was more complicated.

Prisha Sargun was once a very kind woman, until she was captured by the Plague Lord Nurgle himself, who locked her deep in his laboratory.

Cursed with a vulnerability to every disease, but blessed with the ability to purge them all, the Plague Lord tested his concoctions on Prisha Sargun, judging their potency by how long it took her to recover.

In her suffering, the captive demi-goddess wept tears that could heal every ailment, and whispered to mortals the secret cures for all of Nurgle's ailments. So had she entered the beliefs of a thousand cultures under a thousand names.

Once Prisha was rescued from her torment, she was no longer the kind-hearted woman she used to be but a twisted soul yearning for knowledge.

"Lady Prisha, Please! We have an emergency that needs your help." Itami lost his patience, his voice almost pleading. Rory's life was in danger, they didn't have time for this.

"Fine! Bring her out." Rolling her eyes, she grumbled.

Doing as they were told, Giselle and Aleister slammed their hands on the ground. "Secret Art: Time Sarcophagus ."

In a flash of light, an elaborately carved roman-style white sarcophagus appeared on the ground.

"A time sarcophagus, very clever!" Prisha applauded the ingenuity of her juniors.

Within the time sarcophagus, time was completely frozen thus this was a good way to preserve the seriously ill until they could be cured or to seal dangerous things.

Opening the sarcophagus lid, Prisha saw Rory lying naked in it as if sleeping. Her skin was pale, but what caught her attention was that she couldn't feel any heartbeat from Rory. Prisha examined the girl more closely, her fingers gliding over Rory's body.

She had no heart ?! Well, that explained her pale skin.

This must be Giselle and Aleister doing. A very high level sealing magic as a contingency plan. They did very well, as an apostle, duty must alway come first.

Looking closely at Rory using her hypervision, Prisha discovered an incredibly complex magic matrix woven throughout her body. Red, blue and violet lines intertwined.

"Fascinating!" She hissed, unable to keep the excitement out of her voice.

This required a more thorough examination. Waving at the boy earlier, she said. "Yu, dear. Could you bring this sleeping beauty into my Soul Forge and examine her thoroughly then give me a comprehensive biomagical report? "

The young boy with the messy hair ran towards Prisha and carried Rory as ordered without saying a word.

Clapping her hands, Prisha inclined her head and smiled. "So, who wants a tea party?"

Ehhhhhhhh!

Boardroom, Itami Group Headquarter, Yokohama, Japan

The 20th century saw a bitter confrontation between two opposed economic systems. Free-market capitalism led by the United States and centralized economic communism led by the Soviet Union. With the collapse of the Soviet Union in 1991, capitalism emerged victorious and spread throughout the world. Without an enemy to compete with, the US and most of the world embraced neoliberalism. This results in financial capital becoming increasingly concentrated in the hands of fewer and fewer people and corporations growing bigger and more powerful than they've ever been in history.

In the Land of the Rising Sun, Zaibatsu, a Japanese term referring to industrial and financial vertically integrated business conglomerates in the Empire of Japan, whose influence and size allowed control over significant parts of the Japanese economy from the Meiji period until the end of World War II, started to re-emerge.

The Big Four zaibatsu (Mitsubishi, Sumitomo, Itami and Toyota) alone had direct control over more than 30% of Japan's mining, chemical, and metals industries and almost 50% control of the machinery and equipment market, a significant part of the foreign commercial merchant fleet and 70% of the commercial stock exchange.

Itami Group (伊丹 グループ) is considered the biggest of the vertically integrated Zaibatsu groups, although the company is rather considered as a "emerged" Zaibatsu. The banks at the top are not as large as normally required, so it is actually considered to be more horizontally integrated than other Zaibatsu.

The Rumbling in the 2019 had profound effects on the Zaibatsu. Many of the largest banks were hit hard by the financial collapse and forced to merge or go out of business. This had the effect of blurring the lines between the individual Zaibatsu: Itami Bank and Sumitomo Bank, for instance, became Itami Sumitomo Banking Corporation in 2021, while Toyota Motor became part of Toyota Itami Motor Corporation.

"There is a great opportunity coming up, an opportunity that I believe this Board will be interested in."

The speaker looked around at the twenty members of the Board of Directors. They are some of the biggest financial tycoons in Japan and half of them come from the famous Itami clan. The total assets of the board of directors are close to one trillion dollars. Whether they were from the Itami clan or not, all of them nodded.

"Proceed."

Chief Financial Officer Takuya was eager to announce the good news. "Chairman Itami, our partners at ExxonMobil have confirmed the existence of oil in the Netherworld. Lots and lots of them. In their initial exploration, their petroleum geologists and geophysicists estimates that areas north of the Circle of Terror have 90 trillion barrels of recoverable oil (and 44 trillion barrels of natural gas liquids ) in 25 geologically defined areas thought to have potential for petroleum.

This is 110 times greater than the total amount of undiscovered oil on Earth.

America, China, Russia and even Saudi Arabia have stepped in. They are dividing the oil-rich areas for themselves. ExxonMobil and PetroChina are planning a joint venture next year. Saudi Aramco and Gazprom are also planning to do the same. With a 17 percent stake in ExxonMobil, Itami Group will certainly reap great benefit."

"So oil prices are finally going down. This is good news." Said Chairman Hayato Itami. Oil prices had been hovering around 300 dollars a barrel for the past 10 years. That had put great strain on the world economy.

"Not so quickly, Mr. Chairman. The Netherworld lacks the necessary infrastructure to extract oil. The news may affect oil prices, but oil prices will only really drop in the next two years or so. I believe when it stabilizes, the price of oil will fluctuate around 30 dollars a barrel. That will improve our profit margin.

That's not all, Mr. Chairman.

At 30 dollars a barrel, the shale oil industry would go bust. Our main competitor, Mitsubishi Group, who has invested a lot of money in shale oil, will have great financial difficulty, even more than now. Mitsubishi Group already has a lot of trouble after their factories in Kyoto were annihilated by the chaos demons. In other words, they won't be able to refinance themselve.

Put simply, this is our golden chance for mergers and acquisitions (M&A). Once the oil starts flowing to the market, their share price will drop dramatically. We can easily 'Buy The Dip' half of their property. Our top M&A target will be Mitsubishi Heavy Industries and Mitsubishi Electric Corporation. Itami Group already controlled Toshiba Corporation, Kawasaki Heavy Industries, and Ishikawajima-Harima Heavy Industries Corporation. With those two acquisitions, almost 60% of the Japanese defense contracts will be awarded to us."

"They may have a solution to this." The spotlights switched to Yumiko Itami, CEO of Kawasaki Heavy Industries. "The poison pill strategy."

A shareholder rights plan, colloquially known as a "poison pill", is a type of defensive tactic used by a corporation's board of directors against a takeover. In the field of mergers and acquisitions, shareholder rights plans were devised in the early 1980s as a way to prevent takeover bids by taking away a shareholder's right to negotiate a price for the sale of shares directly.

Typically, such a plan gives shareholders the right to buy more shares at a discount if one shareholder buys a certain percentage or more of the company's shares.

The plan could be triggered, for instance, if any one shareholder buys 20% of the company's shares, at which point every shareholder (except the one who possesses 20%) will have the right to buy a new issue of shares at a discount.

If all other shareholders are able to buy more shares at a discount, such purchases would dilute the bidder's interest, and the cost of the bid would rise substantially.

Knowing that such a plan could be activated, the bidder could be disinclined to take over the corporation without the board's approval, and would first negotiate with the board in order to revoke the plan.

Chairman Hayato nodded and there was a whispered exchange between the members of the board. Finally his younger cousin, the Minister of Defense, Taro Itami spoke. "You don't have to worry about that. The Prime Minister and his party are in our pockets, the government is not going to rescue Mitsubishi. They will have to accept our offer."

Prisha Manor, Skavenblight, Azjania, Falmart

"Earth..." Lady Prisha sighed wistfully, smoothing her dangerously short skirt exposing her long shapely legs and if you sit opposite her like the unlucky Itami, you could even saw the pink lips of her cunt slightly opened like two rose petals fresh with morning dew, covered with fine silky silvery pussy hair as she didn't wear panty underneath. "Young man, how do you think the food of the Earth compares to that of the Empire? Is it true that my country's culinary arts completely fail to compare?"

Itami coughed in surprise and stumbled over his words. "I would not say that they, I mean your, I mean Darwinian culinary arts —"

Covering her mouth, Lady Prisha giggled and casted an amusing look at the Japanese general. Carelessly lowering her head, revealing her well-endowed bosom, Prisha whispered, "Don't worry. I am neither a purist nor a supremacist. I for one find the Empire culinary arts absolutely atrocious. I love my Empire, but the food is definitely not why."

"It's... excessive," Itami agreed hesitantly. Darwinian cooking style and traditional dishes both use too much alcohol and spices. They put alcohol on absolutely everything, even pastry. They even put alcohol in their version of coffee, who the fuck did that !?

If it weren't for their super regenerative ability, they would all have liver disease.

This culture of alcoholism and over seasoning seemed to have emerged as a result of some serious lobbying from the wine and spice industry in the Imperial senate. Some had joked that the Wine and Spice Guild Associations had half of the senators in their pocket. The elves and dwarves aristocrats had a stranglehold on these industries and they fiercely defended their interests.

"Do you cook, young viscountess ?"

"I was told that is not an appropriate activity for a member of the nobility." At the long disappointed look, Lelei admitted, "Not very well, Your Reverend. If the mess hall was unavailable, I would normally throw something into the Heizung pot. Or if I was with my Master, I would add some water and make a soup. That's not too difficult."

"A Heizung pot ?"

"A new invention by the wood elves, Your Reverend."

Amused, Lelei explained the "new" way of making food and how a Heizung pot functioned. Lady Prisha listened in rapt attention, her eyes wide with wonder.

Listening to Lelei's explanation, Itami thought this Heizung pot worked surprisingly like a microwave on Earth, it basically was a magic microwave.

"But why would you want to eat quickly?"

"To save time? I had classes to attend, and even when I worked for Master Kato in Rondel, he was always rushing between classes. Some days, he only has time to eat on the walk there. There is simply too much to do. When I was with my family though, we always had a big, long dinner and entertained guests."

"That sounds much more sensible. If you cannot manage your schedule to have sufficient time to eat, how can anyone expect you to manage a business like a true noble?"

Turning to Aleister, the dark elf asked. "Virginia Kissless, how is my cute successor doing ?"

Sipping some of his fresh mixed blood, Aleister replied. "Lady Virginia has done an outstanding job, M'lady. This year alone, she has midwifed and performed over a thousand baptisms for the newly born princes and princesses of the Empire and his vassal states, thus ensuring their allegiance to the Holy Order. Her sermons also attracted huge audiences of all races and classes. Emperor Molt may rule over their material life, but their spiritual life is certainly ours domain."

"Good for her, then. I used to wonder why Mistress Miritta would choose a virgin maiden, and an orphan one at that, for the position of the Apostle of Fertility. I thought this was a bad joke at first. Usually, you must be an experienced prostitute before you can even be considered for an apprentice position. Mistress Miritta is the patron goddess of prostitutes, isn't she!? "

"So you tested her excessively, didn't you?" Giselle asked humorously.

Prisha leaned back, slipped a gulp of tea then nodded. "Yes. And that silly girl never gives up. There's something about that silly girl and her smile that radiates positivity no matter how hard it gets. That blonde girl has an infinite capacity for love and forgiving. Despite this, if you even think about getting between her and her adopted children she'll tear straight through you. Threaten her children, and you are in for a world of hurt."

"Yeah, Lady Virginia can be pretty scary when it comes to protecting her kids!" Giselle and Aleister nodded in agreement. "I saw her and lord Mortar tear apart a giant sea monster, a Blastoise, with her bare hands once." The crimson-haired vampire added.

"Mortar Mobkis, Apostle of Duncan, God of Blacksmith!" A curious gleam shone in Lady Prisha's eyes. "Giselle, you met Mortar Mobkis repeatedly, correct? I need him to build me a new dungeon for my test subjects, but I have never had the opportunity to spend more than a minute in his presence. He is always busy building something. I was really hoping the Hanging Gardens of Xandan opening ceremony would be different, but alas, when I found him, Her Goddess Hardy was keeping him company, and I am not enough of a fool to approach her."

"Oh, yeah. Mistress Hardy hired him to build the Lighthouse of Souls for her. We have some problems in the Sea of Soul. The increasing number of lost souls resulted in the creation of some nasty undead. I have personally exorcized hundreds of Elder Lich, Skeletal Dragon, Dullahan and Soul Eater. What's a pain in the butt!" Giselle recounted.

"So, he's free now, right ?" Her eyes brimmed with hope.

Giselle shrugged and said. "I heard the Emperor hired him to build something big. He and his 50 men took large quantities of magic gems and blackstone from my mine last month."

"What a shame!" Prisha sighed.

Glancing at Aleister and Giselle, stroking her hair suggestively, Prisha suggested affectionately. "So while we wait for Rory's biomagical diagnosis result, who wants to go to bed with me and practice some carnal knowledge?"

Eyebrows raised, but since they were supposed to ask her for help, they nodded. "I guess some loosen up would be good. Let's have some fun, Lady Prisha."

"Splendid! I will prepare the dungeon and the toys. We will have a real orgy tonight."

Left behind, Itami was shocked by the brazen suggestion while Lelei remained as stoic as always.

True to her words, as Aleister and Giselle entered the sex dungeon they were frozen by what they saw. The dungeon was huge complete with a bathroom, multiple beds and elaborate cages, padded examination, restraints (ribbons, rope, handcuffs, wrist cuffs, ankle cuffs, suction cuffs, etc.) whips and floggers, blindfolds and blackout masks, feather ticklers, gags costumes, spreader bar (spreads legs), sex swings, vibrators, dildos and strap-ons, camping beds (quick, collapsible beds that can be used in a variety of ways), massage tables, spanking paddles, oils, lotions, lubricants, scented candles and all the toys you need to explore any kink.

"Holy Shit!"

---

Warning sexual content- just skip if you want.

Prisha told Aleister to go to the bathroom and strip, and the boy eagerness to submit and his scampered off made Prisha even more horny. Giselle and Prisha walked slowly into the bathroom behind him, fondling each other's plump asscheeks, trying to turn each other on even more before they turned Aleister into their sex toy tonight.

Prisha undressed him in front of a long mirror as Giselle caressed and stroked his sweet and erotic whorelike body. His small body is so child-like and feminine, so beautiful, especially with some of his dark crimson hair stray around his delicate and soft skin. His penis is tiny, and it's so cute.

Prisha curled a leg around Aleister and began to kiss him passionately, his head clasped between her hands and her voluptuous breasts, his body shivering under her relentless assault. Giselle stroked the boy's cock until it was even harder, as her other hand snaked around him to rub his asscheeks. Fearing Aleister would ejaculate then, far too soon, they released him.

"No cumming yet, you eager little slut boy," Prisha breathed onto the boy neck as she nuzzled Aleister, "Bad little sluts like us can't cum too soon, can we?"

Prisha shaved Aleister whorelike legs, while Giselle took care of the boy upper body. She smeared hair-removal cream all over Aleister, and Giselle rinsed it off with the shower head as she rubbed the freshly-smooth skin. Prisha saved the shaving of Aleister feminine cock for herself, savouring the timid erection that built under her gentle touch. They helped him out of the shower and patted him dry. Prisha rubbed moisturiser into Aleister smooth supple skin while Giselle fetched his outfit.

Aleister felt the air against his skin when she'd finished, and as Prisha rubbed her hands up his smooth legs, Aleister knew he was up for anything they could do to him.

"I love your girly thighs, slut boy," she whispered, "Just as you love them too, don't you?"

Aleister nodded and moaned agreement as Prisha's hand brushed his hair.

"You want to be our girl, don't you? And get fucked by us both? You know we'll make you love it. You know if you let us, we'll turn you into our femmy priss who has to beg to cum?"

Aleister nodded again, his throat dry as they teased him. Prisha pulled out her makeup kit and began shaping his face to match her pleasure dolls. Giselle took the outfit from her bag and started sliding the strawberry pink satin panties up Aleister shapely legs. Giselle told him how good it would feel when he wore them - and let her slide them into place, giving his engorged dick a stroke as she smoothed them. Prisha pussy was soaking wet as she watched the red haired vampire submit his lewd body to them.

Aleister vagina mouth looked so fuckable as Prisha applied the heavy red lipstick, and Giselle wrapped the pink brocade corset fringed with black lace around his chest. As Prisha pulled the strings and it tightened around him, shaping him and molding him, she saw his lovely cock twitch in his panties. Prisha commented on how excited his little girly cock was and breathlessly promised him even more shameless pleasure.

The pink bustier corset with black lace, a motif continued on the knickers - frothy, frilly lace affairs in matching satin. Prisha knew they'd drive Aleister mad as they rubbed against his erected cock, and the wide lace bow on his arse would untie - revealing an opening over his rosy arsehole - at the first sharp tug. Pink stockings with black lace tops were clipped to the eight wide straps of the deep garter belt. Prisha zipped black knee-boots of soft leather onto Aleister shapely legs as Giselle busied herself, perfecting the lie of the alluring pink wig she wanted him to wear.

Aleister feminine cock was as stiff as a rock pillar, and he was visibly blushing. Prisha was completely turned on, and had to crush her lips to his in a heated kiss. Giselle seperated them gently as she moved in to put his makeup on. Full black false eyelashes were thickened further with mascara, and she quickly rimmed Aleister eyes with liner.

Looking at his reflections, Aleister could see he were a perfect match for his mistress in his corset, knickers and stockings. His lipstick and eyebrows were startling against his pale-powdered face and the blusher only recreated the real heat behind his makeup. Aleister were sexier than Prisha had ever imagined. Their hands ran over Aleister silk-covered body, lustfully groping and rubbing his androgynous adolescent body. Giselle moaned as she stroked his slender legs uthrough his stockings, and Aleister echoed Giselle lecherous moan as Prisha gently touched his throbbing cock that was now satin-clad.

Leading Aleister into the bedroom, Prisha blindfolded him. She didn't want him to know what tonight's plan was or spoil the kinky surprise.

Prisha lay Aleister gently on the bed and fastened his wrists and ankles to the posts using fluffy black restraints. Face down, Aleister were helpless as Prisha pushed a satin-covered pillow under his groin. Giselle pulled the tie on his knickers, and they moved apart, exposing his hairless pink arsehole. With his satin-slad buttocks in the air, all Giselle could do was to refrain from raping him right there. Prisha was more rational and began to smear strawberry lubricant onto Aleister tight opened anus. Giselle knelt behind Aleister and started to run her tongue over his flawless tender asscheeks, while Prisha massaged the lube into his arsehole with her finger. Aleister breathing changed, coming in starts as she varied the pace of her finger fucking his poor anus. Giselle moved in closer and ran her hot wet tongue around the tempting pink arsehole Prisha finger was penetrating.

Prisha moved her mouth to Aleister ear and softly began describing what she were doing to him, her husky voice drenched with lust. Aleister started rubbing his erected cock against the satin material of the pillow, as he bucked against her lewd fingers.

Giselle knelt up and moved in with her lubed dildo. She turned off the vibrations and pushed it against Aleister anal sphincter, smoothly replacing her finger as she slid the huge dildo into his delicate asshole. Aleister asshole weren't as tight as the first time they fucked him, but the sensations obviously felt just as good - his long drawn-out moan of desire told her that.

Aleister tried not to tense, and to allow himself to relax, but when Giselle switched on the vibrator, all he could do is not to yelp. She pushed harder, and the whole length of the dildo slid smoothly in, pressing against Aleister prostate.

This time, the boy couldn't help it. He let out a long feminine sigh as it pressed into him, filling Aleister completely.

Prisha moved in front of Aleister and the crimson-haired boy opened his mouth begging for her sweet-tasting dildo.

"Oh, suck my dick. Good boy, take like a boy-bitch. You're so good at this... I can't wait to fuck that tight little arse of yours with my cock – get it nice and wet, slutboy!"

As Prisha started to fuck his bewitching face relentlessly, Giselle made sure Aleister didn't forget about her cock in his ass. Giselle worked herself into a faster and faster rhythm, slapping his buttocks and calling Aleister every filthy name she could think of. To her delight, his submissive nature meant Aleister reacted strongly as Prisha joined her in telling Aleister what a fuck-happy boy-slut he were. They promised to have all their friends come round and fuck Aleister into degraded slut-hood. As Prisha told Aleister how they'd dress him as their personal femmy boy-slave before taking their turns ramming their huge strapons into his arse while the rest of them watched, Giselle felt Aleister asshole spasm harder as they said.

Instantly, they pulled out, leaving him heaving and panting. Aleister were so close to cumming, but it wasn't enough for Prisha. This time she wanted to break Aleister utterly, to reduce him to a simpering girly whore.

Prisha brought in the fuck machine from her room, and slid it into place behind him. Aleister were begging to have their cocks back inside his asshole as Prisha lined up the thick dildo and the spanking arms. The velvet-covered seperators drew his cheeks apart as Prisha plugged it in and switched it on. With the blindfold on, Aleister could only imagine what sort of contraption it was.

With his buttocks held firmly apart, Prisha lined up the giant dildo and pressed the very tip to Aleister's waiting arsehole. Prisha voice was seductive as she persuaded Aleister to admit he loved it. She made him beg, and Aleister, who had become such a wanton, brazen little wench, did it. As Aleister begged for her cock, with a touch of the controls, the lengthy dildo thrust deep inside Aleister anal canal - making the boy cry out in surprise and pleasure. Another switch and the two gloved hands on either side of his creamy white asscheeks began an irregular spanking. Aleister tried to grind back onto the invader, desperate for more sensual sensation. And Prisha admired the cock-craving slut she had created.

As the machine fucked Aleister in his anus, the violent vibrations ran through him and Prisha could see the thrills runnign across his well painted face. Prisha couldn't bear it any more. She barking orders at Giselle, who obeyed with downcast eyes.

"Sit on his face, bitch, my boy slut needs to learn to suck cunt!"

Prisha pulled off Giselle panties and she positioned her sopping pussy in front of his euphoric face. As his long tongue lashed onto Giselle large blood engorged pink clit, Prisha straddled the poor Aleister to face her. They began rubbing their dildos against each other as their cunts moved over Aleister talented lipsticked mouth.

"That's right, whore boy, suck her til she cums on your face. I want to see my little bitch fuck like rabbits. Both of you will be begging me to rip you apart with my dildo later."

Aleister licked his mistress cunts like the little boy bitch he'd become under Prisha lusty control. His arse filled by a huge dildo, his erected cock rubbing furiously against the silk knickers and satin pillow, Aleister looked and sounded as though he were in heaven.

Aleister did well as expected, this wasn't his first time he was fucked, afterall. But Giselle knew they'd have to improve on the ten minutes it took to bring Aleister to turn him into a shuddering sissified wench that craved dick only. The boy helplessness only added to Prisha excitement, and her clitoris felt hot and stiff as his lustful tongue ran over it. Giselle knew she wasn't far, and she could tell from the heat flooding Prisha's body that she was close to the edge too.

Giselle orgasmed first, her pussy juices soaking his face. As the stars began to flash in front of her eyes, Giselle could feel Prisha tense and pull her partner to her, crushing the fake cocks between them. Prisha cum was just as wet as Giselle's had been - Prisha was as turned on as she was about having a smooth, femmed little boy toy to dress and fuck as she wanted.

Prisha pulled the machine away and she took its place, sinking her huge dildo inside Aleister. Giselle pressed a button on her remote and suddenly Aleister asshole were full of buzzing, humming cock. Giselle had promised Prisha that she could have Aleister's arse, and in return for the chance to pump her shaven cunt against the boy's smooth girlish plumpness face, Giselle demanded a similar price. As she fucked Aleister deeply, Giselle slid her tail into Prisha erotic arses. Prisha gasped at the unfamiliar sensation, but soon gave herself over to the feeling of having Giselle thick rough dragon tail stretching her arsehole wide opened.

Giselle asked Prisha how she felt as she matched the mating rhythm Prisha established with Aleister. Prisha panted and gasped for breath as she told them how good it was to take Giselle tail in her arse. In her turn, Prisha asked Aleister how his arse-fucking felt, and spanked Aleister sharply when the boy didn't reply. Aleister were gasping for breath as Prisha asked whether it felt good to be her sissy fuck slut, and she spanked Aleister again for not responding. Prisha was almost incoherent with lust - as were Aleister. She asked Aleister whether he like to be dressed in frilly girly lingerie and have two women fuck him in the arse and mouth, whether such an obviously filthy boy whore deserved an orgasm, and finally whether Aleister wanted more fucking.

Giselle couldn't understand his reply, but she saw his response as both of them began rubbing their fake cock, stocking tops and upper thighs.

Giselle moved around slightly so Aleister could see himself in the mirror. He looked like a vixenish cocksucker servicing his mistress shaft with his bright red lips.

Prisha was exhausted form kept pumping the dildo as it spurted inside him. The shock of feeling her mound slapping against his arse, combined with the look of wanton desperation in his made-up face along with Prisha's devilish grin meant Aleister couldn't hold back.

With the fucking and the erotic interrogation and of course the feeling of being dressed in smooth silks, Aleister started to ejaculate opey strands after ropey strands of pearly gelatinous hot sticky spermatic fluid.

But Prisha wasn't finished. She asked whether Aleister wanted her to train him further. Train him to be their pimped-out sissy anal slave who could take cock like a pro. Train the red haired vampire for a very special day when their lesbian and bisexual friends could fuck her while they forced her to watch Aleister being pounded relentlessly in the anus.

Aleister cock ejaculated incessantly into his knickers, drenching Prisha fingers with his hot sticky semen as Aleister agreed, yelping as each wave of ecstasy hit Aleister and he clenched his anal sphincter around the vibrating dildo.

Aleister felt as though he'd never stop cumming. It was as though a drum beat through him and on every stroke his sphincter clenched hard against his mistress' cock. His wet, warm anus made sucking noises as the dildo moved in, and his suddenly electrified cock blasted out another stream of sperm.

Giselle watched the pink-clad vampire shoot his semen non-stop into his satin prison as she fucked the woman responsible for his earth-shattering orgasm, and felt herself fall into space as the crest of Giselle own climax hit her. Prisha climaxed fast, right after Giselle, babbling and groaning.

Later, after several post-orgasmic quakes of pleasure, both of Giselle and Aleister fell asleep with the still-humming cocks vibrated inside Aleister swollen asshole. While Prisha lay awake, fingering her clit as she formulated the next step in her carnal game.

Aleister awoke in darkness 15 minutes later, to find Prisha moved across the bed again. This time she straddled Aleister, her hands on his nipples and her legs rubbing against his stockings. One of her hand left his chest and stroked down the smooth material of the corset, before moving lower across his groin onto his still stiff cock. Meanwhile her other hand produced another plastic phallus, and suddenly his mouth was one again filled by a dildo.

"Suck my pussy juices, sissy," she taunted, "And be grateful I didn't give you my other dildo to suck, given where I have that."

The vibrator smelled of her cunt, and Aleister sucked it as Prisha held his cock upright and gave it a short stroke. Aleister thrust his hips towards her, trying to increase the friction. In response, Prisha swapped direction and stroked up the meat shaft, her fingers forming a ring to wank his dick.

Prisha varied the pressure of her grip as she continued to frig the boy dick. Aleister raised his hips as far as he could and clenched his buttocks, and shrieked into the gag as he forced the buzzing toy inside his ass.

Aleister was going mad with desire, and closed his eyes as he surrendered to her. Prisha must have sensed Aleister utter submission, and giggled softly.

"There, my little pet, that wasn't hard, was it? Just give yourself up to me and I'll make your pretty head spin like the prissy fuck doll you want to be."

Prisha started working Aleister cock with her mouth. Soft kisses heated the knickers, and as her lips rubbed the underside of his penis, Aleister let out a muffled moan into the gag.

Slowly, teasing him all the way, she kissed up to the tip of his cock and let her open mouth settle there for a moment, sucking it gently. Her hands slid along his stockinged legs and started to stroke his balls. The silky material slid around them under her ministrations.

Prisha head moved, and she shifted position - moving her lips off Aleister swollen cock. Aleister slumped back down on the bed, and twitched as he drove the sex toy deeper into his violated hole. Aleister gave a soft grunt and ground his buttocks down on the mattress, stirring the toy around, hitting heavenly spots.

Prisha then sank down onto his dick, and the boy felt the burning wetness of her cunt. She hissed as his cock entered her inexorably until her buttocks rested on his stocking tops. Aleister was balls-deep in her pussy but unable to move except for the tiniest thrusts. Aleister was at her mercy, and she knew it.

The buzzing inside Aleister ass had risen to a howl. No matter how he tried to twist or turn, her weight held the boy firmly in place. All Aleister could manage to do was shift the vibrator around inside him as his muscles nudged it to other, equally sensitive, spots. Aleister could feel vibrations against his cock, and realised he could feel the sex toy Prisha had in her arse.

Aleister strained ay his bonds as she began to ride him. Her palms pressed down on his breasts, and her fingers kneaded them gently. Prisha rose steadily until only the head of his penis was inside her. The vibrators stopped.

Aleister relaxed for a moment.

Aleister screamed into the knickers as both toys jumped into life at what he prayed was their highest setting. Aleister couldn't take anything more insistent - his felt almost sharp inside him as it thrummed against the walls of his arse. At the same time the woman riding Aleister slammed her pelvis down, enveloping his cock with her vagina and gripping him tightly with her extremely strong internal muscles. Her silken cunt twitched as the fake cock in her arse buzzed loudly.

Prisha did it again, forcefully humping Aleister as she gave them another blast of the vibrators. Aleister began to sob with the pleasure, begging her to fuck him harder and make him ejaculate.

"Come on, sissy," she urged, "Spurt for me - show me how much you enjoy being tied up and fucked! Show me what sort of little slut you really are!"

Aleister let out a huge series of moans as Prisha played with him, fucking him into oblivion. It was too much, and as she began to rasp out irregular breaths, Aleister felt his dick explode.

"Oh, god, you filthy little blood sucking bitch!" Prisha yelled as Aleister felt her spasm and flutter across his cock. Her juices ran down his balls and soaked his knickers as Aleister filled her cunt with his semen. Aleister pulsed into her as she thrashed around on top of him, frantically slamming herself against his dick. She slumped forward, gripping his shoulders and sucking his neck.

"Ahhh! Stop! St- Unghh! Mistress! I'm cumming! Ahhhh!"

He keep screaming, trying to stop himself, but his cock couldn't bear it anymore. The thrill of her love bite intensified his orgasm, and Aleister fainted as the waves rode over his feminised form. Even then, Aleister's cock keep on wincing, shooting his tasty, thick semen into Prisha's vagina, overflowing her feminine hole and dirty the bed. Suddenly, Prisha did something unexpected, she opened a portal inside her vagina connecting directly to Aleister's asshole. And by doing that she made Aleister fuck his own anus.

"Mhnnn!? A-ahh! Mistress Prisha!? This gets too much!" He shouted, but Prisha use her two hands to hugs from from above, while his dick still wrecking her tight pussy and his own anus. And Prisha put her face close to his neck.

"I told you, I will make you scream and cry." Prisha seductively whisper from his back, then she gently bite his neck. Aleister moaned more, so sensually. He must be sooo overwhelmed now with his semen going so deep to his own rectum.

"Mistress! N-no! I... Cannot... A... Ahhh! Mistress!" Aleister squirm on the bed uncontrollably with a delightfully adorable voice. This went on for over 10 minutes before Prisha satisfied.

Watching everything for sidelines, Giselle finally stand up, walk past the dirty, cum-stained part of the bed sheet and freed Aleister from his bondage. He gasped as he can move his arm again, and he brush the reddened part where the rope tied him.

"Now bend down. Clean the cum from the bed." Giselle ordered. He turn to her with a little pout.

"...Fine, you pervert." Aleister said as he answer in a VERY tsundere-styled response.

So, he did it obediently. Aleister get to all fours position like a real bitch and start licking his own semen stain out of the bed. Giselle hold on to his hips, then use her both hands to grope, squish his smooth, plump buttock. She kiss it, she lick it, then she slap it. Aleister moaned sharply.

"Mistress Giselle!?" He asked.

"I said I will spank you. But now you'll need to do it while you keep licking, so be careful on not to choke~" Giselle said playfully.

"But-"

Giselle smack Aleister petty butt again, making him moan like a whore again.

"Continue." She commanded. Aleister just nod, and get back to his kneel on all-fours position again, head lowered inches from the bed, licking his own stain of cumshot, while Giselle spank him once more.

"I will not stop until you lick clean every drop of your delicious semen." Giselle said before she continue.

Again, again, Aleister moan, his body reacts to her hitting him, but he didn't stop his licking. Minutes to minutes, dozens of spanking happen, until he finally manage to clean the bed sheet out of his semen. Instead, it's now drenched with his saliva.

When Giselle stopped, Aleister's butt is now reddened. That's probably over thirty hits, through most of it done with consideration, instead of full force, because they don't want this sex roleplay to actually hurt him.

"Good, boy, you did it. Although... I don't think we should end this yet.

Giselle lift Aleister small body up with a care, and position him as he lay down the bed, facing up now. She crawl to him, and kiss his cheek. His face is still red, hot, sweating, wet with tears and saliva. His eyes halfway closed.

"You're exhausted, eh? I did you really hard, right? But this is not the end. I want you to cum as well."

"M... Mistress... I got no more strength to do that..." Aleister replied, still panting.

"Mistress will makes you do so. You just stay still, be a good slave and enjoy your final punishment."

Giselle brought up the rope again, and tied Aleister's hands above his head, then tied it again so it's bound to the bed frame. After done, Giselle observe Aleister's helpless, weak self as he run out of strength, and now tied in such way. With a smirk, Giselle lean down to him...

"You love it when your Mistress grope you and force you to cum, right? I will do it now. You can go on and scream, cry, struggle. That will makes it more fun."

Now... How should I makes him cum...?

Ahh, I can use that!

Giselle step down from the bed and reached the drawer. There it is... A soft, squishy sex toy in fleshy beige color. A pocket pussy, or what many called "onahole" instead.

Giselle return back to the bed, leaning down close to his ear, and whisper...

"Guess what I'll use to milk your slutty penis, boy whore ~" Giselle kissed his cheek, and Aleister didn't answer, only breathing heavily, closing his eyes as if waiting. It means, he surrender his body and let Giselle use him as she please, as what he said earlier.

Giselle get Aleister's small cock into her hands, it's in trippy border between raging hard and flaccid, running out of stamina. Giselle can easily peel off the adhesive band now, removing the pink egg vibrator... And with a mischievous lust, she slide in the pocket to his cock! Instantly, his body jolted, almost as if like he get tickled.

"Nyaa!? T...the onahole? Mistress Giselle, not that one! I can't handle that right- Nyaaaa!?"

Giselle ignore his protest and squish his cock with it, jerking his dick, making sure that he can feel the tight artificial pussy in his cute penis. Giselle love how sensitive it is. There's no way he could ever bear on having sex as the top, but the best part is that his top that's her, instead can tease his cock like this. Femboy's cock is the best to play with!

Aleister moaning gets loud, he struggle to break free, his legs try to flail me but Giselle hold it down with her two legs spreading above him, while she work on milking his cock.

"Your little cock is always so ticklish, it's so cute~ Can you feel it now? Your Mistress force you into orgasm. It's your favorite pu-nish-ment~" Giselle smiled and watch how Aleister struggle to keep on, his moaning changed to an adorable whine and whimper, his tail even sticks out in the tension.

...What if... I also touch his touch? It's his second most sensitive erogenous zone. That ought gives him the maximum sensation of orgasm!

Giselle right hand pulled his tail and yank it, props to see Aleister scream, crying loudly, and his body shaking. Each seconds, Giselle pump his cute little cock with the onahole, milking out his precum. His body get tense, his tail's fur raised, his pointy ears lowered in complete submission, and there's a time where he's screaming in such delight. Heh, are you in dry orgasm, Aleister? Don't worry, I will makes you cum for real, soon.

Squishing the pocket pussy tightly, Giselle jack off her slave cock as hard as she can. Aleister's moan and struggle gets crazy. In pure ecstasy, driven only by pleasure, stimulated beyond his resistance, his mind breaks and he surrender, unable to keep on and now wanting to cum so, so, soooo much~

In seconds, he came. The pulsing beat of his ejaculation felt through the pocket. Giselle can see his warm, sticky semen fills the artificial pussy as his body tremble, struggle, stretching from legs to neck, his mouth hangs open, tongue sticking out, and eyes shut close in tears, with his face goes red and warm breath visible coming in his panting.

"Oh god... This is way too fucking arousing... I'm joining in too."

Without pulling the onahole, Giselle fit in her dildo inside Aleister asshole, resulting gushing, slippery noisy as the cum spilled out.

"Ohhh... So fucking good... Ahhh... I'm using your semen as my masturbation lube."

Giselle start moving her hand, pleasure crawling into her back. Fuuuck this is so good! Giselle lose her temperance and went all out, shoving the pocket pussy up and down to her slave's slutty dick, immediately awakening Aleister as he moaned again.

"M... Mistress... What are you... I... I just ejaculated... Please no... It's still... Ahh... so... sensitive..."

Aleister barely can protest anymore, as he already drenched wet in his sweat all over. His saliva drool to the side, his teary eyes remain closed, and his body try to fight back, but all that he can do is to bear the ticklish stimulation. You know that feeling when you just came, your cock still wet with your semen, and you keep on? Oh yeah, that's an unbearable pleasure, hard to keep on.

"Mistress! Too much! I- I can't keep on!" He screamed in mix of orgasmic cry, and desperate struggle to bear all the stimulation. Aleister never ever keep on when he's forced into orgasm. It's the most effective "punishment" to break his resistance.

"I will not stop until I cum, doesn't matter how much you scream." Giselle lean down and smirk on him. Aleister looks so, so embarrassed now and it's beyond adorable. He's all wet with sweat, saliva and tears. He struggle, but exhausted, starting to gives in to the pleasure, but his sensitive cock is too ticklish that he couldn't stay still.

"Mistress... cum... please cum... ahhhh... cum..."

Aleister desperate begging is the hottest thing that he can give to her right now. She smirked and jam on the pocket pussy as hard as she can. If you love my dildo so much, then I'll give you my love juice. Here it comes!

Giselle jack off roughly, making their cock rubs together, faster and faster, until the inevitable warmth fills her. Giselle body tremble as her pussy juices flows out, and when it shoot out, it explode all over inside, flowing, gushing, spilling and makes a mess to their lower body parts, even the bed as well. Again and again it spilled out as Giselle keep moving the onahole up and down, then get weaker, as her moan gets subtle, and what's left is just hot air from her mouth.

Ahhh... Well, damn it... the game today went into such a mess... But it's worth it.

Giselle glance at Aleister, that's still panting, eyes halfway closed, stained wet and wasted, unable to even move a finger, yet his body wince, and his tongue lull out. He looks messy but sexy, like a naughty little bitch after that just get banged until he lose his mind and just be there for a cumdump... Giselle think she has gone too far.

"Aleister... hey, can you hear me?" Giselle lean down and whisper to him, caressing on his head. Aleister weakly responded, as if he's halfway asleep.

"Mhmm...? Mistress...? Are you done...?" Aleister asked softly, his mouth drooling.

"Yeah. Are you alright? I didn't break you, right?" Giselle nuzzle on his head, kissing his forehead.

"Mhmm... I enjoyed it anyway... I love you and your rough punishment, my mistress ~" Aleister weakly reply as he nuzzle back.

"I love you too, my precious little kitty~" Giselle kissed his cheek and embrace him as she lay beside him, pulling him to her comfort.

In that moment, soon they find them drifting away, too exhausted to even speak. Both of them just snuggle together in the warmth.

"My turn, go lay on the end of the bed, knees up." Prisha pushed him towards the bedroom.

Aleister did as he was told, the semen still clinging to his cock. Precum seeped from his hole. He got on the bed as commanded with his feet right at the edge, his cock and balls exposed. His cock pulsed with anticipation.

"Close your eyes and keep them closed," she said.

All went dark as he closed his eyes. He could hear her come into the bedroom, "Good boy." Prisha climbed onto the bed and began wrapping a cloth around his head covering his eyes.

Once done, Aleister opened his eyes but couldn't see a thing. She then took hold of his hand, then his other one and pulled them up over his head. She began tying his wrists together, then tied them above his head. She moved a bit next to him to slide off the bed, stopped. He felt her lips come to him and they kissed sensually for a few seconds. She pulled away and got off the bed.

Prisha touch was like electric as she touched his masochistic balls, pulling them away from his body. Then he could feel the rope being tied around, pulling his balls down and tightening the skin. Prisha looped the rope around 5 or 6 times till there was no more skin left to wrap. His balls felt so exposed, throbbing, open for whatever ministrations his Mistress could conjure up.

"I want you to know, I'm not mad at you. I'm going to hurt these cute balls of your," she said as she wrapped her hand around the boy testicles and squeezed, "but only because I need to, and I know you'll enjoy it." She let go briefly and like a jolt of lightning, her hand slapped the poor boy's trapped balls sending waves of pain and pleasure coursing through his androgynous adolescent body.

"Ah, A-A-Aaa! It's so good, Mistress!" Aleister gasped loudly.

Prisha pushed the sissy boy's knees back apart and slapped his erotic balls hard, over and over. She continued smacking his balls until he could take it any more, whimpering he struggled to close his legs and stop the pain. He twisted to the side and pulled his knees up.

Prisha stopped the assault on his balls. Through his panting he could hear her satisfied noises. Her fingers once again found his balls which tied up were constantly exposed. She caressed them softly. Her other finger found his anus. She pushed her finger in slightly.

One, then two knuckles. She continued to finger his ass and massage the balls she had just punished for a couple minutes. Pulling her finger out, she bent over and kissed and licked the tight reddened skin on his balls. The pleasure was exhilarating for him. He started to moan a bit. She pulled away and pulled on his knees again. He brought his knees back up and opened his legs for her again.

"Good." She began caressing his balls lightly and noted the pre-cum dripping from his cock.

She gathered some things up as Aleister shuttered in anticipation. Then her hand wrapped around his pulsing cock, stroking him to an almost painful hard on. More pre-cum oozed from the tip.

She took a condom and unwrapped it, "This will definitely feel weird." She then picked up one of the smaller sounds and unraveled the condom over it's length.

Prisha brought the condom covered sound to the tip of his cock and began pushing the condom into his cock. It didn't feel as weird as he expected but he still moaned as the sound traveled down his cock. She used a smaller sized one so it slipped right into his well worked hole.

After it had descended all the way she carefully pulled the sound free of the condom. Now it felt weird.

"Perfect," she commented at her handiwork. The condom was all the way into his cock so that just the opening of it remained, "Now let's see what we can put in there."

As if she had this all planned out she held his rock hard cock in place and began pushing something stiff into his cock.

He moaned out as she pushed it into his hole. "We fit 3 q-tips in here before, let's see what we can fit now," she said as he felt a second one pushing into his hole.

The condom made it easier as the second one slid in. She stroked his cock a few times as he heard and felt lubricant being squeezed into the hole in the condom.

As she pushed the third one is, Aleister began moaning loudly as his urethra was expanded to fit it's girth. He gripped the sheets tightly as she pushed the little torture device into him. "Can't wait to push the fourth in now," she snickered and she stroked his cock a bit more.

Aleister spread his legs a bit more offering his pee hole to her willingly. She eagerly took the invitation and started easing the fourth one into his pee hole. Aleister grunted as he felt the pain in his urethra as the q-tip was pushed into his hole. It felt bizarrely good, her hand around his cock, the other one pushing in the q-tip. Aleister felt like he was going to orgasm from the kinkiness of it. If only his mistress was stroking him a little more. He felt his orgasm building and was his moaning became more and more pronounced.

Prisha finished pushing the fourth one in and noticed her slave boy pleasure. She smirked as she stroked his cock some more, up and down his whole shaft. She could see his body tighten as the orgasm was nearing. But just before he was about to cum she let go of his cock, made a fist and punched him right in his sperm filled scrotum.

Aleister howled as he closed his legs and gasped in pain and frustration. "You don't get to come yet. And you didn't ask," she sounded actually mad.

Prisha lightly pried at his legs and he opened them again for her, "And you might not get to come at all now today just because of that." For a second time she punched him in the balls, but not quite as hard. Aleister grunted again but kept his legs open for her. His orgasm had completely past, between the pain in his urethra and the pain in his balls.

Aleister suffered it willingly. He could then feel the tugging of the q-tips as she pulled them free of his condom filled cock. She was nice enough to pull the first two out one at a time and the then the last two out together.

"And now the main course, I've been thinking about this one for a few days," Aleister could hear his Mistress fiddling with something making a noise he couldn't quite figure out.

Turned out they were frozen peas and she began feeding them into the condom one by one. They were cold and he moaned out as he felt like they were freezing the inside of his cock as she pushed them in and helped them descend into his cock. One by one she pushed them in. His hungry urinating hole ate them up quickly.

As she pushed each one into his hole, she then pushed it down his shaft as far as it would go... and she just kept repeating the process. After a while, the cold sensation went away. His fingers found his way to his nipples and he squeezed them, pleasure emanating from every part of his small body.

After what seemed like 10 minutes she unceremoniously announced that she thought his cock was full. And it sure felt like it. He guessed she was able to push over 100 into his cock. He could feel them struggling for space in his urethra.

"Lay down on the bed properly," she said and he turned himself on the bed. He heard her undo her skirt and then it hitting floor and climbed up on top of him. His cock was already pressing into her wet folds as she bent over him, kissing him deeply. His hands came up to her full breasts and began caressing them and pinching her nipples slightly.

They kissed rather passionately for way longer than he expected. As she pulled away from his lips, her other lips descended upon his cock. She moaned louder than he did as his manhood pushed into her depths. The peas creating and exhilarating sensation for her. She sat on him and began gyrating on his body. Her fingers were down at her pussy playing with her clitoris. His hands found her tits and nipples and played with them as she liked.

It only took perhaps a minute and Prisha's pussy was clenching on his full cock tightly as she moaned and eventually had what sounded like an amazing orgasm. He pinched her nipples tightly through out the whole thing. She was panting as she finished. He gave her nipples one last squeeze, then fondled her breasts softly, "Thank you slave." She bent down and kissed him deeply once more.

"Don't you dare masturbate or cum." She kissed him again. "This cock and balls are mine," she said as she gyrated her hips for emphasis. "You will only cum when I tell you you can," she eased herself off his cock. He moaned knowing she would leave without giving him an orgasm... and thus she owned him.

Prisha got down on her knees between his spread legs. The next thing she pulled out of her little bag of tricks was something that Aleister wasn't sure how to respond to.

It was a long thick rubbery looking worm. It was nearly two feet long and at least a quarter inch wide, if not nearly a half of an inch. It was a bunch of funky colors too, from orange to pink to yellow.

"I found this at a fishing trip, I knew immediately I wanted to push it all the way into your little pee hole."

Prisha had such a wicked grin on her face as she brought it up dangling over his penis. It was tremendously long and thick looking.

"I wonder if there are actually worms this big. Maybe I'll find one some day and we'll use that." She sounded serious.

Another gush of lubricant spilled out from Aleister 's cock as Prisha positioned the tip of the rubbery worm at his pee-hole. She manipulated his hole and worm deftly and pushed the head of the worm into his cock. He gasped at the size. It was the thickness of the biggest sound they'd ever used.

"Mmm, perfect." She said as she began to push the huge worm into his hole. It was stiff enough to be pushed in inch by inch. She seemed to delight in Aleister 's moans as she pushed it in. And it had a long way to go too. Slowly, Prisha fed the worm into Aleister 's cock. The girth of it left Aleister gasping and moaning. It was certainly soft and luckily did not hurt at all, despite it ridges and life-like textures.

He was amazed as he looked down and saw that nearly half had been pushed into his cock. It was then that he could feel it deep in his urethra, passing the part where only the longest sounds reach. The feeling was utterly orgasmic as the Prisha pushed the worm deeper and deeper. He shuttered as he felt the worm find what must have been his bladder.

He had never experienced anything like this. She was obviously delighting in the feelings she was creating in his body. But she wasn't done at all, it still had another six inches or so before it would be all the way in. She had no intentions of stopping at this point, even though it was becoming harder and harder to get the worm to go deeper.

She stopped for a moment and took a few moments to take in the yellowy part of the worm that remained sticking out from his cock. It looked like some alien tentacle was sprouting from his cock. She tugged on the nipple clamps a few times. It was obvious that Aleister was in a world of his own. The torture of his nipples only increased the pleasure the worm was creating deep inside his cock. She wrapped her hand around his rock hard penis and slowly worked his cock up and down. She could feel the worm and how thick it was in his cock.

Now she used both hands to work the worm into his cock. She wanted it all the way in. It took another few minutes as Aleister gasped and moaned with his head rolled back but finally the whole length of the worm was buried deep in his urethra. All two feet. It was then that Aleister noticed that there was a length of string tied to end of the worm.

"Perfect." She said as she got to her feet.

She turned her petite body around and lowered her wet pussy onto his cock, easing his manhood into the sweet folds. The sensations were incredible. The worm inside his cock created feelings of intense pleasure for both, the worm made his cock even harder along her clitoris and the girth of the worm worked the inside of his cock as her pussy enveloped him.

Aleister humped upwards to meet her, thrusting deep into her cunt. She pinched her nipples as she impaled herself. They both moaned deeply awash in pleasure. She road him until she began to tire, though she never found an orgasm through intercourse, it certainly felt good. But it was time for the next stage.

She kneeled down in between his legs again. Her hand came up and started to lightly smack his dangling scrotum sack. He moaned and pushed his body down a bit further and spread his legs as far as he could. She took the invitation to take a little more frustration out on his scrotum, he accepted the pain with moans. With her other hand she found the end of the worm and worked it further into his slutty cock. It went in further much easier.

Prisha pushed it in until the end of the worm was past where his shaft met his body. She stopped smacking his balls and went into her bag again and pulled out a tube of toothpaste. She held the bottle up for him to look at. "This is why I tied you up." She licked the end of his cock, where the string hung out of the tip of his pee hole.

His eyes widened as she opened the toothpaste and put the end of the tube into his pee hole. She pushed it in as far as it would go. Aleister submitted himself to what would come next and could already feel the cool feeling of the toothpaste within his cock.

He mouthed the word 'Please no.' Mistress Prisha shook her head and started to squeeze out the toothpaste directly into his urethra. Aleister gasped as the cool minty cream started to immediately burn inside his slave cock.

Mistress Prisha relentlessly emptied the tube of toothpaste into the poor Aleister cock. The sensation wasn't entirely horrible as the cream pushed into his urethra. It went from cool, to hot to intensely pleasurable. He moaned and panted as she pushed toothpaste deep into his cock. She was surprised he wasn't screaming bloody murder. "Does it hurt?"

"Yes, but it's bearable." He said.

She sorta laughed. "Well I guess that's good, want it in your ass too?"

Aleister shook his head quickly knowing exactly how much that hurt. She shrugged her shoulders and pushed more toothpaste into his cock until he was full up to where the worm was stuck way in his cock. Once his cock was full she put the practically empty tube of toothpaste on the couch and watched as toothpaste oozed from his cock.

"Well, I guess it's time to get my worm back." She tugged on the string. With the slightest pressure the worm started to travel back up his cock. Toothpaste poured from his cock, the burning sensation increased dramatically as the worm forced it's way back out. Aleister began to howl as his tortured cock burned.

"Ahhh! Stop! St- Unghh! Mistress! It's coming out! Ahhhh!"

Now Prisha was beginning to enjoy herself watching Aleister pant and shake from the pain that tore it's way through his femboy's cock. Finally the worm came out of his feminised cock and after a few minutes of tugging and moaning from Aleister , she slowly pulled the rest of it out. It popped out of his slutty cock, toothpaste covered the outside of his whorelike penis, and created intense feelings there too. However, despite the pain, Aleister's penis remained erected the entire time, his balls boiling with cum.

"You should flush out your masochist cock." She said as she started to untie him. When she was done he ran to the bathroom.

When he finally got done and walked back out, she was already gone. There was a note on the table. "Don't dare to ejaculate, I'll know if you do. Prisha."

Giselle grinned and went to her purse and pulled out a couple things that baffled him. One was a rather large bag of fluid. The other one was a small plastic box. "I have always wanted to do this. It's been a dream of mine for over ten years now since a nurse friend of mine mentioned doing it one of her boyfriends in college. Don't worry, she told me exactly what to do. You're probably wondering what it is I'm talking about." She crawled onto the bed between his legs and laid the bag of clear fluid down and opened up the plastic box, "well you see this is a bag with 1000ml of saline in it. And in this box," she continued to talk as she opened an alcohol wipe and applied it to the his scrotum, the sensation was incredibly cool and so erotic, "has needles which I'm going to push into this already cum filled sack of yours, then I'm going to find out exactly how much saline I can empty into your scrotum." He was about to protest but found himself completely turned on. He only shifted his legs a bit wider and offered himself to Mistress Giselle.

"Oh yes, I'm so pleased with you. If you keep this up you might get to cum tonight," she said as she unsnapped her bra and let that fall away. Her perky little tits didn't sag one bit. They stood out, though they were only a big A or small B, but they were perfect. He wanted to pinch her little nipples so bad and tugged against his bonds. She took the needle from the box and attached it to the saline bag. She smiled at Aleister, a ten year fantasy about to be fulfilled. With her left hand she took his scrotum into her hand and held it as her right guided the needle to the wrinkly flesh of his sack.

"Good... relax, Slave Boy relax.." She said in such a loving voice.

"It's okay, darling, it's okay..." she continued watching his erect cock pulsate over the eroticism of the moment.

Aleister looked away and winced as the needle broke skin and pushed into his scrotum, "there there baby, there there. It's in now. I'm going to open up the valve." His breathing became more rapid. His cock throbbed with every beat of his heart. He looked back as she undid the clamp on the tube of the saline bag. Immediately he felt something in his sack. It was an impossible to describe feeling, just something was happening.

Now that the needle was in and the valve was opened, Mistress Giselle smiled at her handiwork. She sat up between his legs and wrapped her long skinny fingers around his manhood. She worked his shaft as he moaned in pleasure. "How does it feel Slave Boy?" she asked sincerely curious.

"Good Mistress Giselle, its weird but it's good. Please fill me," he wished he could be touching her. It teased him so much.

The bag continued to empty and the weird feeling turned to more of a soft burning sensation. He winced as his scrotum started to ache.

She moaned a bit, "mmm look at that Slave Boy, it's starting to fill up. I can see it getting bigger." She started tugging on his nipples again. He was overcome in pleasure. He loved the sensation. He craved more already.

She sat up a bit more and leaned down to kiss his lips as her finger nails still pinched his extremely sensitive nipples.

They continued their deep passionate kissing for several minutes. The whole time he could feel the dull burning sensation in his scrotum. He was so turned on by what she was doing. He loved experimenting and this was certainly now the most kinky thing he'd ever done. She was so hot, so perfect, so wonderful to him.

Mistress Giselle pulled away from his kiss and looked again between his legs. She looked so elated, "Oh Slave Boy you should see your scrotum, it's huge." It looked like half of the bag was emptied into his sack. She couldn't believe her eyes. The wrinkly skin around his testicles was tight looking, his scrotum was easily the size of softball. His actual testicles weren't visible at all. She got off of the bed and slipped her panties off, leaving only her skirt on. She positioned herself on her knees between his legs again. Her left hand slipped between her legs and she started rubbing her dripping pussy. Aleister tried to look up her skirt the best he could, his cock pulsed. He wanted to ram it right into her hole. Her breasts looked incredible as they shook a bit from her furiously fingering her pussy.

The burning sensation started to increase more as his sack started to fill up so completely. He could feel the weight of it pulling on his skin. His balls felt huge. The sides of his scrotum touched each side of his spread thighs. He moaned as his sack filled, "Fill me, Mistress Giselle..." he whispered to the beautiful female.

She could tell that he was nearing his limit. The saline no longer seemed to be emptying into his sack. She was completely satisfied with how huge his scrotum was. It might've been the size of grapefruit. Perhaps ¾ of the bag of saline had been emptied. She worked her pussy a bit more as she took the needle and pulled it free from his scrotum. From his angle he could just see the top of his scrotum, it looked huge. He wanted to see more, but she practically jumped on top of him. She started kissing him ferociously, he kissed her back with equal enthusiasm.

Her tongue darted into his mouth and he bit at it and her lips. She was so seductive. This was beyond the sexiest thing to ever happen.

After their quick make out session, Mistress Giselle undid the bonds that held his wrists. She let him touch his hugely bloated scrotum since he could see hit well. He was shocked at how huge it was.

"Get on your knees my Slave Boy," she said as she leaned back onto hers. "Feel the weight of your scrotum darling."

He fumbled a bit and the moment he lifted his huge sack off of the bed he could feel it's tremendous size and weight. It had to have weighed a pound or two. He winced as he got to his knees. He had to keep his knees so wide as the girth of his sack prevented him from even closing his legs.

Once up though, he used his chance and touched Mistress Giselle's hard little nipples. He immediately pinched them into his fingers, harder then he normally would. Her head seemed to roll back a bit as she moaned. They were hard little nipples, they seemed so eager to be hurt. She thrust her chest out for his crushing fingers, moaning the whole time. With her head rolled back a bit, he leaned in and started kissing the side of her neck. His fingers continued to squeeze her nipples as his mouth bit and sucked the soft silky skin of her neck. She was lost in her own little world of pleasure, the pain from her nipples sending shock waves through the rest of her body. Her pussy leaked.

She let him have his way a bit, a reward for letting her finally fill a man's sack. She kept her little titties thrust out to so his fingers could continue to work her hard little nipples. She totally caught him off guard, though. His legs were spread, his fingers and mouth busy. She brought her hand back and in a quick motion slapped him hard on his bloated scrotum. He cried out in pain, let go of her nipples and stopped his kissing.

"That's it Slave Boy, I know you can take it. Keep your legs spread for me," her voice was so soothing, he completely surrendered to her. She brought her hand back and slapped him hard again. He winced again, between the huge weight of his sack and her slaps it was an incredible mixture of pain. He held onto her mostly for balance as she continued to slap his grapefruit sized sack. He rested his head upon her shoulder, wincing, moaning and gasping at each and every hit, but he would let her do whatever she desired.

After several incredibly painful minutes, Mistress Giselle stopped the assault on his bloated scrotum. He held her and thanked her, "You did so well darling. Now lay back again. I want to do one more thing I've never done." He had surrendered to her long ago and would be compliant on whatever else she wanted to do. Such was the way of a submissive male who loved to be dominated. She was just what he was looking for.

He struggled to lay back down, his gigantic sack made even the simplest of movements incredibly hard. He resumed the same position she first put him in. As a reward, she stood up on the bed, undid the zipper of her skirt and let it fall to her ankles. There seriously wasn't an ounce of fat on her. She was fucking gorgeous. Aleister had forgotten all about the saline in his scrotum, the pain of the needle, her vigorous ball slapping and her nipple pinching. He was lost in her beauty. She was fully shaven and her pussy looked perfect, small and delicate. She shifted her hip to one side as to accentuate her curves.

She held up her hand, extended out her pinky finger and grinned. He really wasn't looking though, as her little titties and sexy cunt drew nearly all of his attention. Once again she kneeled between his legs. She grabbed his cock with her right hand and took the pinky of her left hand and touched his pee hole. The amount of precum was abundant and she pulled up on the skin of his cock. She wet the end of her finger in his lubricant and started to push it into his little hole. He grabbed the sheets of the bed and held his breath. He loved playing with sounds so his pee hole was used to intrusions, but this was something else entirely.

"There there, Slave Boy, I know you can take it darling," she said as she pushed down on his cock, her little finger was in up to her first knuckle. With a wiggle and a push there was a pop as her finger pushed in up to her second knuckle. Aleister winced and shuttered as she fingered his little hole.

"One more knuckle darling. You want to make me happy right?" She said in that soothing sexy voice of hers. He nodded and braced himself. She ran her hand up and down the hard shaft of his cock, pushing more precum towards the end. It felt so good having his little hole fucked. He immediately wanted her whole finger in. He pushed his hips forward as she applied pressure on her finger.

"Yes darling, we're almost there, you're doing so good..." She said. With an audible pop, her finger slammed into his cock. Aleister moaned loudly as the last inch or so of her little finger pushed its way into his cock. The feeling was euphoric.

"Thank you Mistress Giselle," Aleister said as if winded. He gyrated his hips as if fucking her finger back. She smiled as she wiggled her finger inside of his hole. She leaned forward again and kissed him deeply. He returned it passionately. They kissed for about minute as she pushed and pulled with her finger, fucking his pee hole. He moaned in unison. Nobody had ever fucked his little hole before.

She pulled away from his kiss and leaned back. Her finger made his pee hole look huge as it expanded for her finger. His huge scrotum almost looked sexy. She wished it was all cum. She would let him fuck her now. And by what his email said, he would take her ass. She wished he could empty the whole contents of his scrotum into her ass.

She pulled her finger free of his urethra admiring the gaping hole it left, a little precum oozed out, "Thank you little one, I definitely think you've earned an orgasm." She smiled.

She looked at him with lust in her eyes as she turned around on the bed and showed him her sexy little ass. Immediately he went from sub to Dom, from prey to predator, from boy to man.

He got to his knees quickly, the weight of his scrotum only increased his lust. He wrapped his left arm around her, finding her hard little nipple. He crushed it with his powerful fingers sending waves of pleasure through her whole body, she cried out as she arched her back. His other hand found her pussy which was overflowing with lubricant. He used her own juice and spread it all over the rosebud of her ass. When there wasn't enough he pushed into her pussy with two fingers and pulled out its juices. He lathered up the tight hole of her ass and then pushed one, then two fingers in. She gasped at the anal assault, but shifted her hips to make the access as easy as she could for him.

In a quick, almost primal movement, Aleister lined the recently fucked head of his cock with her tight anal entrance and pushed forward. His long, slender cock pushed into her ass easily. She cried out as her ass gave way to his hard cock. The feeling of her hot ass was out of this world. His hand found her other nipple and now both he crushed both of her sensitive little nubs with his fingers.

In long motions, he pulled his cock nearly out of her tight ass then slammed it back in up to the hilt. His huge heavy scrotum pulled at the skin of his cock which only added to the pleasure. He felt her ass gripping his cock tighter and tighter as he pinched her nipples more. All at once the world stopped. His fingers pinched her nipples, his cock was buried in her ass and the two cried out as an orgasm wracked both of their bodies. His prostate pulsated as it worked a huge amount of cum out of his cock deep into her bowels. She shook and cried out as his fingers worked her nipples, the real source of her earth shattering orgasm. Aleister's cock continued to pump cum into her ass until his orgasm finally subsided, three days worth of it. It felt like a gallon.

Finally the waves of pleasure were over as Aleister pulled his cock from her ass and he sat back on the bed again, taking the weight off of his scrotum. Mistress Giselle fell forward onto all fours as she recovered from her orgasm. Aleister watched as her gaping little rosebud pushed a bit of his cum out as it dribbled down past her perfect little pussy. He reached up with one hand and caressed her pussy then pushed a finger in. Her cunt was tight. He wished he had it in him to make a second go around. He wanted to slam his cock in her pussy as well, but that would have to wait. She moaned as he touched her, still riding the aftershocks of her orgasm.

"Thank you Mistress Giselle," he said softly. She turned and smiled at him, moving her body up next to his and laid at his side. Aleister held her tightly and kissed her on the forehead, "Thank you. Mistress!"

---

Three days latter

"Lady Prisha, how is Rory's condition progressing?" Itami asked, his eyes dark circles from lack of sleep.

His sleep was disturbed for many reasons, many of which were inappropriate because the apostles were quite noisy in their carnal games.

Glancing at the man, Prisha sighed. "Let me be blunt, it's not good." Pointing to the medical record and biomagical analysis, she said. "The nature of the infection is neither biomagical nor metaphysical but a very high level curse that rewrites causality."

"What does it mean, Miss Prisha?" Itami looked completely confused.

"It means trouble," Prisha explained. "The infection isn't infecting her cells in the traditional sense but rather rewriting the reality itself, it doesn't infect Rory but replace her body, part by part. That is why none of my concoctions have worked. The curse erased any attempt to stop it."

The atmosphere in the room became somber and gloomy. Everyone here was worried about Rory, she was like a family member, an annoying one sometimes, but family nevertheless.

"Do you have any solution, Lady Prisha?" Giselle asked straight to the point.

Warily, she nodded. "There is a way but it will be controversial so I need us all to agree. Have you heard of the forbidden spell Impure World Reincarnation ?"

The apostles' eyes widened in shock. "You intend to..."

"Yes, and it is the most realistic way."

Couldn't follow up with the conversation on magic, Itami asked. "What does that mean ?"

Took pity on the magic illiterated man. Aleister gave Itami a brief explanation. "The Impure World Reincarnation is a spell that binds the soul of a deceased person to a living vessel, restoring them as they were in the last moments of their lives.

Before this technique can be performed, the user must first acquire some of the DNA of the person they intend to reincarnate. The soul of the intended reincarnated must also reside in the afterworld; souls trapped in a seal, for example, cannot be reincarnated so long as they reside there. A living sacrifice is also required for the reincarnated soul to use as a vessel.

To actually perform the Impure World Reincarnation, the DNA of the person to be reincarnated is smeared on a special grimoire. Once the grimoire is activated, the remains spread out in the form of a special seal with the living sacrifice in the centre.

Then dust and ash encase the sacrifice's body, giving them the same appearance that the reincarnated had at the time of their death; the process is apparently painful for the sacrifice.

The sacrifice's mana signature is completely overridden with the mana of the one being reincarnated. Although the sacrifice is still technically alive so long as the technique is active, their body will never again be theirs and the body will die when the reincarnated soul is released."

Still confused, Itami asked. "But...Rory isn't dead!"

Sharply grasping the nature of the problem, Lelei said. "What Lady Prisha wants to do is to use Rory's own body to reincarnate Her Holiness. Her Holiness body is slowly turning into Pandemonium so we can use it as the living sacrifice. Overwriting Pandemonium's soul with the soul of Her Holiness Rory, this is ingenious, Reverend Prisha!"

Looking unconvinced, Giselle questioned. "But doesn't the spell require the target soul? Pandemonium's curse is overwriting Rory's soul, where do we get the soul for reincarnation ?"

"From here," Prisha pointed at Itami as the man looked confused. "Rory has put a small part of her soul in him."

What - !?

"Rory used a spell called Self-Resurrection on you, right?"

Yes - !?

Itami reminisced when Rory cast the spell on him. Rory had said that this spell could heal and even revive him if he was heavily injured or killed. The spell was a gift from her to save him and now he would use it to save her, what a twist of fate.

"The spell uses a small part of Rory's soul to cast," Looking directly at Itami, she said sternly. "Now is the dangerous part, I need a fully developed soul to cast Impure World Reincarnation, luckily souls can grow with the help of my magic but I need a vessel to let them grow. That vessel is you. But having two fully developed souls in the same body are dangerous because one can destroy the other. In this case because Rory soul is much more powerful than you, your soul might be destroyed. Are you sure you want to do this ?"

Without missing a beat, Itami replied. "Yes, just do it!"

Temple City of Pahaux, Lustria, Terra Australis, Falmart

The cartographers of the Holy Darwinian Empire depict the boundaries of its dominions through colorful borders on exquisitely detailed maps. They paint an understanding of an Empire whose power and sovereignty extends universally across its lands, over plains, rivers and forests. Its rule is clearly defined and delineated between various kings and nobles.

The Empire portrayed on these maps does not exist in reality.

There are places in the heart of civilization, where to stray too far beyond the protective watch of city walls, or to take just a few steps off the well-tread paths of the Imperial highways is to enter another realm entirely. Its borders will not be found on any map, but they can be felt.

Any traveler who ventures too far from the light of civilization will feel a growing sense of unease that turns to dread before a final realization that they are no longer in the dominions of the Holy Emperor, but a kingdom of shadows, the realm of the lizardmen.

The ageless fight against the Ruinous powers is one great universal effort. Chaos is fought not only on the battlefield, though vast armies and mighty champions have marched against it, but in the soul of every living creature. Many have triumphed over the dark powers through force of arms, rare are those who have triumphed through force of will. But in the jungles of Lustria, came a warrior who achieved both, not just once, but countless times.

In the ancient continent of Terra Australis can be found the ruined temple-cities of what outsiders call the Lizardmen. These are the last remaining relics of those who first stood against the forces of Chaos. Within the ruins of decrepit Ziggurats and jungle-entangled plazas, the reptilian soldiers of the Lizardmen and their Slaan masters long ago stood firm against innumerable hordes of daemons and twisted creatures.

It was upon these tropical battlefields that some of the most important blows to the enemy were struck, great sacrifices were made, and the Great Hunter Oxyotl was forged.

Within the symbiotic mix of races collectively referred to as the Lizardmen, Oxyotl emerged from the breeding pools a Skink, one of the smallest and most numerous subspecies.

A member of the comparatively rare chameleonic breed, he was capable of nearly perfectly camouflaging himself into any environment. Yet he was neither particularly skilled nor exceptionally brave, with no trait making him stand out within his fellow chameleons or the wider hierarchy of Skink society.

When the forces of the Dark Gods descended into Lustria during a Great Invasion of Chaos, Oxyotl was one of untold thousands that took part in the defence of the temple-city of Pahaux.

As the hordes of daemons swept over the city walls and advanced district by district, the defenders were ultimately forced to fall back to the base of their great pyramid.

Here Oxyotl and his kin found themselves standing as the very last line of defence with nowhere left to retreat. In the final moments of the siege their Slaan Mage attempted to conjure a spell of such fury that the demonic host might be banished. But his efforts were thwarted by the fickle nature of the Winds of Magic and the great spell the Slann had summoned instead spiralled out of control. It tore through the fabric of reality and pulled the temple's defenders directly into the hellish landscape of the Realm of Chaos.

It is unknown how Oxyotl survived this cataclysmic experience, but he awoke in the twisted land of the Ruinous Powers, far from Lustria and all civilisation.

His natural camouflage allowed him to pass unseen through those territories, and through instinct and cunning, eluded or ambushed any would-be pursuers. How precisely he did so in a place where the laws of physics themselves are bound to the whims of the Chaos Gods cannot be said, but he accomplished what few other beings have ever attempted.

Time flows differently within the Realm of Chaos, and how long Oxyotl struggled to escape it cannot be determined. A single moment of time can become an eternity and within this timeless nightmare, he endured torments, temptations, and witnessed the full horror of Chaos.

Oxyotl traveled down many forgotten paths, branching tendrils of reality and is said to have even walked within the fabled lost city of the Old Ones.

Finally however, he found a route back to Lustria.

When he emerged from the Chaos Wastes, 7000 years had passed.

His travels beyond the veil of conventional reality have changed this Skink at his core.

Where the minds of scholars and wizard-philosophers have broken under mere contemplation of the Realm of Chaos, Oxyotl's psyche is somehow fully intact.

Whether it was the drive to return home or the ingrained hatred of Chaos that all the Lizardmen display, he now displays an understanding of the Ruinous Powers more complete than any other.

Oxyotl has seen the vast lands of the Realm of Chaos: the fetid Plantations of Nurgle, the twisted Palace of Slaanesh, the immense Crystal Labyrinth of Tzeentch and the imposing Brass Keep of Khorne.

He has seen beyond the curve of spacetime and gazed into a wide sea of futures that the world has since faced or has yet to do so. But he did far more than bear mute witness, he made these places his hunting ground.

Today Oxyotl is a legend amongst the scattered Lizardmen societies and those few others with insights into that mysterious race. Honored as 'He That Hunts Unseen' by his kin, Oxyotl is a fierce spectre to all that would harm his ancient homeland. Completely invisible even for a Chameleon Skink, he has perfected a unique method of warfare, relying only on a flurry of magic darts from his golden Blowpipe of P'Toohee. A growing clan of other Chameleon Skinks have gathered around Oxyotl, recognising him as the greatest hunter and the one true king of their kind.

Where he travels now, so follows a small army of Lizardmen, each a hardened veteran hunter of Lustria, each as ruthless and adept at disappearing into the thick foliage of the jungle.

Oxyotl's deeds are many and notorious, with a growing reputation as deadly as the jungle itself.

Countless servants of the ruinous powers are said to have perished by his hand, without even realizing they were being hunted. Even Tzara'riador the Shimmering, a Greater Daemon of Tzeentch, was laid low, materializing into the mortal realms only to be met with a rain of magic darts.

How Oxyotl can so perfectly track the servants of the Ruinous Powers remains a mystery.

Some say it a lingering remnant of his sojourn within the Realm of Chaos, whilst others insist that it is simply the skills of a talented hunter honed over untold generations.

To the ruinous powers of the Dark Gods, Lustria stands in mocking defiance over their failed invasions. A victory here would be a victory over all, and the forces of Chaos have never stopped their incursions into the Holy Land. Yet in Lustria even the great champions of the dark gods, enhanced with every manner of unholy gift, might feel a growing sense of unease.

A realization that beneath the jungle canopy, they are being hunted.

They might catch a glimpse of a shadow in the dark, a flicker of movement at the edge of their vision.

They might cry out in sudden agony, only for their screams, to be silenced forever. By none other than the Great Oxyotl.

XXXXXXXXXXX

So great was his reputation that setting up a face-to-face meeting with the Great Oxyotl was nearly impossible as no one dared to interfere in his hunt or travel deep into the jungles of Lustria.

The very fact that Princess Yves Sertillanges was able to put this off was an impressive feat of its own.

It wasn't easy, Yves had to admit.

The emerald green haired princess had to use all the connections the Royal Family and even the Holy Order had to arrange this meeting. It would be no exaggeration to say that the amount of bribes and favors offered to the Lizardmen was enough to buy a country.

That showed how important this meeting was for the Emperor.

Yves had to secure an alliance with Oxyotl at all costs, for the sake of the Empire in general and for the sake of the Imperial Army in particular.

Strut proudly along the ancient corridors of Pahaux into the great throne room of 'He That Hunts Unseen', there lay the Great Hunter awaited in silence.

From the dim rays of light shining through the dense canopy, the Eighth Princess was able to make out a green silhouette sitting in the center of the golden throne. The atmosphere surrounding that silhouette had a divine eerie feeling that was hard to explain.

Without wasting a moment, Yves dropped into a deep curtsy, her back knee inches above ground. A quite scandalous gesture for an Imperial princess, such an act of absolute respect reserved only for the Emperor or a Grandmaster of the Holy Order.

"Oh, Great Oxyotl. It's my honor to meet you."

"The honor is mine, child." The green silhouette replied dryly as he stepped down from the throne.

Yves flinched at the disrespect but now was not the time to cause an international incident. Not when the fate of the Empire hanged in the balance.

Peering through her extended eyelashes, Yves bit the inside edge of her lip as the green silhouette walked towards her. The green silhouette stopped before her, his eyes narrowed and unreadable as he scanned her.

"You are welcome to join our luncheon. After all, your Father is very generous."

That statement was nowhere near reassuring, but Yves inclined her head respectfully. "Thank you, Great Oxyotl."

"Guard, escort the Princess to her room to rest."

In her bedroom, Yves diligently worked on her magic typewriter through the various military reports. She wasn't a fool to touch anything too sensitive, even if it was all in the realm of legality.

Privacy was lacking under any noble's roof, especially a royal's.

"Luncheon will be ready soon, Your Highness," A guard interrupted from the door.

"Can you send up one of the maids?" she asked.

A few minutes later, a young chameleonic girl, roughly her own sister's age, with a long prehensile tail bowed in the doorway.

"How may I assist you, my lady?"

"Your Highness, not a lady," Yves corrected gently. "The gold and red dress in the blue bag please."

The girl nodded and hurriedly went to work, removing the dress from its protective covering and laying it on the bed.

No longer would she wear soft pinks and other pastels reminiscent of youth. Flowers embroidered in bold red wrapped around from the midsection growing larger as it reached upwards, until the high collar and very top of her shoulder was drenched in a vermillion red. Soft silk draped over her and the golden skirt settled modestly above her knees but it had two high-cut leg slits showing off her shapely long legs.

If her siblings knew she wore this, they might succumb to a heart attack.

Unable to stop her vibrant blush, she pulled on her boots and stared at the mirror.

Yves barely recognized herself.

"How should I do your hair, Your Highness?" the servant girl asked.

"I have it." She set the hair pin down on the table and pulled out the emerald dragon hair pin.

Steadily, she combed out her hair and debated whether she would truly be so audacious. But if there was one thing the Great Hunter respected, it was strength. To make up for her earlier weak impression, she couldn't falter now.

She only hoped that her actions wouldn't be misconstrued.

"Your Highness," the servant girl hissed, scandalized.

"Like I said"-she smiled, dabbing bright red stain on her lips-"I have it."

XXXXXXXXXXX

From the outside the dining room looked rustic, cheerful and inviting. Hardwooden planks and marble pillars made up most of the building's outer structure.

The maid stopped in front of a heavily used, wooden door and bowed deeply. "Your Highness."

It was as charming inside as it was on the outside. Rounded, wooden beams supported the upper floor and the candles attached to them. The walls were packed with all sorts of travel memorabilia, most likely all collected by the Great Hunter himself.

"Princess Yves," the Great Hunter greeted as she stepped inside. His eyes flicked to the lady's maid behind her.

"Great Oxyotl."

"No need for that," he said, stopping Yves before she could curtsy properly. "You are a guest of mine,"

That meant nothing, your reputation of treating guests was infamous across the land!

"You're dismissed, girl," the Great Hunter said, and the maid fled before he could say anything else.

Yves dipped her head in respect. "You honor me, Great Oxyotl."

He approached slowly, his footsteps deafening. "Yet you chose to fashion yourself in the traditional imperial style, of whom have tried to impose your rule on the land of mine."

"Because I am an Imperial Princess," she challenged and met his protruding eyes. "This is my heritage." The Great Hunter demanded respect, but the sniveling bootlicker would always earn his disdain.

"True — !" Amused, the Great Hunter grabbed a seat at the table.

"Luncheon is served," The chef de cuisine announced as he backed through the door. His attention focused on the large tray delicately balancing in his hands. Two waiters followed after him carrying steaming bowls of soup, fresh salad and dessert.

"Try it, Princess. I hunted them myself." Oxyotl said that with a great deal of pride.

"Bon Appetite!"

The Hors d'Oeuvre was beautiful skin caviar, a food made from seven types of arthropod eggs. Just eating it will enhance the beauty of the skin and its cosmetic effects were great enough to impress Oxyotl.

How considerate of him!

The soup dish was Devil Serpent's bile, a giant, three-eyed serpent with a fearsome looking maw filled with sharp, blood-colored teeth and three bloodshot stalked eyes that give it excellent vision and a ferocious appearance. It is said that the strength of the species varies with the individual, making it a very unpredictable opponent. The strongest Devil Serpents have power on par with the ancient dragon, the legendary and most powerful beasts in the world.

The taste of the soup was quite exquisite to say the least.

The Fish Dish was Puffer Whale sashimi, a rare mammal fish beast classified as a "special caution food" due to the incredible difficulty of capturing and preparing them and are considered a deep-sea delicacy. The meat possess a high concentration of nutrients and energy. If eaten raw, a person can work ten days in a row without sleep. Its taste is so delicious that it has an endless deliciousness factor, with an enormous taste and an endless bliss that remains even after consuming the meat.

So it looked like he could hunt under the sea too!

The meat dish was Jewel Dragon steak. The meat had an incandescent lamp-like radiance that dulls jewels and lights up a night sky. Though the jewel dragon steak has an incredibly ethereal appearance, it still holds tastes of an extremely hearty down to earth meat flavor. It has a mellow aroma that puts high class perfume to shame. The taste is so delicious that Yves was brought to tears upon first eating it.

The main course was Ashurasaurus roast, an extremely powerful creature even by Falmart standards. Its meat is a rare ultra-high class delicacy of unmeasurable status. The meat tastes more like a high-quality sirloin steak. Its meat is coated with a sweet and delicious layer of frost-like fat that shines an ancient flavor filled with innumerable savory tastes that gradually unravel on the tongue and awakening primitive taste senses that have been sleeping until now.

Princess Yves continued with the salad, which was Ozone Herb, a large, thick, leaf-shaped herb wrapped up in numerous leaves that absorb the harmful radiation from sunlight. The Ozone Herb has a strong texture and is elastic such that lightly biting it will cause the eater's teeth to bounce back. The fibers of the plant are packed extremely tightly together and send vibrations through the jaw when bitten apart. In terms of taste, the Ozone herb is transcendentally delicious with an exhilarating and refreshing savoriness mixed with an almost addictive leafy bitterness that spreads out with each bite.

They moved next to the dessert, Rainbow Fruit pudding. Made from a legendary fruit that was rumored to have gone extinct. The fruit received its name not just from its colorful appearance, but from the way its juice, when evaporating into the air, gives off a rainbow. When placed in one's mouth, its flavor shifts seven times, making the eater taste a wide assortment of delicious flavors. Also of note is that the color and taste of the fruit depends on the humidity and temperature of the air. It's so delicious that most beasts want to eat it by instinct and try to eat it even while being eaten themselves. Because of its intensity, people are cautioned against eating too much of it.

They ended the luncheon with a drink made from Vermilion bird egg. The egg has a shell that sparkles like jewels, and when cracked open the yolk is spread throughout the rest of the egg, giving the appearance of being suffused with golden dust. The nutritional value of this egg has exceedingly high protein content, which mends the body beyond microscopic level and lengthens not only the hair, but also the fingernails and eyelashes, giving those who eat it a very feminine appearance.

"You're a true gourmet, Great Oxyotl." Yves complimented sincerely.

This had to be one of the best meals she's had in a long time and that in itself was quite impressive considering Yves was a Royal Princess who had tasted countless delicacies.

"We're not barbarians, Princess!" The Great Oxyotl rolled his eyes in displeasure.

The Empire had a bad habit of treating others with condescension even when they didn't mean to. Their attitude has gotten better over time but they're still pretty cocky.

"So, why do your visit the dominion of mine, Princess ?"

"To save your way of life, Oh Great Oxyotl." Yves made a very bold claim that could easily backfire but she decided to place a high-risk high-reward bet.

Oxyotl's eyes widened in surprise, "And why do you think we need help, Child!?" How pompous and condescending the imperialists were! Came here and said they would save him.

"A new enemy is invading Falmart."

"So what," Oxyotl replied dismissively. "We have defeated many invaders in the past, including your own."

Shrugging, Yves leaned back. "Technically, we won that war in the end."

Oxyotl snorted as anger flashed across his face. That was true, the lizardmen won many battles but in the end they had to make concessions to the Empire. You simply cannot win against the whole world.

"But that was a long time ago, Great Oxyotl, don't let the past stop us from reaching our better future." Yves made a de-escalation. There was no use in opening up old wounds.

"Great Oxyotl, I assure you, the new enemy, the earthling, is a formidable one. You may not know this yet but a coalition between the Holy Order and the earthlings have destroyed Abaddon and his infernal legions and taken over Netherworld."

"A coalition with the earthlings !?"

"Yup." Yves nodded, "A coalition, the earthlings might be pagans but they aren't demon worshipers."

"So, these earthlings seem like a reasonable bunch with some formidable armies. So why are they my problem ? It was the Holy Empire that provoked the earthlings, not the kingdom of mine."

An almost treacherous statement.

Oxyotl flinched at the Princess' murderous gaze. Admitting his treacherous thoughts was probably not his wisest move. The Empire might tolerate some degree of insubordination but they had zero tolerance for what they perceived as traitors.

"I will not partake in anything," he quickly assured.

"Great Oxyotl, I assure you, the earthlings are the worst kind of people. Their culture is antithesis to our way of life," Yves said with disdain. This would be her selling point. "Most earthlings don't know how to hunt, and the few ones do, only hunt for fun."

WHAT - !?

"A man who cannot hunt is no man at all." That was the old proverb of the Lizardmen. If earthlings couldn't hunt, they were no better than the cattle.

Seeing the absolute scorn on Oxyotl's face, Yves knew she hit the right spot. She added. "They can't even butcher their own meat, Great Oxyotl, they buy ready-made meat by machine."

"That's it, those people are a disgrace!" The Empire, despite its many faults, at least respected the tradition of foraging your own food. A man who relies on machines for food is worse than animals. Oxyotl lip's curled in disgust. "How could a man live like a sheep like that!"

"True – Lord Oxyotl!" Yves nodded in agreement.

It was time for her to hammer the final nail in the coffin. "The earthlings aren't just profane and slothful, Great Oxyotl, they are also greedy and perverted. Their society has moved away from values of community, spirituality, and integrity, and toward competition, materialism and disconnection. They commercialize everything. They convert the buying and use of goods into rituals. They seek spiritual satisfaction and ego satisfaction in consumption. They need things consumed, burned up, worn out, replaced and discarded at an ever-increasing rate. Can you imagine what they would do to our magnificent world Great Oxyotl !? They would turn this beautiful forest into a corn field and car park!"

"What do you need, Princess?" Oxyotl had made his decision.

Smirked.

She had him.

Lord Oxyotl is a staunch traditionalist even by Falmart standard. He would never accept the earthlings' dissolute way of life. She just needed to play to his ego at the right moment. Exaggerating here and there.

Yves smirked and leaned forward, her gaze turning from pleasant to predatory. She then pulled out a lengthy scroll from her bag. At the bottom, the Emperor's seal glistened, accompanied by her signature as the Secretary of State of The Army in shimmering ink.

The 8th Princess pointed at the relevant part. "You just need to sign here, Great Oxyotl. With this we will formalize the Enhanced Defense Cooperation Agreement between The Holy Darwinian Empire and Pahaux Collective."

Oxyotl stared at the treaty. His eyes scanned the words again. And then the Emperor's signature for a hint of forgery. Nothing changed. Everything was legitimate.

The words swam before his eyes and the curled edges of the papers fought his grip. There were countless clauses and clarifications. Each one dictating what each party could and couldn't do. They were all pointless, obfuscating the purpose: the secret art of invisibility.

The Empire wants to learn the art of guerrilla warfare which the lizardmen had mastered. And in exchange the lizardmen could have as much spice as their hearts desire, tax free.

Princess Yves pulled out a pen, extending it to Oxyotl.

"Great Oxyotl-"

Pausing for a second, Oxyotl took the pen out of her outstretched hand and turned the pages, finding the dotted lines that needed his signature and signed it.

Princess Yves turned to him solemnly. Slightly inclining her head, she said, "Welcome on board, Great Oxyotl."

Chapter 40: A Leap of Faith

Note: The Holy Empire lost against space faction such as the Covenant because they can nuke the Empire from orbit. Unless the space faction acting stupid like the Empire in Star Wars, landing troops on the planet, The Holy Empire can't win.

"Hard times create strong men. Strong men create good times. Good times create weak men. And, weak men create hard times." - G. Michael Hopf.

A nation is a living entity, so like all living beings it has its rise and fall in a never ending cycle. An Empire, by its very nature is divided, without a common enemy it soon falls to complacency and division. Empires solved this problem in the short term by conquering their neighbours to appropriate their surpluses (metals, grain, slaves, etc.).

However, this solution merely exacerbated the issue over the long term; as the Empire grew, the cost of maintaining communications, garrisons, civil government, etc., increased. Eventually, this cost grew so great that any new challenges such as invasions and crop failures could not be solved by the acquisition of more territory. At that point, the Empire fragmented into smaller units.

The decline of an Empire is the natural and inevitable effect of immoderate greatness. Prosperity ripens the principle of decay; the causes of destruction multiply with the extent of conquest; and as soon as time or accident have removed the artificial supports, the stupendous fabric yields to the pressure of its own weight.

The most powerful tool in every government's arsenal to maintain order is a common fear of the others. History is soaked in blood as men banded together to form great cities, only to tear them down again due to some primal fear. Now, we call ourselves civilized beings, but that same fear nips at our heels as we bow our head to authority. Fear though is exhausting, so we hide it under the guise of love for family, gods, and country.

The Holy Darwinian Empire, the Union of Europania and Gra Valkas Federation, despite their differences, all point to each other and stress the looming war on the horizon. The fear of invasion turns into love for their country because their glorious nation is a heroic, even divine, guardian. Under The Holy Darwinian Empire, the citizens love their Emperor because without one, war tears through their countryside. So what happens when there are no more enemies on the horizon ?

The Emperor plays the role of a god: infallible, all-knowing, and all-powerful. Only family and friendship stand independent from the rigid authority of the Emperor, and it is here where the Darwinian Empire is weak. If the Emperor is infallible, all-knowing, and all-powerful then how can corruption spread ever wider. Where is the land and glory he has promised ?

So how to reduce systemic corruption in the government, cut back deadweight in the system and get new land to reward the competent loyalists before it's too late. Before the system can never recover and the world falls into a thousand years of darkness. That is the concern of the Church and the Emperors. Although the momentum of the Empire's fall is too great to stop, using the power of psychohistory, they devise a machiavellian plan by which "the onrushing mass of events must be deflected just a little" to eventually limit this interregnum to just one decade. A short but brutal and carefully planned civil war.

A civil war so ferocious that it will wipe out half of the nobles, thereby liberating the land, the wealth and diluting the power of the old blood, creating an opportunity for the young blood to rise. A war so bloody that it will remind the citizens why they need a strong Emperor on the throne. That without the Empire, chaos reigns supreme and not a single soul in the land is safe. A war so grand that reminds the complacent nobles, vassals and royals of the Emperor's unparalleled prowess.

- The Dark Secret of Civil Wars.

Prisha Manor, Skavenblight, Azjania, Falmart

In a spacious but dimly lit and chemically-smelly underground chamber, Lady Prisha flipped through Rory's karmic value analysis report while keeping an eye on the Japanese man in the fetal position, suspended inside what looked like a cylinder tank filled with blue liquid - an artificial womb, something existed mostly in science fiction. Not just that, all the equipment in this room lends a surprisingly modern look for a mostly late medieval society, once again confirming the Empire's predominance in the field of bioengineering.

"Not good, the values are still too low.." she mumbled, pursing her lips.

Prisha had been working all day, monitoring the situation every second. This was the critical important stage, she couldn't be negligent or everything would fall apart. This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, Prisha wouldn't let it go to waste.

"Lady Prisha, how's the maturation process of Rory's soul?" Asked Aleister.

Turning her attention to the boy, Prisha replied softly. "The soul morphogenesis process is 92% complete, the metastructure is semi-stable," eyes rolling. "At least for now... All reading is still within acceptable parameters. Based on the current rate of differentiation, if nothing changes, her soul should be ready for extraction in 12 hours."

"Is the vessel's A.T field still uncompromised?" Giselle asked worriedly as she observed Itami at a close distance. Putting an bystander in danger like this was not their usual way.

A.T field was a natural barrier that bounded the ego and sense of self of a person from everyone else, allowing them to exist as an individual. Without an A.T. Field, it became almost impossible for souls to define their own existences without substantial conscious effort, causing the soul to degenerate into pure psions.

Prisha frowned. "The reinforced A.T. field is still holding for now but there have been several micro-cavitation events over the past few hours," Reclining on the chair, she continued bluntly. "I cast some more reinforcement spells: mandala shield to fortify the A.T. field but that would still allow higher dimensional rotation of nanoscale structures so it won't hold forever. We need to hurry."

"Why is that a problem? The molecules are still confined to…"

"Supramolecular chirality." Lady Prisha regarded her junior with a vaguely disappointed look. "Look it up and you don't need to be a biologist to know if you flipped a significant fraction of the non-superimposable molecules in a human body the individual would be dead or dying within hours. Too many critical enzymes operate only on a specific stereoisomer."

"Oh. Well, it could be worse!"

"And how about…the de-evilization process?'

"Not very good, I'm afraid!" Prisha shook her head dejectedly. "I used True Fire of Samadhi as an energizing agent to light up her fighting spirit and push out the evil miasma. Then I used Bodhisattva Avalokitesvara water to purify that evil miasma. I even used Nuwa's five colored stone to convert her karma, but Rory's karmic value is still in the negative range. I was hoping that we can reduce the risk of failure this way but it seems we have to take a significant risk of him resurfacing. Pandemonium is truly a fearsome demon-god."

"How is she now?" Crossed his arms, Aleister asked when he noticed the rapid movement of the eyes, accompanied by low muscle tone throughout Rory naked body while floating peacefully inside the pool of Bodhisattva Avalokitesvara.

"She's dreaming, the medicine I gave her has some hallucinogenic effects. I wonder what she is dreaming about ?"

Rory Dream

The thick titan crystal board snaps into two perfect halves with a flash of light and a deafening noise. Rory relishes the congratulatory grin on Archbishop Kowan's face as she stands up, holds the halves out, and bows. Finally, she has perfected the internal explosion technique: Fa-Jin and broken the crystal board.

Rory returns the bowing and accepts the crystal pieces, intent on taking them to her room where a small pile of crystal boards rest in her closet.

"Thank you very much, Master Kowan, for all your help. I couldn't have done it without you."

"It was my pleasure, young Rory," her martial arts instructor replies and straightens.

Turning to the training hall door, Rory glimpses a flash of fabric from her father's white cape behind her best friend Belle Faun, watching passively. Her father hasn't seen Rory's success.

Again.

Forcing a smile, she bounds to the edge of the room and a cough from Archbishop Kowan reminds her to turn around and bow to the Emroy dojo. The blue haired Belle giggles behind her.

"Shut up. But did you see? I did it!"

The apprentice priestess in black attire raises her eyebrows. "Congratulations. You broke a piece of crystal after a decade of training."

"Like you could do any better."

"Of course, I would get a hammer. Or you know... use the power of Titan to do it for me."

"To master the mind, one must first master the body," Rory retorts as a grin threatens to split her face. She knows Belle is acting surly to get a rise.

Archbishop Kowan laughs and walks past her, ruffling her hair. "The saying is mind over body. Speaking of your mind, you haven't been skimping on your training?"

"No." Rory shakes her head. "I've been in the dojo every day. I even practiced before breakfast. Please believe me, Grace Kowan!"

Rory can't bear the idea that her instructor thinks of her as a slacker. Of not learning the next technique. The advanced spin kick. And... Archbishop Kowan promised that Rory will get to spar with him if she impresses him.

"Fitness freak," Belle whispers.

Archbishop Kowan looks down at her sternly. "Rory. What did I say about overdoing it? But no. We're going to focus on your studies. Why, you even have a young princess here to practice Classical Saderan with."

No.

Absolutely not.

"Can't I practice the move more? I think I was slightly off balance," The young Rory pleads with puppy eyes.

"Afraid of some books?" Belle teases and darts back too slowly to avoid Rory's punch to the arm. "Seriously? That hurts!"

"Rory. Don't assault royalty." Archbishop Kowan smirks. "But we can't send a shrimp back to Eren Kingdom after we receive a princess. Come on, Your Highness, you need to train."

Rory laughs at her friend's look of horror and begging eyes. She's safe. The mountain of books will not harm today.

"And you, young Rory. You'll practice with Her Highness," Archbishop Kowan says and shatters her dreams.

Absolutely not. She refuses. Belle's little brother, Bart is the most terrifying child she ever met. And her own younger sister Kana is here... meaning that the two are undoubtedly up to mischief at her expense. Rory looks up at her instructor's stern face and her shoulders drop.

Resigning herself to her fate, Rory turns around.

"Rory! Don't leave me alone with him, you traitor." Belle hisses.

At least Belle will suffer as well. Rory has never met someone more allergic to martial arts.

"I'm a princess. You can't order me. I refuse to submit to this... torture."

Rory rolls her eyes. "It's just self-defense."

"And? That's what the royal guards are for," Belle counters. "And he'll be hitting me. That's assault."

Archbishop Kowan never hits harder than he intends to. His punches are more like love taps.

Crossing her arms, Rory says, "Stop being such a weakling." And because her instructor needs all the help he can get in getting Belle to acknowledge his authority, she adds, "You want to protect Bart, don't you?"

Belle glares at her, but doesn't object when Archbishop Kowan throws a brass knuckle at her.

How her friend can be so weak while prizing her sacred art, is incomprehensible. A weak body sheltering a strong magic mind is an oxymoron. They're two sides of the same coin.

She shrugs. The Erenian are weird!

XXXXXXXXXX

The glass window shatters, destroying the spectacular rendition of her grandfather Norman the Demon Slayer as he landed on the shores of Lemuria, hunting down the inferno enemy. The first lightning bolt ricochets off the holy suit of armor and sets fire to the Emperor's portrait. Then another lightning bolt, followed by another. The lightbulbs on the chandelier burst and disperse into a fine mist of glass.

Rory, following the orders of a mysterious puppeteer, lunges forward to her sister as she looks up from her artwork.

Kana's beautiful, purple eyes focus on her and Rory takes a moment to appreciate the rare sight. They are radiant although she mourns the sight of fear. Why does she only remember her eyes filled with fear? They should be happy.

Her body, as always, is too slow. Rory can feel the distance between them stretching. She has to move and save her.

Rory trips and her palms skid over the glass shards.

Pain.

Kana, her sweet and precious little sister, is finally beginning to move. Her eyes lock onto Rory and she stretches out her arm as if to help her.

The cabinet, filled with precious china, wobbles. The teacups teeter to the side and bang against the glass door. The large teapot with gold inlays inches forward and Rory watches in horror as the scene begins to replay.

Rory knows what will happen. She has lived through it.

Yet, here she is, being forced to live through her failure again.

"Move!" Rory cries, according to the script.

And like before, she does not move an inch.

The teapot in all its wealthy glory skids through the glass door. The shards sliced into Kana's skin and she lunged forward once more, while glass shreds her skin.

It didn't hurt that much the last time.

The last time?

The damn teapot which Rroy doesn't think is possible to despise with such passion, strikes her head. Her eyes rolled back. She crumples to the ground.

Rory grabs her arm, but the cabinet is still wobbling and then falling. Her heart pounds and the moment stretches on, amplified by the certainty of what will happen next. Why won't the nightmare stop?

This is the past.

The cabinet lands and Rory hears three loud distinctive cracks through the shattering of china: one for her arm, two for her sister's legs. At least she is unconscious and doesn't have to feel the hungry fire creeping up from the impact and setting every nerve alight.

Through the daze of pain, Rory turns to the sound of glass crunching beneath heavy feet. The assassin's body is lean and androgynous: too young to tell their gender.

But their voice has a distinctive feminine tilt as she locks eyes on Rory from across the room. "Still alive?"

Rory never remembers the assassin. In every dream and nightmare that follows this fateful day, the assassin is unknown: a nameless horror. But here, in this dream, she has a face. Her eyes are grey blue with a hint of noble features.

Her head begins to raise as her younger self notices the threat.

The terror of the moment abates. Rory has lived through this before. She won't die and that certainty allows her to look past her and notice the slumped guards in the doorway and the trail of blood following the assassin's every step.

Her face contrite, she says, "Really don't like finishing off kids. Don't worry, I'll make it quick."

Rory wants to believe her. A red haze washes over the room and her younger self whose body is frozen in terror, begins to relax.

Relax.

Why is she relaxing? Why is the world obscured in a shade of red? Why is the assassin walking forward with such certainty that she will not be harmed?

Rory... she is not relaxing. She can still feel the thrum of terror in her blood in contrast to her younger self whose pain begins to fade. This is not real... yet it is. She is over 3000, not 110.

The dichotomy of emotions breaks the illusion.

Rory is in a hot laboratory, not in the room where the assassin approaches their prone forms. Through the haze, she can see Prisha watching her with her lips pressed into a thin line.

A drug-induced hallucination?

Relax.

The order rattles her mind, but whatever hallucinogenic magic the assassin is employing, it matters not within the realm of dreams.

Rory's real heart, not her childhood one, is beating rapidly. Her younger self reaches out toward the tassels of the poisonous sword lying by her side. The fingers brush against the soft strings, but she is too far. She inches forward.

The assassin pauses in her approach. Rory forces herself to take a deep measured breath. She is 3000, not 110 and terrified. She has walked through countless battlefields and protected those she holds dear... but not Belle. Belle who died for her.

Her younger self is still reaching for the sword and the assassin pulls out her crossbow. Then, she hoists it again and pulls out a badge. She believes she has all the time in the world... and Rory can only wonder if that is true. She has made it this far into the mansion and she cannot hear a single spell shot or guard shout.

Everything is silent.

The badge... the badge is familiar. Her Master has a similar one, but a slightly different design.

Why is there an agent from the Red Lotus Order attempting to assassinate her?

The assassin pockets the badge again and rolls her eyes. "It's useless to resist, child. Stronger men have failed to fight off my Latvia."

Rory clings to the unfamiliar word. This false feeling of calmness that permeates the air is something the assassin claims. Perhaps it is the name of the spell she developed?

"A terrorist attack," the assassin mutters and walks up to Rory again and glances back at the door. Finally, she can hear a distant commotion.

She pulls out a syringe and Rory stares at it in hatred and confusion. She is supposed to try and kill her. That is what the script says.

Instead, she walks forward and kneels by her side. "I only need one of you... The younger girl is more malleable."

Kana.

Not her sister.

Rory will not allow her sister to be harmed or taken or used.

Her younger self is calm and relaxed as she leans over Kana and checks her sister's pulse. She should be fighting for her sister, but her body rests on the ground like a pliable doll. Rory watches in horror as the assassin preps the syringe and even the certainty that her sister is fine cannot ease her frantic heart.

She is fine, right? Or has Rory imagined her safety, unable to cope with her loss?

No. Kana is fine.

There are shouts in the hallway and the assassin frowns as she turns around to look at the door.

Finally, her younger self manages to grasp the tassel and pulls the sword closer. Once again, Rory drives it into her gut like her memory claimed. And the blood is pooling over her small hands, dripping down the sword. Rory keeps pushing.

"How?"

The assassin stumbles back, pulling the poisonous blade out of her hands and collapses on the ground. Whatever hallucinogenic magic she employed, is no longer in effect. Rory can smell the copper stench of blood and the acidic stench of the battlefield she has grown too accustomed to.

Emotions once again align.

Kana?

Is she alright?

She has... killed someone?

Archbishop Kowan runs into the room, with his blade drawn. His left eye—normally sewn shut and Rory thought it was because he lost it in a duel—is wide open, revealing a glowing amber eye, and scanning the room. Stepping over the assassin, he leans down and checks Kana.

"Hang in there, kid," he whispers to Rory, before straightening and shouting, "They're alive."

Rory blinks wearily. She cannot keep her eyes open and sleep beckons to her. Kana will be fine. Everything will be okay.

Glass crunches and Rory squints as her father, Grand Duke Sargon Mercury strides into the room and abruptly stops before the assassin. Why is he here? Why does he even bother?

"Do they need medical aid?"

"Kana is unconscious, but breathing normally. Rory... she stabbed the assassin," Archbishop Kowan says.

She... she didn't kill them? Rory is sure she did. The assassin was her first kill...

Her father's voice rumbles angrily. "Kneel before your Liege Lord."

Opening her heavy eyes, Rory watches as the fallen form gasps and staggers to her knee. "Forgive me, My Lord. I was weak. I didn't expect the girld to fight through my spell. I will submit myself to any punishment necessary."

"KATSUTORI," hisses her father.

"My Lord?"

"Why were you ordered to kill them?"

The assassin pauses. "I do not know, My Lord. Were my orders incorrect?"

"Yes!" He roars and strikes the assassin. She falls back to the ground, gasping for breath. "Why?"

Whimpering, she says, "I was just following orders. Please, forgive me, My Lord! I'm but your humble servant. I don't know why."

Even Rory, half asleep, thinks she's pitiful. She's painfully loyal to her father, but then, why?

"Who let you into the mansion?"

"How did you disable the alarm?"

She answers dutifully although the pool of blood beneath her grows. Her father's face darkens and Rory's heart beats faster. Her father is somehow the largest threat in the room. Not the assassin with the hallucinogenic spell. Not Archbishop Kowan with his fearsome martial arts skills and magic sword. But her unarmed father.

"Where is KATSUTORI?"

The question stumps her. "I don—I don't know!"

"Execute her," her father orders and crouches.

Rory clenches her eyes shut as Archbishop Kowan walks past with heavy steps. A familiar hiss of metal against a scabbard.

"Please, My Lord. I didn't know! Please, mercy! I'll do anything."

A squelch and a thud. The stench of blood is overpowering and Rory gags.

"Still awake, Rory?" her father asks and Rory opens her crimson eyes to stare at the face of his blood spattered father. Archbishop Kowan stands by his side, wiping the sword drenched in blood. "You shouldn't have heard that."

"Father?" she whispers.

Her father smiles. He never smiles. "Let's not give your mother another reason to be angry with me. Come on, Rory. Look at me."

Rory is too tired to disobey. She looks into her father's eyes.

"Sleep."

The sweet relief of falling unconsciousness...

XXXXXXXXXX

Rory sits outside the family residence under the relentless sun as guards patrol the perimeter. Belle and Kana are sequestered inside as her father meets with various important lords and ladies, generals, and wealthy guilds. Rory hears their muffled laughter from inside and shifts on the stone steps.

It isn't fair. Rory should be inside doing her duty as the eldest daughter of the Grand Duke, but instead her father banished her outside. Rory is a disgrace to the family.

But she didn't even do anything.

Only introduced Belle as her friend.

A shadow looms over her and Rory looks up, wiping her face along her sleeve. "Archbishop Kowan?"

He passes her a popsicle and sits down with a grunt. "Thought you might be hot."

"Thank you," Rory whispers and the popsicle melts across her tongue. The cool flavor eases the growing headache and the gnawing disappointment. "I don't understand why he's mad."

Archbishop Kowan leans back. "Your father is stressed. The Emperor is dead and an Imperial Civil War is looming on the horizon and there are whispers that the chaos demons are planning another incursion. But he only sent you outside, so why don't we enjoy this wonderful day?"

"Really?"

"Yes, young Rory. If anyone asks, we were doing important student and teacher training," he says seriously and then cracks a large grin. "Think you can lie?"

Rory nods and clambers to her feet. She gets an entire day with her instructor although she wouldn't mind spending the time training. But if Archbishop Kowan thinks his excursion is important, then Rory is only too happy to follow.

A loud crash from nearby draws their attention and Archbishop Kowan's hand drifts to his blade. No one should be able to get past the guards patrolling the premises, but tensions are running high.

"Rory, we're here to rescue you," Belle declares as she runs up to her and Kana follows more sedately. The blue haired stops abruptly at the sight of Archbishop Kowan and stiffens. "My apologies, Grace Kowan."

Her instructor sighs and pinches his nose. "I guess you will be joining our field trip?"

Kana beams and ten minutes later, they are squished into the backseat of Archbishop Kowan horseless carriage and rolling through the gates with none the wiser.

It's exhilarating.

Like one of Belle's epic plans to escape the monotony of the Emroy shrine and stifling guards to work on their secret base. Except this time, there is no need for her saber-toothed cat, Tora, to be released onto the unsuspecting masses.

Saber-toothed cats hate her. But Tora... She's evil. Not even salmon calms her fury.

Of course that means Belle and her are best friends. Rory once caught her sprawled across her friend's lap as she read a book. And she was purring.

Belle whispers, "Archbishop Kowan could be planning to kill us. There are no guards."

A typical Belle question whose mind always seems to wander how other people will kill her. Rory shouldn't be surprised, but as always, she is.

Archbishop Kowan chuckles. "No, Belle. I'm not killing my second favorite student."

Warmed, Rory leans back in her seat.

"Besides, without you, Rory would never bother doing her schoolwork."

"Ehh!" Rory protests. "Belle can't make me do anything!"

Her friend snickers, but finally relaxes and Rory realises that was her Master's intention all along. He always seems to know how to best handle Belle when she gets into one of those so called gloomy moods.

Once, Rory dared to ask her instructor why and he only smiled sadly and said that Belle needed a friend she could trust. And despite how much time passes and how much Rory tries to prove herself worthy, there is a part of Belle that doubts her. Rory can only work to be the best friend possible.

Archbishop Kowan parks the magic carriage and Rory stares out the window, surprised.

A traveling carnival.

The last time Rory visited was right after her father has Kana. Three days after her mother gave birth to Kana and the night before the public announcement. Rory's father brought her here with an entourage of plain clothed guards.

Rory was so excited... but the day turned into a failure with her father reprimanding every childish gesture Rory made and her mother leaving halfway without a word.

Today, Rory decides she will be different.

Her instructor opens the door and shoves a pile of kirtles and hennins at them. "Put them on. We're going in disguise."

Belle, of course, grins like an airhead.

The day passes in a blur. Some games Kana can't play, not tall enough, but Belle finally trusts Archbishop Kowan enough to allow her to part from his side. And Rory is given the honorable task of guarding the princess. An honorable job.

Archbishop Kowan trusts her.

Relishing the thrill of freedom, Rory pulls Belle to every game. The knife throwing game. The House of Dead—and learns her friend hates undead. Glass blowing game. After a crushing defeat at the snake charming game, Belle drags her to the white phoenix attraction. Rory will never understand her friend's obsession with the creature.

They return to the carriage filled with sugar candy and chattering, while Archbishop Kowan pretends to sulk behind a book. Rory knows he's secretly smiling. The corners of his eye give him away.

Kana carries with her a sizable loot of stuffed animals and Belle finally relaxes, falling asleep on the ride home.

No one noticed their absence, so they parked in front of the house unhindered.

"Thank you," Belle tells Archbishop Kowan with a proper bow.

Rory cannot sneak back inside like her friends. Her father told her to stay outside and so she will. Even if her heart twinges. Because Rory's father hasn't noticed she left despite the late hour.

A warm, comforting hand settles on her shoulder and she looks up at Archbishop Kowan's proud face. "A game of blitz chess?"

And because Rory loves her Master, she says, "Yes."

Blitz chess is still a stupid game.

XXXXXXXXXX

Rory stands among piles of the dead with Belle and her sister by her side. The ground is covered with giant footprints. The stench of death and rot permeates the air. Rory throws up. There is nothing left in her stomach. The dreary anticipated imperial civil war has finally arrived and it wreaks havoc on everything.

War is nothing like depicted in the old movies, in those black and white movies the dead always close their eyes.

Not here.

Here, the dead gaze at Rory accusingly as she walks past. Asking her what they had done to deserve this. Sometimes Rory can hear the bodies rustle, pop, and groan.

Dead bodies underneath the unrelenting sun are not quiet.

They know that now after the third time searching for the sound. Desperately, foolishly, hoping that someone is alive.

All dead.

The light pink dahlia blossom—they planned to attend New Year with Belle's family—stands out against the realm of the dead filled with burnt and crushed corpses, dark flaking red pools of blood, and skin pale as bones. Sometimes Rory sees an actual bone protrude.

The dahlia blossom is pinned to the tattered dress of a small girl, Kana's age.

Unlike the others, there is no blood or charred skin and Rory morbidly wonders how she died. Vampire's Blood Bending? Mist of Void? The infamous 'Soul Draining' technique ?

"Rory." Belle grasps her shoulder and wrenches Rory away.

"I have to—"

"—Keep moving," Belle says. Her eyes are swollen and tear tracks stain her cheeks. "For Kana."

For Kana she walks through a graveyard that she has no right to enter.

All dead… Just like her teacher Archbishop Kowan.

Rory sinks in an ocean of blood as she kneels besides her Archbishop Kowan, a teacher, a friend, and an uncle. Rory needs to save him, but the bony fingers clamp around her wrist.

Why won't he let go?

Rory can save him. She has to. Rory won't let another death lie on her conscience.

But Kowan isn't letting her. Instead he speaks. Painful, laborious words. "Run to the east, Young One!"

Why won't he let go? His wives are waiting for him and Archbishop Kowan has so much to live for. So much good he can do because he can save lives. Not like Rory.

Her eyes sweep over Kowan's frozen chest. No. His jaw hangs limply. No. The skin is pearly white…

Dead.

Make it stop.

A warden, a demon cultist, kneels before her and that damn traitor Katsutori approaches, talking, always talking as if he is everyone's best friend.

Why won't he stop?

Why won't he spare Rory the agony of being forced to watch?

To hear her friend Belle scream as she is raped over and over?

To smell the mix of blood and piss of her sister Kana?

No more.

Commoners, her subjects, run through the streets and Katsutori ... he gives the order. The innocents will be sacrificed to the dark gods. There are children in the street. And Rory sees red blood staining the snow as demon sword Neqros drinks their blood.

Please stop!

Whiteman Air Force Base, Missouri, USA, October 2030.

"That looks ominous."

"The WeatherBug says that we're due for thunderstorms with heavy rain and strong winds this afternoon. The main storm line is passing well east of us, probably coming no closer than Sedalia. We should be all right here."

"We'd better be. There isn't a vacant hangar on the base." And that, General Walter Cochrane thought, was the honest truth.

Once long ago, or so it seemed, the bad old days when aircraft would spend tens of hours on the ground getting fixed for every one they spent flying, seemed to have gone. The F-16 had required 33 man-hours of maintenance for every flight hour, the F-35 had needed ten and they had been considered great improvements on what had gone before. The J-8B and J-11Es that were now entering the Air Force and Navy inventory required just three.

Now the problem was back again and it wasn't just the fact that extreme heat waves caused by climate change on Earth had increased the risk of aviation accidents. With fewer air molecules pushing back beneath the wings of the plane, the air fails to generate enough force for takeoff. It was where they were flying.

Unlike the ideal atmosphere of Falmart, very dense and cool air, Netherworld's atmosphere was not a good environment for the operation of aircraft. It was hot and thin but the worst thing was the pumice dust that saturated the atmosphere clogged engines and abraded airframes, sending maintenance requirements skywards. The life of engines between complete strip-down and rebuilds had dropped by two orders of magnitude, back almost to Second World War levels while the need for airframe refurbishment had soared to an intolerable degree.

The result, inevitably, was that serviceability rates had fallen to appalling levels. Before the Great Falmart War had started, the USAF demanded 80 – 90 percent availability rates for its front line aircraft, privately Cochrane admitted that had been an optimistic target, but since the Hell War started they were down in the 20 to 30 percent. For all its expansion over the three months since the Hell War had started, the Air Force wasn't actually fielding more aircraft than it had done pre-war. If it hadn't been for the 120,000 war dragons from Falmart filling out the numbers, the situation would be dire.

"Perhaps we ought to do it like the Russians Sir. Build the engines cheap and throw them away after seven hundred hours."

"The Russians don't get seven hundred any more than we get a thousand. And we can't just throw old engines away, we're too short of replacements. Even with the government buying every engine Pratt and Westinghouse can turn out, we're still short. They don't even build a lot of the engines we need any more. And as for them.." Cochrane gestured at the rows of F-35 Lightning II parked on the hard stand.

His aide knew what his General meant. If the problems were bad on the conventional aircraft, they were many times worse on the F-35. The aircraft had been designed for operations in very hostile air environments where it would be the target for multiple batteries of surface to air missiles. It was built so that it would be near-impossible to see on radar and that was a great achievement.

Only it was one that had turned out to be completely useless, unlike the densely packed albeit ineffective air defense in Falmart, the demons in Netherworld hadn't had a single anti-aircraft system to their name and human aircraft flew their missions without any kind of serious opposition. Only, the same dust that wrecked engines also destroyed the delicate anti-radar materials that gave the F-35 its evasive capability. F-35 serviceability had never been really good, now it was abysmal. Of the 755 F-35s operated by the USAD, only 132 were operational.

"We need the D version like yesterday." Colonel Harmsworth spoke glumly. As aide to General Cochrane, one of his jobs was tracking the efforts Lockheed Martin were making to produce a F-35 that was built of conventional materials but it was harder than it seemed. Effectively it meant an entirely new aircraft.

"We'll never see it Bill. Bet you a hundred bucks on it. Sukhoi are putting the finishing touches on re-assembling the Su-30 production line and Shenyang Aerospace are designing a version of the JH-7 Jianhong as a multirole. We'll see both of those before the F-35D becomes reality and the powers-that-be will decide a third multirole is just too much trouble." Cochrane hesitated. "Is it my imagination or is the wind picking up fast?"

Before Harmsworth could answer, the emergency sirens on the air base started to wail and a tannoy message echoed around the hardstand area."Emergency, General Cochrane to the tower, immediately."

It was undignified for a General to run anyway, that's why they had aides. But, when a Lieutenant in the air operations center believed the situation was bad enough to warrant him giving orders to a General, running was in order. If the situation really was that bad, every second counted, if it was not, there was the transfer of a Lieutenant to one of the airbases in Netherworld to arrange. Even as he sprinted to the steps that led down to the AOC, Cochrane reflected that many Generals in history had told incompetent junior officers to go to hell but he was one of the first who could make that order happen.

"What's happening?" He snapped the question out as he entered the crowded room.

"Sir, the storm line is changing and intensifying. Look at the Doppler radar plot."

Cochrane had never been a meteorologist but years of watching the Weather Channel had made him familiar with the display. The brown of the map was disfigured by a green band that stretched horizontally across the display. That wasn't the problem, it meant heavy rain but that had been expected. The problem was the small section in the center of the band that went from yellow to orange and then to deep red with a small purple spot in the center. That meant tornadoes. They had been expected too, but the weather pattern had meant they would be nowhere near the base.

Even as Cochrane watched, the band was changing, the whole right hand side was collapsing in on itself and reforming at an angle of almost 90 degrees to its original orientation. It was also picking up speed and the deep-red/purple area was expanding fast.

Cochrane didn't hesitate. He grabbed the microphone to the alert system and thumbed the speaker button. "Severe weather anomaly approaching. Everybody takes cover in the hangars and closes the doors. Any A-10s hooked to tractors should be towed under cover, otherwise leave the aircraft. This is not a drill."

"A-10s Sir? What about the F-35s?"

"Screw them, they're out of service for weeks. Our boys fighting down in the Netherworld need the Warthogs." Concrane relaxed slightly, losing the aircraft would be bad but the skilled technicians who maintained them were irreplaceable. The Air Force was as desperately short of ground crews as it was of everything else. The hangars had been designed to take anything up to and including a very near miss from a large nuclear weapon, the vital technicians would be safe inside them.

The minutes ticked by as the storm line reformed and swept down on Whiteman. The meteorologist shook his head and sucked his teeth. "Storm lines just don't do that Sir."

"Well, watch one do it." Cochrane almost added 'You moron' to the end but stopped himself. He would save that for a private meeting with the officer later. 'Praise in public, punish in private', the old mantra ran through his mind.

"Hangar doors closed Sir." The young officer who had called him to the AOC made his report. "They got three dozen extra A-10s inside."

"Thank you, Estrada, you did well to call me in so quickly. Good call." The young man straightened slightly and couldn't stop himself glancing around to see the reaction to his General's praise.

"Wind speed picking up fast." The meteorologist was attempting to make up for lost ground. "150 knots now and still increasing. The anemometer goes off the scale at 165, we're going to pass that easy."

High on the AOC wall were a series of displays from the outside surveillance cameras. One of them pointed east and showed the ground out towards Sedalia. Or, it would, normally, but now the scene was different. The sky had blackened over until light levels had dropped to night-time conditions. Even so, the camera was showing three massive tornadoes bearing down on the base, their fearsome funnels illuminated by the almost continuous lightning discharges. The sight was awesome, even the tornadoes that had destroyed Greenburg hadn't matched these monsters.

"They're EF-5s for sure, no doubt about it. I'd say they were F-6s on the old Fujita-Pearson scale." The meteorologist's voice was awed. "Those funnels must be a mile across. Only Lord knows what the wind speeds in those things are but it must be over three hundred and fifty miles per hour, I'm sure of that." This must be a consequence of an extreme El Niño event driven by climate change. The meteorologist thought.

The funnels swelled quickly until they filled the screen. By that time the sky was so dark it took Cochrane a few seconds to realize that the television camera had ceased to function. The room was filled with a dull roar, the floor shaking despite the depth to which the facility had been buried. That, if nothing else, told Cochrane just how much energy the storm was containing. The television screens were all blacked out, he guessed the cameras had been destroyed but then he saw a shadow moving on one and realized it was just the conditions out there."Have we got a night vision option on camera five."

There was no verbal reply but the image on Camera Five went from black to green. It showed very little more than the normal vision had revealed, the intense driving rain was blanking out most of the imagery but what was visible went far beyond any words Cochrane had to describe it. The shadow he had seen was a F-35, picked up by the storm and thrown cartwheeling down the hard-stand. Other shadows could have been the A-10s and J-86s parked there being tossed around with the contemptuous disregard malicious children showed for toys belonging to others. There were other objects as well, Cochrane couldn't recognize them but they hurtled across the screen before Camera Five too blacked out.

"That's it Sir. All cameras are gone." The voice was quiet and awed at the brief glimpse of the destruction on the surface.

"Doppler radar has gone as well Sir." The meteorologist looked over at General Cochrane, half-expecting to be held responsible for the equipment failure. But who could have expected something like this, F6 tornadoes weren't supposed to be possible, that's why the classification for the Enhanced Fujita scale stopped at EF5. Boardman guessed that an EF6 would be added after today,

Cochrane glanced at the viewer, it was still showing the track of the storm front. It was passing Whiteman and closing in on Warrensburg, the small town to the west of the base. It was a favorite for men on leave and now it was going to be gone. No town could survive a tornado that had hammered a base designed to resist nuclear attack so badly. "How come we're still getting data?"

"Sir, we're pulling radar data from the Tornado Watch on the Weather Channel. We've got a cross-connection, when they sought permission to use input from our radars, we got input from their system in case ours went down."

"Who thought of that?"

Boardman shrugged, "It was a joint effort sir, we were all brainstorming and the idea just came up."

The storm on the screen was slowly weakening as the trailing edge crossed Whiteman and left the base, if there still was one Cochrane thought, sitting in a sea of light green. By the time it enveloped Warrensburg, the purple areas had gone and the dark red had shrunk markedly. That was only relative though, Warrensburg still didn't have a hope of surviving. It was towns beyond that now stood an honest chance of being able to rebuild. The dull roar had faded and the floor had stopped shaking, it looked like the monsters had indeed passed.

A few minutes later, he was standing on what was left of Whiteman Air Force base. Behind him the massive doors on the bomb-proof hangars were opening. It was still raining but the force of the downpour was easing off. Cochrane almost found himself wishing it hadn't for the rain had hidden the worst of the destruction that surrounded him. The aircraft left outside on the hardstand had gone, mostly they were small fragments of shattered wreckage scattered all over the base. 378 F-35s, Cochrane thought, at 110 million dollars each. That alone made this storm a catastrophe.

The much cheaper aircraft like the J-86s, A-10s and the handful of Dragon Hunters that had been assigned here as guards against a Harpy attack, as expected had suffered a lot less than the fragile F-35s. This was because of their nano-crystalline steel airframes so the tornadoes only picked them up and threw them rather than just ripping them apart; some of the birds were still recognizable. There was, for example, what was obviously a wing from an J-86 stuck in the ruins of the control tower.

It was the hardstand itself that showed the awesome force of the storm that had hammered Whiteman Air Force Base. The concrete and blacktop had been ripped from the ground in huge chunks and the fragments hurled around the base as giant, vicious projectiles. One such chunk had hit the blast doors of a hangar and dented them. It had dented a door meant to resist a nuclear blast. That alone showed the incredible force that the storm had unleashed.

Around him, the base personnel were pouring out of the hangars and bomb shelters, only to mill around, seeking direction in the face of the unimaginable devastation. Cochrane looked behind him, the areas where base housing had been built were leveled as thoroughly as the rest of the installation. That gave him his first priority at least. Fortunately he had a loud-hailer available, the presence of mind to think of bringing one as he'd left the AOC was one of the reasons why he'd made it to General.

"Listen up. Everybody who has family in the base housing area, you are dismissed now. Take whatever transport you need from the hangars and get to your quarters, help your families. Move." He hesitated while about a third of the men broke away and set off. "The rest of you, we're forming work gangs to dig the casualties out. There will be a lot of them and we have to move fast. Get whatever tools you can find and get going. Base security, get the infra-red gear and the K-9s, we'll need them to find people buried in the ruins."

As the base surged back into activity, Cochrane walked over the shattered hardstand to the runway. It wasn't quite as badly damaged as the hardstands but it was still a mess.

"Sir." The voice sounded behind him. One of the pilots was running up to join him.

"Yes Captain?"

"Sir, my Warthog is fuelled and ready to go, she was being prepped for a test flight when the emergency hit. I can take her up, see what the damage is from the air. I've got a FLIR pod as well, I can help look for people in the wreckage."

"Captain, just take a look at the runway. It's a wreck and it's covered with debris."

"No problem Sir. The Warthog can handle the damage and worse. My bird still has her Hell-filters fitted so that'll stop any foreign object ingestion. Sir, after this we need everything we can get to help us and I can do more good up there than pushing a spade."

"Make it so, Captain. But steer well of storm fronts if one starts to form. And don't take the fact you are clear for granted. This one turned through 90 degrees and doubled in power in just a few seconds."

"Sir, word from the base housing." Harmsworth was looking grim. "It's gone, all of it. I don't see how many people could have survived there. Some in the basements and shelters perhaps, but I don't know, the houses are so thoroughly destroyed, it's hard to tell where they were. Even the roads are all ripped up. The men are digging but it's looking pretty bad in there."

Cochrane sighed. "Anything else?"

"Local police and emergency services are tied down at Warrensburg, the situation is as bad there as it is in Base Housing. Streets are all blocked or torn up or both, all the buildings are down. They're expecting thousands of dead, nobody even can guess how many are severely wounded. Total population minus the dead is their best guess. So, they're telling us, we're on our own resources for a while."

"No, we're not. We need to get through to SecDef now."

"Comms are down Sir. As far as we can make out, our communications tower is somewhere in the Knob Noster National Park. It should be easy to find Sir, there isn't a tree left standing over there."

"Then find another way to get through. We need help down here. Is there any good news?"

"The storm front dissipated before it hit Kansas City. They got heavy rain and strong winds but that's all." Harmsworth was interrupted by the sound of an A-10 taxying out on to the wrecked hardstand, three ground crew helping it to steer around the worst of the damage. "And, Sir, it looks like we're back in business."

Half an hour later, Cochrane was on the telephone to Washington, speaking directly with Defense Secretary Petraeus.

"And so Sir, Whiteman is out, we can fly a dozen A-10 or two but that's it. The F-35s here are history, there isn't even scrap metal left. Our personnel have mostly escaped, but their families have been hit hard. The base housing is like the F-35s, just tiny pieces of scrap being blown in the wind. We're going to need emergency services, disaster teams, you name it. From what we've been able to put together, we're looking at twenty or thirty thousand dead."

"That squares with our estimates General. I'm speaking with FEMA right now."

"Mister Secretary, please, not FEMA. We've had one disaster here today already."

Cochrane could almost hear the drumming of fingers at the other end of the phone. "That's changed, the problem that caused the mess back then isn't even here now. And there are things about this storm they need to see. I understand it changed direction and speed without warning?"

"That's correct Sir. Was heading north-east, it suddenly turned west."

"That fits some other pictures we have. General Cochrane, you hang in there. Help is on its way. Chairman Kayvan Bechir has a standing offer to send help for disasters like this. I've got a feeling he was expecting something along these lines."

"Sending No-Pats, Sir?"

"That's right, General. Those Non-Patriated climate refugees are good at digging and shifting wreckage. And I guess you need all the help you can get."

1/33 Battalion, Third Brigade, Third Armored Division, Ninth U.S. Corps. North of Dis.

It had been two week since Dis surrendered and the situation with the Ninth Corps in general and her battalion in particular hadn't improved. They were spreading their forces too thin. Stevenson's own battalion was now split up between over a hundred villages that meant she had less than an infantry squad per village. The problem, however, didn't lie in the demons but with their own 'allies".

So much has changed since then. The sweeping movements and great battles of the Hell War had been replaced by the slow bogging down as they took over more of the small farming villages on the periphery of Dis. That was no bad thing; she thought it has only been for the last month or so that her vehicles have had full load-outs of ammunition and the artillery boys are still short.

There were more subtle changes in place though. The extemporized and emergency modifications that had taken place in the Hell War had been replaced by properly-engineered solutions. Her tanks showed that effect. In charge across the Phelan Plain and up here, her tanks had been equipped with tent-like air filters that had kept the engines clean but were clumsy, fragile and obstructed the turret's movement. Now, they had been replaced by a much smaller and neater solution.

The same applied to her personal equipment. The combination of sand goggles to protect her eyes and bandannas across the nose and mouth to prevent dust inhalation had gone in favor of an integrated mask that covered her face with a loose-fitting filter that allowed her to see, breath and speak without getting her lungs filled with powdered pumice.

The new equipment had been made possible by the analysts who had sat down with dust samples and determined the characteristics of the materials that were most effective against it. Slowly, very slowly, Netherworld was becoming a place where living humans could live.

For a limited period anyway.

Stevenson strolled around the village that had become her base. This had become her morning routine. From afar she watched the Chaos demon farmers as they began their daily work. As always, they ignored the heavy tanks and IFVs parked around the buildings, simply making sure they had enough food to eat. Stevenson was now a "Lady of the Manor '' ruling over 70,000 lesser demons, the demon even built her a small castle nearby.

"Colonel Stevenson, we have Brigadier on the line."

Stevenson walked over to her radio shack, which was actually her command shack with a tent enclosure in the back.

"Kilo-Alpha Actual Here."

"Kilo prime. Stevenson, we have trouble."

"Sir?"

"A large living-dead militia of about 200,000 men, armed with light weapons, calling itself the Saddam Liberation Front, is moving toward your area at walking pace. You will encounter them in 36 hours."

Two hundred thousand living-dead! That was bad news. Her battalion numbered less than 900 men and they were spread over a large area. They were facing a real danger of being overwhelmed. Stevenson thought to herself.

"Are they friend or foe, Sir?"

"We are not sure, Stevenson. They aren't hostile towards us but they are burning and looting every demon village on their path."

"Armed by the Holy Order?"

"Yes, armed by the Holy Order. The dead want revenge on the demons and the Holy Order is more than happy to provide them with the means to do so. Anyway, the following is the word straight from Commander Nuttall. Do not, I repeat, DO NOT engage the living dead militia head on. Only defensive actions will be undertaken. Any hostile forces attacking your positions are to be killed in a friendly manner."

"Yes, Sir."

"An armed angry mob, That was great!" Stevenson rolled her eyes, now she had to protect the demons against lynching by the dead.

How fast things had changed!

One moment, she fought the demons to liberate the dead, now she might have to fight the dead to protect the demons.

This was a common problem with liberating oppressed populations. As soon as you free them, they want revenge on their oppressors. Considering how many thousands of years they've been tortured in this shit hole, this was going to be a serious and long term problem. You simply couldn't reason with avengers for their hatred running deeper than the depth of the ocean.

Underground Command Facility, Yamantau, Greater Russia

There was a time when no American President had entered the complex deep underneath the granite monolith of Yamantau. In those days, ones that seemed long ago but were only measured in months rather than years, the only thing that American Presidents had known of Yamantau was its presence on the targeteering plans for nuclear strikes on the Russian Homeland, for it appeared on every such plan and it was marked as one of the targets that had to be destroyed. If it survived the initial blows, assets were diverted from other, less important targets until Yamantau ceased to exist.

Now, President Dirrel B Johnson had disembarked from Air Force One and was on his way into the massively protected command post. His limousine sped along the straight road that appeared to run parallel through the snow-covered pine trees to the mountain that towered over them. As the car swept along the road, Dirrel B Johnson saw the installations that littered the countryside around them. His host leaned forward.

"Yamantau is a quartz-containing crystal Mister President. It blocks radio, indeed any electromagnetic, transmission completely. Of course, it means we cannot transmit out either so the transmission stations have to be on the outside. It is the one advantage Cheyenne Mountain has over us here. Mind you, your engineers made a bad mistake with Cheyenne Mountain."

"What was that, Minister?"

"They built the command complex inside the mountain. They should have built it under the mountain. That's what we did, there are 9,000 feet of quartz-laced granite on top of our national emergency command post. And even now, our engineers feel the urge to dig even deeper."

The car turned off the main road onto a side-track that seemed little more than a logging trail. It wound through the trees into a fold in the mountain where the snow drifted high against the rock walls that towered high on either side. Ahead of them was an entrance, for all the world looking like that of an old-fashioned mine.

Dirrel B Johnson didn't notice how the fold in the ground curved around so that any blastwave traveling down the valley wouldn't impact directly on the entrance. He did note that, once inside, massive blast doors closed behind him. The S-shaped curves continued inside the mountain, each one designed to mitigate the effects of a near-miss from the most powerful nuclear weapons in the American arsenal. There was only one way to destroy this massive underground fortress and that was to make repeated passes, each dropping a nuclear weapon into the crater from the one before. It was that job that had once been assigned to the B-52s and then to the B-2s.

Dirrel B Johnson left his limousine and was escorted to the elevators that led down into the bowels of the mountain. Even here, the paths were not direct, one elevator would take them part of the way, then there would be more S-curves before another took them further down. Eventually, the lifts and corridors ended in the lowest, safest levels of the complex.

"Welcome Mister President. This is your first visit to Yamantau I believe."

The conference room had a table, a circular one, that occupied most of the floor. There were 20 seats around the table, one for each member of the council. Nineteen were identical, the twentieth was subtly larger and more imposing. Dirrel B Johnson had already been briefed on that, in this room, the Chairman of the Council was just the first amongst equals. Nations had gained their place in this room in one of two ways. Either they had the military and economic power to demand it or they had simply been in the right place at the right time to earn it.

The United States, Australia, Canada, Saudi Arabia, India, Russia, South Africa, Turkey, Argentina, Brazil, Mexico, EU, Israel, Algeria, United Kingdom, China, Indonesia, Japan, South Korea, Indochina. The countries that had been in the fight since the beginning and had scored the first kills against humanity's enemy. There was one great advantage of this council, since it met in secret and its existence was largely unknown, its membership was free of politics.

Mostly.

Vladimir Putin spoke from the Chairman's seat. With the ending of President Dirrel's two years term, he was the most obvious candidate to take over the Chairmanship. The blood shed by the Russian Army along the Phlegethon River saw to that.

"First order of business. The situation in the Netherworld. How is the situation progressing? "

At a side table, Chief of the General Staff Sergey Shoygu stood up. "Members of the Council, the situation in the Netherworld is getting worse, especially in the Northern region, the central government there has collapsed completely. The recently rescued living-dead take advantage of the power vacuum, they organized themselves into a large militia gang then roamed through the countryside murdering every demon they saw. The number of those militias are growing exponentially, we have identified over 300 groups with over a hundred million members. We expected their number to double every three days."

"President Abigor must be quaking in his boots right now." The Indian Prime Minister spoke with a beautifully precise intonation.

"He has made some complaints but is more interested in consolidating his power in Dis. However, the current situation is not in our favor. We have made peace with Abigor in the hope that he may ease the burden of occupation on us, but he is unable to maintain order in the area. The Empire is doing us no favor, they are pouring light weaponry into the Netherworld like never before. They are giving out weapons like candy to anyone who wants them. Swords, bows, arrows, javelins, pistols, revolvers, bolt-action rifles. And the most worrisome thing is the residents there, they love it. They are singing the Empire name."

"Ungrateful bastards! We are the ones who free them from the torments of hell. Not the Empire." The South African president complained.

"Mr. President, revenge is a sweet addiction. Whether it's Odysseus slaughtering the suitors who've taken over his house or the Old Testament intoning, "an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth," the theme of revenge has never lost its luster, as countless contemporary variations in movies and books from high-brow to low attest. From Hamlet to The Count of Monte Cristo to Carrie and Gone Girl, the pulsing energy of revenge keeps us spellbound. After being tormented for so long, it is no surprise that the people there become obsessed with seeking retribution against their enemies. There will be no peace between the living dead and the demons and we should expect nothing less. It's like asking holocaust victims living peacefully with the nazis."

"This anarchy is not in our favor in the long run, we can't mine in the war zone, we should attack the Empire to cut off their source of weapons." The Indonesian President suggested.

"That is unwise, Mr. President. Do so and we will be enemies of 300 billions. Netherworld is 6 times the size of the Earth, our forces have been stretched thin just trying to occupy the Circles of Terror. We cannot win against an insurrection of hundreds of billions of people. We couldn't even defeat the demons if not for their stupid tactic of rushing into our machine guns. If we get bogged down in the Netherworld like the Soviet in Afghanistan, it will greatly degrade our ability to conduct war in Falmart. This is a trap the Empire has laid out for us, we cannot win in a two-front war."

"They are good!"

"Yes they are! This is a political issue, not a military one so it will need a political solution. The Empire already suggested a peace conference to resolve the current situation. I have no doubt they will try to extract as many concessions from us as possible. Possibly something along the lines of the region's neutrality and recognition of their puppet governments." US President Dirrel interjected.

"Then what should we do, we can't let them do what they want."

"We make our own puppet government," Putin pointed at the smart screen showing a picture of an old man. "This bearded guy is Charles Zi Augustus, former Emperor of Darwinian. He has the largest and most organized army among the living-dead warlords in the Netherworld. His government already sent a delegation to our embassy in Dis and asked for diplomatic recognition and arms supply in exchange for free trade. Using his men, we can restore order in the Netherworld. He can be our front-man in the region."

"Is that a risky move?"

"Yes it's, but those who don't have the courage to take risks won't achieve anything in life." Putin exclaimed.

A pattern of applause from 19 Presidents and Prime Ministers followed the bold statement. Putin tapped the table in front of him and smiled benignly at the conference. "Now, we come to the next point of the agenda. This year's relief fund for climate changes.

Secret Underground Facility, The Range of Ice and Snow, Azjania

As the divine Sika Madu entered the massive military complex deep underneath the granite monolith of mount Daihung on a golden triumphal carriage, a large number of happy soldiers came to receive him, cheering and throwing flowers as he passed, the euphoria from his victory was exuberant.

Every moment, without exception, the apostle was bombarded with imperial propaganda but not a single moment he let the fame go into his head. When he was younger there were a few moments when Sika thought he was invincible to the point of being able to do anything no matter what... His master, the God of Creation And Destruction, immediately slapped him hard to bring him out of that almost trance state. From that moment, he had learned the value of humbleness.

Greeting him at the main entrance was his old friend and the oldest member of the 13 Apostles, Mortar Mobkis, Apostle of Duncan, God of Blacksmith.

Towering above most others at the height of 2,7 meters, Mortar takes the form of a tall and handsome ice-giant with a specially-designed eyepatch on his right eye and long, stylish silver hair that spikes up at various spots on his head. He had a leaf-like pattern tattooed across his forehead, a spiked choker necklace lined, and a bead-like earring on his left ear with many smaller piercings. His attire was quite formal and extravagant, with a collar that spans all the way to his upper chest, and badges decorated on the left and right side of his coat. Finally, he wore what looked like a long white jean and a pair of shoes filled with square patterns.

"Long time no see, Sika. Have a good hunt?" Mortar greeted his friend warmly.

"Nothing that I can't handle." Sika replied firmly.

"Still arrogant as always, I see." Mortar teased.

"Confident." Sika corrected.

A slight grin tugged at the corner of his lips. Sika wasn't going to fall into such an obvious provocative trap. He was no longer the hot headed man he used to be.

"So how are you doing recently, old friend?"

Mortar's hand brushed his hair elegantly. "You know, busy as always, going here and there. Making exotic and luxury stuff for kings and gods. Nowaday, most of them just want nuclear bunkers to hide their valuables though. As you can see with this very underground complex." Mortar pointed to the massive complex around them.

"This complex was built under 6,100 meters of diamond-laced granite on a 12 km square area, displaced over four and a half billion tons of rock hewn from the inner mountain. Fifteen thirty-story high chambers are protected from movement, e.g. earthquake or explosion, by a system of giant springs that the chambers sit on and flexible pipe connectors to limit the operational effect of movement. A total of more than 10,000 springs are designed to prevent any of the 15 chambers from shifting more than 1 inch. Its central citadel rested on a magic stabilizer mount which could withstand the seismic shock and pressure of a 150 megaton direct hit against the mountain surface or a nine richte point earthquake with the complex at the epicenter. Within a mountain tunnel are sets of 250-ton adamantine blast doors and another for the engineering department. The doors were built so that they can always be opened when needed. Should a nuclear blast hit the mountain above, they are designed to withstand a blast wave. There is a network of blast valves with unique magic filters to capture airborne chemical, biological, radiological, and nuclear contaminants. It took me 6 month to build this thing. Still, the payouts are good." The giant apostle proudly explained the masterpiece of his.

Looking around, Sika replied. "It surely looks tough!"

As expected from the greatest builder, alchemist and blacksmith in the empire. His artifacts were of unparalleled quality that was rumored to rival that of Duncan himself, thus making him one of the richest of the 13 Apostles. Second only to Giselle, because her Mistress claimed ownership to all the minerals underground.

"So where is it?" His eyes hardened. "Where is my precious prize ?'

"This way." Mortar led the way.

Footsteps rang hollow as they strode down the brightly lit hallways and past the false windows depicting the empire in all its glory. Nothing in their surroundings suggested they were over 3 mile underground. Sika stopped at one of the numerous security checkpoints and submitted himself to the wearisome procedure. Spy bug check. Password. Soul scan. Incessant paranoia it perhaps was, but Earth spies were infuriatingly skilled at sneaking into places they shouldn't even know of.

"Long time no see, Lord Sika. How is the Emperor?" asked Thrain Furguson, Apostle of Ral, God of Learning. His eyes were bloodshot and his fingers drummed the table for a cigarette.

Thrain takes the form of an adult human man of average height with silver hair and a silver mustache. He also has heterochromatic eyes, with a right eye that is silver in color and a left eye that is deep red in color, the latter being covered by a monocle filled with gears. He also wears a gray formal suit with a white shirt underneath and a blood red steampunk top hat. Thrain also wears blood red trousers, a blood red coat over his suit and a pair of black gloves.

"Still pushing for a glorious Hail Mary strike against the enemy."

"We're not ready yet," Thrain griped.

"Well, the public is ready. We'll need to show the people that we too can summon the primordial powers of nature to appease them." Sika accepted the briefing.

"What's our timeline?"

They turned to the head of the research department, Proteus Hotenson, the Apostle of Elange, the God of Knowledge, who was snoring softly.

Proteus takes the form of a tall man with unkempt messy hair and deep black eyes. He wears a black shirt with a sash-like cloth on each side of his shoulder reaching all the way to his thighs. That along with his shirt is being tied tightly with a black rope to his waist. Proteus also wears baggy black leggings and a pair of laced mid-calf boots.

"Proteus !" Sika barked.

His head rose slowly, and he casually inspected his cup. "What?"

"How much longer?"

"The Arachnid Pylon you secured from Tyran III shaved six years off. But unless we can test—"

"Not an option. The Norn-Queen psychic signal is too powerful. We can't risk the chance of the Bug-god discovering."

Proteus shrugged half heartedly. "Then it will be done when it's done, and we pray that it works."

"An estimate," Sika said. "Give us something to work with."

"And then it'll be delayed, and everyone will inevitably be mad. While energy from the sun is the main driver of climate, the climate system itself is very complex, having five interacting components: the atmosphere (air), the hydrosphere (water), the cryosphere (ice and permafrost), the lithosphere (upper rocky layer) and the biosphere (living things). So the effect of changing diurnal cycle can have unintended consequences. We shouldn't be rushed."

Huffing, Proteus waved his hand. "Five years?"

"What of the neural interface?" Mortar asked.

"Has some pesky little glitches. The Norn-Queen really doesn't like me."

"Is it usable?" Sika pressed.

"If you don't care about the long term health of the bug queen, sure."

Victorious smiles illuminated the room, and they all sat a little taller.

Suddenly, out of nowhere all four apostles felt an exploding wave of psion and pushion particles passing through, so powerful that it felt like a star was born. Psion and pushion waves, traveling faster than light, circled the globe three times in less than a nanosecond knocking out any creatures that were overly sensitive to spirit particle emissions.

"This is...!"

Sika Madu's eyes narrowed in displeasure. "An Ascension Event! Prisha, you've gone too far this time."

3 Hours ago, Prisha Manor, Skavenblight, Azjania, Falmart

"Hold tight, Yu!"

"It's about to come out, pull!"

"Keep going, keep pulling! We're almost there! "

"We're almost there, almost there! Keep pulling! 1...2...3. Pull!"

"Got it! I have it, I have her soul." In the operation room, everyone breathed a sigh of relief as they saw Rory's soul had been successfully extracted from Itami's body. The process had been long and exhausting, requiring utmost concentration. Even the slightest mistake could lead to the destruction of the host soul. "Prepare Rory soul for the ritual and take Itami to the recovery room." Prisha ordered her assistant.

"Congratulations, Lady Prisha. We never doubted your success!" Aleister applauded.

"Of course!" Prisha flipped her hair smugly.

"You should take a rest, Lady Prisha. We will need your steady hand in the next ritual." Giselle suggested, offering her right hand to Prisha.

Giselle led her into a sitting room decorated with contrasting shades of gold and purples. A bouquet of flowers rested on the center table—bravas tulips, Prisha's favorite.

"Please, sit," she said, gesturing to one of the armchairs. A servant rushed in with a steaming teapot, and Giselle steadily began to prepare the tea. "I wish to apologize for the last time. I know you mean no harm to that girl."

"It's nothing," Prisha gave a cold smile.

"Spices?" Aleister asked, and Prisha shook her head. He passed her the teacup before serving himself.

Prisha took a sip. The tea blistered her tongue. She took another. "Where is young Lelei?' I haven't seen her this morning."

"She is in the wizarding market, exploring the magic ingredients." Aleister said weakly.

"How coincident!" she said dryly.

"Yes, coincident!" he chuckled awkwardly. Gathering up all his courage, Aleister asked. "What is Project Gautama, Lady Prisha ?"

Anger flashed across her face, and Prisha gingerly broke the scone before dabbing it in the jam. When she spoke, they would have believed her to be the picture of innocence if they didn't know better. "You shouldn't poke around other people's belongings, especially women, sweet Aleister! You know what they say. Curiosity kills the cat!"

"Forgive us, M'Lady, for our intrusion. But you still haven't answered us. What do you intend to do with Sister Rory?" Aleister pressed on despite his dread.

"Nothing detrimental to her overall well-being."

Pointing out the many faults in her logic would be a futile affair. Giselle lifted the edges of her mouth. "I don't think Rory consent for this kind of modification."

Her eyes widened. "Since when do our actions require the consent of the other party? I'm doing her a favor." Prisha said nonchalantly.

What kind of logic was this? Sure, the 13 Apostles could act unilaterally as judges, jurors, and executioners with little to no supervision, but they were not tyrants. There was a reason why a nation of man had to be ruled by man, not immortal demigods. People had to be able to make choices themselves and face the consequences of that choice. Only then they could learn to take responsibility for their own lives.

"It's not yours to decide, Prisha. Her body, her choice." Giselle shooted back.

Giselle's reaction drew a chuckle from Prisha. "You sound just like Sika. That guy always talks about our overwhelming responsibility. Not as a Pontiff. Nor a Guardian. But as the Mentor of the people. Just as he was for so long. About how each person of this Empire is ours to care and protect. But always remember, we serve them. Not the other way around. They will grow weary. They will grumble and hate. But that is the way of all children. They will grow to love and respect you as they did to him, as long as you do the same for them. You embody them. Walk with your head up. Chin out. Proud and strong. They will follow your example."

Seeming quite pleased with herself, Prisha set down her cup. "So what are you going to do?'

"We're going to stop you!" Giselle and Aleister said in unison.

"You think with just the power of you two can ?"

"Not in a fair fight. But we already did.."

"What..?"

Right after Prisha had somehow forced out those words, her tongue went numb and she was completely petrified. Her knees gave way without warning and Prisha dropped to the floor like a sack. Her chest and left cheek crashed heavily onto the marble, but pain, as well as her entire sense of touch, was absent.

Poison—

"Don't worry, it's just a paralyzing venom." said Aleister.

"We can't win but we can cheat. No, it's not in the tea, we're not philistine, the poison is in the floral scent and the teacup handle." Giselle said proudly. There was no point in fighting someone as formidable as Prisha if you could poison them.

[ Not bad! ] Prisha complimented them telepathically.

[ But...]

Suddenly a black shadow appeared behind the two apostles without a sound, there was likely not a single being who had detected its movement.

Prisha, who should have been affected by the paralyzing venom, approached from behind the two apostles with the smoothness of a shadow panther on the prowl, and took out the venomous swords hanging on her waists by their hilts. With that, she drew the swords upwards and linked it to a shallow slash on each of the apostles' exposed left arms.

The two apostles only managed to turn to look back with blank faces after Prisha landed from a long jump backwards, with the short-swords still in her hands.

Vacant expressions of surprise appeared on Aleister's and Giselle's beautiful faces.

"Why…"

"Move…"

The venom's effects manifested immediately and the two apostles tumbled onto the floor softly after voicing that much.

Prisha, displaying a rare sort of grimness on her face, whispered in an extremely soft voice while still on her knees. "—I believe you think it's weird, don't you? About why I could move."

Despite her usual character, Prisha was enraged. Looking down at Aleister, she said. "You use 'Ruby Evergreen' and 'Ruberyl Rufescent' mixed with 'Zakkaria Indigo' as catalysts right ? There are very few poisons in this world that can incapacitate a demigod, the one acting this fast is even rarer. Thus, I chanted an art to counteract the poison before the two of you got closer. It did take quite some time for it to finish though."

Prisha massaged her temples. "How short-sighted you both are! You must know I'm the Sovereign of Antidote, there is no poison in the world I can't detoxify, but you still tried to poison me! To sum it up, the both of you were foolish; foolish enough to deserve dying here right this instant." Prisha coldly told the two insolent juniors and raised the poison swords held in her left hand up high.

The two swords traced a green flash as they flew from her hand, thrown down without any hesitation. They buried themselves with a dull noise, into the stone floor at the tip of Aleister's and Giselle's noses. "But I won't kill you two. In exchange, watch closely at how I make history by creating a god."

Levitating Rory's naked body out of the pool of Bodhisattva Avalokitesvara with just a small gesture from her hand. Opening a dimensional portal, Prisha then gently placed Rory down on a well prepared altar in a secret location 13 km away.

"Time to make history."

While the summoning rituals were generally specific, their main goal was to act as a precaution, to create a perfect bond between the soul and the vessel body. They really only required a summoning circle, a ring of purification carved around a ring of four purging circles, surrounding a ward of summoning.

With just one snap of her fingers, all the candles lit up. An eerie atmosphere enveloped the room as temperature dropped quickly. A luminescent mist or vapor of red hue emanating from her hands and body and with just a wave of her fingers, Prisha summoned her divine weapon.

The Great Nirvana Sword - The ultimate divine weapon which none but those who've attained the Great Nirvana in the Pure Lands can create. This weapon takes the form of a seven-branched sword.

"Let's make sure you won't bother us!"

Prisha held the Great Nirvana Sword above her head and unleashed a downward slash with tremendous force.

"Karma-Destroying Samsara Slash."

And for the first time since Rory was infected by Pandemonium, her karmic value was in the positive range.

"This won't hold for long, I need to do it fast!"

Prisha materialized the Forbidden Grimoire of Reincarnation out of thin air. It was inevitable that those who seek to master the essence of life would try to harness the power of the book. Flipping through the pages, Prisha located the spell she needed. There was no turning back now, she took out the soul stone containing Rory's soul.

I give you the blood…from my veins.

I give you a coin …made from jade stone.

I give you a feather…pulled from an angel's wing.

I give you one anathematized soul .….. and a sanctified one.

Common Destiny — Nirvana Pure World — Lotus Throne — Reincarnation.

As Prisha finished her incantation. Six rings of glowing Sanskrit characters formed over Rory's body, then spiritual energy suddenly burst out from her body and engulfed the world as reality itself seemed to be distorted. The "thing" standing there releasing the colored light could not have been called a human. Standing at the center, the dense spiritual force around Rory was swirling on and off like a heartbeat.

A roar echoed in the underground city.

Yes, even though it had the shape of a human, the "thing" was unmistakably a monster. There is no will, no ego, just a clump of tyranny set on destruction. An avatar of overwhelming destruction. Its glowing appearance gave off the impression of a mythical creature and anyone that sees it will suffer the purest and most fundamental form of fear. Mana was swirling around it as the core, and was mowing down the trees in its blast radius. In this lightless environment, the light emitted from it was so dazzling.

"You... .have to be kidding me."

Prisha felt a slight shock from this phenomenon. The air, ground, and space were all shaking in response to Rory's power. No, more than that. Part of the spiritual power was forming the shape of a metal fragment. It was like a goddess that was wearing her astral armor. As the 'heartbeat' got stronger and stronger, Prisha created a barrier around herself to deflect the upcoming explosion.

"BOOOOOOOM"

The following explosion released a tsunami of light and spiritual power that could easily be felt across the world by any creatures that were overly sensitive to spirit particle emissions. The spirit particle waves were so powerful that it knocked most of them out outright. It was like someone was screaming through a loudspeaker near a bat. As the light decreased its intensity, Prisha could make out the silhouette that was Rory.

"Rory!"

Even though Prisha shouted-there was no reply. It's not like was asleep but she was emotionless, and her blank gaze was looking at the empty space. Her consciousness is hazy, her eyes blurry, she looked like she was drugged by something. Then, her alluring lips parted something to Prisha .

"Ah — Kana. I'm glad. So you were fine." Rory whispered with a gentle voice.

After listening to Rory's words, Prisha knitted her eyebrow; something was off with what she just said. "Dream walking?"

Rory, in a state of ecstasy, opened her mouth and continued. "I was... worried about you. Ever since you've been kidnapped by those Red Lotus Order guys... but I'm glad... I'm really glad..."

Suddenly, Rory made a grim look.

"KATSUTORI!"

Growling like a wild animal, her breathing became more and more disorderly. At that moment, the spiritual power that curled around Rory increased its intensity and blew away both Prisha and Aleister and Giselle who were nearby.

Wuwa ah, ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah!"

On the issue of humanity, Prisha could not believe the roar Rory gave. Like an electrical discharge phenomena, the spiritual power crackling, illuminating the surroundings. Rory bent her legs, stepping on the ground for take-off. The height between the ground and underground facility meant nothing to her. Rory mowed down the trees in her way and started moving somewhere.

In front of a gradually expanding forest, the beast surrounded by a dazzling light is moving forward at an incredible speed. Prisha witnessed this scene from the sky. Rory, who has lost consciousness, is simply a monster. It can be said that she is now a walking disaster in human's form.

"No, you're not run away from me, Dainslaif"

Like a meteor across the night. Rory's field of vision was filled with light. Her body is engulfed in a pillar of light. The attack hollowed out the ground. The impact knocked Rory to the ground but it wasn't enough.

Reacting to the assault, Rory jumps beyond the line of sight and into the sky.

"Ah ah ah!"

Then in her hands, she summoned a double blades weapon Dark Spear which she attempted to use to cut past Prisha.

Prisha knocked the attack back perfectly, and ran closer to the approaching Rory. As the two divine weapons collided with each other, their collective spiritual power created an explosion of sparks.

Up, and down. The attacks came from every angle, Prisha noticed her defenses were starting to waver. The impact from their attacks was released to the surroundings, causing Prisha's feet to sink down to the ground.

It was a weird feeling. Prisha never thought that Rory was capable of fighting with her to such a degree while she was sleep-walking. But the Rory before her was a different Rory.

In the sky, countless flashes of light came from the clash of two blades.

No matter from what angle, Rory drew the image of her absolute territory in order to catch the release of the attack. A barrier appears before the collision of the sword.

Repeatedly clashing in close proximity, Rory uses the opening from Prisha's last attack to counterattack. Prisha quickly evaded and countered Rory's attack before she could release her next one.

However, Dark Spear was a weapon entirely made of soul magic. Structurally, it was class apart from Great Nirvana Sword, which was a real sword coated with high level magic. A greater structure yielded a greater maximum output value.

However, Rory's weapon had a greater consumption rate of magic, whereas Prisha had the advantage of prolonged use. However, at this moment, no one in the world could match Rory in terms of magical power output. Prisha couldn't rely purely on strength alone; to compensate she needs to use her techniques. Not giving Rory any time for a respite, she continued her high-speed attack.

But the opponent is the world's strongest !? She wasn't an opponent Prisha could easily defeat even when she was sleeping. Rory correctly predicted Prisha's attack and gave a counterattack that finally broke Prisha's defensive shield. In fact, even now there is still no wound on Rory's body.

But the situation changed as Prisha finally spotted an opening in her opponent, her eyes became sharp as she swung her Great Nirvana Sword with all her might.

"Ah ah ah ah ah!"

Clang! Accompanied by a loud sound, Rory's Dark Spear flew from her hand and into the sky, slowly dissolving into light particles fluttering in the wind. Although Prisha was no match for Rory in terms of spiritual power, her skills in swordplay and clairvoyance made up for the big difference. As Rory was swinging her divine weapon Dark Spear , Prisha predicted the attack and seized the opportunity.

"Wake up Rory!"

Prisha gave a determined nod, as she stabbed her divine sword straight into Rory's heart. Rory gave a loud resounding roar.

After a few seconds, Rory's frantic breathing gradually began calming down, her spiritual power output started to stabilize. Once the light came back to Rory's eyes, she trembled after realizing that Prisha's blade was piercing her heart.

"Ouch! It really hurt."

Falling to the ground, realizing the gravity of the situation, Rory asked. "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE, PRISHA?"

Before Prisha could say anything, the space itself fractured like glass into shimmering shards of aether, a kaleidoscope of ever shifting pieces of light and dark without any sense of coherence or stability. They were perfectly symmetrical, yet horribly unbalanced.

"Mirror Realm?"

Before Prisha could mutter another word, a dimensional portal opened up near her abdomen and a huge key's tip could be seen extending out at extreme high speed and impaled her vulnerable chest. Exactly when, how, and whence; each of these doubts frantically slalomed around Prisha's head.

Even so, they were sustained for a mere few microseconds. Coinciding with Shika's voice, he rotated the key punctured in Prisha. "Segva — Lock."

"Ah-"

In a fleeting split second, Prisha felt the entirety of her being was sealed. Even for Prisha, if the functionality of her body was sealed, she would not be able to move even a muscle thus she collapsed on the ground like a sack of potatoes.

Mirror Realm

Suddenly a black ellipse was starting to form in the middle of the ever changing landscape. It was hard to say where it was, it seemed to be at once parallel with the ground and at the same time perpendicular to it. It was also hard to say what it was, it seemed black and almost infinitely absorptive yet it also glared and irritated the eyes.

From the ellipse outstep Sika Madu and the other 9 apostles, thus, for the first time in centuries, the 13 Apostles gathered in the same place. It was hard to overstate the importance of something like this. The reputation of the Orthodox Church is at stake.

Seeing Sika Madu, Rory dropped into a deep curtsy as quick as she could, her left arm crossing her chest. "Lord Sika."

Sika Madu glanced at her for a moment then turned his gaze towards the paralyzed Aleister and Giselle lying on the ground nearby. Shaking his head in disappointment, he said. "You arrogant fools, you should have informed me instead of attacking Prisha yourself."

Sika then points his divine weapon, a long staff that looks like a giant key with a blue 6-pointed star inside a circle at one end and a golden key bit at the other end; Key of Heaven; at the paralyzed apostles. "Lataib — Unlock."

Finally regaining their senses, Aleister and Giselle crawled up and ran to kneel in front of Sika, their heads bowed in shame. "Forgive us, Lord Sika!"

Leader of the Apostle Council looked at them with stern eyes. "Lord Urd will handle your punishment." He said, his voice echoing through the space.

The Apostle of the Covenant, Urd Vanitask, bowed his head in obedience. Urd has the appearance of a young man with notably tanned skin and shiny, golden-blond hair styled in a neat manner. He wears a dark vest over a white collared dress shirt. He occasionally dons a formal-styled mackintosh with a high collar. He wears black gloves and a decorated neck tie. Upon his left ear, he has a golden adornment consisting of two clasps upon the upper and lower shells with a hanging charm from the earlobe. Like all true vampires, he has red eyes, fangs, and pointed ears.

Passing by them, Sika approached Pisha, who was lying on the ground, his eyebrows furrowed. Sika stared at her judgingly. Finally, he said as if speaking to a particularly dim-witted child. "Do you even know what you have done? Did you for once stop and consider the consequences? I never thought someone of your age would be so foolish, so spoiled to act as if the world revolves around her! It doesn't matter anymore, your Mistress will be informed and I will leave the details of your punishment to her. Graham, take her away."

The Apostle of the Sun, Graham Kahn, obeyed and took Prisha away. He was a large, very muscular Werelion with a full mane and tail. His humanoid, five-digit hands had sharp claws and padded four-toed feet. He wore a black shirt, animal furs on his shoulders, and a leopard-skin cloth around his waist, secured by heavy chains and a belt with a lion-head buckle. There were bracelets on both his wrists and ankles and bracers on both biceps.

With a heavy heart, Sika turned to Rory, his voice frigid. "So, what should we do with you, Young Rory ?"

"Isn't that obvious, young Rory has been transformed into an Artificial Transcendence Being; a pseudo-god; using profane methods, which means her existence is blasphemous. This may sound harsh but for the sake of the Church's purity, we must put an end to her existence." Urd Vanitask outlined his point of view.

"What—No!" Aleister Cromwell, Giselle Jizeru and Mabel Fornm begged in unison. "Lord Sika, you can't kill Big Sis Rory! Please!"

Their treacly sentiment was shared by three other apostles in the group.

Virginia Kissless, the incumbent Apostle of Fertility, who is a beautiful elven girl of short but very curvy stature with pale skin, yellow-ish blond hair with intake, which she tied in a ribbon along with two ringlet curls in the front, and bright lime green eyes. Her face shows some signs of naivety and displays elegance. She dresses in a revealing red and white dress with long poofy sleeves, a transparent front, leotard, and knee high golden armored boots, giving her a knight-like silhouette. "That is a little bit overreacting, Lord Urd."

Aradia Wicca, the Apostle of Forest, who is a beautiful elven woman, looking around 17 or 18 years old. She had white skin and long silver hair, a large bust, and red eyes with cross shapes in them. She wears a wimple large enough to fall to her ankles, giving her a nun-like silhouette, but also wears a skimpy dancer's outfit resembling a bikini variant and baring her feet and navel. The contradictory outfit made it hard to tell if she is a holy woman or a dancer. "Let's slow down a little bit, shall we?'

Bologna Succuba, the Apostle of Music, who is a beautiful horned and winged woman, appearing college-aged. She has light skin, long, fluffy blonde hair, a large bust, and pink eyes with heart shapes in them. She also has a pair of goat-like horns, a pair of giant, thin bat-like wings with claws in a vaguely heart-shape, and a long tail with an arrowhead-shaped tip, all light pink. Her attire, also all pink, consists of a lacy one-piece corset with rose thorn decorations, similar to what a bunny girl would wear. She also wore stockings, arm covers, stockings and high-heels, but they did nothing to cover up her underwear. "I think we should calm our minds before making any hasty decisions."

"I think we are looking at this problem the wrong way." Thrain Furguson interjected. "What Prisha did was wrong but not without merit. Across the countless alternate worlds, humans started delving into secrets even we don't fully understand. At this rate, isn't it possible that we might lose to them ?"

"Are you defending that traitor?" Mortar Mobkis frowned.

"Not particularly, Lord Mortar, no." Thrain shook his head. "But doesn't it irritate you? Phrase it however you like but you can't deny that we have been left a step behind. Humanity has surely advanced beyond us in terms of research."

"Humans are easy to kill." Graham Kahn said with a dismissive tone.

"Yes, they are. But their weapons are powerful. You have witnessed the power of their mini-sun, haven't you?'

"You mean nuclear bomb?" Proteus frowned, his face paled.

"So who is stronger, us demigods or the fury of the sun? If I recall correctly, your divine weapon Sol Invictus has the power of the sun but can you survive the power of a thousand sun ? Can any of us survive that kind of power while still allowing ourselves to be bound by our oldest laws."

"Are you suggesting we change the Law? Laws that have stood untouched for many millennia ?" Sika finally spoke.

"The Humans, the Old Gods and even our own masters, the New Gods, are making their moves. The only ones who haven't changed in all the time since are us. To be perfectly blunt, M'Lord...That's really kind of dull. Isn't it about time we got serious ?"

"And do what?"

"Well, for example," Thrain pointed to Rory. "How about we test the stability of Prisha's masterpiece ? To see whether or not she can control her powers."

"And if I can't ?" Rory asked suspiciously.

"Then you will prove yourself to be more of a beast than a man, thus, too dangerous to be allowed to leave this place alive," said Thrain, offering her a hand. "Well, Rory Mercury, will you cooperate with us or not ?"

Rory alluring lips pressed together as she analyzed the situation, her crimson eyes briefly stopping on Aleister before shaking Thrain's hand. "Better than being killed, I guess!" Rory said sarcastically.