5th Day of the 1st Fire Cycle[1], 2000 g.c.
The night light of Gaia's tri-moons poured through the jagged wound in the bark of the Sycamore Tree, spilling into the chamber like the eyes of heaven themselves were staring in. What had once been a decadent chamber of vice, glitter, and velvet cushions was now wreckage. Shattered gems crunched under my boots, broken pleasure toys clung to the edges of once-smooth walls, and the air still reeked of caged lightning let loose. In the center of that chaos, I stood in front of the hole I had punched open, my Trance aura still simmering around me in layers of shimmering glaze. The lingering particles of mana drifted like fireflies caught in moonlight, turning me into something between mythical and specter.
The breeze slipped in, carrying with it the earthy perfume of damp leaves and crushed grass, washing out the burnt ozone stink of combat. It cooled the sweat at my temples. My tail, still forged of shimmering mana, lashed against the ruined floor with a nervous rhythm. I let my chest rise and fall once, steadying myself before releasing the transformation that had carried me through the fight.
Before I could shut everything down, I felt it—an unusual current in the mana. The flow of energy was running along the walls, pulled like a tide into the hollow I had opened. Slowly, impossibly, the Sycamore bark began to weave itself back into place. Wooden tendrils stretched across the gap, writhing like muscle fiber knitting over bone, closing the wound until no scar remained.
For just a heartbeat, I swore I heard it groan. The tree itself. That deep, low sound vibrated through my bones, and guilt prickled my skin. I dropped my Trance and let my body settle back into its natural form.
"Sorry about that, Sycamore Tree," I muttered, rubbing the back of my head like a sheepish kid. "I'mma try to be better about that in the future."
Karma purred within me. "Another awesome job, papi."
A tired smile tugged at my lips. "Thanks, Karma. I borrowed the idea from you."
"Yo, Xi!"
The call snapped my focus back. My barriers dropped with my Trance, and the Wolfpak surged forward. Alex was the first to reach me, fist out, grinning wide. I bumped it back, feeling the weight of his pride. Dream Flower and Ameera weren't far behind, their faces still lit by awe, while Nicole wandered straight toward the broken remains of my Death's Mask.
"Hell yeah, bro, that shit was tight! When did you learn how to use Trance again?" Alex asked, eyes still bright with adrenaline.
"Once I evolved into a Midnight Oni and got the Pure Lord Seed, I regained access to the skill."
He whistled, impressed. "So that means I'm on the right path. Awesome. Do Luda and Steez know?"
I shook my head. "Nah. Just you, for now."
Dream leaned in, her voice softer but burning with curiosity. "That was an amazing fight, Xi. Can you teach me how to do that transformation?"
I laughed. "Maybe. If you already got a Spirit Weapon and a Lord Seed, you shouldn't have a problem."
"Aww… see, about the Lord Seed—"
"We can worry about that later."
Ameera tilted her head, studying me. "Lord Xiro, I still don't understand why Zero's transformation failed."
I gave a sly shrug. "Oh, that? He basically pulled a Karissa. Must be somethin' in the air."
Her brows knit, but my grin made her unsure whether I was joking.
Alex couldn't hold his curiosity. "So, do you got a different Trance form for each armament or something?"
"Nah, fool. Trance is tied more to your V-Skill than your Guardian Armament."
"I can't wait to learn that shit," Alex said, almost bouncing. "Wonder what I'll look like."
Dream's eyes widened slightly. "So only Godwalkers and Mythwalkers can reach it?"
"To my knowledge, yeah. Without an Aeon inside, there's nothing to fuel the transformation."
"No wonder it made you look divine," Ameera said quietly. "It was like looking at an Inner God brought to flesh."
Alex fished into his pouch, then pulled out three radiant fruits. The skin of each shimmered with faint sigils, a pulsing golden-orange glow beneath the peel. He tossed one to me and one to Dream, catching her off guard with the smoothness of the move.
"Yo, my nigga, I've been meaning to give you these," he said. "Here's one for you, too, Dream."
Dream turned the fruit over in her hands. "This is that same healing fruit you gave Ameera."
"They're called Arcanum Delights," Alex explained, his tone proud. "Found 'em leaving the labyrinth. They heal everything, restore mana, the works. Xi, be sure to clone it first so we can stockpile. I'm down to my last four."
"Will do. Thanks, my nigga." I slipped mine into the [Midnight World], feeling [Moon Sage: Tsukuyomi] already appraising it in the back of my head.
While the others talked, Nicole was still crouched by the shards of my Death's Mask. She touched them gently, almost reverently, like the pieces were calling to her. Her violet hair framed her face, shadowing her expression until I spoke.
"It's broken, cutie," I said. "Guess we're maskless for the rest of the party."
Her ruby eyes flicked up, dazed. "It's still warm. Like… it captured a piece of your soul inside."
"Probably just hot from being on my face all night. Hold on to it for me. I don't need the artifact to study its revival ability anymore."
That line froze everyone. Dream's head whipped toward me, followed quickly by Alex and Ameera.
"Xiro," Dream said carefully, "did you just say 'revival'? As in resurrection magick?"
Ameera's voice tightened. "That mask can bring someone back to life?"
"You can revive people now?" Alex asked, eyes wide.
"Calm down," I said, raising a hand. "Yes, the mask can revive its wearer. No, I can't bring people back yet. I'm still figuring out how it worked."
Hope and unease flashed across their faces. For once, silence was heavier than panic.
Dream Flower exhaled, half a laugh. "You Divine Beasts never play by the rules of life."
Nicole drifted back toward us then, cradling both halves of the mask against her chest. The joyful warmth of her mana leaked out like she was hugging a child. Dream caught it instantly, a smirk tugging her lips.
"With no pockets in that dress, where are you gonna keep those?"
"Under my breasts," Nicole said flatly.
Dream broke into laughter. "Hah! Girl, I see you had a plan."
Nicole flushed, stammering, "Shut up, Dream. I-I'm just keeping them safe."
"And using those big mommy pillows to do it," Dream teased. "Smart storage, girl."
Nicole's blush deepened, her whole face pinking beneath her pale skin. It was cute, but I decided to spare her and shift the subject.
"Speaking of artifacts, I wasn't expecting the Panty Raiders to have something like that Black Mirror. A time-traveling ancestor ghost reflection? That's a first for me."
Nicole's gaze sobered. "That's because they're led by the most powerful witches in Endora's time. Still, compared to the Holy Lands sector, we're fighting their weakest branch."
"Sector?" I asked. "There's more than one group?"
Dream nodded. "Two. The sister sector runs Babylonia's Arena Rap Battles. They're celebrities over there."
"If all witches carry relics that dangerous," Ameera said, "it may be wiser to avoid them entirely. Stealth over confrontation."
Alex shook his head. "I can't. I'm searching for one witch in particular. She's tied to my father's death. I won't waste this chance."
Ameera's eyes narrowed. "And what of my father? Did his life lose value in your pursuit of vengeance?"
"No! That's not what I meant—"
"Then we should focus on saving him first," she snapped, "and feed your bloodlust later."
Their argument blurred into background noise. My focus snapped to the corner—faint, pulsing mana. Someone was still alive. Zawa.
I left the others mid-argument and walked to where the Lilituu lay sprawled. Her body glistened, a porcelain-beige canvas dusted with sweat. Light pink nipples, jeweled with mana-pierced gems, drew the eye without mercy. Her red hair spilled across her face, hiding the soft grin she wore even unconscious. She looked less like a defeated enemy and more like a satiated sinner.
I knelt, set my palm on her left breast, right over her heart, and murmured, "Soft ass titty."
Her heartbeat was slow, Majin-slow, but steady. After a few firm squeezes, I cast [Absolute Spell Removal]. My mana stripped hers bare, pulling away magick protections and the mana suffocation alike. The moment it hit, she gasped awake, sucking down air like she'd been drowning.
The chamber's enchantments, altered by my hand, immediately surged against her. Truth serum, unshakable, clamped onto her soul. Her silver eyes fluttered open and found mine. We froze together, my hand still cupping her chest. Then, slowly, that devious grin curled her lips. She laid her hand over mine, fingers warm against my skin.
"Seems I lost, and never stood a chance," she whispered. "I guess that makes me yours, right?"
"Oh yeah," I chuckled. "The bet. Never had a sex slave before. Do I just feed you dick and take you out for walks or what?"
Her grin widened. "That actually sounds lovely. Don't tease me with a good time."
Zawa stood on her feet with slow, feline grace, tilting her head upward just enough to inhale the scent of my mana signature as though it were a luxury cologne. A flick of her tail, a sweep of red hair, and all the swollen aura was gone. What stood before me wasn't the fighter from before, but a woman in little more than a thong and silver eyes that burned with hunger.
"I can't say I didn't see this outcome," she said, her tone playful despite the weight of defeat. "At least I tried."
"Why don't you tell me what's up with that pill you took?" I asked, narrowing my eyes. "And who did you say gave you that artifact?"
She let out a teasing whine, pouting even as she looked me up and down like a predator circling a prize. "Aww. But I'm so thirsty, and my stamina's low. You could at least give me some of your liquid mana first."
I stared at her in silence for a moment, watching the way her lips glistened as she licked them. My mind flirted with the idea of just tearing through her memories, stealing the information by force. It would've been quick, clean, and efficient. But it was also shortsighted. There was opportunity in Zawa, and I didn't plan to waste it. [Midnight Star: Belial]'s influence burned hot in my chest, feeding my pettiness. I knew how much Headtrip adored Zawa, and here she was under the truth serum enchantment, revealing she couldn't care less about him. Her desires were laser-locked on me. I could weaponize that.
"How about this?" I said, stepping closer. "You answer all my questions, and I'll grant you one request."
Her grin widened into something more mischievous. "Oooh? Pinky promise?"
We linked pinky fingers; her hand was surprisingly soft and warm against mine. She looked far too excited about such a simple gesture, but I didn't need [Telepathy] to know exactly what she would ask for in return. Everything was going according to plan. The bait had been taken.
"So, like, Orion gave three of us these artifacts to use," she began, her tone casual, like she was talking about trading cards. "He said they'd help us deal with the strongest M-Cees, Blade Dancers, and Sword Singers we'd come across."
"Orion," I repeated, my eyes narrowing. "A Trapper, right? One of those Angels."
Alex walked over with the others, frowning. "A Trapper?"
"Righty-oh!" Zawa chirped. "He's the head of the other Angels."
Dream Flower gasped, her eyes gleaming with excitement. "Holy shit, I might get to see an Angel tonight? This night keeps getting more fun."
Alex shook his head grimly. "If you do, be ready to fight for your life."
I pressed on. "How long have y'all been working with the Trappers?"
Zawa tilted her head back, thinking, then shrugged. "Umm, about five years now. Although tonight was the last night of our contract, since we finished the production of the requested pill shipment."
The word "shipment" made my ears perk. "Pill production?"
But that was all Ameera needed to hear. Her patience, which had been stretched thinner and thinner by the second, finally snapped. She stepped forward, her ears sharp and her tail bristling. "Where are you holding the Wolven prisoners?"
Zawa let the question hang, deliberately ignoring her. She smirked, her silver eyes flicking from Ameera back to me. "You're not Xiro Mikazuki, so your question doesn't matter to me."
Ameera's fangs flashed as her muzzle tightened with rage. I could almost hear the growl vibrating in her throat. Yet, I wasn't about to let Zawa win on a technicality.
"Don't be a lil' smart ass," I snapped. "Answer her question. I wanna know too."
Zawa pouted, then cooed, "Aww, foofy. Fine, new master. Most of the Wolvens died last month. There are, like, only five or so still alive."
Ameera's voice cracked. "Oh, no. Father…"
Alex's fists clenched, his tone sharp. "Melech?"
"Yeah," I added, my voice low and edged. "One with dark brown fur and one eye, is he still alive?"
Zawa tapped her chin. "One eye…? Umm… Oh yeah, the one Kiranna sent here last. He was in bad shape, but still breathing."
Ameera's body shuddered with relief. The fear left her eyes just enough for her to catch her breath again.
"What floor is he being kept on?" I asked.
Her grin returned, impish and hungry. "So many questions, Master Xiro. If I answer this one, will you finally let me get a taste of that mana? Your signature is driving me insane, and I'm dying of thirst over here."
Alex frowned, confused. "Taste your mana? What is she talking about, bro?"
Zawa licked her lips, smirking. "I'm trying to suck his dick, but he's making it difficult."
Ameera's ears twitched as she exhaled through her nose. "Oh, well… my… Can we focus a bit?"
Dream Flower laughed, clapping her hands together. "Okay then, girl. Hehehe. You've got competition, Nicole."
"Shut up, Dream," Nicole hissed, her ruby eyes flaring.
Zawa turned back to me, her voice sultry and matter-of-fact. "I'm a Lilituu. A daughter of lust. Demons like me feed off life force. And nothing is better than a strong male."
"Fine," I said, folding my arms. "But you answer first."
That was all she needed. She dropped to her knees before me in one fluid, practiced motion, biting her lip as one hand trailed down her own body.
"Then you'll want to check Floor 34 for the last prisoners," she whispered, almost moaning the words. "But you'll have to get past Azumi on Floor 30 to get there. Especially since most of the elevators are turned off now."
The name Azumi struck Nicole like lightning. She froze, her entire body stiffening. A rush of incomplete memories sparked in her eyes, flooding her with anger she couldn't place. Behind the rage was guilt—heavy, suffocating guilt. Even though her memories as a spy were gone, her soul hadn't forgotten. Melech. Roman. The town of Vivian. The scars still lingered, even if the details didn't.
Meanwhile, Zawa's voice dripped like honey. "If you all are after Kiranna as well, you might find her on Floor 40 somewhere."
Alex's eyes went wide. "Kiranna? You mean…"
"The Blood Imp," Zawa cut in, her grin never fading. "The one who recently helped attack a town in Velonica. We figured you all came here after her."
"She is definitely one of the reasons we're here," I confirmed.
That was all Alex needed. His fire returned, blazing through his veins. "We have the info we need. Let's hurry and rescue Melech so I can take her down."
But Zawa clung to me, grabbing my waist-cape with a needy desperation. "But he can't go. Master Xiro pinky promised me."
Her grip was like iron, and the look she gave me was even stronger. It didn't bother me, though. I needed more out of her, and I knew exactly how to get it.
"Alex," I said, my voice steady. "You take them three with you, and y'all go ahead of me. There's still some information I need to collect from her brain."
Alex studied me for a beat, then nodded. "Oh? Ok then, bro. Let's roll, ladies. I see the exit over here."
As the Wolfpak started to move, Zawa's hands slid across my thigh, tracing up toward my pelvis. She nibbled her bottom lip, her silver eyes glued to the bulge she clearly wanted access to.
Seconds later, I raised a thin divider using [Absolute Elemental Manipulation]. The barrier removed the voyeurism, hiding us from the Wolfpak's view. As the shadows wrapped around us, I loosened my bioarmor and pulled free what Zawa had been so desperately hunting for.
Her eyes lit up like a starving tiger presented with a feast. "Oh my devil! I didn't know they could get this big and pretty. Mmmnm…"
"While you play with that," I muttered, already reaching with my own powers, "I'm going to check out your memories."
The Wolfpak had already begun heading for the exit, though Nicole's steps faltered when Zawa's muffled remarks slipped through the divider. Her ruby eyes trembled with something raw, a storm she couldn't control. Jealousy. Envy. Desire. She wasn't ready to face it, but the sound of Zawa wrapping her lips around me was the push she needed to recognize the truth she'd been avoiding.
The divider wasn't much—just a stretched tree bark and gemstone between poles of raw mana, but the mana did nothing for sound. Every breath, every muffled laugh, every wet shift of lips carried through like whispers down a tunnel.
On the other side, Zawa's voice hummed low. "Mmm... you really taste great."
I chuckled under my breath, one hand tangled in her hair, my body caught between pleasure and restraint. The chamber pulsed faintly with the pressure of my mana, each breath leaking sparks into the air until the divider glowed like a lantern.
And just past it, I felt Nicole's presence. She didn't move, didn't speak, but her heartbeat rattled faintly against the magitons of the room—fast, uneven. Like a drumline trying to hide inside silence.
I felt her breathing quicken when Zawa moaned.
Nicole's fingers clenched around her own arm, nails biting her skin. She whispered something to herself. "Why him? Why now?"
She didn't even realize she'd said it.
The lewd sounds only got louder as she echoed her question to herself again.
Zawa pulled back with a laugh, oblivious to the weight crushing the other side of the room. "Don't tell me you're getting distracted, master."
But I was. Nicole's mental struggle bled into the atmosphere, twisting the air. The wall sheet trembled like it couldn't decide whether to stand as a wall or collapse for the drama.
She took another breath, shaky. Then she pressed her palm flat against the divider. Her mana seeped through, a trembling pulse that brushed against my aura—like someone reaching through water to touch fire.
The contact snapped, and mana threads popped in tiny sparks of blue.
Nicole yanked her hand back, startled. Her eyes were wide and wet.
That was her turning point. Nicole bottled it up, clutched her chest, then finally forced herself to jog after the others. But the storm inside her didn't leave—the shit only grew stronger.
As several wet and pleasurable minutes passed, the chamber was filled with obscene music. Zawa's slurps and moans ricocheted off the fractured stone like a chorus designed to distract me. Her mouth worked me with both hunger and finesse, like a surgeon tracing invisible seams. It was relentless, a rhythm of suction and tongue that made my mind fog and my body quake. She treated me like a living waterbottle, swallowing a nigga greedily as her nails grazed my thighs.
Every pulse of euphoria made it harder to keep my focus locked while memory pillaging. Still, with [Heaven's Kaleidoscope], I could view several reflections at once, combing through her memories even as she worked below. Images flickered past me: Orion telling them stories about the Devil of Velonica, Taurus yelling at Panty Raiders about touching him, the roots of the Sycamore Tree twisting beneath black waters, and shadows of other witches circling rituals I had never seen before.
Then I locked onto one memory in particular. Zawa, sitting in a candlelit chamber with Luvina. The witch's voice curled like smoke, laying out her intent to use me as a weapon against the Trappers. A backhanded alliance, "the enemy of my enemy." The witches had a direct line to the Angels and were preparing to call them tonight. They wanted to let wolves and lions tear at each other until only one predator stood.
I didn't mind. The Trappers were already on my hit list. Now I just had spoilers of their surprise. What Luvina personally wanted from me remained a mystery, but I learned enough: she was already willing to hand Kiranna over like sacrificial meat. The Umdori didn't belong to Gaia any more than the Trappers did, but she was knee-deep in this planet's cursed fate. Maybe Sonata holders were just destined to be pawns on someone else's board.
I didn't have time to dwell. A sudden wave of weakness tore through my muscles, locking every fiber before the tension snapped loose in bliss. My body convulsed as I orgasmed, hot release tearing out of me in a flood. The sensation hit so deep it yanked me apart from [Midnight Star: Belial], the synchronization ending in a single breath of satisfaction. I could feel him growling in my mind, protesting as I slumped back. Zawa's giggling filled the chamber like a bell.
"Now that was fun," Belial's voice rumbled inside me. "You see how much better you feel when you stop resisting?"
"Did we really just stay behind to get our dick sucked?" I muttered back in thought.
"...And you're welcome, Boss."
Then [Moon Sage: Tsukuyomi]'s cool voice followed. "The sexual release fulfilled the desire anchoring Death's Mask. The craving is spent, and you are restored to full control."
I sighed. "...You two."
"Again," Belial laughed, "you're welcome."
That was when Headtrip stirred. The Oni rose unsteadily to his feet, his body bruised from being Zero's landing cushion. His ears twitched, catching the wet sounds he'd been hearing in his half-conscious haze. His mind raced, clinging to the impossible recognition of the voice beyond the divider. He wanted to deny it—until she spoke.
"Mmm, that was so delicious," Zawa purred, licking her lips. "And so much… look, I've got it all over my face and horns."
"You did that on purpose," I said, still half-breathless.
"Hehehe. Maybe."
Then his voice cracked through the chamber, broken and frantic. "Za… Zawa?! Zawa, is that you I hear?"
"You should probably answer him," I told her, amused.
She didn't even hesitate. "Why? My champion lost the duel. Which means he and I no longer date, and I can fulfill my end of the agreement."
"He's gonna be mad."
As if scripted, the divider gave way when I leaned against it without thinking. A hairline crack ran through the paper-thin wall, and with my unrestrained strength, it shattered like glass touched by frost. The divider fell apart in chunks, and Headtrip's wild eyes met the scene he had dreaded.
"Za…wa? What's going on here? What's all over your face?" His voice shook, the words clawing through denial.
I straightened up, tucking my dick away, and said, "Good thing I'm done with her brain for now. Well, while y'all work that out, I'mma go catch up with my team." I turned, sealing my bioarmor back into place.
Headtrip's lip trembled. "Babe… is he saying what I think he's hinting at?"
"Headtrip, could you shut up?" Zawa replied sharply. "You're killing my high right now."
"Your hi… high?" His voice cracked higher. "Your fucking high?!"
He reeled, teeth bared, his whole body seizing with violent intent. His arm twitched to strike her down right then. But as his fist rose, I turned back slightly and gave him a smile—cold, cruel, deliberate. It was more than a grin. It was a blade shoved into his sanity. His arm froze mid-swing, trembling as his rage lost all bearings and spilled over into pure crash out.
And Zawa sealed it. She leaned close and kissed his cheek, leaving streaks of me smeared between them like cruel proof.
Headtrip's mind shattered audibly in the silence that followed. "Zawa? No… no, you wouldn't… What's on your—?!" His words broke apart mid-breath. His fists clenched, unclenched. His chest heaved like it couldn't decide between laughter and a scream. Then the laughter died, and all that was left was rage.
"We're finished, Headtrip," Zawa said, her tone mocking and sweet. "Go enjoy Kiranna some more. I'm Xiro's new sex slave now."
The words hammered the final nails into him. His breath hitched. His aura erupted in a storm. The Magic Gems on his wrist hummed like shrieking engines, their glow feeding his cyclone of mana. Teal-green light bled into the chamber as his eyes burned with pure, murderous intent. The wind tore across the battlefield debris, howling like a tornado.
Before I could even take another step, he moved. Zawa didn't see it coming. His right hook slammed across her face with the fury of a prime Mike Tyson, sending her skidding across the broken floor until her body slammed into a jagged rise of stone. The crash echoed like thunder, but I didn't turn back.
Headtrip ripped into his item bag and pulled free a clawed gauntlet artifact, three blades extended from it like the talons of some mythical beast. He strapped it on with a snarl, and his entire body bent low, shaking with the feral energy radiating from him.
"You will die for your disrespect!" His voice was raw, manic. "You will die for this betrayal!"
He blurred, claws flashing toward my temple. The air screamed between us, his mana slicing through my aura like a razor. Close—too close. My [Auto Evade] dodged first. Next, I planted my feet and drove my shoulder into my fist as I slugged him across the jaw. His face bent around my knuckles as if it were clay, then snapped back as I launched him clean through the wall. Stone erupted outward in a plume of dust and mana sparks as his body vanished into the night, a shooting star of failure screaming into the horizon.
"That felt almost as good as the orgasm," I muttered, flexing my hand.
The charged sparks flicking off my skin betrayed the truth—I had lost my temper. Maybe it was seeing him strike Zawa. Maybe I had wanted to deck him since the elevator ride. Either way, I didn't regret it.
The Sycamore Tree groaned above as its roots began to knit the wound in its structure again. I sighed, giving it a quiet apology for a second hole in its body. Behind me, Zawa laughed—loud, wicked, jubilant—as if Headtrip's forceful exile was the greatest entertainment she had ever witnessed.
Zawa's laugh rang through the ruins, blood still on her lips, spite still blazing in her eyes. I didn't trust her. I never would. But I didn't need trust. I needed weapons—and spite made the sharpest blades.
Bitches are dangerous. Bitches are vindictive.
And in the words of Dr. Dre, bitches ain't shit.
[End of Chapter]
[1] April on Earth.