[R-18 In the beginning portion]
In the Vossmere Consortium's highest spire, Archie and Layla Vossmere lounged in their private quarters—a opulent chamber of floating gold orbs and shadow-silk drapes, holographic feeds displaying every corner of the auction house.
Archie sipped aged void-wine, silver hair catching the light. "Elara's doing well. The boy—Ash—he's beginning to open up more."
Layla nodded, dark hair flowing, her Cosmic Eyes of Truth focused on the VIP feed. "He's more than he seems... His creation ability is uncanny; in just a blink of an eye he created earrings that could passively boost bloodlin---
She froze, eyes widening as the feed showed Ash and Elara's kiss deepening, hands roaming.
Archie's brow arched. "Well, that's… bold."
Layla's cheeks tinted faintly, her gaze lingering as Ash's shirt vanished.
'That… physique. Ridiculous. And that…'
Her eyes drifted lower as Elara's hand tugged at his pants, Ash's cock springing free—impressive, veined with rose-pink essence that pulsed with desire.
'Gods… it's like a weapon. Tsk...'
Archie noticed, chuckling. "Old woman, you're staring."
Layla shot him a glare, but her thighs pressed together. "Quiet Arch. And what's gotten into her… she's moving fast."
On the feed, Elara knelt, lips parting as she took him into her mouth—slow, teasing, tongue swirling.
Archie sighed, waving a hand—golden arrays flaring.
Concealment deployed on the VIP booth—blocking all prying eyes, including theirs.
The feed went dark.
Archie stood up as he spoke. "Let her have her fun.... It's rare seeing her with a smile like that... You know her mind is always on her parents... But watch him closely after. Gold like that doesn't stay unclaimed."
Then he vanished.
Layla Vossmere sat alone in the private quarters now, the holographic feed from the VIP room still active despite Archie's departure.
The concealment array he had deployed blocked external eyes, but not hers—she had overridden it with a subtle flick of her Cosmic Eyes of Truth, curiosity overriding caution.
The feed showed everything.
Ash and Elara, lost in each other.
Layla's breath caught as she watched Elara straddle Ash, her granddaughter's adaptive body shifting to perfect curves, silver hair cascading like liquid moonlight. Ash's hands roamed—strong, possessive—pulling Elara closer as she rode him slowly at first, then faster, moans echoing in the feed's audio.
Layla shifted in her seat, thighs pressing together.
'Why… after all these eras?' she thought, heat building low in her belly, wetness pooling despite herself.
Sex had lost its meaning to her millennia's ago.... Archie had long passed interest; even she had thought desire dead. But watching Ash—his ridiculous beauty, the way his dual-hued eyes burned with lust, his cock driving into Elara with rhythmic power—stirred something primal.
'That body....'
On the feed, Ash flipped Elara onto the cushions, taking her from behind—wings flaring, thrusts deep and relentless. Elara cried out, adaptive form arching, nails digging into silk as she climaxed first—body shuddering, silver hair whipping.
Layla's hand slipped between her thighs unconsciously, fingers pressing through silk robes, breath ragged.
Ash followed—growl low, hips slamming as he filled her, rose-pink essence flaring faintly.
Elara collapsed, spent.
Layla climaxed quietly—alone, biting her lip to stifle a moan, millennia of restraint cracking.
The feed flickered—two days had passed in the room's time-dilated pleasure, the auction raging on.
The announcer's voice boomed.
"Final lot of the Galactic Auction: Paragon Peak—the Nexus of Boundless Desire!"
Bidding exploded—trillions thrown from four galaxies.
Nocturne bid high.
Asura representatives countered with thunderous bids, their voices echoing like war drums.
Phoenix envoys joined, flames flaring in their galleries as they pushed higher.
But a mysterious bidder—masked, calm—pushed highest.
Sold—for unimaginable fortune. Trillions of mana stones, a sum that could buy worlds.
The hall erupted in shock and envy.
In the VIP room, time had blurred—two days of wine, conversation, and heat lost in each other. Elara lay curled against Ash's chest on the shadow-silk cushions, her adaptive skin flushed rose-gold, silver hair tangled from hours of passion. Ash's wings draped loosely over them, his hand tracing lazy patterns on her back.
A soft chime—her talisman glowing.
Elara stirred, reading the message with a sigh.
"Grandfather… he's set a meeting for tomorrow. Several parties want to know the forger behind the items. And you're… requested."
Ash's dual-hued eyes opened, smile faint.
"Requested, huh? I'll go."
He rose, manifesting clothes—black with rose-pink accents—and the mask, concealing his face once more.
"Well, love... I'll see you tomorrow." He said before he left the room, mask in place, presence veiled.
----
As he left the room, he activated his laws. The Law of Silence, at full force, muted his steps. The Law of Illusions spun phantoms, while the Veil of Unwritten Existence erased every trace of him.
'Now.... it's time to send off presents~' As he thought this he immediately dove into the shadows as he began to follow the Nocturnes.... and Liam.
He trailed Liam through the Consortium's corridors—Liam and his ten Stellar Sovereign guards, their auras thick with paranoia after the auction.
Ash drifted through the crowd like a shadow, the Veil of Unwritten Existence erasing every trace of him—no Fate threads, no scrying to find him, no memory left behind in passing minds. The Law of Silence smothered each step, while the Law of Illusions spun subtle distractions to draw eyes away.
He was there, yet not—ten meters back, twenty, always tucked neatly into the edges of their awareness.
Hours passed.
The group moved through Vossmere Prime's endless golden corridors, winding past lively trade districts where merchants peddled relics from dead galaxies. Liam barked sharp orders, paranoia edging his voice as he snapped at guards to scan every shadow.
They paused at a private lounge—Liam gulping blood-wine, grumbling about Ash... and sending assassins to kill him before he leaves. Outside, Ash leaned against a pillar that wasn't really there, as still and patient as death.
Another hour.
They made their way to a secure teleport array, guards closing in to form a perimeter, auras flaring to keep prying eyes away.
Liam stepped through first, his destination set for the private docks.
Ash slipped in after the last guard, space bending around him, the Law of Paradox making it as if he'd already arrived.
They stepped out onto a hidden orbital platform where sleek Nocturne starships rested like crimson predators, their hulls streaked with veins of blood-crystal and engines thrumming with void power.
Liam boarded the flagship—a colossal vessel forged in the shape of a fanged maw, its crimson hull veined with pulsing blood-crystal, engines thrumming with void-tainted power that made space itself shudder.
The escorts split with disciplined precision: six Stellar Sovereign guards peeling off to secondary cruisers, their auras flaring briefly in salute, while four remained at Liam's side, shadows in crimson armor.
Ash slipped aboard the flagship—unseen, unheard. Veil of Unwritten Existence cloaked him in conceptual nothing, Law of Silence muting even the whisper of his breath, Law of Illusions weaving faint distortions that fooled sensors and eyes alike. He was a ghost among ghosts, trailing Liam's group through the labyrinthine corridors of black metal and glowing runes.
Hours drifted by in the endless void.
The fleet jumped—spatial folds tearing open with violent rips, galaxies streaking past in blurred rivers of starlight as they hurtled toward Nocturne Prime. Inside the command deck, bathed in blood-red illumination, Liam paced like a caged predator, scarred face twisted in rage, silver hair disheveled.
"That bastard… thinking he can humiliate me?" he snarled to his four remaining guards, voice dripping venom. "When we return, we must send extra assassins—tsk I can't believe that bastard survived."
The guards nodded grimly, auras restrained but alert.
Ash lingered in the shadows of a dim maintenance corridor—patient, eternal, Primordia sheathed but humming faintly at his side.
Another jump—space folding again, stars blurring.
Then another.
The fleet dropped out of folds near a neutral resupply station—a cluster of asteroid docks orbiting a dim red star, neutral ground for weary travelers.
Liam, overconfident in his own power and the safety of numbers, waved off his guards with a dismissive gesture. "Handle the resupply. I need… personal time."
The four Stellar Sovereigns bowed and departed, leaving him alone in his opulent private quarters—walls of blood-crystal, bed of shadow-silk, the air thick with the scent of iron and roses.
Doors sealed.
Silence.
Ash stepped from the shadows—swift, inevitable.
Primordia flashed into his hand, blade igniting in rose-pink cosmic fire.
Calamity Law: Edict of Origin Blood.
Blood lingering in the ship—from old battles etched into the walls, from Liam himself pulsing in veins—answered Ash's call. Silent crimson chains erupted like living veins, coiling around doors, smothering alarms in blood-muffled voids, sealing the room in absolute quiet.
Liam spun—scythes flaring into existence with a crimson flash, Ninth Calamity aura surging like a blood storm, eyes widening in shock and fury.
"You—!"
Too late.
Primordia struck—Law of Paradox warping his scythe defense into useless angles, Law of Ruin rotting his aura like acid on flesh.
Liam's own blood began rebelling, his veins rupturing in explosive bursts, essence devouring from within as crimson mist sprayed.
One stroke—clean, silent, inevitable.
Head severed, rolling across shadow-silk with a dull thud.
Body fell—crumpling in a heap, blood pooling dark.
Ash stood over the corpse a moment—smile cold.
He vanished—space folding in rose-pink ripple, leaving no trace, no echo.
The guards would return to a corpse.
And a message already bound for Nocturne Prime.
Just a small gift.
Of what was to come.