5th Day of 1st Fire Cycle[1], 2000 g.c.
The Kinky Diamond Chamber had a pulse all its own. From the moment we stepped onto the floor, it greeted us like a lustful lover—full of flirtation and subtle threats. Crystalline furniture sparkled under the mana-saturated air, their sculpted curves designed to resemble tied wrists, arched backs, and parted lips frozen in time. The jewel-embedded pillars glistened with faint light from embedded Magic Gems, while the soft scent of vanilla and sizzling popcorn played tug-of-war with the heavier musk of condensed mana clusters dancing around us like pollen charged with temptation. The whole space was sealed from the outside world—no windows, no natural light—just crystal walls and dim ambient glow, making it feel like we were inside a fantasy harem locked in a snow globe of sin.
In the center of it all, the battle raged.
Alex and Dream Flower had already ditched their masquerade masks, stepping fully into the roles they were born—or forged—for. Alex opened both palms and shot forward a quintet of fireballs.
"Fire Mana Arts: Ember Shots!"
Each orb flew like a comet, trailing burning orange-red flame toward a particularly aggressive emerald-colored dollgirl. The fireballs slammed into her ribs, cracking her pristine structure and sending her teetering backward—but not down. I could see the heat warp along her fractures, like she was melting from the inside but fighting to stand.
Dream Flower didn't waste the chance.
"Crash and slash—Enhanced Wind Mana Arts: Rapid Gale Needles!"
Green and white mana twisted around her arm like a storm forming in seconds. With a snap of her wrist, hundreds of sharp, thin mana shards burst from her palm, racing forward like miniature javelins. They honed in on the emerald dollgirl's weak points and pierced deep—shattering her chest and slicing her in half midair.
Nicole gasped. "Nice! They defeated another one!"
Ameera jumped with a cheer. "Yay! Kick their glassy ass, Lord Alex!"
Unfortunately, the Crystal Dollgirls weren't here for the applause. Three of them retaliated instantly—one blue, one gold, and one black. A lightning bolt. A concentrated ray of solar light. A chaotic burst of Yin mana, like pure melancholy made tangible.
The triple barrage hit like a truck.
Boom.
The spells collided into Alex before he could properly dodge, engulfing him in a swirling explosion of smoke, sound, and pressure. He flew backward, hit the floor hard, but rolled into a defensive crouch with a loud snarl.
"Oh no, Lord Alex! Be careful!" Ameera called out, panic in her voice.
I rubbed my chin, eyes narrowing. Their attacks weren't random—they were coordinated. And something told me they were learning.
I spoke aloud, mostly to myself. "Those dollgirls seem weaker to physical damage than magical. But if they touch them, they'll get encased in crystal."
[Moon Sage: Tsukuyomi]'s voice filled my mind like a ripple across still water.
"You're correct, Master. The use of external objects will keep them out of range of the defensive countermeasures. Physical touch is their condition trigger."
"Y'all, stop wasting MP and use weapons," I called out.
"But they don't have any equipment, Lord Xiro. Are you going to create them some?" Ameera asked, tilting her head.
Nicole's eyes sparkled. "Dream Flower does."
Dream sighed. "Dang-it, Nicole. I was going to keep that a secret for a bit longer. But fine..."
She spread her stance, her feet pivoting slightly outward. A cluster of spiritons formed around her hand like a miniature nebula, swirling blue and violet. The energy coalesced with a hum, snapping into the shape of a sleek, aegir-blue spear. Its aura stretched wide, humming with regal power.
"Sunshower—[Spirit Weapon: Tarika Blue]!"
I smiled.
"Oh? She has a Spirit Weapon, huh? Explains her interest in Guardian Armaments before."
Headtrip scoffed. "You said that's a Spirit Weapon? That's ancient thaumaturgy, bro. That magick was hot like, two thousand years ago. Everyone uses artifacts now. They're easier."
Nicole nodded. "Most artists and warriors prefer artifacts because of the convenience of use and ease of acquisition. You don't find many people with a Spirit Weapon."
I waved a hand.
"But artifacts are capped in strength, unlike Spirit Weapons and Guardian Armaments. The latter can surpass the limits of the former, if in possession of someone with the potential."
Headtrip shrugged. "That's the point. You don't have to have the potential to use an artifact. You can also pass them down, as we do in the Shirasagi. They aren't as limited in terms of who can use them and how they are used. Artifacts are for the people."
I turned my eyes back toward the fight, ending the debate there. Headtrip was arguing from the perspective of the average man. I wasn't interested in average.
Dream Flower spun Tarika Blue and let the spear glide like an extension of her soul. Thrusts came so fast, they blurred. Hypersonic stabs shattered another dollgirl's head, then skewered a second through the torso. Both cracked, staggered, and crumbled. She twirled the spear, her dress fluttering like petals in a breeze.
"What do you know?" Dream said, spinning the spear. "It works. Flawlessly."
Alex turned to me, eyes wide.
"Yo, Xi, how do I summon my Spirit Weapon? I should have one, right? I mean, I got a Bible."
I frowned. "...Did you read the first page?"
"You have to read it?"
I groaned, dragging a hand down my face.
"Niggas don't like to read..."
"Hey, it's been a day, bro."
Just then, his Bible shimmered into existence in his hand, pulsing with golden and azure light. I felt a subtle resonance—something old... and sacred. But while Alex struggled to get acquainted with his newfound grimoire, Dream Flower kept the pressure up—until it happened.
"Apply presszzure to pleeasze—Enhanced Fire Mana Arts: Pyroelectricity."
The dollgirl in the back—tinted dark green with a core of tourmaline—released her spell.
A bright surge of electrified fire slammed into Dream Flower's back, her body seizing up as she cried out and dropped to one knee.
"AAGGGHHHH!"
Nicole covered her mouth. "Dream Flower, she's been hit hard!!"
Ameera was breathless. "Lord... Alex?"
A second dollgirl lunged in. Her arm shifted mid-motion into a sharp blade. She swung down toward Dream's exposed head with one clear intention—death.
My mouth opened. "That's not good... Oh?"
With a booming CRACK, a red-and-gold staff shot through the air, slamming into the dollgirl's face and exploding it into diamond dust.
"Made it!" Alex yelled, staff in hand, his mana now floating above his head like a halo of red smoke.
Dream blinked. "Al...ex?"
"You were cutting it close, Alexander. But nice save." I yelled.
"Hell yeah!! You rock, Lord Alex!" Ameera cheered.
"Did he just learn the skill mid-duel?" Nicole uttered.
Alex spun the quarterstaff with smooth, fluid movements, channeling mana through the pole as it hummed with mysterious resonance. The energy running through the weapon wasn't the average mana—it was something deeper, richer, like gravity folded into its threads.
That's when [Heaven's Kaleidoscope] kicked in.
An appraisal overlay locked into view as data flowed into my mind. The weapon was forged from a mixture of spiritual energy and his mana, bound by a unique thread that was anchored by a familiar force I just couldn't put my finger on just yet.
It was rare. It was powerful. And it was dangerously dope for a stick.
Alex smirked, all cocky confidence and wild energy.
"Leave the rest up to me, Dream Flower. I wanna give the Dawn Goddess a decent test run."
Dream groaned, smiling through her pain. "Fine with me... I'm at half of my MP anyway."
"Smooth. Now," Alex pointed the staff forward, "let's handle you wannabe Baddies."
The crystal arena, now littered with broken furniture, scattered gem fragments, and sizzling patches of mana-burnt flooring, somehow kept its elegance despite the chaos. Its glassy, gem-embedded nature still shimmered with a sultry sheen. The cracked pillars looked like frozen statues mid-ecstasy. Bits of crushed crystal glowed faintly, like the aftermath of a forbidden ritual gone sideways. The place held onto its kink like it had a safe word—and we still hadn't said it yet. This floor wasn't a sex dungeon in looks alone. It was one, dressed in prestige.
But we weren't done. Eight Crystal Dolls remained.
The Scarlet Wolf of Velonica—Alex—gripped his quarterstaff with a tight slide of his palm, adjusting for a firmer hold. Then he burst forward like a bullet shot from a .50 caliber rifle, closing the distance in less than a heartbeat. The moment he entered their range, the Bo staff known as Dawn Goddess became an extension of his fury. With a swing that cracked like a thunderclap, he shattered the torsos of two dollgirls in one clean horizontal strike.
Their bodies crumbled mid-reaction, but Alex wasn't finished.
He spun Dawn Goddess into a vertical cyclone above his head before slamming it down in an overhead arc onto the next dollgirl. She raised her arms feebly.
"Use... Meezzz... ..uzzzt."
"I'd rather kill you."
Alex crashed the staff through her skull, splitting the gemstone cranium with a satisfying shnk. The doll's body jerked once, then collapsed into a pile of twitching shards.
Dream Flower stood off to the side, watching with a glint in her eye. She twirled her spear lazily once, then took a deeper breath. I saw it then—the twitch of her fingers, the subtle bend of her knees as she dropped her center of gravity. Something was coming.
"Bring me the rage of a storm—Superior Water, Wind Mixed Arts: Supercharged Gale Bomb."
She whispered it low, intimate like a secret between her and the elements. In her left hand formed a glowing cyclone of Wind Mana, while Water Mana built in her right with a thick, slippery pulse of bluish-white glow. The two affinities clashed between her palms, creating a volatile swirl that hummed with pressure.
"Alex!" she shouted. "Lace your Spirit Weapon with Fire Mana and knock this energy ball into the golems!"
Alex blinked. "Lace with Fire? How the hell—"
But the orb was already flying at him. His instincts kicked in.
He remembered how he channeled Fire Mana through his legs for his kicks—so he applied the same concept to the quarterstaff. The Dawn Goddess flared with a sudden ignition of azure-blue fire, the mana leaping across its length like it was born to burn. The fire didn't look like his usual. It was hotter. Wilder. Sentient almost.
With perfect timing, he batted the incoming orb of volatile energy like a home run swing at the World Championships.
The Gale Bomb hit the golems dead center—and exploded.
A burst of light and sound roared across the battlefield. Fire kissed the air with an oppressive heat. Wind slashed through the dolls like knives made of speed. Water churned across their bodies, penetrating fractures and bursting them apart from the inside. The fusion was violent, beautiful, and final.
When the light faded, all that remained of the Crystal Dollgirls were burning heaps of shattered gemstones, sizzling from the mixed elements that danced across them in steam and spark.
Nicole gasped. "They did it! Awesome team combo."
Ameera clapped her hands. "Yay! I knew they could."
The spatial veil that had been separating the arena from the rest of us dissipated like mist under sunlight, allowing us to approach. The fractured bodies of the dollgirls were scattered across the crystalline floor like fallen ornaments from a destroyed Christmas tree.
We walked over casually, our footsteps echoing slightly on the still-glassy terrain.
Dream Flower leaned against her spear, her body still panting lightly from the effort. "Hey Alex, are you an Orisha or something? You're pretty strong in your own right."
Alex scratched the back of his head, Bo now resting on his shoulder. "Orisha? Nah. Not that I know of."
"Well, you're strong enough to claim the title. Also, nice-looking Spirit Weapon there."
"Thanks. She's called the Dawn Goddess."
Ameera lit up. "Lord Alex, that was pretty awesome!"
Nicole stepped in, brushing her dark violet hair back. "I haven't seen Yoruba's Tears in years, Dream Flower. How did you speed up the cast time like that?"
Dream twirled her spear like a wand and sighed. "Nicole, girl, it didn't get faster until I mastered using [Ocean Princess: Yemoja]. And without the subskill [Erica's Song], it'd still be way too taxing to use in a real battle."
My interest piqued. "[Erica's Song]? What does it do for you?"
Dream smiled, proud. "Reduces the mana cost for arts under the water or wind affinities by 75%, while buffing their output by 25%."
"That's pretty beastly." I paused, tapping my chin. "Oh, that reminds me, should I call you Lady Dream or Mistress Dream or something? Since Orishas are like...honor titles, right?"
Dream gave me a look that could melt the polar caps. "How about you just call me Dream, and I call you Xiro, like friends. No honorifics needed."
"Friends, huh?" I chuckled. "That's frosty. In fact... y'all are now officially affiliated with the Wolfpak."
Alex threw up a fist. "Hell yeah. Welcome, ladies."
Headtrip clicked his tongue. "You dudes did pretty good. I was honestly pretty sure both of you would end up encased in crystals like ice cubes."
I raised an eyebrow. "As long as I was here, they would've been rescued."
Headtrip squinted at me. "Oh? Are you really that strong? I mean, you're so skinny, and I can barely feel your mana signature. You honestly feel like the weakest in your group."
Alex burst out laughing. "Hahaha, Xiro the weakest? Man, this nigga can't read a room!"
Nicole's voice sharpened like the edge of a dagger. "Lord Xiro's power is beyond anyone within this tree. You don't know who you're speaking to. This is the Devil King of Velonica."
Headtrip's jaw dropped a bit. "The Devil King of Velonica? You, dude? Really? I mean… he didn't sound that impressive. And now that I've met you, I'm still not convinced. You a Godwalker too?"
I let a faint smirk form at the edge of my mouth. "Something like that."
Headtrip's smile twitched. That title wasn't supposed to belong to someone standing a few feet from him, dressed like a gothic stripper on vacation.
Headtrip pressed. "Do you even have an Ultra Skill? The Shirasagi are known for having four people in our clan with Ultra Skills."
That made me pause.
I glanced at Alex. He glanced at me.
Then we both busted out laughing.
It wasn't mockery.
It wasn't pride this time.
It was just disbelief that this nigga thought that was a flex.
Because the Mikazuki Clan? We had eight Ultra Skill users. And I alone had four more to add.
If he was trying to intimidate or inspire awe, all he did was prove he wasn't ready for our level.
Not even close.
While the last of the glass dust was settling from Alex and Dream's tag-team takedown, the air around us began to hum—not with the normal magitons, but with something more intimate. A presence. I felt it slide over me like silk dragging across bare skin, a surveillance sensation that wrapped around my neck like a collar and pulled tight. Eyes. Not just one set either. This whole damn room suddenly felt like it was watching us.
Then I heard it.
"Aww, foofy. I was hoping to see the Devil fight."
The voice coiled through the air like it belonged to the girl next door—if that girl spent her free time tying up men and making them beg. Sweet and smooth, with that rare, untouched innocence that didn't belong anywhere near the Sycamore Tree. And yet… here she was.
She entered the room like a perfume commercial brought to life. A redheaded Majin, unconventionally fine, with that robe hanging open like it was allergic to modesty. Skin like polished porcelain without a single blemish. Glossy pink lips you'd kill to kiss, under bright silver eyes that sparkled like twin moons. And her body? Bruh… her body was insane. Her waist curved like it was sculpted for slow hands. Hips were dangerous enough to start wars. Breasts pierced with mana gems that shimmered when she moved, which she did in high heels and a high-cut thong that showed off thighs smoother than sin.
Thin white horns curled from her forehead. A spade-tipped tail lazily swayed behind her. She and I? We were kin. Different branches on the same infernal family tree.
I tilted my head, licking my lips without shame.
"Who the hell is this sexy-ass white girl?"
She heard me. Hell, she loved that I said that out loud.
"Sexy? White? Hehehe. I'm Zawa Moon, the Gem Witch—Theme Mistress of Submission within the Sycamore Tree."
Then she dropped her robe to the floor like it had offended her. The shimmer of her Magic Gems, acting like body jewelry embedded into her skin, made her glow like a treasure chest cracked open in the dark. She didn't walk—she glided. She didn't seduce—she summoned lust. Even Dream Flower and Nicole whistled, which said a lot. Zawa wasn't just built differently. She was built to break you. The lil' bitch was bad.
Headtrip was grinning like a damn idiot. Like he just pulled out his prized collectible to show off to the whole cafeteria.
"Hey, babe. Guess who I met on my way up here? Says he's the Devil of Velonica. Can you believe it?"
But Zawa didn't even look at him. Didn't blink. Didn't twitch. Her silver eyes stayed locked on mine as she licked her lips, slow and sensual, then bit her bottom lip like I was dessert.
"Hey, Demon Lord, I love the color of your horns and skin. I didn't know Oni came in chocolate flavor."
I leaned into that moment with a grin so cocky it should've been illegal.
"You heard that, Headtrip? Bitches love 'em tall, dark, and niggerish."
And that was it.
That was the moment I broke him.
The way his jaw tightened. How his pupils twitched. His whole world cracked in half right there. Zawa, the girl he clearly thought was his to parade, just chose me—openly, brazenly, and with full lust behind her words.
He stood there in silence for a moment too long, fists trembling by his sides.
"Zawa, babe, what's going on? Don't you see me here?"
She turned her head halfway, her voice flipping from dreamy to dismissive.
"Headie, I know you fucked Kiranna tonight."
His mouth dropped open like a trap had sprung under his soul.
"Whaaa? What are you t-talking about?"
"You took that lil' musty cock and fucked that annoying Blood Imp bitch."
Alex blinked. "Blood Imp?"
Headtrip looked like he got caught cheating on a math test and couldn't remember the subject.
"B-but didn't you tell me to go fuck an Imp? I don't get it?"
Zawa rolled her eyes so hard the room spun with them.
"Ughh, you're such an idiot. All you had to do was go wash your cock off. Not fuck the one bitch I can't stand."
I leaned in just enough to deliver the kill shot.
"So is musty dick also something the Shirasagi Clan excel in as well?"
The women cracked. Giggles, chuckles, and muffled laughs exploded like it was comedy hour, while Headtrip stood frozen—his pride leaking out his ears.
He darted his eyes from face to face, searching for dignity. But it was gone. Then he looked at me—and I smiled. Not a friendly smile. A "you'll never be me, nigga" smile.
I didn't even know when we became enemies, but at this point, the road was already paved. And honestly? Fuck that nigga. I wasn't interested in taking a detour from the smoke.
Zawa stepped forward now, eyes glowing with hunger and mischief.
"Anyways, Demon Lord, I want to battle you in a solo Duel of Dominance. The loser becomes the sex slave to the winner."
Was this real law in the Tree? Or was she just playing with tradition like a succubus with a dick? The Death's Mask had me poised to find out.
I tilted my head with an arched brow. "So quick to throw away freedom. You would've made a decent American."
Dream Flower whispered to Nicole, "That girl's playing with fire."
Alex leaned in, whispering, "Bro... she asked to be a slave? That's crazy."
Headtrip lost it. "Zawa, what are you proposing?! There is no way that the Grandmaster of the Shirasagi can have his girlfriend become a sex slave to another man—let alone another Oni!"
Zawa's grin was so lewd it might've been a sin carved into flesh. "Well, if he wins, then I guess consider us broken up. Unless... you plan to fight him for control of me?"
Her voice dripped invitation. She was daring him to swing.
"What the hell, babe?! Hey, dude, I hope you're not thinking of winning this, are you? You've gotta lose, dude!"
I didn't respond.
Didn't blink.
Didn't acknowledge him at all.
I adjusted my blazer, gave a smooth push to my shades, and walked forward.
The idea of being a sex slave wasn't even an option. That was for pets and tools. I wasn't built for submission. I was a king. If anyone was gonna be calling out in pleasure, it'd be her. And if Zawa wanted to see domination, she'd get it.
Not that Headtrip could stop me.
And if that meant I had to snatch his girl, his pride, and whatever else was attached to his ego?
So be it.
He'd have to live with the consequences.
Because I wasn't gonna lose.
And I sure as hell wasn't going to submit.
Not now.
Not ever.
As I stood across from the mostly nude Gem Witch, the energy in the Kinky Diamond Chamber took a turn. The flirtatious warmth of the sex dungeon dimmed beneath a thick, creeping fog of dread—as if the room had inhaled lust and was now exhaling despair. It rolled low, invisible yet heavy, slithering between my boots and brushing my ankles like a cold breath.
You wouldn't notice it at first—not with Zawa's flawless tits bouncing in front of you like a hypnotist's pendulum. But that's what made her dangerous. She was the misdirection. A walking decoy. While everyone stared, magick crept behind her in silence.
The others shifted toward the edges of the arena, settling into observer positions like an audience before a cursed opera. The mood between us thickened, heads tilted, and eyes narrowed. Headtrip looked like he was trying hard to keep that smug look from melting, but you could see the cracks behind the mask. Meanwhile, the Wolfpak? Chill. Relaxed. Smiling like they had paid front-row seats for what came next.
Zawa's voice purred across the distance like she was blowing a kiss.
"Just so you know, Mr. Sexy Devil, I won't be fighting you directly."
I blinked. "Huh? Backing out now, Sugar Tits?"
"Oh no. I plan to taste your mana in its richest form before this night is over."
She dipped a hand into the small, barely-there front of her thongs and pulled out a pulsing, iridescent pill. The moment it left her skin, I felt it—Divinity Mana. Clear as day. Strong, clean, and infused with more than just power. That pill was swirling with life force signatures, too many to name, like a cocktail of stolen souls wrapped in candy coating.
Headtrip's voice cracked with tension. "A Cultivation Pill? What is she planning to do with that?"
My thoughts ticked over. "What did he say just now? So that was the infamous pill I saw in Nicole's and Jojo's memories…"
[Moon Sage: Tsukuyomi], ever helpful, whispered from within. "Analyzing Cultivation Pill."
Zawa swallowed it like it was nothing. Pop. Down the hatch.
The reaction was instant.
Her body shimmered like crystal set on fire. Her mana signature erupted like an orgasm of light and pressure, compressing the air around her until it vibrated. Gem Mana bloomed around her in jagged spirals of color—prismatic arcs that shimmered with chaotic brilliance. The energy turned her from dangerous to lethal. Gem Mana always looked alive when charged with Divinity, and this wasn't any different. She looked like a prism possessed.
"You look too young to need assistance with performance. Be sure to seek medical attention if you can't lose the erection after four hours of taking those pills."
Zawa smirked, licking her lips. "Hehehe. Trust me, I'm wet enough to deal with you for many hours. But I'm too weak in the knees for you dominant types. So… your opponent will be someone more punchy."
With a casual motion, she circled her hands until her fingertips met. Mana swirled between them like a cyclone, and from a forming portal beneath her feet, she summoned a mirror. Not just any beauty mirror, either.
This thing dripped darkness.
A demonic, twisted frame of blacksteel wrapped around the oval glass like thorns around a neck. It hovered above the ground, humming with a hungry resonance as Zawa smiled and presented it like a sacred relic.
Headtrip leaned forward. "She's using her artifact. Good, that means she's taking this seriously."
Nicole squinted. "That mirror feels haunting."
Dream tensed. "I know what you mean. Almost like it's alive."
"You're almost right," Headtrip answered. "That's the Artifact reflecting what's standing before it."
Ameera's voice dropped. "So that dreadful feeling it's producing…"
Alex crossed his arms. "Is coming from Xiro's reflection."
Zawa raised her voice in a mock chant. "Magic Black Mirror in my hand, show me who's the strongest in these lands?"
The mirror lit up in waves of ultraviolet and indigo. Then—silence.
A ripple washed across the surface like a still lake struck by a single drop.
From it, a figure stepped forward.
The floor beneath its feet hissed and cracked from its arrival.
The shade around it peeled away like paint washing down a drain, revealing someone I didn't expect.
Me. Sort of.
Six feet tall, slim athletic build, two indigo horns curled from the brow. Red pin-like tattoos ran from the corners of his eyes down his cheeks. He wore a white version of my Noir Empress armor—same model as mine. But his hair? Straight, silky, light brown. His eyes? Bright green with a golden glow. And his skin? Pale ivory, a warm snow against my cinnamon. Like I'd found my long-lost white twin brother raised in a suburb with matching family pajamas.
Dream leaned in. "Wait, is that another Xiro?"
Nicole scoffed. "He looks too pale. No way that's Lord Xiro."
Alex blinked. "What the hell is going on?"
I narrowed my eyes. "Who the fuck is this wigga?"
The figure smirked.
"Well, my nigga, I'm you. Sort of. My name is Zero Tàiyáng. I'm your Chiral Reflection."
I tilted my head. "How the hell y'all gentrified me already? And Tàiyáng? Ain't that Chinese? Are you my Chinese bootleg?"
Nicole, confused, asked, "Why is Lord Xi talking about knees?"
Ameera followed up. "What are a Chai-knees?"
Alex shrugged. "The hell if I know. Xiro be using words I've never heard of all the time. You get used to it being around him."
Zero rolled his eyes. "Idiot. You do know they won't understand those references, right?"
I grinned. "Yeah, but you do. That's all that matters to the joke."
Zero's expression hardened. "Your jester-like nature will be your downfall. Take everything for a joke, and soon people will start to take you for one."
I nodded slowly. "That's funny, seeing how I'm already laughing at you. I'm guessing they take you as a comedy routine."
"The only dramatic irony about to take place," he said, stepping forward, "will be you losing to your better half."
Alex murmured to the girls, "This might be really bad. If he's truly the same as Xiro but unhenged... Then he could destroy Gaia if he wanted."
Nicole sighed, "Ah, shit."
From the side, Zawa was watching, as if she were streaming fanfiction live in 4K. Her hand slid to her chest, fingers trailing over one nipple as her hips swayed slightly in pleasure.
"I could imagine the fun I'd have with you two. Oh, and if you didn't notice, my Black Mirror creates a perfect inverted temporal copy of a person's spirit. Your soul flipped inside out. Meaning he has all of your abilities as well."
I scoffed. "Don't you know remakes are never as good as the original?"
Zero smirked. "I'm not a remake. I'm the remix."
Then he let loose.
An eruption of mana crashed outward from him like a meteor impact. The Sycamore Tree shook. Tremors ran across the floor, crawling up walls and fixtures. Divine energy saturated the air, so thick it felt like breathing through syrup.
[Dominus Superbiae] kept me cool, but even I had to admit—this dude wasn't some cheap illusion. His power was real.
He was me.
Same instincts.
Same reflexes.
Same dangerous cocktail of power and sarcasm. But with the added edge of being removed from my moral compass.
For the first time since Taurus cracked my jaw, I felt my right hand twitch with anticipation.
I didn't know how I was going to win.
But I wasn't going to lose.
It was time to fight my shadow.
Time to test everything I'd gained in twenty years of this wild second life.
I've beaten death, monsters, and angels. Now I fight the only thing left that ever scared me—me without a fuck to give.
[End of Chapter]
[1] April on Earth.