I tried to sit up, but Sophia suddenly pressed me back down. My wings were pinned, and her breasts pressed against my chest.Her breath brushed against my ear, and I could only close my eyes to avoid her gaze.
This is dangerous… but why do I even need to be on guard?
Sophia's slender, soft hands slid from my chest to my abdomen, then down to my groin.Then she frowned.
"Are you impotent?"
A fatal line to any man—it sounded as though it were gnawing at my pride.
"Have you ever seen a corpse with blood circulation?"
I sneered. My face was pale, almost devoid of color, untouched by temptation.
"It's useless anyway. I'm not interested in a demon like you. It's disgusting."
I struggled, trying to escape this trap, when a sound like honey being poured into my ears reached me.
"How unexpected. You have no lust at all? Even corpses possess some form of desire."
Sophia gently leaned in and kissed me, her tongue slipping into my mouth before quickly withdrawing.I spat out the flesh I had bitten off and stared at the woman covering her mouth.
"You… don't even have a sense of taste?"
"What do you think!?"
I sneered. Compared to what I had been through, this meant nothing.
"I told you. I feel nothing for a demon like you."
Sophia released my hands and sat up, still straddling me.
"Why do you call me a demon? I am a guardian of Heaven."
"You mean a guard dog at the gate?"
Sophia smiled. She stood up, stepped off the bed, and walked across the damp, red floor, like a sea of wine.
"Why do you assume I'm a demon and not an angel? I almost gave you happiness."
She lightly covered her naked, alluring body with a thin blanket and cast me a flirtatious look.
"And how much do you really know about me to speak so boldly?"
I looked at her, organizing my thoughts, then spoke.
"If we revisit the story Oxeiburt heard from Acrune—the part about art.Art is madness rationalized through form.As someone who studied at Melody, Oxeiburt understood well what it meant to paint despair onto reality.By continuously drawing his own deranged illusions, art becomes a mirror of delusion—it creates truth, but it is never truly real.
And you, Sophia—you are one such deranged illusion, a mirror reflecting a demon. Oxeiburt must have left you here through the 'nails,' using madness itself to force a reverse transformation into a demon. However, because a demon had already invaded your soul, Oxeiburt intervened personally through a 'Curse.'
When you reached Heaven, both of you were rejected by it. Still, Oxeiburt must have imprisoned you at the gate to protect your soul, while using demonization itself to seize a portion of Costume mana and use it to paint his art.
You eventually became a Heavenly Demon, yet remained in Heaven. The decayed portion of your soul was taken in by Oxeiburt himself and reshaped with Costume mana into another part, protecting your soul from collapse.
The 'art' here is nothing more than a shell to force your existence—a false identity, false emotions, a—"
"Shut up!!"
Sophia lunged forward and pinned me down again.
"Human—how much do you know?"
"…Not everything. Given the missing information, about fifty to sixty percent."
Sophia looked at me again as though at a romantic lover. She embraced me, and this time I did not struggle. I felt nothing anyway.
"You know so much… You must have been through a great deal."
She spoke softly, whispering in a way that was seductive, stirring an indescribable sensation.
Her hand toyed with my pants, then accidentally brushed against my pocket. At that moment, something sparked in my mind.
"Ha… ha."
My face froze. Seeing this, Sophia gently raised a finger to my lips.
"Why not let me make you more comfortable? Just a little?"
My head spun endlessly, as though I were sinking into a trance.Her every word echoed, sweet as honey poured into my ears.
My pupils dilated until all I could see was the pale pink of her eyes.Her hand slowly traced from my lips down to my pants, carefully undoing them.
Then she touched something inside my pocket.
It gleamed, shining with a golden luster. She took it out and saw that it was an old, gold-plated cosmetic mirror. A soft white light shimmered across its surface.
I wrapped my arms around her. My lower body was nearly ready.I whispered into her ear.
"Will you really satisfy me?"
Before she could answer, I bit down hard on her neck.
"ARH—"
I pinned her beneath me. The space around us began to reconstruct itself. No longer a bed and a sea of wine, but an operating table in a sealed room.
"Will you make me happy?"
I smiled gently, though at some point an axe stained with blood had appeared in my hand.
I tightened my grip around her neck, ignoring her struggles. On my face, only exhilaration remained.
Emma's Gift: Convergence–Divergence.