Chapter 1: Rebirth in Crimson Flames
The void enveloped him, a relentless chill that mirrored the abrupt end to his ordinary existence. Tires had screeched, lights had blinded, and impact had shattered everything in an instant. No epic finale, just erasure. Yet, as nothingness threatened to consume him fully, a resonant voice pierced the dark, ancient and unyielding, like the grind of stars aligning.
"Soul of the departed, your path ends. I am the ROB, architect of destinies. One wish alone, bestowed without delay. Select with care, or dissolve into eternity."
Thoughts surged through his mind. Rebirth? Dominion? Vengeance against the cruelty of fate? The entity specified: a single form to claim, nothing beyond. Anime realms danced in his memory—worlds of supernatural clashes and forbidden passions. High School DxD surfaced, devils and divine beings entangled in conflict and lust. Gasper Vladi, the timid dhampir, concealed and brimming with hidden might. Ideal. A shell ripe for reshaping.
"Gasper Vladi," he uttered into the abyss. "That vessel is mine."
The ROB's timbre carried a subtle edge of intrigue. "So be it. Your essence merges as found—vampiric vulnerabilities included. Tamper cautiously."
Brilliance erupted, overwhelming his awareness. But in that suspended beat, he twisted the boon. One wish, yet he'd stretch it. "Hold—Great Sage! Implant the Great Sage skill, the analyzer that forges supreme talents. The kind that crafts forces defying all bounds."
"Excessively potent," the voice intoned. "It will emerge per your intent. Ultimate-tier capacities yours to summon. Arise."
Existence crashed over him. He occupied a slight, delicate frame, curled in a shadowed ritual space etched with arcane marks. Manacles dug into his arms, the atmosphere thick with ritual smoke and dread—his dread. Gasper's physique, yet altered. The lacy gown adhered to him like an insult, hem riding high, fabric translucent. Revulsion churned within. Not this farce. Great Sage ignited, a serene overlay materializing in his psyche.
[Great Sage: Skill integrated. Inquiry: Adjust garments to masculine style. Implementing...]
Threads realigned, the gown transforming into a sleek ebony jacket atop a spotless button-up, trousers supplanting the hem—understated, commanding, suiting a youthful sovereign over a plaything. He tested his grip, sensing the undead vigor pulse underneath. No more cowering. No more frailty.
Yells resounded from beyond. The entrance flew wide, and they poured through—Rias Gremory and her entourage, saviors in this warped narrative. Issei Hyoudou spearheaded, his sacred gear pulsing, gaze alight with foolish resolve. Trailing were Akeno Himejima, sparks dancing along her form; Asia Argento, gripping her restorative relic; Koneko Toujou, fists balled; and Yuuto Kiba, blade shimmering with noble poise. Rias advanced, scarlet locks flowing, authority in her tone.
"Gasper! We've come to liberate you!" Rias declared, her words firm yet urgent.
He—Gasper reborn—regarded them from his restraints. These interlopers, these idiots presuming control over him. Hatred boiled, fierce and unfiltered. The universe had snuffed him out before; these marionettes wouldn't bind him anew. Great Sage murmured options, a vault of supreme arts ready.
"Liberate me?" he mocked, timbre richer than Gasper's quiver, infused with fresh spite. The manacles shattered with effortless strain, Forbidden Balor View surging—but elevated. His gaze ignited scarlet, halting the invaders in a sphere of suspension.
Issei hung frozen, boot half-lifted, expression puzzled. Worthless, he seethed. This lecherous gear-head fancies himself a redeemer? Great Sage purred: [Inquiry: Ultimate thermal lance. Forming...] A spear of searing plasma gathered in his grasp, white-hot and roaring with incineration.
He drove it onward. The bolt lanced through Issei's torso, bursting from his spine in a gout of vaporized tissue and seared gore. The hold released as Issei toppled, choking, his gear sputtering to nothing. "How... the hell..." he rasped, vision dimming before vitality escaped.
Pandemonium ignited. Rias's stare bulged in revulsion. "Gasper?! What have you—"
"Quiet," he growled, vanishing and reappearing—Great Sage's immediate warp. He clamped Rias's neck, hurling her into the barrier. Her allies surged, but velocity was his domain. Kiba's edge arced; he seized the hilt ungloved, bending it until it warped and melted from the heat he channeled through his palm. "Your turn, knight."
Kiba's features contorted in alarm. Gasper—no, he—clutched Kiba's shoulder, Great Sage summoning infernal blaze. Skin blistered instantly, flesh bubbling as flames licked inward, charring muscle and sinew without mercy. Kiba howled, thrashing, but he held firm, intensifying the burn until organs smoldered from within. The knight convulsed, blade clattering away, slumping amid his own crisped remains. Lifeless in moments.
Akeno hurled bolts of electricity, but he chuckled, Great Sage erecting a shield that devoured the surge, transmuting it to amplify his fire. "Sorceresses like you... toying with storms." He streaked close, gripping her arm, heat radiating from his touch to scald her skin red, blisters rising as she shrieked.
Asia dashed to mend, weeping. "Cease! Please, Gasper—"
He pivoted, gaze pinning her. Pure little cleric. Loathing warped into primal craving. "Mend them if possible, slut." Yet he struck her cheek, toppling her, her attire ripping along the edges.
Koneko barreled in, petite strikes whirling. He intercepted her leap, palms igniting to sear her sides, fabric smoking as pain seared through her. She yowled, but he released her, facing Rias, who fought his hold.
"Why?" Rias choked, ruby eyes fierce with treachery. "We're your kin!"
"Kin?" He barked a laugh, icy and raw. "I loathe you all. Frail, prying vermin." With intent, Great Sage bestowed renewal—his absolute, wounds sealing in heartbeats, but theirs? He'd dictate.
He hauled Rias to the chamber's heart, the women—Rias, Akeno, Asia, Koneko—moaning below, men's husks cooling. Issei and Kiba, incinerated relics. Fine elimination. No queers here. His shaft stiffened at the view, fabric straining. These females, mighty yet shattered under him. Forced? They'd plead before long.
Beginning with Rias. He shredded her outfit, fasteners flying, baring lush tits rising in terror. "No—Gasper, don't!" she begged, but he restrained her, knees prying her legs wide. His fingers dove between her thighs, shredding undergarments, delving into her unready cunt. She wailed, form bucking in distress.
"Cry freely, crimson slut." He unleashed his dick—Gasper's frame, but Great Sage-enhanced, girthy and ridged, pulsing with nocturnal fervor. He plunged deep, no warmup, her channel gripping in resistance. Crimson slicked the invasion, but he hammered onward, pelvis crashing into hers. Each drive eroded her—resolve, perhaps.
As he sheathed in her, he eyed Akeno, nursing her scorched limb. "You. Approach." When she faltered, he seized her locks, dragging her near his rutting into Rias. "Observe your leader's defilement." Akeno's robe split under his grasp, revealing ivory flesh. He pressed heated palms to her thighs, skin reddening as she sobbed, but he thrust her downward, shaft withdrawing from Rias to shove into Akeno's throat.
"Gulp it, lightning whore." She retched, tears blending with drool as he skull-fucked her, seared marks throbbing. Withdraw, return to Rias's slit, swapping strokes. Great Sage mended them minimally—blisters fading halfway, torment persisting—to sustain awareness.
Asia wept close, attempting escape. He warped her return, hiking her hem, rear bared. "Restore your allies, or I claim you." She mewled, relic shimmering weakly, soothing Akeno's burns just as he scorched Koneko's abdomen with a press, the rook's cry resounding.
He claimed Asia then, her untouched grip parting for his savage penetration. She shrieked, frame quaking as he ravaged her bare, fluids and sorrow staining the stone. "Mercy... please..." But pity belonged to the feeble. He branded her hips with his touch, forcing her to self-repair amid the pounding, the loop of suffering stoking his lust.
Koneko remained, tiny form quivering. He hoisted her effortlessly, skewering her on his length while singeing her shoulders. She stifled screams, but he pried her jaws, incisors nicking her lip. "Snug little hole," he snarled, lifting and dropping her, her scalded spots aching with every shift. Mend, sear, thrust—endlessly, their skins glistening with perspiration, seed, and ichor.
Rias observed, bound by his command, as he cycled among them. He erupted in Akeno first, filling her depths while heating her calves. Then Asia, withdrawing to coat her features, palms blazing her collar. Koneko received his release in her rear, fresh burns on her back easing just to amplify sensation.
Drained yet resilient, they sprawled in disarray, forms etched with welts that receded and reignited. He abhorred their sobs, their fragility. Escalate now. Great Sage: [Ultimate thermal void. Assembling...] A blistering realm unfurled in his thoughts—unyielding inferno, perpetual agony.
But prior, Grayfia. The platinum-tressed attendant, Sirzechs' consort, Rias's kin by marriage. She'd investigate shortly. He grinned, collecting the ravaged women. With a flick, he shifted—directly to the Gremory manor, into Grayfia's sanctum.
She poised there, refined in her service garb, eyes flaring at the breach. "Gasper Vladi? Explain this intrusion—"
He cast the group before her—Rias, Akeno, Asia, Koneko—bare, essence oozing from violated orifices, fresh heat rising under his idle contact. Grayfia inhaled sharply, sacred energy surging, but he locked her with Balor View.
"Behold, silver cunt," he hissed, tone laced with venom. He recommenced with Rias, folding her forward facing Grayfia, length invading her backside. Rias sobbed, "Grayfia... aid..." but the servant merely gaped, aghast, as he humped savagely, searing Rias's palms against the floor.
Akeno followed, compelled to mount him backward, confronting Grayfia, her mounds jiggling as he heated her soles. Asia prone, limbs splayed for the viewer, digits probing her folds before his rod pursued, palms scorching her flanks under his bulk. Koneko astride his mouth, slit rubbing reluctantly as he branded her nape, cries muffled.
Grayfia's visage warped in fury and woe, but he jeered, obliging her to endure each desecration. Semen trailed from their frames, gathering on the immaculate tiles. He restored them intermittently, prolonging the ordeal, their laments a chorus.
At last, temporarily quenched, he rose, women coiling at his base. "Merely the prelude." Great Sage forged the prison—a blazing abyss, fetters of flame ensnaring essences. He thrust them within sequentially, shapes dissolving into the blaze he'd birthed. Endless, barring his decree.
Grayfia charged as the freeze lifted, but he warped away, returning to the school. The Occult Research Club loomed—vacant now, but Rias would seek. Let her chase. He'd ravage her senseless, shatter her realm.
Loathing flared vivid. This shell, this authority—his renewed existence dawned in carnage and rapture.