5th Day of the 1st Fire Cycle[1], 2000 g.c.
The air on the thirty-second floor buzzed with static before it tore apart in a violent flash of indigo and red. A portal opened midair with a crack of thunder and spat out two bodies—Roxy and Dream Flower—who tumbled onto the damp cobblestone floor. Sparks of crimson lightning still crawled across the edges of the dissolving portal before it vanished, leaving behind the faint ozone bite of magickal discharge.
Roxy pushed herself up with a sharp exhale, brushing moss off her thigh as her pink eyes scanned the surroundings. The hall they were in stretched long and narrow, its walls slick with condensation and streaks of black rot. The air was thick with the mixed scents of nickel, wet stone, and something worse—decaying flesh. Candles melted unevenly along iron sconces, their light weak against the gloom.
"My king…?" she whispered, her voice echoing faintly. "He's not here."
Dream Flower sat up with a grin, shaking off the disorientation. "Whew! That was kinda exciting. Wait, where's everyone else?"
Roxy's tail twitched as she stood. "Looks like we've been divided."
Dream blinked and pointed down the corridor. "Oh my damn… are those what I think they are?"
The darkness didn't answer. It just shifted. Something unfolded from it—something wrong in how it moved.
The question barely left her lips before the shadows ahead rippled. Shapes unfolded from the dark—thin, angular figures, moving with insect precision. The Watchers. Dozens of them. Their metal-wrapped bodies twitched beneath tattered, gray bandages as the faint hum of magitons filled the air. Their horns glowed a putrid green, eyes flickering to life like lanterns in the dark.
They stood in formation—thirty of them—blocking both sides of the corridor—the silence before the slaughter.
Roxy's tail ignited with faint yellow-orange light, the tip burning like a small star. Her posture shifted, graceful but deadly. "Those Third Sphere rejects you all like to call Watchers," she muttered. "They're all over this area."
Dream summoned her mana, her irises flaring with blue light. "They each have signatures of high A-Class. I'm not sure I can deal with this many with my current magick pool."
Roxy smirked, swinging her wrist until a crescent of energy flickered in her palm. "Then kill what you can. I won't embarrass my master Luda by running from Paradiso's throwaways."
Dream frowned. "Paradiso? These things are from the Heavens?"
"Talk later," Roxy said. "They're about to attack."
The Watchers moved first, shrieking as one. Wings unfolded in a chorus of metallic clatter, and the corridor erupted in motion.
Dream swallowed her fear and gripped her spear. "Alright then. Let's see if I can keep up with a Guardian Summon."
Dream Flower was already summoning her Spirit Weapon. Spiritons swirled into her palm, forming the spear known as Tarika Blue—a shimmering weapon glowing with oceanic light. She lunged forward, driving the spear straight through the eye of the first Watcher, twisting and pulling it out to slash the throat of another. Sparks burst with each hit, splattering blue ichor across her arms. But for every Watcher she dropped, three more closed in. Claws screeched against her spear shaft, forcing her into a spinning defense as she parried from all sides.
Behind her, facing the opposite direction, Roxy didn't flinch. With a steady breath, she raised her hand, calling her Spirit Weapon form from within her soul. The Meridian Goddess materialized in a flash of golden and azure light, twin axe-blades gleaming like fans of night and day. She rested it against her shoulder, eyes half-lidded, waiting until the creatures were in range.
"[Master's Gift]—Art of Braye: Eclipsing Noon."
The air cracked. The great-axe spun from her hands, transforming into a whirling disk of gold and blue. It tore through the corridor, carving through five Watchers in one swing, slicing limbs and torsos before returning like a boomerang to cut another clean in half. Blue blood sprayed like paint across the walls, flickering in the dim light.
Roxy caught the weapon mid-spin, pivoting with an elegant twist as she charged forward. Each step was a rhythm, each swing a verse. The Meridian Goddess sang through metal and flesh, splitting Watchers in two as their bodies fell like broken mannequins. Her pink eyes glowed with fierce joy.
A new screech echoed from the left corridor. Twenty more Watchers stormed in, wings thrashing, eyes blazing. Dream's breathing grew ragged as she fought, her spear glowing brighter with each desperate thrust.
Minutes passed, though it felt like hours. When it ended, silence returned like a curtain falling over a bloody stage. The floor was littered with Watcher bodies and puddles of blue ichor. Feathers drifted through the air like ash. Dream leaned against her spear, chest rising and falling, sweat glistening across her temple.
Roxy stood atop a mound of corpses, her black and red hair slightly tousled, but her posture regal. She yawned, mockingly dainty, before closing her fist and admiring her new physical form.
"This mortal shell is good craftsmanship," she said, smirking. "That Sonata Zero is very resourceful indeed."
She turned her gaze toward Dream. "Hey there, Changeling. Good to see you lived."
Dream straightened and rolled her eyes. "My name's Dream Flower. And I can hold my own weight."
"Good. There's nothing worse than babysitting."
Dream gave a small grin. "You've got some rad moves, though. At least the ones I got to see."
"Then just you wait," Roxy replied. "You haven't seen anything yet."
Before the conversation could continue, both women froze as their minds were suddenly filled with my voice, clear and sharp, through [Telepathy].
"There we go, I said. There's been a change in plans, ladies. The Sycamore Tree has split us up."
Roxy straightened. "Sonata Zero? Is that you?"
Dream laughed. "Whoa, Xi? Where are you? Who's with you?"
"I'm a floor below with Luda on 31. Y'all got Omnia and Nicole a floor above on 33. The only ones who made it to 34 were Alex and them."
Dream groaned. "Nicole and Lady Twilight together? Ahhh shit. Poor Nicole."
Roxy frowned. "For you to only be one floor below us, the spiritual distance from my king feels as great as a star system away."
"That's just the Tree's control over spacetime," I replied. "Don't worry about it. Find the nearest stairs or elevator and get to Floor 34."
"Gotcha, Xi. Meet you up there," Dream said.
Roxy crossed her arms. "You sure like to order others around."
"Call it a perk of being the leader. If you need someone else to boss you, contact your master."
Roxy's tail twitched. "Hmph. Just make sure you keep my master safe."
"That's your job, not mine. So you better move those asses fast."
Dream chuckled, cutting in before another argument could start. "You two done with the in-law fighting? If so, let's get moving."
Roxy blinked, clearly taken aback by the remark, then smiled in amusement. "Keep that attitude on the battlefield, and I might actually learn your name, Changeling. Now—this way. The air isn't circulating down that end, which means there's no exit."
Dream rolled her eyes but followed, gripping Tarika Blue tighter as she jogged after Roxy. Their boots splashed through shallow puddles of Watcher blood, the faint glow of their weapons casting streaks of color on the walls as they disappeared down the corridor in search of a way up.
The warpath for the two had begun.
When Omnia and Nicole were thrown from one of my portals, they hit the ground with a harsh crack. The air hissed as the portal sealed behind them, a faint echo of indigo static rippling through the space before silence reclaimed the chamber. A thin mist hung in the air. The metallic tang of magick clung to it, but underneath was something far worse—rotting fur, dried blood, and decay. The walls of the prison glistened faintly with condensation, and what little light existed came from dying mana crystals embedded in the ceiling, casting pale glows over the rows of cages.
Each cell was filled with bodies—Wolvens mostly—twisted, shrunken things with fur matted to skin like old cloth. Their eyes were sunken, their forms brittle and gray. The air was heavy with death and mana depletion.
Omnia's expression didn't flicker. She adjusted her glasses and drew her two jaguar-like tails close to her, unwilling to let them brush the filth on the ground. Her voice, calm and distant, carried over the silence. "So that was a Soul Core I felt from this tree. And it separated us." Her gaze lingered on the empty air where the portal had been. "Should I just recall myself to him?"
Nicole rose slowly, brushing dust from her cropped vest. The two halves of the Death's Mask shimmered faintly beneath the fabric, pulsing with a soft white glow on her breasts. She pulled her ponytail tighter, forcing herself to focus. But then her eyes caught the faces—lifeless, familiar faces.
Her heart stopped. "Are... are these the men taken from the village of Vivian?"
The words barely escaped before her knees wavered. The fractured memory clawed at her mind—the villagers walking into the forest, spellbound smiles on their faces as the Harlequin Witch's charm led them away. The way their voices had faded into silence.
Something twisted in her gut. The forgotten guilt came first, sharp and burning, then nausea. She doubled over and vomited, the sound echoing against the metal bars.
Omnia's head tilted slightly. "Are you truly so weak-stomached to the sight of death?" she asked coolly. "Or were these people friends of yours?"
Nicole wiped her mouth, her voice trembling. "I knew them. Ate with them. Trained a few. Yet when I look at this…" Her throat tightened. "It feels more like it's my fault than anything."
Omnia's expression softened by a fraction as she observed her. "So, Master's manipulation of her memories is causing side effects."
Nicole swallowed hard, steadying herself. "Yet, I know the one who brought them here was the Harlequin Witch—Azumi Midori."
Omnia's ears twitched. "Azumi? Could it be..."
Before she could finish the thought, a pulse brushed through her mind. My voice followed.
"Did you miss me?"
Her lips parted, her tone dipping low, almost reverent. "More than you would believe."
"Well," I said, "I do believe in magick."
Nicole straightened instantly, her grief wiped away in an instant. "Lord Xiro! Where is Your Majesty and everyone else?"
Omnia adjusted her glasses again, watching her reaction with quiet interest. "Hearing his voice seemed to snap her right out of that mood. Fascinating..."
"There's been an audible in the play," I continued. "The Tree split us into groups and layered us on different floors. So move them tits to Floor 34—it's the one above y'all."
Nicole let out a shaky breath of relief. "We're that close? That's great then."
Omnia smirked faintly. "You are aware I can just come to you anytime with [Master'sRecall], right?"
"Stop being a brat, Omnia. I'm two floors below; that would be foolish."
"I'm only here for you," she replied with a pout, her tone silk over steel. "Everything else to me is foolish. But if you say so, Master."
"Good girl. And keep Nicole alive for me until I get there."
Omnia's cyan eyes shifted toward the Dhampir, her leer slicing through the haze. "If that is your command."
Nicole bowed slightly. "Thank you, Your Highness."
See y'all soon, I said, and the link faded.
The echo of my words lingered in their minds like warmth after lightning. For a moment, Nicole almost forgot the dead around her.
The silence that followed carried a faint hum—the whisper of residual mana between the two women. The air thickened as Omnia turned her full attention to Nicole. Small motes of crimson and cerulean energy began to rise from her body, forming a soft halo that shimmered around her form like drifting snow. The pressure of her presence made the chamber feel smaller, the air harder to breathe.
"So, Nicole Kanra," Omnia said, her voice almost melodic. "What are your feelings toward my master?"
Nicole froze. Her throat went dry, her palms slick. She took half a step back, avoiding those piercing eyes. "Huh? What do you mean? What are you talking about?"
Omnia's smile was faint, but sharp. "Let's skip the lies and stalling. I know you have feelings for him. And I don't blame you. He's… difficult not to desire."
Nicole hesitated, searching for words that didn't sound like weakness. Finally, she sighed. "Demon Lord Xiro is someone I admire. I'm thankful for the second chance he gave me—and for not taking my life for something I can't even remember. I just know I… messed up somehow."
"So she is aware her memories have been removed," Omnia thought.
Nicole lifted her eyes at last, her ruby gaze steady despite the tremor in her voice. "It's obvious you and Lord Xiro share something deep. I don't want to overstep if my presence disrespects that."
Omnia said nothing at first. Her silence stretched long enough that Nicole began to tremble under it. Then, finally, Omnia spoke.
"You are attractive. And you seem to hold a deep faith in him," she said softly. "With that, I'll allow you to chase his attention. Explore his body, even…"
Nicole's eyes widened, confusion washing over her face.
"But know this," Omnia continued, her voice tightening, "no matter what you do, you will never replace me in his heart. I will forever be his number one."
The air seemed to thicken with her words. Nicole could feel the power woven into them, like a spiritual command. A warning, but not hatred. Palpable as it pressed against her chest, heavy but oddly comforting. Somewhere in that weight, there was also permission—and for Nicole, that alone was enough to spark a flicker of joy.
Still, she couldn't silence her own insecurity. "I'm grateful for your validation," she murmured. "But… with so many better women around, why would Lord Xiro look in my direction?"
Before Omnia could answer, a sharp thud echoed through the corridor beyond the chamber. Then another. A woman's voice followed—loud, sultry, and irritated.
"Stupid, stupid tree. I swear this place gets on my damn nerves. This isn't the right fucking floor, and it knows it!"
The heavy metal door slammed open. A woman stumbled in, dressed in lewd attire and carrying the smell of ozone and jasmine. Her blue-green eyes darted across the room before locking onto Nicole.
"What the hell? Nicole, is that you? Why the hell are you here?"
Nicole's expression twisted into disbelief. "Azumi! Great, I must have the worst kind of luck."
Azumi's attention shifted. Her pupils narrowed when she saw Omnia. "You feel… familiar. I can't seem to put my tongue on it. Who are you?"
Omnia folded her arms beneath her breasts. "I'm the Twilight Goddess. Love and Blade of Demon Lord Xiro Mikazuki."
Azumi froze. "Twilight… Goddess…"
Her pupils dilated as the world around her warped into sterile white. A forgotten memory of a laboratory in Eden. The smell of antiseptic, the hum of crystal instruments. A pale room filled with glass instruments and surgical lights created from galaxies. Omnia—standing over a table, extracting a swirling dark-green essence from her own body, sealing it into a floating orb.
"I didn't expect this much chaos in me," the memory version of Omnia said. "That would have been problematic for the future."
As Azumi's ethereal self looked into that orb, her reflection stared back. Her own soul. Her true creation.
"Now, to rid myself of this," the past Omnia murmured.
Azumi's breath hitched as she snapped back to the present, the memory searing through her mind. Abandonment.
"You're that bitch who thought she was too good for me!" she screamed, her voice trembling with rage.
Omnia's eyes glowed faintly indigo. "Who would have thought I'd run into my discarded chaos in a place like this? You're looking well, Azumi."
Nicole blinked, caught in the tension. "Wait—do you two know each other?"
"Azumi," Omnia said calmly, "is all of my chaotic and dark essence reborn. My twisted shadow, you could say."
"You're the only twisted one here!" Azumi's voice broke into a manic laugh. "Thinking you're better than me. For what? Some man?"
"Well," Omnia said with a small smile, "he is one hell of a man."
That was the spark.
Azumi's mana erupted outward in a violent bloom, filling the chamber with waves of viridian light. Bio Mana crackled around her like liquid lightning, turning the walls emerald as magitons swirled so thickly they distorted the air. Nicole shielded her face, feeling the force press against her skin like a hurricane.
Omnia didn't move. Her cyan eyes burned with calm, unshaken power as her pupils sharpened into feline slits. "Now that I've achieved my plan of being by Moonlight's side," she thought, "Perhaps I should subdue her. The master could make her useful."
Her lips curved into a slow, deadly smile.
Nicole dropped into a fighting stance beside her, chest rising and falling in rapid rhythm. The cells around them rattled as the magickal pressure mounted. Dust fell from the ceiling. It was clear they wouldn't leave this floor without blood being spilled.
And in that suffocating silence before the storm, Omnia's indigo aura unfurled—slow, regal, and hungry for battle.
Meanwhile...
My last portal ripped open with a harsh, metallic shriek, spilling Alex, Danica, and Ameera onto the cold floor of Floor 34. The air hit them like a slap—thick with the stench of iron and death. Blood had dried in uneven splatters across the walls, and mana crystals flickered weakly in their sconces, their light shifting between ghostly blue and pallid white. The silence was heavy. Not peaceful—the shit was suffocating, as if the very walls remembered screams that hadn't yet faded.
Alex pushed himself up first, his boots scraping against the blood-caked concrete. "Where's the rest of 'em?"
Danica brushed the dust from her eight tails, her expression curling into mild disgust. "This place is depressing me," she muttered, her tone clipped but steady. "Definitely fits the prison vibes."
Alex scanned the dim corridor. "Still... I don't see Xi and the others."
The two of them moved with quiet, tense steps, their boots echoing off the cold walls. But before either could investigate further, Ameera froze mid-step. Her sharp Vulpin ears flicked up, twitching once. Then again. A scent had sliced through the decay—familiar, deep, heavy with something she'd carried in her heart since the day her world had burned.
Her voice trembled. "Father."
Both Alex and Danica turned sharply toward her. Alex's hand dropped to his side. "Are you sure? Which way?"
Ameera didn't answer. She just bolted—her tails snapping behind her as she sprinted toward a chamber door halfway down the corridor. Her heartbeat drowned out the dripping walls. But as she drew near, something else invaded her senses—metallic, sweet, and predatory. That scent. That woman, she could never forget.
She stopped dead, her claws flexing as the color drained from her face and muzzle. "The Blood Witch is near..."
Alex's jaw clenched as he caught up to her. "She's here too?"
The answer came before she could reply. The heavy door before them creaked open with a slow, mocking sound. From the dimness within stepped a woman—tall, maroon-skinned, blonde, and terrifyingly casual. Kiranna. Her glasses caught the light as she flicked a stray strand of hair from her face, followed by ten Wolvens from the Una Clan shuffling out behind her, their eyes hollow and skin faintly gray under the glow of her crimson mana.
Kiranna gave them a once-over, her smile sharp and amused. "Who the fuck are you three? No guests should be on this level."
Then her gaze snagged on the trembling Vulpin. Recognition widened her smirk into something cruel. "Wait a minute… aren't you that fox bitch I left for dead? You actually survived and came here to die? Oh, that's... adorable. Haha hahaha!"
Her laughter bounced around the corridor like knives scraping glass—until Alex's glare cut through it. His eyes glowed with a violent red light, his teeth bared in quiet fury.
"You're the Blood Witch," he said, voice low and venomous. "You attacked Talasi. You killed my father."
Kiranna stopped laughing. Her smirk faltered, curiosity glinting through her irritation as she summoned her staff with a casual flick of her hand. "Talasi? You don't look like the Devil of Velonica. I heard he was an Oni."
The moment she finished, the pressure shifted. Alex's aura exploded outward as his rage peaked. The skill [Heavenly Wolf] flared active. His body shifted—mana-created ears poked through his dreadlocks, his canines sharpening, iridescent mana wings unfurling from his back as Bio Mana erupted in radiant arcs of light. The air vibrated from the sheer pressure of his power.
Kiranna tilted her head. "Ohh. You're a Tengu. Then you must be talking about the red-winged guy I—"
She didn't get to finish.
Alex vanished in a blink. The floor cracked where he'd stood. He reappeared in front of her, fist drawn back, eyes blazing with hatred—and then the world erupted. A red filament snapped from Kiranna's fingers, yanking a Wolven into Alex's path an instant before the blow landed.
His punch connected not with the Blood Witch but with the chest of the prisoner. There was no time to stop it. The explosion of mana shattered the corridor with a deafening boom. Flesh tore apart like paper. The Wolven's upper body vaporized in a burst of crimson mist. Bone, muscle, and fur splattered across the walls. The smell of blood flooded the air in waves—hot and coppery, burning the nose and throat.
Ameera screamed. "Lord Alex, nooo!"
Alex froze, still staring at his outstretched fist, slick with gore. The body—or what was left of it—collapsed to the floor, twitching once before falling still.
His heart dropped into his stomach. "Shit. I didn't mean to do that." His voice cracked, his chest heaving with guilt and disbelief.
Silence blanketed the room for the moment before being broken by the Blood Imp.
Kiranna's grin returned, wide and venomous. "Well, well, now. Someone's got a temper. It's giving baby boy energy."
Alex's breathing quickened. "I'm going to murder you, you insidious bitch."
"How dare a fucking orphan talk to me like that?" she said, giggling. "And you've chosen quite the shit time to try it. Especially since I just finished poppin' a pill. Are you dumb?"
Alex frowned. "A what?"
The answer came as her mana ignited. The entire floor shook as Kiranna's energy exploded outward. The pressure struck them like thunder from a giant's lungs. The very air shimmered crimson. Each of the ten Wolvens behind her began to tremble violently as the same red light flared within their bodies, veins lighting up like molten lines beneath their fur.
The scent of blood was unbearable now—raw and electric.
Then, from the back of the group, one figure stepped forward. Roman.
The gray-furred Wolven moved with mechanical precision, his face expressionless, eyes glassy and dim. None of them yet realized he was being puppeteered—not until Ameera's voice cracked the silence.
"Uncle Roman… nooo…" She fell to her knees, the sound breaking somewhere between disbelief and heartbreak. Her tail drooped, her body trembling as tears welled in her eyes. For an instant, she saw the man who taught her to gather fruits.
Danica's voice was quiet but sharp. "Her uncle's a hostage, too? Shit."
Alex didn't answer. His gaze followed Ameera's to the Wolven before them—the man she'd once called family now standing in a battle stance, his claws dripping with corrupted blood mana.
Kiranna laughed again, high-pitched and wicked. "You weak-ass men always crack me up. Always thinking you'll claw your way back to power. Yet you can never be truly ruthless like a woman can."
No one moved. The silence was louder than her words. Alex's breathing was heavy. The corpse of the Wolven he'd killed moments ago still steamed on the floor beside him. His own blood-soaked hands trembled as he clenched them into fists.
The rage that burned inside him met something else—doubt.
He wanted to charge, to tear Kiranna apart piece by piece. But standing between them were more Wolven prisoners — living shields bound to her by her sick, red strings of mana. And behind him, Ameera knelt, broken. Danica's expression was unreadable, but her stance was coiled and ready, waiting for his lead.
He was only a few steps from vengeance—and yet, in that moment, it felt farther away than ever.
The light dimmed, the scent of blood thick as tar. This was his test. One I couldn't take for him.
And from that instant forward, Alex would have to decide what kind of man he truly was—the dog driven by rage, or the warrior who could bear its weight.
[End of Chapter]
[1] April on Earth.