Poxitarium Invade

Radiating spark

She feels the weight of their stares bearing down on her, a tangible pressure that amplifies the vulnerability gnawing at her insides. Each gaze feels like a physical touch, and as she hesitates to meet their eyes, a whirlwind of emotions courses through her. Fear grips her tightly, twisting in her stomach as she imagines the myriad of judgments and thoughts reflected back at her. Yet, despite this consuming dread, an insatiable curiosity pulls her downward, compelling her to steal a glance at herself. The moment she does, her breath catches sharply in her throat, a gasp trapped in the sudden realization of her transformation. Her body, once concealed and ordinary in its appearance, now radiates with an ethereal pink glow, a luminescent hue that pulses softly as if it possesses a heartbeat of its own, imbued with an energy that feels both foreign and intoxicating. Panic surges within her, a relentless wave crashing over her mind, forcing her muscles to tense and a shudder to ripple through her entire form.

"Why am I like this?" she whispers, her voice trembling and quivering with fear, a fragile sound that barely escapes her lips. "I didn't look like this the last time I checked!" The words hang in the air, laden with disbelief and confusion, echoing her turmoil.

Thoughts race through her mind like a storm, chaotic and relentless, as she scrambles to her feet, her legs trembling beneath her as if they might give way at any moment. She darts a furtive glance at the General, who stands nearby, equally bewildered by the unfolding scene, though his expression reveals only the faintest hint of his own confusion, a mix of shock and uncertainty etched into his features.

~I thought it was just my face that glowed beneath the mask, but my entire body?~ she wonders, the weight of this realization settling heavily within her like a cold dread that sinks deep into her bones. Her mind spins, a frantic search for answers igniting within her as she grapples with the unsettling nature of her transformation, desperate to understand how she has become something so otherworldly.

Kaizu's illness

Meanwhile, Kaizu lounged in the common area, stewing in his frustration. The General had kept him idle for most of the day, a pointed reminder of how expendable he seemed in the man’s eyes. The memory of the General denying him any real enjoyment during their last encounter tormented him, a bitter resentment curling in his gut. The thought of that woman—her—foaming at the mouth had sent a dark thrill through him, a morbid satisfaction that still lingered, refusing to be quelled. He hadn't felt an ounce of compassion in that moment, only a cold detachment and the simmering anger of being denied.

By the time he decided to retreat to his dorm, his frustration had reached a boiling point. The idea of defiling her pillow again crossed his mind, a crude attempt to release the tension coiling inside him and to see her reaction afterward. He relished the thought of her discovering the cum on her pillow, the shock, the confusion—it was almost enough to make him smile.

As he made his way down the dimly lit hallway, Kaizu's thoughts took an unexpected turn. He spotted a woman from another species, quietly slipping into her own dorm. His mind, always quick and opportunistic, latched onto a new idea before he even fully processed it, the sudden shift surprising even him. ~Why settle for one when there’s another ripe opportunity?~ The thought danced through his mind, dark and enticing, as he considered getting her into his own dorm. The idea excited him, awakens a feral hunger and raw within, pushing his previous plans to the back of his mind as a more immediate thrill presented itself.

"Hey..." Kaizu's voice wavered, a practiced quiver that made him sound genuinely troubled. He let his shoulders slump, his expression carefully crafted into one of sadness. "I need some advice... I... I don't know what to do." A few well-placed tears slid down his cheeks, glistening as they caught the dim light. He reached out, gently grabbing the creature's arm, his touch just firm enough to convey desperation.

The creature paused, its hand still resting on the doorknob, its large eyes narrowing with concern. Compassion tugged at its features as it turned to face him fully. "Oh no, what happened? Are you alright?" it asked, its voice soft, filled with an innocence Kaizu found all too easy to exploit.

"I don't want to talk out here..." Kaizu's voice dropped to a whisper, his gaze shifting nervously down the hallway as if the very walls might betray him. "I just... I need reassurance... Please, can we go inside?"

Without waiting for a reply, Kaizu turned and stepped into his room, his heart pounding with anticipation. As the creature hesitated in the doorway, Kaizu quickly scanned the room, noting with satisfaction that it was empty.~Even better~, he thought, his mind calculating every step.~She's not here to wittness~

The creature, ever sympathetic, followed him inside, the door clicking shut behind them with a soft, almost imperceptible sound as it locked. It didn't seem to notice, too focused on Kaizu's apparent distress.

Kaizu sat heavily in the chair by the table, his face buried in his hands as he feigned deep sorrow. The creature moved closer, its sympathy drawing it in like a moth to a flame. Kaizu let the silence linger for a moment, waiting until he could sense the creature's concern deepening.

Suddenly, Kaizu stood and crossed the small space between them, wrapping his arms around the creature in what appeared to be a desperate embrace. "Thank you," he whispered, his voice thick with fabricated emotion. "I just... I needed this."

The creature hesitated briefly before returning the hug, its touch gentle. "It's going to be alright," it murmured, trying to comfort him, unaware of the true nature of his intentions.

As Kaizu held the creature, his mind began to wander. He couldn't help but notice something off, a detail that unsettled him. There was no familiar anatomy to speak of.~Where is it?!~ he thought, frustration building. ~It must be somewhere~

Just then, a strange, pungent odor wafted from the creature’s upper body, catching Kaizu off guard. He sniffed, trying to be discreet, but the scent was strong and unfamiliar, something he hadn't encountered before. He grimaced slightly, his fake sorrow momentarily slipping as his focus shifted to this new puzzle. But he quickly recomposed himself, tightening his hold on the creature, determined to maintain control of the situation.

The creature took a small step back, a soft chuckle escaping its lips. "I'm sorry! Please, don't smell there... it's my private area," it said with a nervous smile, its innocence still intact, unaware of the darkness lurking behind Kaizu's glimmering eyes. The creature had just come from an encounter with someone else, and it seemed a little disoriented, unsure of what Kaizu truly was or what his intentions might be.

Kaizu's glimmering eyes betray a sudden shift in demeanor as he swiftly reaches for the creature's corn-like appendage, eliciting a deep, ragged squeal akin to a large animal's roar. His fingers graze the sensitive tip, still tender from the previous encounter. "Well, well, it's my first time seeing a woman with a horn," Kaizu muses with a perverse chuckle.

The creature protests in a gender-indistinct voice, "No, stop!" causing Kaizu to become even more intrigued by its ambiguous nature. With a devilish grin, he declares, "I don't mind males either. I just want to have a good time with you. Behave."

In a flash, his hand clamped over the creature’s mouth, muffling its panicked cries securing it in a tight grip. He pulled it close, his other hand rubbing his own cock , getting it out of his pants, releasing precum onto the creature's thin, jelly-like leg.The creature’s muffled protests grew more frantic, but Kaizu was far beyond compassion.

Without a word, he dragged the creature from the table area into the small, dimly lit storage room at the back of his quarters. The door clicked shut behind them, sealing them in the confined space. Kaizu’s eyes scanned the room until they landed on a length of rope hanging within reach. He grabbed it, the rough fibers biting into his hand, and turned back to the creature.

With methodical precision, he tied the rope around the creature’s slender form, forcing it to its knees. The creature’s muffled cries barely penetrated the thick air of the room, its eyes wide with terror. Kaizu leaned down, his lips brushing against its ear as he whispered, "It’ll be over soon... if you behave."

He stepped back, admiring his work, a twisted satisfaction coursing through him as he took in the sight of the creature bound and helpless before him. It stirred something primal within him, an urge he no longer cared to control.

Kaizu’s lips curled into a fucked up smile, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of dark thoughts and madness. Surprised by his own actions, Kaizu declares, "I’d do great as a bounty hunter," he muttered to himself, the thought fueling his manic laughter. He was losing control, the lines between pleasure and mental illness blurring in his mind.

“Now… Open up,” Kaizu ordered, his voice laced with a dangerous edge as he took his hand away from the creature’s mouth. Without hesitation, he shoved his cock inside, using the creature’s mouth as a tool for his own pleasure. The creature, moaned involuntarily—a sound that was natural for its kind, but disturbingly foreign and unsettling to Kaizu.

The creature, possessing a transparent aquamarine hue, has a horn-like appendage that becomes aroused in the upper part of its body. Kaizu, still unaware that the creature is male, begins to jerk on the sensitive horn, causing the creature to moan in a deep, unsettling tone. The eerie sounds grate against Kaizu's ears, triggering his PTSD and pushing him further into a state of agitation.

The creature’s moans were low-pitched, grunting and groaning unsettling noises resonating deep within Kaizu’s ears, triggering something buried within him—memories of past traumas, battles fought, and horrors witnessed. The sounds, alien and grating, wormed their way into his mind, unsettling him, stirring up a storm of suppressed rage and fear. His irritation grew with each passing second, the creature’s innocent noises turning into a catalyst for his spiraling madness.

The creature, still unaware of the danger it was in, began to plead. "Please don't! Why… why do you do this? I’ve done nothing!… nothing…” Its voice trembled, gagged and muffled by the continued thrusts made by Kaizu, confusion and fear lacing every word. It was a male, but Kaizu, lost in his desperation and arousal, didn’t care anymore. The creature’s innocence only made it worse, its pure confusion an agonizing reminder of everything Kaizu had lost.

As Kaizu continues to use the creature's body for his own fucked pleasure, he becomes increasingly irritated by the disturbing noises. In a sudden, violent motion, he snaps the creature's elongated neck, killing it slowly. The innocent being, confused and failing to comprehend Kaizu's annoyance, dies in a state of utter bewilderment, its final words a desperate plea: "Why? What have I done?..."

Kaizu, trembling and covering his ears, screams, "Stop!!" as he succumbs to shock and the overwhelming grip of his PTSD. With the lifeless body of his victim before him, he is gripped by fear and the realization, dreading the consequences he must now face. Will anyone believe that he snapped? Will they take it lightly? His mind races with anxiety and uncertainty, knowing that he should be afraid of what lies ahead.

Kaizu stood there, his mind a chaotic storm of panic and guilt, unable to comprehend what he had just done. The lifeless body of the creature lay beneath him, its translucent aquamarine skin now dull and cold. He was trembling, still caught in the grip of his PTSD, unable to separate reality from his illed fears. He had killed a creature—a male, not even the female he had first assumed—and he hadn't stopped to think or even care. The door to the room swung open with a soft hiss, and someone entered. Her eyes, wide with a mixture of horror and determination, locked onto the scene before her.

She arrived, her heart racing as the creature's final, desperate cries reverberated in her mind like a haunting melody. Each anguished wail resonated with her very being, compelling her to rush to the scene with a sense of urgency that outweighed her fear. As she burst into the room, the horrific sight before her sent a shockwave through her system. Kaizu’s naked form sprawled over the lifeless body of the creature, a grotesque tableau that made her heart pound with a blend of dread and fury. In that instant, clarity surged through her, illuminating the grim reality of what had transpired and the urgent need to confront him.

Kaizu, still caught in the throes of his own madness, instinctively recoiled at the sight of her intrusion. Panic surged within him, fueled by the terror of being discovered and the remnants of his rage. Without a second thought, he lunged at her, his actions driven by primal instinct rather than reason. She barely had time to process what was happening as he seized her, pulling her deeper into the room, away from the light and into the suffocating darkness of his spiraling chaos. The door sealed shut behind them with a resounding thud, trapping them in a nightmarish embrace.

She fought against him, her body struggling as she attempted to push him off, a whirlwind of instinct and fear coursing through her veins. But Kaizu was lost to his frenzy, his mind a tempest of confusion and aggression. In one brutal, swift motion, he twisted her neck, the crack echoing like a gunshot in the stillness of the room. Her body slumped lifelessly into his arms, a fragile marionette whose strings had been severed.

It wasn’t until her body hit the floor, joining the other in a grim tableau of violence and despair, that the full weight of his actions crashed down upon him like an avalanche. Kaizu stared in horror at the two bodies lying before him, his hands trembling uncontrollably as he grappled with the chilling realization. A cold dagger pierced through his heart—he had just extinguished another being's life, snuffing out a flicker of existence as easily as one might snuff out a candle.

“Oh… what have I done?” Kaizu’s voice escaped him in a barely audible whisper, trembling with a mixture of fear and horror. His knees buckled beneath the enormity of his actions, collapsing to the floor in a heap of despair. Tears streamed down his face, hot and unrelenting, as the reality of his monstrous deed seeped into his consciousness. “I’m gonna be in deep shit,” he muttered, his voice choked with raw, uncontainable sobs that reverberated through the still air.

The room, once vibrant and alive with his twisted desires, had transformed into a tomb of his own making, the bodies lying there like wicked reminders of the darkness he had unleashed. Kaizu was paralyzed by fear, the magnitude of his guilt pressing down on him like a heavy shroud. He was trapped—not only within the confines of the room but also ensnared in the labyrinth of his own mind, plagued by regret and haunted by the inevitable consequences that loomed just beyond the shadows. There was no turning back now; the path he had chosen was irrevocable, a dark descent from which there was no escape.

Cruel Fate

The king stood as an imposing figure, his dark blue skin a striking contrast against the muted tones of the chamber, while his eyes, deep and abyssal like the ocean's depths, held the weight of countless sorrows. His presence radiated an undeniable power, and when he spoke, his voice resonated with the authority of an echoing chasm, reverberating through the very walls around him. The silence that had settled in the room, a deceptive calm, was abruptly shattered by the king’s anguished cries that erupted from the hallway. "My queen! Where is my queen?!" he bellowed, each word laced with desperation and profound sorrow, a haunting lament that seemed to call upon the very fabric of the universe for an answer.

The General, seated with an air of composure that was swiftly unraveled by the sudden chaos, rose from his chair, his brow furrowed in confusion and concern. He quickly issued an order to his subordinate, his voice steady despite the turmoil surrounding him. "Fereyan," he commanded, adjusting his uniform with a precision born of training, still feeling the lingering effects of his earlier encounter with the radiant woman who had captivated his attention. "Go bring the King," he instructed, but before he could even finish his sentence, the king forcefully burst into the office, his massive frame trembling with raw emotion, the very air thickening with his palpable grief.

"I cannot feel my queen anymore," the king sobbed, his eyes glistening with tears that threatened to spill down his cheeks like raindrops from a storm cloud. The sight of him, a regal being brought low by sorrow, stirred a deep sympathy within those who witnessed it. The woman, suddenly aware of her nakedness and the vulnerability it conferred, instinctively covered her arms, momentarily forgetting the ethereal glow that emanated from her body, a beacon of light in the shadow of despair.

Though the king noticed her radiance, the enormity of the situation consumed his thoughts, rendering him oblivious to the beauty that surrounded him. "What do you mean?" the woman asked, her voice trembling as she processed the king’s abrupt entrance and the palpable panic radiating from him. Her heart raced, caught in the web of fear woven by his words.

"I think she's dead," the king whispered, his voice barely audible yet resonating through the room like a mournful poem, a haunting melody of grief and despair that echoed in the hearts of all present. Meanwhile, Kaizu trembled in defiance, thoughts spiraling in his mind. I don't know what to do... What... to do? This has gone way too far... He looked in shock at the bodies of both their murders, the gravity of the situation crashing down around him like a tidal wave.

The hallway from which the king's anguished cries echoed was reserved for the most trusted and high-ranking individuals within the General's circle, a place steeped in privilege and strict loyalty. It was an exclusive corridor, frequented only by the queen, the king of the Noxis, Kaizu, the queen’s closest allies, and an array of unknown guards and formidable warrior species, each sworn to protect the realm.

As the king’s desperate yells filled the air, a wave of confusion rippled through the corridor, causing hearts to race with anxiety. Doors flew open, and inhabitants—each one accustomed to the solemnity and secrecy that governed their surroundings—emerged to investigate the sudden upheaval. The normally serene atmosphere was now fraught with alarm, tension palpable as the king's cries reverberated through the hallway, transforming the once tranquil corridor into a cacophony of dread and uncertainty. Shadows flickered as figures rushed forward, their faces a blend of concern and fear, each one sensing that the delicate balance of their world had been irrevocably shattered.

Regret and frustration

Kaizu, who had been silently brooding in the shadows, was jolted by the king’s frantic declaration of "Where is my Quinn?!" His heart raced with a fresh wave of terror and confusion. The realization struck him like a cold slap: “She was a Quinn?!” His eyes widened in horror, the magnitude of the king's distress sinking in with chilling clarity. Panic gripped him as he envisioned the potential consequences of his actions. "Well now I'm truly fucked!" Frozen in place, Kaizu's mind raced with fears of retribution, his body paralyzed by the dread of what punishment might await him. The once-bustling hallway now felt like a claustrophobic trap, each sound and shadow amplifying his mounting anxiety.

The General's eyes remained impassive as he scrutinized the footage from the hidden cameras embedded in the hallway under his desk, his expression as unreadable as ever. On the monitor, Kaizu's actions unfolded with a grim clarity: he was seen dragging someone into his dorm, followed by the ominous entry of the Queen. The General maintained his poker face, his mind processing the implications of the footage while concealing his intrigue behind a veil of stoicism.

Kaizu, feeling the weight of impending retribution, wiped his tear-streaked cheeks and struggled to compose himself. The crushing sense of grief and remorse settled heavily on him. ~Nothing is worth two deaths~ he thought, his spirit weighed down by the enormity of his actions. Resolute yet trembling, he made his way to the General’s office, his dread propelling him forward despite the internal turmoil. He bypassed the customary knock, driven by a grim acceptance of his fate.

Inside the office, confusion reigned as the radiant glowing woman was startled by the sudden intrusion, looked up in terror. Her gaze locked with the General’s, her eyes widening in fear as Kaizu entered. The room’s tense silence was shattered by Kaizu’s raw frustration; his fists were clenched tightly, his body trembling with suppressed emotion, on the verge of breaking down further.

Unkown power

In the depths of her panic, a sharp scream escaped her lips, echoing off the walls like a piercing alarm. "Aahh!! Kaizu, stay away!!" The urgency of her voice hung in the air, thick with terror. Her hands instinctively clutched the hypercube, its unfamiliar contours feeling both foreign and vital in her grasp. With a sudden burst of adrenaline, she hurled it at him with such force that it seemed to resonate with her fear, a tangible manifestation of her desperation. The cube arced through the air, enveloping Kaizu in a shimmering barrier, his form swallowed by the containment field as the light pulsed around him like a protective aura. The words slipped from her trembling lips, laced with dread as she uttered, "Oh no... I—" but the rest of her thought was lost in the tumult of her emotions.

The General, taken aback by the sudden turn of events, found himself momentarily at a loss for words. But as the shock faded, a surprised smirk crept across his face, an expression that felt almost out of place amidst the chaos. "Good job," he said, his tone laced with a rare hint of approval that surprised her even more. "You're dismissed." His words hung in the air, a strange mixture of encouragement and dismissal that left her feeling both relieved and unsettled.

Meanwhile, the King, unable to contain the growing frustration bubbling within him, cut through the tense atmosphere with an irate shout. "Did no one hear what I said?! I said I think she's dead!" His voice, tinged with irritation and urgency, underscored the gravity of his earlier distress, a reminder of the stakes at play that seemed to hang over them like a dark cloud. The sharpness of his words cut through her thoughts, intensifying her sense of isolation as she grappled with the unfolding chaos.

Overwhelmed and tearful, she muttered, "I think I should leave," her voice barely audible as exhaustion washed over her. It was evident in her weary tone that she was grappling with the uncertainty of the situation, the weight of what had just transpired pressing heavily on her shoulders. The fate of both Kaizu and the King seemed shrouded in an uneasy fog, each moment thick with ambiguity as she retreated, unsure of what lay ahead and desperate to escape the whirlwind of confusion.

She hurried into the bathroom, her heart racing as she grabbed a rovun robe, its fabric soft against her skin. Wrapping it around herself, she sought refuge in its folds, using it to conceal her glowing, radiant skin that felt like a beacon of her turmoil. With her appearance hidden, she emerged from the sanctuary of the bathroom, bowing respectfully as she made her way down the hallway, her mind still reeling from the chaos. The corridors were abuzz with hushed speculation about the turmoil in the General’s office, whispers swirling around the strange occurrences and the palpable sense of mayhem, each hushed word adding to the weight of her uncertainty as she navigated through the thrumming tension that enveloped her.

As she reaches her door, she opens it, only to be confronted by the horrifying sight of the two lifeless bodies, particularly the queen's. Her heart sinks deeper than ever before, and her soul awakens once more. Overwhelmed by shock and grief, she lets out a piercing yell and breaks down in tears, unsure of where to turn or who to seek for solace. Her anguished cries echo through the halls, reaching the General's office.

Growing increasingly annoyed and impatient, the General stepped out of his office, the door swinging open with a decisive thud as he strode purposefully toward the source of the commotion. Each step was measured, a display of his resolve, yet beneath the surface, an undercurrent of tension pulsed through him. Upon witnessing the gruesome scene that unfolded before him—chaos mingled with despair—he took a deep breath, summoning his composure. With an air of calm authority, he calmly and methodically closed the door behind him, a deliberate action that seemed to seal away the burden now weighing heavily on his shoulders like an anchor dragging him down.

"Nothing to see here," he announced with authoritative finality, his voice cutting through the thick atmosphere like a blade. "Everyone return to your duties and forget this ever happened!" His command resonated with the gravity of a man used to having his orders obeyed without question. The weight of his voice left no room for dissent, effectively silencing the murmurs of confusion that had spread through the onlookers. The crowd dissipated, scattering like leaves in the wind, but the tension in the air remained palpable, thickening the atmosphere with unspoken fear.

Meanwhile, she stood frozen in place, trembling and crying, her back pressed against the closed door as if seeking solace from the solid barrier behind her. The General loomed over her, a towering figure of authority amidst the chaos, yet his presence felt suffocating. The King’s wails intensified in the background, each cry echoing her worst fears and confirming the haunting reality that had settled upon them like a shroud. She felt the weight of his grief, a shared burden that threatened to crush her beneath its enormity.

"Is there nothing... we can do?" she finally asked, her voice quivering with a mix of emotions she could not quite identify. The tremor in her tone revealed her desperation, a longing for hope amidst the despair that surrounded them. It was a question that hung in the air, laden with the weight of possibility and the stark reality of their situation, as she searched the General's eyes for any sign of reassurance or guidance in the face of their overwhelming predicament.

Secret Promises

The General, his demeanor unshaken, pulled out his holographic communicator and dialed with a purposeful calm. "Vontum, I need your assistance with matter number 36. Prepare the rituals and everything required. Payment is ready," he said, his gaze fixed on her with a penetrating intensity.

Her eyes widened in shock at the gravity of the situation. Frowning deeply, tho the General could see only a glowing bulb, she made to leave, but the General’s stern grip on her hand stopped her. "Don’t go too far," he instructed with a seriousness that brooked no argument.

"I am not going to be your little payment!" she retorted, her voice trembling with a tumultuous blend of anger and sadness, emotions intensified by the recent events that had spiraled out of control. Each word felt like a defiant spark, igniting the raw feelings she struggled to contain.

The General’s expression hardened, his features sharpening into a mask of resolve. "Then the muzzle?" he said, his voice low and commanding as he loomed over her with an imposing presence that seemed to fill the room with a sense of foreboding. Without missing a beat, he activated his comm link, the device crackling to life with urgency. "Fereyan, bring the special muzzle equipment to her door," he commanded, his tone leaving no room for argument before abruptly cutting off the connection, the finality of his words hanging in the air like a heavy cloud.

Her eyes widened further, disbelief etched across her face as her chin quivered, the weight of the situation settling upon her shoulders like a heavy cloak. With a resigned sigh, she reluctantly agreed, her voice barely above a whisper. "Fine! I'll be good!" The words spilled from her lips as she hugged herself in despair, her gaze fixated on the floor, the once-vibrant pink glow of her aura now appearing stark and emotionless, a reflection of her inner turmoil and resignation.

As the General watched her, his face a carefully crafted mask of indifference, her thoughts raced wildly with a storm of questions and fears. ~Does he truly not care about the dire situation? The King is left crying alone, Kaizu trapped in the hypercube... And me a payment? How in the hell did I trap Kaizu when I couldn't even lift the cube for hours?~ The questions churned in her mind like a tempest, leaving her feeling increasingly isolated and overwhelmed as she stood before him, desperate for understanding but fearing the answers.

The hallway lay silent, the once-bustling space now heavy with the weight of recent events, its lively energy replaced by an oppressive stillness. As the General firmly grasped her arm with an air of grim determination, he began to drag her back toward his office, each step echoing with the finality of their circumstances.

"No!" she wailed, her voice cracking as tears streamed down her face in defiance, each droplet a testament to her anguish. "I'm tired..." Her words trembled with emotion, barely audible as they slipped past her lips, a desperate plea for understanding. "Sir..."

"Fereyan," the General called, his tone sharp as he handed her over to his loyal aide. Fereyan's imposing presence loomed over her, his grip unwavering and firm, ensuring she remained firmly under control. The weight of her situation felt even more suffocating in the shadow of the General's authority.

Once inside his office, the General sank into his chair, a deep sigh escaping him as he rubbed the bridge of his nose, fatigue evident in the lines etched upon his face. "It's like I'm in a kindergarten," he muttered irritably, his voice barely audible but thick with exasperation, as he lit a tabaco left on his desk. The smoke curled around him like a shroud, a visual manifestation of the frustration that seemed to envelop the room, intertwining with the remnants of the chaos they had just endured.

"Regarding your situation," he continued, his tone cold and commanding, "there is nothing more that can be done. I am sorry for your loss. Rest assured, I will make certain that the one responsible faces the full extent of my wrath." His demeanor remained unshaken, as though he were discussing a minor inconvenience rather than a grave tragedy.

She trembled in Fereyan's firm grasp, her sobs muffled and her eyes barely able to open. She struggled to reach for a tissue from the box, her arm stretching desperately out of Fereyan's hold. Tears streamed down her face as she wiped them away, her exhaustion so profound that her eyes closed tightly, refusing to open. All that remained visible was her radiant face, glowing faintly despite the profound sadness.

In the meantime, the King, devastated and resigned, desperate sobs echo through the halls as he exits, knowing that the General is resolute and that there is nothing more to be done except prepare the burial for his beloved queen.

"Tolius," the General addresses another subordinate. "Go anonymously and take the creature's body. We don't want double trouble. You know how to dispose of it." He takes a long drag from his tobacco, attempting to relax as he leans back into his chair.

The cube rests silently on the floor, its faint glow a testament to the fate that has befallen Kaizu, imprisoned and awaiting a consequence he had long earned, a destiny both deserved and inescapable.

Kaizu's fate

Meanwhile, inside the hyper cube, Kaizu was engulfed by a haunting and enigmatic darkness. The interior of the cube felt like an otherworldly prison, its confinement mimicking that of a claustrophobic broom closet, yet far more sinister. The space was a pitch-black void, devoid of any discernible features or dimensions. The oppressive darkness seemed to close in on him from all sides, an unyielding barrier that amplified his feelings of dread and isolation.

The walls of the hyper cube were smooth and shimmering with a ghostly, spectral quality. They absorbed light, making the darkness feel even more profound. Occasionally, faint, iridescent ripples of blue and violet light would flicker across the surface, like distant stars or the ghostly trails of an ethereal aurora, but they did little to dispel the overwhelming sense of confinement.

The floor and walls of the cube seemed to breathe in rhythm with an unnerving, low-frequency hum that Kaizu could feel vibrating through his bones. This sound was neither mechanical nor organic, but a constant, underlying thrum that created an oppressive atmosphere, as if the cube itself were alive and watching. The air inside felt unnaturally still, thick with a palpable sense of unease that made each breath feel labored.

Kaizu’s desperate cries for help echoed off the walls, but the sound was swallowed by the cube’s advanced acoustic dampening technology. The echoes became distorted, reverberating back to him in a mocking cadence that heightened his sense of despair. His voice, strained and raw, was rendered inaudible outside the cube until the General chose to activate the holographic interface.

The exterior of the hyper cube offered a stark contrast to the darkness within.

Its gleaming golden edges shimmered with an almost hypnotic allure, catching and reflecting any light that came near. Strange, cryptic symbols were etched into the golden surface, their designs intricate and mysterious. Each face of the cube was adorned with these enigmatic glyphs, which seemed to pulse and shift subtly, giving the impression of ancient, arcane energy embedded within the structure. The symbols were a stark reminder of the cube's otherworldly origin and its purpose as a tool of imprisonment and torment.

As Kaizu struggled against the invisible constraints of his dark prison, the cube’s exterior remained a constant, unsettling presence. Its mysterious symbols and golden edges stood as a cruel irony, a constant reminder of the freedom and grandeur he had been denied. The darkness inside was not just physical but psychological, designed to amplify his fear and helplessness.

Occasionally, the silence would be shattered by the deafening roar of an unseen beast, its guttural growls and screeches echoing through the chamber with a feral intensity. These unsettling noises seemed to come from all directions, as if the very fabric of the cube were alive with menacing entities that lurked just beyond the reach of his perception.

Kaizu's senses were heightened, every sound magnified by the oppressive silence that enveloped him. He could feel the vibrations of the monstrous roars through the walls and floor, a visceral reminder of the unseen horrors that prowled in the darkness. The sounds were so vivid and pervasive that they seemed almost tangible, as though the creatures were brushing against him or circling his confinement.

Despite the overwhelming sense of dread, Kaizu could not see or identify any of these entities. The darkness was complete and impenetrable, concealing any hint of the beasts that seemed to inhabit the space. He tried to push himself as far away from the source of the sounds as possible, but there was no escaping the eerie feeling of eyes watching him, or the spectral sensation of claws grazing just out of sight. The roars and screeches were interspersed with chilling, unnatural whispers that seemed to taunt and torment him, heightening his sense of paranoia and helplessness.

Abysal cycle

She is left alone once more in the stark confines of the office, surrounded by the imposing presence of the General and the guards, as if the tumultuous events that had just unfolded were little more than a fleeting mirage—a troubling dream that was never meant to be remembered or acknowledged. The air is thick with an unsettling stillness, punctuated only by the sound of her own ragged breathing, which echoes in her ears like a haunting reminder of the chaos she had just experienced. Her heart races, still quickened by the adrenaline of the confrontation, and yet now it feels oddly out of place in the silence that envelops her.

Suddenly, a holographic buzz emanates from the desk, cutting through the oppressive quiet like a beacon of interruption. The soft, glowing light of the holographic display flickers to life, casting ethereal shadows across the walls, momentarily illuminating the solemn faces around her. The General responds to the sound with a terse nod, a gesture that betrays little of the thoughts racing through his mind, but she can sense a shift in the atmosphere, an undercurrent of tension that hints at the seriousness of the situation.

A deep, gravelly voice crackled through the speaker, resonating with authority and the weight of experience, as if the very walls of the room leaned in to listen. “Everything is ready, sir. I'm awaiting your command,” comes the steady, measured tone of an elderly man from the other end of the transmission. His voice carries the richness of age, layered with the authority that comes from years of service and experience, echoing with the implications of the decisions yet to be made. It is a voice that commands respect, one that has likely been the bearer of orders and commands in moments of critical importance before.

As the words linger in the air, she feels a sense of foreboding wash over her, the implications of the conversation slipping through her mind like grains of sand. What exactly was ready? What command awaited? The questions swirl in her consciousness, igniting a flicker of anxiety within her. The General's eyes narrow slightly as he processes the information, and she can almost see the gears turning in his mind as he weighs the choices before him. The guards shift their stances, the tension palpable in the room as they await the next move.

In that moment, time seems to stretch, and she is acutely aware of her isolation within this chamber of authority. The weight of the previous confrontation hangs heavy in the air, and the atmosphere is thick with unspoken words, a silence that feels almost tangible as she stands on the precipice of uncertainty.

Sinking Love

Meanwhile, the King, draped in sorrow, approaches the room where he had heard the desperate cries. But as he opens the door, he finds only emptiness and a hint of the vibe that just transpired. His membranes, once radiant with shared love, now feel cold and lifeless against his skin. Gently, he caresses them, his touch a haunting echo of the affection they had shown each other. As he activates the membranes, a soft blue light bathes his darkened form, a stark contrast to the crushing grief enveloping him. He feels like his whole word just changed in a second. The one moment you feel like everything is in balance and perfect, and the next day your whole world crushes apart and it's like you wake up to reality.

Through a wave of telepathic anguish, he announces to the entire population, “The Quinn is dead.” Each word carries the weight of his despair, reverberating through the minds of his people like a thunderclap, echoing in the recesses of their consciousness. The impact is immediate and devastating, sending shockwaves through the collective psyche of the realm, leaving a trail of disbelief and sorrow in its wake. As he drifts toward his own dormitory, a deep sense of loss wraps around him like a heavy shroud, overwhelming him with a profound sense of failure that gnaws at his core.

How could this happen? My beloved Quinn… Were we not destined to share a long life together, to navigate the complexities of our world hand in hand? In death, our bond was supposed to be eternal, transcending the limitations of mortality. But why do I feel so utterly alone in this vast universe? The questions swirl in his mind, each one more painful than the last. Despite his efforts to maintain a facade of composure as a king, the unbearable reality crashes down around him, a relentless tide that threatens to pull him under. What is a king without his queen? What is the purpose of a throne if it is to be occupied by a man burdened with loneliness?

He swiftly closes the telepathic link, severing the connection and shutting out the anguished cries of his people, their collective grief a haunting melody that fills his ears with sorrow. Settling into his empty bed, he feels like a dark cloud hanging low in the sky, suffocating in the hollow space that once echoed with laughter and love. The echoes of their shared moments haunt him mercilessly—meals eaten together, their fingers entwined as they savored each bite; experiences shared under the starlit sky, where dreams flowed freely and plans for the future shimmered with possibility; and the constant presence of one another, a warmth that filled even the coldest nights. Now, in the suffocating silence of his chambers, he is left with the unbearable absence of his Quinn, her laughter replaced by the chilling void of her absence.

~I should have taken the Underworld course when I had the chance~, he laments silently, a piercing regret cutting through him like a dagger. The weight of his grief presses down on him, an oppressive force that makes it difficult to breathe. The realization that he could have prepared for this eventuality stings sharply, intensifying the bitterness in his heart. Each heartbeat feels like a reminder of what he has lost, the world outside continuing to turn as he is trapped in a moment of profound sorrow, the shadows lengthening around him as night falls. In this cocoon of despair, he wonders if he will ever emerge, if the light of hope can pierce through the suffocating darkness that now surrounds him.

Mocking expectation

The scene shifts back to the office, cloaked in an oppressive silence. She stands there, feeling as though she’s been cast into a void of judgment and reprimand.Her eyes are brimming with tears, the heaviness of her emotions threatening to spill over as she confronts the General with a mix of desperation and indignation. “You said I’m dismissed. Why are you so cruel and unjust?” Her frustration is palpable, the raw edge to her tone slicing through the tension in the room like a blade. Each word feels like a protest against the unfairness of her situation, an attempt to assert herself in a world where she feels increasingly powerless. Tolius’s grip on her arm tightens, a clear signal for her to remain silent, his fingers digging into her skin with an unyielding pressure that adds to her sense of entrapment.

The General stands before her, impassive and cold, his expression a mask of authority as he fixes his steely gaze on her. The intensity of his stare sends a shiver down her spine, and she feels the weight of his presence pressing down on her. After what feels like an eternity, he finally speaks, his voice steady and commanding, devoid of any hint of empathy. “Pick up the cube again,” he commands, the clarity of his tone leaving no room for negotiation or dissent.

With trembling hands and tears threatening to spill, she approaches the hypercube, its energy pulsating with an intensity that sends waves of pain radiating through her body. The force emanating from it is overwhelming, and she instinctively recoils, her instincts screaming at her to retreat from its grasp. “I can’t,” she protests, her voice tinged with frustration and a sense of defeat that weighs heavily on her heart. Her eyes fall to the ground, unable to meet the General’s piercing gaze, as if the very act of looking at him would shatter whatever remaining resolve she possesses.

“Again,” he repeats, amusement lacing his voice, as if her struggle is an entertaining spectacle rather than a genuine cry for help. The condescension in his tone is a cruel reminder of her vulnerability, further fueling the fire of her frustration.

Her resolve begins to falter under the weight of exhaustion and emotional turmoil, a storm of conflicting feelings swirling within her. She stands there, rooted in place, her frustration morphing into a soft whimper as she clenches her fists tightly, her nails digging into her palms. “Again, I said,” the General’s voice grows darker, more authoritative, a thunderous command that resonates through the room and leaves her reeling.

In that moment, her anger ignites like a spark in dry kindling, her energy shifting to a fiery red hue, a visible manifestation of her fury radiating from her very core. “You motherfucker!” she shouts, the words bursting forth with a fierce intensity that surprises everyone, even herself. Without a moment’s hesitation, she hurls the hypercube with all her might, a desperate act of defiance that propels the cube hurtling through the air. It narrowly misses its target, a testament to her unrefined control, and she watches in disbelief as it careens away, the General’s smirk remaining unperturbed, his eyes gleaming with mockery and a cruel sense of victory.

Overwhelmed by a wave of sensations—pain in her chest, gnawing hunger, unquenchable thirst, and the heavy cloak of exhaustion—all swirl into a dizzying vortex that threatens to consume her. The adrenaline coursing through her amplifies her distress, pushing her deeper into a state of shock and disorientation. In that chaotic moment, her body betrays her, and she collapses to the ground, her energy faltering, unable to endure the relentless pressure any longer.

The hypercube lands with a thud on the desk, a brief moment of rebellion before it bounces and settles back onto the floor, almost returning to its original position as if mocking her feeble attempts at resistance. She is left alone in a world that seems to have turned its back on her, unprepared for the harsh reality she now faces. Her mind spirals with confusion about her true identity, memories of her past blurring into a collage of childhood recollections and fragmented experiences from the Faculty, leaving her feeling more lost than ever. No one prepared her for this fate, and now, in the aftermath of her defiance, she is left without a comforting presence or a kind word, the silence around her a painful reminder of her solitude.

Embracing herself in a self-hug, she seeks solace in her own arms, a small comfort amidst the deep-seated self-loathing. Never feeling enough, never truly satisfied, always gripped by fear and indecision—she has been unprepared for the harshness of life. Her remaining strength wanes as she faces the General, whose narrowed, domineering gaze remains fixed on her.

Unable to summon the will to speak, she lowers her gaze to the ground, surrendering to the plush rug beneath her, its fibers soft against her skin but unable to cushion the weight of her despair. The coolness of the rug offers a fleeting respite from the storm of emotions raging within her, a momentary balm that contrasts sharply with the turmoil in her heart. Exhausted from the emotional and physical strain, she closes her eyes, slipping into a state of near unconsciousness where the edges of reality blur, and the pain begins to ebb, if only for a moment.

In this fragile silence, the world around her fades, the chaotic cacophony of her thoughts quieting as she drifts further away from consciousness. It is a realm where the burdens of her situation feel lighter, a sanctuary from the harshness that awaits her upon awakening. Yet, just as she begins to find solace in the enveloping darkness, the General’s whisper cuts through the stillness like a knife, sharp and unyielding, laced with a disturbing satisfaction that sends a shiver down her spine. “Good girl,” he murmurs, his tone a chilling blend of dominance and contentment, each word dripping with condescension and a twisted sense of triumph.

The utterance hangs in the air, thick and suffocating, shattering her brief moment of peace and jolting her back to the harsh reality of her situation. The warmth of submission fills her with a sickening unease, and she can feel the remnants of her strength slipping away. She fights to remain anchored in her own mind, to resist the insidious pull of his words, but the weight of his approval weighs heavily on her shoulders, a shackle binding her to his will.

In that moment, she is acutely aware of the power dynamic at play, the chilling realization that she is at the mercy of someone who finds pleasure in her suffering. The plush rug beneath her feels less like a refuge and more like a trap, a reminder of her vulnerability as she grapples with the knowledge that her autonomy is slipping through her fingers like sand.

Ready atire

The General rises with a deliberate grace, his commanding presence accentuated by the deep blue cape flowing majestically behind him, its fabric catching the light and creating an almost regal aura. Each movement is precise and filled with an ominous authority that seems to ripple through the air, asserting his dominance over the space. As he strides purposefully towards her, lying asleep at his feet in a vulnerable state, the atmosphere thickens with tension. He retrieves the hypercube from its resting place, its strange energy pulsating in response to his touch, and then passes it to Fereyan with a curt nod, a silent yet unmistakable command: "Handle it." The air is charged with an unspoken agreement, a recognition of the tasks ahead.

Without casting a second glance back, the General exits the office, leaving behind an air of unresolved tension. His footsteps echo authoritatively on the polished marble floor, each thud resonating with power and intent as he retrieves his holographic telephone from his left pocket. He calls out sharply, his voice resonating with a commanding control and underlying menace. “Vontum,” he intones, the name hanging in the air like a summons, each step a rhythmic thud of determination. “I trust you’re prepared. I’m en route. We’ll settle the payment later.” The promise in his voice is as unsettling as it is reassuring, a warning that lingers in the silence.

Approaching a door in the hallway he resides on, marked with a stern “Do Not Enter. Personnel Only” sign, his stride remains unwavering, each footfall echoing his resolve. Inside, he navigates to a nondescript cleaning supply area, a facade that masks the secrets within. With a fluid, practiced motion, he shifts a can of cleaning spray aside, revealing a hidden button that pulses with a faint glow. He presses it with a decisive click, causing the wall to slide open with a mechanical whir, unveiling a concealed platform that shifts beneath him as he steps onto it, the sensation akin to stepping into a different realm entirely.

“Vontum!” The General’s voice carries a chilling warmth, laced with an undertone of authority, as he opens his arms in a gesture of mock embrace to greet the darkened figure before him. His demeanor, cloaked in dark authority, contrasts sharply with Vontum’s more enigmatic presence, creating a palpable tension that fills the air. Vontum is draped in a flowing black cloak that shadows his face, the fabric seeming to absorb the light around him. His dark boots and oversized pants enhance his imposing stature, while the sinister grin that stretches across his face is accentuated by scars and stitches, adding an unsettling quality to his already ominous presence. He approaches with a guttural chuckle, a sound that echoes off the walls and hangs heavily in the air.

“General,” Vontum returns the greeting in a voice that rumbles from deep within him, reverberating with an unsettling authority as he responds with reverent deference. “It is an honor to host you. Everything you requested is prepared. Number 36 is ready.” The words roll off his tongue like a dark incantation, filled with significance and foreboding.

The room they enter is suffused with a dense, oppressive energy, the atmosphere charged with the combined presence of these two formidable figures. Shadows cling to the walls, twisting and curling as if alive, amplifying the weight of their intentions.

“I believe she’s on the brink of readiness,” the General asserts, his smirk a dark promise that hints at the depths of his plans. He scrutinizes the holographic feed, which displays her lying exhausted on the floor, a fragile figure amidst the turmoil of their machinations.

“I’m pleased to see the tests have proven successful,” Vontum replies, his voice low and resonant as he retreats to his central metal table, its surface gleaming ominously under the flickering lights. “What are the next steps?” His tone is one of eager anticipation, a readiness to dive deeper into the abyss they are creating.

The General’s smirk deepens as he regards the feed, his eyes gleaming with ruthless anticipation, the light reflecting the dark satisfaction brewing within him. “I think it’s time she learns what true energy is,” he declares, the words dripping with a sinister promise, setting the stage for what is to come. The very air seems to thrum with potential, an electric charge that hints at the chaos they are about to unleash upon the world.