The lights in IDP Central's main briefing lounge were dimmed to a soft amber glow, the kind that made even infinite paperwork look almost cozy. Commissioner Zane "Z" Vortex leaned back in his oversized chair, boots kicked up on the holographic table, a half-finished energy drink dangling from his fingers. His silver hair was tousled from running his hands through it too many times, and the faint glow of rune-scars across his chest peeked out from beneath his open tactical jacket. The visions from Realm 666 still lingered like bad aftertaste—Primordial chains, a singularity birth, the cosmic punchline that was apparently his entire existence.
"Sealed for the greater joke," he muttered, echoing Grimwald's last words. "Real original, universe. Ten out of ten for comedy."
The rest of the team was scattered around the room in various states of post-mission relaxation. Reyes was sharpening a combat knife with mechanical precision, her cyber-arm whirring softly. Jax was bench-pressing a reinforced crate while practicing new puns under his breath. Sparks tapped away at three floating holo-screens at once, Lena cleaned her phase-rifle like it was therapy, and the newest temp analyst—a nervous intern named Miko—kept sneaking glances at Z like he might explode into starstuff any second.
A priority chime sliced through the calm. Red alert glyphs spun across every screen.
REALM 777 – SHADOW VEIL DOMINION
Threat: Mass unauthorized summoning of Earth sentients (Class S scale).
Perpetrator: Lord Nyxar the Veilweaver, self-proclaimed Eternal Host.
Method: Pleasure-harvest ritual disguised as "exclusive interdimensional banquet."
Goal: Amass emotional/desire energy to fracture a specific primordial seal signature matching IDP Commissioner Z Vortex.
Estimated victims currently trapped: 2,847 and rising.
Z sat up so fast his boots slammed the floor. "Well. That escalated quickly."
Reyes whistled low. "He's targeting you specifically?"
"Apparently my sealed power has a fan club." Z's grin was sharp. "Team, gear up. We're crashing the world's most expensive shadow orgy before it turns into a seal-breaking apocalypse."
Sparks already had the portal coordinates locked. "Signature's laced with void-silk and lust-essence. Nasty combo. The veil around the palace is permeable to desire but repels authority. We'll need to… blend in."
Jax flexed. "Why did the shadow lord throw a party?"
"Don't," Reyes warned.
"Because he wanted to veil everyone in!"
Z laughed despite himself. "Keep that energy, big guy. We're gonna need it."
The jump platform flared to life—swirling violet and crimson this time, thick with the scent of incense and distant moans. The team stepped through.
Realm 777 unfolded like a fever dream wrapped in black silk.
They materialized inside the outer gardens of Nyxar's Palace of Eternal Veils: endless rolling lawns of midnight grass that shimmered like liquid obsidian, marble statues locked in passionate embraces, floating lanterns that cast everything in sultry rose-gold light. In the distance rose the palace itself—a towering structure of shadow-crystal and velvet drapes, music pulsing from within like a living heartbeat.
Everywhere, summoned Earthlings moved in a dreamy haze. College students, influencers, bored office workers—most in whatever they'd been wearing when yanked (pajamas, gym clothes, club outfits)—now draped in semi-transparent shadow-silk robes that clung like liquid night. They laughed, danced, kissed, touched, lost in the spell. The air itself tasted sweet and heavy, like expensive wine and sin.
Z's system pinged immediately, louder than usual.
Threat level: High + Personal.
Ability detected: Veil of Endless Desire, Emotion-Harvest Weave, Seal-Fracture Resonance.
Seals at 82% integrity. Resonance detected—primordial echo attempting forced micro-unlock.
Warning: Prolonged exposure may accelerate personal seal degradation.
A new flash hit him: ancient beings in starlit robes, laughing as they wrapped chains around a newborn singularity. "Let the multiverse stay entertaining," one chuckled. "If he wakes fully, the game ends." Z blinked it away, jaw tight.
"Focus," he told himself. "Crash party first, existential crisis later."
They moved like ghosts through the gardens. A pair of summoned co-eds noticed them—twins in matching silk slips, eyes glassy with pleasure.
"Heyyy," one purred, reaching for Z. "New guests? The Host will love you."
Z gently deflected her hand, flashing his badge. "IDP. Party's over, ladies. Go find the exit portal—we'll cover you."
The twins blinked, spell cracking slightly. "Wait… cops?"
"Multiversal ones. Trust me, you don't want to be here when the tab comes due."
Reyes and Jax started guiding small groups toward a hidden extraction point Sparks was carving. Lena took high ground on a floating balcony, rifle ready.
Z pressed deeper alone, drawn by the strongest resonance—the central banquet hall.
He stepped through towering velvet curtains into pure decadence.
Hundreds of summoned guests lounged on silk cushions and floating platforms. Shadow-servants (ethereal beings with no faces) served glowing drinks that made eyes sparkle and inhibitions vanish. At the far end, on a throne of living shadow, sat Lord Nyxar.
He was beautiful in the way venomous things are—tall, lithe, skin like polished obsidian, long hair of pure liquid night cascading to his waist. Golden eyes glowed with hunger. He wore only loose silk trousers and an open robe of shifting darkness, chest bare and marked with glowing runes that pulsed in time with the harvested energy in the room.
Around him, a dozen of the most striking summoned guests attended personally—kneeling, feeding him fruit, kissing his hands, lost in bliss.
Nyxar's eyes locked onto Z the moment he entered.
"Ahhh," the Veilweaver purred, voice like velvet wrapped around a blade. "The guest of honor arrives. Commissioner Vortex. Or should I say… the Sealed Jester himself?"
The entire hall quieted. Every head turned.
Z strolled forward like he owned the place, hands in pockets. "Nice setup. Very 'billionaire villain tries too hard.' You know the rules—no poaching Earthlings for your personal harem buffet."
Nyxar laughed, low and rich. "Rules? From the being who was created to break them all? The Primordials sealed you because your power would end every game, every story, every delicious conflict. I merely wish to… taste what they feared."
He snapped his fingers. The air thickened. Every summoned guest in the hall suddenly glowed brighter, feeding a massive ritual circle carved into the floor beneath the throne—runes that looked disturbingly like the chains from Z's visions.
Z felt the pull instantly. One of his inner seals thrummed, threatening to crack open like an eggshell.
Seal integrity dropping. Forced resonance detected.
"Not today, pretty boy." Z raised his hand. "Stop. Hands up—tentacles, shadows, whatever you're packing. This is an IDP raid. You're under arrest for mass non-consensual translocation, emotional vampirism, and really tacky interior design."
Nyxar rose, robe flaring dramatically. "Arrest me? With what power, little sealed god?"
He unleashed the full Veil of Endless Desire.
The room exploded into raw sensation. Waves of pure lust, joy, despair, ecstasy—every emotion harvested from thousands of trapped souls—crashed toward Z like a tidal wave meant to drown him in pleasure-pain and shatter the remaining seals.
Z's system screamed.
Copying Veil of Endless Desire… adapting… enhancing with comedic immunity matrix.
He planted his feet. The wave hit—and reversed.
Instead of overwhelming ecstasy, it became weaponized absurdity.
Every guest in the hall suddenly snapped out of the spell, blinking in confusion. Then the reversed veil hit them with pure, ridiculous comedy.
One muscular guy in a torn hoodie started laughing uncontrollably. "Dude… I was about to bang a shadow lord and now I just want to tell dad jokes!"
A stunning influencer in silk gasped, then snorted. "This is the worst acid trip ever—why am I craving pineapple on pizza?!"
The entire banquet dissolved into helpless giggles, people rolling on cushions, clutching their sides, tears of laughter streaming down faces.
Nyxar staggered, golden eyes wide. "Impossible!"
Z sauntered forward, red-tape energy whip forming in his hand—now laced with copied shadow-silk that shimmered with mocking sparkles.
"Why did the shadow lord go to therapy?" Z called out cheerfully.
Nyxar snarled and hurled a spear of pure void.
Z caught it, spun it, and tossed it back as a pool noodle. "Because he had too many attachment issues!"
The reversed veil slammed into Nyxar full force. The ancient being suddenly found himself wearing a ridiculous party hat made of his own shadows, his perfect hair frizzing into an afro, and his voice coming out in a high-pitched squeak every time he tried to monologue.
"Cease this indignity—squeak—I am eternal—squeak!"
The trapped guests howled with laughter.
Z cracked the whip. Shadow-silk bindings—now bright pink and covered in cartoon hearts—wrapped around Nyxar, pinning him to his own throne.
"Game over, Veil-boy. You tried to crack my seals? Cute. I crack jokes. Much more effective."
Nyxar thrashed, power draining rapidly as the harvested energy backlashed. "You… you don't understand! The Primordials fear you waking! If the seals break fully, the multiverse loses all drama, all stories, all—"
"All fun?" Z leaned in close, grin wicked. "Buddy, I am the fun. Sealed or not. Now sit tight for processing. Tribunal's gonna love this one."
Sparks' extraction portals flared open across the hall. Grateful, laughing victims streamed through, many blowing kisses or high-fiving the team on the way out.
Reyes cuffed Nyxar personally. "You're going away for a long, boring time. No more parties."
As the palace began to dissolve without its master's power, a figure stepped from the shadows near the throne—a tall, athletic woman in torn shadow-silk that barely qualified as clothing. Short black hair, fierce amber eyes, katana strapped to her back. She'd clearly been fighting from inside.
She looked Z up and down, then smirked. "You just humiliated an immortal lust god with dad jokes. That was the hottest thing I've seen in three dimensions."
Z's grin widened. "Name?"
"Kaede. Freelance shadow-slayer. Been trapped here three weeks trying to free everyone solo."
"Solo's overrated." He offered his hand. "Ride back with us?"
She took it, grip firm. "Only if the ride includes a private debrief."
The team exchanged knowing glances. Jax gave a thumbs-up. Reyes rolled her eyes but smiled.
Later, aboard the jump-ship in transit, the lights in Z's private quarters were low and red.
Kaede moved like liquid shadow herself—fast, precise, hungry. She pushed Z against the wall, mouth claiming his with fierce demand, hands already working open his jacket.
"No strings," she breathed between kisses. "I disappear back to my realm after this."
"Perfect," Z murmured, hands sliding under the remains of her silk. "I only do perfect."
What followed was raw, playful, and intense. Laughter mixed with gasps as they explored each other—her katana leaning forgotten against the wall, his whip coiled on the floor like a satisfied snake. She rode him with the same ferocity she'd fought with, nails digging into the glowing rune-scars on his chest. Every time a new seal twinge hit him from the earlier resonance, she kissed it away, turning potential pain into sparks of pleasure.
Afterward they lay tangled in sheets that smelled of ozone and night-blooming flowers. Kaede traced one of his scars with a fingertip.
"Those visions you had during the fight… you're really that strong?"
Z stared at the ceiling. "Apparently. Sealed so the multiverse stays interesting. If I go full power, maybe everything becomes too easy. Too… boring."
She laughed softly. "Then keep the seals. The world needs more men who can make an immortal cry from bad puns."
Z grinned and pulled her closer for one last slow kiss.
The ship docked at Central twenty minutes later.
Kaede dressed quickly, gave him a final searing kiss at the portal, and stepped back to her realm with a wink. "If another shadow asshole shows up, call me. I owe you."
"Deal."
Back in the briefing room, the team wrapped the report.
"Two thousand eight hundred victims returned. One ancient lust god in custody. Zero seal breaches." Reyes checked off the last point.
Sparks added, "But… the resonance left a trace. Whatever Nyxar was trying to crack—it's weaker now. More visions incoming, boss."
Z nodded, eyes distant for a moment. Then he clapped his hands.
"Next alert's already pinging. Something about a floating casino realm running rigged hero lotteries. Who's up for some interdimensional blackjack?"
Hands shot up. Jax started another pun.
Z laughed, the sound bright and unstoppable.
The seals might be cracking, the Primordials might be watching, but the patrol rolled on—one hilarious, horny, heroic bust at a time.
And somewhere in the void, ancient beings stirred, wondering if their greatest joke was about to laugh last.