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COMMENTS:
Jack[archiveofourown]: I need more of shanika Jackson, I fell in love with her.
Avip: "Glad you liked her. There's a chance she may return."
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[Image]
[Marcus Carvalho]
I sit on the workshop bench, my eyes fixed on Edith. She moves with a natural grace, even in her messy workspace scattered with tools and paper. Her long ears twitch slightly as she speaks, a clear sign that she's in her element.
"This is the sodium-ion battery project," she says, pointing to the blueprints on her laptop screen. But I can barely make sense of them. "Sodium is cheaper and more abundant than lithium, and it holds enormous potential for energy storage."
Her eyes shine with passion as she delves into the technical details. I listen closely, trying to absorb every word, even if most of the scientific jargon flies over my head. It doesn't matter, her enthusiasm is contagious, and she looks so irresistibly cute like that.
"The challenge now is efficiency," she continues, setting the prototype back on the bench. "We need to improve energy density and durability across multiple charge cycles. But as you can see from this chart, we're on the right track."
She picks up a stack of papers, leafing through graphs and tables. Her small, agile hands handle the sheets with precision.
"These are the results of the latest tests," she explains, pointing to a graph full of colorful lines. "We're seeing a significant improvement in charge stability."
I open my mouth to praise Edith, but the door bursts open abruptly, cutting me off.
BAM!
An anthro cheetah strides into the workshop, the click of her polished heels sharp against the floor. She wears a tailored black business suit that hugs her athletic, curvy frame, the red tie at her collar adding a slash of bold color. Her sleek spotted fur and lithe build radiate both speed and power, the aura of a predator who belongs in charge. Her golden feline eyes sweep the room with piercing precision before locking firmly on Edith.
[Image]
"Nivia!" she snaps, her voice cutting like a cold blade. "Care to explain why your little toy battery still hasn't delivered results? This is your third extension already, and I'm running out of patience with your sorry excuses."
Edith visibly shrinks, her ears fall back, a sign of submission. The cheetah advances, her movements swift and imposing, like those of a predator.
"Do you have any idea how much time and money we've already sunk into this?" she presses, her tail lashing like a whip behind her. "And yet you still have nothing concrete to show, or at least nothing worth the investment. Honestly, I'm starting to think you're nothing but dead weight, wasting my resources and precious time."
"I... I think we're making progress, ma'am. The latest tests showed a significant improvement in charge stability-." Edith tries to respond.
The cheetah snorts, cutting her, dismissing Edith's words with a wave of her hand.
"You actually think this counts as progress?" she scoffs, venom dripping from every word. "I don't want your pathetic excuses, I want results. Stop wasting my time with half-baked failures and start proving you're worth the salary I'm wasting on you."
She's so focused on humiliating Edith that she doesn't even notice my presence. Feeling outraged by the way she treats Edith I take a step forward, interposing between them.
"Hey, wait just a minute," I say, my voice firm.
The cheetah finally notices my presence, her eyes soften as she straightens her posture, changing from aggressive to formal and courteous.
"I must apologize for my earlier abrasiveness," she says, her tone melting into a soft, velvety purr. A faint smile curves her lips as her eyes linger with deliberate grace. "I wasn't aware that a gentleman graced this room," she murmurs, her voice silky, her gaze lingering just a fraction longer than necessary.
I blink, caught off guard by the sudden shift in demeanor. The anthro, who moments ago seemed poised to shred Edith to pieces, now exudes an aura of refined elegance and subtle seduction. She leans in with a graceful bow, taking my hand with deliberate precision. Her lips press lightly against my skin in a soft, fleeting kiss, while her golden feline eyes lock onto mine with an intensity that leaves me both disoriented and unnervingly aware of her presence.
"Riiiight," I mutter, still feeling unsettled by how men are treated in this world.
She straightens up, maintaining my gaze.
"Kamuela Kibassa, head of the Research and Development department," she introduces herself, her voice smooth and deliberate, carrying both authority and allure. Her eyes linger just a moment longer than necessary. "And with whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?"
"Marcus," I reply, frowning. "Marcus Carvalho."
Kamuela smiles, a smile that reveals sharp teeth, but somehow still charming.
"Marcus Carvalho," she repeats, letting the name roll off her tongue with deliberate care. "An interesting name… and may I ask, where does the gentleman come from?"
"Brazil." I answer, still stunned by the predator's behavior.
"Oooh," she coos, letting her tongue trace her lips as a soft purr rolls from her throat. "I do love Latinos… muy caliente," she adds, her eyes glinting with playful heat.
Before I can snap at her about Portuguese and Spanish being two different languages, Gorete lets out a deliberate, loud cough, slicing through the tension. Kamuela casts me one last lingering, hungry glance before pivoting back to Edith, her posture snapping into rigid professionalism once more.
"Nivia, I'm slashing your research funding by forty-seven percent," she announces, her voice icy. "I hope this will finally push you to work with the efficiency you've failed to show."
Edith pales, her ears fall back in despair.
"B-but with this cut, the research will be impossible," the little rabbit stutters, her voice trembling.
Kamuela takes a step forward, her eyes narrowing into a veiled threat.
"Maybe it's better if I just cut everything and toss both of you out," she hisses, her voice a venomous whisper. "Honestly, turning this worthless excuse of a project into a tax write-off might be the only way to salvage something from your pathetic efforts."
Edith and Gorete gasp, panic evident on their faces. Gorete, normally so outspoken, seems to shrink, her eyes wide with fear.
"Hold it right there!" I bark, stepping forward and forcing all three to lock eyes with me.
I won't let this overgrown rule 63 cheetos mascot lay a paw on my bunny. I take a step forward, chest out, planting myself squarely between Kamuela and the two of them. My eyes lock on them, daring anyone to make a move.
"When's the next Quarterly Report closing?" I growl cutting through the room.
Kamuela raises an eyebrow, surprised by my intervention, but maintaining her professional demeanor she replies.
"In two weeks," she replies, her eyes locked on mine, sharp and hungry, as if amused by the prospect of new prey.
"So here's the deal," I say, thinking fast. "In two weeks, Edith will deliver the prototype. You'll make a public statement giving all the credit and hand over the bonus that 'fat‑cat' white collars like you rake in on successful projects to Edith and Gorete. No excuses.""
Edith and Gorete stare at me, shock and gratitude mixed in their eyes. Kamuela, on the other hand, hesitates. Her eyes narrow as she considers my proposal.
"And if they don't succeed?" she asks, a calculated smile playing on her lips.
"If they don't succeed," I say, holding her gaze without flinching, "you handle it however you see fit. And I'll throw in a date with me."
Kamuela smirks predatorily, sending shivers down my spine.
"I accept," the feline anthro says, extending her hand, her voice dripping with condescension. "But only because I know just how utterly hopeless it is for you to crank out a viable prototype in two measly weeks."
I shake her hand, sealing the agreement.
Edith and Gorete exchange nervous glances, but there's a new determination in their eyes. Kamuela, satisfied, turns to leave, but not before casting one last look in my direction, a look that promises much more than a simple date.
"Hope you're as resilient as you are mouthy, Papito," she purrs, a dangerous chuckle slipping past her lips before she finally turns and leaves.
A vein throbbed at my temple as I pressed my jaw shut, forcing myself to resist the urge to grab her by the throat and give her a language lesson. As the door closes behind her, Edith and Gorete let out sighs of relief. Still trembling, the rabbit turns to me with her mouth agape.
"Marcus… how could you do something so irresponsible?" Her voice trembles, heavy with fear.
Before I can answer, the anthro raccoon Gorete places a firm hand on Edith's shoulder, calming her.
"Calm down, boss," the older anthro murmurs, her voice surprisingly soft. "What your man did might be risky, irresponsible and incredibly stupid, but we didn't stand a chance from the start."
Understanding her colleague, Edith closes her eyes and draws a deep breath. When she opens them, a quiet melancholy lingers in her gaze.
"You're right, Gorete," the rabbit says, her voice calmer. "Marcus, I… I appreciate the intervention. Kamuela came here clearly intending to shut down the project, but thanks to you, we've got two weeks." Edith exhales, a note of defeat in her breath. "It's unlikely, but at least I can try something."
Gorete nods, a sad smile on her lips.
"That's right, Nivia," the older anthro affirms. "Thanks to you, those two weeks of salary will help cover some bills. My husband and children won't go hungry… at least for now."
Surprised by both of their defeatist declarations, I question them.
"What are you talking about?" I ask, crossing my arms. "There's no reason to be depressed."
Both anthros stare at me, blinking in confusion.
"You will finish this project, and it will be spectacular," I say with a mad grin on my face. "We're going to make it loud and flashy. To make that bitch eat her words and know damn well who ran her into the ground."
Edith frowns, confusion evident on her face.
"How?" She asks, her voice barely a whisper.
I smile, a plan already forming in my mind.
"If my suspicions are correct," I say, "I just need to make a call, so I can 'buff' you guys."
"You're going to use your magic on us?" She asks, confused.
"Yes." Marcus replies. "But I can't use my mana directly on you for this kind of effect; messing with a living soul isn't easy."
Edith and Gorete exchange confused glances, but there's a spark of hope in their eyes.
"And who are you calling?" Edith asks, her voice full of doubt.
Without answering the bunny, I pull my cell phone from my pocket.
"Trust me," I say, scrolling through my contact list.
I find the number I'm looking for and press the call button. The phone rings a few times before being answered.
"Marcus?" The female voice on the other end of the line sounds surprised, but also pleased.
"Maestra," I say, a smile spreading across my face. "I need a favor."
"Iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiih." I pull the phone away from my ear due to the drow's piercing scream of joy on the other end of the call.
[Edith Nivea]
I was already worried when Marcus said he'd ask Maestra for help.
But now, accompanying the human as I descend the dimly lit stone stairs into the underground, with Gorete and Carlie beside me, I admit I'm far from worried... I'm terrified.
We walk in silence for a few minutes, each step echoing, amplifying the emptiness. The only flickering light is in Carlie's possession, a strange silver lantern.
"How much longer?" Carlie asks, carrying the strange lantern.
"A few minutes." Marcus informs us. "Maestra created this underground location so that the stones would help isolate this world's scarce mana in one place without it escaping."
"If the mana escapes…" Carlie begins, curious. "Can that cause problems?"
"Yes." Marcus replies, walking ahead. "But a safe bet is that she made this 'underground temple' sealed to avoid any leakage to maximize her mana pool, with no waste." Marcus states in a serious tone. "I doubt she considered the danger she could cause to others with wild mana."
Walking, I remember how Marcus assured me that, despite seeming crazy, trusting Maestra is a lesser risk for his plan. Without her help, completing the project on time would be too dangerous.
When we were in my workshop, Marcus said he had no problem supporting me with his fortune, but he understands that this project is my dream, my ambition. For me, finishing this battery is what defeating Demon Lord Lilium was for him.
I'm pulled from my thoughts when Gorete stumbles slightly, her hand grabbing my shoulder to steady herself. Her eyes meet mine, and I see in them a reflection of my own exhaustion, but also renewed determination.
"Do you really think this will work, Nivia?" My coworker whispers, wanting to avoid Marcus's ears. "Your magic boy already proved right then and there that he's truly magic, but will he be able to help us?"
"I know he will…" I reply, my voice firmer than I feel. "Marcus believes he can, and I... I believe in him."
"This man of yours is crazy, but he has a good heart." Gorete nods, sighing tiredly. "I just hope this Maestra isn't as dangerous as I've heard."
"She's certainly worse than you can imagine," I admit, remembering the attack on Carlie's home. "But Marcus promised we'd be safe, and that's enough for me."
As we descend further and further, the air gets colder and more humid with each step.
After what seemed like an eternity descending the steps, we finally arrived at a large underground cavern. The floor, ceiling, and walls are smooth, too perfect to be natural. The kind of work that would take months to do underground, with the most advanced equipment and an extremely competent team.
"Fuuuuuuuck," Gorete murmurs, eyes wide as she takes in the surroundings. "Was this made with magic?"
"Yes," Marcus confirms, his gaze sweeping the cavern. "The Maestra used magic to create this place. But it's not just the craftsmanship that's impressive. These stones are reinforced with enchantments, made impervious to prevent any mana leakage."
Slow claps draw the group's attention to a large stone altar on the other side of the cavern, standing there is a figure I thought was merely a figment of fantasy.
"A dark elf." I murmur, astonished.
She is... magnificent. Her skin, a purple so deep it almost vanishes into the shadows, contrasts sharply with her long, silky white hair that flows to her waist. Her eyes, an intense yellow, catch the dim light like molten gold, commanding attention. The red dress, vivid as fresh blood, drapes over her form with bold confidence, hinting at strength and presence more than mere allure.
[Image]
She's unlike anything I've ever seen. Not just because she lacks fur or other obvious animalistic traits, it's her lethal elegance, the kind that belongs in fairy tales and witch stories. A dark elf, a creature of legends and nightmares, and yet here she is, before me, as real as the air I breathe.
"Welcome, my esteemed guests." Her voice echoes through the cavern, soft and melodic, but with an underlying tone of command that makes my hairs stand on end. "I do hope your journey was… agreeable."
With an annoyed look, Marcus steps forward and bows to the elf.
"Thank you for receiving us, honorable hostess," Marcus says, his body taut with unease. "I come, despite my recklessness and brash demeanor, to request your… invaluable assistance."
The elf lets out an arrogant chuckle with the back of a hand to her chin.
Marcus had said he'd have to participate in the Maestra's little play to gain access to this place... I just didn't imagine it would literally be a 'drama play'.
The Maestra continues, her voice filling the cavern, her words laden with an intensity similar to a theater actress performing a monologue.
"Poor, pitiful souls… wretches abandoned to the cruel whims of fate, daring to come to me in their hour of need," she intones, every word dripping with theatrical flair. "And I… the great, the radiant, the ever-humble and magnanimous Maestra… shall deign to grant your… requests."
She pauses dramatically again, her golden eyes shining with a mixture of amusement and superiority.
Marcus sighs, already exhausted, as if the Maestra's performance is draining his strength. He straightens up, shoulders slumped, and looks at her with a mixture of gratitude and exhaustion.
"I am grateful to you, Maestra." He says, his voice hoarse. "And despite being unworthy of your grace, for I am a poor fool who didn't even bother to learn your true name, I am fortunate to know a being as regal as you."
The Maestra laughs, a crystalline sound echoing through the cavern walls.
"Aaah, but you are delightfully insolent, Marcus," she purrs, tilting her head with theatrical grace. "So delightfully and refreshing in a childish way." She lets the pause linger, savoring it. "But fear not the burdens of etiquette. I am here to assist, as only I can."
She approaches, her steps light and graceful, as if floating.
"You require neutral mana for your little endeavor, do you not? How fortunate, for I have mana to spare." She extends her hand, fingers long and elegant, nails gleaming a wicked shade of red. "But remember, Marcus… nothing comes without a price."
Marcus nods, his eyes fixed on hers.
"What do you want in return?" The human asks in a short dry tone.
The Maestra smiles, her lips curving into a smile that doesn't reach her eyes.
"Ah, Marcus… always so brash and dreadfully direct," she sighs, draping the phrase in silken mockery. "I ask for something simple in return." She pauses, head tilted, eyes gleaming. "Your loyalty, pledged it to me."
Marcus frowns, clearly surprised, but quickly recomposes himself, glaring furiously at the Maestra before shouting:
"Hell no!"
…
The abrupt response breaks the dramatic mood, making the Maestra adopt the posture of a bratty child.
"Come on, Marcus!" She stomps her foot on the ground, her golden eyes gleaming with childlike indignation. "You promised you'd be nice, and do the play with me!"
Furious, Marcus approaches, his finger pointed like a dagger at the elf.
"I also made it clear I wouldn't become your slave. I won't be your pet, nor your obedient servant."
The Maestra turns her face, trying to conceal her expression, but her uncertain, stammering tone makes it clear that the human has caught her.
"I w-wasnt even tr-trying to do such a thing." Her voice is sweet, but her eyes gleam with veiled malice.
Marcus shouts, his voice echoing through the cavern, laden with a frustration that borders on despair.
"You're the worst liar of all the dark elves I've ever met!" His words cut through the air, sharp as blades. "If you try tricking me again, I swear I'll bend you over my knee and spank your purple butt!"
The Maestra trembles, her golden eyes gleaming with a mixture of fear and excitement. She purrs, a hesitant sound that makes my stomach churn. Beside me, Carlie grimaces in disgust, her body tense as if ready to fight.
"That's... disturbing," Carlie murmurs, her voice low but laden with disdain.
Gorete, on the other hand, lets out a loud, uninhibited laugh.
"Oh, that's hilarious!" She says, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Can I go after the purple elf?"
I look at Gorete, incredulous.
"What do you mean, you want to be next?" I ask, my voice filled with disbelief. "Aren't you married?"
"What can I say?" Gorete shrugs, a mischievous smile spreading across her face."
I love my husband, but this Marcus guy is feisty."
I roll my eyes, but I can't help but feel a pang of relief. At least someone is having fun with this madness.
Marcus, still furious, turns to the Maestra, his green eyes glowing with determination.
"Enough games, Maestra. We need this mana, and in return I'll do you a favor, one that won't last more than a day."
The Maestra crosses her arms, sulking, clearly irritated that her plan was ruined. Her golden eyes gleam with a mixture of frustration and resignation.
"Alright, Marcus. You win this time." She says, her voice laden with palpable reluctance. "But know that this doesn't end here. I'll collect on this favor when you least expect it."
"I know. And I'll be ready when you need me."
The Maestra sighs, her eyes softening slightly.
"Very well. Let's begin."
She turns, walking towards a large stone table in the center of the cavern. On the table, there's an intricate set of runes carved into the surface, glowing with a soft, pulsating light.
"These runes will channel neutral mana directly into your ritual, Marcus." The Maestra explains, her voice taking on a more professional tone. "But you'll need to conjure magic by yourself to activate the runes."
Marcus nods, approaching the table. He extends his hands, his fingers hovering over the runes.
"Let's get this show on the road."
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E ai gurizada…
[#] I hope you enjoyed this chapter, if you are interested, my Ko-Fi[avipbr] subscriber has access up to 5 chapters ahead:
Chapter 20 - Nerd Fest
Chapter 21 - Roll out
Chapter 22 - Challenge Accepted
Chapter 23 - To drunk for magic
Chapter 24 - Frist!
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