The air in the temple was thick—hot, choking, pungent with sweat, cum, incense, and burning silk. Fires crackled in every corner. Smashed relics littered the floor. Holy hymns had been replaced by the wet, obscene chorus of broken priestesses and panting beastkin.
Allen stood with his hands behind his back, completely naked, cock still glistening with spit and priestess juices. His gaze swept over the wreckage like a king inspecting a conquered throne room.
Behind him, the stained-glass mural depicting the Five Superior Races had shattered. Only one face remained whole: the angel. Her golden gaze stared down, cracked through the eye, bleeding red light as if even the divine was weeping.
Rinni, naked except for a priestess's veil around her neck like a trophy, skipped up to him. "You know they're gonna send something after this, right?" she asked with a cheerful wiggle of her hips.
