Twenty years ago.
The rebel camp smelled like oil, iron, and sweat. Men trained shirtless under harsh lights. Inside a battered hangar-turned-canteen, Namo and Cori sat at a metal table, two brown bottles sweating between them. The buzzing of overhead lights matched the low hum of tension that never left the place.
Namo raised his bottle, his eyes tired but locked onto Cori.
"Today's special. One year since we joined the rebellion."
Cori let out a dry chuckle and leaned back in his chair. "You're seriously counting? We're at war, Namo. I'm not marking anniversaries."
"They took everything from us," Namo said, voice low. "It's not just a date. It's a reminder. A year of this filth. A year since they flipped the world upside down and made men into toys."
He took a long drink, wiped his mouth on his sleeve.
"You ever think we're wasting our time?" Cori asked, staring at the bottle in his hand. "They're too strong. They've got power we don't even understand."
Namo's jaw clenched. "I think about it every damn night. But that just makes me want to fight harder."
Cori nodded slowly. "Good."
A pause.
Then Namo's voice changed. Softer, darker.
"Orthus is the worst of them. She's not just strong — she's sick. She tried to lure me in once. Tried to use her... charm. But it's worse than that. She ruined my family. Turned my father into her personal servant. Broke my mother until she served her too. Made them... not who they were."
He looked down.
"She made them betray me with a smile."
Cori didn't laugh. He watched his friend carefully.
"You're not weak, Namo. You're just not ready yet. But that can change."
Namo narrowed his eyes. "How?"
Cori leaned forward.
"There's a bottle in the Realm of the Gods. Behind Ortus' throne. A glowing vial. Word is, it holds divine strength. Temporary maybe, but enough to turn the tide. I know where it is."
Namo didn't hesitate.
"Then we're going. But I lead. You follow."
Cori smirked. "Deal."
Namo drank the rest of his beer and slammed the bottle down.
"Let's become monsters."
Six months earlier.
Ortus lounged on her oversized throne, legs spread across velvet cushions. Her skin shimmered — smooth, violet, glowing with slow pulses of pink and purple magic. Long ears twitched slightly at every sound. Her hair was wild and thick, spilling like smoke over her shoulders.
Her chest was bare, but cloaked in ethereal energy that shifted and swirled, never fully revealing. She wore tight violet leather pants that clung to her every move. Her fangs peeked through every smile. She radiated raw, addictive dominance.
Aron and Bertha knelt before her, eyes down, bodies trembling.
"My queen," Aron began, voice cracking. "We came to beg. Our son... Namo... he's joined the rebellion. We aren't part of that. We support your rule. We only want to protect him."
Ortus said nothing.
She tilted her head, scanned them.
Then she smirked.
"I see you," she said. "Aron — thirty times. Bertha — forty-five. Good numbers. I like when people fuck. Shows spirit."
She stood and moved down the steps of her throne with unhurried grace, each footstep deliberate. She walked to Bertha first.
"You get one request," she said, voice purring. "Use it well."
Bertha's lips quivered. "We want our son safe. That's all."
Ortus smiled wider.
"You'll both be mine. That's the price. You'll feed my hunger until you break. And I'll let your son visit once a month. Fair?"
Aron panicked. "Please, no— We're loyal! We admire what the goddesses have done! Don't take us from him!"
Ortus looked bored.
"You asked."
She grabbed his chin, then bit.
He screamed.
Blood trickled down his collar as she ripped his shirt open and pressed her lips to his chest.
"You smell like Retro. I love it. Obey me."
His eyes turned empty.
"Yes, my goddess," he whispered.
Bertha screamed and turned to flee, but Ortus was in front of her instantly, teleporting without a sound.
"You? You're gorgeous," Ortus said. "Sharp face. Stubborn spirit. Milf material. I like that."
"Please—!"
Ortus grabbed her face and kissed her. Deep. Long. Slow.
When she pulled away, Bertha was panting, pupils shaped like hearts.
"Do anything you want," she whispered.
Ortus licked her lips.
"I will."
6 months later.
Midnight. Silent sky. Cold air.
Namo and Cori hovered just above the Realm of the Gods. The landscape was cracked crystal and floating stone. Ortus' throne glowed below.
"She's not there," Cori whispered. "Now's our chance."
A low moan echoed from a nearby tent.
"She's distracted," Cori added. "Go."
Namo descended, quiet as air. He slipped behind the throne, grabbed the glowing vial, and rushed back up.
"This it?" he asked.
Cori nodded. "That's the one. Quick."
Namo uncorked the bottle and drank half. The liquid burned like acid down his throat. He passed it to Cori, who chugged the rest.
But as Cori lowered the empty bottle, it slipped from his fingers.
Shattered.
The moaning stopped.
Ortus appeared.
Floating. Naked. Glowing. Smiling.
"Well, look at you," she said. "Two rebels drinking divine juice without permission. How naughty."
She floated closer.
"But there's a catch. That potion? It'll kill you in twenty-one years. Or sooner. Your hearts will burst. No antidote. No mercy."
Cori shouted. "Shut up, you freak! We're strong now. We'll kill you!"
He fired a blast of energy.
It hit her torso.
She didn't flinch.
"Oh... that tickled."
She looked at them. Something in her gaze pierced through.
"Namo. Sex: once. Cori. Sex: five times. Pathetic."
She snapped her fingers.
Their clothes vanished.
Both froze. Hormones surged.
"You're now a hundred times hornier than usual," Ortus said. "I made it easier for you to beg."
Cori dropped to his knees, panting.
Namo gritted his teeth. "No… You won't win."
He lunged, hand glowing.
Ortus grabbed him by the hair and slammed him down.
"Cute."
She bit his neck. Then Cori's.
Both groaned in pain and collapsed.
Ortus stood over them. "Let's enjoy this before you die."
Namo twitched. Reached out.
"Behind you."
She turned.
A clone of Namo kicked her in the back.
She stumbled, surprised.
"What the—"
Namo stared at his copy. "That elixir… it gave me clones."
Ortus growled.
"You little insect."
She ripped open the nearby tent and dragged out Bertha and Aron, naked, chained, broken.
"No!" Namo screamed. "Let them go!"
She grinned.
"You're not in charge."
Her claws sliced both their throats in one fluid motion.
They dropped.
Namo froze, eyes wide.
"You die now."
She fired a beam of pink fire.
Namo barely raised a shield. It cracked on impact. His aura flared.
He grabbed Cori and teleported.
They landed in a burnt forest. Cori unconscious. Namo shaking.
Ortus stood alone in her realm.
"I won't chase you," she said quietly. "But next time, I'll break you."
She blew a kiss and vanished.
Back in the real world.
The battlefield shook. Lava poured from the cracked earth. Flames licked the sky.
Kuina stood still. Her blade pulsed.
"It's over, Namo. One look, and you're dust."
Molly tried to stand, still weak. Inside the temple, Clara and Mira were locked in a healing trance, a sacred act of passion.
Namo laughed wildly.
"You'll all die! And Ortus, you're next!"
Far away, Ortus watched the chaos from a floating crystal throne.
She smirked.
"Girls… he's yours."
To be continued.