What did the girl see in her final moments?
It wasn't like one of those convenient light novels, where a doomed protagonist summons a radiant spirit of purity and miracles to turn the tide of fate.
No. What appeared before Saikyō Aiko was nothing so merciful.
What she summoned was a god without morality, without humanity—driven by nothing but his own pleasure.
And what that god gave her was not salvation, but an endless, irredeemable abyss.
He was a mass of shifting darkness, a mad silhouette that writhed like living tar.
He stood roughly in the shape of a man, though thick tendrils pulsed and grew from his form like roots clawing through flesh.
That faint, suffocating sense of horror could drive any who looked upon him to madness.
And yet, from Aiko's torn throat came a rasping laugh.
"Heh… hah… if you're truly… an evil god," she whispered, "then… take everything. Take it all... and…"
Her lips twisted into a smile—blood and tears mingling.
"Kill them. Every last one.
Don't let a single one live!"
It was almost unthinkable—that such murderous intent could radiate from a girl on the brink of death.
But Taisu, the evil god, felt it completely: the purity and enormity of her hatred.
Aiko's trembling hand lifted, reaching for his shadow—but grasped only empty air.
Even for a god like Taisu, reality's veil could not be torn at will.
Her desperate act had not truly summoned him, only drawn forth his afterimage into this world.
And time was already working to drive him back.
Reality pushed against his presence with growing force.
But there—right before him—was a perfect vessel waiting to be claimed.
Without resistance, the shadow seeped through her parted lips.
Inside that dying body, the corruption began.
The Evil God remade what he had taken as his own, reshaping Aiko from within.
This would be his divine residence now.
And a god's dwelling must be spacious. Those filthy organs? Best sent off into the void.
In an instant, the inside of Aiko's body became hollow—then filled again with his shifting tendrils as they took the place of her organs.
To Aiko, it was agony beyond comprehension—her insides scooped out and replaced, piece by piece, as though carved hollow by a spoon.
She could not breathe. Blood loss should have ended her life—but the pain slammed her back into lucidity, her body seizing in a fetal curl.
Taisu, devoted to absolute pleasure, had high standards for his habitation—but he wasn't about to let his new host die mid-renovation.
His tendrils scoured her nerves, latching onto every sensory thread.
Then they released a strange neurotransmitter, hijacking her mind.
"Ugh… dizzy… my head's… floating away…"
Her crimson eyes grew hazy. The pain melted into lightness—like she were drifting on clouds, peaceful… detached.
And still, Taisu worked—gleeful in his craft.
Too much blood loss, he mused. Let my divine fluid take its place. My essence shall be the heart that pumps for her!
The digestive system? Irrelevant. My ichor will nourish her. I'll just install a small teleportation array in her throat—any food she eats will vanish straight into the void!
Naturally, my substance passes freely…
And her taste buds and olfactory cells—let's change those too. She will find my scent the sweetest in existence, my divine fluid the most exquisite feast...
Ah, and there—an extra chamber through her abdomen. My private sanctum… disguised as a digestive tract. Why not line it with nerves and taste receptors too, so she never forgets that I dwell within her?
Perfection. Utterly divine.
…
The violent trembling in Aiko's body slowly stilled.
Her knees pressed together; her trembling hands clutched her skirt.
Then she lifted herself up on weak arms—light, strong, almost weightless.
Except… she wasn't breathing.
"I… I'm dead? Am I… a zombie now?"
Everything felt strange inside—full, warm, heavy… yet oddly serene and comforting.
Almost pleasantly satisfying.
The sense of fullness was intoxicating—like she could face anything.
Then came the voice—from within her, yet echoing directly in her mind.
"Impossible. A zombie schoolgirl might have charm, but it's hardly my goal."
"You should feel honored, Saikyō Aiko."
"At this very moment, your body has become the temple of Taisu—the Eternal Evil God. Undying. Ageless. Deathless. My divine might pulses through you as my gift!"
Taisu's voice chuckled, echoing between thought and flesh.
His tendrils had fully fused with her spirit. Now, they shared a single consciousness—a single will.
If he willed it, Aiko could unleash her power in an instant.
A perfect fusion of god and girl, he thought gleefully.
A mech for my own divine pilotage. The legend begins—with me, the great Taisu, at the helm of a beautiful maiden!
Is… that what I've become? Aiko thought, dazed.
My body… the nest of a god?
Her shaking fingers touched her neck—the fatal wound that had killed her.
No blood. Instead, a white, viscous fluid clung there, stretching into silken threads.
It gleamed faintly, smelling impossibly sweet. More intoxicating than perfume.
Aiko understood—it was the god's essence.
Instinctively, like a cat cleaning itself, she licked her finger.
The wound stopped hurting.
Then, slowly—it began to close.
Suddenly, something wriggled in her throat.
A jet-black tendril slipped from between her lips, twitching playfully, as though greeting her.
"I am pleased with your offering," said the voice, rich and amused.
"From this day forward, devote everything to my pleasure."
BOOM!
The basement door exploded inward, splintering as several large cultists stormed inside—faces twisted with rage, voices foul with curses.
"Well, well… not behaving after all, are we? Looks like you'll need a proper lesson~"
"Hah! She dares set a fire? Forget being gentle—so long as she's breathing, we can do whatever we want."
"Come now, Aiko-chan. Your mother wouldn't want this. She'll join you soon, both of you serving the divine together!"
They advanced without hesitation, reaching to grab her hair—
—and Taisu was enraged.
They dare lay hands on what is mine?
I must have miscounted their ancestors, for none shall remain!
Darkness surged.
Though bound by the world's laws, weakened by reality's rejection, Taisu unleashed his second, forbidden ability—beyond mere fleshcraft.
He drew on the energy of their fused senses, their perfect union of ecstasy and pain, and ignited it.
His power erupted—
Transformation.
Black ichor flooded around Aiko, engulfing her completely.
The girl's slight frame vanished beneath the writhing tide, reformed into a monstrous colossus.
A body nearly three meters tall, sculpted from rolling muscle and burning shadow—like a demonic armor forged of liquid night.
For an instant, before she was fully consumed, Aiko's lips curved—not in terror, but in wild exhilaration.
A villain's transformation—spectacular, thrilling… divine.
Such spectacle, of course, delighted Taisu immensely.
But a heartbeat later, Aiko blushed crimson.
"Wait—did you say the transformation fuel was—!? NO! Not that!!"
Her protest cut off with a wet splorch as her mouth was sealed.
The girl was gone.
Standing in her place was a giant—three meters of snarling, radiant power.
And that giant was furious.
The cultists, swallowed by darkness, shouted in confusion.
"What the hell? I can't see—someone light it up!"
No one answered.
He turned—and froze.
Every man behind him stared, faces twisted with horror.
Because directly in front of him—
A massive, black hand slowly closed around his head.
A pause. A crunch.
A sound like a nut cracking—then nothing but pulp where his skull had been.
A single white eye burst free between the giant's fingers, rolling down in a river of red and white.
Then came the low, satisfied chuckle.
"Well now… his head pops just right."
The fire's dim glow flickered across the giant's monstrous form—rows of jagged teeth and eyes burning like magma.
Three meters tall, carved from shadow and muscle. Ebony blades jutted from his arms; his body pulsed with infernal energy.
Within him, a rhythm throbbed—like the pounding of blasphemous engines fueling the god's divine rage.
He towered like a primarch from some cosmic opera, a being of pure desecration.
And this was Taisu's masterpiece—his war form, born through Saikyō Aiko's body:
a god's symbiont, a monstrous hero—or perhaps a demonic rider.
The creature turned its fiery eyes toward the screaming men.
"Truly unfortunate," Taisu spoke through the giant's grin. "You see, I too have a fondness for beautiful girls. And to ensure this one remains blissfully devoted—"
He raised a hand wreathed in darkness, voice soft yet lethal.
"—I'll have to send you all ahead. Wait for us in hell."
Polite to the end, the giant stepped forward, with every intention of granting that promise.