Kael opened his eyes to the smell of sanctified ink and ozone. He was three inches tall, wings still wet with embryonic dew, halo flickering like a faulty fluorescent bulb. A rubber stamp the size of a skyscraper descended with bureaucratic inevitability.
THUD.
The impact hurled him across Form 47-B: Application for Soul Reallocation. Red ink bled across the page: APPROVED – FALLEN STATUS PENDING.
Floor 7: Celestial Bureaucracy, Department of Forbidden Affections. An endless city of filing cabinets stacked into stratosphere, clouds replaced by fluttering memos. Angels in pinstripe robes hurried along paper bridges, wings clipped for aerodynamic efficiency. Somewhere above, Seris waited. His seventh Immortal Lady. Angel Auditor extraordinaire.
He grew in bureaucratic bursts. Every stamped form accelerated maturation. By the time he reached the size of a stapler, he wore a tiny intern badge: Kael Valdris, Probationary Clerk, Sin Division. Six Stigmas glowed beneath translucent skin: kraken, shadow, chrome, pearl, gears, hellfire wings now joined by a faint outline of feathers etched in red tape.
A golden quill the length of a javelin speared the desk beside him. "Trainee! Sort these damnation waivers before the Archseraph audits!"
The supervisor was a cherub with stress ulcers and a coffee addiction. Kael saluted with miniature seriousness and dove into the pile. Each waiver detailed a mortal's forbidden love: star-crossed demons, tragic ghosts, one particularly tragic accountant who fell for his tax software.
He sorted with supernatural speed. Chrono Tempest looped time around individual pages. Infernal flames incinerated duplicates. Abyssal pressure compressed stacks into origami cranes. By lunch break he had cleared three centuries of backlog.
Word spread.
Seris summoned him to Sub-Level Ω, the Vault of Sealed Hearts. The elevator was a descending scroll that unrolled for seven hours. When it stopped, he stepped into a cathedral of locked filing cabinets, each drawer labeled with a beating heart preserved in crystal.
She stood at the center, wings of liquid gold spanning the vault, halo spinning like a buzzsaw. Robes of white silk clung to curves engineered by divine proportion. Glasses perched on a nose that had sniffed out more sin than Satan himself. In her hand: a contract thicker than a planet.
"Kael Valdris," she intoned, voice the chime of celestial bells mixed with a secretary's exhaustion. "You have accrued seven counts of interdimensional heartbreak. Sign here to forfeit all future affection."
He landed on the contract, feet sinking into parchment warm as skin. "I'd rather sign your body, Auditor."
Memory slammed into her like a meteor of grace. Her wings flared, scattering feathers of light. The contract burst into confetti.
"You," she breathed. "The beast who made hell kneel. The prince who drowned armies. The student who looped my orgasms until time begged for mercy."
He grew to full size mid-sentence, wings unfolding to match hers. "And you're the angel who's about to fall harder than Lucifer on a Monday morning."
They collided among the filing cabinets.
Robes tore like tissue. Her skin tasted of frankincense and lightning. He pinned her against Drawer 777: Forbidden Contracts. Lips bruised. Tongues battled for dominance. Her halo spun wild, projecting holographic memories of every previous life across the vault ceiling.
He dropped to his knees. Wings wrapped her thighs. Tongue delved into sacred heat that gushed ambrosia. She sang in ancient tongues, voice cracking stained-glass windows that didn't exist.
Mana surged celestial. Seven Stigmas prepared fusion.
He rose, cock unsheathed, glowing with layered power. She wrapped legs around his waist, wings beating hard enough to hurricane loose papers into tornadoes. Entry was divine violation. Tight, scalding, pulsing with halos of light.
They fucked through the vault. Drawers opened on their own, hearts inside beating in rhythm. Each thrust stamped a new clause on reality.
Stigmas blazed. A seventh tattoo etched across his collarbones: feathers bound in golden chains, dripping holy ink. Stigma Seven complete. Hybrid spell: *Celestial Infernal Chrono Abyss Draco Shadow Kraken Tempest*. He could now audit souls mid-orgasm, loop damnation into salvation, file paperwork that rewrote fate.
She came screaming hymns that shattered crystal hearts. He followed, seed erupting as liquid starlight that flooded drawers and rewrote every forbidden love into happily-ever-after.
They collapsed amid a blizzard of redeemed contracts.
Seris traced the new chains. "Twelve hours left before love files your death warrant."
He grinned, fangs still elongated from beast floor. "Then let's commit every sin in the employee handbook."
They did.
Office desk: bent over quarterly reports.
Copy room: photocopies of her ass while the machine jammed on ecstasy.
Elevator: suspended between floors for subjective weeks.
Cloud server farm: fucked across rows of soul backups until data corrupted into love letters.
Each climax upgraded the spell. He learned to stamp climaxes onto enemy souls, forcing instant surrender via pleasure overload.
But heaven noticed.
The Archseraph descended in wrathful glory, twelve wings of judgment, flaming sword labeled "Budget Cuts." Rebellion brewed among the clerical angels who envied Seris's fall. They wanted Kael audited into oblivion.
War in the paperwork skies.
Kael and Seris fought back-to-back. He filed enemy attacks into "Rejected" bins that swallowed angels whole. She audited their halos until they tarnished and plummeted. Celestial tempests looped artillery fire into friendly hugs. Infernal flames purified corruption.
The Archseraph struck, sword cleaving reality. Kael parried with a rolled-up contract longer than galaxies.
"You dare love in my department?" the Archseraph thundered.
"I dare love everywhere," Kael roared.
Final clash. He and Seris merged mid-air, wings entwined, bodies joined in aerial mating spiral. Full hybrid spell: *Apocalyptic Celestial Infernal Chrono Abyss Draco Shadow Kraken Tempest*.
Reality filed for bankruptcy.
The Archseraph was stamped OBSOLETE and folded into a paper crane that fluttered away crying.
The ascent gate manifested as a golden escalator descending upward, guarded by the Bureaucratic Leviathan: a serpent of endless forms and red tape, coils made of every contract ever signed.
They battled through triplicate. Each strike required three signatures. Each climax notarized in blood and semen.
At the core: the original contract of creation. Kael signed it with his cock inside Seris, seed rewriting genesis itself.
The leviathan dissolved into confetti of approved stamps.
Gate opened.
Seris, wings singed, halo cracked, clung to him. "Floor 8. The Lich Empress waits in her tomb of memories."
They stepped through.
Death by love claimed him mid-kiss. Heart filed under "Overdue."
Rebirth. Cold stone. Dust in lungs.
He awoke inside a phylactery gem, body knitting from necrotic mist.
Floor 8. Void Necropolis.
Lich Empress Morgana's laughter echoed through crypts.
Seven Ladies bound. Golden chains across his collarbones dripped holy blood.
The tower's apex loomed closer.