When he opened his eyes, his senses were immediately enveloped in softness and warmth.
He found himself nestled in the lap of a pink-haired girl.
She was cute. Petite. Absolutely huggable. He believed, with utter conviction, that if a goddess of lolis existed, this would be her divine form.
"You woke up, my little Campione," she chimed, her voice light and melodic.
A playful, teasing glint entered her eyes as she looked down at him. "Do you like your mom's lap that much?"
Pandora observed the young man as he assessed her silently, making no move to leave the comfortable warmth of her thighs.
She couldn't resist poking a little fun. Such a cute son—it was a first for her.
Every other Campione she'd met had immediately resisted her affection, their monstrous pride and swollen egos rejecting any treatment that made them feel like a child.
And honestly, she wasn't wrong. Campione were defined by their colossal egos and fierce pride, and he was no exception.
His lack of resistance to Pandora because she was cute
She was exactly his type—cute, petite, and perfectly huggable.
What more could a man possibly ask for?
A translucent screen materialized before his eyes, hovering in the space between reality and dream.
Option 1: Recognize her as a mother
1. Pandora +30 affection
2. Pandora +10 trust
3. Momma Boy's Route
Option 2: Tease her back instead
1. Pandora +10 affection
2. Pandora +30 trust
3. Alpha Route
Option 3: Stay silent and enjoy her thigh a little longer
1. Pandora +40 affection
2. Vanilla Route
Huh…?
Why was his life becoming more and more like a damn dating sim?
So, Path One was the submissive play, Path Two was dominance, and Path Three was… pure vanilla.
Was this the so-called "power of choice" trying to tell him?
[Choose: 2]
A grin, sharp and full of intent, spread across his face.
"Instead of being my mother," he began, his tone laced with deliberate, humorous challenge, "how about you be my girlfriend, mom?"
Pandora's smile widened into a radiant beam, delighted by his boldness.
She shook her head, a gesture of fond refusal. "Unfortunately, you cannot remain in this place for long. But I do appreciate the offer."
It wasn't that she minded—the faint blush on her cheeks and the way her fingers stilled in his hair suggested otherwise—but the immutable rules of this space forbade it.
Her expression softened, overflowing with a warmth that was both maternal and something more. "Of course, mommy wouldn't mind the offer… if you were willing to forget the material world and stay here with me forever."
Her fingers gently carded through his hair, spoiling him utterly.
His flirtation, and his lack of rejection towards her maternal title, made her affection spill over.
The playful light in his eyes dimmed, replaced by a sudden, cold seriousness. "Unfortunately, I have a blood debt to pay."
The words fell like stones, heavy and final. He remembered, with crystalline clarity, the driving purpose behind his choice to walk this path—the reason he had fought to become a Campione in the first place.
He was not a man who forgave. He certainly never forgot. Especially not the memory of how he had been pushed to the very brink of annihilation, how he had almost died at the hands of the Counter Force.
That debt would be collected. Whatever the cost.
His gaze met hers again, the intensity momentarily banked.
"Maybe in the future," he conceded, the promise hanging between them. "Maybe I will stay with you… after my debt is paid in full."
"You have my blessing, my son."
Pandora's smile was a soft, genuine thing, touched by the young man's unexpected comfort and sincerity.
Then she shifted. Instead of the chaste, forehead kiss he might have expected from a 'mother,' she leaned down, her pink hair cascading like a curtain around them.
Her lips met his. It was not a brief, symbolic touch. It was a kiss.
Her mouth was impossibly soft, and she tasted like something beyond the material world—like the first sip of immortality, like starlight given flavor, with an undercurrent of divine nectar that made his senses reel.
There was a shocking intimacy to it. Her tongue didn't slip into his mouth, but the pressure was deliberate, lingering, and full of a promise that had nothing to do with a parent's affection.
It was the seal of a covenant, sensual and profound. He could feel the faint, electric hum of her divinity passing from her lips directly into his, a tingling current that spread from his mouth down his throat and into the very core of his being.
She held the kiss for a long, breathtaking moment, one of her hands coming up to cradle the side of his face, her thumb stroking his cheekbone.
When she finally pulled back, a silvery strand of that otherworldly nectar briefly connected their lips before breaking.
Her eyes, glowing with a gentle, rosy light, held his. In that gaze was the weight of eternity and the spark of something uniquely, personally offered.
With that kiss as the conduit, she gave him her blessing, and she poured all of Sun Wukong's divine authority directly into him.
She had always been… frugal with other Campiones. To them, she gifted only fragments of a Heretic God's power—a half-baked, controlled portion of the divine essence they stole.
But this young man was different.
Special.
So, she broke her own precedent.
Rather than a diluted trickle, she granted him the torrent. Her blessing was total, complete, unreserved.
Don't mistake her generosity for weakness or forgetfulness. She had not forgotten the slights, the prideful rejections from her other "children."
The fact she gifted them any power at all, despite that simmering grudge, was a testament to her own patience.
That grudge was, in the end, folded away and forgiven—because she was their mother, even if they refused to acknowledge her.
But they were no longer her favorites. Let them wrestle with their partial powers. Without her, there would be no Campione at all. It was a truth they conveniently ignored.
Her generosity to this young man stemmed from a simple, rare courtesy: he had been respectful. He hadn't outright disrespected her.
More than that, his playful confidence, the spark of something defiant and untamed in his eyes, had shown her a glimpse of a different potential.
She was intrigued. She wanted to see what future such a Campione would carve into the world, and so she gifted him the means to do it.
For better or for worse, the world had no idea what was coming.
[Congratulations, Player, for choosing the Campione's Path.]
[You have gained: Sun Wukong Affection +20]
[You have gained: Sun Wukong Trust +20]
[You have gained: All of Sun Wukong's power, drawn directly from the root of the myth.]
[You have gained: Pandora Affection +30]
The notifications didn't stop. Another cascade of digital chimes flooded his awareness.
[Congratulations, Player, for completing the opening sequence of the Alpha Route on Pandora's Path.]
[You have gained: Pandora Affection +10]
[You have gained: Pandora Trust +30]
[You have unlocked: Pandora's Path - Alpha Route.]
A new screen materialized in his mind's eye, displaying a detailed status.
[Name: Pandora]
[Detail: The acknowledged, yet unacknowledged, mother of all Campiones. She is the originator of the dark sacrificial ritual that births Devil Kings. Without her sanction and the ritual she governs, it is impossible for a mortal to seize and contain the authority of a god. She remembers every child, even those who pretend she does not exist.]
[Affection: 40]
[Trust: 40]
Suddenly, the ephemeral space of Netherworld and her heavenly laps vanished.
He found himself back at the absolute beginning—sitting on that ordinary park bench, the moment just before his first, fateful encounter with Sun Wukong.
But everything was different now. His memories were intact, perfectly clear.
The taste of Pandora's lips—sweet, faintly of ambrosia and something eternally maternal—still lingered on his own.
He touched his lips, a slow smile spreading across his face.
Nostalgia, and a fierce, rising anticipation.
He began to look forward to the future with a hunger that was entirely new.
He stood up from the bench, the ordinary wood groaning under his now-limitless power.
Without a backward glance, he stepped off the path of the ordinary and began walking firmly down his own.