Chapter 7: The One who Pierces the Sun
A sharp reverberating ache pinged inside my skull, like someone was hammering nails into my temples. I clenched my eyes shut, groaning as I forced them open.
What greeted me was a green tent canvas, poles, and the faint smell of… alcohol.
…Huh. I didn't remember stumbling into a tent last night. Hell, I didn't even have a tent yesterday.
But to be fair, everything after that third round of, whatever the hell that amazing desert swill was, came in shards and fog.
I've learned my lesson: Faunus partied harder than Vegas. Literal party animals, go figure!
I gave up the motion of sitting up as the rest of me protested at even the thought of it. My body felt heavy, sore, and sticky in places I didn't want to think about. A groan slipped out of me as I cracked my neck with a satisfying pop. I was about to stretch, when—
"Mmm~"
I froze. Every instinct in me turned rigid because I knew that voice.
Slowly, I glanced down. There was a weight pressed against me under the blanket. A very warm, very familiar-shaped weight.
My heart started hammering as I pinched the edge of the blanket and lifted it.
My breath caught.
It was Ilia.
Her usually perfect ponytail was a chaotic nest, strands clinging to her flushed face. A line of dried drool clung to the corner of her smiling lips, and faint teeth marks and scratches trailed down her skin. Her arm was draped tightly around my torso, her head pillowed on my chest, her soft bare legs tangled with mine.
…
Well then.
It seemed like something happened last night.
I was shocked, sure, but not flustered because this… wasn't my first time waking up with a naked woman in my arms, and I doubted it would be my last, but one thing seriously pissed me off…
…I didn't remember a single damn thing. NOT. ONE. THING!
Ilia was gorgeous (seriously, why the hell had I not seen a single unattractive Faunus since getting here?), and sure, I noticed there'd been moments between us. Flirty tension and glances. But I didn't think we'd skip the middle and go straight to the finale.
I sighed, frustrated at the lost memories, but the rumble in my chest must have carried, because the Ilia stirred at the absolute worst possible time.
Her eyelids cracked open, sluggish, squinting against the morning light.
"…B-bright…" she whispered.
Then her gaze slowly, slowly dragged up from my bare chest to my face.
"...S…Sam? …What are you doing here?"
I gave her my best shaky smile.
Her pupils dilated as her mind caught up. Her skin flickered pink, then red, then an embarrassed kaleidoscope as her mouth hung open.
This was the kind of situation with only one possible outcome.
I carefully let the blanket slip back over her, loosened my shoulders, stared straight up at the canvas above, and braced myself.
"KYAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"
Ilia's shriek nearly burst the tent open. She shot off me like a bullet, the blanket wrapped tight around her like armor, and scrambled to the corner of the tent. That left me—
Completely, utterly, buck naked.
"Hey there! Morning, sleepy head..." I calmly said with my best disarming smile, throwing up my hands in a vain attempt to calm her down, unbothered by my lack of cover.
Her face, her everything really, settled in a color so red she could've melted steel. "Hey there!? What is THIS!? WHAT HAPPENED!?" She flailed, gesturing wildly between us, clearly just as blank on last night as I was.
I opened my mouth.
I opened my mouth to answer—
"Geez! Ilia, babe, you're too noisy~."
Another voice came from my other side.
Ilia froze, a squeak escaping her throat as her skin flickered blue now. My head snapped around and found…Whisper.
Her normally ponytailed blonde hair was a messy tangle, her cadet-blue eyes squinting in irritation at being woken up. She was propped against her blanket, clutching it lazily in front of her chest—which, holy hell, turned out to be a lot more tantalisingly substantial than that desert gear ever let on. Her skin was marked too with faint scratches, teeth marks, and bruises.
Ilia's jaw dropped. "W–W–Whisper!? What are you doing here!?"
I, on the other hand, had already come up with an answer as a flashing alert pinged at the corner of my vision.
Feat Achieved!
Have a threesome with two virgins! Sex is already impossible to achieve for a lot of lonely people out there, but here you are— returning with a 200% win rate and then some!
+1 Bronze Familiar Gacha Ticket
…Great. Just fantastic. Now I was even more pissed that I couldn't remember a single damn thing.
Grumbling, I spun the gacha just to take the edge off.
Congratulations!
[Chauffeur]
|Common Familiar|
This familiar, when called, summons a very luxurious limousine driven by a golem driver that will drive you to anywhere you specify that it can successfully drive to before driving off and vanishing the moment it goes out of sight. If the car and/or the driver is destroyed, this familiar will go into a 24-hour cooldown.Well, would you look at that? A magic Uber. I can feel my anger slipping away already…just a tiny bit.
"What're you talking about? It's my tent," Whisper yawned, rubbing her eye with a finger. "You should know—you—" She stopped mid-sentence, catching Ilia's horrified, confused stare. Then she glanced at me.
"Ohhhh." She tapped her chin, ears flopping. "Well. That must be a bummer."
"Ugh, you tell me," I muttered.
"S–Sam!?" Ilia's voice cracked like glass.
I turned toward her with the straightest, most poker-faced look I'd ever managed—even worse than that one time when I lost to a random ass royal flush. "I don't have a single iota of memory of one of the best nights of my life… with two gorgeous women. So yeah. I'm a little miffed." I capped it with a pout.
Ilia's face went crimson so fast I thought the tent might actually combust. Whisper, meanwhile, just smirked, pulling her blanket tighter as her ears flicked lazily. She crawled closer on her knees until I felt her bare chest pressed against my back.
"My poor Sammy…" she purred, kissing the side of my neck. "I don't see the problem. All we need is a… repeat performance~."
I sighed as her arms wrapped around me, her dainty fingers tracing idle patterns across my chest and arms that somehow set a fire under my skin.
"You were relentless last night," she teased, trailing over the numerous faint scratches along my chest and back. "Both of us had to beg you to stop. It was only after poor, exhausted Ilia and I… made a promise before you started slamming yourself into us again and again for the last time."
I groaned as she started nibbling my ear. "What… What was the promise?"
"To have your babies~"
"Sh—shark! It's a shark!" Ilia suddenly blurted, her voice cracking like glass.
Whisper and I froze, blinking, before following her trembling finger.
Her gaze was locked dead center… at my crotch.
"…First time I've ever heard anyone call it that."
"She was calling it a bunch of other names last night though…"
A buzzing cut through our musings.
"Ugh… that must be sis." The blonde Faunus groaned, untangling herself from me. She crawled across the mess of clothes on the tent floor, giving me a perfect view of her heart-shaped ass. Not that I was complaining…
She plopped down, fished out her Scroll, and flicked it into tablet mode. "She wants us up. Meet her at her tent—Ilia? You okay?"
I followed her gaze to see the chameleon girl sitting rigidly in her corner, clutching her blanket. Her colors rippled in a storm of hues before settling into a nervous yellow.
"H—huh? O—Oh! I was just… just thinking."
…Was it me? Did she remember something I didn't? Did I do something wrong last night? Did I—not perform? My stomach sank. I almost moved to comfort her—until Whisper beat me to it, darting over and hugging her tight.
"Hey~ it's all gonna be okay," Whisper cooed, stroking her back.
"…Did I mess up somehow?" I asked, voice low. I'd never forgive myself if I hurt them, even by accident.
"You're fine," Whisper reassured, though her eyes stayed on Ilia. "We just need to have a… girl talk!"
Usually, I'd take the hint. Normally I left early, maybe dropped off some flowers or chocolates, a cheeky note. That was the routine. One night, nothing more.
But… something about walking out right now felt wrong. Like I'd be abandoning them.
"If there's anything I can do—"
Whisper cut me off with a smirk. "If it's true you're going to face Sunpiercer today, then all you need to do is focus on that." She waved me toward the flap. "Now go clean up. You smell like fish."
Resigning myself, I hurriedly pulled on my clothes and slipped out into the cool air. The sky was already paling, streaked faintly with orange as the world was moments away from sunrise.
The camp was quiet but not asleep. Rows of tents were pitched neatly, the banners and armaments hinting that I was still in the midst of the Menagerie Guard. A few early risers stirred near the cookfires, and if anyone had overheard last night, or Ilia's rather loud shout, they gave no sign. Instead, I was met with nods, waves, even a few tired smiles. Either they didn't care or they were gracious enough not to mention it. Whatever it was, I was grateful for it.
A warm bath would've been appreciated, but the nearest one meant a long walk back to the village. Instead, I wandered toward the rear of the camp, until I found a clear patch of sand behind the tents.
I focused, taking in the cold air into my nostrils. A bead of water shimmered into being, floating above my palm. At first, it was no larger than a marble, dripping away almost immediately. I steadied my concentration, feeding more of myself into it, and watched as it swelled into a marble, then a fist, then basketball-sized. However it was still not enough for what I had planned. I poured more of my energy into it until I was staring at something as tall and wide as a fridge, a shimmering column of suspended water that warped the early light.
Satisfied, I stepped inside with a shiver. The chill was bracing, but it was better than having the smell of sweat and sex clinging to my skin. With a thought, I then commanded the water to churn, swirling into currents that scrubbed against me in place of soap. It worked well… for about a minute. Then, with a loud pop, the construct collapsed, splattering onto the sand.
"Not bad for a first try," I muttered, wringing the lingering water through my clothes and over my skin until the worst of the stink was gone. My muscles unwound as I cracked my neck, releasing the knot sitting there since last night. A deep sigh escaped me. Today was going to be very, very busy.
…
I ducked into the command tent, lifting the tarp.
"Good morning, captain," I greeted, spotting the wolf faunus sitting behind her table, scroll in hand before I took the seat in front of her table for myself.
"Morning to you too, Sam." Captain Vierra glanced up at me, a polished blond brow raising. Then, with a narrow-eyed look, she added, "Had a fun night?"
I winced, my cheeks heating. Oh…right. I just banged the Captain of the Menagerie Guard's sister.
Wolf caught the expression and shook her head, blonde hair swaying with the motion. "Relax. It's less about that and more about the noise. Whisper's old enough to make her own decisions." She deadpanned, "I'm just more bothered about hearing the results of those decisions while trying to get some sleep."
I opened my mouth, scrambling for an apology or an excuse, but another voice cut in smoothly.
"Ahem. Captain, didn't you just say not to bring that up?"
I blinked. Until now, I thought it was just me and the captain in the tent but apparently, I was wrong.
Smithy was easy to spot, with his lion's mane-like hair and easy grin. But there were two new faces as well: a girl with wicked green hair that shimmered almost like sea glass, a monkey's tail curling lazily behind her chair, and a tall guy with cool teal hair and matching cat ears twitching in amusement.
Captain Wolf muttered something under her breath in reply, too low for me to catch.
"Hey everyone! Sorry we're late!" came Whisper's chipper voice as the tarp lifted. She strutted in, the picture of smug blonde energy, with Ilia trailing close behind her.
I raised a hand in greeting with a smile, and they both returned the gesture with eager waves. It was simple, but it eased the weight on my chest. Whatever awkwardness that still lingered from this morning, we were still good.
"Now that we're all here." Captain Wolf rose from her seat. "Sam, you already know Smithy, our mechanic."
I nodded to the lion Faunus, who returned it with a polite tilt of his head.
"Whisper, our scout, who hardly needs an introduction." Wolf continued, shooting her sister a side-eye. Whisper grinned and cracked one blue eye open long enough to wink at me before closing it again.
Wolf pressed on. "That there is Slinger, our marksman." She gestured to the teal-haired man, who gave me a casual salute with two fingers.
"And Claire, my lieutenant. She runs things in the outpost when I'm otherwise occupied."
The green-haired monkey-tailed woman leaned back in her chair with a sly grin. "Charmed."
"Likewise," I replied smoothly.
"Uh, Captain Wolf?" Ilia piped up, hesitant.
"Yes, Ilia?"
"...Where's Mimic?"
The room chuckled almost in unison—Smithy's rumbling laugh, Slinger's snicker, Claire's amused hum, and even Wolf shaking her head with a wry smile. Ilia and I shared a look of confusion.
Whisper leaned in with a smirk far too sharp for her usual sunshine demeanor. "We found out he was keeping tabs on White Fang and Menagerie Guard movements…selling them to anyone who'd pay. So…" Her eyes narrowed dangerously. "We…found a better use for him~"
Ilia paled, stammering, "I—I see…"
I almost felt sorry for the guy. Almost.
"Nevertheless." Wolf's voice cut clean through the laughter, reclaiming command. "Even without him, the team functions at its best." She spread her arms to the group. "Sam, meet your distraction while you challenge Sunpiercer. Foxhound."
"Heeey! Wait a minute! I thought we agreed we were the Diamond Cutters," Whisper interrupted instantly.
Wolf's arms sagged, her carefully prepared introduction derailed. "Seriously, Whisper? This again?" Her tone was tired enough to curdle milk.
"Why do you get to name the squad? You don't even go on missions with the team that often—you just sit your fat ass in this tent all day writing your memoirs!" Whisper shot back, hands on her hips.
To my surprise, the usually composed Captain Wolf actually blushed, tail going ramrod straight. "Wha—I am the captain! And shut your mouth about that! At least I—"
And just like that, they were bickering like—well, like siblings. Snapping, pointing, cutting each other off, their voices overlapping as if the whole camp weren't listening. If I hadn't known better, I would've bet on hair-pulling within the next thirty seconds.
"Uhhh…" I glanced at Ilia beside me. "Do they…do this all the time?"
Ilia gave a sheepish laugh. "Eh…more often than you'd think."
Claire, lounging comfortably, added with a smile, "Last time it was about whether we should stock tea or coffee from Kuo Kuana."
"Or who gets to ride shotgun in the armored van," Slinger offered with a grin.
Smithy groaned, rubbing his forehead. "Don't remind me. The holes were enough to grate cheese with..."
A sharp sigh from Whisper cut across the tent. "Fine, fine—but I'm still not over the name!" she muttered, crossing her arms with a pout.
Wolf pinched the bridge of her nose. "Now that we've passed that…" Her voice dropped into that commanding register that made even the rowdiest faunus in the room straighten.
"Temporarily!" Whisper chirped.
Wolf didn't even look at her. "We've wasted enough breath. Sam, I'll ask this again." She leaned forward, elbows resting on the table, fingers steepled. "Are you sure about this? You could extend your stay here. Fox—"
"Ahem."
Her eye twitched. "…The Menagerie Guard could train you before you face Sunpiercer. You'd walk into the fight more prepared. That thing isn't like a Sobek pack. It's worse."
Everyone's gaze pinned me at once.
The fact that it would take even more time than the seven days that Sienna had given me went unsaid.
Wolf was right, though. This wasn't a random mob fight where you respawn and laugh it off. This one had a nickname. A boss fight with a reputation—Sunpiercer. You don't earn a name like that unless you've put entire villages into graves.
Maybe the gravity of the situation hasn't hit me yet but each combat scenario I was in involved me being beaten to an inch of my life. The part where I discovered I was a battle junkie was enlightening.
For a second, her words actually got through. Maybe I should slow down. Maybe I should take the seven days and pad them with training.
…Unfortunately, that wasn't the type of man I was.
(And I had another chance to spin the Gacha right in front of me that was prime for the taking and I'd be damned if I didn't.)
I dragged up a grin, big and toothy, the kind that always drove the pit bosses crazy.
"...Yes, Captain. I'm sure." I met every eye in the tent, fire burning in my gut. "So… when do we leave?"
That earned me a few smiles. Even Slinger and Smithy gave firm nods, eyes sharp with resolve.
"Heh. If that's what you want," Wolf smirked, hands on her hips, "then we're wheels up in thirty."
"Yes, Captain!" the crew answered in unison.
"Except for you, Ilia."
That made me blink, and Ilia stiffened. "What? Why?"
Wolf crossed her arms. "I seem to recall Whisper telling me your job was escorting Sam to the facility?"
"Well, yes, but—"
"Then your job here is done. I can't command you, Ilia. That's Sienna's place."
"Ilia, what my sister—" Whisper stepped in with a cheeky pout at Wolf, "—is trying to say, is that she's worried about you. This isn't just some White Fang smash-and-grab. It's dangerous. She wants to know you're somewhere safe."
I raised a hand. "Captain, if it's alright... Ilia should join in on distraction duty."
Ilia's head snapped toward me, eyes wide.
"It's only right she gets to see me off. Besides, I've seen her fight. She's good."
Wolf narrowed her gaze, silent for a long beat. Then she exhaled. "...Fine. I'll allow it. But she stays on either mine or Whisper's ass."
"Pfft." Whisper stifled a laugh, clearly recalling something from last night.
Wolf shot her sister a glare sharp enough to cut steel.
Whisper raised both hands, singsonging, "I didn't say anything~"
The captain groaned. "Is there anything else?"
Silence. Just the low crackle of the lanterns in the tent.
"Alright then. If you've got something to do, do it now."
The tent emptied with the shuffle of boots and whispered chatter. I slipped past the others, shooting a quick smile at Whisper, until I caught up with Ilia near the exit.
"Hey, Ilia. I was about to grab a light snack before we go. Wanna come with?"
"H-huh? S-sure." She fumbled her words, the pink spots on her cheeks giving her away.
Yeah. There's still some awkwardness between us.
"Sam…thanks for the recommendation, by the way."
"Hey, no problem. Game recognizes game."
She blinked. "What?"
I grinned. "It means I'm capable, you're capable."
She sighed, but a smile crept onto her lips. "You're so weird…"
"A good kind of weird or the bad kind?" I smirked.
Her eyes twinkled with a little mystery. "I'll tell you the answer some other time."
I nudged her with my elbow, earning a startled squeak. "Don't keep me waiting too long." Then I grabbed her wrist and pulled her along.
"S-Sam! Whoa!"
The natural hush of the desert was shredded by the growl of engines, the armored Menagerie Guard van flanked by two dirt bikes, all tearing across the yellow sands.
Inside said van, Samuel Gatsby sat comfortably with a faintly smug slouch. In front of him floated a small orb of water, bobbing like a glass marble between his hands. He was squeezing in some practice with his new water manipulation ability, though his concentration kept flickering thanks to the oddly groaning, shuffling sack sprawled on the floor.
He tried to ignore it. Really tried. But then the van hit a hard bump, and the sack let out a muffled groan—too human-sounding to dismiss.
"Uhhh… what's with the creepy sack?" Sam asked as the orb splattered on the floor, side-eying it. Ilia, sitting across from him, scooted further away, clearly thinking the same thing.
Whisper, on the other hand, didn't so much as glance up. She was busy tinkering with her Variable Whispon, a bizarre contraption that looked more like a lopsided umbrella than a proper weapon. Earlier she'd explained the rifle she carried before was actually her sister's, borrowed while hers was being repaired.
"Oh, that thing?" she said casually, finally sparing the sack a smirk before turning back to her weapon. "That's our 'Grimm bait'. Helps lure the nastier ones out into our traps. It's how we beat that Alpha Nevermore…before it had the idea of jumping into the oasis."
Ilia shifted uneasily. "So… it's some kind of animal?"
Without answering, Whisper pressed a button on her Whispon. Blue light shimmered across it, reshaping it into the form of a hefty hammer. She swung it down, whacking the sack hard enough that the groan that followed was low, pained, and distinctly not-animal.
Whisper dragged it back with a lazy sweep of her weapon before switching it off, smiling at Ilia. "You could say that~"
The van jolted as it screeched to a halt.
"This is it. Any further and Sunpiercer will take notice." Captain Wolf's voice carried from the passenger's seat, calm but firm.
Then one by one, the team disembarked while Whisper hauled the sack and dropped it to the sand with a dull thud.
Claire spoke up as she swung off her dirtbike, Slinger landing beside her with feline ease.
"So, we all know the plan, right?"
The ocelot Faunus gave a wry grin. "We deal with the birds while Sam takes a dirtbike and handles the legendary giant, man-eating scorpion. Oddly enough, Captain, this is the simplest plan you've had in a while."
"Simple is often the best, Slinger." Sniper Wolf flicked her long blonde hair back, her rifle gleaming under the desert sun as she chambered a round with a satisfying click.
Smithy clapped Sam on the back. "You ready?"
"Ready as I'll ever be." Sam rolled his shoulders loose, smirk tugging at his lips.
Whisper, however, strolled up with her usual sway, grabbing the front of his shirt before planting a kiss on his cheek. "If you die, I'll find a way to drag your sorry ass back just to kick it."
"Wouldn't count on it." His eyes shifted to Ilia, who met him with nothing but a soft smile. Something inside him sank at the lack of a better farewell, but he didn't let it show.
"Captain." He gave Wolf a nod. She returned it before gesturing to Whisper.
And with a theatrical flourish that would put a magician to shame, Whisper yanked the sack free… revealing a battered Faunus. His hair coiled into squid-like tendrils, two twitching appendages sprouting from his back. His face was swollen, purple and blue, a gag muffling his ragged breaths.
"So that's where Mimic went…" Ilia muttered and Sam understood instantly. Snitches didn't just get stitches in Menagerie.
"Yup," Whisper purred. She twirled her weapon, voice dripping with glee. "Now, ladies and gentle-faunus, let's revisit your basic Grimm 101. What draws the average murder machine?"
Her rifle shimmered, shifting into a hammer with a mechanical snap. She grinned wickedly.
"Negative emotions!"
Without warning, she brought the hammer down with a crunch on Mimic's knee.
Sam flinched at the sickening crack as the Faunus howled into his gag.
"And out here, in the wide empty desert…" Whisper continued, spinning her hammer lazily before smashing the other knee. Crack. "…that's like firing a flare in the sky while your pants are down."
The sound echoed, and as Sam's stomach twisted, the sand beneath them began to shift.
A low rumble rolled through the desert, vibrating up Sam's legs like the growl of some ancient beast.
"Here they come," Wolf said flatly, her voice carrying over the whipping wind. On the horizon, a wall of sand twisted into a storm, kicked up by the thunderous march of Terror Birds.
"Sam, get on the bike. When I give the word—you floor it."
Sam didn't argue. He swung a leg over the seat, gripping the handlebars, heart pounding like a war drum.
That was when Wolf lit up.
Silver aura flared around her like a second skin, then tore free, splitting into shapes—shapes that snarled and padded forward. A whole pack of luminous wolves, eyes glowing white, formed at her side. They lowered their heads and growled, mirroring her resolve.
"Hold…" Wolf's voice cut sharp through the tension.
The crew stood ready, weapons drawn, a chorus of steel and Dust. Masks slid into place with every one of them hiding their faces behind visages of their respective beasts. Even Ilia slipped her White Fang mask on, her eyes narrowing through the crimson lenses.
"Hold…" Wolf repeated, softer this time.
The Terror Birds loomed closer, shadows breaking through the storm. One screeched and lunged, leaping farther than seemed possible, wings slicing the air.
BANG!
Wolf's rifle cracked. The bird's skull exploded mid-air, its body crashing lifeless into the sand.
And then—chaos.
The storm of Grimm slammed into them, screeches and talons colliding with a wall of gunfire, blades, and the snapping jaws of silver wolves. Every shot from Wolf's rifle was precise, clean—each kill punctuating the madness. Her summoned pack tore into feathers and flesh, dragging shrieking monsters down in sprays of black mist.
Sam grit his teeth, slammed his foot down. The bike roared to life, tires screaming as it spat sand into the air.
He shot forward, threading through the chaos, weaving between lunging beaks and flailing claws. The horde hardly noticed him—too consumed by the aura-lit slaughter happening in their midst.
"Godspeed, Sam," Wolf muttered, squeezing the trigger and blowing another Terror Bird's head into nothing. Her wolves pounced on the next, ripping its wings apart as it shrieked.
Behind him, the desert was a warzone. And ahead, his path was clear.
My heart still hammered against my ribs as the dunes blurred past me, the engine beneath me screaming as I forced every drop of speed out of it.
But the pit in my stomach only grew deeper. I hated this. Hated leaving people behind to get hurt in my place.
"Please… let them be safe," I muttered into the wind. I wasn't the religious type, but if anyone was listening…
"They'll be fine. They do this on the regular."
My head snapped to the right—then double-taked so hard I nearly swerved.
Ilia was there, astride her own bike, the wind tugging at her hair, her mask over her face, a faint smile on her lips.
"ILIA!? What the heck are you doing here!?"
"My job, you dummy!" she shouted back over the roar of engines. "It's not over until I get you there myself!"
A breathless laugh tore out of me. "Don't tell me you're worried about lil' ol' me?"
Her eyes flicked toward me just long enough to soften. "...I am."
I blinked. For once, I had no comeback yet I can't wipe off the smile on my face. The silence after that said more than either of us could.
The ride stretched on, dunes giving way to the horizon. And there it was just like the hologram depicted.
The S.D.C. facility with no monster in sight.
Maybe the intel was outdated. Maybe Sunpiercer had moved on. Maybe, just maybe, we'd get there without another disaster.
And maybe I'd notice a golden stinger the size of a tree trunk slam its blunt end into my side.
No dice.
"Sam!" Ilia's voice cracked with panic as I was launched off my bike, tumbling down a dune.
I landed chest-first, sand burning hot against my skin even as it cushioned the fall. My bike wasn't so lucky—its crash echoed somewhere next to me.
Hissing through the pain, I patted my ribs. The hit would've caved me in if not for my Fishman durability. As it was, I'd be black and blue, but standing.
"I'm fine!" I wheezed, forcing myself up. Ilia was already gunning her bike down the slope toward me.
Then—the sand shifted. A gleam of gold broke the surface, arrowing straight for her.
"GET DOWN!"
[Ability Slot 1]
[Golem Armor]
I snatched my wrecked bike and hurled it like a spear as my arm adopted its cold steel as armor erupted over me.
CLANG!
The stinger punched clean through the steel frame, jerking back with the ruined vehicle skewered on it. The tail whipped violently, sand spraying, a guttural chitter rattling the air.
The RPG-addled part of my brain screamed at me. If I'd learned anything from boss fights—this was it.
"ILIA!" I pointed at the impaled bike, the tail still thrashing with it stuck on. "BLOW IT UP!"
"Got it!"
She didn't hesitate as she leapt off the dirt bike. Her whip, Lightning Lash, cracked against the fuel tank. Electricity surged—
BOOOOM!
The explosion tore the dune apart, flames and smoke billowing as Dust-fed fire ripped through the air.
I threw myself between Ilia and the blast, armor plating grinding as the inferno washed over me. Heat scorched and flames clawed but my steel held. My back sizzled where it absorbed the brunt, but to me it was nothing more than a furnace's warmth.
When the roar died down, sand still rained from the sky. I staggered, armor glowing faintly red from the heat.
Behind me, Ilia coughed but was unharmed.
Ahead of us, the smoke shifted. And through it came the sound—chitin scraping, a rattling shriek that made the sand itself shiver.
Sunpiercer was here.
And he wasn't entertaining visitors.
"You okay?" My voice came out metallic, warped by the armor.
Ilia blinked at me in surprise, probably realizing for the first time that my armor wasn't just coral. But she nodded quickly, steadying herself.
Relief at her status steadied me too. My gaze then snapped back to the smoke, where the silhouette of the Grimm was sharpening with every second. The explosion had rattled it, shaken its rhythm. That meant I had one shot to strike first.
"What are you going to do?" Ilia's voice followed me.
I pressed both palms forward, narrowing my focus to that buzzing point in my brain.
[Ability Slot 2]
[Water Manipulation]
Air then ripped itself open with a hiss and water burst into existence. At first it was little more than a stream, but as I poured energy into it, the flow widened, roared, swelled into a river.
I wrapped it around the massive silhouette like a snare until the smoke cleared, and the monster finally revealed itself.
The hologram had lied. It hadn't been half enough.
Sunpiercer loomed, its bone-white carapace studded with the rusting relics of failed hunts—axes, cleavers, broken swords, even shattered lances buried in its hide like trophies. Its pincers could shear trees in half. Its eyes were cold, lidless black disks rimmed in molten gold were each the size of a truck wheel.
And yet it shuddered, confused inside my conjured prison.
Good.
It wouldn't last. I could feel the strain already, water pressure tugging against me. Maybe two minutes—tops—before the entire thing popped. I didn't need two.
I stepped into the sphere and immediately, strength surged through me—the rush of my element, cradling me like home. My tail, armored and steel-edged, cut the water in propulsive sweeps.
And then I struck.
A flurry of thrusts, chops, palm-strikes, each blow cracking against its carapace as black ichor leaked into the water with every hit. Sunpiercer thrashed, sluggish inside the heavy flow, unable to follow my speed.
Only the stinger kept its pace, lancing through the blue in blurs of gold.
"Samehada Shōtei!"
I roared the name as my palm met the stinger mid-lunge. The impact cracked like thunder underwater, the tail snapping sideways with a screech that rattled my bones.
It gave me another opening.
I surged upward, armor dragging me faster than thought, until my feet landed against the mountainous carapace. From this close, the embedded weapons looked like an armory scattered across its back. One, a jagged greatsword jutting high, caught my eye.
Perfect.
Electricity sparked across my arms, lazy arcs dancing over steel-plated skin. I clenched a fist, lightning coiling tighter, hotter.
Then I drove it into the sword's hilt like a smith hammering a nail.
"Samegawara Seiken!!"
The charge detonated. Lightning ran down the blade, spiderwebbing through cracks in its carapace—before erupting.
The world became nothing but force.
Water shattered. My ears popped. Sand and sky twisted as I was hurled backward, crashing onto the dunes.
"Sam!"
Ilia's voice cut through the ringing in my ears. Her face filled my vision, relief washing over her features as she saw me alive.
I sucked in ragged breaths, adrenaline burning in my veins. "Is it dead?"
She glanced past me and relief turned to horror in an instant.
My gut sank as I already knew the answer.
I twisted my head just enough to see.
Through the haze of smoke and steam, the thing's massive body looked slack at first… then its chittering hiss split the air. The cracked mask of a face twisted, holes knitting together as if mocking us. Its mangled appendages writhed, popping back into place with sickening cracks.
"It's regenerating…" Ilia's gasp was half disbelief, half dread.
"Then I'll fry it faster than it heals," I spat, forcing my body up. My legs carried me before I even thought—I vaulted onto its back, armored boots hitting carapace with a sharp crack. My hands closed around two sword hilts buried in its shell.
Lightning surged through me, leaping into the blades. Arcs no doubt danced wildly inside the beast.
"JUST FUCKING DIE ALREADY!" I roared, pouring everything I had into it until the air smelled of ozone with the monster shrieking in raw pain.
Then—snap.
A pincer clamped around me, crushing. My lungs seized, the ground tore past my vision—then slam. My back hit the sand hard enough to rattle my skull. The pressure tightened, aura sparking against the strain, but it was only buying me seconds.
"Ghh—!" I gagged, ribs creaking.
The world lurched as the Deathstalker suddenly screeched and released me.
I collapsed, gasping. Through half-lidded eyes, I caught Ilia—whip crackling with static, Sunpiercer aimed steady, smoke rising from the monster's ruined eye.
"You alive?" she called, not daring to turn her back.
"Barely," I wheezed, forcing a grin. "But I'll take it. Thanks, Ilia."
"Don't thank me yet." Her whip hissed again, energy crawling up the length. "You got any more tricks up your sleeve?"
I dragged myself upright, eyes narrowing on the beast as its blasted eye socket bubbled and healed. "No but I bet it can't keep patching itself forever. We just have to keep hammering it."
Her head snapped toward me, incredulous. "You bet!? That's your plan!?"
I smirked despite the ache in my ribs. "What can I say? Call it a gambler's instinct." I raised a finger toward the cluster of broken weapons jutting from its back. "Those things are the key. If I keep—"
The words died in my throat.
The Deathstalker's gaze locked on me, almost knowing. Its pincers twisted behind its shell—then CRUNCH.
The remaining swords shattered like brittle twigs and scattered metal rained across the sand.
It shrieked to the heavens, scarlet eyes blazing as it lowered its hulking frame and charged.
"...Oh, that's bad," I muttered.
Sunpiercer lunged and we barely managed to dive clear as sand exploded where its massive stinger struck. The sound of it cracking against the stone beneath was enough to make my stomach tighten. Out here, without the drag of the water, its speed was terrifying with each movement sharper, deadlier.
My Aura flared as the barb grazed me through my armor, the impact rattling my bones but sparing me from being skewered. Pain shot through my ribs, but I forced myself upright, teeth grit.
"Sam!" Ilia's voice cut across the chaos. I snapped my gaze to her just as she cracked her whip against its side, sparks trailing off the length of it. She'd stepped wide to avoid a pincer grab, her stance was low and ready.
"Stinger first. Follow my lead!"
[Ability Slot 2]
[Desperation]
[Desperation — Physical Stats set to Rare.]
I gave a sharp nod, as I dropped the armor to conserve energy. The Deathstalker twitched, its now healed eye glowing faintly as its pincers dug furrows into the sand, as if waiting for our move.
"Alright," I muttered, setting my stance, "let's clip your tail."
The Sunpiercer shrieked, mandibles clacking, and its stinger snapped forward like a spear fired from a cannon.
I twisted aside with the sand biting into my face as the barb whistled past.
CRACK!
I swung just as it recoiled, my open palm meeting the stinger's base. A jagged white line spiderwebbed across the bony carapace.
Its roar shook the air.
"Over here!" Ilia barked, voice sharp despite the strain. She darted in, whip snapping bright arcs, baiting one massive pincer to slam sideways at her. The other gouged into the sand at my feet, the impact blasting grit into my eyes and teeth.
I snarled, muscles locking as I caught the next strike mid-lunge. My aura flared on impact, sparking under the crushing weight. Every bone in my arms screamed, but I held.
Ilia moved like lightning, her whip collapsing into a crackling blade. With a savage slash she struck the stinger base's fracture—sparks dancing across white chitin.
Fuck it. This was enough!
"RRRRAAAAAAAHHHHHH!" The roar tore from my throat as I dropped low, coiling like a spring. My arms clamped down on the stinger, legs locking tight. Then I spun, like a human equivalent of a death roll, twisting with every ounce of weight and fury I had.
The sound was a sharp, final— CRACK.
The Grimm shrieked, a horrible metallic screech as its tail convulsed.
And with the echo of a tree snapping in half, the golden stinger wrenched free in my grip.
I staggered back, chest heaving, the massive weapon still clutched in my hands before it dissolved into black smoke. Sand hissed around us as the Sunpiercer reeled, black smoke pouring from the ruined stump of its tail.
"Sam!"
I snapped to Ilia—she was pointing, eyes wide but smiling. My gaze followed her hand.
The tail wasn't growing back.
It wasn't growing back!
My eyes darted to Ilia's weapon—her blade.
"Ilia!" She froze, staring at me.
"Stab it! I'll follow through!"
Her expression hardened into understanding. She nodded once, sharp and certain.
Ilia sprinted at me, and I crouched low, both palms open toward the sky. She leapt, feet landing in my hands, and I heaved her upward. She spun in the air, blade catching the desert sun, sparking like a dust storm in the wind.
"HAH!"
The strike rang like a bell, burying itself hilt-deep into the Grimm's carapace. The Sunpiercer shrieked, convulsing as Ilia rolled away, stumbling into the sand.
My turn.
I lunged, Desperation burning in my muscles, lightning crawling across my arms. I threw my fist, charged with every ounce of power I had left. The punch struck home, driving Ilia's blade deeper until it vanished in blackened flesh.
My vision turned white and for a moment I couldn't hear anything.
Then the world exploded around me as Lightning Lash overloaded, tossing me like a ragdoll. My ears rang and my lungs burned, as I clawed my out of the sand I was in.
I saw that a crater steamed where the Sunpiercer had stood. A single pincer twitched, then dissolved into black smoke.
I let out a ragged groan of relief. It was over. It had to be.
"Sam! We did it!" Ilia's voice cracked with joy.
I turned. She was running to me, hair blazing golden with her grin.
"We did, didn't we?" I managed, forcing myself upright.
I turned to the corner of my vision to open up the notification for beating the damned thing. A feat worthy of a roll!
…But nothing appeared. That was…odd.
The sands shifted beneath my feet as my stomach dropped.
No.
I then felt the world slow to a crawl.
I opened my mouth to scream, but my lips wouldn't move fast enough.
Her smile faltered as the sand beneath her erupted.
I saw how Sunpiercer surged upward.
And I saw how it swallowed her from the ground up in a single strike.
My insides froze as my knees buckled into the sand.
That thing chittered when it landed, its mandibles clicking like laughter, as if savoring the ugly despair rotting in my gut.
My arms trembled, heavy with exhaustion and dread, as the bastard that had eaten Ilia crawled toward me. It didn't even pounce or charge. Just a slow, deliberate approach.
It knew. It knew I was done.
It had even faked its death. Tore its own damn pincer like a crab just to fool us and get a breather.
The scorpion raised its remaining claw, slow and theatrical, as if savoring the end. Its shadow spread over me as the pincer opened wide around my form. I locked eyes with it—my burning red hatred against bottomless black voids.
Then—
A spark.
A glint caught my eye in the sand.
Lightning Lash. Or what was left of it.
Its casing cracked, blade missing… but still humming. It was still alive and a faint yellow gleam pulsed from the exposed Dust crystal, crackling defiantly.
…Even her weapon hadn't given up.
So why the fuck was I assuming Ilia's gone?
I clenched my teeth with rage boiling over despair.
What the fuck am I doing moping here!? Who the hell does this fucker think we are!?
The pincer descended as I was sure of my hastily made rescue plan. I dove, sand kicking up around me, my hands closing around the broken hilt just as air was ripped from my lungs by the claw's closing snap.
I roared as Dust surged through me, gold and crackling yellow weaving into my veins. Golem-armor flared to life, plates of yellow earthen light locking across my body as my muscles swelled with borrowed strength.
The claw pressed down—And I caught it.
My aura screamed as I forced my arms wide, the Grimm shrieking as sparks danced across its carapace. My hands clapped together with a violent crack—
And a stream of lightning exploded into existence between my palms.
In my anger I commanded Lightning Channel to surge down my arms and into the pincer, flooding the beast with raw fury. It howled, convulsing, its mandibles flaring open in a screech of pain.
That was my chance.
"IF YOU LIKE EATING SO MUCH THEN CHOKE ON THIS, YOU PIECE OF SHIT!"
I dove headlong straight into its open maw and into the black with lightning roaring at my back.
[Desperation — Physical Stats set to Epic.]
Feat Achieved!
Unlocked your Semblance!
+1 Silver Trait Gacha Ticket
The heavy footfalls of a lone Terror Bird pounded across the dunes—only for its head to burst like a melon, blown clean off by a single shot. The beast staggered, then collapsed into the sand before its body dissolved into smoke.
"And that's all she wrote. Oof…" Claire groaned, dropping onto the sand with a graceless thud. Her desert uniform was shredded but still held together enough to keep her decent.
"Uuuugh, captain. Request for leave?" muttered Slinger, pistols smoking beside him as he sprawled out flat on his back.
"Granted. Including me." Wolf replied, dragging a sweaty palm down her face before tying her matted hair back into a tight ponytail.
"Guys, I don't see Mimic anywhere." Smithy, the lion Faunus, shielded his eyes with one hand, squinting for so much as a corpse or a scrap of their traitor's hide.
"Eh, probably got eaten. Shame. He was really good bait." Whisper shrugged, peeling off her desert robe and leaving herself in a tank top. She popped open her weapon's umbrella mode, shading herself from the sun. "So what now, sis? Should we back Sam up? We could both give Ilia a piece of our mind while we're at it."
…
"Sis? Captain?" Whisper blinked as she realized Wolf hadn't answered. She turned—and froze when she saw her sister staring at the horizon, slack-jawed.
"Hey, Wolf! What's—"
Then she saw it too.
At first it was only flickers, like sparks, or maybe golden flashes, lighting up a single point in the distance.
"Is that—"
The words died in her throat as the desert shook.
An explosion tore across the horizon, blindingly bright, impossibly loud. The shockwave slammed into them, forcing every single one of them to dive flat to the ground.
"WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT!?" Slinger screamed, clapping his hands over his ears as they all eventually scrambled back onto unsteady legs as the quake subsided.
None of them answered.
They were too busy staring.
A mushroom cloud loomed high into the sky, its shadow swallowing the desert whole. And at its base…a golden glow that burned so bright it could have been mistaken for a second sun.
The squad stood in silence, the awe in their faces bordering on reverence because to them…it was.
…
"I can't believe you lost your virginity to a god."
"I know, right!?"
Meanwhile, at Kuo Kuana—
"GHIRA!"
Sienna Khan's voice cracked like a whip as she slammed open the chieftain's door, storming in with neither greeting nor courtesy. Two operatives flanked her, silent but tense, their eyes darting as if expecting an attack at any moment. Beads of sweat trailed down her temple, betraying the strain she fought to hide.
Inside, Ghira Belladonna sat at the kitchen table as though nothing in the world could trouble him. A heavy porcelain mug steamed in his massive hand, and he took a long, noisy sip that seemed deliberately unhurried.
Across the room, Kali Belladonna was bowed low on a woven rug of ceremonial pattern, whispering prayers in front of an idol, its carved wooden face worn smooth with age, crowned by curling antlers that caught the flickering light.
"Did you see it!?" Sienna snapped, her voice ragged.
Ghira remained calm. Another sip, slower this time. The sound grated at her nerves like nails on glass.
"Ghira, dear," Kali chided softly without lifting her head. "I'm praying."
"Ah—my apologies, love." Ghira's rumble was gentle as he set down the mug, then raised his eyes to Sienna with a calm that was almost unbearable. "But yes. I saw it. I wouldn't be surprised if there isn't a soul on Menagerie who didn't see it, felt the shock in their bones. Perhaps even the borders of Mistral caught sight of it."
Sienna's breath hitched. Her voice stuttered despite her will. "T-Then that means—"
"It means," Ghira interrupted, rising to his full height. His shadow stretched long across the floor, swallowing hers whole. "That he must face the Judgement of the Faunus. Are you afraid, Khan?"
Sienna faltered a step back.
"Hmph. Are you afraid, Ghira?"
His amber eyes glinted, calm as still water. "Of course I am. The difference is—" his tone deepened, as if the walls themselves leaned closer to hear, "—I am willing to die for the Faunus of Menagerie. …Are you, Sienna?"
Her mask cracked. The lump in her throat betrayed her, and she turned away too quickly. "Tch… Just see that your Guard is prepared. I'll… consult with the Albain brothers."
"I already have prepared them," Ghira replied, matter-of-fact, as he sat once more.
Sienna stiffened, then stalked off without another word, her operatives scrambling to keep pace as the door slammed behind her.
For a moment, silence lingered. Only the soft murmur of Kali's prayers filled the air. Finally, she raised her head, her eyes warm and faintly shining.
"He's returned to us, Ghira," she whispered. "Does that make you happy?"
Ghira smiled faintly, the weight of years in his gaze. "Overjoyed, my dear."
"FUCK!" Adam Taurus roared, sweeping his arms across the table. Papers, weapons, and half-finished reports clattered to the floor, scattering like frightened animals.
"This can't be happening!" His voice cracked with fury. The image in his mind wasn't the White Fang's revolution—it was that thing in the desert. That science reject, glowing like a lamp in the dark.
The damned S.D.C. experiment had become a beacon. Nearly half his Menagerie branch had quit after seeing it unleash that explosion—calling it a divine judgment, claiming it was proof of a god who favored humans as well as faunus and spared only those with mercy in their hearts.
Idiots. Cowards. Weaklings.
He told himself the Vale branch would be different. His branch wouldn't be shaken by superstition, wouldn't be seduced by propaganda dressed in miracles. They were loyal, disciplined. And with them, he would prove their revolution unstoppable.
All he needed was a foothold. Just one.
Blake, however, leaned quietly against the doorframe, letting him rant until the storm burned out. To her, his tantrum wasn't frightening—it was familiar. Predictable.
Where Adam saw evil, Blake saw opportunity.
She'd known Sam was different the moment she'd stumbled across him, passed out in the jungle. And now? In less than a week, he had proven himself more than extraordinary. Unbelievable feats that Adam couldn't even begin to imagine.
To Blake, Sam wasn't a threat. He was a chance. Maybe—just maybe—he could show the world that Faunus were just as equal to humans. He could be the bridge they needed.
And if he owed her a favor, well… all the better.
She glanced both ways down the hall, making sure no one was watching, before flicking open her Scroll.
"Miss you so much! Wish you were here, Cat." — W
Attached was a photo.
A very tired, very smug wolf faunus threw a peace sign at the camera, sprawled across a very familiar bare chest. Nestled beside her, a chameleon faunus with flushed cheeks clung tightly, smiling in her sleep.
Blake's chest tightened. Her stomach dropped.
She was supposed to be the volunteer, not Ilia.
The thought came unbidden, sharp as a knife. She forced it away, jaw tightening.
No. Ilia had done well. Better than well. She had represented the White Fang with everything Blake could've asked for. And Blake had been unavailable—someone had to step up. She'd been stuck pulling late-night inventory duty. That was her choice.
Yes. Her choice.
She should be grateful. She was grateful.
She totally wasn't coping or anything!
Ilia opened her eyes…only to immediately squeeze them shut again as a blinding golden light seared her vision.
…Was this it?
Did she die?
Was this heaven, like in those old stories her parents used to whisper to her as a child?
"Ilia."
Her heart skipped. That voice—
Sam?
Had he died too?
That… was a shame. But at least she wouldn't be alone here. Maybe she could even introduce him to her parents. Or—hah—maybe Sam could introduce her to his. Did Sam even have parents?
"Ilia."
This time, she dared to open her eyes.
The golden glare had softened, fading into the sight of a glowing figure standing over her. Sam—his shark-like features limned in light, crimson eyes filled with worry. His fist was still raised skyward, dust crystals scattering like sparks into the wind. Then, slowly, gently, he lowered it… and cupped her cheek with a warm hand.
"God…" she whispered, dazed.
"No," he said softly, "you're not dead yet."
He lifted her effortlessly into his arms, carrying her as he waded across the bubbling black tar of a rapidly growing Grimm Pool.
"I meant—" She chuckled weakly, shaking her head at his obliviousness. "Forget it." He still hadn't figured it out. It was cute.
"You beat it? Sunpiercer?"
"We did." His tone was steady, but there was relief there too. "I'd like to see it regenerate from that. What about you? Injuries?"
"Just tired," she admitted, voice low. "And… probably a few cracked ribs."
Sam's jaw tightened, but his touch stayed gentle as he climbed out of the crater. "Can't your Aura handle it?"
"It can," she said with a small groan. "But that bastard drained me dry. I just need rest."
At the top, he paused, gaze sweeping across the barren expanse. Then his brows furrowed in thought. "Let me try something."
Before she could ask, he pressed his palm lightly against her chest. The touch was warm—comforting, grounding despite the desert heat. Then, suddenly, golden light bloomed around her, flowing into her bones. She gasped as her Aura surged back, her ribs knitting together with a faint crackle of pain and relief.
Her wide eyes darted to him. His glow was fading.
"Did you just—amplify my Aura?" she breathed.
"No. Not amplify," he murmured, pulling his hand away—though she found herself missing the warmth already. "I… connected mine to yours and… shared the extra? It's hard to explain."
Her lips curled into a small, honest smile. "You're weird."
He arched a brow.
"A good type of weird," she clarified quickly, cheeks warming.
That smirk of his, the one that always made her stomach flip, answered her.
"You can put me down now," she protested half-heartedly. "I'm not having you walk the whole way carrying me."
He chuckled like she'd told a joke. "I have a better idea."
"Chaff," he said suddenly.
"Who's Cha—"
The growl of an engine cut her off. Her head snapped around just as an absurdly luxurious limousine materialized, gliding across the dunes. It made even Atlas' finest look like junkyard scraps.
Ilia blinked. Honestly, she should've been surprised… but this was the same man who had once conjured a watermelon out of nowhere. She was… getting used to it.
Sam opened the door. A rush of cool, conditioned air swept over her, heavenly against her overheated skin. He set her gently into the plush leather seats, the softest thing she'd ever sat on, then slid in beside her, keeping close, like he was afraid she might vanish if he let go.
"Chaff. Any issues with the sand?" Sam asked evenly.
From the driver's seat, a construct turned its head. It was shaped like him, like his golem armor, and shook its head silently.
"Good. Head for that facility over there, please."
The construct gave a crisp salute before the limo purred forward, smooth as if it were gliding over polished stone instead of desert.
Ilia leaned into Sam's shoulder, savoring the silence, until he finally broke it.
"Hey, Ilia."
"Yes, Sam?"
"I just realized—I don't actually know a single thing about you. Not really. Just your time at Atlas."
She chuckled. "I could say the same about you."
"Fair point. Uh… what's your last name?"
That earned him a giggle. "Amitola."
He repeated it softly, rolling it on his tongue. "Amitola… That's a beautiful last name."
Her cheeks warmed. "Well, I think your last name is pretty cool too."
"Really?" He laughed. "I always thought it was corny as hell."
She shook her head, her hair brushing his shoulder. "Nope. I think it's cool."
His smile softened.
"After this," he said quietly, "I want to get to know you better. If… that's okay with you?"
Her giggle was shy this time, but genuine. "I'd like that…"
*Edited the Jackpot Semblance, Sam's self pep talk, and Blake's out of character thoughts.
My fic got mentioned in the Discord plus a few prominent authors liked the last chapter and I've been riding that high ever since. Thank you so much for giving me your amazing ideas and your attention!
Also, I wonder how many of you did I piss off by skipping a smut scene? For real though, I kind of lost my confidence in writing them but there will be some in this fic when I gain it back. Trust.
P.S. Can someone scale each kingdom to how racist you think they are towards Faunus?
P.P.S. Here's my Ko-fi. It's empty. You can support me if you want. I don't believe in gatekeeping words.
https://ko-fi.com/aeneidsleepLast edited: Aug 27, 2025 Like Quote ReplyReport Reactions:Rhaid, Darkstep, Eniotna and 1,049 others