The moment Blink's fingertip pressed [ACCEPT], the contract dissolved.
Silver light poured outward, the System's glyphs unraveling into sparks that drifted like ash in reverse, pulled not down but into her chest. Each symbol sank into her skin, vanishing into the steady rhythm of her heartbeat.
A chime sounded in the Trader's mind:
[TRADE SEALED]
[ABILITY COPY ACQUIRED — MUTANT: SPATIAL WARPING (BLINK)]
[LEGACY UNBINDING ACTIVATED]
A new thread joined his ledger — neat, efficient, valuable. He could already feel the reflection of Blink's portals sitting quietly in his arsenal, another weapon, another bargaining chip. But his eyes did not linger inward.
Because Blink was already collapsing.
Her body shook violently, energy tearing through her veins like lightning in glass. Veins glowed lilac-silver under her skin, her magenta hair whipping around her face as if a storm had been caged inside her. She clutched at the grass, her throat tight with a strangled cry.
Rogue stepped forward instinctively. "Clarice—!"
"Don't," the Trader cut in, calm and sharp. "This is the process."
He remembered Harry crumpling the same way — body cannibalizing itself, burning life-force to fuel evolution. Back then, it had nearly killed the boy. Legacy Unbinding was a catalyst, not a fuel source. Without help, the subject would hollow themselves dry.
But the Trader was prepared.
From the folds of his cloak, he summoned a small crystal orb. Inside, silver liquid swirled lazily, like molten starlight caught in glass. An energy bag — prepared in advance.
He let the orb hover in his palm. Silver filaments unraveled from it and sank into Blink's chest, feeding the starving mutation. Her convulsions steadied as the energy filled her, knitting the gaps the awakening demanded.
But suddenly something unexpected happened.
Silver-violet spatial force burst out of her skin in a shockwave. The air around her warped, cracked, bent as if the pocket dimension itself were struggling to hold her. And with it, her clothes — fragile, human cloth — were the first to surrender.
Her shirt split with a humiliating rip, neckline tearing open down the center. Threads snapped in rapid succession until cotton sagged and fell away, strips clinging briefly to her arms before sliding to the grass.
Her bra — simple, light purple, the same hue as her panties — strained against the sudden swell of her chest. Straps bit deep into her shoulders before snapping with a sharp twang. The cups tore apart, breasts bouncing free, nipples flushed dark and stiff under the merciless glow.
Her baggy shorts followed. The waistband cinched as her hips subtly widened, her thighs rounding. The button popped, seams split, and the fabric gave way in ragged strips, exposing her last fragile barrier — a matching set of panties.
They lasted seconds. Elastic recoiled, fabric tore in two, and the panties fluttered down in ribbons.
Blink stood trembling, stripped bare in the glow of her own evolution.
Her scream tore out, panicked and raw. "Ah—!"
She dropped into a crouch, arms snapping over her chest, one hand dragging down to cover the raw heat of her sex. But instinct betrayed her: as she twisted, the glow lit her body in merciless detail.
Her lilac skin shone like polished stone, flawless and smooth, every feminine curve thrown into cruel clarity. Her breasts — full, firm C-cups — quivered with every ragged breath, nipples jutting stiff, aching, too sensitive to hide. Her stomach drew taut, faint ridges surfacing under satin skin. Her hips flared sharper, thighs clamping tight — but the pose only deepened the sleek lines of her legs and the soft dip of her pelvis.
The glow lingered cruel on her rear — high, round, sculpted into a perfect arc. Each frantic shift made the muscles flex beneath skin, dimples flashing, then smoothing, as though taunting anyone who looked.
And lower still — the cruelest truth of all. She was utterly bare. Shaved smooth, her mound gleamed faintly under the light. Every squeeze of her thighs only framed it sharper, humiliation and allure tangled beyond concealment.
----
Nova froze, lungs locking, heart hammering so hard it rattled in his ribs.
Blink knelt trembling, stripped bare, every curve lit up by her own glow. Her breasts strained against her arms, nipples dark and sharp, so hard he swore he could feel the ache just looking. Her thighs pressed tight, but the tilt of her hips made the gleam of her bare sex tease through anyway. Her ass — high, full, mercilessly sculpted — caught the violet light like a spotlight crafted just to break him.
His throat went dry. Heat slammed down his spine, pooling thick in his cock until it throbbed against his cloak.
No. No fucking way.
He blinked once. Twice. The scene didn't change. Her shredded bra and panties still lay scattered in tatters, circling her like a halo of ruined modesty.
A half-crazed laugh almost slipped out. What the hell is this? Am I living in some damn ecchi anime?
The thought spiraled sharper, bitterer: Did the universe cast me as some knockoff Issie Hyoudou?
And that's when memory hit — unbidden, traitorous. Wanda, sprawled across her sheets. Bra straps slipping down pale shoulders, heavy tits cupped in black lace that begged to be mouthed. Her sleepy breath. Her soft curve lit only for him. That had been bad enough.
Now this? Blink stripped naked mid-transformation, glowing like a goddess, trembling between humiliation and allure?
This is Marvel, he reminded himself savagely. Not High School DxD. And I'm sure as hell not Issei Hyoudou.
But his cock twitched anyway, hot and heavy. Fantasies broke through no matter how hard he clenched his teeth — her thighs locked around his waist, her cries bouncing against the pocket walls, her nipples dragging across his chest as she writhed under him.
He sucked in a harsh breath, jaw tight.
"…What the actual fuck is goin' on with my luck?" he muttered under his hood, dazed, horny, furious all at once.
----
Rogue hadn't meant to stare. God knew she shouldn't. But her eyes stuck like glue, refusing to move.
The glow painted Blink's body in cruel detail. Her waist pinched narrow, hips flaring wide, breasts rising and falling with sharp little gasps, nipples jutting hard in the silver light. Her thighs clamped together, trembling, framing the smooth gleam between them no matter how much she tried to hide. And her ass — lord have mercy — high, round, curved so perfect it looked like it'd been sculpted, every faint flex of muscle dimpling and smoothing again, daring anyone to keep looking.
Rogue's throat went dry. She dragged her eyes up, forced herself to focus on the glow, the grass, anything else — but they betrayed her, sliding right back down to that glowing curve, to the gleam of bare sex framed between tight thighs.
"Good lord…" she whispered under her breath, heat crawling up her cheeks.
Her arms folded hard across her chest, like pinning herself in place would save her. "I'm straight," she hissed low, fierce, desperate. "Always have been. Broad shoulders, deep voices, big hands that can toss me around. And big cocks. Especially big cocks. That's my type. Always has been."
The words rang hollow, even to her.
Her gaze slipped down again, hungry. Her jaw clenched. "…Not some lilac ass sittin' there glowin' like sin on a silver plate."
Her mutter got hotter, sharper, as if scolding herself. "I ain't imaginin'. I sure as hell ain't picturin' grabbin' a handful of that and squeezin'… or watchin' her squirm after a good smack."
But the image hit anyway. Vivid. Blink bent forward, glowing skin stretched, her perfect ass arched high, pussy wet and glistening in the violet light.
Rogue's thighs pressed together unconsciously, heat curling low. She hissed through her teeth. "Christ almighty. I sound like some drunk frat boy with a dirty mag."
She shut her eyes, palm pressing to her forehead, but that only sharpened the pictures. Her breath caught, chest rising hard.
A groan clawed its way out of her throat. "Nope. Nope. I'm straight. I like men. I like big dicks. Always have. Blink's bare ass ain't changin' nothin'. Not today. Not ever. …Goddamn it."
Her eyes snapped open — and betrayed her anyway, sliding down hungrily, her denial ringing hollower with every mutter.
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CHAPTER:- [112- SUPREME ELEMENT] IS AVAILABLE ON MY P@TREON