Rollo didn't know if he was alive or already decomposing in a digital afterlife.
The world hammered him with too many sensations to process: his vision was a negative image, white veins popping over black static; his skin was an open wound, every nerve stripped raw and humming; his cock—his cocks—were both hard, leaking, and alive with a pressure that threatened to burst them from his body like roots from a split log. He couldn't move, not really. Kami was on him, grinding so hard he thought she might grind him straight through the slab, but every time she came, a jolt went up his spine and split his mind further from reality.
He wanted to die. But he was pretty sure that was just another step in her plan.
Kami's hips bucked, then stilled. Her hands pressed into his shoulders, palms glowing, fingers leaving bright blue afterimages every time she flexed. Her thighs straddled his waist, ink-black at first but then shot through with burning glyphs, the marks racing up to her hips in a latticework of alien circuitry. Each glyph pulsed in rhythm with her clenching around him—a bioluminescent Morse code that spelled out the word: MINE.
She bent low, white hair whipping Rollo's face like cold wires. Her lips found his ear, her breath a freezing mist that made his teeth hurt. When she spoke, the words cut more than any blade:
"You're mine. My perfect creation. My weapon. My seed."
He tried to reply, but he was busy drooling on his own chest.
Kami's eyes weren't lustful anymore. They were wide, unblinking, manic—like a cult leader watching the comet finally come. Her face was streaked with sweat and glowing blood, her lips smeared blue where she'd bitten him again and again. She raked her nails down his chest, peeling up lines of tattoo and skin, then squeezed both of his cocks together with one unmerciful fist. The pleasure was nuclear, but the pain spiked higher.
Rollo screamed, or tried to. It came out as a static burst.
[🔔 SYSTEM OVERRIDE: SHADOWLINE BREEDING 76%]
[BIO MODIFICATION: UNSTABLE]
[KAMI SYNC: 39%]
He felt it in his bones: the system was straining. If he'd had any say, he would've shut down, maybe rebooted in safe mode. But Kami wasn't done with him. She angled her hips, then rode both cocks at once—one split her down the center, the other ground against her from behind, into a slit of blue-lit flesh that hadn't been there before.
He was being milked. And he couldn't even move his hands to stop her.
She kept talking, voice low but wild:
"None of them could take it. None of them lasted past the third cycle. But you… you adapt. You fucking thrive." She slammed down, hard enough to bruise his pelvis. "That's why he's coming. He wants to break you, but he won't. He can't. You're perfect."
He had no idea who "he" was, but the way Kami said it made it sound like Judgment Day was about to have a one-night stand with Hell.
The room flashed red. Not the usual system message, but a real, physical light, pulsing from the walls and the floor and even the air itself. An alarm, urgent and alive.
Kami stopped riding him. For one sick, hopeful second, he thought it was over. But then she arched her back and howled—a sound of rage and warning that had nothing sexual about it. She spun on his lap, planting her feet, head up, arms spread wide.
The wall exploded.
The thing that came through wasn't human. It was the shape of a man—tall, seven feet at least, shoulders wide enough to block the corridor behind him—but the skin was blue-tinged steel, armored with layer on layer of living metal, every seam leaking red light. Silver dreadlocks, thick as rebar, hung from his skull down to the small of his back. His face was blunt, jagged, lips pulled back in a permanent sneer. Where the eyes should be, there were twin red LEDs, blazing with hate.
He carried a sword, but calling it a sword was like calling a flamethrower a lighter. The blade was the length of a car door, etched with fractal runes, every edge vibrating with energy. It hummed, angry and alive.
Rollo pissed himself. He was pretty sure that was normal.
The man pointed the blade at Kami.
"You broke the law of bond-seed," he said, voice like a jet engine full of broken glass. "You weren't supposed to breed him."
Kami spat, still perched on Rollo's twitching hips. "Fuck off, Lucian. You never even understood what I was doing."
"You made him wrong," Lucian said, stepping forward, feet cracking the glasslike floor with every stride. "You made him for you. That's not the way."
"It's the only way," Kami snapped, "if you don't want another generation of clones."
Lucian bared his teeth. "You're defective. Always have been."
She growled—no other word for it—and flexed her thighs tighter around Rollo's waist. He gasped as she started fucking him again, slow and mean, eyes never leaving Lucian's.
Rollo wanted to say something, to scream for help or at least ask for a towel. But the system was locking him down, pumping him full of hormones and static, keeping him right on the edge of orgasm and blackout.
Lucian raised the sword, tip pointed at Kami's throat. "Get off him," he said. "Or I kill you both."
Kami grinned, showing bloody teeth. "Try it."
Lucian charged.
Time slowed.
Lucian moved in a blur, sword humming through the air. Kami's hands shot out, both palms glowing with molten pink and black, and blasted twin beams of energy at his chest. Lucian twisted, took one hit on the armored shoulder, shrugged off the other. The sword arced down, so close Rollo could feel the heat singe his cheek.
Kami screamed, rolling off Rollo and onto all fours, then backflipped over the bed, landing catlike on the far side. She waved a hand, and a sheet of glass shot up from the floor, blocking Lucian's next swing.
The sword didn't care. It sliced through the barrier, sending fragments everywhere.
Rollo tried to crawl away, but his body wasn't obeying. The only thing that moved was his heart, which hammered so hard it threatened to split his ribs. He watched as Kami and Lucian circled, trading energy blasts and sword strikes, each hit knocking pieces off the walls, the bed, the floor. The whole room shook.
[🔔 SYSTEM ALERT: KAMI SYNC OVERLOADED]
[BIO CORE CORRUPTION IMMINENT]
He felt it. Kami was draining fast. Every time she hit Lucian with a pulse, her skin dimmed, the glyphs on her body flickering out, one by one. She ducked under a swing, then dove back onto the bed, straddling Rollo's hips again, burying both cocks inside her in one desperate motion.
She looked down at him, eyes wide and wild.
"Help me," she hissed, slamming her mouth to his.
Rollo felt something sharp jam into his tongue—her fang, or maybe an injector—and the world went neon. Energy exploded out from his spine, flooding the tattoos and the veins and both cocks at once. It spilled into Kami, up her stomach, down her arms, lighting her up like a living grenade.
Lucian was on them in a second. He grabbed Kami by the hair, yanked her off Rollo, and pinned her to the bed. The sword tip went to her throat.
"You made him a battery," Lucian said, almost laughing. "How long did you think you could keep draining him before it killed you?"
Kami spat in his face. "Long enough."
Lucian pressed the blade into her neck. The skin broke, oozing violet blood.
Rollo watched, helpless. He wanted to move, to scream, but all he could do was stare as the sword dug deeper, Kami's body stiffening with pain.
"You were never going to win," Lucian whispered. "Just give up."
Kami turned her head, locking eyes with Rollo. "Don't let him take you," she said. "You're not like him. You're not a fucking slave."
Rollo tried to nod. He really did. But the world was fuzzing out, edges bleeding together.
Lucian twisted the sword, then drove it home. The blade ran through Kami's neck, down her spine, into the mattress and deep into the floor. She gurgled, blood spraying everywhere, her body spasming in a last, furious orgasm.
And then—miracle or curse—she collapsed forward, landing full weight on Rollo, the sword pinning them both to the bed.
Lucian let go. He stepped back, breathing hard, arms slick with her blood.
Rollo looked up. Kami's face was inches from his. She was dying—already dead, maybe—but she managed a smile, blue lips peeling back over perfect teeth.
"You were worth it," she whispered.
Her body sagged, limp and cooling, but still joined to him.
The last thing Rollo saw before the world flickered out was Lucian's eyes, red and hungry, watching him with the same look every foster parent had ever given him: disappointment, mixed with a sick kind of hope.
[SYSTEM FAILURE. CORRUPTION DETECTED.]
[HOST SHUTDOWN IN: 00:00:01]
He blacked out.
He woke up screaming, or maybe he never stopped.
[TO BE CONTINUED]