Deep within the fractured architecture of Will's mind, in a place untouched by his conscious self, Lust wandered.
This was the Neutco. A psychic junkyard of forgotten memories and repressed experiences.
She was desperate. A queen without a crown, a soul without a story. Her past was a locked vault hidden somewhere in this chaos, and she was hunting for the key. She needed more time.
A whisper echoed through the realm. A memory not her own. *Greed's* memory.
She seized it, using it as a listening post, a secret window to the outside world. She sifted through the psychic noise, hunting, always hunting, for the echoes of the person she used to be.
Every fragmented sensation, every forgotten emotion, was a piece of herself she was desperate to reclaim.
---
Outside, in the real world, the trio stood at Will's door.
The knock had gone unanswered.
Love exchanged a worried glance with Quilt. Amulet simply stared at the door, his head tilted as if listening to a frequency the others couldn't hear.
"Will?" Love called out, her voice laced with concern. "Are you in there? It's us."
Silence.
Then, the door creaked open, not by a hand, but as if pushed by a sudden, internal pressure.
The interior was dark.
Standing in the foyer was… Will. But it wasn't him. His posture was all wrong—too languid, too confident. A predator wearing the skin of their friend.
His eyes, usually warm and hesitant, now glowed with a faint, unsettling light. They settled on Love.
"Well, well," a voice that was Will's, yet wasn't, purred from his lips. It was layered, seductive, and cold. "Look what the cat dragged in. And you brought friends. How… thoughtful."
Love took a step forward, her body tense. "Will? What's going on? Talk to us."
"Will is… otherwise engaged," the thing inside him said, a smirk playing on his lips. It was a mockery of his usual smile. "You can call me Lust. It's a pleasure, truly."
Inside Will's mind, Lust's hunt through Greed's memories finally struck gold. A shard of her past—raw, powerful, and utterly intoxicating—surged into her.
The power was immense. It was time.
*Enough waiting.*
In the real world, Will's body suddenly stiffened. His head snapped back, back arching as a wave of visible, Pink energy erupted from him.
The front door didn't just open. It vaporized.
The psychic blast hit Love like a freight train. There was no time to react. One moment she was standing in the doorway, the next she was hurled across the street, crashing into the opposite curb with a sickening thud.
"LOVE!" Quilt screamed, rushing forward.
But he was stopped by the figure now standing in the ruins of the doorway.
Will's body stood tall, radiating an aura of arrogant power. The air around him shimmered with heat haze. He cracked his neck, a sound like grinding stone.
"Ahhh," Lust sighed through Will's mouth, the voice now a thunderous echo. "That's better. Now I'm at my best."
She grinned, a terrifying sight on Will's gentle face.
"Your little attacks will mean nothing now. I've been nesting in this body for nine days. I've been growing stronger every second. This vessel is *mine*."
Love pushed herself up, her body aching. She spat blood onto the asphalt and stood, her stance steadying into something fierce and unyielding.
"Get out of him," she commanded, her voice low and deadly. "Stop now, or die trying."
Lust threw her head back and laughed, a dark, cruel sound.
"*Giving up*? That's not an option. Not anymore. I've seen it… I've seen my past through Greed's memories. Everything I lost. Everything I was! I won't let it go. Not for you. Not for anyone. Why didn't do this since? Instead of causing and wrecking havoc. Although I would be like this guy here. She points at Amulet, it wouldn't be no fun.
Quilt, his voice trembling, stepped between them, hands raised in a plea.
"Please! Stop this! No more fighting! That's our friend! Can't you see you're hurting him?"
Lust's gaze—Will's gaze—snapped to Quilt. A cruel light flickered within it.
"The pacifist. How… tedious."
Will's face began to warp and shimmer. The features melted, rearranged, and solidified into a new, horrifyingly familiar face.
A woman with kind eyes and a soft smile. *Lucy.* Quilt's crush.
The psychic illusion was perfect. The voice that came out was hers, too.
"Don't you love me anymore?"
Quilt's breath hitched. All the color drained from his face. His spirit shattered. He fell to his knees, utterly broken.
"No… please…" he whispered.
The illusion vanished, replaced by Lust's vicious sneer.
"You're useless. A waste of space."
A blade of condensed purple energy materialized in Will's hand. She lunged at the defenseless Quilt.
"You're better off dead than in my way!"
Love moved in a blur of motion. She didn't scream. She didn't yell. She simply placed herself between the blade and Quilt, one hand outstretched.
A torrent of pure, blue energy erupted from her palm, meeting Lust's blade in a concussive blast of light and sound.
The force of the impact bruised Lust's shoulder, spinning her around. But she just laughed, shaking it off. The bruises shimmered and vanished, healing in seconds.
"Is that all?" Lust taunted.
The battle turned brutal.
No more energy blasts. This was primal. Fists met fists. Lust's punches were hammer blows, cracking into Love's face and driving into her gut, driving her back step by painful step.
But Love wouldn't fall. She wouldn't give up.
"There's… more…" Love gasped, spitting blood as she blocked a strike aimed at her throat. "There's more power inside me. I haven't… unlocked it yet…"
She caught Lust's next punch, her hand trembling with the effort.
"But this… is enough!"
Lust just laughed, shoving her back. "You cling to hope like a child! I don't plan to lose today!"
The clash raged—a storm of flying sparks and crashing blows. Lust fighting with the desperate fury of someone reclaiming her very soul. Love fighting with the fierce, unbreakable will to protect the boy she loved and the future they might have.
Love began to adapt. She ducked under a wild swing, landing a fierce blow to Lust's ribs. Then another to her jaw. The raw, hand-to-hand combat was turning bloody, and Love was gaining the upper hand.
Lust staggered back, breathing heavily. A trickle of blood—*Will's* blood—dripped from his lip.
She smiled. A terrifying, accepting smile.
"Fine," she hissed. "You want a real fight?"
The air beside her shimmered. And then, she was holding them.
Twin battle axes, massive and brutal, forged from dark, psychic metal and wreathed in psychic energy. They looked impossibly heavy.
Love didn't hesitate. She crossed her arms, and Ocean blue light flared between her hands. When she pulled them apart, she held a double-edged sickle, its blade glowing with pure energy.
Lust swung first. The axes moved with deadly, impossible mastery, a whirlwind of destruction.
*CLANG!*
Love met the blow, her smaller sickle locking against the massive axehead. The force vibrated up her arms.
She became a dancer of death, dodging, weaving, parrying every heavy strike. The fight was no longer a brawl; it was a tight, dynamic, and deadly duel.
Above it all, Amulet floated silently, cross-legged in mid-air. His expression was one of detached, academic interest, as if observing a fascinating experiment.
On the ground, Quilt could only stare, wide-eyed, at the unreal, terrifying scene. His world had been shattered. Magic was real. Monsters were real. And they were wearing his best friend's face.
His voice was a hoarse whisper, drowned out by the clash of weapons.
"Who… who are you really?"
Amulet's voice, calm and clear, cut through the noise directly into Quilt's mind.
*{You should not be here. Go home. Now.}*
But the curiosity burned brighter than the fear. He had to know. He shouted over the din, his voice breaking.
"What are all of you?!"