This was not the sterile, white room where Robert had first been interrogated. This was the center of power. The true Council Chamber.
The room possessed no physical walls. It was a massive, circular platform suspended in infinite nothingness, seemingly right in the center of the universe. Outside, galaxies rotated slowly, nebulae shifted colors, and silent supernovae exploded. In the center of the room stood a massive, crescent-shaped table made of smooth, veinless black obsidian, with seven seats.
And at the table sat the seven Malken Council Members.
They all wore robes similar to the genderless, purple ones Robert had seen before, but each had distinct differences indicating their rank and character. Their faces were hidden in the shadows of deep Malken hoods; only two bright, star-like eyes were visible.
In the center sat the genderless entity whose robes rippled with the light of the galaxies beneath the table. This was the leader of the Council; the entity with no name, known only as "The Overseer." Its voice echoed not from its lips, but directly inside everyone's mind with unquestionable authority.
"The Sun Victory Tournament has concluded. Reports."
To The Overseer's left, the female member in sapphire robes stepped forward. This was Ordis; the Analyst. An endless holographic data stream flowed over her hand. "As expected, Leader Overseer. The Iron Guardians showed a 14% increase in team cohesion with the addition of Normah and Tersan. However... the true anomaly is, as expected, the Red Friends."
"Not anomaly, efficiency," grunted the male member to The Overseer's right, whose robe had a steel-gray, military cut. This was Kratos; the Military Strategist. "Leader Robert's 'modifications' increased the team's total combat potential by at least 340%, according to our initial analyses. The four-winged Vingyu... his zero-point turning capability changes the rules of aerial combat. Tina's focused plasma has the potential to pierce a battleship. This is a military revolution."
"Revolution," whispered the oldest-looking male member sitting at the end of the table in white robes. This was Odin; Head of Science and Technology, and Kefius's mentor. "He was always a revolution. But now, he has begun to manifest the revolution."
The silence grew heavy in the cosmic landscape of the room.
"We are watching his every moment, are we not?" asked The Overseer.
"Every breath," Odin confirmed. "Sleep patterns, REM cycles, time spent in the Bending Machine... He has gone far beyond Kefius's lessons. And yes... as we predicted... he realized it."
The Overseer's bright eyes focused on a galaxy at the other end of the room for a moment. "Realized what?"
"Not the Omnia Codex," Odin said. "That is a later, bigger problem. No... he realized what we left unfinished. 'Project Reflection.' That impossible technology Lilya Ordon mentioned in her final, encrypted notes... the potential of the 'Reactive Perception Matrix'."
The name created an invisible shockwave around the table.
"Impossible," Kratos said. "That technology, 'Soul Forging Workshop', would drain the Academy's five-year energy reserve in a single test."
"No," Odin said calmly. "The boy's approach is different. He thought of something we didn't. 'Cyclical Raw Material.' Instantly recycling everything outside perception at the quantum level. His theory is... terrifyingly sound. If he succeeds, as Kefius says, he could reduce raw material consumption by 99%."
"If he succeeds," another voice joined in. This was Lyra, the female member sitting in the darkest corner of the table in dark burgundy robes. She was the Head of Shadows and Secrets. And she was the very one who assigned Amara to the Red Friends. Her voice was like a knife sliding over silk, insidious and melodic. "His brain works fast, Odin. But from what we've seen, it's not just his brain."
The other members turned their two bright white eyes toward Lyra.
Lyra was watching images in her mind that were not projected into the room, images only she could see: Robert and Amara's four-hour, wild union. "His 'rehabilitation' session with Amara... was recorded as 'successful'. His touch with Syla, Sinf, Vingyu, even the giant Karnah... is different. His bridge with the females also appears strong. This makes him both incredibly strong... and dangerously fragile."
"Where are you going with this, Lyra?" asked Analyst Ordis, trying to see these "emotional" changes in her data.
"His project needs raw material, doesn't it?" Lyra said, chuckling. "But the Mind Matrix... doesn't run on Protocolasm alone. For the 'feeling of reality', it will also need emotional energy, psychic echoes. We can... test this special 'bonding' ability of his."
Kratos's voice came as a warning. "Are you sure? This might strengthen him instead of breaking him. Or if he loses control and uses women to become a tyrant? He controlled Amara. What if the others become just as attached to him?"
The Overseer's voice cut the argument. "He is a Dream Bender. The entity managing the most chaotic power in the universe. His job is to stand in balance. If he cannot pass this simple emotional test, he can never manage the technology, the Reactive Perception Matrix. Then, the project will be buried with him."
"Precisely," Lyra said triumphantly. "That is why... we must test. Both his loyalty to the Academy and the emotional resistance he trusts so much."
Kratos was still skeptical. "How?"
Lyra smiled. The two bright points in the shadow narrowed like a cat's eyes. "Let him think he is the 'Leader.' Let him think he is the 'Creator.' We will offer him a new, much more... tempting material to create with."
The Overseer remained silent for a long time at the obsidian table in the center of the universe. Galaxies rotated heavily around them. Finally, the decision was made.
"Test him. Begin preparations."
The Council members bowed their heads silently. The plan had already begun to take shape in Lyra's insidious mind. What, in what way, and how they would test would remain the Academy's deepest secret. But the test had already begun.
The silence around the massive obsidian table suspended in the cosmic void grew heavier as the seven Council members retreated one by one into the darkness of their own thoughts. The Overseer's final, definitive command – "Test him" – echoed among the stars like a decree approved by the universe itself.
The members withdrew their presence from the room one by one, silently as they had come. The Overseer, Kratos, Odin, Ordis... each returned to their own layers of reality or duties in another corner of the Academy. Until only two entities remained in the room.
The Overseer, with that genderless, authoritative presence, was still sitting at the head of the table. And in the darkest corner of the table, in her burgundy robes, Lyra, the Head of Shadows and Secrets, had not moved.
"Your plan," The Overseer's mental voice said, breaking the silence. "Emotional. Risky. And... ruthless. I like it."
An audible, silky chuckle escaped from under Lyra's dark hood. "The strongest steel is not forged in the coldest water, Overseer. It is forged in the hottest fire. We will merely... offer him the fire."
The Overseer said nothing. Its presence vanished from the room in an instant, like a beam of light extinguishing. Lyra was left alone in the heart of the universe, in the cosmic throne room.
After making sure everyone had left, she slowly stood up. But she didn't exit through a portal like the others. She placed her hand on the smooth, black surface of the table. The obsidian under her fingers rippled like a puddle, and Lyra slowly sank into her own shadow, as if sinking into a swamp.
A moment later, she descended from the highest tower of the Academy to its lowest layer.
This was below even the ground floor. It was where the foundations of the Academy, the humming energy generators keeping the massive structure in the air, and forgotten storage areas no one entered were located. The air smelled damp, moldy, and heavy with metal mixed with ozone.
Lyra stepped out of the shadow into the middle of a humid corridor. Only one entity awaited her.
This looked like nothing Robert or anyone in the Academy had seen before. It was nearly two and a half meters tall but as thin as a willow branch. Its skin looked as if covered in thousands of years old, dried parchment, and its joints moved at strange, wrong angles that didn't match a human's. Its face was an expressionless porcelain mask full of cracks. From under its robes, spindly, metallic arms resembling spider legs were visible.
"Mistress Lyra," the entity said. Its voice was scratchy and disturbing, like chalk scratching a blackboard.
"The time has come, Transmitter," Lyra's silky voice said, shining like a diamond in this rotten place. "We can initiate the protocol."
The thin, tall entity called "The Transmitter" tilted its head with a mechanical movement, making cracking sounds. "Are you sure, Mistress? 'Pleasure Palace Protocol' has not been activated for a hundred cycles. The results... could be unstable."
"Approval has been granted," Lyra cut in. "And the control from here on is mine. He is ready. Drunk with the arrogance of victory. Now is the time to test him with the fire of his weakness."
The Transmitter hesitated for a moment. Then, the cracked porcelain mask parted slightly, as if smiling. "Understood. In that case... 'Pleasure Palace Protocol' is initiating."
Following these words, The Transmitter bowed before Lyra and then, like a television screen turning off, disappeared on the spot with a static noise, digitally disintegrating.
Seconds later, it appeared in the depths of the Academy, in a forgotten server room. It entered a room where the air was even colder than in the Bending Machine's room, containing massive, humming quantum processors. It extended its thin, spidery fingers to a rusty console and began entering a series of complex, incomprehensible codes.
Deep down, a sleeping system awoke. A machine began to produce raw material. But this was not Protocolasm or Magic Dust. This was something more insidious. This was a system encoded with psychic energy that, when mixed with air, produced an invisible wave, a pheromone-like substance that brought an entity's deepest, most suppressed desires to the surface and slowly melted their will.
And the "anchor" of this system had to be a physical object.
With The Transmitter's commands, a creation tray opened. Inside lay a palm-sized, flawless, metallic lotus flower. Its layered, silvery petals were as sharp as razors, and right in the center was a dark red, glowing crystal. The flower was, by appearance, a work of art. But its main function was to emit a dizzying, light scent, a mix of vanilla and ozone, spreading into the room.
After the system produced this object, it remained active; using the flower like a signal transmitter, it would continue to emit psychic pheromone waves.
The product was placed in a sterile box bearing the Council's official seal. Through carriers, passing through the labyrinthine corridors of the Academy, it was left at the door of the Red Friends' salon, to be delivered to Robert.
Robert was surprised when he found the gift. "A Gift from the Council," read the note. "A token of appreciation for your superior strategic success in the tournament."
When Robert opened the box, he found the elegant, metallic lotus. He was suspicious. The Council didn't give gifts; the Council took. But when he scanned the object, he found no dangerous energy signatures, no listening devices. It was just an elegant ornament with a light, pleasant scent. He interpreted this as a trophy of victory, a sign that the Council had begun to see him as a "value." And he placed the flower on the table in the middle of the salon, where everyone could see it.
Two days passed.
The metal lotus in the center of the salon continued to silently emit an almost imperceptible, sweet scent into the room.
The Red Friends team was living in the intoxication of victory. That evening, while Robert was designing the intricate quantum memory area of the Mind Matrix in the Bending Machine, the rest of the team gathered in the salon.
"We should surprise him," Vingyu said, hanging upside down from her perch. "He's been working in that dark room all day. He hasn't even had time to celebrate our victory!"
Karnah smiled at the idea. "You're right. We should throw a special celebration. Just for us. For our Leader."
The idea instantly created a strange electricity among all the women in the room. And at that moment, the invisible wave emanating from the metal lotus made its first whisper felt. But this attack was not just biological; it was digital too.
Lyra's "Pleasure Palace Protocol" had silently "hacked" not only the air but also the operating systems of the private rooms connected to the Red Friends' salon. The "Synthesizer Wardrobes" in the students' rooms had switched to the normally forbidden "Creative Mode," with morality filters disabled. Each retreated to their room to pour their deepest, most suppressed fantasies into fabric and matter.
That evening, when Robert got up from the Bending Machine, his brain was numb with quantum equations. Exhausted, he headed for the salon.
As he approached the salon, he realized something was odd. The corridor was quiet, but a dim, flickering light was seeping from under the door. And... the smell.
The light vanilla scent he had gotten used to over the last two days was gone, replaced by the heavy, suffocating perfume of exotic flowers and musk that weighed down the air.
He placed his hand nervously on the door panel. The door slid open silently.
Robert couldn't believe his eyes at that moment.
The salon was not the messy common area he knew. The normal lights were off, the room illuminated only by the flickering reddish light emitting from the metallic lotus flower on the table. And inside the room stood his team. But they were not the warriors he knew. Their outfits were far beyond Academy standards, daring and provocative.
Tina wore an incredibly short skirt woven from "Crystal Fiber" that looked as if it were made of thousands of tiny diamonds refracting light. Her upper body was almost completely bare; thin black leather strips barely covering her nipples sat like a web on her pale skin.
Syla, the ice queen, had turned her aristocracy into a fetish. She wore a form-fitting, translucent, ice-blue latex dress. The dress was so tight it revealed even her breathing, and the deep cleavage generously displayed her cold skin.
Vingyu stood on the floor, not on her perch, in a provocative pose. She wore a frilly green micro-skirt that only covered her hips and a gold silk bustier that left the roots of her wings exposed.
Uhura had emerged from the shadows. She wore a dark purple velvet leotard that left her legs completely exposed. However, the sides of the leotard were held together entirely by strings, and her obsidian skin shone through these strings with every movement.
Sinf, the innocent healer, looked like she was wearing a white silk dressing gown, but the fabric was so thin that every curve underneath was visible. The front was completely open, and fairy dust swirled like shimmering stockings around her bare legs.
Amara... She was the conductor of this orchestra. She wore literally nothing; there was only a layer of black, shadow-like mist that seemed "sprayed" onto strategic areas of her body, dispersing and gathering as she moved.
And Karnah...
That massive warrior stood like a statue in the middle of the room. The blood-red boots wrapping her legs were made of high-quality synthetic leather produced by the wardrobe, creaking and shining. But the real shock was the silvery skirt she wore. It didn't look like fabric; it had a wet, jelly-like, translucent structure that trembled in the light.
Robert froze in the doorway. This wasn't a celebration. This was... wrong. But why did it feel so right? As the scent of the Lotus filled his lungs, his logic melted.
"Welcome, Leader," whispered Amara.
Robert closed the door behind him. With every step, the suffocating perfume in the air destroyed his will a little more.
Karnah walked towards Robert, making a rhythmic sound on the floor with those synthetic red boots. Squeak... squeak... Every step blew another fuse in Robert's mind. When the giant woman stopped right in front of him, Robert's eyes saw only those boots and that strange, wet skirt above them.
Karnah lifted her right leg slightly, bent her knee, and gently rested the shiny toe of her boot against Robert's groin. Then she lowered her foot and extended her leg. "Do you like it, little Leader?" she whispered, her voice hoarse. "I prepared this... just for you."
Robert couldn't answer. He raised his hand, touched the leather of the boot with trembling fingers. It was cold and hard. The moment he touched it, lightning flashed in his brain. It was real.
Karnah deliberately rubbed her leg against Robert's hand. And at that moment, Robert's strings snapped.
He fell to his knees. He bowed his head and pressed his lips to the boot. The smell and taste of the leather burned his throat. This was a surrender.
Karnah held Robert by the head and lifted his face up, towards her leg. Robert's lips moved from the boot to her skin, that warm, bronze muscle, and then to the edge of that strange, silvery skirt. The skirt vibrated against the skin. Robert, in a trance, stuck out his tongue and touched the jelly-like surface of the skirt.
And at that moment, he tasted the forbidden fruit of technology.
The skirt melted on the tip of his tongue.
This wasn't fabric. This was a condensed, flavored layer of Bio-Gel produced by the Synthesizer. Normally used on the battlefield to close wounds or as emergency nutritional supplements, this substance had turned into a sweet, exotic fruit-flavored "garment" shaped by Karnah's desire.
Robert flinched at the intense sweetness but didn't pull back. On the contrary, the dopamine receptors in his brain exploded. This taste, combined with the scent of the Lotus, had turned into an addictive nectar.
He attacked with hunger.
He pressed his tongue against the surface of the skirt and delivered a long, wet stroke upwards. The gel dissolved instantly with the heat of his mouth and flowed down Robert's throat like a sweet syrup. That part of the skirt was gone, leaving behind Karnah's warm, bare, bronze skin underneath.
Karnah threw her head back and let out a deep, guttural moan. "Yes... Consume it..."
Robert didn't stop. He began to consume the skirt not like fabric, but like food. He bit, sucked, licked, and swallowed. Pieces of silvery gel dripped from the corners of his lips, smearing his chin. As the skirt melted, Karnah's massive physique was revealed, inch by inch, wet and sticky. Robert's face was smeared with the sweetness of the gel and the musk of Karnah's skin.
This scene became a flare for the others in the room.
Vingyu darted with the speed of a hummingbird. Hovering in the air, she latched onto Robert's face. She began to lick the sweet gel flowing from Robert's chin, showering Robert's lips, cheeks, and neck with kisses using her small, fast tongue.
When the last piece of her skirt melted and vanished in Robert's mouth, Karnah couldn't take it anymore. She grabbed Robert by the shoulders, pulled him up, and latched onto his lips with wild desire. The taste of that sweet gel in Robert's mouth merged with hers.
And chaos began.
Tina wrapped around Robert's legs like a fireball, her crystal skirt rubbing against his legs. Amara jumped onto his back like a shadow, wrapping her legs around his waist. Sinf wrapped her arms covered in fairy dust around Robert's neck, leaving those shimmering trails that created tingling sensations wherever they touched his skin. Syla tore Robert's shirt apart with her cold hands.
Robert was in a pincer of kisses, touches, and tastes. He couldn't distinguish whose hand was where, whose moan belonged to whom, whether the wetness on his skin was gel or sweat. There was only pure, unfiltered pleasure.
In the cosmic void of the Council Chamber, Lyra was watching this scene alone on a massive screen. Her face was in shadow, but her lips curled with satisfaction.
"They even made technology an instrument of their desires," Lyra said to herself. Her eyes were locked on Robert's hunger as he consumed that gel. His will was completely broken. "They are ready."
She sent the command from her mind to that scratchy-voiced entity, The Transmitter. "Initiate the second phase of the protocol. The Tower Index."
The Transmitter's voice echoed in her mind. "Initiating."
While Robert and the women around him were at the peak of desire, interlocked in a ball of sweat and gel, the metallic lotus flower in the center of the salon suddenly shone with a blinding brightness. The red crystal in its center thumped like a heartbeat and then exploded. It turned into a blood-red, intense energy field that swallowed the room.
The bodies making love froze in an instant. Their eyes rolled back, their consciousness melting inside that red light. All of them, including Robert, collapsed where they were, on top of each other.
The red light bent the gravity in the room. It turned the bodies into ghosts, separated them into molecules, and sucked them into the flower like a vacuum.
A second later, the room was empty.
Only the heavy, suffocating scent hanging in the air, torn clothes, and puddles of melted bio-gel remained on the floor. The lotus flower closed again, its petals locking, and sat in its place like an innocent ornament.
When Robert opened his eyes, the first thing he felt was a strange softness. He seemed to be lying not on a hard floor, but on a massive, pink cloud or a pile of cotton.
The air had changed. The heavy perfume and the sugary smell of the gel that burned his throat were gone, replaced by an overly sweet, artificial strawberry and powder scent that tickled his nose.
He blinked.
There was no ceiling. No walls. No horizon line. There was only an infinite, bright, dazzling pink void.
He sat up. He was alone. No Karnah, no Vingyu, no others... No one was there. And he was naked. He could still feel the stickiness of that gel on his skin, but the world around him... this world was wrong.
He didn't know where he was or how he got there. As the fog in his mind slowly cleared, an instinctive fear settled in his stomach. This wasn't the aftermath of a party. This was something else.
This was the place where bodily desires ended and the mental test began.
The Infinite, Pink Nothingness.