The Wailing Woods grew silent as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in bruises of deep purple and sickly orange. The air grew cold—not the refreshing chill of winter, but the biting, unnatural cold of the Void.
"We can't make the trek back in the dark with the wounded," Caelum stated, his voice cutting through the heavy silence of the ravine. He looked at the gathered women: Lyra and Xavia, still flushed from their earlier "Eclipse"; Seraphina, leaning heavily on a tree; and **Isolde**, who was shivering in a state of near-catatonic shock.
Beside Isolde stood the third member of her cell, **Elena**. Caelum's eyes swept over the newcomer, his analytical gaze noting every "reagent" detail.
Elena She was a firebrand with a **short, messy bob of flame-red hair** and **piercing emerald eyes** that sparkled with fading defiance. Her uniform was scorched, revealing glimpses of **creamy, sun-kissed skin** and the **tight, athletic curves** of a runner. Her **breasts were small but firm**, straining against her singed bodice, and her **thighs were toned and powerful**, built for the explosive movements of a pyromancer.
"There's a limestone cavern half a league East," Caelum commanded. "Mina, scout the path."
The golden gauntlet on his arm rippled, a small portion of the slime detaching to slide through the undergrowth like a liquid scout.
The cave was dry and hidden behind a curtain of thick ivy. Inside, the air was surprisingly warm. Caelum took charge with a clinical efficiency that bordered on the divine.
He didn't make a move on them—not yet. He knew that for a successful synthesis, the reagents had to be stabilized. He used his **Gold Aether** to ignite a steady, smokeless fire in the center of the cave, then turned his attention to the girls.
He moved to **Seraphina** first. He placed his hands on her lower back, sending a gentle, low-frequency pulse of Gold into her spine to soothe her overtaxed gravity core. She let out a long, shuddering moan, her **voluminous hips** relaxing under his touch as the internal bleeding in her Aether channels ceased.
Then, he moved to **Isolde**.
The Ice Queen flinched as he approached, but she was too weak to move. Caelum sat behind her, pulling her stiff, trembling body against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, his hands resting just beneath the **soft, heavy weight of her breasts**.
"Your core is flash-frozen," he whispered into her ear. "If I don't raise your temperature now, the ice will crack your spirit."
He channeled a constant, simmering heat into her. Isolde gasped, her **slender frame** arching as the warmth flooded her. For the first time, she didn't fight him. She leaned back, her **silver hair** spilling over his shoulders, her body finally beginning to "thaw" in his embrace.
Finally, he tended to **Elena**, sealing the burns on her arms with a thin layer of Mina's protective gold film. The fire-girl watched him with wary, fascinated eyes, her **emerald gaze** tracking the way he moved—the dominant, effortless master of the room.
By midnight, the cave was a scene of quiet recovery. Lyra and Xavia slept at his feet, while Seraphina, Elena, and Isolde rested against the cave walls, their eyes fixed on Caelum as he sat by the fire, the golden glove of Mina glowing softly on his hand.