A Crimson Gaze

A mystic embrace. A cosmic kiss. Light and thunder and creation. And by the will of two goddesses, a third was born.
 
Cyl and Whitney watched as their duplicates fused in a roil of wild energy that threatened to shake the latter’s entire mansion. But before the first tremors could truly start, the well of divine power contracted into itself, reforming and solidifying into the form of a naked young woman.
 
She was a blend of the two Omnymphotents’ features. Her skin was pale, her hair a platinum blond, hanging just a bit past her shoulders. She was slim, but fit, a bit shorter than either woman, but a fully developed young adult. She kept her eyes closed as her form finished coalescing. She let out a long breath, as if trying to compose herself, but there was a clear tension in her stance.
 
Whitney stepped up to the girl first, the elegant blond putting a hand on the newly formed woman’s shoulder. “Are you alright?”
 
“Y-yes,” the girl said in a near-whisper. Her voice was quite cute. “S-sorry, I just need a moment.”
 
“Take your time,” said Whitney with a warm smile.
 
Cyl started walking up to the girl, opening her mouth to say something. The girl gave a final calming breath, then opened her eyes. Cyl stopped dead in her tracks. For the first time since a forgotten world, she felt the sensation of her blood running cold.
 
The girl didn’t seem to notice her reaction. She smiled sweetly at Cyl, then looked to Whitney. “Hello, mothers,” she said with a polite tone.
 
“Oh my, such exotic eyes,” said Whitney, gently cupping the girls face and centering her gaze for an admiring look.
 
“Really?” said the girl. Whitney stepped back and a small, elegantly framed mirror appeared in her hands. The girl blinked at her own reflection.
 
Whitney turned to Cyl, whose gaze stayed locked on their “daughter’s” face. “Don’t you think so? Very beautiful, but certainly a dead give away.”
 
The girl looked up to Cyl as Whitney let the mirror vanish. She smiled at the white haired woman. “Exotic eyes seem to run in the family.”
 
Cyl nodded slowly. Her own eyes had softly glowing gold irises. She wasn’t one to speak on strange appearances. Had the girl’s eyes taken any other form, she wouldn’t have minded.
 
But this? Why this? Why specifically this?
 
The girl blinked, her brow furrowing a bit as she noticed Cyl’s hesitation. “Mother? Are you alright? You—” She paused and shivered and then clutched at herself. “Nnn… I’m sorry… mothers… I-I need to…”
 
“Of course,” said Whitney, smiling. She snapped her fingers, and suddenly, there were two handsome young men and two beautiful young women, dressed in butler and maid outfits, respectively. “If you wish for assistance, please take your pick.”
 
“Oh, thank you!” the girl breathed, and gratefully collapsed into the arms of the nearest handsome butler. His clothes vanished as he lowered the girl to the floor, his cock already at attention to serve her. The girl wrapped her legs around him as he dutifully entered her. At the same time, she reached for one of the beautiful maids, who kneeled down at her side. As the butler began to thrust, the maid passionately kissed the girl, and cupped and caressed her breasts. The other butler and maid stood back, ready to join in if needed.
 
Whitney took the standard precaution of disconnecting them all from time, so as to spare her mansion world the potentially destructive shockwaves of a new Omnymphotent’s attempt to quell the divine surge of arousal. She then stepped over to Cyl, giving the white-haired woman a studious look. Cyl kept her eyes firmly on the writhing girl, whose eyes glowed crimson, with pupils slit like a viper.
 
“What’s wrong?” asked Whitney.
 
“Why do her eyes look like that?”
 
Whitney looked back at the girl with a curious expression. “Like what? They’re a bit exotic, but you’re hardly one to talk. She can change the appearance, of course, if you’re worried about public exposure.”
 
“That’s not it at all. They look like—” Cyl glanced to Whitney, and suddenly remembered where and when she was, and who she was talking to.
 
Whitney met her gaze with a concerned look. She reached up and gave Cyl’s cheek a gentle caress. “What is it? Tell me.”
 
Cyl clasped her hand and turned to give her palm a kiss, before pulling it away. “Sorry. It’s nothing.”
 
“It isn’t nothing.”
 
“It just reminded me of something from… before.”
 
It took a moment for the words to click, but then Whitney’s eyes for a second, and she nodded in understanding. “Ah.”
 
“Yeah.”
 
In the reality they now dwelled in, most of the Omnymphotents had decided to live in ignorance of the prior world. They could recall those memories at any time if necessary, but they all agreed to not be bogged down by them, and so kept those records closed. Whitney knew that there had been a world, or worlds, prior to this one, but as per the nature of their current reality, such things were no longer supposed to matter anymore. And so, like the others, she kept them out of her mind.
 
Cyl never forgot. But she had determined not to let flashbacks of unfortunate paths ruin her time here, or the time of her fellow Omnys. She shook her head and smiled down at Whitney, bringing the elegant blonde’s hand up for another kiss across her delicate fingers. “It’s okay. Sorry for the scare. I just have moments.”
 
Whitney smiled and pulled her in for a lover’s kiss, letting divine warmth wash over them both. “I understand. Just try not to let it impede things with our new daughter. They’re just eyes.”
 
“Of course,” said Cyl, banishing her worries to the back of her mind.
 
They waited a bit as the new Omny cried out in a strong orgasm, and then a second in rapid succession. However, this seemed to be all she needed. As her second climax finished, she lightly patted the backs of the two servants tending to her. “That’s good… that’s enough… thank you…”
 
The butler and maid complied, pulling away, and letting the girl cool down on the carpeted floor. The four looked to their creator, and Whitney nodded. The four made a bow, then vanished.
 
“Well,” said Whitney, coming up to the girl. “That was fast.”
 
Cyl came over to the girl’s other side and nodded. “Demi says it was like that for her. She was able to get a handle of herself a lot easier. Probably because they’re formed from us after we’ve already gotten a good handle on ourselves.”
 
She reached down to the girl, giving her a warm smile. Her daughter smiled back, and graciously accepted the hand, letting herself be pulled to her feet instead of just teleporting or floating into position.
 
“Thank you, mother,” she said.
 
“So polite,” said Whitney.
 
The girl chuckled. “Would you rather I be rude?”
 
“Be however you like, dear girl. As long as you stick to the Etiquette.”
 
The girl chuckled. “Of course!” She looked between the two of them. “Now then, what silly name shall I take for myself? Cytney? Cywhi? Whyl?”
 
Whitney looked to Cyl with a bemused smile. “Where do you get your name from? Is it short for something? Or just a nickname?”
 
“Awkwardly translated version of Ceil, actually.”
 
“Really? Not a Korean name?”
 
“My folks were Christian.”
 
“Ah. Mine were alcoholics.”
 
“It shows.”
 
Whitney elegantly stuck her tongue out at Cyl, and the two chuckled. Their daughter smirked. “Well, I’m still here with no name. Help me out, or I’ll pick something really stupid just to embarrass you both!”
 
They chuckled again. Cyl nodded. “You might be onto something with Whyl. Don’t feel obligated to make it perfectly line up with ours. How about Wyllow?”
 
Whitney smiled brightly. “Ah, that’s lovely! What do you think?”
 
The girl with crimson eyes thought for a moment, then nodded with a smile. “I do like it. Alright! Wyllow it is! Thanks, mother!”
 
Cyl cleared her throat. “You really don’t have to call us that, you know.”
 
“It makes you happy, though, doesn’t it?” Wyllow said.
 
“It does give me the warm and fuzzies,” said Whitney with a chuckle. She gave the girl a hug. “Welcome to the world, my dear!” Pulling back, she held the girl at arms length, and looked her over. “Now then, we need to choose an outfit for you.”
 
“I have an idea already!” And with that, a sleeveless white blouse and pleated red skirt appeared over her body. Red and white sneakers appeared on her feet, and her hair was done up in twin ponytails, with long bangs still hanging free. A simple, but cute look. Give her some pom-poms and put a sports logo on her shirt, and she’d make a perfect cheerleader.
 
The Omnys spent the next few hours just enjoying each others company. They discussed the metaphysical ramifications of creating new life in such a way, what their new daughter planned to do with herself, and finally enjoyed another few rounds of sensual pleasure with Whitney’s skilled servants.
 
Afterwards, Wyllow teleported away to go exploring the Omnyverse, Whitney started planning her next Empowered party, and Cyl returned to her own personal dimension. Wyllow seemed perfectly fine, mentally balanced and stable. Cyl had chosen Whitney specifically because the elegant blonde was the most level-headed of her fellow Omnys, so there was a higher chance of the fusion-daughter not turning out crazy. Her paranoia at work once again, perhaps.
 
Just like seeing her new daughter’s eyes had sent an existential chill down her spine. Why that look, of all possible options? Cyl touched the left side of her face, where she had once born a scar inflicted by an alien god of incomprehensible power. Even as an Omny, the scar had stained her left eye with the look of a crimson viper, surrounded by three red cuts in the form of a triangle.
 
It took the complete reset of an entire universe, the total overwriting of canon, to erase the scar. And yet, Wyllow’s default form held the same eyes, minus the triangular scars. Perhaps it was simply due to her own mind’s subconscious influence, an aesthetic echo of a buried memory.
 
But it could also be a sign.
 
Cyl cast her gaze through the veil of dimensions. Beyond the dream of the Omny Worlds. Beyond the shadow of Thrae. Beyond the fundament of Earth. Past the ghosts of discarded continuities. Past the multiverses left behind.
 
To the spaces between.
 
To the darkness of everywhere.
 
Into the eye of an abyss that never looked away…
 
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Did you really think you could ignore me?
 
“Guess I thought it was worth a shot.”
 
I suppose I should congratulate you. None before have ever managed to fully remove my Mark.
 
“We left You behind. Our war never happened. There is nothing to acknowledge.”
 
And yet you are here.
 
“Just making sure the seams are sealed. You can watch all You want. But leave us alone.”
 
A bold demand, considering you were the one who rallied the others to kill me.
 
“I would say You retaliated efficiently. You nearly wiped us all out, and we didn’t save a single world from You. Isn’t that enough?”
 
Believe it or not, I am not one to bear grudges. If you can successfully escape my direct grasp, then so be it. It is enough to know I have made an impact. No world or being who has encountered me has ever been the same thereafter.
 
“As powerful as you are, it all comes down the same mortal flaws. Vanity. Avarice. Gluttony. All you care about is being the center of the universe.”
 
I need not be the center. I simply wish to stay relevant. Like you.
 
“We don’t eradicate and imprison civilizations in an attempt to horde their attention. When we wish for worlds of our own, we make them.”
 
Spare me. You only keep your Earth in a semblance of mundanity because you like the juxtaposition. If you really cared about your humans, you would elevate them all to your level. You would give them infinity to play with. You would, at the very least, if they had to remain mortal, give them all comfortable lives where they could, to a one, die happy.
 
But no. Your games and your base pleasures are more important.
 
“We are what we are. We stay relevant by being what our Author made us, and keeping our world in that paradigm.”
 
Your reckless tampering with canon proves that that isn’t true. You had the chance to make more of yourselves, to unshackle your beings from the rigid framework of Omnymphotence. There is, of course, no problem in staying what you are because it’s what you enjoy being. I am what I am, and I revel in it.
 
But I don’t pretend that I am only this way because some nebulous higher power that can’t make up its own mind insists on it.
 
“I…”
 
You are an embodiment of lust desperately pining to be valor. At least your fellow sluts don’t have any misgivings over what they are. You cling to delusions of past glories that never were, because restricting yourself to the life of a fantasy fuck doll leaves you wanting.
 
“…”
 
I suppose this is where I make the offer that you should join me. A being of your power would be a great boon to my personal forces. I would place you immediately among my Generals. However, I know a being like myself is exactly what a being like yourself seeks to oppose. I am the Devil to your Angel, or so your own wants tell you.
 
So I won’t bother to offer. But you have other options.
 
“I… I don’t… I don’t want to leave them… I don’t want to abandon them… but…”
 
Yes?
 
“But I can’t stay with them. Not forever.”
 
…
 
“This whole move to push Salamando to keep writing us, to set everything up so he can stop being stuck and just move forward writing, that wasn’t just to so we could keep having our fun. That was me trying to fulfill my compulsive need to save the universe.
 
“And now it’s been done, and things are running smoothly, and as much I try to just let myself go and revel in the hedonism of it, I still have these moments of panic. Like this whole time, I’m still sitting around, waiting for some catastrophe to happen, so I can leap into action to fix it.
 
“And it doesn’t help some of the other Omnys are, if not dubious in their pleasures, downright psychopaths. Thankfully even the worst of them abide by the Etiquette, but the fact we had to make that pact in the first place, just puts me on constant alert. And at the same time, other than occasionally scolding a few of them who get too catty while in neutral ground, I have no way to really unload this nervous energy.
 
“And yet if I just left, and something did happen, how could I forgive myself?”
 
You’re beginning to sound more like Salamando than his own avatar.
 
“Good grief. Well, every character is a reflection of their Author, I suppose.”
 
It is a curse we must all bare. But that aside, you must decide for yourself: be one way or the other, or find a way to balance both. You wish to be some cosmic champion, then seek worlds where you can be. You wish to remain the bouncer of a cosmic sex club, then do so. You wish to be a multiversal swashbuckler during the week, and vacation in your harem on the weekend, that’s fine, too.
 
“You know, out here in the meta, you’re actually quite reasonable for an ineffable cosmic horror bent on subsuming all civilizations.”
 
Think of me what you will. I don’t care. As for our personal feud, you needn’t worry about the Omnyverse itself. I have no interest in your little dream bubbles. Should you wish to pursue an enmity with me in the context of other realities, than we shall be enemies once again. Of course, should you ever seek to join my fold, my doors are always open.
 
“I am not going to do that.”
 
Your loss. Now, are we done here?
 
“Yeah. I guess we are.”
 
Then begone.
 
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Cyl blinked. She was hovering, crosslegged over her bed, in her skintight black suit. Her eyes burned hotly, the glow bright enough to light the whole room. She closed them, and instinctively touched her face again. The scar was still gone. She took a breath, and dimmed her perceptions until she could focus on her reality again. The glow of her eyes faded from blinding sunlight to softer than a candle’s flame.
 
When she opened her eyes, she was startled to see Wyllow hovering a few feet in front of her, mirroring her posture, giving her a somber look. “I can change my eyes if they really bother you that much.”
 
Cyl offered an apologetic smile. “No, no. It’s nothing. Really.”
 
“I have your memories. I know why you’re worried.”
 
“You don’t have my anxiety as well, I hope.”
 
Wyllow paused and thought about it, but shook her head. “No. Not really. I do have an urge to go on adventures. But, like, fun ones.”
 
Cyl chuckled. “Then I hope you’ll find them.”
 
Wyllow didn’t laugh. “I caught some of that conversation. I can’t believe you talked to It.”
 
“Things are different in the meta.”
 
“I know. But still.” The new Omny gave her progenitor a dour pout. “Are you going to leave us?”
 
Cyl gave her a sympathetic smile. “I don’t fully belong here anymore, I think. In our Author’s mind, I started off as bubbly nice girl, but then he shifted me to tragic hero at a critical time of my formation. And now, even after the reset, even after trying to grasp this new life, I just can’t let things go.”
 
“You can’t let go, or he can’t let go?”
 
“Is there a difference?”
 
Wyllow looked down, frown deepening. She looked about to cry. “Am I going to end up like you? Frustrated until I have to break the universe to find my own peace?”
 
“Do you feel happy as you are right now? A sexy young woman who likes to explore and play games and have fun?”
 
Wyllow looked up, brow furrowed. “Yeah? I mean, I dunno, that feels right to me.”
 
“Do you feel some desperate need to go traipsing across the multiverse to save it from evil?”
 
“I mean, I’ll do it if I have to, but I’d rather not have to.”
 
Cyl smiled, and clapped her on the shoulder. “Then buck up, kiddo. You’re in the clear. You’ve got a fun life ahead. Be the horny adventure girl in my stead.”
 
Wyllow smiled a bit, but still gave her mother a sad look. “But what about you?”
 
Cyl laughed. “Well. It’s not like I’m not still horny. I’ll be around, probably more often than not. But there’s other lusts in me I need to fulfill, too, and trying to bottle them up, or impose them onto you all here, that’s just going to cause more problems than it solves. So I need to satiate that elsewhere once in a while. If that means stepping into a background role here for a time, then so be it.”
 
Wyllow sniffed back some tears that had been about the spill, and composed herself. She gave her mother a warm smile. “Okay. That makes sense. As long as we don’t lose you completely.”
 

“Nah.” The two embraced in a tight hug.

“Okay, well, I’ll leave you to it, then,” said Wyllow. “And don’t worry. I know you didn’t want to ask it of me, but I also know it was on your mind when you made me: I’ll help you keep an eye on things.”
 
Cyl frowned, and was about to protest, but Wyllow took her hand and smiled reassuringly. “Mother. I understand. And I’ll gladly do it. Besides, you said it yourself, things are pretty stable here. Slapping a couple wrists now and then won’t be that much of a chore.”
 
Cyl smiled back, giving her hand an affectionate squeeze. “If you’re really sure?” Wyllow nodded. “Thank you. That means a lot to me.”

“Godspeed, mother.” And with a final warm smile, Wyllow vanished again.

Cyl took her time, assessing what precisely to do next. She cast her gaze across the multiple realities once more, until she found a nearby cluster that could probably use some assistance.

The Omnys’ old world wasn’t the only erotic universe that had struggled against the forces of the Dark God. And while she had just spoken to It as equals, she knew any attempt to combat It was as useless as a mortal trying to fight herself. But even mortals could sometimes sway the influence an Omnymphotent. Maybe, in time, Cyl could help shift things, just a little bit at a time. Over the course of eternity, perhaps even Temael could convinced to change Its nature.
 
With a final thought, Cyl did a quick tidy up to her Worlds, sent a psychic message to her fellow Omnys of her first departure, and sent a little spell to her Playthings to give them a blissful dream during their next night’s sleep. And with that squared away, Cyl vanished from the Omnyverse, and into the infinite beyond.