She woke up with her stomach lurching again, forcing her
conscious. She tried to make it to the bucket, but couldn’t crawl the full
distance before her stomach spasmed, and she had to stop and gag against the
floor. Nothing came out, but only because they hadn’t fed her in a few days.
How many? Usually they let her starve for three if she acted up. The last clear
memory of a meal was the night before, but then the following morning, she’d
bitten the last “client” they’d thrown at her. At least, she thought she might
have. The man had come in the room, and then things got blurry, and then when
she could think again, she’d tasted blood on her tongue. Hers? Or the clients?
Before she could really figure out what had happened, they’d given her the
shot, and then the room was spinning and spinning and spinning and…
She almost shook her head to clear the cobwebs, but on the
first turn of her head, a lance of pain shot through her temples. She dropped
fully to the floor, sagging against the dirty stone. She never learned. They
beat her, they starved her, they gave her the filthiest of the men, and still
she fought. They pulled half her fingernails and some of her teeth, and still
it hadn’t tamed her.
It wasn’t entirely her fault. She knew her situation was
hopeless. She knew she was just a flesh doll for these monsters in human skin.
But… part of her didn’t know, did it? Part of her, that part that came out when
her mind went foggy, something in her was just… just…
Just…
What was it again? Something… something…
Stomach hurt. Room spinning. Head hurt. Hunger. Taste of
blood. Taste of men. They gave her the shot, the shot, the shot that—
She coughed, and immediately regretted it, shuddering as her
throat, raw from thirst and unwanted use, burned painfully. She’d almost faded
again for a moment. She struggled to rise to her hands and knees. Her vision
was blurry, but she could smell the water in the small basin, hear the faucet
dripping. She needed to drink. She staggered up, failed to find her feet, and
shuffled on her knees. She pulled herself up by the basin’s lip and turned the
rusty handle. The water flowed in an impotent dribble, and she had to cup her
boney hand under the flow to get enough to pour in her mouth. It took several
minutes to get enough to slightly calm her headache, and even then, she had to
stop before her stomach forced her to throw it all back up.
She dragged herself back to the stained mattress in the
corner, collapsing on it. The only light came from the bare bulb above the
door, a low wattage that kept the room dim. Its soft yellow light glinted off
the iron shackle that tied her left ankle to the wall. While she’d gotten used
to the feeling of it, she still tripped over the chain at least a couple times
a day, when she felt strong enough to stand.
Hours passed and she slipped in and out of sleep. Or in an
out of that strange headspace where her thoughts turned fuzzy. Once, when her
thoughts cleared, she found herself sitting crosslegged in the middle of the
room, the pieces of a cockroach splayed out on the floor in front of her. The
second time, she had somehow managed to tie the wall chain into a knot. It was
a sizable length, so she surmised the only way she could have done it was to
crawl through the loop. It took her an hour to loosen the knot enough and get
enough slack to crawl back through. It was long enough to just barely let her
reach the edge of the small room; she didn’t need it any shorter.
At some point, there was a clicking sound from the door, and
a slot near the floor slid open. A bowl of gruel with a hunk of stale bread was
slid into the room. She let it sit for an hour before working up the strength
to get it.
With half her teeth missing, the tough bread was too hard to
chew properly. She had to wet it first in the sink, and force herself to
swallow the mush. The gruel was surprisingly decent, still a little warm after
letting it sit. Not that it had much flavor, but it felt good to eat it. Her
stomach gurgled a bit, but she managed to keep it down.
More hours passed. She regained enough strength to do her
business in the bucket. More hours passed. Food and rest let her think a bit
more clearly. But she didn’t let herself think much. Thinking about her
situation led to nothing but anxiety, and the more anxious she got, the more
she fell into that fuzzy headspace, where she did strange things she barely
remembered. So she lay there and tried to empty her thoughts, and just exist.
Her calm lasted only a bit longer, until there was a solid
metallic thunk, and the door to her cell slid open. The shadowy figures of
scarred, leering men entered the room. They spoke in Portuguese this time, a
language she recognized, but barely understood. There was no mistaking what
they were talking about, though.
A quick exchange of words and cash, and the door closed,
leaving behind a heavyset man with spidery lines cut into his face. The claws
of an angry lover? A broken bottle from a bar fight? Shrapnel from an
explosion? Who knew. These ugly men with ugly pasts took their comforts in ugly
ways. They didn’t care she was filthy, skin and bones, and barely conscious
half the time. If anything, they reveled in it, knowing a rag of flesh like her
existed only to wipe their fluids on, and toss in the corner, and no one in the
world would care.
The man undid his belt and went over to her, looping the
belt around her head. She a moment, a well of panic cut through the numbness
she normally forced herself into, thinking he was going to choke her. Instead,
he secured the belt around her mouth. Probably her “employer” had warned him
about her last outburst. The heavy set man wasn’t scared of her, no matter what
he’d heard. Going by his features, he’d fought and survived far worse than a
skeletal girl half out of her mind.
She tried to keep her mind numb, doing nothing as he stripped
down, and crawled over her. The stink of the room had masked his smell
somewhat, but as he crawled over her, his own reek assailed her nostrils at
such close range. Not the worst she’d put up with, but close.
He leered at her. She stared back, glassy eyed, trying to be
as much of a limp doll as possible. He said something in a lurid whisper, and
she knew from the tone he was trying to stoke her fear. She didn’t give him the
satisfaction of a response. She may as well have been in a coma. That didn’t
stymie his excitement, however, and he used his knee to shove her legs open,
before shoving himself inside her. He felt her sex roughly, trying to coax some
lubrication, but she had none to give. So he spat in his hand to wet his organ,
and shoved himself inside her.
She tried to be numb to the pain, but she was still raw from
the previous client. She only hadn’t noticed it until now, because her other
aches had been more prominent. She screamed into the gag, and the heavy man
giggled like a child, whispering something salacious into her ear. Her eyes
welled up, and she tried to stay limp, and just let it happen. There was no
point fighting. Just let it happen, let it happen, and he’d be done with her
sooner, let it happen, let it let it let it let it let it hu-happen it hurt let
it hurt it hurt it hurts it hurts it hurts it
it
it
hurts her jaw hurt why did her jaw hurt, she was chewing on
something, chewing too hard, her mouth was bloody, the edges of the belt were
cutting in her gums and there was something else, her fingers hurt, she was
scratching at the man, scratching and scratching and there was blood, there was
blood on her fingers, and it wasn’t even his, it was her own wounds from nails
long pulled, breaking open again as she clawed and she didn’t care and it hurt
and the man was laughed, and the room was spinning and with a muffled scream,
she tried to slap at him, to claw at his eyes with her bleeding fingers and the
man made a grunt, and he reared back his fist and brought it down like a hammer
and her world went white then black and then—
—then she woke up a Goddess.
***
Shady hovered over the Earth, gazing upon the whole of the
world with her cosmic senses. Of late, she was getting a little tired of
pushing around thirsty, innocent boys and girls. Fun was fun, and while some
mortals might think she was way too wicked to handle, the way she teased their
bodies and put them through her convoluted sex games, she held back with most
lovers far more than she let on. Sure, she might deny the orgasms of hundreds
of boys across the world, she might make girls cum themselves into comas, but
she always made sure they were okay afterwards. She took them beyond their
limits, but never so far that they would actually break. Really, she should be
given a medal for sainthood for how much she coddled her precious little Playthings.
And besides, she knew that no matter how much they all protested, they all
liked it deep down. She really wasn’t that
evil.
Except that she actually kind of was. She didn’t like to
butcher people and twist their minds and bodies with Hellish agonies like
Domina, but there was a side of her that genuinely liked seeing people twist in
her power, tasting the sheer terror and pain and existential dread as she tormented
them against their will. There was a side of her that liked to hurt people, hurt them badly, make them suffer in the most
exquisite sexual torture a human couldn’t even imagine, holding them on the
edge of climax and never letting them cross into the bliss of relief, and
lighting up every nerve in their body to experience a pleasure so divine, so
ruthless, it agonized their very souls.
She was never so cruel as to inflict that level of torment onto her innocent lovers. But there were
plenty of people the world over who were not innocent. Millions of hardened
criminals, murderers, rapists, drug pushers, corrupted politicians, and more, who
thrived on the pain and misery of others. Some, she knew, turned to crime only
because life circumstances had all but forced their hands. She tended to avoid
those who had only sinned under true duress, but even in those circumstances,
there were those whose evil went beyond any excuses. More often, she preyed on
those who had had the choice of a better way, and instead chose to be wicked.
In truth, she might not have even cared for the distinction;
in another life, another canon, she might have even just said “fuck it”, and
preyed on the innocent as well. But that uptight girl scout Cyl had reminded
her how important it was not to lose her own soul to the power she possessed.
The were times the white haired goody-good had too big a broomstick up her ass,
but Shady still respected her, even loved her a bit, and she knew she was
right. But that didn’t make the urge go away.
So, when the desire to hurt mortals grew too strong, Shady
was very selective in whom she picked. Only those who “deserved it.” And even
then, she split the difference with others; Megan, occasionally, just wanted to
hurt a douche bag boy for the sake of it, and Devi, occasionally, wanted to
break a woman who thought her high status would let her get away with anything.
And then, of course, there was Domina, who did things to mortals that sometimes
turned even Shady’s stomach. The very worst of humanity was reserved for the
redhead’s apocalyptic attentions.
But that might soon be changing. Cyl had recently called a
meeting of all the Omnys to discuss a possible overhaul of Earth and Thrae
societies, a clear violation of the Etiquette, but one that could prove
beneficial to the mortals without hindering the Omnys own already compromised
desires. Ideally, Cyl proposed, they could slowly, over a few generations,
introduce new medicines and technologies to help humanity achieve a stable
existence that would lift their society out of true poverty and free them from
the most basic dangers of starvation and sickness. It wouldn’t have to be a
radical overhaul of their reality, just a subtle guidance to a less miserable
baseline.
When others pointed out this would absolutely interfere with
humanity’s future development, which Cyl had previously been against, she
pointed out that in the end, Earth of the Omnyverse was as much a Created
World, and its people Created Natives, as any of their personal Omny Worlds.
Humanity’s future was already compromised by the mere state of their existence.
They could still keep things largely mundane otherwise. They
could still take a hands-off approach, let mortals live their lives how they
saw fit, but there was also no reason to stick to their author’s original,
poorly thought out plan of “just keep Earth the same because it’ll be more
relatable.” They could still leave Earth largely mundane, still keep the
Masquarade active, still let humanity decide its own future, just maybe they
could give humanity a little bit of a boost so things weren’t so miserable at
the baseline.
The result, of course, would be far less instances of
criminality. And while Shady couldn’t disagree that it would be better for
humanity as a whole to live better lives, the part of her that wanted to
indulge in her own wicked impulses knew that it would just mean slim pickings
for her and her ilk.
The only thing that convinced her to agree to the plan was
the fact that, as Cyl pointed out, in a world where people would be a lot less
driven to crime by circumstances, it would be easier to pick out those who were
just evil for the sake of it. Given free will, there would always be those
people with wicked hearts for the more cruel Omnys to take their sadism out on.
Still, the numbers wouldn’t be looking too good. Shady had
the better idea that maybe she and the other Omnys should start “share
cropping” each other’s Created. Using one’s own Created for their sex games
felt too much like masturbation, but Shady had had some fun with those made by
the others. It was looking more and more like an adequate fallback plan.
The idea was to slowly introduce the changes over time. It
would be a couple generations at least before humanity would actually reach
that better future, even with the Omnys nudging things here and there to guide
them to it.
Until then, Shady had to snag what scumbags she could. Thus,
she was on the prowl to find some heinous mortals to punish. It was only
because she was actively scanning that she sensed the new Ascension first. She
snapped her cosmic gaze towards a hidden town in the mountains of Mexico, where a
ruthless cartel had set up their base. Hard men who’d turned to this brutal
trade to survive, trafficking drugs and slaves, murdering other gangs and
authorities alike. Some were career criminals, others desperate survivalists,
others forced into the job under threat, but whatever their motivations, most
had committed deeds bordering on war atrocities at this point. They were the
sort of people that were ripe pickings for Shady to carry off, and twist and
break at her leisure.
Or they would have been, if a new Goddess hadn’t gotten to
them first.
***
She cried out as her body changed. The pain faded
completely. Her flesh filled out into a lithe, but fit and healthy figure. Old
injuries vanished throughout her body, scars fading as if they were never
there, her nails and teeth growing back in, poorly mended bones and tendons
realigning properly, all impurities purged from her body.
The ugly, stocky man who’d been inside her let out a choked
cry, as the broken woman he’d just entered transformed into the pinnacle of
beauty. But what’s more, not just her body, but her sheer sexual presence, filled him with a surge of
arousal and pleasure that shook him to his very soul. He let out a death rattle
as his whole body shuddered, spasming wildly as if struck by multiple
livewires. He tried to fight through the spasms to scramble away, to pull out,
but she refused to let him go. The woman wrapped her arms around him, held him
close in an impossibly strong grip, and moaned as he came inside her,
ejaculating so hard, he tore half the muscles in his back and groin.
And it wouldn’t stop. She wouldn’t let him stop. He felt his
brain cook and his heart explode in his chest, and somehow, he was still alive,
and screaming and cumming and dying and cumming and everything hurt and he was cumming and she wouldn’t let him go,
wouldn’t let him die, she was wringing every drop of cum his body could have
produced across his entire lifespan. With every spurt, she ripped away his
life, every burst bleeding the days off his remaining time. He could feel the
years draining from his body, from his very soul, over several minutes of
non-stop climax, the pleasure so intense it hurt, until he knew in the depths
of his soul, that he had reached the end. With one final shot, he knew his life
was over. He was dead, and the moment she let go of him, his body would crumble
to dust.
But she didn’t let him go, and he still kept cumming. It was
even worse now. Every spurt was a new death, more horrible than the last. If it
was possible to have a negative life
force, to somehow die beyond death, then she was forcing him to experience
that, too. She kept him going, forcing him to unlive the final grasp of
oblivion a hundred, a thousand, a million times, in the space of a minute. And
all the while, she cooed her own pleasure in his ear, in utter bliss from
drinking in his life, from feeling his very soul spasm helplessly in her grasp.
He wasn’t the only one suffering. In the instant of her Empowerment,
she was absolutely overwhelmed with an insatiable need for sex. A ferocious,
cosmic, carnal desire that could not be quenched by mere mortal affection, and
not just from a single man. Fortunately for her, her newfound power all came so
naturally, she didn’t even question it when she split her body into dozens of
copies, and sent each copy out to find another man in the town that had
enslaved her. She took them all at once, every copy emerging from random shadows
to grab each of the cartel’s brutal members. Each copy took them in her own
way, her expanded sense of eroticism allowing her to enjoy sex in ways beyond
mere penetration.
One man she simply held and electrified his nerves, letting
them spasm and spray the cum all over her as the sensual lightning funneled
into his most sensitive parts, until the semen ran out, and their muscles
imploded, and their bones cracked and their cum came out red.
For one man, she broke her body into thousands of
mosquito-sized copies, and swarmed over him, kissing and humping against his
flesh, forming little penises all over his body to use for their pleasure; the
tiny members all came in rippling waves across his skin. The unorthodox clenching
made him twist and bend until his bones snapped, and he collapsed in a
shapeless heap, still jerking and flopping in mind-bending pleasures.
One man had been sitting in a tub in a drug addled haze; she
turned him into a living liquid, expanding his mass to fill the tub, before
sliding herself within him. She lay back and masturbated, her moans resonated
with his liquid form until the vibrations made him boil. Her own shivers of
pleasure sent razor-sharp ripples through his liquid nerves as she slowly
vaporized his body.
Another she simply stood there, smiling, as she cranked up
the libido of the man before her so that the sight of her nudity alone utterly
entranced him, and made him cum so forcefully his brain fried from the visual
pleasure stimulation, and his torso tore itself in half from the force of his
clenching.
For another, she fucked him normally, but when he came, she
turned his semen into shards of barbwire that fired backwards as well as
forwards, causing his orgasm to literally rip him to pieces.
For another, she knelt between his legs and sucked him off,
and when he came, his whole body imploded, crunching down into a sack of red goo,
and she drank his whole body down through his cock, like drinking a shake
through a straw.
Yet another, she caused his penis to tear of his body and
come to life, and rape him into the dirt.
For another, she shrank the man and inserted him into
herself, and when she came from his struggles, her pussy muscles crushing him
into a red paste.
For another, she shrank herself down until she was the size
of an ant, crawled down inside his throbbing erection, and over stimulated his
nerves from the inside out, causing him to scream and thrash and tear at his
own cock to try and pry her out.
For another, she turned the man to glass and lightly flicked
his petrified cock. Every flick caused his organ to crack, and felt like a
knife of pleasure-pain cutting through his soul. She flicked it until it
shattered, the “release” caused the rest of his body to crumble.
And on and on it went. She fucked these brutal, mortal men
to literal pieces, shredding their minds and bodies and souls with inhuman
sexual abuse, keeping some alive through it all to experience the sensations
well past death, or continuously resurrecting them to re-experience the same
death over and over again.
With every horrid climax the wicked men were forced to
experience, the new Goddess came with divine pleasure. She fed on their pain,
their madness, their screams and prayers for mercy, their sobbing pleas for forgiveness,
their desperate attempts to repent at the very end of their savage lives. The
pleasures she fed them that forced them to cum despite the agony barely
qualified as a light tickle to her, but were absolutely soul-crushing to them,
more terrible than even the pure pain in itself. She bathed in the feedback as
if for nourishment, all her bodies climaxing together, the force of her orgasms
throwing off shockwaves that shook the mountains around them. Her mind went
fuzzy and she was one with a world of absolute, excruciating bliss.
She only stopped when she sensed another coming towards her.
The sudden presence of an equally powerful feminine force intruded on her
senses and jolted her awareness back to the physical world. All at once, she
ceased her torment of the mortal men, letting them finally die, their bodies
crumbling to ash or dissolving into puddles of gore.
Her duplicate bodies vanished, all condensing back into the
body in the cell. She saved the scarred man above her for last, letting him
have several more seconds of blinding, horrible climax, before letting his body
burst like a rip balloon from the sheer force of his final spurt. Slowly, she
got to her feet, and stepped out of the cell, to greet the woman who had gotten
her attention.
***
Shady floated down onto a dirt road, lined with ramshackle
buildings. Blood and fragments of bodies painted the buildings inside and out,
and streaks of remains cut across the road itself. A quick assessment told her
that everyone in the town was dead, obliterated by the Hellish attentions of
the newly awakened Omny. It was a scene right at home in Domina’s world, and
Shady debated for a moment if she was going to need back up dealing with this
woman.
Not that she was afraid or anything.
There were some survivors. Other beaten and bloodied women,
and some young men, long abused by the monsters that had used this town as a
base. Shady reaffirmed that at least the only ones who had suffered the Omny’s
brutal Ascension had been members of the cartel. Their enslaved victims had not
been touched. Yet.
With a thought, Shady whisked them all away, teleporting
them to the nearest shelter, healing their worst injuries, but leaving enough
to make it obvious they needed help. She gave them false memories of a daring
escape, and made sure the facility she’d sent them too had the proper supplies
and staff to help them. She’d check on them later, once she assessed what this
new Omny was like.
Shady approached a building that could generously be called
an oversized shack. It was mainly a cover for the cellar stairs that led down
to a small cave-like dungeon where the slaves had been kept. She stopped as she
sensed the new Omny coming up the stairs and opted to wait for her.
Just incase, she sent a mental thought to her brother to
keep watch from afar. Her Splinter Brother immediately dropped what he was
doing and prepared to intervene, but didn’t yet make his presence known.
The woman stepped out of the shack. She walked with creeping
slowness, easing herself out into the daylight, almost shuffling across the
dirt, except her steps and posture were too graceful to be called a shuffle.
She was almost drifting over the ground with dream like detachment.
She was tall, fit, exotically beautiful with clear brown
skin. Long black hair hung down over one shoulder, almost obscuring the right
side of her face. Her eyes shone with a wild green light, glowing beneath the
shadows cast by her hair. She wore nothing but a coating of human blood,
flecked with bits of bone and scraps of flesh, splattered across her from head
to toes.
Shady raised her eyebrows at the sight, not sure what to
make of this new woman or how to approach her. A glance told her the woman’s
name, so she opened with that. “Illia?”
The new Omny didn’t acknowledge her at first. She stopped in
the middle of the road, still staring ahead. She took a long breath, slowly
inhaling, then exhaling, as if savoring fresh air for the first time in years.
She looked up at the sun and stared and for a moment had a hint of a smile.
Shady took a relaxed stance, settling back on one foot and
waving. She spoke in Spanish, knowing it was the young woman’s native language.
“Hola, chica! Looks like you had a
heck of a start, huh?”
Illia’s faint smile faded, and she turned her head with a
deliberate slowness, to gaze at Shady. Their glowing gazes met, and Shady’s
grin faltered a bit, before she forced it back into place. Illia stared back
with an almost dead-eyed expression.
Shady pointed. “You, uh, got some red on you.”
Illia didn’t look down, but she did reach up and wipe her
forearm over her lips and chin, wiping some of the blood off. Not enough to
make much difference, though. She kept her arm held up, her gaze dropping down
to it. She tilted her head, as if studying the red fluid, then licked a tongue
full off her arm. She closed her eyes and held the blood in her mouth, savoring
its taste, before swallowing. She opened her eyes, lowered her arm, and gazed
at Shady again.
She did everything with agonizing slowness, like a spider
creeping towards its prey. Shady tensed up as Illia turned fully towards her,
and she sensed the blood-drenched woman cast her senses forth to study her.
Shady prepared herself, expecting at any moment for the woman to pounce at her.
From another dimension, she felt Jax coil himself to interject, but Shady told
him to hold off for the moment.
Instead, the woman flinched, and blinked, and her manner
shifted. She glanced around rapidly, her breath quickening. “Wh-what… what
was…” She looked down at herself, eyes widening, and she whispered, “Oh.” She
glanced up to Shady, glanced around again, then back at herself. “Oh.”
Shady offered a sympathetic smile. “You okay, honey?”
“I think… I think I am now. Maybe. I can’t… I can’t tell…”
The woman waved a hand over herself and the blood vanished. She stared at her
hands, particularly her fingers, the nails long and painted green. She smiled.
“Yes. Yes, I think I’m good. Finally. Finally, I’m good.” She turned her face
to sky and laughed, staring again at the sun. She closed her eyes and tears ran
down her cheeks. “Thank God, I can think again! I can feel again! I can—” She
collapsed to her knees and wept. “Oh God. Oh God.”
Shady shifted awkwardly. She stepped closer and patted the
woman’s shoulder. “There, there, honey. Just take a moment.”
Illia looked up at her, still teary-eyed. “You don’t
understand, I was… I was down there for…”
“I know, hon. I know.” Shady gestured to the mess of
shattered and splattered bodies around them. “I can tell you’re coming into
this under some extremely shitty circumstances.”
“I was a sex slave,” said Illia. “They used me as a fuck
pump for almost eight months.”
“I know,” said Shady. “I can see it.”
“God, eight months. But where was I before that?” Illia
gazed into the middle distance, but Shady could detect she was searching her
own past. “Oh. Right. The asylum.” She frowned. “That was hardly any better.”
“Asylum, huh?”
Illia looked back up at her with a haunted gaze. “I think I
was insane. I was insane when they found me. It was a shitty, rundown building
where they just sent people like me when the doctors had no options. And the
cartel broke in to find drugs, and they took some of us.” She blinked, and
glanced back to the shack. “You… took the others…?”
“They’re fine.” Shady really wasn’t used to being the
caretaker type. “And you’ll be fine. Trust me. You’re all powerful now, no one
like them can hurt you again. You’re free.”
Illia shook her head, tears welling up. “But I’m crazy! I
have these moments, where I just… my mind just fades away, and it’s like… like
this animal takes over.”
Shady smirked. “I don’t think you’re appreciating what I
just said. You are all-powerful now.
Anything you want, you can have.” She paused. “Well. There is the Etiquette to
consider. But we’re currently doing a little revision of that in regards to
Earth.”
Illia paused and pondered, and the standards of the
Etiquette were known to her, at least initially. “I… I see… but…” her brow
furrowed, and she looked up to Shady in a small panic. “But that’s my point!
What if I… blank out again…? What if my thoughts scramble again? And to have
this power and be that unhinged, how can I be trusted to—”
“Hey,” Shady cut her off. “Do you want to be crazy?”
“No, of course not.”
“Then don’t be.”
Illia’s brow furrowed. “I… what…?”
Shady shrugged. “I already told you. You’re all-powerful.
You get what you want, when you want it, barring the Etiquette, which should
not in any way stop you from fixing whatever faults with yourself you want to
fix. You don’t want to be crazy anymore? Than just decide to stop.”
Illia stared at her blankly. “I can just… not be…?”
Shady gave her mind, her whole essence, a thorough scan, and
Illia was too thrown off guard to stop her. “Gunna be some traumatic memories
to work through. Probably going to translate to some strange impulses from time
to time. But from what I can tell, I think you’ve already patched yourself up.
Ascension tends to eliminate any health issues we had as mortals, just reacting
to our needs automatically, and that includes mental health, it looks like. You
said it yourself, you can think clearly again now, yeah?”
Illia paused to consider, and nodded hesitantly.
“Well, there you go.”
Illia stared at her a moment, then the tears welled up
again, and she laughed. “Praise the Lord. Oh, praise the Lord!”
Shady laughed along with her. “Yeah, I don’t mean to
disrespect your religion, but you’re going to find our reality isn’t quite how
they taught you in Bible
School.”
Illia shook her head, still smiling. “I… I know… I just… let
me have this, huh?”
Shady let out a long breath, then glanced around to the gory
mess surrounding them. “Okay. Well. First things first, we need to clean this
up. I know how you must feel, but an incident like this is really pushing it
with the Etiquette.”
Illia stood, and her smile turned into a frown. “Men like
this exist all around the world. Women who help them exist all around the
world. Why should they be suffered to
live? Why should anyone have to suffer what I went through?”
Shady held up her hands. “Hey, I get it. I do. But we set
things up the way we did for a reason. And right now, we’re reassessing those
reasons. We’re looking to make sure this kind of life doesn’t happen to people
ever again. But we still aren’t going to just flagrantly take over the world
and force humanity to obey us through mind control. Okay?”
Illia’s frown maintained, but she once again scoped the
situation out with her new cosmic senses. As much as it upset her, she
begrudgingly knew the situation was more complicated than simply “let’s just
murder every criminal across the planet in an instant”. She felt her blood boil
for a moment, thinking about it, but unlike her mortal self, her thoughts
didn’t dissolved into a fuzzy haze, for her to wake up later with new wounds
and another person injured and god knew what else. This time, she was able to
retain her mental clarity and calm herself down.
Shady had tensed, not sure how she was going to react, but
upon seeing Illia relax, she did likewise, and put a hand on her shoulder.
“Hey. Tell you what. I got a nice little world where you can work out some of
that aggression on some more fuck heads who could use a little punishment. And
if that’s not enough, I know another place you can go to really go all-out.” Shady glanced again to the mortal remnants
about them. “You might like that place more, actually, but let’s start off a
bit simpler, okay?”
Illia took another long breath, and nodded. “Okay. Thank
you.”
“No problem. Hey, I know it’s a lot right now, but trust me.
The Omnyverse was built to be our oyster. You’ll be having the time of your
life before you know it.”
“I believe you.”
Shady grinned wide. “Good! You know what they say, always
believe women!” Illia’s brow furrowed again, and Shady waved her off. “Forget
it. Anyway, you want these fucks to stay dead, we can arrange this to look like
a rival gang came in an butchered them. Or we can bring them back to life and—”
“No. I won’t go after any others like this, but this group
stays gone.”
“Fair enough. Let’s clean this up, then.” Shady wished the
scene to change, and so it did, the cartel members reformed into their normal
bodies, just now the corpses were riddled with bullets, and several of the
buildings suddenly collapsed, looking like they’d burned down or been damaged
by grenades. All evidence was arranged to make it seem like a thorough attack,
though not necessarily enough to pin on any specific rival. It would be weeks,
if not months, before anyone even found the place at this point.
“Thank you,” said Illia softly, looking over her handiwork.
“Don’t mention it,” said Shady. “Now, come on. I know you’re
going to need some more action pretty soon, and I’ve got just the line-up of
scumbags for you to take some aggression out on.”
Shady teleported her off to one of her own Worlds, to let
the new Omny satiate her punishing desires. As she took one last look at the
cartel’s base, she had to admit that Cyl probably was right after all about
elevating humanity’s baseline quality of life. She couldn’t help but feel that
they’d all just dodged a bullet with Illia, and there was still a chance she
might become a problem later. If more Omnys were going to keep Ascending from
Earth, it would be a lot better for everyone if they didn’t emerge all twisted
up from broken lives. Even if it did give her less bad people to take her own
twisted desires out on, the last thing they needed was more cosmic trouble from
within.
If nothing else, Shady wasn’t ready to relinquish the title
of Top Troublemaker any time soon!
END
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