Archive of Our Own

Noah broke. Nothing in his body was damaged besides his bloody knuckles, but his soul still crumpled like a sliced reed, and his flute clattered uselessly to the ground.

She was gone.

Mio, his Mio, smiling at him, had dissolved into a cloud of golden motes. Before his very eyes. “It’s been fun, Noah.”

The world outside had turned into a muted blur. He’d stared at the ground on his knees and elbows; he didn’t want to look up at the empty pile of clothes again. Gone. If he didn’t look, maybe he could tell himself it was a lie.

Despite the words in his mind being hopeful—maybe she’s still alive’—he felt no drive to resist as the soldiers lifted him by the arms onto his knees. His head hung low as he waited to be carried into the darkness by the golden consul’s blade. He would join her, soon.

But instead, everything flashed bright gold. He found himself disoriented, and almost fell over; everything felt warped and imbalanced. Standing at the top of those stairs, with his own face looking up at him.

The same smile as Mio had when she… Why would my face be smiling like that?

Before he could wonder what happened, the sword bore down on his(?) neck. Red motes and blood sprayed from both ends of the severed column, quickly slowing to a steady flow of pooling blood and rising sparks of life.

His friends faces darkened with horror. All their tears spilled freely, save for Riku, whose eyes only watered over. Lanz clearly tried not to, and his facial expression did hold like iron…but still the dark marks trailed his face.

How can I see so far? In such detail?

Sena faced the ground, sobbing gently. “Mimi…”

How am I hearing that from here?

“All for snuffing nothing…” Eunie rasped.

Noah’s ears twitched at a hiss of the wind. His nose too, reacted to the stiff chill of the morning breeze.

Taion’s breaths came ragged and heavy.

I can smell their rage. Their sweat. The salt in their tears.

Noah’s eyes widened in confused horror. What was going on? How had he gotten up here? Why was he alive when his flesh had already turned to a grey husk?

He stared at his trembling hands, clothed in dark gloves and silver gauntlets. There was none of the expected sting from his ruined knuckles, despite the snugness of their grip. Constricting fabric clung tighter to his body than it ever had before.

He whispered, “What’s happeni—”

Several gunshots within the span of half a second interrupted and made him flinch and instinctively reach for his blade. Too loud! Much too loud! Those shots must have been mere metri away!

But…no. At the bottom of the stairs was a line of bodies where his friends had been kneeling, another line of Agnian soldiers behind them, and red motes bleeding into the sky as their skin turned grey. Their positioning seemed to frame N in the centre of Noah’s vision, heading up the stairs, footstep after metallic footstep clinking against the stone.

Nearing the top, N spoke, “So, that weakling is gone at last. Him and the little flies he’d gathered around him.”

Noah stared blankly at him. Flies? He called Noah’s friends flies?

“How about you, my love? What did you think of my little sideshow?”

“What?” Noah’s voice came out softer, higher pitched than he was used to, but still tinted with anger as intended.

N frowned. “Oh, come now, are you still upset, M? He couldn’t protect her. He was nothing.”

He called me M. That silver Moebius. Her power. Could I really be…

Noah(?) let out an airless laugh, finally understanding. What cruel irony. The only one with nothing to live for was the only survivor.

The false Agnian queen continued on with a speech about the price of ‘treachery’, which Noah purposely tried to block out. To call Sena, Taion and Manana traitors, at the same time as hail Mio as worthy of Homecoming? The hypocrisy was disgusting.

N must have taken Noah’s laugh as mockery, because his expression grew dark, and his voice took on tones of barely restrained rage as he continued, louder with each word, “Don’t you see? I had to do it, and this was the proof. Would you wish me to be in the same position he is now?” Yes. Oh yes I would. And you are. “He was weak, and suffered for it. I’m not like that miserable insect. Together, we get to live, because I made the necessary sacrifice. I accepted the strength Moebius offered me, and in so doing saved you.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that…”

“Should I not be? Are you not standing before me now, still?”

He could hardly believe N didn’t see through him in an instant, staring like a bewildered and very angry fool.

Noah wanted to laugh again, but with dark amusement this time. N did not have M any more; he had driven the blade down on her neck with his own hands. N had taken Mio and M both away, and didn’t even know it.

“You’ve already lost ‘me’,” Noah spat. “And it was your own fault.”

But rather than the intended effect—at least being shaken by the retort—N laughed. “As if I haven’t heard that one before. You’re adorable when you pretend to hate me, you know that? That look in your eyes. Your attempts to sound intimidating…”

N smiled. The mudder smiled as he lifted his gloved hand to M’s silver mask, pressing something to vanish it into purple dust, and then caressed his cheek with still-bloody fingers.

Noah held his breath, lungs feeling tighter and tighter with every second passing. He clenched his fists and face contorted with growing rage. That blood was his own—or M’s, he supposed—but it might as well have been his Mio’s. Might as well have been that of his friends.

N continued, “Even the way you scrunch up your little mouth in that cute little pout…” He patted Noah’s cheek as dismissively as if he were a first-termer insisting he was as deadly as the Queen’s personal guard. “Fine. You ‘hate’ me. Whatever you say, kitten.”

N leaned over the shoulder of Noah, who had no trouble hearing the gravelly rumble of his voice, “I suppose I won’t see you in our chambers tonight, then. This time you’ll be able to keep your hands off me.”

Noah opened his mouth to finally release some of the pressure of holding his breath, and found himself running a tongue over M’s teeth; he felt the prick of her—now his—fangs.

What were the chances he could rip N’s throat open this very instant? Just end that bastard, here and now? He leaned closer, breathing slowly so as not to alert N to his plan, letting his teeth poke at the skin—

“I knew you couldn’t keep up the act.” N looked very proud of himself and pulled away, which led Noah to nearly fall over. He quickly realized the heels of M’s uniform were to blame for how wobbly his legs were. “That’s a new record. You’ve never given in to yourself so quickly before, have you?”

Noah found his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. He now very vividly recalled the memories of Mio’s teeth digging into his shoulder to silence her pleasure during the all too few times they had together in the City. M must have been the same. Go snuff yourself, I wasn’t trying to do…that.

“I’ll give you a few minutes to follow me to our chambers. Unless you’d rather I fuck you here?” He smirked and stepped closer, his eyes flashing with a terrifying gleam. “In this very courtyard, before ‘her Majesty’s’ eyes? Would you like that? To show everyone”—He meaningfully angled his eyes towards the crowd of Agnian soldiers still listening to her speech—“how fully you belong to me?”

Noah shuddered. What kind of sick mind even came up with such ideas?

As he was about to tell N clearly to go snuff himself, the false queen’s speech turned to the evils of ‘Keves’.

It boiled his blood further. These soldiers would never know how alike the two sides really were. They’d go back to the endless war, never knowing how Lanz, Eunie, and Riku had all fought to save them all from the suffering the real enemy wrought on them. And what would the City do without Ouroboros? All those lives eaten up by Moebius’ greed, or forced into the cycle Shania had eagerly accepted.

And it was all N’s fault. N had done this. N had stolen Mio away from him.

A plan brewed in Noah’s mind. A way to break N’s heart and spirit, even more thoroughly than he had done to Noah. To make him suffer the same pain of loss, or worse.

If Noah couldn’t break this cycle, he could still take revenge.

“Fine,” he said. “Have it your way, N.”

N grinned, and curled a hand around the small of Noah’s back to pull him closer. “That’s what I thought.”

Noah immediately began second guessing whether this was a good idea when he realized for the plan to work, he would have to actually reciprocate a bit.

He’d simply have to swallow his disgust. Their lips met in a kiss he tried to fake some enthusiasm for. Just pretend he’s Mio…

Immediately he noticed differences in the experience of kissing. His own skin felt softer, and those of his enemy rougher, yet unless he surrendered and allowed N to guide it entirely, it was obvious whose body held more force. Agnians had always been stronger, he supposed.

The sound was different also; he felt the uncanny sensation of his own ears swivelling about every so often, and picking up such loud sucking and smushy wet noises. Was this what Mio used to hear? He almost marvelled at how she put up with him.

The sounds his own body produced though? The occasional hum coming from her throat? They were as cute as when Mio made them.

Then there was the blood. My blood, he thought with a drop in his stomach, as the red substance smeared over his own lips, and was smuggled into his mouth by N’s tongue.

The blood was…intoxicating? To his nose it was a heady, heavy scent, and to his tongue a metallic taste tickling every corner with his own life essence. It seemed to accuse him for how involuntarily pleasing the flavour was; he couldn’t be enjoying this, could he? The tang of murder on his tongue? N was the type to enjoy that, not Noah.

But then, it depended on whose blood it was, didn’t it? Even knowing her to be Moebius, he couldn’t imagine M to be truly evil. He just couldn’t.

Not after willingly taking his place at the execution block.

Not when she looked like Mio.

She was innocent. Her blood—from his body—was innocent.

N’s was not. So he bit down on N’s lower lip, digging his fangs in and letting that rich, iron ichor flood his mouth. Justice tastes good, he thought. So good he moaned, then felt his face flush a little at how cute that throaty, feminine noise had sounded. It wasn’t strange to feel that way, right? M’s voice was just like Mio’s.

Somehow, the kiss didn’t end immediately. N seemed to ignore the pain, or not feel any.

He instead felt at Noah’s crotch, rubbing harshly through the bodysuit. The pressure was pleasantly tingly, but alien; he was smooth down there, with no sensation of a growing erection he’d normally associate with this heated feeling.

Noah found his hips rolling with the motions of N’s hand. He quickly felt guilt for this sort of pleasure, and it only worsened when he reached for Noah’s ears and his knees felt like they would buckle if he didn’t push into N for support. The way N stroked behind the scruffy grey triangles, just like Noah did for Mio? It sent shivers down his spine and made his head light.

Their kiss broke apart—and Noah very nearly fell over again, damn these heels, why did anyone wear these things?—connecting them by a trail of bloody saliva, and similar warm fluid trickling down the corner of both their mouths.

Noah panted for breath, and his catlike ears protested the loss of the fingers fussing at them. “W-well? What now?” he challenged. “Is that all you’ve got?”

N laughed. “I wasn’t completely sure, but I was right. You’re so ready for me, it’s delightful. Your body really wants me. ”

No it didn’t! Noah continued to lightly pant and buck into N’s hand to try and hurt him physically! Maybe he could break the wrist that way.

“You do want everyone to watch me use you.” N continued.

For very different reasons, but yes. “And what are you going to do about that?” He ran his hands down the side of his chest and tried to strike an attractive pose that made use of his new curves…but without a mirror he had no clue if he’d done it right.

“I’m going to fuck your throat.”

Oh.

Oh.

Noah slowed to a stop and gulped.

Fuck.

He’d thought he could wing it with normal sex, at least, if N was on top. But Noah didn’t know how do what Mio did; he didn’t know how to suck a dick.

And throat? How was he supposed to do that without choking?

Now would have been a really good time to suddenly be granted a barrage of memories left over by M.

…

Nothing. Shite.

“Why the elook in headlights expression? You know what to do.”

He didn’t, but N helpfully put a hand on Noah’s shoulder and pushed him to his knees as a start.

Shania tried not to fidget, but this was exciting! Ouroboros had been booted back into the cycle—save for one—and she would soon follow into glorious, freeing immortality! Never more being burdened by the loathsome memories of her miserable life, and rotten ‘mother’.

Or it would have been exciting, if there was an end in sight to the queen’s speech.

“Erm, when am I supposed to be sent into the cycle?” Shania whispered to X, who stood beside behind her. It was easy to remember that one’s name because her helmet made it completely obvious before she even introduced herself. “I thought it’d be after that lot had been executed.”

“You thought right!” X replied, chipper as ever, though she sounded a little more…breathy, than usual. “It will be after their execution. It’s still ‘after’ it, and will be in an hour or a month or whatever.”

“… What? You’re joking, aren’t you?”

“Just live in the moment for a bit. Z spent an eternity perfecting the script for her speech, and you’ll still get what you want as long as you die in less than ten years.” X let out a weirdly drawn out sigh. “Besides, there’s plenty of entertainment here, if you’re willing to look around.”

Shania sighed. “If you say so.” Best not to piss off someone who would be her boss soon enough.

She tried to find this so called ‘entertainment’, but there wasn’t anything to see but a robot queen droning on; Agnian soldiers whispering to one another and pointing up the stairs; the silver consul on her knees sucking the golden consul’s co—

“Wait, X?!” she hissed loud enough to almost be a shout. “What the fuck are those two doing?!”

“Entertainment~” X said in a way that could only be called a moan.

A cat-eared woman bobbing her head on some man’s cock was not what Shania called entertainment!

She turned around and flinched at the sight of X, sans helmet and crotch armour, rubbing her own sopping, pale cunt out in the open. Shania briefly wondered what the texture of those gloves felt like, before managing to force half a word out, “Wh-wh—”

“Oh, relax,” she purred. “You should get used to this. Those two freaks get up to this kinda thing all the time during meetings, S.”

She’s not exactly ‘normal’ either if she’s doing this out in public. Also, “My name is Shania.”

“Oohhhh, yeah, sure, that’s what I said.”

Shania sighed. “You’re crazy.” Be stuck here watching three weirdos getting off in public and listening to a ridiculous speech, or skip to her rebirth now with Titania’s gun? Not a hard decision.

She lifted the gun to her head, and—

“Do that and you’re fired,” X panted.

Fired? “What?”

“If you pull that trigger now—ah—I’ll pull you out of the rebirth cycle. No eternity for Miss Suicide.”

“But… But…” But that wasn’t fair! Shania grimaced, but lowered her gun in defeat, as she hardly had any negotiating power here. She’d just wanted some guilt-free blood, guts and glory in battle—and more than a few bad memories wiped away—and this immortal sex pest was ruining it! She had no idea what X even got out of making her stay.

“Now.” X grinned, spreading her slit open with two fingers. “Since you have nothing else to do for the next 30 or so minutes anyway…”

Shania now had an idea of what X got out of making her stay.

She huffed angrily. “And why should I help you?”

“Oh, I dunno… Release some anger? Some stress? Punish me for being a little brat?” X slowly pushed a finger into her dripping cunt, sighing with an almost hypnotic mewl. “And…cuz I’m cute?”

Shania took a closer look at X’s face. Her eerie pale hair, pale flesh broken by a bright purple, glowing crack. Her deep red eyes. There was a purple butterfly shaped energy thing floating beside her head for some reason. She was giving the smuggest smirk any madwoman had ever.

Shania ground her teeth. She had been about to refuse and sulk in the corner until someone executed her, but the bitch had to actually be pretty.

“What about all the people watching? Won’t they see us?”

“Do you really care? Do I look like I care?”

“F-fuck, yes, like that, my perfect slut,” N groaned, guiding Noah’s head back and forth. “You wanted them to watch this, didn’t you? For his friends to see how you were made for me.”

Noah couldn’t answer, because his mouth was full, and his energy all went to trying to breathe. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes with the strain of not gagging.

N didn’t mind continuing without an answer, though. “I regret killing them so soon. I should have let them live a while longer, made them watch. Especially my pathetic other self. I wonder if he’d cry, seeing me take my woman after his own had turned to ash!” he laughed, pumping his cock harder into Noah’s throat.

Fiery anger burned in Noah’s veins. Sparking bastard. He had half a mind to slice his teeth through N’s prick this very moment. It’d be so easy to just back up a little—so he didn’t choke by leaving a severed cock in his throat—and chomp. Let the blood spray everywhere, a red faucet spilling into his mouth.

It would only be fair; N had removed Noah’s head, after all.

But no. The pain would come later. Let him enjoy it while he could, one last time. All the better to marr—to poison—this memory for him forever. To make N feel the same regret and despair he had. Trap the light of his pleasure behind that eclipse.

As for venting his anger, Noah applied a threatening pressure with his fanged teeth, and sucked more harshly. At least, he could say his technique was nothing that could be called ‘loving’; he practically headbutted N’s groin on every downstroke; his tonguework was less of a massage than an attack—all flicks, jabs, and pushes against his row of upper teeth.

N didn’t seem to mind the roughness at all. He took it as a sign to fuck Noah’s throat harder, and grip his hair tighter.

“So needy,” N remarked. “Look at you, can’t keep your hands off yourself. Are you aching for me already?”

Noah scowled up at N with M’s eyes. He hated to admit it, but despite his anger, and the struggle to handle N’s full seven inches, he was aroused. He’d spent most of the time during this blowjob feeling up his own body—M’s body, Mio’s body—and getting increasingly turned on.

Even through the thickness of the bodysuit, Noah could tell his body was so smooth now; all curves and plush, squishy arse and thighs. Every conditioned twinge of desire he had when he held Mio’s hips, still existed when running his hands over his hips. The sense of forbidden, delicious, thrumming excitement when he pressed a hand to Mio’s pussy through her skirt remained, and now added was the sparking jolt of electricity that made his hips jerk and his pussy clench—what a new sensation that was!

It was better, almost, because what while he’d lost knowing that he was pleasuring the woman he loved, he gained actually feeling it; knowing this was what she had felt when he did it to her.

The strangeness of the wet, sticky sensation on his crotch or the growing ache in his abdomen were uncanny, but he didn’t exactly hate them. On the contrary, he found himself wiggling his hips and pressing his thighs together to increase the pressure on his cunt.

He didn’t get it; he was a man. Being in a female body was ‘wrong’, so why did it feel so perfectly right?

His ears twitched; a wet sound came through the air, along with a woman’s rasping moans for “Harder” and “That’s it, the whole hand! Fist my fanny! Box my box!” He didn’t have time to look and see who was making them though.

The queen, for her part, still went on talking with all the situational awareness of a Levnis. Less, actually. Some Levnises could automatically detect motion or sound and use them for targetting, or to engage stealth mode.

The Agnian crowd… Those he heard murmuring among themselves. It made his lower belly throb to think they were watching in confusion, wondering what their consuls were doing. All those eyes on him tonguing N’s cock.

He should have found it humiliating—the normally private moment being witnessed by so many eyes; his apparent surrender to the man who had taken everything from him—but…well, whose cock was under the guillotine here?

He whined. Sparks, even his own pleasured sounds turned him on. He found himself making them on purpose, and never mind if N liked them too. Hopefully it didn’t ruin the effect of his scowl.

He pulled his mouth back, and then sank forward again, burying his nose in N’s coarse bush of pubic hair. One thing he could have done without was the smell. It wasn’t bad, on the contrary: it was too good.

With every breath he took, more of that primal musk his pussy—he didn’t think he could ever get used to referring to part of his own body with that word—refused to ignore as it coiled into his lungs.

He felt so empty inside. If he’d already gone this far, he might as well sate that need, right? Experience being filled?

He released N’s cock with a pop. “I-I’m tired of waiting,” he said, wobbling to his feet; his voice was hardly any less wobbly, and noticeably hoarse from the use of his throat. “When are you going to take me properly, N?”

N gave a rumbling chuckle from the bottom of his chest; a gravelly sound that set Noah’s feminine parts quivering. The overall impression of being ‘cool’ was hampered a little by how his cock jutted out in the open. “Very well. If you’re really that impatient.”

N kissed him again and groped around for something on Noah’s armour. With a click, it all vanished, leaving Noah’s entire body exposed to the view of dozens—if not hundreds—at the foot of the stairs, as well as the Queen’s Offseer squad.

He yelped, and his hands immediately rushed to the defence of his chest and dick—no, I don’t have a penis anymore, he reminded himself—to cover himself up. It was so strange to think a mere three months ago he wouldn’t have batted an eye at being nude in front of so many, but now their eyes all had a terrifying pressure, unrelated to them simply being Agnians finding him—a Kevesi—unarmoured.

“Hey, the Lady Consul is naked,” one voice told another.

“There’s no shower here, and even if there was, this ain’t the place fer it,” one of the offseers said.

“These are odd goings on,” another agreed.

It was a warm morning, so the cold had nothing to do with either Noah’s shivering or his stiffening nipples. He tried not to think about the way they tingled just from his arm-shield brushing against them. Or the mouth-watering scent of Mio’s pussy, which had already reached his nose so soon after being uncovered. “S-spark, I wasn’t expecting you to just— ah!”

N paid him no mind and scooped him up in his arms, which at least helped feel Noah less exposed… Though the hunger in N’s own eyes hampered that some. “Let’s find somewhere more fitting for us.”

He went down the stairs, to Noah’s disappointment. If they were going to somewhere private, why did N unclothe him in front of everyone first? And without an audience, how could his revenge achieve maximum public humiliation? How would he make N suffer as much as was deserved?

And on a side note, he felt it ironic that now the snuffing heels were gone and he could actually walk, he was being carried around instead.

Noah didn’t have to worry about his plan’s failure for long though, as they came to a stop in a large pool of blood, in front of a certain grey, headless thing that Noah could never forget.

“N? What are you thinking?”

The man’s deep blue eyes had a terrifying, arousing wildness to them as he grinned. The crowd of Agnian soldiers backed away from the scene, as if they too were afraid of what might be about to happen next. “What does it look like?” he asked far more softly than the look of insanity would suggest.

“What better way to celebrate victory over my long shadow—

—than to bend my woman over his husk while I fuck her?”

Noah’s breath caught. He had figured that N had some connection to him, somehow. Their faces were identical, and voices close enough that Noah could almost imagine speaking that way.

So how was it—

—that N’s had this kind of freakish madness in his mind?

But it worked better than Noah had hoped. He salivated thinking about the opportunity it gave him. “Sounds good to me,” he purred. Fire and sparks, I sound sexy.

Both quickly discovered literally lying down on a human body wasn’t comfortable or convenient at all. You couldn’t ‘bend someone over’ a corpse as if it was a desk or bed, unless it was on a desk or bed. The height was completely wrong and the shape was unstable even for using as a short chair.

So they decided on having N partly lay down in the pool of blood, and ‘M’ would ride him.

Looking down on him, the view of N’s hair haloed out in a sticky, bloody mess suited him quite well. Painted just the right picture. The stench of the blood was still sweet and rich to Noah’s nose, in spite of everything.

N tried to take Noah’s hips to control the process of guiding him down onto his cock, but Noah slapped N’s hands away. “None of that!” he insisted. “I’m doing this my own way today.”

“Are they wrestling?” a nearby Agnian whispered.

“Quiet, Cloyd, you’ll get yourself in trouble!” hissed back another. “Can’t you see her ears?”

N looked askance. “If that’s what you wish.”

Noah readied himself with deep breaths. The idea of penetration was a little frightening—even if his new hole begged for it—but this would be fine; he had fit inside Mio before, and N had surely had sex with M plenty.

First, he lowered himself just to basic contact. He spread those delicate lips he’d marvelled at so many times and let the bulbous head of N’s cock rub between them, spreading the slick glisten from his pussy it by moving his hips up and down. With his new senses, the scent of her body’s arousal seemed as strong and intoxicating as if it were right under his nose.

He let it glide up to his clit and shivered—his first real, direct touch on that new part of himself. It was much more sensitive than his cock had been, certainly. Teasing at Mio’s entrance had always been a delightful treat for him, but now he saw it was just as much for her as well—and just as much of a tease too, he noted. The clenching ache in his guts made him bite his lip with frustration.

A sweet pleasure bloomed as he sheathed the cock in himself slowly, millicetri by millicetri. The satisfaction of having something for his powerful inner muscles to squeeze on couldn’t be overstated; it was like a better version of scratching an itch deep in his ear with one of those buds Riku had always said were not to be used in the ears, but which everyone did anyway. Heat grew into a tingling rush.

It was utterly different to the pleasure of entering Mio’s wet, tight pussy, now that he was the one being stretched open, not being squeezed. He was the warm, slippery vice now.

He sank down further, and his mouth fell open into a wanton, beautiful gasp. This was his first time really hearing it; before, he had always been muffled by N’s mouth, or his cock. Now, the voice of M’s pleasure was free, and beautiful. The sultry, sweet tone rang in his ears as wonderfully as any laugh he’d ever heard when he told a joke that nobody else found funny but her.

Mio. Oh, Mio.

Why did she have to be gone?

An uneasy, sick sensation entered his stomach; an uninvited guest along with the pleasure. Remembering the loss hurt.

He distracted himself by listening to N’s own sounds. The low, groaning sigh he knew very well from memory of his own voice. The words growled, “Fuck, look at that! You’re so perfect around me. You really are begging for it, aren’t you?”

She was perfect around me, too. She begged for me to give it to her, too.

Noah let himself remember what this was all for. He let the hate flow, the resentment burn away the toxic sludge of pain and turn into fire. With a determined glare, he pushed down until that cock bottomed out in his guts.

Noah’s plan would be ready soon. He could do it now, to be honest. But first he wanted to explore what this new body had to offer him, seeing as it could be his only chance.

So he started a simple rhythm of sliding up and down. His own little involuntary grunts were rather exciting to listen to even on their own. His breasts bounced slightly with every drop—

That’s right. I have breasts now.

“Fuck, I love being a woman.”

N made a possessive remark about how yes, ‘M’ loved being ‘his’ woman, which was just more evidence his ears were crap.

Noaj eagerly groped at his own chest, squeezing the pliant flesh. Just like Mio’s, of course. They filled his hands perfectly, as always, and felt so sensitive. He sought out his nipples and whimpered at the sensation they gave when he lightly pinched them; it felt like tugging on a thread to his clit, somehow, and lightly circling them had a similar effect.

Ah, more to explore than just his chest, but he kept that up too with his left hand. With his right, he trailed across his smooth tummy, down through her soft, adorable bush of white hair above the sticky pink slit currently getting fucked…

His fingers knew what it was to be touching Mio’s pussy. They knew the pattern of her folds, and the feel of slickness, and the hot clutch of her insides. If he closed his eyes; tried to ignore how good it felt to roll her—his—clit between his fingers; tried to ignore that her sighs came from his own lips; he could almost pretend it was her, alive still.

Almost. He could not in fact ignore the way that nub sang pleasure with every touch and every circular motion.

And he let his own voice sing too: moans, yes, but also gasps, sighs, whimpers, whines, warbles, and pants.

He lifted his wet fingers to his lips for a sniff of the delectable aroma he’d been missing for over a month, and shuddered. He knew that scent too, though with M’s nose, the fragrance hit harder than it ever had before, arousing him so much it produced even more wetness down below.

Resisting the urge to taste her again was impossible, and once again, this was an area where the heightened senses overwhelmed. He wanted to cry but settled for moans of ecstasy as he sucked those fingers clean of her juices; the flavours burst in his mouth, carrying new tones and subtleties to what he’d already loved before, all delightful and scrumptious.

Drooling and wanting more he returned to his clit, rubbing tight, slick circles on it, and suddenly conflicted which sweetness he wanted—more of his pussy’s nectar, or more of this unfathomable pleasure.

Now purring was added to the list of sounds he produced in her perfect voice. Snuffing hell, he’d been wondering how to do that one! The rumble in his throat was deeply satisfying.

It wasn’t all sweetness though; along with the building tension in his loins, there was a tone of bitterness to his every sound. Bitterness at the man he was using to get this pleasure.

He dragged long, angry strokes along N’s cock. The anger made it feel better every time he sank down again; the righteous knowledge that he would pay.

Nipples, clit, N’s cock and his hands on his hips; all these streams of pleasure went straight to Noah’s core like life energy pouring into a Flame Clock, bringing him to an incredible crescendo.

“Wanna…see…something…neat…N?” Noah panted in time with his rocking hips.

He leaned close to N’s face, and activated his Iris, revealing the Ouroboros symbol in his eye. Not the red symbol of Moebius.

“What? Why do you have…” Fear grew on N’s face. “What is the meaning of this? You can’t be…”

“I’m Noah.” Noah tilted his head and giggled.

N’s face twisted in confusion. “You mean, back then, the two of you…”

His face visibly softened from confusion to horror as he glanced back and forth between Noah and Noah’s husk, putting the pieces together. Not that Noah made it hard; he’d spelled it out quite clearly.

That scream.

That beautiful scream was music to Noah’s new ears.

Perfectly timed with Noah’s own orgasm. His composure broke as his pussy clenched like a fist trying to crush what it contained rather than gently please. The pleasure flowed in heavy pulses second after second, euphoria filling his body as his mind gave in, vision fading in and out with each contraction.

N’s face looked gloriously pained as he turned to face the corpse—the body M had lived in momentarily, before N’s own blade cut her down.

His deep breaths sped into ragged hyperventilation. He shakily reached out to the husk and screamed again, “WHY, MIO?! WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO ME?!!”

In the golden afterglow of his first female orgasm, Noah actually started to laugh; just giggle and cackle in adorable peals of laughter as he pinned N’s wrist down—preventing him finding any semblance of closure he might find by touching the body—and bore his cunt back down on N.

“You!” N howled. He tried to push Noah off him as he spat and frothed. “My long shadow! You tricked me! You stole her away from me! You—”

“Nuh-uh-uh!” With M’s superior physical strength, he held N’s chest down, forced him to lie in the bloody bed he’d made for himself. “You did this, N!” he purred, eyes wide and frenzied. “You killed Mio!”

N continued his useless ranting, flailing and wretched weeping, and Noah kept laughing, harder and harder, throwing his head back, and rolling his hips harder and harder, clenching his cunt. He battered N’s cock with sensation, forbidding it to get soft, and forcing bodily pleasure on him in the depths of misery.

When N made the mistake of grabbing at Noah’s face with his freed hand, he got a finger bitten for his troubles, and then both arms were safely pinned.

Tears formed at the corners of Noah’s eyes and his cheek muscles grew sore, he laughed so much. Sparks, my voice is so cute.

This revenge was everything he’d hoped. The deep strokes into his cunt felt even better now, making his eyes roll in the back of his head. He was drunk and drooling from both ends on N’s despair.

He’d never forget this, however long he lived.

Neither of them would.

Z was not amused by the events which had unfolded on the amphitheatre screen.

The major portion of the entire event had been derailed by M and N’s mutual and sudden loss of decorum, followed by that of X herself. Derailed to such a degree, none of the Agnians paid any heed to the script he had painstakingly written for the machine imitation of Queen Nia. All without fail, found themselves entranced by the base, animal indulgences of his Consuls.

With one hand he gripped tightly on an armrest, and with the other he crushed the manuscript sheets into a ball, and tossed the projectile at the screen.

Z was not of the sort who pouted. Pouting was beneath the True Moebius.

He merely used facial expression to convey the slightest irritation that his plans had been totally eclipsed.