Her breathing was heavy.
Her head filled with voices.
Her chest rose with every breath, making her torn top strain against her curves. The fabric clung desperately to her skin, outlining one nipple that hardened slightly from the stress. Each exhale made her collarbones shimmer with sweat, the glisten making her look like a warrior sculpted from temptation and trauma
"What... are you doing, Domina..." she murmured.
but because something inside her had started to crack.
The face of Lilith, long ago,
appearing just as her bunny ears felt like they were going to explode.
"Don’t be afraid. The extreme conditions happening right now make me feel I must save you, little bunny."
Back then, her body had been smaller, but her thighs had already carried the tension of rebellion. Her bunny tail twitched when Lilith touched her, and her ears flushed. She hated being called "little," but deep inside, her body remembered the way warmth had spread under those words.
Livia shut her eyes tight.
"I’M NOT... A LITTLE BUNNY!"
She screamed, slashing the air.
But her claws hit nothing.
Her lips trembled like a child refusing to admit they missed home.
Elsewhere, Velmora sat. She was no longer holding her bow.
Her hands covered her face. The tips of her fingers trembled— as if they were weaving old wounds into something fragile.
"I... a queen... a leader? My honor... damn, why..." she whispered.
Her bow transformed back into a trident. And the trident remained still. Unresponsive. As if it understood— Velmora’s confusion wasn’t something a weapon could fix.
"I... I’m still alive. My people? No... they..." She sank deeper into grief. "I stained my people’s trust. I survived... only to play with the disgusting meat of a creature I can’t even identify..."
A strange anger twisted her face. Her eyes shot a sharp glare toward the dome where Nathan sat. Tears had smeared her cheek, but her cleavage jiggled with fury as she stood. The torn leather barely covering her chest had snapped at the strap, exposing more than intended. Her trident pulsed near her thigh, the vibrations of old power brushing against her inner leg like a forgotten lover’s whisper
Validia stirred, then rested her head on Nathan’s lap, her back reclining gently onto the ground. Her body was soft— but her breath had calmed.
Her cheek pressed against Nathan’s bare thigh, smearing warm tears down to the root of his shaft. His cock twitched—exposed, dusty, humiliated—but it stirred. Not out of lust, but because it was touched like something sacred. Validia didn’t notice. Or maybe she did—and chose not to care.
Nathan’s cock twitched again—not from arousal, but from sheer overstimulation. Validia’s soft lips had accidentally grazed the base like a blessing in the wrong religion. Her breath hitched slightly, and for a moment, her tear-smeared face rested right beside it—serene, warm, and obliviously pornographic.
Validia was crying silently.
Tears streamed down her cheeks,
falling directly onto the base of his thigh.
’I still don’t understand,’ Nathan thought.
’But I’ll love them anyway.’
He gently stroked Validia’s head.
She curled into his lap, her tears dripping onto Nathan’s skin— warm, innocent, yet still stirring a slight twitch in his cock.
Meanwhile— Morvessa stood among the rubble.
But she began to sing.
Not with her voice— but with her heartbeat.
"If sound cannot heal... then let it destroy."
Wind began to spiral around Morvessa.
Metal objects floated gently.
Lilith remained silent.
A faint smile still on her lips.
"Come... Finish it all... in the way you understand best."
"Let me handle my little sister," she said, staring at Livia.
Morvessa’s voice began to rise.
but from every pore in her body.
The ground cracked itself open.
Her thighs spread slightly for stability, unintentionally giving view of her inner softness beneath ripped cloth. The wind lifted the hem of her skirt, revealing curves trembling from sonic pressure. Her breasts bounced subtly with each rising pulse, nipples slightly erect—not from lust, but from pure physical strain.
Lilith stood motionless—
but her hair began to lift slowly,
as if listening in on a death song.
Morvessa’s voice transformed into a frequency:
high, dense, inaudible to ordinary humans—
but powerful enough to shatter logic itself.
Metal objects began to bend.
Livia’s claws, embedded in the ground, started to tremble.
Crystals shattered in the distance.
"I’ve been quiet enough..."
Morvessa raised her hand slowly.
but her eyes glowed with madness.
"If I cannot be healed...
then I will infect you instead."
Lilith took one step forward.
she clapped her hands.
Morvessa’s sonic wave collided directly
with Lilith’s calm, composed pulse.
The sound didn’t deafen the ears.
It silenced everything.
When the mist cleared,
Morvessa had collapsed.
Her shoulder bone fractured—
Lilith looked at her with a faint smile.
"You’re a beautiful woman.
Pity your brain needs more time to absorb important information."
Meanwhile, between the two caramel baddies—
Domina stepped forward. Slowly.
Livia still stood frozen in place—
but her gaze was sharp.
"You think I’m going to hug you?"
She simply bowed her head slightly—
then opened her arms.
"Don’t mess with me, traitor!" Livia shouted.
But Domina had already leapt forward.
Their claws collided.
Blue sparks burst into the air—
but Domina didn’t retreat.
"You... blocked my attack?"
Domina pushed Livia back with a single shove.
Livia stumbled—startled.
"I still remember... how we shared deer meat and slept hugging each other back at the training camp," Domina whispered.
Livia clenched her lips.
She attacked again—fast, sharp, emotional.
Domina caught her hand...
and pulled Livia into a hug.
"If you’re still angry, fine..." Domina smiled.
"I’ll hug you again once you fully remember." She try to release the hug.
Their bodies pressed together, sweat smearing between them like melting syrup. Livia’s chest heaved into Domina’s, their breasts squishing softly through tattered tops. Domina’s hand rested on Livia’s lower back, fingers barely grazing exposed skin. It wasn’t sexual—just dangerously intimate. The kind of touch that rewrote everything.
For the first time, Livia didn’t fight back.
She just cried—silently.
Far from the chaos and noise of Floor 100.
David stared at his phone screen.
It displayed one simple thing:
It read: "Online 2 minutes ago."
His thumb hovered over the keyboard.
The text already typed:
But David’s heart pounded
like he was about to take down a Floor 80 boss without gear.
"Why the hell am I nervous..." he muttered.
He gently put down his phone,
His eyes landed on a 15kg dumbbell in the corner of his room.
Usually, whenever emotions spiked,
he’d do 300 push-ups.
Or plank until he cried.
Or shadow spar until sweat trickled into his eyeballs.
This emotion—one he’d never felt before—was rising,
and for the first time,
he didn’t feel like getting rid of it.
"I can’t even remember proper plank form right now."
His hand slipped into his pants.
"This is weird. I want to touch my dick while looking at her photo... Shit."
David pulled his hand back out and sighed.
David was the kind of guy
who had lived his whole life to be strong.
Push-ups every morning.
He cursed wet dreams—
because he believed they weakened him.
He wanted to send "Hi".
Even felt like vomiting slowly from inside his chest.
"Shit," he muttered again,
opening social media and typing "how to send first chat to a girl."
But all the ridiculous things happening to David...
had pulled him out of the abyss of loneliness
better suited to have surfaced when he was still a teenager—
finally came together.
a longing for family that shook his mind.
an interest in the opposite sex
that might just bring him peace.
Meanwhile... elsewhere.
Fiona wasn’t thinking about David.
She was watching anime.
a scene of a white-haired guy,
grabbing the collar of his shirt—
Fiona bit her lip softly.
"His breath... why does it feel so hot..."
she whispered to herself.
The anime guy exhaled again.
His neck was visible,
a hint of collarbone,
Fiona instinctively pulled her blanket tighter over her chest.
"God... what is this... he’s literally just in a battle scene."
Her hand reached up to her cheek—cold.
But her body... was warm.
She paused the anime.
"Why can a guy’s breath make me ache ..."
She swiped the notif away—
thinking it was from someone else.
She was still thinking about that anime boy’s breath.
2:49 AM – Fiona’s Room
Fiona lay in bed, eyes wide open, one hand tucked beneath her blanket, pressing lightly against her chest.
But only because of that damn anime guy with white hair who had spent 14 seconds of screentime just breathing.
"His breath... why is it so hot...?"
She opened her favorite AI chatbot app: AnimaZone.
SatowuBot💨🖤 — a cold, mysterious white-haired swordsman who always replied like he was allergic to shirts.
> Fiona: I can’t stop thinking about your breath... Can you whisper it near my ear again?
A new notification from a different app.
Her friend had tagged her in a story:
> "When you’re awake at 3AM and horny for anime men 💀💀💀"
She snorted, tapped it, watched it—
but the notification bar still showed a blinking message:
> 1 unread message – Wazzup
The icon looked identical to her AI bot’s.
Still dazed, still turned on, and with fingers slightly sweaty from clutching her phone...
Fiona tapped the Wazzup notif, thinking she was going back to SatowuBot💨🖤.
She typed without checking the header:
> Just... breathe slowly again. Please.
Her soul left her body.