Black Moon Overture II
The Great Dao flies toward an even younger person in a high-school uniform from some private school.
Her chestnut hair reaches her dotted skirt while her jade eyes remain disinterested.
Overall, she looks more dead than The Archdemon of Death.
Sloth Sin Asherah
"Is this karma for wasting my parents' credit card on gacha games?" she asks in a whisper, adjusting her puffy headband and lazily turning toward the rainbowhead.
"The scary uncle was right. Memories are gone. I can't even remember their faces… I only vividly remember a survey with meaningless questions… Whatever. Do I get a bonus for becoming an Archdemon? Can I switch sides and join the heroes or whatever? Since there are villains, surely there are heroes. What are the drop rates? What's the difficulty?"
What the fuck is wrong with these people?
"Demons will remain demons, filthy and irredeemable," the rainbowhead spits, begging for a punch with his smug expression.
"That's kinda racist." The girl yawns, fixing her glasses. "Sloth? I'm not even that lazy. I lowkey grind twenty-four-seven. I don't remember much, but among all the games I've played, this kind of game I haven't seen. I guess I'm cooked. Whatever, I guess."
This time around, it's a green ball. It rushes toward her right cheek.
"It is what it is. Whatever happens, happens."
The Fragment of the Nature Pathway
On her right cheek forms a rose with every green color. Sparkly. Light and dark. Grassy and lime green, soft and sap green, and mint and pastel green all the same.
The rose blooms, all thorny and leafy.
Her eyes brighten, turning emerald, sparkling like an emerald would.
Her messy hair straightens and flows like honey, and her tired expression soothes into harmony. Calmness, seamless tranquility, complete and utter semblance with mother nature.
All the while, her skin dries further, her height lowers further too, and her hair brightens before lengthening, reaching her feet.
Two horns grow like branches.
The Archdemon of Nature,
The Lord of Nymphs,
Sloth Sin Asherah
Before her, a sword, just a straight wooden sword, minimalistic in its appearance, comes to fruition. Literally. Sprouting from the strands of her hair, the extension of her being.
Despite the smaller size of the orb she absorbed, especially in comparison to the time pathway fragment, this girl seems like the most capable among the bunch.
It's just a hunch, of course.
Yet something tells me within the facade of a high-schooler hides a…
"Whatever," she mutters. "I thought I'd get an OP ability. How unlucky…"
Lies. A masquerade. I can't tell where I've developed the instinct. Only one thing I can tell. One thing.
From her actions. From her lack of emotions. From her eyes. From her behavior. From her demeanor. I've been through innumerable life-and-death brawls, surviving on luck, petty tricks, and schemes. What kind? I don't know. When and where? I don't know. Yet, despite missing my memories, the animalistic instinct developed within me remains. It screams—
Avoid that girl.
Avoid that pain in the neck at any cost.
What may at first seem like an innocent youngling is in actuality a walking catastrophe sure to bring forth a cataclysm. A greater disaster that has never before been seen or is never to be seen after.
The rainbowhead directs his gaze elsewhere, dismissing the girl with slight annoyance.
No one else but me can see. What exactly?
"Uncle? Are you into younger women? What a creep."
She knows it. She knows something no one else does. Exactly what?
"I'm barely graduating from school this year. Well, I was about to."
I don't know. The fact that she's played many games before? Her being good at them? The presented probability of her already knowing this game?
No. That's where she's guiding us. These are merely distractors. A ploy.
I try and try, but no ideas come to mind!
How frustrating! Think!
Why am I so fucking stupid—
Lust Sin Takshaka
Oh? During the time I was ruminating, The Great Dao flew toward yet another individual.
Right, I can think about her later. There are more pressing matters at hand.
Why am I so hot-headed to begin with? Was I always like this?
No. I get unreasonably angry and lose control.
There's logic behind everything. What may seem unreasonable initially must have a reason behind it; I just don't know it yet.
Did they mess with my head?
The Fragment of the Decay Pathway
I slap my face.
It's not time to theorize but rather to gather as much information as I can! Concentrate!
"Why are you so harsh with your body? Friend?" asks a handsome bastard. "To care is to firstmost take care of yourself. Always. One must foremost care for oneself. Always. That's where you find love for the world. Remember."
Motherfucker, learn to talk before you point to others' inadequacies — is what I'd love to say. The rainbowhead be damned.
Unseal my fucking vocal cords!
Back to the handsome bastard. I look at him as a large pink orb pierces his lips.
There, a tiny bit above, whiskers sprout.
The lips enlarge and pinken, standing against his bronzed skin and reddish chin-length hair. Some of those strands change in color: a slight green, brown, and red.
Pink droplets mark the area between his lips and chin.
He grows body fur as a foxy, fluffy tail extends from his back, fiery, withering toward the tip.
Overall, he's dressed like a pimp. An expensive white and orange pinstripe suit, a repertoire of accessories like golden watches and shiny rings, and a fedora hat with tiger linings and a straight black feather.
He also has a disposition one would expect from a popular Hollywood actor.
The pimp guy swipes his poisonous, raspberry eyes through the rainbowhead, four spirally horns with pinky dots and varying shades of dark reds growing on his head.
Licking his jelly lips, he savors the boy's body proportions with his molten gaze.
"There's not an ounce of innocence on your cute little face. Fascinating. I don't think I would enjoy it as much as I'd love to. Then. But I do still love new experiences. Delightful. The younger they are—" His voice breaks.
Talk about creeps.
Well, this time, the sealing of the voice was justified.