Chapter 17: Veil of Shadows

The world outside my window had always looked so calm—still, harmless. A blanket of normalcy layered over the truth I carried inside me. But I knew better. I lived behind masks: Ren, the quiet neighbor boy; Ren, Airi's shy classmate; Ren, the voidwalker who ruled in silence.

After school, the sun was beginning to melt into gold. Airi had lingered beside me longer than usual. She brushed her hand against mine, touching me more often now, whispering those warm, teasing lines meant to feel casual. But I saw through them—through her eyes, through her fragile hope.

We were neighbors, after all. Her house just across the road. Sometimes, her bedroom light was the last one I saw before retreating into the darkness of my own world. And still, she saw only Ren—the bashful, sweet boy next door. Never more.

As I walked home, each footstep felt rehearsed. I passed familiar faces: children shouting on bicycles, a man pruning hedges, a woman jogging with her dog. Everything screamed "normal." Everything lied.

Inside, the TV murmured softly. My parents were in their usual places—my mother folding laundry, my father nursing tea with steady hands.

On screen, a news anchor spoke with practiced urgency:

"This morning, a string of disappearances were reported across several cities. Victims seemingly vanished without a trace. Authorities suspect dimensional anomalies—though no official statement has been issued."

My mother clicked the remote, switching channels with a furrowed brow.

"These things aren't for you, Ren," she said, placing a warm hand on my shoulder. "But still… you should be aware. The world isn't always as gentle as this house."

"I know," I replied.

My father looked up, folding the newspaper. "You've grown quieter. Is everything okay at school?"

"Yeah," I said. "Just tired. Long day."

They didn't press. They never did.

In my room, the silence greeted me like an accomplice. I closed the door behind me, slid the mirror aside, and pressed my fingers to the glyph carved into the wall. A low pulse answered—familiar and ancient.

A slit of light appeared—folding inward like space itself bowed before me. I stepped through.

This wasn't the empire.

This was the base beneath my house. A personal fortress built from my power, a sanctum free from both the world above and the dominion I ruled elsewhere. Here, things were simple. Steel walls. Cool light. Quiet corridors pulsing with silent energy.

And here, she waited.

Elira.

She didn't know about the empire. About the goddesses who whispered my name across realms. About the endless stasis pods filled with exotic women bought from the multiversal slave markets. She knew only a fraction—only that I had power, that I could bend space, vanish and return as if reality were cloth in my hands.

She lived in this base, her room nestled in the heart of it like a secret I didn't dare release.

When I entered, she looked up from the book in her lap. Her eyes lit up instantly, a soft gasp escaping her lips. She was dressed in a loose, silk robe that clung to her curves, the fabric shimmering in the low light of her room. Her hair cascaded down her back, a waterfall of dark curls that seemed to absorb the light, giving her an ethereal glow.

"Ren," she breathed, rising to her feet. Her movements were graceful, almost hypnotic, as she padded barefoot across the floor. The robe parted slightly, revealing a glimpse of her thigh, smooth and inviting.

I nodded. "I had time."

Her room was warm—soft light, velvet cushions, the scent of lavender filling the air. She moved with a purpose, her hands trembling slightly as she reached for mine, her touch electric.

"You came again," she said, her voice a soft purr. 

"I don't come without reason," I replied, my voice steady despite the storm raging inside me.

She bit her lip, a gesture that sent a jolt of desire through me. "I know. But I still hoped."

She pressed her head against my chest, her breath hot against the fabric of my shirt. She held on tightly, like the moment might fade if she blinked. I could feel her heart racing, matching the rhythm of my own.

"You always act so distant," she whispered, her voice muffled against my chest. "But when you're here… it's like everything else disappears. Like I'm enough."

I didn't answer, but my grip on her tightened, betraying the turmoil within me.

She didn't know about the marketplace hidden between dimensions, where beings of myth and magic were auctioned behind veils of energy. Where I had just days ago bought everything—slaves, weapons, relics. I had left no item untouched, no woman unclaimed. Elves, demons, goddesses older than stars—each sealed in stasis, now mine.

All of it was stored in the empire I had forged within my personal dimension.

Not here.

Never here.

Elira lifted her head, her eyes locking onto mine. She brushed her fingers over my cheek, her touch sending shivers down my spine. "Why do you always look like you're somewhere else?"

Because I was.

She kissed me then—soft, tentative at first, but quickly deepening into a hunger that matched my own. Her lips were soft and yielding, her tongue exploring my mouth with a fervor that took my breath away. I responded in kind, my hands tangling in her hair, pulling her closer.

She moaned softly, the sound vibrating against my lips, sending waves of desire crashing through me. Her body pressed against mine, the silk of her robe doing little to hide the heat of her skin. I could feel every curve, every line of her body, and it drove me wild.

I broke the kiss, my breath ragged. "Elira," I whispered, my voice hoarse with need.

She smiled, a slow, seductive curve of her lips. "Yes, Ren?"

I didn't answer, instead, I lifted her effortlessly, her legs wrapping around my waist. I carried her to the bed, laying her down gently. Her robe fell open, revealing her body in all its glory. She was perfect, every inch of her a work of art.

I trailed kisses down her neck, her collarbone, my hands exploring her body. She arched against me, her breaths coming in short gasps. I took my time, savoring every moment, every touch, every sound she made.

When I finally entered her, it was with a slow, deliberate thrust that made her cry out. I moved with a purpose, my body responding to hers, our rhythm matching the beat of our hearts. The room filled with the sounds of our passion, our breaths mingling, our bodies moving as one.

Later, as we lay entwined, her head on my chest, I stroked her hair, my mind a million miles away. I thought of Airi's voice. Of her bright laugh. Of her hand in mine.

I thought of the empire—the frozen stares of the stasis-bound, their worlds left behind. My trophies. My subjects.

And I thought of what came next.

The veil I wore was thinning.

And someday… someone would see through it.

But not yet.

Not tonight.