image [https://i.imgur.com/67zCbGa.gif]

Stepping into our room within the longhouse, I let out a heavy sigh as the door shut and clicked locked behind me. “I despise this,” I muttered.

Belle met my gaze with a soothing touch, her hand gently tracing down my arm. “You’ve refrained from feeding on me, and I appreciate that, but I’m okay with it, you know. It means you won’t harm anyone else if your urges become overwhelming.” She nudged me toward the bed, gathering her hair into a ponytail and securing it with a hair tie from her pocket. After slipping off her boots and loosening her belt, she stood confidently, hands on her hips. "Ready?"

Sitting on the edge of the bed, I scowled slightly. “Why are you—”

With fluid movements, she straddled my lap and tilted her head to expose her neck. “Just bite into it. I can heal.”

As my hesitations melted away, a primal urgency took hold. This was the crux of my reluctance to normalise this act; the more often it occurred, the more I feared it would trivialise the gravity of consuming her blood—a gift I never wanted her to feel compelled to give.

As my hand followed the gentle curve of her leg, it eventually settled into the small of her back—another reason I didn’t like feeding on her: the unnecessary arousal it created. The aftermath left me feeling queasy, filled with a wish to retract my actions. However, it seemed an inherent part of being a Lust demon: poor impulse control was simply part of the package.

I pulled her against me, my teeth grazing her soft, sheen skin, every fibre of my body ignited by our closeness. As my grip tightened, my nails gently indented her back. After a bit of pressure my teeth finally pierced her resistant skin; her defence had dramatically improved as of late.

Belle released a barely audible moan that turned into a whimper in my ear. The sound was of—pleasure rather than pain and caused me to press into her neck more. Her tart blood rushed into my mouth, some no doubt spilling over my lips. While not the idea, the taste had grown on me.

This was the moment when my earlier assurances lost all meaning. It was undeniable that the situation had taken a sexual turn. We both understood, without saying, that this would remain unspoken afterward. Denial would be my confidante, and Belle would pretend nothing had occurred. Yet, sometimes, the truth slipped through in her affection, and I hated the fact I was to blame for this.

I had allocated points to the euphoria talent, not realising the profound effect it would have on converting discomfort into pleasure. Who would have thought such a mechanism would be effective on a Valkyrie? Traditionally viewed as immortal beings of purity, one might assume they'd be immune to such effects. However, it seems the system interprets this as a positive status rather than a negative one. Once I opened that door, her eagerness compelled me to create distance between us. Consequently, my feedings became so infrequent that it nearly triggered desiccation.

My hand began to slide up her shirt, moving toward her breast, but I stopped abruptly—I wasn’t going to feed on her anymore. Now, this was problematic.

Realising things were getting too intense on multiple levels, I pulled away and guilt surged when I noticed the depth of my bite. Belle's rapid healing was consoling, but the vivid image of the flesh being ripped open and hanging remained.

The mouthwatering red was so… I was not ready to feed on a human yet, but this also needed to stop.

Ugh.

“I didn't mean to—” I began.

She gently laid me back with her palm, her blue eyes filled with worry. “When was the last time you actually slept? It’s been months, hasn’t it? You can’t keep neglecting yourself like this. I’m really concerned about you.”

I took a deep breath. “I’m… The nightmares are overwhelming sometimes.”

Belle’s expression softened. “Those dreams aren’t your reality.”

My face twisted, the thought tightening my throat. “But they feel real. The emotions they stir up… it's terrifying."

“We’ll be okay.”

"Will we though? The looming possibility of seeing everyone perish because of my failings weighs on me… The world's burden grows more tangible with each day, and my confidence in making a significant impact continues to diminish. If my past efforts have faltered, what promises a different result now? It seems my fate is to fail."

Belle gently cupped my face in her hands, her voice a soothing note, “If tragedy befalls us, it won't be your fault. And I assure you, Fate is on your side.”

I swallowed hard, my thoughts heavily before they left my lips. "This isn't about blame. The burden I bear is more than guilt; it's the heartbreak of seeing those around me falter, their lives snuffed out before they've had a chance to realise their full promise. My role isn’t to save the world or fulfil a grand design. It's about empowering others to discover their own importance. To watch a life end before it has truly begun"—I clutched at my chest—“that is a tragedy I cannot, and will not, reconcile with. Ever.”

Belle tilted her head, her eyes narrowing slightly. “You know, you sound like an old man sometimes... Despite that self-centred act you put on, I can see you genuinely want to save—"

I interrupted her, my voice sharp. "Wanting to close the rifts doesn't automatically make me a hero. Who doesn't fear death, whether they're good or nefarious? Survival is an inherent instinct… What will I become when all this ends? A monster? Maybe I should turn the sword on myself when the time comes?"

Belle leaned in closer, her hair cascading around us like a waterfall of ice, her piercing blue eyes locking onto mine. “I believe the Kade I see before me is the best version that could ever exist.”

“How can you be so sure? How many times have you said those words to me in other resets?” I asked. “All we know, and it’s not even a guarantee, is that I’m the last iteration. If I falter now, if I make a mistake, there are no second chances.”

Resting her forehead gently against mine, Belle's voice was a soft whisper. "I can sense ill will in others, and you have none. Your intentions are pure; you genuinely seek to make a difference."

"Intentions are meaningless if I can't actualise them," I countered, the frustration clear in my voice, even as Belle laid her head against my chest, nestling into the crook of my neck.

I could feel Belle's lips part as if to speak, but she hesitated several times. Finally, she said, "You can cry if you want. I know it helps you feel better."

"I'd rather you not bring that up again," I replied, my voice flat. “I told you that wouldn’t happen again.”

Belle's hand tightened on my shoulder. "It's not weak to feel the weight of things. It means you understand the importance of this all."

That was something I didn't want to revisit. Three months into this, I had sobbed uncontrollably in her arms after a few nightmares—it made me feel vulnerable, and I hated feeling that way. I was stronger now and I never, ever wanted to feel like that again.

"I'm going to miss you terribly while you're away," she murmured, her fingers gently weaving through my hair. "I'll stay here and grow stronger, so I can be there for you when you come back."

I gently stroked her back, running my hand down the curve of her spine. "You know, no one's forcing you to stay by my side."

She chuckled softly, her breath warm against my skin. "And you think I could just stand by and watch? After everything you've done for me, how could I just be a spectator?" Belle paused, her voice growing more serious, "I was cast out of heaven for a reason, and I'm starting to believe it was to be by your side."

"But Belle, I don't want you to ever feel like it's your responsibility," I insisted, my hand pausing at her waist, the urge to slide my hand under her belt wrestling with restraint. "It doesn’t matter what the system expects, or what anyone expects. Your first priority is to yourself, to stay alive, not to sacrifice yourself for me."

Her lips formed a smile against my neck. "If the world is ending, then it’s a problem for all of us, myself included. I want to live a meaningful life, and I can't do that if this all ends premature." After a thoughtful pause, she shifted the conversation. "You mentioned something about me having my own room the other day?"

She noticed I stopped.

I exhaled deeply, aware of where our conversation was heading. "We're getting too close, and I think you know that as well."

"Is it because of Abble?" Her voice wavered with unease, and I felt her lips tense into a frown. "I sometimes feel jealous when you talk about her, even though I know I shouldn't."

"Please, don't—"

Belle sat up abruptly, my hand falling from her back. "I'm not trying to cause any trouble, but it doesn't mean I don't desire your attention. It's not unfair for me to express my love for you."

Ah, that word again. Why did it irritate me so much to hear her say it? It seemed it was the way she used 'love,' laden with implications that seemed to extend beyond mere affection. I became increasingly concerned, suspecting that she might not fully understand the depth of her feelings, possibly confusing them.

Propping myself up on my elbows, I met her gaze firmly. "You don't fully understand what that word really means."

Belle's expression shifted to one of disbelief. "How dare you question the authenticity of my feelings? Especially when you can't even admit your own love for Abble. You're the one grappling with the concept of love, not me."

Visibly irked, I shot back, "So you believe that your brief five months of existence, flavoured by a few books and poor examples around town, suddenly makes you an expert on love?"

Fuming, Belle rose to her feet, the soft bedding yielding under her as she towered over me. "You've had thousands of lifetimes, countless opportunities to get it right, and you're still an idiot. A dummy!"

I was taken aback; I had never witnessed this level of frustration from her before. The vexed expression that crossed her face when she called me a dummy momentarily diverted my attention. Though I knew I should be treating the situation with the seriousness it deserved, I couldn't help but find her agitation endearing.

"I… I apologise. That was uncalled for," I admitted, looking up at her, her expression now pouting.

With a sigh, Belle sank to her knees beside me, a stray strand of hair escaping her ponytail. She brushed it aside absentmindedly. "I just wish you'd do what I want."

"And what exactly is that?" I asked, cocking my head slightly. "I never explicitly asked you to leave. I merely suggested it. Don't paint me as the bad guy."

Her face settled into a flat expression. "Sounds like you're backpedalling."

"I'm not," I replied firmly. "If staying together in the same room makes you happy, I won't take that away from you. I do believe you love me," I insisted. "I just think there's confusion mixed into—"

She cut me off with a sharp, sceptical look. "M-kay," she said, arching her eyebrows.

"You're never quite satisfied, are you?" I sighed, my hand idly caressing her leg. "I'm honoured by the depth of your care for me, even if I suspect you're mistaking love for gratitude."

She scooted closer, her voice laced with a new, unspoken plea. "Could you… touch me more?"

More?

More?

What exactly did she mean?

More cuddling? We already did that a lot—when I was sleeping and not trying to avoid nightmares. But it had been some time, and I wasn’t sure if that was what she sought.

Where was this going?

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I blinked slowly. "What exactly are you asking for?"

As Belle shifted closer, her hand pressing into the bedcovers for balance, the fabric of her shirt tightened, accentuating her form almost to the point of revealing too much—had she loosened the strings earlier while I was feeding? "How about somewhere your eyes have lingered a bit too long?"

Was she implying what I thought she was? I longed for the days when she was still the naïve younger sister she had been just a few months prior. Now, equipped with an enlightened mind, I doubted she could grasp why I found this advance inappropriate, even momentarily setting aside my feelings about Abble.

"Belle—"

"You know exactly what I'm asking. Don't pretend otherwise," Belle interrupted, her tone insistent as she leaned in closer. "I know you understand. I can see the lust wisping off you right now."

I was momentarily speechless, my mouth opening and closing without sound as Belle’s face drew close enough for our noses to touch. "We can't," I managed to say at last. "Can we move past this, please?"

"Why not? You stare at my boobs all the time—"

Scooting away, I interjected, "I do not stare all the time. I've told you that this… demonic thing amplifies everything I feel. I'm learning to control it."

Belle chuckled, a lightness in her tone. "It's funny how you talk like you're ancient, yet get so flustered over something like this. It’s sooooo adorable."

"I'd prefer the sweet, innocent Belle I knew a few months ago," I replied, my voice flat. “This one is less cute.”

Belle's expression soured. "You're so harsh."

"I'm not trying to be harsh," I continued, "but this… sexy thing you’ve been doing lately makes me uncomfortable."

Tears shimmered in Belle's eyes. "You find my… sexy… weird? Why would you—"

"That's not exactly what I meant," I hurried to explain. "The whole situation just feels unusual to me."

Her reaction was swift, turning away so sharply that her ponytail whipped across my face as she shifted away from me. "Maybe I should just move to another room."

"Belle, you're making this more complicated than it needs to be," I said, sitting cross-legged. "Let's not escalate this into a full-blown argument. We both know you're ready for a fight."

Keeping her gaze away, Belle sighed. "I'm sorry. I don't know what I'm doing. Our relationship has some unhealthy aspects, and I know better. Lately, you've seemed distant, and I miss you. I don’t want to be a chore, but… You know… my world sort of revolves around you."

And that was the problem.

"I wouldn't categorise our relationship as unhealthy," I suggested, gently resting a hand on her shoulder. "We're both navigating new feelings—physically and emotionally. However, I regret that you've felt compelled to be intimate just to secure my attention."

It was a little unhealthy.

"I'm not a child, and I never have been," she asserted, her head still turned away from me. "I told you, my consciousness was just rebooting from hibernation. My mind is crystal clear about what it wants and how it feels… even if I don’t have any memories. There are women in this town far less mature than I was even four months ago, and yet their actions go unquestioned. Sometimes you treat me like a child, and it's demeaning"—Belle began fidgeting with her hands—“but being intimate isn't just about... Just because I'm a Valkyrie doesn't mean I don't have… needs… you understand what I'm trying to say."

Could Valkyries even experience… sin? Weren’t they against everything Fallen stood for? I suppose a desire isn’t inherently a sin.

"I get it," I nodded. "I promise to not treat you like a child anymore."

She glanced over at me, her eyes locking with mine. "Good. Remember, when you return to the future, I'll be much older than you. And trust me, I definitely won't tolerate it then."

"You're more mature than anyone here—even me," I admitted, settling back on my elbows. "Everyone else seems caught up in the glory of war and their carnal pursuits."

Moving to face me, Belle replied with a slight smile, "That's a low bar to clear, but thank you."

With a flicker of hesitation, she reached toward my chest, her hand pausing mid-air before she gently pushed me down and straddled me. As she sat back, she gingerly took my hand and placed it over her breast, her cheeks painted with a soft pink. "Can I put your hand here?" she asked softly.

Although we had often been close, this was different, imbued with a charge that was more than just the obvious. Lately, as I moved among people, I sensed an unusual aura around them—a tangible wave of lust that seemed to emanate even when it wasn't directed at me. I couldn't pinpoint a specific ability for this in my list of skills, but Belle now radiated a potent fragrance reminiscent of roses, markedly distinct from the scent of a virgin or her blood. Both were floral, yet this new aroma carried a hypnotic allure, compelling me to draw closer and breathe it in deeply, almost against my will.

I anticipated discomfort in the presence of so many familiar faces, disturbed by the possibility of sensing their lust—an awareness I would have preferred to avoid.

Should I indulge her request? Touching her seemed inconsequential, unlikely to lead to anything more, even if I permitted it. Belle wouldn't push boundaries. But could I be certain of that? Just an hour earlier, I had reflected on how she had shown little curiosity about such matters.

My denial was becoming increasingly hard to ignore.

Against what was probably my better judgement, I gently rested my hand on her breast, a move that seemed to catch her by surprise even though she was asking me to do it. As my fingers pressed into the fabric of her shirt and I felt the soft give of her body, a jolt of realisation shot through me, causing my heart to give a single beat. At that moment, I pulled my hand away like it had touched fire.

Belle's face flushed a vivid red, so much so that I might have been concerned she wasn’t breathing, but like me, she didn’t need to. "Do you… do you want me to take my shirt off?" she shouted, her voice louder than intended. Quickly realising her volume, she added, "Sorry, I don't know why I yelled that." She then averted her gaze, her voice softening. "I am being too pushy, sorry."

"I… you… can if…"

No. No. NO. NOOO.

Regret was creeping in. If she pushed any further, I was going to give in. Was I seriously considering… with a Valkyrie? With Belle? I shouldn’t. I couldn’t.

I could really use a knock on my door from Takeda right now.

Bell's fingers gripped the hem of her shirt, a slight tremble in her hands. "Why do I feel embarrassed? It’s not like you haven’t—"

I snatched her wrists. "Don’t."

Belle looked at me, concern etched on her face. "Is it because I said I was embarrassed?" She tugged at her shirt again. "I’m okay, really. It’s… this is something that deserves a bit of modesty, right? That's a normal response, isn’t it?"

I nodded quickly. "Yes, absolutely."

“Then let me take it off?”

My mouth opened and closed, struggling for words. "Where do we draw the line?"

She cleared her throat and averted her eyes. "It can go as far as you… want.”

My grip on her wrists eased, but I didn't let go.

As Belle leaned closer, I relinquished my hold on her hands and our noses touched. "Are you okay?" she whispered. “Can I move in the—direction I want?”

"For now," I murmured as she nestled her face into my neck.

Her lips grazed my skin, followed by the warm caress of her breath. Her smile pressed gently against me, blossoming into soft meek kisses that grew bolder as she travelled up my neck to my cheek. Her heart usually beat fast, but now it fluttered at an unprecedented rate, a quiver I could even feel in her lips. Belle's fingers threaded through my hair, sending a rush through me that made my heart jump a couple beats before returning motionless.

"I heard that," Belle said, her voice laced with nerves. "I'm so anxious," she mumbled into my ear. "Please, no laughing, okay? I’m going to be awkward."

She was going to take this too far.

"Your heart is loud, too. It's setting off my echolocation," I replied, my words coming out a bit stumbly. "You talk as if I've… done something like this before."

Why wasn't I stopping this? It resembled the overwhelming hunger I sometimes felt, an urge so strong that resisting it was a true battle. Yet here, in this moment, I wasn't fighting at all. The impulse seemed innocuous, almost as if it carried no consequences—yet I knew it did.

I shouldn’t have stepped into this room; I didn’t anticipate being so weak here. Pathetic, Kade.

“What unholy act am I about to witness?” Cain asked, lounging against the doorframe with his shirt hanging open and his pants riding low on his hips. “The notion of a Valkyrie succumbing to sexual desires is certainly novel.”

Belle detached from me in a blur and positioned herself directly in front of Cain, her piercing gaze locked onto his. "Leave this room or I will kill you. You're interrupting."

Shit, Shit, Shit. Why… Why was he here? This was bad. Really bad. Fuck, this was going to alter things too much.

Sitting up, a sense of dread settled in my stomach, rendering me speechless.

“Interrupting?” Cain’s lips curled into a mischievous grin, his sharp canines on display. "You might be a Valkyrie, but you underestimate the disparity between our levels."

"I won’t let you touch Kade," Belle shot back, her intense eyes still fixed on his blood-red stare. “The size of this gap you perceive is irrelevant to me.”

With incredible quickness, Cain snapped her neck, causing a violent crunch, which sent her collapsing lifelessly to the wood floor. "Don't worry," he said, raising his hands in mock surrender as I growled at him. "She's not dead. But I must say, a hundred thousand damage points is a record for me. She's clearly invested in her defence stats if her head didn’t twist off."

Knowing that Belle was immortal did nothing to quell my impulse to attack him. Cain's malevolence was palpable, both now and in any future encounters, a realisation that demanded tremendous self-control to keep from exacerbating the situation. He was the type to commit a spiteful act, like murdering Takeda to make a statement, or even worse, terminate my quest before I could claim the sword. But I refused to submit without at least a show of annoyance.

I stood up from the bed, my teeth gritted. "What do you want, Cain?"

Cain glanced around the room. "Lilith is a cunt, and I don’t like her. She's also highly overrated in bed.”

The last part struck me as unnecessary, but it seemed characteristic of Cain to make such a comment.

He placed a hand on his forehead and shook his head before continuing, "also, the whole 'mommy' routine she has going on is weird for me."

I glanced at Belle on the floor, then back at Cain. "That didn’t answer my question and you're playing a dangerous game right now."

“How so?” Cain's eyebrow raised. “I could just swipe your head off your shoulders right now before you get the sword and Lilith tries killing me. I know about your little deal to be her fuck toy.”

"That's not what I'm referring to. You’re tampering with the flow of time”—I crossed my arms—“What. Do. You. Want?”

Cain slumped into an old wooden chair near the bed. "You seem unbothered, which suggests you know when the future changes. The system would notify you, and that hasn't happened yet."

I paused, a flicker of recognition washing over me. “It feels like we’ve had this conversation before.”

Leaning forward, the perpetual smirk on Cain's lips vanished. "You’re deluded if you believe Lilith is truly on your side. Frankly, I doubt she'll let you keep the sword once you obtain it."

"Let's assume for a moment that I believe you—why wouldn't she let me keep it?" I asked.

He sighed, raising a finger for emphasis. "Lilith covets the throne more than she lets on. She doesn’t believe you’re capable of defeating Lucy, but she’s convinced she can, especially with the sword in her possession. While she recognises that the system favours you, she’s also acutely aware of its restraints on exacting retribution. Death may have some latitude for action but is too indifferent for Lilith to worry about. What if we could alter that equation? What if Death could help us kill the bitch—Maybe both the bitches? Easy sword no? I really do come up with the best plans."

I shook my head. "Death is constrained by the laws of balance; her hands are tied too. If Lilith is so intent on acquiring the sword, why bother helping me at all?"

Cain chuckled, waving his hand around. "She fears Chronos and believes the Guild could be instrumental in securing the weapon, which requires diplomatic finesse on your part—by finesse I mean you can walk inside the sanctuary. She's been on the hunt for him but hasn’t managed to find his body yet."

"You speak as if he’s dead."

I was careful not to reveal too much about Chronos. Given his vulnerable state, it was impossible to predict what Lilith might attempt.

He laughed again. "Oh, I’m well aware he isn’t dead. I doubt even the sword could kill him. What we do know is that travelling too far back in time could turn him to stone. Lilith’s plan is to capture him and seal him away. That poses a significant threat if you need to return within three decades. Lilith would certainly use that time either to coerce you to her side or resort to torture. Probably torture."

A wave of unease swept through me, reminiscent of the unsettling sensation I felt trying to leave Belle after her celestial descent. It was as if an invisible hand were pulling at me, nudging me towards some vital insight.

“I'm struggling to grasp what you're proposing beyond Death’s help, and why you would assist me at all.”

Cain leaned back in his chair, casually crossing his legs. "To be entirely honest, I'm somewhat insulted that Lilith would dismiss me so readily. I seek revenge. But there’s also Chronos, who concerns me even more," he confessed. "I prefer not to provoke him—just yet."

"Why are you all so fearful of him?" My curiosity deepened, and I probed further. "Why would an original like Lilith fear Chronos? It's understandable why you might be wary, but Chronos was once mortal; he shouldn't intimidate beings as formidable as the Originals."

"Chronos commands time itself," Cain explained plainly. "Though he may not match Lilith in sheer power, he possesses the ability to cast her into the Sands of Time, from which she might take centuries to return—if she can escape at all. The boundary between our world and the void is precarious. Chronos can not only traverse it to travel back in time or enter the void, but he can also banish others into its churning depths."

"Let’s hear the deal I suspect you’re about to offer."

Cain smoothed his pants and rose to his feet. "Simple. Lilith meets her end, releasing me from my servitude to her. We maintain the façade of enmity. I'll locate you in the future; ensure you've transformed into a demon and arrived at your designated location before you're hurled back in time. I have no intention of distorting the timeline, at least for the present moment."

The mechanics of time puzzled me. If I requested him to help me get stronger in the future, would it retroactively alter my level right now? Given this was supposedly the final reset, the rules of time seemed nebulous at best. It appeared I could still influence future events, but the specifics were unclear. Maybe I was unchangeable, though that seemed inconsistent—if that were true, why would the system need to alert me?

This was becoming tiresome.

Hold on… It's possible that everything happening now was predestined. The timeline might be shifting precisely as planned, notifying me to keep consistency—this was exactly why I had dreaded this encounter. The lines between my past and present selves were merging into a chaotic tangle.

Sigh.

"Before we go any further, I have conditions," I stated.

Cain nodded attentively. "Please, go on."

"Avoid any contact with me until we reach the exact date, time, and location where our paths first crossed. At that point, you follow my directions to the letter and replicate everything that transpired. My goal is to return to the future I left, with as few alterations as possible."

Cain tilted his head, his interest piqued. "You’re nursing a grudge against me—a grudge based on the assumption that I initiated these events. That puts me in a peculiar position."

"We'll both have to live with the uncertainty of whether I cast you as the bad guy," I replied. "Though, I doubt you’ll find it out of character."

"Ah, the complexities of time," Cain mused, a wry grin forming. "Are you sure you’re not the villain in this story?"