He does his best to be the good guy.

It was difficult to think, with her virgin slit parted, for the first time, by an unprotected cock... one with a quest that was aching, in no uncertain terms, to put a new generation of Gorbachevs in her. It would be easy: she no longer had the defense of her suit, to protect against any of his spells. More than that, adding her to his growing collection of women followed the path he was on... and he now had the Gamer's brand. Even if he kept his senses enough to not try that, he could apparently marry women on something like a whim... a whim she'd probably reciprocate. Even if he did none of those things, she was willing to give herself up, and through that let him cash in a quest that seemed so impressive before, but now merely has the mystery of its completion bonus... but most of all, he was hard, she was hot, and John Newman was finding no good reason to not finish what they started... save the guilt about her desperation, her altered state of mind, her weakness, and his taking advantage of it all. He couldn't do nothing; she was growing bolder as she grinded, and he was sure he'd decide for him in the fog of her rising arousal. John pulled himself up on his elbows, freeing his cock out from under her enticing thighs and lining it up over her belly button. Her hands pressed it to her stomach, and he felt her sigh her frustration as she tried to rub her clit against the base of his cock. "Tricia... we j-just went... through Hell. If you still want to do this once you're rested, and... under control-"

"I am under control," she whined. "The only uncertain variable left is why don't you want me?" The way she pouted ill-matched her fidgeting: her right hand spiraled her handjob on his dickhead while the other pumped his shaft. He had trouble breathing with the expert, vice grip she had on his stick.

"Are you..." John grunted, and swallowed hard as he tried to focus. "... sure you're a virgin? Because you're... kinda... r-really... REALLY good at that..."

"I've studied and incorporated, by quantum-tutoring, five thousand hours of pornography into my annual esoteric trainings." They shared a moment of John's stunned, heavy-breathed silence. A small fleet of drones brought his effects back out as this went on, piling them against the wall on the floor and neatly folded. None of them gave a second glance at the awkward couple, or at their master as she reached for John's fingers and dragged them up to her petite handfuls, making his fight to not jump her ever more difficult. He sat up without the support of his arms, and found her breathing as hard as he was, their mouths just inches from each, his dick straining and bobbing as if to try and regain Tricia's attention. Her chest was burning up, like the rest of her; she was feverish for him, and she looked down as she panted, her tiny, seductive tongue resting just out of her mouth like a dog in heat. "John...!" she managed, suddenly too embarrassed to meet his eyes, as if only now she became aware of what she was doing... what she was all but forcing him to do.

"Tricia... I... I mean, I really want to-"

"What... are these?"

John shook his head. "Huh?" He followed her gaze... to his wedding band-coated fingers. Oh... well, it's not like she would even know-

"Impossible, but... no, they are! John, who did this to you?" She stopped her grinding for the moment... which alarmed John more than her questions.

"T... Well, I... I guess I kind of it did myself, just-"

"You... you willfully married Abyssal manifestations?!"

Oh... shit. John stared up at her, dumbfounded by how exact her knowledge had been. I thought this was just a Gamer thing?! "I-I mean... well, one was only half-Abyss?"

"Half... did... did you... no, but such hybrids are exceedingly rare, and I never did see how you..." she paused her stuttering, and inhaled sharply. "John, you didn't actually marry the Hellbat that tried to kill me, right?"

"Uh..."

"RIGHT?"

Well, when you put it THAT way... "How... I mean, is this a thing?"

"It's a contract, John! You..." She eyed his fingers again, as if in disbelief. "You married three... before I... oh my God, none of these are even Vanessa!"

"Why is that important-" She cut his sentence off with her vicious glare. Don't dig yourself deeper, John. "I-I mean, how do you even know any of this?!"

"Wedding bands are a universal medium," she huffed angrily, "a symbol that has taken on serious properties. Even if modern examples are contemporary in the grand scheme of humanity, the circle as a band of infinite unity is- no. No, no... no!" She sniffled, and he realized now that she was on the verge of tears, even with this absurd position. "It isn't fair... it's not... it's just not..." Her hands shook against his, her body convulsed as she started to cry in earnest.

"Tricia, I promise, whatever you think-"

"Four women?!" she finally blurted, sobbing her words. "You came into my home, laid in my bed, made love to me only two days ago-"

"F-For science-!"

"Shut up!" John did. "You... did you sleep with them all? Did you sleep with all four?"

John narrowed his eyes, and awkwardly strained towards some kind of answer that didn't dig him into a deeper hole.

"... All of them? More than four?"

John shook his head, to de-escalate... and her expression froze. Her relationship score fluctuated until it stopped displaying... and her enhanced mana bar appeared once more.

Wait, the last time that happened-

A sliver of black appeared on her forehead, and John braced for the worst. "Tricia, please-"

"You can't do this to me... I was your first, and... and you were my first...! "

Status Effect: Eye of Gorbachev (Arash)

"You were mine first!"

The Eye opened as she declared all that she held in her heart in that single, greedy demand... and the eye opened as a sea of green and a brilliant emerald iris that seemed faceted as John stared into it. A voice like Tricia's filled his skin, crept into his very blood-

You love Tricia Gorbachev. You would never love anyone else. You will only ever love her. You love Tricia Gorbachev. You would never love anyone else. You will only ever love her. You love Tricia Gorbachev. You would never love anyone else. You will only ever love her. You love Tricia Gorbachev. You would never love anyone else. You will only ever love her. You love Tricia Gorbachev. You would never love anyone else. You will only ever love her. You love Tricia Gorbachev. You would never love anyone else. You will only ever love her. You love Tricia Gorbachev. You would never love anyone else. You will only ever love her. You love Tricia Gorbachev. You would never love anyone else. You will only ever love her. You love Tricia Gorbachev. You would never love anyone else. You will only ever love her. You love Tricia Gorbachev. You would never love anyone else. You will only ever love her. You love Tricia Gorbachev. You would never love anyone else. You will only ever love her. You love Tricia Gorbachev. You would never love anyone else. You will only ever love her. You love Tricia Gorbachev. You would never love anyone else. You will only ever love her. You love Tricia Gorbachev. You would never love anyone else. You will only ever love her.

Paragon immunity (mind control) failed... Paragon immunity (mind control) failed... Paragon immunity (mind control) re-established.

Eye of Gorbachev (Arash) effect resisted!

The system message repeated a dozen times by the time John snapped out of his daze. From one moment to the next, things had moved... and he had clearly lost some precious seconds of conscious self-control. _B-But I'm immune to... _John struggled to even maintain the coherent thought. Despite John's alleged immunity to mind control, he had felt the effect, probing his life and spirit, trying to tease some kind of control over him, to persuade him to not ignore this attempt to his very mind.

He snapped out of the trance of pop-ups and the odd, nearly overwhelming effect of the Eye... just as Tricia began to sit upright on her knees, trying to guide the head of his manhood to her sex, a look of satisfaction painted below that glimmering hunter green orb on her forehead.

John blinked out from under her, and landed on his pile of clothes. He thought of anything there that could help him among his new tools, but he didn't bother making anything to resist her domination, thinking his paragon defenses were enough for such things. Cursing, he vanished it all, ready to make a quick escape if necessary.

Tricia stumbled on the bed, bereft of the man underneath her, and looked back at him with all three eyes. "J-John! My... my Eye! This feeling, it's-" Her joyous smile seemed terrifying, now.

"You tried to... what did you just do?!" John felt the voice creeping back into his head the moment she turned to regard him-

Come back to bed. Tricia is a safe, good girl. You'll both feel better if you do as she says. Come back to bed. Tricia is a safe, good girl. You'll both feel better if you do as she says. Come back to bed. Tricia is a safe, good girl. You'll both feel better if you do as she says. Come back to bed. Tricia is a safe, good girl. You'll both feel better if you do as she says. Come back to bed. Tricia is a safe, good girl. You'll both feel better if you do as she says. Come back to bed. Tricia is a safe, good girl. You'll both feel better if you do as she says. Come back to bed. Tricia is a safe, good girl. You'll both feel better if you do as she says. Come back to bed. Tricia is a safe, good girl. You'll both feel better if you do as she says. Come back to bed. Tricia is a safe, good girl. You'll both feel better if you do as she says. Come back to bed. Tricia is a safe, good girl. You'll both feel better if you do as she says. Come back to bed. Tricia is a safe, good girl. You'll both feel better if you do as she says. Come back to bed. Tricia is a safe, good girl. You'll both feel better if you do as she says. Come back to bed. Tricia is a safe, good girl. You'll both feel better if you do as she says. Come back to bed. Tricia is a safe, good girl. You'll both feel better if you do as she says. Come back to bed. Tricia is a safe, good girl. You'll both feel better if you do as she says. Come back to bed. Tricia is a safe, good girl. You'll both feel better if you do as she says. Come back to-

Again the messages of his resistance, later than last time, poured before his eyes. She had opened a new Eye! This was a momentous occasion! She wasn't stunted in her growth, she could still find control and balance of her emotions, she could rise above her status as a freak even among those of her many-eyed bloodlines...

He stared at her, unable to hide his fear; Tricia's smile melted as his fear twisted into anger. "Stop it, Tricia! Get... out of my head!"

"J-John, I promise I-" He could barely hear her now over the chorus of commands attempting to shape him, each time running into his paragon immunities but each time seeming more convincing.

Fuck, I... I have to get away from her! John didn't bother with the extra steps this time; he jumped away just as Tricia rushed, naked and bewildered from the bed, towards him.

"N-No, John, please-!" She stopped in her tracks as she realized he left her home completely this time. She kneeled on the ground over where he had stood, looking around, hoping he had just tried to make more distance... and found his presence gone. Sloppy, ugly tears started to stream down her face, and her head dipped as she looked, through blurred vision, at the ground where he had once been. What did this Eye try to do to him? Why did her power push him away, possibly forever?

John didn't leave her, she decided. Once again, her Eye took away the people in her life.

Her back shook violently as she bawled. "Not again... please... not this..." Her pale form curled into a ball on the floor. She had to stop it... the pain welling inside her again, threatening.... what, this time? What would this sorrow bring? She couldn't risk finding out what catastrophe a third Eye might cause. "V-Voice command... hick... install suit... now, emergency level priority...!" The new Eye slowly closed, and drones brought the half-refilled crystal, now repaired, with its attached choker. They obeyed her whims and hovered below her chin before encircling her throat once again, leaving the charm under her hair before it locked in as her she shouted incoherently in sobs. She cried out one last time, screaming her regret as she tried to look for a phone that was obliterated in the combat... until the black overtook her flesh once again. It seeped into her pores, became her skin anew, and enveloped her mind as readily as it enveloped her skin. The illusion of the healthy-skinned, normal Tricia Gorbachev faded back into view, and already nanites began to work to repair her hair where it had been damaged.

DEFENSE MATRIX... ONLINE. LIMITERS... ONLINE. CONFIRMING... ENEMIES SILENCED. LIMITERS RETURNING IN FULL. 39% FORTIFICATION MATERIAL REMAINING; RECOMMEND REFILL.

Tricia looked down at the floor where John had been standing, and where her tears made small, chaotic pools. She didn't forget the reason for her despair... but it was gone all the same, replaced by obvious reasoning: her new Eye did something awful, such as seemed appropriate for this bloodline curse. She would have to avoid using this one, as well, except in emergencies. She would not bother to report these findings to her caretaker; she was clearly too emotionally unstable to reliably overcome her flaws even with this discovery, and the safety protocols she herself designed obviously still applied, certainly over some vague hope of rehabilitation of her heritage.

Still, the Gorbachev family proper would want to know about the attempt. She logged these facts into her Network, and thanked the drones for their contributions. She would draft an apology to John at some point; for now, she had combat data to review... and she had to amend her research requests for Newman to include the Abyssal wedding bands. With a wave of her hand, the interfaces came alive once more, drafting her parent's apology letter for her sudden absence from school and pulling up the lessons, however elementary for her, that her teachers had planned for the rest of the day.

The crisis was over. As she worked she casually, but efficiently, wiped the tears from her cheeks.

*

"Damn it!" John cursed under his breath.

He was standing, bare-assed and unarmed, inside the backyard of the faux house over Tricia's home. Not wanting to stay, he more carefully made his tunnel into the men's restroom of the diner. Next to him he could see the bent, shaking legs of some elderly gentleman trying to finish his restroom visit, and the frustrated haste with which he pulled clothes out of his inventory belied his regret. That was pretty intense... but... it's not my fault, right? I mean, her circumstance sort of is, but... but she went crazy, like she said she would... and I just wanted to see her home safely. I got her in trouble, that's totally my fault, but this whole thing, just because I slept around- I mean, we're not even dating! Besides, his thoughts continued, as if to convince none save himself, Fairy was kind of an accident, Summers wanted it bad, I needed to capture Alysha, and Tita, and that was the better, less painful way for both of them... and then Vanessa... had it coming... right? And we'd all be dead if I didn't take Tara... Damn it, and I saved Tricia! Even if she was angry about those other times, I mean, I can't believe she tried to mind control me-

The hypocrisy was almost palpable, and John grimaced at realizing it. Now with his school uniform back on, he put on his two rings and belt, and left all the rest of his new magical armoury in his inventory. With his cleric spirit as efficient as it was, his uniform had already been cleaned up following the fight with Talon... but none of this was done with thought, as John found himself paralyzed in his mind: he could not excuse all he was doing, or had done, to regular people with his power... and maybe even with these moral ambiguities Tricia had called "manifestations" of the Abyss. His immediate revulsion for someone trying to dominate him, for their use or love or even as some kind of accident of their own power, held a clear mirror to the last four days of his life. Hell, at least hers was... probably... accidental. I mean, she seemed happy, but if she really didn't know what she was... damn it, she obviously didn't mean to. Maybe I should go back... He shivered as he recalled that voice, of dominance and control, and cursed again. Lunch back at the Academy was almost over, and he had a schedule today... including what seemed impossible now: going to Vanessa's. John shook his head in disbelief at all that had transpired, at the school laid to dust in another version of the world, of the and captures and the madness of it all... followed, shortly, by Psychology, and later a date with a girlfriend he didn't want, a woman whose attempts to control him were hardly as innocent.

John contemplated this unsteady balance while transposing with Fairy, and dismissing her once he was on the school roof.