Nothing... I understand the truth (Pink Trigger's Power >4999)

Ah... Baal Berith. I inspected her form once again. Those luscious hips. That proud, muscular black body. That haughty face. Those sweeping horns. The vicious, fork-like talons. That gleaming black hair. Those haughty yellow eyes, belaying just a hint of sexual desire. Those thick lips... the look your tongue makes when it darts across them. Those cute pointed fangs... Baal Berith! Mrs... Mrs. Baal Berith!

Because I loved her so much and knew her so well, there were certain facts I could no longer run from.

My fists shook as I faced Baal Berith again. For a certain extent of facing, that is. I couldn't look her in her eyes. I'd learned the truth of her existence and I found it too cruel to impart to her. For you, this may seem like it's been a quick journey, but for me... I'd been here thousands of times before. I'd come to know Baal Berith intimately, both through battle and through sexual conquest. She was like an old friend. No, not just that... I'd been made to treat her as an old friend! That Witch of Certainty had introduced the two of us and I've been trapped in this metaphorical swamp ever since, facing off against Baal Berith, coming to love her, coming to accept her as a part of this story. Ah... I'm like a fantasy junky. An erotica lover with a taste for fantasy...

But fantasy loses its power when faced with too much mystery. Beware, reader: if you overthink things, you may find yourself coming to conclusions just like mine.

One last time, I embraced Baal Berith. She seemed surprised... probably because of the tears streaming from my face. This is too cruel, Lambda...

"Huh? What do you mean? You loooove Mrs. Baal Berith, right? You especially love her on a big bed of buttery pancakes, don't you?"

Dammit, Lambdadelta! Just do it already! You have something you've been wanting to tell me, don't you?! Say it in the red truth!

....

No... No wait, don't! I need one more time! Embracing those beautiful lips one more time with my own hungry ones, I clutched my arms around Berith's back and plunged myself into my love one more time. Don't leave me, Berith! Please!

"Mister Player... what has gotten into you? I'm one of the earls of hell, an immortal demon..." that demon said to me, stroking my hair lovingly, the kind of sight that would drive anyone with an amazon fetish crazy. "Even if my master has a truth for us, it won't change that."

No! I'm sorry! I thought too hard! I'll go back to erotica! I'm not a mystery buff! I can embrace fantasy, any fantasy!

"You've been making love to my syrup bottle demon for a long time, Mister Player!"

Although still we were surrounded by cakes and pastries of impossible size, with skies of endless pink, I felt that fantasy had died. I stood there holding a cum-filled syrup bottle, which I'd emptied into just moments ago while promising I'd always be together with it. It was in the shape of a black lady wearing an apron. Mrs. Baalterworth was printed on the label. I felt dead inside. I was silent.

Lambda sat upon her bed, eating a macaroon while kicking her feet idly. "That was pretty fun!" she commented idly, as if taunting me to say something to her.

Why, I asked? Why did she humiliate me this way? Why give me love and then yank it away from me? I'd just spent years getting to know Baal Berith and coming to love her. For Lambda... all that time... I was just cumming into a syrup bottle! What could possibly be the point of all of this?!

"Ha! You assume there has to be some kind of point, other than for me to laugh at how you get your jollies," Lambda joked, rolling one hand and grinning a cheeky grin. "There is a point though! I'm the Witch of Certainty, and you know what suuuper pisses me off? People who expect miracles! You think if you keep growing that point total of yours, you can get stronger and stronger and do anything, right, even make everyone love you? Like you're going to go Super Saiyajerk God Super Saiyajerk? But the problem is you're trying to love a bunch of characters in a story you wrote. You're a tourist who wants to be a local, but all of that depends on where you're born, right? With your weak magic, all of these characters are no more real than that syrup bottle demon you just fucked and loved!"

Ah... Lambdadelta... I can feel myself beginning to love you again. This unimaginable cruelty... You had me make love to a syrup bottle for countless years before telling me what I was doing. You gave that syrup bottle hope to become a real person who lives and loves, then you killed it. Then you turned it all into a lecture for me.

If you love witches, Reader, then you love this sort of character. What does this say about us? About our madness?

"Yuck... I can hear you doing your monologue again. I'm just going to go for the pancakes!"

Ah... It's a fitting end after all. These pancakes have the smell and taste of Baal Berith. They even have a bit of her man-crushing power.

So long, my ex, Berith. It's best that we don't meet again.