Almost...

Stefano's body was burning, a living furnace, shifting in chaotic flux—his gut shrank to rippling muscle, veins stark against taut skin, then sagged back to the familiar beer belly, only to tighten again, each cycle faster, stronger.

"W-What the hell is happening to me..."

He barely made it to his bedroom, slamming the door with enough power to crack the cheap plasterboard walls and fumbling the lock, every movement a battle against the thing he was becoming.

"Shitshitshit!!"

The tattoo pulsed, spreading tendrils under the middle-aged man's skin, and his reflection in the bedroom mirror showed a stranger—eyes glowing gold, the once pale skin darkening to a sick dark purple hue, a violet flame flickering in his chest like a heart reborn.

"I-Is everything OK in there? I thought you crashed against the door or something..."

Rebecca knocked, her voice shifting from worry to something softer, honeyed, dangerous. “Daaad, let me in. I-I can… help you.” The words... The redhead vixen's soft contralto dripped with a need that wasn’t hers, not fully, and Stefano’s blood ran cold—or hotter, he couldn’t tell anymore.

"I'm OK, sweetie! J-Just need to freshen up a bit, don't worry about your old man!"

He cracked the door, just an inch, and it was a fucking mistake.

Her emerald eyes blazed purple, pupils wide, his daughter's loose shirt—one of his old tees, swallowing her frame—hiked up to reveal bare skin, glistening, her tight pink pussy slick with his own daughter’s own lustful juices. Rebecca twirled the frilled underwear in her lithe fingers, lips parted in a dazed, hungry grin, her breath shallow.

The ring’s power surged, and Stefano felt it—her heat, her want, a fertile pulse that his new senses caught like a predator scenting prey. Three meters, that was his range, but it was enough to know she was ripe, her virgin womb calling to the thing, the monster, he was morphing into.

“Go to bed, Rebecca. Now.” His voice erupted, raw and hypnotic, laced with the ring’s unholy charm.

It boomed through the doorframe, and she swayed, moaning, “Yesh, d-daddy…” Her eyes dimmed, the purple fading as she stumbled back, the spell fraying but not gone. His weak hypnotic hold still lingered on Rebecca’s pliant mind.

Stefano’s chest heaved, his incubus senses ripe with her sweet scent, her warmth, even through the door. He tore open the window, the night’s chill biting his smoldering skin. His body smoked, black and cracking, violet flames licking from his core.

The neighbor’s pool glinted nine floors below, a 20-meter abyss of cold salvation.

He was no longer a man, a mere mortal—his skin burnt dark, the middle-aged man's beer belly cycled between steel and flesh, and the antediluvian relic’s hieroglyphs spread, the fallen divinity's glow stabilized the chaos but not enough.

"F-Fuck... Am I really gonna do this? Lol, reminds me of that time in Papua New Guinea..."

The leap was suicide, but staying here, with her, Rebecca… that would mean their doom. He couldn’t do this to his sweet princess, the little redhead vixen was his whole wold, her slender body, that damn fat ass jiggling within his claws’ grasp… FUCK! He was losing his grip.