Let her rest

Alice stopped herself.

Mid-step.

The heat from the portal washed over her, tugging at her instincts, at that raw pull that wanted action, possession, intensity. Her muscles tensed, tail curling tight behind her like it was trying to push her forward.

She shook her head.

Hard.

“No,” she said, out loud this time.

The portal crackled, waiting.

Alice took a breath that burned all the way down to her lungs and stepped back instead.

The fire folded in on itself, shrinking, then collapsing into nothing with a soft, disappointed hiss.

Silence followed.

For a heartbeat, Alice just stood there, fists clenched, jaw tight, every nerve in her body screaming at her that she had just denied herself something she wanted.

Something she wanted badly.

Her father looked at her then.

And smiled.

Just a quiet, unmistakable look of approval, like he had been holding his breath and finally let it out.

Alice didn’t look at him right away.

She swallowed, throat tight.

“…That was the right call,” she said, more to convince herself than anyone else.

It hurt more than it should have. Everything felt louder now. Desire sharper. Loss heavier. Walking away felt like tearing out a hook that had already sunk deep.

But she knew the truth.

This wasn’t love.

It was heat. lust. Want. Curiosity mixed with danger and the thrill of power. It was her new blood roaring for something intense and immediate, not something careful or kind.

And Yamaba deserved better than that.

Whatever Yamaba chose next, going back to Leo, walking away from adventuring, carving out something new entirely, it wasn’t Alice’s choice to make. Dragging her into a party just because Alice wanted something hot and messy would have been selfish.

Alice pressed a hand to her chest, to the parasite armor, feeling its steady, patient presence.

“This is me choosing not to be a fucking monster,” she muttered.

The parasite didn’t argue. It stayed quiet.

Her father finally spoke, voice calm.

“You resist your desires,” he said. “Not many people have the strength to do that.”

Alice huffed a bitter laugh. “Don’t congratulate me too hard. This sucks.”

“I know,” he replied simply.

She straightened, rolling her shoulders, forcing herself back into motion. The ache didn’t vanish, but it dulled, settling into something she could carry.

Lust wasn’t love.

Knowing that didn’t make it easier.

Alice woke slowly.

Not the sharp, half-panicked snap she was used to, but a gradual, sinking return to awareness, like surfacing through warm water.

The bed was enormous.

Too enormous.

She lay there for a moment, staring up at the canopy above her, sheer curtains drifting gently as if the room itself breathed. Sunlight filtered through tall palace windows, turning the fabric gold and soft and unreal. The sheets were impossibly smooth, cool where they touched her skin, heavy in a way that felt expensive rather than comforting.

California king didn’t even begin to cover it. This thing was practically a continent.

Alice flexed her fingers against the silk.

“…Fuck,” she muttered.

She rolled onto her side. Didn’t reach the edge.

Rolled again.

Still didn’t.

The mattress swallowed her, perfect support, no sag, no springs threatening to stab her spine. Anyone else would have killed for this.

Alice hated it.

She sat up, horns brushing the bed rest before she remembered they were there, tail twitching irritably behind her. The parasite armor was dormant, a quiet warmth under her skin, not intruding, just there.

Too quiet.

Her chest felt tight in a way that had nothing to do with danger.

She hugged the pillow to herself.

It was soft. Ridiculously soft. The kind of soft that had never known a wash cycle gone wrong or a tear stitched badly by hand. It smelled faintly of clean linen and incense, not dust and detergent and whatever old apartment air had been baked into her things.

She missed her twin bed.

The one that creaked if she shifted wrong. The one shoved against the wall with barely enough room to roll out of without banging her knee. She missed her blanket most of all.

Heavy.

Worn.

Soft in that way only years could make something soft.

It had holes in it. A few burns from where she’d gotten careless with a candle.

She’d had it since she was five.

She swallowed, throat tightening.

“This is stupid,” she whispered to the empty room.

But the ache didn’t care.

This place was beautiful. Safe. Powerful. Everything she’d been told she should want.

And right now all she wanted was something familiar enough to wrap around herself and disappear into.

Alice swung her legs over the side of the bed. Her feet touched heated floorboards.

She sat there for a long moment, shoulders slumped, tail curled loosely around her ankle like it was trying to anchor her.

The blood in her veins still hummed, restless, emotional, but beneath it was something quieter.

She pressed her palms into her thighs and breathed out slowly.

“…Get it together,” she told herself.

She stood up.

The room didn’t feel any smaller.

Alice wished she could trade all of it just for one more morning wrapped in a ratty old blanket, pretending the world outside could wait a little longer.

Alice padded across the room and stopped in front of the mirror.

The reflection took a second to click.

She’d thrown on an old T-shirt without thinking, something she’d dug out of a box of her things because it was familiar and soft. It used to hang off her like a dress.

Now it didn’t.

The fabric clung to her chest, stretching in a way that made her blink and lean closer. She turned slightly, watching how the shirt pulled across her torso, how her waist dipped before flaring into hips that hadn’t really been there before.

“…Huh,” she murmured.

She’d grown.

Not dramatically taller, but enough that the world felt a little lower. Her shoulders were broader, arms carrying faint lines of muscle that caught the light when she moved. Not bulky. Not carved. Just… solid.

Her chest rose and fell under the shirt, fuller than she was used to. She frowned, then tugged the hem down and sighed.

“A to a fucking D,” she muttered.

Her stomach was flat, but not sharp. No dramatic six-pack, no exaggerated lines. Just strength under skin, like an athlete who didn’t obsess over mirrors. It felt honest. Real.

She was getting used to her skin, though

That was going to take time.

Neon red, vivid even in the palace’s soft light, traced with faint, darker undertones that followed muscle and movement. It was impossible to miss. Impossible to ignore.

Alice tilted her head, watching her horns frame her face. They looked… right. So did the tail swaying behind her, heavy and balanced, like it belonged there.

She exhaled slowly.

“…I don’t hate this,” she admitted.

That surprised her.

She’d always been self-conscious about being small. About feeling breakable.

This body didn’t feel like that.

It felt grounded.

She shifted her weight, and opened her panties to take a peak, and snorted softly.

“And yeah,” she added under her breath, a crooked grin tugging at her mouth, “the extra couple inches aren’t exactly hurting my confidence either, It's even got one of those candy bar veins now.”

“Okay,” she said. “We can work with this.”

Then the mirror blinked.

No.

Someone in the mirror blinked.

Alice’s heart slammed into her ribs.

She spun, nearly jumping out of her skin. “HOLY SHIT !”

Nox stood a few steps behind her, perfectly still, ears flicked back slightly, expression calm to the point of infuriating. Her hooves made no sound against the floor. Her shadow barely shifted.

Alice clutched her chest. “HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN THERE?”

Nox tilted her head, considering. “Long enough to confirm the room was secure. Short enough to avoid impropriety.”

Alice stared at her. “That is not an answer.”

“Approximately forty-seven seconds,” Nox clarified helpfully.

Alice groaned and dragged a hand down her face. “You’re a fucking ninja centaur. Of course you are.”

Nox’s lips twitched. Just barely. “You did not appear distressed until now.”

“I was fucking looking at my dick in the mirror,” Alice snapped. “Bitch that counts.”

Nox inclined her head in something like apology. “Noted. In the future, I will announce myself.”

“You fucking better,” Alice muttered, then paused. “…Wait. You didn’t see anything weird, did you?”

Nox’s gaze flicked away with deliberate politeness. “I saw my lady assessing her physical readiness. Nothing more.”

Nox did not look back at her right away.

She let the silence stretch.

It was deliberate.

“You are… flushed,” Nox observed calmly, stepping closer at last. “And hard.”

Alice bristled on instinct. “Fuck off. You scared the shit out of me.”

Nox hummed, amused, and reached past her to close the wardrobe doors with a soft click.

“And yet,” Nox said, voice low, “you did not ask me to leave.”

Alice opened her mouth.

Closed it again.

“…I told you to fuck off,” she snapped.

Nox smiled satisfied.

“Come here,” she said.

Alice stiffened. “I can dress myself.”

“I know,” Nox replied, already reaching for the folded clothes laid out on the bench. “But you will let me.”

Alice scowled, cheeks burning, and muttered, “Bossy fucking horse bitch.”

Nox’s ears flicked back in pleased acknowledgment. “Undress.”

Alice flipped her off reflexively but did it anyway, yanking the shirt over her head with more **** than necessary. The air felt colder against her skin.

She crossed her arms.

Nox stepped in close.

Too close.

She adjusted Alice’s stance with a gentle pressure at the hips, thumbs firm, possessive. “Stand straight,” she murmured. “Shoulders back.”

“I am standing straight.”

“You are sulking,” Nox corrected.

Alice growled under her breath but complied.

The first layer went on smoothly, fine fabric sliding over her skin. Nox’s hands were practiced, efficient, She tugged seams into place, smoothed wrinkles with slow strokes that made Alice’s breath hitch despite herself.

“Don’t,” Alice warned weakly.

Nox leaned in, voice near her ear. “Don’t what.”

“…Do that.”

“That,” Nox said, adjusting the fit at Alice’s waist, “is my job.”

The outfit took shape piece by piece: tailored trousers that fit snug over her hips, a high-collared shirt fastened with careful fingers, a fitted suit jacket that made her feel too visible and not visible enough all at once. Nox fastened the buttons slowly, eyes focused, reverent in a way that made Alice’s chest tighten.

Then came the cape.

A short shoulder cape, dark and elegant, clasped at one side. Nox draped it over Alice’s shoulders, the weight settling there.

Alice swallowed.

“I look like a fucking noble,” she muttered.

“You look like mine,” Nox replied simply.

That did it.

Alice’s ears burned. “You don’t get to say shit like that.”

Nox met her gaze in the mirror, calm and unwavering. “I do.”

Alice looked away first, jaw tight. “You’re not even supposed to I mean I’m not ”

“I know,” Nox said softly, adjusting the cape one last time. “Lets not label anything.”

Her hands fell away.

The absence felt loud.

Alice exhaled, frustrated. “You’re doing this on purpose.”

“Yes,” Nox agreed without shame.

She stepped back, appraising Alice with an intensity that made her shift her weight. “Your father has requested your presence for breakfast. With the family.”

Alice froze.

“…Fuck,” she said quietly.

Nox tilted her head. “Your emotional.”

“No shit,” Alice snapped, then dragged a hand through her hair. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel about that.”

“You are not required to know,” Nox said. “Only to go.”

Alice glanced at the mirror again. Red skin. Horns. Rich clothes.

“…You staying close?” she asked, trying not to sound like it mattered.

Nox’s tail flicked once, slow and deliberate. “Always.”

Alice huffed. “Great. Fucking fantastic.”

But she didn’t pull away when Nox hugged her from behind and rested her chin on Alice's shoulder.

And that said enough.

Alice jerked forward like she’d been burned.

“Fuck ” She twisted out of Nox’s arms, heart slamming, tail snapping once behind her like a whip. “Shit. Fuck. Don’t don’t do that.”

Her face was on fire.

She paced two steps, then another, hands raking through her hair as if that might shake the feeling loose. “I fuck. I want that. Okay? I’m not blind. Or stupid. Or dead.”

She stopped, turned halfway back, jaw tight.

“But I’m not doing that thing again,” she said, voice rough. “I’m not rushing into something just because it’s intense or hot or because my blood’s screaming for it. I already fucked that up once.”

Nox didn’t move closer.

Didn’t retreat either.

She simply inclined her head, calm as ever. “Then we will not rush.”

Alice huffed a bitter laugh. “You say that like it’s easy.”

“It is not,” Nox replied evenly. “But it is possible.”

Alice held her gaze for a second longer, searching anything that felt like a trap.

There was none.

That somehow made it worse.

“Gods damn it,” Alice muttered, turning away again.

She grabbed the door handle and yanked it open. “Breakfast. With my whole fucked-up rich rich family. Let’s go before I change my mind and set something on fire.”

She stormed into the hall, boots striking marble hard enough to echo, swearing under her breath the entire way. “Fuckin’ palace. Fuckin’ feelings. Fuckin’ horns keep catching on shit ”

Nox followed at a measured pace, hooves silent, presence steady at Alice’s back like a shadow that chose to stay.

Ever the dutiful maid.

Ever patient.

And Alice, heart still racing, didn’t once tell her to stop following.

Alice slowed at the threshold.

The dining room opened up in front of her like a cathedral that had decided God wasn’t ambitious enough.

Vaulted ceilings arched high overhead, ribs of dark stone and gold filigree curving together in elegant menace. Stained glass windows towered along the walls, each panel catching the morning sun and shattering it into reds, ambers, and blues that spilled across the long table like spilled wine. The light made everything look holy and dangerous at the same time.

Alice hated it.

She lingered just outside the doorway, one hand resting against the cool stone, tail curling tight behind her like it was trying to keep her grounded.

They were all there.

Quin sat at the head of the table, posture immaculate, crimson hair perfectly combed back, one hand already hovering near a cigarette he hadn’t lit yet out of some performative respect for “family time.” His suit was flawless. Of course it was. He looked like a man who’d never woken up unsure of who he was.

To his right lounged Seraphina.

Regal. Bloody. Beautiful in a way that made your skin crawl if you stared too long. She sat with lazy confidence, fingers curled around a goblet, eyes half-lidded like this was all a stage and she was bored of the script already. Even seated, she radiated authority. Predatory. Poised. Waiting for weakness.

Across from her sat Reed and Rose.

Matching black suits. Matching posture. Matching smiles.

They leaned toward each other, knees nearly touching, whispering something that made both of them snicker in perfect sync. When they noticed Alice hovering, their heads turned at the exact same time, eyes lighting up like they’d just been handed a secret.

There it was.

The whole fucking family.

Alice inhaled slowly through her nose.

Her oni blood stirred, heat flaring in her chest, irritation bubbling up fast and sharp. Her instinct was to bare her teeth, to stomp in and make noise and let them all **** on it.

Instead, she **** herself to breathe.

Don’t be noticed. Just walk in. Sit down. Don’t bite anyone.

She straightened her shoulders, adjusted the short cape like it mattered, and stepped into the room.

The sound echoed louder than she wanted.

So much for subtle.

Seraphina’s eyes flicked up immediately, crimson gaze dragging slowly over Alice’s horns, her tail, the way the noble clothes hugged her new frame.

A smile curved her lips.

“Oh,” she purred. “The sparrow learned how to molt.”

Alice’s jaw tightened. Five seconds in. New record.

Reed and Rose rose from their chairs at the same time.

“There she is,” they chimed, voices overlapping perfectly.

“Big sister.”

“Redder sister.”

“Pointier sister.”

They both grinned at her like she was the best thing in the room.

Alice couldn’t help it. Her mouth twitched. “Morning, you little fucking gremlins.”

They beamed, clearly delighted.

Quin turned last.

He studied her in silence, gaze sharp and unreadable, taking in every detail the horns, the posture, the way she carried herself now. There was calculation there. Pride. Concern. A dozen emotions he’d never say out loud.

“Sit,” he said simply.

Alice did.

The chair was too comfortable. Of course it was.

She folded her hands on the table, tail flicking once behind her before she **** it still. The parasite armor remained dormant, a quiet pressure under her skin, alert but respectful.

Breakfast was laid out in absurd abundance fresh fruit, steaming platters, delicate pastries, meats that probably had names and tragic backstories. Alice stared at it, stomach growling despite her nerves.

Seraphina took a sip from her goblet, eyes never leaving Alice. “So,” she said lightly. “Oni. Parasite armor. World boss participation. You do love making messes, little sparrow.”

Alice looked right at her. “Funny coming from someone who exploded half the sky yesterday.”

Seraphina laughed softly. “Touché.”

Quin finally spoke again. “Eat,” he said. “You’ll need the energy.”

Alice grabbed a piece of bread and tore into it with more **** than strictly necessary.

As she chewed, she glanced around the table once more.

This place was dangerous. Beautiful. Cruel.

And it was her family.

She didn’t know whether to feel proud, angry, or terrified.

Probably all three.

Alice tried to focus on the plate in front of her.

It was… fine. The spread was obscene. Crystal dishes, perfectly seared cuts of meat, sauces that probably had their own pedigree. The kind of breakfast that made servants nervous and gods indulgent.

She chewed.

Paused.

“…Yeah, okay,” she muttered. “Bread tastes like fucking cardboard now.”

Nox, standing just behind her chair, said nothing.

She cut into the meat instead.

That part was better. Way better. Juices burst across her tongue, rich and satisfying in a way that made something deep in her chest hum.

“Of course,” Alice said under her breath. “Turn into a demon and suddenly I’m fucking keto.”

Reed snickered. Rose covered it with a cough. Quin shot them a warning look.

Alice opened her mouth to make some half-assed small talk, something neutral, something safe-

Pain.

White-hot.

Precise.

Something slid into her back just to the right of her spine.

Not deep enough to kill.

Deep enough to hurt.

A fucking lot.

Alice gasped, **** mid-breath as the blade dragged downward in a slow, almost affectionate line. It didn’t cut organs. It traced her spine like someone dragging a fingernail along her nerves.

She slammed a hand on the table, teeth bared. “FUCK-”

A voice leaned in close to her ear.

Warm. Amused. Lazy.

“Relax, bastard. It’s just hello.”

The blade slid free with a wet sound.

Alice hissed, muscles locking, every instinct screaming to turn, to rip, to kill.

She didn’t.

Barely.

Behind her stood a dark elf woman draped in absurdly expensive streetwear. Designer jacket hanging open,gold chains catching the light. Headphones rested around her neck, one earcup tilted just enough that Alice could hear the faint, pulse of lyrical rap leaking out.

Red eyes. Sharp smile.

Niks.

Quin’s wife.

The S-rank assassin.

Mother of everyone at this table except Alice.

She leaned on the back of Alice’s chair like they were old friends, posture loose, blade already gone as if it had never existed.

“Look at you,” Niks continued casually. “All red and pointy. Cute upgrade. Still sitting at my table though.”

Alice’s hands shook. Her parasite surged, furious, plates itching to rise.

Quin’s chair scraped back an inch.

“Niks,” he said sharply. “Enough.”

She glanced at him over her shoulder. “What? I said hi.”

“You stabbed her.”

Niks shrugged. “She’s alive.”

Reed and Rose were halfway out of their seats.

Seraphina’s hand closed around both their shoulders.

Hard.

They froze, teeth clenched, fury vibrating off them in waves.

“Sit,” Seraphina murmured pleasantly. “This does not concern you.”

Alice finally turned her head, slow and dangerous.

Her voice came out low. Shaking. Mean.

“Touch me like that again,” she growled, “and I will tear your fucking throat out with my teeth.”

Niks grinned wider.

“There it is,” she said. “That’s the family temper.”

She leaned down, close enough that Alice could smell expensive perfume.

“Careful though, bastard. You’re still a guest.”

Alice met her eyes, pupils blown, blood roaring in her ears.

“For now,” she spat.

Niks straightened, laughter soft and musical as she turned away, music swelling slightly as she slipped her headphones back on.

Alice sat there, breathing hard, pain fading as the parasite knitted her back together.

Quin looked furious.

The twins looked murderous.

Seraphina looked amused.

And Alice?

Alice stabbed her fork into the meat hard enough to crack the plate.

“…I fucking hate this family,” she muttered.

Nox’s hand settled on her shoulder.

Firm.

Grounding.

“You are holding yourself together,” Nox said quietly. “That matters.”

Alice swallowed, nodded once, and took another bite.

Meat still tasted incredible.

Niks didn’t leave.

She dragged a chair out with her heel and dropped into it sideways, slouching like the whole palace was her couch. One boot came up, then the other, heels resting right on the polished table between platters of food and crystal goblets.

No one said a word.

She speared a chunk of meat with her knife, didn’t bother with a plate, and lifted it to her mouth straight off the blade. Chewed lazily. Swallowed.

“Mm,” she hummed. “Still good. Compliments to the cooks. Or whatever poor bastard didn’t sleep.”

Quin’s jaw tightened. He sat back down slowly, fingers steepled, smoke curling from the cigarette he jest lit. His irritation was controlled, contained, the kind that promised consequences later.

Seraphina resumed eating as if nothing had happened, posture perfect, eyes flicking occasionally toward Alice with something sharp and amused lurking behind them.

Reed and Rose moved in sync again, forks lifting, bites taken, but their attention never left Niks. Every muscle in their bodies was coiled tight, like twin blades waiting to be drawn.

Alice picked her fork back up.

Her hands were steady now.

She cut into the meat again, slower this time, jaw tight. She refused to look at Niks. Refused to give her the satisfaction. The oni blood still simmered, heat crawling under her skin, but she **** it down with every breath.

Don’t explode. Don’t give her that.

Across the table, Niks watched her anyway.

Alice could feel it.

“Damn,” Niks said suddenly, nodding toward Alice’s plate. “Nice drip crazy fucking parasite in your brain. Proud of you, bastard.”

Alice didn’t look up. “Fuck off.”

Niks laughed, sharp and pleased.

For a few moments, the only sounds were cutlery, chewing, the faint hiss of Quin’s cigarette, and the distant echo of the palace waking up around them.

Normal.

As normal as this family ever got.

The tension didn’t fade.

It just settled in, heavy and watchful, like everyone at the table knew this meal was a ceasefire, not peace.

Alice swallowed another bite of meat and stared at her plate.

Seraphina was the one who broke the silence.

She clicked her tongue, slow and deliberate, eyes lifting from her plate with clear irritation. “This is tedious,” she said coolly. “The least we can manage is basic conversation.”

Her gaze slid sideways, lingering just long enough on Alice to sting. Whether it was for Alice’s sake or just because Seraphina hated being bored was impossible to tell.

She smiled anyway.

A thin, sharp thing.

“I was going to inform everyone,” Seraphina continued, cutting her food with surgical precision, “that reconstruction of the lower wards will begin immediately. The casualties were… acceptable. Fewer than projected.”

Reed and Rose stiffened in unison.

Quin exhaled smoke through his nose. “You sound disappointed.”

Seraphina’s smile widened a fraction. “Only mildly.”

Niks perked up immediately.

“Oh shit, that’s my girl,” she said brightly, leaning forward in her chair, boots still on the table. She reached out and ruffled Seraphina’s hair without warning, fingers tangled in crimson strands. “Listen to her. Talking about casualties like she’s ordering coffee. You’re adorable.”

Seraphina did not flinch.

She did, however, bare her teeth. “Touch me like that again and I will remove your fingers.”

Niks laughed, delighted. “See? Fuckin’ precious.”

Alice focused very hard on her plate.

The blood was still running.

Slow. Warm. A thin line creeping down her spine beneath the clothes, beneath the tailored layers Nox had put her in. The parasite armor was working overtime, tightening, sealing, knitting flesh.

It burned.

A deep, grinding pain that sat right next to her spine and refused to be ignored. Every breath pulled at it. Every movement sent a reminder straight up her back.

She took another bite of meat.

Chewed.

Swallowed.

Her hands shook only a little.

The fact that she wasn’t screaming surprised the shit out of her.

Oni, she thought dimly. Guess that’s the fucking perk.

Niks’s attention snapped to her again, sharp and bright. “You’re quiet, bastard. got your tongue tied?”

Alice didn’t look up. “Just enjoying the hospitality. Real warm welcome.”

Niks grinned wider. “Aww.” She tapped the knife idly against her teeth. “You took it like a champ though. Barely twitched.”

Quin shot her a warning look. “Enough.”

Niks waved him off. “Relax. If I wanted her dead, she wouldn’t be eating.”

Seraphina chuckled softly. “High praise.”

Alice’s jaw tightened.

She **** herself to sit straighter, ignoring the way it made the pain flare hotter. The parasite responded instantly, pressure increasing, armor shifting under fabric like a living brace.

Hold. Just fucking hold.

She wasn’t small anymore.

She wasn’t fragile.

And she sure as hell wasn’t going to let them see her bleed.

So she kept eating.

And waited for breakfast to end.

Quin’s office smelled like smoke, old leather, and expensive magic.

Tall windows overlooked the city below. Everything in the room was deliberate. Heavy desk. Framed accolades. Shelves of contracts bound in red thread and blood-sealed wax.

Alice stood near the door, arms crossed, tail twitching in a slow, irritated rhythm.

Quin didn’t ask her to sit.

He leaned back in his chair instead, cigarette burning to ash between his fingers, eyes on the city rather than on her.

Silence stretched.

Not awkward. Just… familiar.

“…Niks went too far,” he said at last.

It wasn’t an apology.

It was the closest thing he had.

Alice snorted. “You think.”

“I spoke to her,” Quin continued. “It won’t happen again.”

Alice raised an eyebrow. “You promise, or you just tell yourself that so you can sleep?”

Quin glanced at her then, sharp. Measuring. Then he sighed and stubbed out what was left of his cigarette.

“I can’t change what she is,” he said. “Or what this family is. But I can make sure you’re compensated.”

There it was.

He stood and moved to a side cabinet, already opening it. “I could have a custom bike commissioned. Something fast. Armored. Maybe a spell-threaded engine. Or we can look at equipment. Artifacts. You burned through your points fast. I can help you stabilize.”

Alice stared at him like he’d just suggested buying her silence with candy.

“No.”

Quin paused. “No?”

“I don’t want a fucking motorcycle,” Alice snapped. “And I don’t want you throwing loot at me like that fixes shit.”

He studied her for a long moment. Then he nodded, slow.

“Then what do you want.”

Alice hesitated.

That pissed her off most of all.

“I want you to stop pretending this is normal,” she said finally. “I want you to stop acting like stabbing me at breakfast is just… ambiance.”

Quin’s jaw tightened. Just a fraction.

“That isn’t something I can promise,” he said honestly.

Alice laughed, sharp and humorless. “Figures.”

He stepped closer instead. Not crowding. Just enough to be heard.

“I can promise this,” Quin said. “No one in that room gets to hurt you without my say. Not Niks. Not Seraphina. Not anyone.”

Alice scoffed. “Low bar.”

“But it’s mine,” he replied.

Another silence.

Quin cleared his throat. “I can also have your old belongings brought here. Whatever you left behind. Furniture. Clothes. Bedding.”

Alice stiffened before she could stop herself.

“…My movies...my blanket?” she asked, too fast.

Quin’s mouth twitched. “Especially that.”

She looked away immediately. “Fine. That’s acceptable.”

He nodded like they’d just concluded a business deal.

“And Alice,” he added, softer, “you handled yourself well today.”

She huffed. “I didn’t stab anyone.”

“Exactly.”

“…You suck at saying sorry,” she said.

“I know,” Quin replied.

Quin didn’t light another cigarette.

That alone told Alice this part mattered.

He rested his hands on the edge of the desk instead, fingers spread, posture more honest.

“You should understand something,” he said. “Niks isn’t just my wife. She’s S-rank. Same as me.”

Alice snorted. “Yeah, I fucking noticed. She stabbed me like it was a handshake.”

Quin’s mouth twitched despite himself. “In this city, there are very few people who can stop her. Fewer who would even try. Power at that level doesn’t bend easily. You don’t persuade it. You negotiate around it.”

“And you didn’t,” Alice shot back.

“I did what I could without turning my own house into a battlefield,” he replied calmly. “That’s the tradeoff.”

She clicked her tongue, tail flicking. “So what, I’m just supposed to accept that your wife’s a walking **** playlist?”

“No,” Quin said. “You’re supposed to understand why I can’t simply order her to behave.”

Alice studied him for a second, then asked the question that had been crawling up her spine since breakfast.

“…Do you actually love her?”

Quin answered immediately.

“Yes.”

No hesitation. No caveat.

Alice blinked. “Huh.”

He exhaled, slow. “The marriage was arranged. Politics. Monopoly. Control. Every ugly word you can think of. At the time, it made sense.” He paused, eyes unfocusing just a little. “Then I saw her holding Seraphina. Newborn. Barely bigger than my forearm. Niks looked at her like the world had narrowed down to a single, fragile thing she would burn everything to protect.”

Alice swallowed despite herself.

“That was it,” Quin said quietly. “That was when it stopped being a contract.”

“So you love her,” Alice said flatly, “even though she stabs your kid at breakfast.”

“Yes,” he repeated. “And I love you too. Differently. Complicated. Poorly expressed.” He met her eyes. “But genuinely.”

Alice scoffed, voice rough. “You’ve got a real fucked-up way of showing it.”

“I know,” Quin said. “I was not built for this.”

Finally, Alice straightened. “I’m not asking you to choose. I know how this family works.” She looked up, eyes sharp. “But if she pulls that shit again, I’m not freezing up. I don’t care how strong she is.”

Quin nodded once.

“I’d expect nothing less,” he said. “You’re my daughter.”

Alice huffed. “Low bar for approval in this house.”

“But you cleared it,” he replied.

Alice didn’t move right away.

The words sat in her chest, heavy and sharp, and then her blood did what it had been doing ever since the change.

It boiled.

“The fuck about my mom?” she snapped suddenly, voice cracking with the **** of it. “What about Maria. You gonna explain that shit or just pretend I popped out of the void?”

Quin stiffened.

Alice stood up so fast her chair scraped hard against the floor. “You say you love your wife. Fine. Great. But you still fucked my mom. So what was that, huh? A mistake? A distraction? What the fuck did she even mean to you?”

Her tail lashed behind her, claws flexing unconsciously. “What do I mean to you? Because sometimes it feels like I’m just the leftover jizz stain you learned to live with.”

The room went very still.

Quin didn’t bark back. Didn’t retreat into authority.

He stood.

Then he crossed the space between them and pulled her into a hug.

Alice froze for half a second, then the fight went out of her all at once.

“Fuck,” she choked, fists knotting in the front of his coat. “Fuck you, this is so fucked.”

“I know,” Quin said quietly, one hand braced between her shoulders, the other steady at the back of her head. “I won’t lie to you. Not about this.”

She laughed wetly against his chest. “Good. Because I’m done with half-truth bullshit.”

He took a breath.

“I knew Maria,” he said. “Long before you were born. Before the guild. Before the palace. Back when I was still an adventurer instead of… this.”

Alice stilled, just enough to hear.

“We were in the same party,” Quin continued. “For years. She saved my life more than once. I saved hers. You don’t survive that kind of thing without it building a bond.”

Alice swallowed hard. “So you loved her too.”

Quin hesitated.

“Loved,” he said carefully, “is a word that means different things at different points in your life.”

That wasn’t a denial.

Alice’s grip tightened, then finally loosened as the strength left her legs. She sank back into the chair, hands shaking, shoulders hunched.

wiping at her face angrily. “I don’t even know what to do with that.”

Quin crouched slightly so he was eye level with her. “There are parts of that story that aren’t mine to tell,” he said. “Maria deserves to choose when and how you hear them.”

Alice sniffed, laughing bitterly. “Of course she does. Everyone gets choices except me.”

“That’s not true,” Quin said. “You just made one. You’re stronger than you think.”

She pressed her palms into her eyes, breathing hard. “I hate this family. I hate this city. I hate that I care.”

A beat.

“…And I hate that I miss my mom.”

Quin didn’t answer that one.

He just stayed close.

Eventually, Alice dragged in a shaky breath and straightened, swearing under her breath as she wiped her face with the back of her hand.

“Fuck,” she muttered. “I’m sorry. Oni hormones or brain parasites or whatever the hell is wrong with me.”

Quin’s mouth twitched. “Probably all three.”

She snorted despite herself.

“…I’m gonna talk to her,” Alice said quietly. “When I’m ready.”

Quin nodded. “That’s all I’d ask.”

Alice leaned back in the chair, exhausted, eyes red, voice rough but steadier now.

Quin straightened first.

Business mode slid back over him like a coat.

“I’m sorry,” he said, already turning toward his desk. “But we can’t put this off. Your party is assembled, contracts are signed, and the city just watched you help stall a world boss. Momentum matters.”

Alice scrubbed at her face hard enough it almost hurt. “Yeah. Cool. Great timing. Love that for me.”

Quin tapped a sigil and the air above his desk began to shimmer, panels half-forming. “We need to decide your next dungeon. There are several viable ”

The door exploded open.

“OKAY BUT HEAR ME OUT ”

Rezzy burst into the office like physics had personally offended her. Smoke clung to her hair. Neon sparks popped lazily around her boots. She skidded to a stop on the polished floor, nearly ate shit, then caught herself with a little mana burst and grinned like she’d planned it.

Behind her trailed a small procession:

Jett Havoc, still casually tuning her guitar like this was backstage instead of a guildmaster’s office.

Melisse, hands folded behind his back, smiling sweetly and absolutely clocking Alice’s red eyes in half a second.

And the Døll archer, silent as a ghost, leaning against the doorframe with arms crossed, eyes glowing faint cyan in idle curiosity.

Rezzy pointed at Alice. “Good news. I found the dungeon we should do next.”

Alice spun in her chair. “WHY are you in here.”

Rezzy blinked. “Door was unlocked.”

Quin pinched the bridge of his nose. “It was not.”

Rezzy shrugged. “Unlocked by destiny.”

Alice stood up too fast, tail flicking. “You ever heard of knocking, you feral little shit.”

Rezzy grinned wider. “You look like you just cried. That means I’m early or late. Fifty-fifty.”

“I did not cry,” Alice snapped immediately, wiping at her cheek again out of pure spite. “My eyes are just sweating. Shut the fuck up.”

Melisse leaned in, stage-whispering, “Oh no. She’s in denial. That’s my favorite phase.”

“Do not,” Alice growled, “finish that sentence.”

Jett snorted. “Boss, if it helps, you still look metal as hell.”

Alice exhaled sharply through her nose. “…Thanks.”

Rezzy clapped her hands together, sparks flying. “ANYWAY. Dungeon pitch. There’s this A-rank fracture opening three regions south. Ancient ruin. Bad mana. Weird echoes. Locals say the walls scream when you kill things.”

Quin’s fingers stilled above the interface.

“…That one is unstable,” he said. “High casualty rate. Poor mapping.”

Rezzy beamed. “Exactly! Fun, dangerous, and no politics. Plus if it collapses, that’s just free explosions.”

Alice stared at her. “You are fucking insane.”

Rezzy pointed finger-guns. “Correct.”

Quin looked at Alice now, measuring again. “You don’t have to decide this second. But once you do, I’m committing resources.”

Alice glanced around the room.

At the chaos gremlin bouncing on her heels.

At the metal bard smirking like she was already writing the soundtrack.

At the incubus nurse who looked like trouble wrapped in silk.

At the silent Døll, watching everything with unreadable patience.

Alice wiped the last of the tears from her face, squared her shoulders, and bared her teeth in something like a grin.

“…Bring up the list,” she said. “If I’m gonna make a bad decision, I want fucking options.”

Rezzy pumped a fist. “YES.”

Quin sighed and flicked his wrist.

The dungeon list fully unfolded in the air.

Quin didn’t bother easing into it.

He flicked his wrist and a system panel unfolded in the air between them, hovering over his desk like a judge about to pass sentence. Three tabs burned along the top, each pulsing with its own ambient light.

“Three options,” he said. “All viable. None safe. You don’t need to choose today. I just need you to understand what you’re walking toward.”

Dice’s voice slipped in immediately, smug as ever.

[SYSTEM BRIEFING]

(Alright kids, place your bets. Will it be nature trying to eat you, gods trying to study you, or infrastructure trying to digest you. No wrong answers. Plenty of wrong deaths.)

OPTION I: THE WILD EXPANSE

The first panel bloomed into life.

A vast, land stretched across the display, broken by towering megafauna silhouettes and roving storms.

Dungeon Type: Open World / Ecosystem

Threat Curve: Escalating

Control: None

Boss Density: Variable

“This one doesn’t hate you,” Quin said. “It doesn’t care about you at all.”

He gestured, and the image shifted to show titanic beasts migrating across plains, predators hunting predators, ruins half-buried in living jungle.

“You don’t clear it. You survive it. Kill too much, something bigger notices. Move too fast, you starve. Stay too long, you become part of it.”

Rezzy leaned over the desk, eyes shining. “So it’s like… the dungeon equivalent of getting jumped by the food chain.”

“Exactly,” Quin replied.

Jett grinned. “Kinda metal, actually.”

Nox said nothing, but her tail flicked once, slow and thoughtful.

The hollow vein

OPTION II: THE ABYSSAL RELIQUARY

The room darkened as the second tab opened.

Blue light washed across the walls. Flooded corridors. Glass domes cracked under ocean pressure. Ghostly, humanoid figures drifting through water like prayers that had forgotten who they were for.

Alice’s parasite stirred.

Slow. Alert.

“This dungeon,” Quin said, voice lower now, “is watched.”

The image shifted. A colossal biomechanical serpent coiled through impossible architecture. Screens. Cables. A goddess that wasn’t a goddess anymore.

“Ophidra,” Quin continued. “The Leviathan Coil. She observes. Every fight is a test. Every **** is data.”

Melisse inhaled softly, eyes unfocused. “Oh… that place feels lonely.”

The Doll Archer tilted his head, faint light pulsing beneath his porcelain skin. “…Familiar,” he murmured, barely audible.

Rezzy grimaced. “So if we fuck up, it’s not just ****. It’s getting catalogued.”

“Yes,” Quin said. “And possibly invited to stay.”

Alice crossed her arms, jaw tight. “…I don’t like being watched.”

The parasite agreed. Quietly.

Abyssal reliquary

OPTION III: THE HOLLOW VEIN

The final panel opened with a low, industrial hum.

A city, broken vertically. Upper levels glowing with neon and desperation. Lower levels drowned in fungus, radiation, and things that should not still be alive.

“This one,” Quin said, “used to be a city.”

The display showed swarms of small glowing creatures, lumbering armored corpses, and deeper still… something vast and radiant at the core.

“Lanternfall,” he continued. “A dungeon built around a reactor that refuses to die. The deeper you go, the worse it gets. Corruption. Assimilation. Creatures that don’t understand the difference between sex and consumption.”

Rezzy leaned back. “That’s the one with the exploding mushroom dudes, right.”

“Yes.”

“And the… uh… womb monsters,” she added.

Quin’s expression didn’t change. “Also yes.”

Melisse shifted uncomfortably, tail curling closer to himself. “I don’t like that kind of forplay.”

Alice rubbed the back of her neck. “…Every option is fucked.”

Quin nodded. “Correct.”

The panels dimmed, hovering silently.

No decision made.

Rezzy bounced on her heels. “Okay but like, whatever we pick, we’re gonna be legends, right.”

Jett slung her guitar over her shoulder. “Or corpses with a sick soundtrack.”

Nox stepped closer to Alice, presence steady, grounding. “take your time.”

Alice exhaled slowly, eyes flicking between the three glowing tabs.

“…Yeah,” she muttered. “I need to sit with this shit.”

Dice laughed softly in the back of her skull.