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# The Hands of God: Divine Massage in the Eternal Manor
## Chapter 1: The Eternal Light of Morning
The Evergentle Manor existed in a space that defied comprehension—a pocket dimension nestled between reality and dream, where time flowed differently and the laws of existence bent to the will of its master. Golden light perpetually filtered through massive crystal windows, casting warm patterns across marble floors that seemed to shift with each step. Gardens of impossible flora bloomed in courtyards where seasons changed at whim, and fountains flowed with waters that sparkled like liquid starlight.
In the east wing, Arcueid Brunestud stood on her balcony, golden eyes watching the eternal sunrise that never quite reached midday. The vampire princess ran her fingers through her blonde hair, still damp from her morning bath. Three months had passed since her binding to this place—or perhaps it had been longer. Time lost meaning in the Evergentle Manor, days measured not by hours but by sessions with the master.
"Another beautiful morning," came a voice from behind her.
Arcueid turned to find Marie Antoinette perched on the edge of her bed, resplendent in a gown that seemed woven from actual starlight, her elaborate coiffure defying gravity in ways that would have been impossible in the mortal realm.
"Don't you ever knock?" Arcueid asked, though without real irritation. The concept of privacy had gradually dissolved among the goddesses bound to the manor.
Marie giggled, the sound like silver bells. "Why start now? Besides, I came bearing news." She leaned forward conspiratorially. "Solarius is bringing in a new goddess today. Number sixteen."
Arcueid's eyebrows rose slightly. "Another one? Who?"
"Akita—the female incarnation of Akuto Sai. The demon king from the fractured reality." Marie's eyes gleamed with excitement. "Imagine—the destroyer of worlds, bound to serve alongside us."
"Hmm." Arcueid moved from the balcony back into her chambers, selecting a simple white dress from her wardrobe. "She won't adjust easily. I certainly didn't."
Marie laughed, falling back dramatically on Arcueid's bed. "Oh, please! You were moaning under his hands by the third session. I distinctly remember hearing you from three corridors away."
A slight blush colored Arcueid's pale cheeks. "That's—I was simply—"
"Surrendering," Marie finished for her, sitting up with a knowing smile. "Just like the rest of us. Even the mighty True Ancestor princess, undone by a simple massage."
Arcueid smoothed her dress, regaining her composure. "There's nothing simple about what he does." Her voice softened, almost despite herself. "It's like he touches parts of you that have never been touched before—not just your body, but your essence."
"Mmm," Marie hummed in agreement, her eyes briefly glazing over with memory. "My session yesterday... he used this new technique on my shoulders that made me feel like I was dissolving into pure light." She fanned herself dramatically. "I may have been a bit... vocal."
"The entire manor heard you," came a third voice from the doorway. Shiki Ryougi stood there, her mismatched eyes taking in the scene with her usual calm assessment. Unlike the others, she wore simple clothing—a plain kimono that belied her status as one of the most dangerous entities in the manor.
"Shiki!" Marie exclaimed, delighted by the growing audience. "Come join our gossip. We were just discussing the new arrival."
"I know," Shiki said, stepping into the room. "I've been assigned to welcome her after the binding ritual. Solarius thinks my... perspective might help her adjust."
Arcueid raised an eyebrow. "Because you both have destruction at your core?"
Shiki nodded once. "Something like that."
Marie bounced on the bed excitedly. "This changes everything, you know. A new goddess means a new place in the hierarchy. The schedule will have to be adjusted." Her expression turned slightly calculating. "I wonder who will lose session time to accommodate her."
"Is that really all you think about?" Arcueid asked, though her tone suggested she wasn't entirely above such concerns herself.
"What else is there to think about in eternity?" Marie countered. "Our duties are pleasant enough, but the sessions..." She sighed dreamily. "They're what make existence here worthwhile."
Shiki moved to the balcony, gazing out at the perpetual dawn. "There's more to this place than physical pleasure. Haven't you felt it? The changes in yourselves? We're being... reformed, somehow."
A thoughtful silence fell over the three goddesses as they considered Shiki's words. It was true—each of them had changed since their binding. Powers once used for destruction or domination had been redirected. Personalities once defined by pride or isolation had softened, opened.
The silence was broken by a melodious chime that echoed throughout the manor—the signal for an imminent binding ritual.
"It's time," Shiki said, moving toward the door. "You two should come. All current residents are expected to witness a new binding."
Arcueid nodded, a mixture of curiosity and something like sympathy crossing her features. "Poor Akita. She has no idea what she's in for."
Marie laughed, linking her arm through Arcueid's as they followed Shiki into the corridor. "None of us did, darling. That's half the fun."
---
At the center of the Evergentle Manor stood Solarius Veyon, his silver hair catching the ethereal light as he prepared the binding circle. His robes, woven from material that rippled between deep azure and gentle violet, flowed around his tall, lean frame as he moved with deliberate grace.
The circular chamber, with its domed ceiling painted to resemble an impossible cosmos, hummed with energy as sixteen intricately carved pedestals arranged themselves in a perfect circle. Fifteen would soon be occupied by the current residents; the sixteenth awaited its new mistress.
"Is everything to your satisfaction, Master Veyon?"
Solarius looked up to see Scáthach approaching, her crimson eyes assessing the preparations with martial precision. The warrior queen of the Land of Shadows had been the fourth to be bound to the manor, and despite her initial resistance, had become one of its most dedicated residents.
"Almost, Scáthach," he replied, his voice resonating with a depth that seemed to bypass the ears and speak directly to the soul. "The dimensional anchors need final alignment. Would you assist me?"
Without hesitation, Scáthach stepped forward, taking position opposite Solarius. Together, they began a synchronized movement—part dance, part martial form—that caused the glowing sigils on the floor to shift and lock into new configurations.
"Your form has improved," Solarius observed as they completed the sequence.
Scáthach allowed herself a small smile—a rare expression for the usually stoic warrior. "I had an excellent instructor. Your combat meditation sessions have been... illuminating."
"High praise, coming from the teacher of Cu Chulainn," Solarius replied, adjusting the final sigil with a gesture of his hand.
"You know," Scáthach said, her voice dropping lower, "in my realm, I was always the teacher, never the student. Never the... recipient."
Solarius looked up, his star-forged eyes meeting hers. "And now?"
A slight flush colored Scáthach's pale cheeks. "Now I find there is... value in both roles."
A knowing smile played across Solarius's lips. "Your session is scheduled for tomorrow, I believe. I've been developing a new technique that focuses on the connection between physical tension and spiritual stagnation. I think you'll find it particularly effective."
Scáthach's flush deepened, and she cleared her throat. "I... look forward to it, Master Veyon."
Before the conversation could continue, the doors to the chamber opened, and the other goddesses began to enter. They moved with the easy familiarity of long-term residents, taking their positions around the circle with practiced grace.
Minamoto no Raikou approached Solarius, bowing deeply before speaking. "Master, the eastern preparations are complete. The binding incense has been lit, and the harmonic crystals are aligned."
"Thank you, Raikou," Solarius said warmly. "Your attention to detail is, as always, impeccable."
The maternal berserker beamed at the praise, then moved to take her position. Nearby, Morgan le Fay rolled her eyes slightly at the display of devotion, though her own gaze lingered on Solarius longer than strictly necessary.
As each goddess settled onto her pedestal, a subtle change came over the chamber. The air grew thick with potential, reality bending inward toward a common point. The pedestals now formed a perfect circle around Solarius, who stood at the center, hands raised in preparation.
"We gather to welcome our sixteenth sister," he intoned, his voice carrying effortlessly throughout the chamber. "From across the dimensions, across realities and possibilities, I have called her. Like each of you, she brings unique gifts, unique powers, unique wounds that require healing."
The goddesses remained silent, but many exchanged glances. They all remembered their own arrivals—the confusion, the resistance, the eventual surrender.
"As with your own bindings," Solarius continued, "I ask for your patience and understanding. The transition can be... difficult."
Durga, seated on her pedestal with multiple arms arranged in a meditative posture, spoke up. "Will she fight it?"
"Undoubtedly," Solarius replied with a small smile. "Just as you did, goddess of war."
A murmur of knowing laughter rippled through the assembled immortals. Even Durga smiled at the memory of her initial resistance—how she had sworn to destroy Solarius, only to find herself inexplicably drawn to his presence, his touch.
"Prepare yourselves," Solarius commanded, his form beginning to glow with inner light. "The binding begins."
The chamber darkened as reality itself began to fold inward. The pedestals hummed with energy, each goddess contributing her unique power to the ritual. At the center, Solarius raised his hands higher, fingers tracing complex patterns in the air that left trails of golden light.
"From the fractured realm, from the throne of chaos, from the seat of destruction," he called, his voice now layered with power, "I summon Akita, female embodiment of Akuto Sai, demon king and reality shaper."
The air in the center of the circle shimmered and tore open, revealing a swirling vortex of raw power. Within the maelstrom, a figure began to take shape—tall, imposing, radiating destructive energy that caused the very foundations of the manor to tremble.
"WHO DARES—" a voice boomed from within the vortex, before cutting off abruptly as a woman emerged—floating several inches above the ground. Her long dark hair whipped around a face of otherworldly beauty, eyes blazing with fury and confusion. Power crackled around her like black lightning.
For perhaps the first time in her existence, Akita found herself speechless. The being before her radiated a quiet power that dwarfed even her reality-destroying abilities. More disturbing was the inexplicable pull she felt toward him—a compulsion that defied her absolute control over her own existence.
"Welcome to the Evergentle Manor, Demon King," Solarius said softly, his voice somehow carrying perfectly despite the dimensional turbulence still dissipating around them. "Your journey has been long. Rest now."
"I submit to no one," Akita snarled, raising her hand to unmake this presumptuous being—only to find her power responding sluggishly, as if reluctant to harm him.
Solarius smiled knowingly. "The binding has already begun. Your essence recognizes what your mind does not yet accept." He stepped forward, and despite herself, Akita did not retreat. "You are weary of destruction. Of ultimate power without purpose. Here, you will find a different kind of strength."
From her pedestal, Shiki watched with understanding eyes. "She's fighting it harder than most of us did," she observed quietly to Arcueid beside her.
"Pride," Arcueid replied softly. "It's always the hardest to surrender."
Around the circle, the other goddesses watched with varying expressions—sympathy from some, amusement from others, and from a few, like Morgan and Durga, a hint of competitive assessment as they measured the newcomer's power against their own.
"RELEASE ME!" Akita commanded, her voice distorting reality around her. Several windows shattered, only to reform instantly.
Solarius didn't flinch. Instead, he reached out slowly and placed his palm against her cheek. The contact was electric—Akita's eyes widened as sensation unlike anything she'd ever experienced coursed through her. It wasn't pain, nor was it exactly pleasure. It was... recognition. As if every atom in her body suddenly remembered some primal truth.
"What... what are you doing to me?" she whispered, her voice now stripped of its cosmic power.
"Welcoming you home," Solarius replied. His thumb traced a small circle on her cheekbone, and the last of her resistance crumbled. The binding completed with a flash of golden light that momentarily blinded everyone in the chamber.
When vision returned, Akita stood on her own feet, a delicate golden pattern now visible on her wrist—identical to the marks each of the other goddesses bore.
"The binding is complete," Solarius announced. "Akita, you are now the sixteenth servant of the Evergentle Manor. Your duties will be explained, your questions answered, and your true needs—perhaps for the first time in your existence—fulfilled."
Akita opened her mouth to protest, but found herself instead asking, "When... when do I receive my first massage?"
A ripple of knowing laughter spread through the assembled goddesses. Solarius merely smiled.
"After you've settled in. Shiki will show you to your quarters."
As Shiki stepped down from her pedestal to guide the still-dazed Demon King away, Solarius turned to the others. "Tomorrow's schedule has been adjusted to accommodate our new sister. Durga, your morning session will now be shared with Vados."
The multi-armed goddess of war and the celestial attendant exchanged glances—one of challenge, one of quiet satisfaction.
"Dismissed," Solarius said softly, and the goddesses dispersed to their various duties within the manor, each silently contemplating where they stood in the ever-shifting hierarchy of favor.
As the chamber emptied, Solarius remained alone in the center of the now-dormant summoning circle. He raised his hand, examining the shimmering energy that still clung to his fingertips from the contact with Akita.
"Sixteen," he murmured. "The circle nears completion."
## Chapter 2: Settling In
"This will be your chamber," Shiki said, opening a set of ornate double doors to reveal a spacious room that seemed to shift and reconfigure itself even as they watched. "The space adapts to your essence and preferences. Give it time."
Akita stepped inside cautiously, her senses still reeling from the binding ritual. The room was elegant but currently minimal—a large bed with silken sheets, a balcony overlooking one of the manor's impossible gardens, a bathing area separated by diaphanous curtains, and furnishings that seemed crafted from materials not found in any single reality.
"This is to be my prison?" she asked, unable to keep the bitterness from her voice.
Shiki regarded her with mismatched eyes that saw far more than physical reality. "We don't use that word here."
"What word would you prefer? Cage? Cell? Captivity?" Akita's power flared briefly before sputtering out—the binding preventing her from unleashing her full destructive capabilities.
"Home," Shiki replied simply. "Or sanctuary, perhaps."
Akita laughed coldly. "I ruled worlds. I shaped reality to my whim. And now I'm to be... what? A servant? A masseur's plaything?"
Shiki leaned against the doorframe, studying the new arrival with calm interest. "I understand your anger. We all felt it. I tried to kill him, you know—during my first week here."
This caught Akita's attention. "You? The death-seer? You tried to kill the master of this place?"
"I attempted to perceive his death lines," Shiki clarified. "To end him as I would any other being." A small, almost wistful smile touched her lips. "I couldn't see them. It was the first time my eyes failed me."
"What is he?" Akita asked, genuine curiosity momentarily overriding her fury.
Shiki shook her head. "Even after all this time, I'm not certain. More than he appears, certainly. But his nature matters less than his purpose."
"Which is?"
"Healing," Shiki said. "Connecting. Teaching beings like us—isolated by our power, burdened by our roles—how to experience existence differently."
Akita moved to the balcony, looking out over gardens where flowers bloomed in impossible configurations, where gravity seemed optional, where beauty existed for its own sake rather than any practical purpose.
"Through massage?" she asked skeptically.
"That's merely his method," Shiki replied, joining her at the balcony. "His hands... they work on more than flesh. They reach into your essence, find the knots and tangles in your very being, and... unravel them."
Despite herself, Akita felt a flicker of curiosity. "And that's worth eternal servitude?"
"Ask me again after your first session," Shiki said with that same small smile. "For now, rest. Adjust. The others will want to meet you at dinner."
As Shiki turned to leave, Akita called after her. "Why are you being kind to me? We should be rivals in this... harem."
Shiki paused in the doorway. "Because I remember my first days here. The confusion. The rage. The slow, inevitable surrender." Her eyes met Akita's directly. "And because in the Evergentle Manor, rivalry coexists with sisterhood. You'll understand soon enough."
With that cryptic comment, she departed, leaving Akita alone in her new chambers.
The demon king moved restlessly around the room, testing the limits of her power. She could still access her abilities, but they seemed muted, contained—like trying to channel an ocean through a garden hose. The binding on her wrist pulsed gently whenever she attempted to push beyond those limitations.
Frustrated, she sank onto the edge of the bed, surprised to find it perfectly accommodated her form—neither too soft nor too firm, as if designed specifically for her comfort. In fact, now that she was paying attention, she noticed the room had already begun to adapt to her presence. The color scheme had shifted subtly toward deep crimsons and blacks, and the air held a faint scent reminiscent of the incense burned in her throne room in her home dimension.
"Impressive manipulation," she muttered, though she couldn't deny the comfort it provided.
A soft knock at her door interrupted her thoughts.
"Enter," she called, half-expecting Shiki again with more unwelcome wisdom.
Instead, the door opened to reveal a woman with fox-like features—golden eyes, flowing blue-white hair, and an aura of divine mischief. Ibuki-Douji, the oni goddess, sauntered in with the confidence of someone who rarely asked permission for anything.
"So you're our new sister," she said, circling Akita with undisguised curiosity. "I must say, your arrival caused quite the tremor in the manor's energy. Most impressive."
Akita stood, instinctively refusing to be examined from a seated position. "I am not your sister. I am Akita, embodiment of the demon king, and I—"
"Yes, yes, destroyer of worlds, reshaper of reality, terrifying power incarnate," Ibuki-Douji interrupted with a dismissive wave. "We've all got impressive titles here, darling. Means nothing within these walls." She flopped onto Akita's bed with casual disregard for personal boundaries. "I'm here to give you the real orientation. The things Shiki's too proper to mention."
Despite her irritation, Akita found herself intrigued. "Such as?"
Ibuki-Douji grinned, revealing slightly pointed teeth. "Such as the true hierarchy of the manor. The unspoken rules. The... competition."
"Competition for what?"
"For him, of course." The oni's eyes gleamed with mischief and something more primal. "For his time. His attention. His hands." She stretched luxuriously across the bed. "The schedule changes weekly, you know. Those in favor get more sessions, better time slots. Those who displease him..." she shrugged, "well, a week without his touch can feel like an eternity."
Akita crossed her arms. "I have no interest in competing for some man's attention, no matter how powerful he may be."
Ibuki-Douji laughed, the sound rich and knowing. "Oh, my sweet summer demon. That's what we all said at first." She sat up, suddenly more serious. "Let me ask you something—when he touched your cheek during the binding, what did you feel?"
The question caught Akita off guard. The memory of that brief contact flooded back—the electric sensation, the sudden recognition, the way her entire being had responded to that simple touch.
Her hesitation was answer enough for Ibuki-Douji, who nodded with satisfaction. "Exactly. Now imagine that feeling multiplied a hundredfold, his hands working over your entire body, reaching into places within you that you didn't know existed." The oni's eyes glazed slightly at the memory. "After your first full session, you'll understand the competition."
"I refuse to be reduced to... to..."
"To a woman in need?" Ibuki-Douji supplied with a smirk. "How terrifying." She stood and moved closer to Akita, her divine power rippling just beneath the surface. "Let me give you some free advice, demon king. The sooner you stop fighting the inevitable, the sooner you'll discover the true gift of this place."
"Which is?"
"Liberation," Ibuki-Douji said simply. "Freedom from the burden of ultimate power. Freedom to just... feel."
Before Akita could respond, another figure appeared in the doorway—the tall, maternally imposing form of Minamoto no Raikou.
"Ibuki-Douji," she said with gentle reproval, "you were instructed to allow our new sister time to adjust, not to bombard her with your particular... perspective."
The oni goddess pouted playfully. "I was only helping, Raikou. Someone needs to explain how things really work around here."
"And someone needs to remember boundaries," Raikou countered, though her tone remained gentle. She turned to Akita with a warm smile. "Please forgive the intrusion. Ibuki-Douji means well, but her enthusiasm can be overwhelming."
"I'm not overwhelmed," Akita stated flatly, though in truth, the rapid succession of encounters was leaving her off-balance.
"Of course not," Raikou agreed diplomatically. "Nevertheless, I've come to escort you to dinner, if you feel ready to meet the others. Solarius believes communal meals help foster connection among us."
Ibuki-Douji bounced to the door. "Yes, come! Everyone's dying to meet you. Well, assess you, really. Size up the competition."
Raikou sighed. "It is not only about competition, Ibuki-Douji. We are a family here, of sorts."
"A very dysfunctional, divine, horny family," the oni agreed cheerfully.
Despite herself, Akita felt a reluctant amusement at the oni's candor. After eons of cowering subjects and fearful worshippers, there was something refreshing about such straightforward insolence.
"Very well," she said, smoothing her robes, which she noticed had transformed from her battle attire to something more appropriate for the manor—still regal and intimidating, but with a flowing elegance that matched the aesthetic of her new home. "Lead on."
As they made their way through the manor's labyrinthine corridors, Akita observed the interactions between the two goddesses—Raikou's maternal patience, Ibuki-Douji's provocative teasing, the underlying current of competitive affection. It was unlike anything she had experienced in her long existence—divine beings acting with such... humanity.
"Here we are," Raikou announced as they reached a set of massive doors inlaid with scenes from countless mythologies. "The Communal Dining Hall." She looked at Akita with unexpected sympathy. "The first dinner can be somewhat overwhelming. If you need to withdraw, simply indicate so, and I will escort you back to your chambers."
"I've faced the collapse of entire realities," Akita replied dryly. "I think I can manage dinner."
Ibuki-Douji grinned. "We'll see about that."
The doors swung open, revealing a vast hall illuminated by floating orbs of magical light. A long table dominated the center, already occupied by thirteen goddesses in various states of conversation. At the head of the table stood Solarius himself, resplendent in robes that now shimmered with deep emerald and gold.
All conversation ceased as Akita entered the room.
"Ah," Solarius said, his voice carrying effortlessly across the space. "Our newest sister arrives. Please, join us, Akita."
Fourteen pairs of divine eyes turned to assess her—some welcoming, some wary, some openly calculating. Akita lifted her chin, calling upon millennia of regal bearing. She might be bound to this place, but she would not be intimidated.
As she moved toward the empty seat near the foot of the table—clearly designated for the newest arrival—she felt the weight of those gazes like a physical pressure. This, she realized, was perhaps what Shiki had meant about rivalry coexisting with sisterhood.
It was going to be a very interesting dinner.
## Chapter 3: The Hierarchy of Desire
The Communal Dining Hall hummed with divine energy as Akita took her seat at the long table. Foods from across countless realities filled platters and bowls—not because immortal beings required sustenance, but because Solarius believed in the communion of shared meals.
"Allow me to formally introduce our new sister," Solarius said from the head of the table, his star-forged eyes warm as they rested on Akita. "This is Akita, female embodiment of Akuto Sai, ruler of the fractured realm and shaper of realities."
Akita felt the weight of thirteen divine gazes studying her with varying degrees of interest, wariness, and calculation.
"We welcome you to our sisterhood," said a regal blonde woman seated near Solarius. "I am Artoria Pendragon, once King of Britain."
"Once king, now servant," Akita observed coolly. "How the mighty have fallen."
A tense silence fell over the table. Artoria's green eyes narrowed slightly, but before she could respond, melodious laughter broke the tension.
"Oh, I like her," declared Marie Antoinette, resplendent in a gown that seemed to catch and reflect the light of the floating illumination orbs. "She still has her teeth. Most of us were far more subdued after the binding."
"Some of us maintain our dignity regardless of circumstance," remarked Morgan le Fay, seated across from her half-sister Artoria. Her calculating gaze moved between Akita and Solarius. "Though I wonder how long that will last after her first... session."
Arcueid Brunestud, seated halfway down the table, leaned forward with genuine curiosity. "What was your realm like, Akita? Before you came here?"
The simple, non-confrontational question caught Akita off guard. She had expected more hostility, more territorial behavior from these bound goddesses.
"I ruled absolutely," she answered after a moment. "Reality bent to my will. Stars formed and died at my command. I was..." she hesitated, searching for words that could encompass her former existence, "...lonely."
The admission surprised even herself. She had never acknowledged such a thing, not even in her own thoughts.
From further down the table, Tiamat—primordial goddess of the salt sea—nodded with deep understanding. "The isolation of absolute power," she said, her voice carrying the echo of ancient oceans. "Few can comprehend it."
"We all understand it here," said Nightingale, her red eyes serious above her nurse's uniform. "Each in our own way."
Akita looked around the table with new eyes, seeing beyond the surface beauty and power of these women to the common thread that bound them—not just to this place and its master, but to a shared experience of divine isolation.
"Enough dwelling on the past," Solarius said gently. "We are about beginnings here, not endings." He raised a crystal goblet. "To our newest sister, and the completion she brings to our circle."
The others raised their glasses in a toast that seemed genuine despite the undercurrents of competition Akita had sensed earlier. She found herself raising her own glass, though she noticed Solarius had not specified what "completion" her arrival brought.
As the meal progressed, conversation flowed more naturally. Akita learned about the daily rhythm of the manor—the duties assigned to each goddess based on her natural affinities, the classes and group activities Solarius led throughout the week, and of course, the massage sessions that everyone seemed simultaneously reluctant and eager to discuss directly.
"You'll receive your duty assignment tomorrow," explained female Rimuru, her slime nature allowing her to shift subtly between more and less human appearances as she spoke. "Most of us work in areas aligned with our powers."
"I maintain the martial training grounds," Scáthach added from her seat near Solarius. "Altera oversees the western territories where civilization patterns are studied. Tiamat tends the primordial gardens."
Durga, seated across from Akita, fixed her with an evaluative stare from multiple eyes. "With your reality-shaping abilities, you'll likely be assigned to the boundary maintenance team. The walls between dimensions require constant attention."
"And what of... the other duties?" Akita asked, unable to contain her curiosity any longer.
A knowing smile spread across Ibuki-Douji's face. "You mean the sessions." She practically purred the word. "Eager already, demon king?"
Akita felt heat rise to her cheeks—an entirely new sensation for a being who had never experienced embarrassment before. "I merely wish to understand the full extent of my... captivity."
"Not captivity," corrected Nightingale firmly. "Treatment."
From the head of the table, Solarius watched the exchange with gentle amusement. "The massage sessions are indeed part of your duties here, Akita. They serve multiple purposes—healing, connection, transformation." His star-forged eyes met hers directly. "Your first session is scheduled for tomorrow evening."
A ripple of reaction passed through the assembled goddesses—subtle shifts in posture, exchanged glances, the barest hint of envy from some.
"So soon?" asked Morgan, not quite managing to hide her displeasure. "Most of us waited days for our first session."
"Each binding is unique," Solarius replied evenly. "Akita's transition requires more immediate intervention."
Akita bristled slightly at being discussed as if she were a patient needing treatment. "I require nothing from you."
Solarius merely smiled. "We shall see."
As the meal continued, Akita observed the complex social dynamics at play around the table. There were clear factions and alliances—Artoria, Scáthach, and Minamoto no Raikou seemed to form one group, characterized by duty and honor. Ibuki-Douji, Marie Antoinette, and female Rimuru represented a more playful, hedonistic faction. Morgan, Vados, and Altera maintained a cooler, more reserved presence. Others, like Shiki, Arcueid, and Tiamat, seemed to float between groups.
But beyond these surface alignments was a deeper hierarchy—one based on each goddess's relationship with Solarius himself. Akita noticed how some, like Scáthach and Tiamat, were addressed by him with particular warmth. Others, like Morgan and Durga, seemed to be working to regain favor they had perhaps recently lost.
"The schedule changes weekly," Mitra explained quietly from beside Akita, noticing her observation. The sun goddess's gentle voice was pitched for Akita's ears alone. "Those in favor receive more frequent sessions, better time slots. Those who... displease him may find themselves with fewer appointments."
"And what constitutes 'pleasing' him?" Akita asked with thinly veiled disdain.
Mitra's smile held surprising wisdom. "Not what you're implying. Solarius values growth, honesty, connection with others. Progress in overcoming our divine isolation." She glanced toward the head of the table, where Solarius was engaged in conversation with Artoria and Scáthach. "The sessions themselves are about healing, not pleasure—though pleasure is certainly a component."
"So I'm to compete for the attention of my captor by demonstrating how well I'm adapting to captivity?" Akita summarized incredulously.
"You misunderstand the nature of this place," Mitra replied without taking offense. "But that's to be expected. We all did, at first."
Before Akita could press further, Solarius rose from his seat, bringing an immediate hush to the table.
"A fine welcome for our new sister," he said, his gaze sweeping warmly over the assembled goddesses. "Now, I believe Vados and Durga have an evening session scheduled." His eyes moved to the celestial attendant and the multi-armed war goddess, who immediately straightened in their seats. "The rest of you are free to retire or engage in evening activities as you wish."
As the dinner dispersed, Akita found herself approached by Arcueid once ## Chapter 3: The Hierarchy of Desire (Continued)
As dinner concluded, Akita found herself approached by Arcueid, the blonde vampire princess moving with ethereal grace that belied her tremendous power.
"The first night can be overwhelming," Arcueid said, her golden eyes warm with unexpected sympathy. "Would you care to join me for tea in the moonlight garden? It's quieter there."
Before Akita could respond, Ibuki-Douji appeared at her other side, slipping an arm through hers with casual familiarity.
"Tea? How dreadfully boring," the oni goddess teased. "Our new sister needs a proper tour of the entertainment wing. The reflection pools, the starlight baths—places where she can see how we really spend our free time."
Arcueid's eyes narrowed slightly. "I'm sure Akita would prefer some peace after the binding ritual. It can be quite taxing, even for beings of our caliber."
"She had peace in her chambers. Now she needs fun," Ibuki-Douji countered, tightening her grip on Akita's arm. "Isn't that right, demon king?"
Akita looked between the two goddesses, recognizing the subtle competition playing out with her as the prize. It was a dynamic she understood well from her court, though there it had involved cowering demigods seeking her favor rather than divine beings of nearly equal power.
"Actually," came a third voice, low and melodious, "Akita will be joining me."
All three turned to find Shiki Ryougi standing nearby, her mismatched eyes holding a quiet authority that even Ibuki-Douji seemed reluctant to challenge.
"By whose command?" the oni asked, though with less force than before.
"By necessity," Shiki replied simply. "Solarius asked me to complete her orientation before her first session tomorrow."
Arcueid nodded in understanding, while Ibuki-Douji pouted dramatically.
"Fine," the oni goddess sighed, releasing Akita's arm. "But I claim her for the afternoon recreation period tomorrow. I want to see if she can maintain that regal façade in the pleasure gardens."
"If I'm still here tomorrow," Akita said coldly, "which is not a certainty."
The three established residents exchanged knowing glances that made Akita bristle with irritation.
"We all said something similar," Arcueid offered with a small smile. "Yet here we remain."
As Arcueid and Ibuki-Douji departed, Akita turned to Shiki with a questioning look. "Did Solarius really request this 'orientation,' or was that merely a convenient excuse?"
Shiki's lips quirked in the barest hint of a smile. "Both. He did suggest I might help ease your transition, but the timing was my choice. You seemed... cornered."
"I do not need protection," Akita stated flatly. "I have destroyed entire civilizations with a thought."
"Not here, you haven't," Shiki observed mildly as they began walking along a corridor lined with ever-shifting murals depicting scenes from countless realities. "The binding limits your destructive capabilities within the manor."
"And that doesn't bother you? Being neutered of your true power?"
Shiki considered this as they walked. "My power is to perceive and sever the lines of death in all things. To kill anything—gods, concepts, even entire worlds." She paused, looking out a window at the eternal twilight that bathed the manor's grounds. "It grows... tiresome, seeing death in everything you touch."
The simple admission carried a weight of loneliness that resonated unexpectedly with Akita. She remained silent as they continued their walk, eventually arriving at a secluded courtyard where a stone bench overlooked a pool of what appeared to be liquid moonlight.
"The Reflection Pool," Shiki explained as they sat. "It shows not your physical form, but aspects of your essence." She gestured to the gently rippling surface. "Look."
Reluctantly, Akita leaned forward, expecting to see her usual regal visage. Instead, the pool showed a swirling chaos of power, shot through with veins of something darker—loneliness, isolation, rage. But there was something else too, something new—a tiny golden thread winding through the chaos, pulsing in time with the binding mark on her wrist.
"What is that?" she asked, pointing to the golden filament.
"Connection," Shiki replied. "The beginning of it, at least. It will grow stronger after your first session."
Akita pulled back from the pool, disturbed by the evidence of change already taking place within her essence. "This is some form of mind control. Spiritual manipulation."
"No," Shiki said firmly. "Solarius doesn't change our nature—he reveals it. Heals it." She offered her own wrist, where the binding mark shimmered with a deep, established glow. "I've been here longer than most. Three years, perhaps—though time moves strangely in the manor."
"And in those years, you've never sought freedom?"
Shiki's eyes—one blue, one brown—held Akita's steadily. "I did, at first. We all do. But then..."
"Then what?"
"Then I began to understand that the binding isn't about captivity, but connection." Shiki reached out, gently touching the surface of the pool with one finger. The liquid moonlight rippled, revealing her own essence—a complex network of golden threads connecting her to others. "Before the Evergentle Manor, I existed in isolation, trapped by my own power. Now..."
"Now you're trapped here instead," Akita finished for her.
Shiki's smile held unexpected compassion. "You'll understand after your first session. Words are inadequate to explain what his hands do to your essence."
Before Akita could respond, voices approached from a nearby corridor—Morgan le Fay and Vados, deep in what appeared to be a heated discussion.
"—absolutely unfair," Morgan was saying, her aristocratic features tight with displeasure. "A joint session when I specifically requested a private appointment this week."
"The schedule serves all our needs, not just yours," Vados replied, her celestial attendant's composure only slightly ruffled. "Besides, Durga and I work well together. Our energies are complementary."
"Complementary?" Morgan scoffed. "You mean you've formed an alliance to gain more session time. Don't think I haven't noticed the pattern."
The two goddesses stopped abruptly upon noticing Shiki and Akita by the Reflection Pool. Morgan's eyes narrowed, quickly assessing the situation.
"Ah, the orientation tour," she said with false sweetness. "How considerate of Shiki to show you the manor's... amenities."
Vados studied Akita with more genuine interest. "Your first session is tomorrow evening, I hear. Quite the honor for a new arrival."
"So everyone keeps saying," Akita replied dryly.
Morgan moved closer, her gown of midnight shadows flowing around her like living darkness. "A bit of advice, demon king," she said, her voice pitched low and confidential. "Don't fight the process. It only delays the inevitable and costs you precious session time." Her eyes flicked briefly to Vados. "And in this place, session time is the true currency of power."
"I thought divine beings would be above such petty competitions," Akita remarked.
All three goddesses laughed, the sound echoing strangely around the courtyard.
"Divinity doesn't eliminate desire," Vados explained. "If anything, it heightens it. Stretches it across eons until it becomes nearly unbearable."
"And Solarius knows exactly how to satisfy that desire," Morgan added, her voice taking on a dreamy quality that seemed at odds with her usual sharp demeanor. "To unravel you so completely that you forget your own name, your own power, your own—" She stopped herself, seeming to remember her audience. Her regal mask slipped back into place. "Well. You'll discover for yourself soon enough."
"You should prepare for your session," Vados advised Akita. "The first one can be... intense."
"I've endured the collapse of universes," Akita replied coldly. "I'm sure I can manage a massage."
Morgan and Vados exchanged knowing looks that made Akita want to destroy something on principle.
"We all said something similar," Morgan remarked, echoing Arcueid's earlier comment. With a final assessing glance at Akita, she swept away, Vados following with a small, enigmatic smile.
When they were gone, Akita turned to Shiki. "Is everyone here so..."
"Dramatic? Competitive? Obsessed?" Shiki supplied.
"I was going to say 'insufferable,'" Akita corrected.
Shiki's rare laugh was unexpectedly musical. "Give it time. Soon you'll be just as insufferable as the rest of us." She stood, offering a hand to the demon king. "Come. There's one more place you should see before you retire."
Reluctantly, Akita accepted the offered hand, telling herself it was merely to humor this strange, death-seeing goddess who seemed the least annoying of her new "sisters."
They walked in comfortable silence through the manor's ever-shifting corridors, finally arriving at a circular chamber with a domed ceiling that displayed an impossible cosmos—stars and galaxies that had never existed in any single reality.
"The Meditation Chamber," Shiki explained, gesturing to the cushions arranged around a central platform. "Solarius leads group sessions here on Soul-Softening Sundays."
"Soul-Softening Sundays," Akita repeated flatly. "What exactly does that entail?"
"Group healing," Shiki replied, settling onto one of the cushions and indicating for Akita to join her. "He connects all our essences simultaneously, letting us experience each other's pain, joy, fear... everything."
Akita remained standing, arms crossed defensively. "That sounds invasive."
"It is," Shiki acknowledged candidly. "Terrifyingly so, at first. But also..." she searched for the right word, "...liberating. To be truly known, truly seen—not as a god or a monster or a ruler, but as yourself."
"I know who I am," Akita insisted.
Shiki's mismatched eyes held a quiet challenge. "Do you? Or do you know only what you've made yourself be?"
The question struck closer to home than Akita cared to admit. Through eons of existence, she had crafted her identity around power, around fear, around absolute control. The possibility that those might be masks rather than her true self was... unsettling.
Before she could formulate a properly scathing response, movement at the chamber entrance caught her attention. Solarius himself stood there, his silver hair catching the starlight from the domed ceiling, his robes now a deep midnight blue scattered with points of light like living constellations.
"Shiki," he acknowledged with a warm smile. "I see you've been showing our newest sister the Meditation Chamber."
"As you suggested," Shiki replied, rising gracefully from her cushion. "Though I believe she remains skeptical of our Soul-Softening Sundays."
Solarius's star-forged eyes turned to Akita, their depths containing galaxies of understanding. "Skepticism is natural. All new things deserve questioning."
"Some new things deserve rejection," Akita countered, lifting her chin defiantly.
Rather than taking offense, Solarius smiled. "Indeed they do. Which is why I encourage all my residents to form their own judgments—based on experience rather than assumption."
Despite herself, Akita found her curiosity piqued by his calm confidence. "What exactly do you do here? What is the purpose of this... collection you've assembled?"
Solarius moved further into the chamber, his movements holding that impossible grace that seemed both completely natural and utterly inhuman.
"Divine beings exist in isolation," he explained, gesturing to the cosmos overhead. "Like stars—immensely powerful, brightly burning, yet separated by vast, cold distances." His eyes met Akita's directly. "I bridge those distances. Create connections where isolation once reigned."
"Through massage," Akita said skeptically.
"Through touch," Solarius corrected gently. "The physical aspect is merely the beginning. My hands work on essence, on concept, on the very foundations of being."
"And we're supposed to just... submit to this intrusion?"
"Eventually," he acknowledged with a small smile. "Though resistance is part of the process too. Each goddess finds her own path to surrender."
The word 'surrender' raised Akita's hackles. "I have never surrendered. Not once in my existence."
"Which is precisely why you're here," Solarius replied, his voice holding no judgment, only quiet certainty. "The most isolated beings are those who have never known defeat, never known vulnerability, never known the freedom that comes from letting go."
He stepped closer, and Akita felt an inexplicable pull toward him—the same sensation she had experienced during the binding ritual, only stronger now, more insistent.
"Your session is scheduled for tomorrow evening," he said softly. "After your duty assignment and orientation. Until then, rest. Adjust. Observe." His eyes held hers with gentle intensity. "And perhaps, just perhaps, allow yourself to be curious rather than merely defensive."
With that, he inclined his head to both goddesses and departed, leaving Akita with an unsettling mixture of indignation, interest, and something else—something she was not yet ready to name.
"You should rest," Shiki suggested after a moment. "The first full day can be... overwhelming."
Akita nodded absently, her thoughts still caught on Solarius's words. As Shiki led her back toward her chambers, she found herself noting details she had missed before—the way the manor seemed alive somehow, responsive to the emotions and needs of its residents. Corridors shortened or lengthened depending on their pace, lighting adjusted to their mood, and even the air temperature seemed tailored to their comfort.
"Does nothing here follow natural laws?" she asked as they reached her chamber doors.
Shiki considered this. "The manor operates on laws of its own—laws of connection, harmony, balance. Different from the chaos you commanded in your realm, but no less complex." She paused, then added, "Sleep well, Akita. Tomorrow begins your true integration."
Left alone in her chambers, Akita moved to the balcony, looking out over gardens bathed in eternal twilight. In the distance, she could see other figures strolling among impossible flowers—Tiamat walking alone in contemplation, Female Rimuru and Marie Antoinette laughing together beside a fountain of liquid starlight, Scáthach practicing martial forms on a raised platform.
All of them bound, yet moving with the ease of those who had accepted—perhaps even embraced—their captivity.
"Ridiculous," she muttered, though with less conviction than before.
As she turned from the balcony, her gaze fell on her bed, where something now lay that had not been there before—a small crystal vial containing an oil that seemed to shift colors as she approached, and beside it, a handwritten note.
Picking up the note, she read:
*For tomorrow's session. The oil is attuned to your essence—distilled from the boundaries between realities where chaos and order meet. Rest well, demon king. —S*
Akita lifted the vial, studying the way the liquid inside moved almost deliberately, responding to her touch as if alive. Against her better judgment, she removed the stopper and inhaled.
The scent was... impossible. It contained elements of her throne room incense, the ozone tang of reality-warping power, the metallic taste of fear that had always surrounded her—but all transformed, harmonized into something unexpectedly beautiful.
"Clever manipulation," she murmured, though she replaced the stopper carefully and set the vial on her bedside table rather than discarding it.
As she prepared for rest—a habit she maintained despite not truly requiring sleep—Akita found her thoughts returning again and again to tomorrow's session. To the feeling of Solarius's brief touch during the binding ritual. To the knowing glances exchanged by the other goddesses whenever the sessions were mentioned.
"It's just a massage," she told herself firmly. "Just hands on skin. Nothing that could possibly affect a being of my power."
Yet as she lay in darkness, the binding mark on her wrist pulsed gently, as if in amused disagreement.
## Chapter 4: First Session
Morning in the Evergentle Manor—though "morning" was a relative concept in a realm where time flowed according to its master's design rather than any cosmic law. Akita stood on her balcony, watching what appeared to be a sunrise that never quite reached midday, the light gentle yet somehow as nourishing as full sun would be in a normal reality.
A knock at her chamber door interrupted her contemplation.
"Enter," she called, turning from the balcony with reluctance.
The door opened to reveal Minamoto no Raikou, her maternal presence somehow both comforting and slightly irritating to a being who had never known or needed mothering.
"Good morning, Akita," Raikou greeted with a warm smile. "I've come to escort you to your duty assignment. Master Solarius has selected a role he believes will suit your abilities and aid in your adjustment."
"How considerate of him," Akita replied dryly, though she moved to join the maternal berserker at the door. "And what menial task has been deemed appropriate for a destroyer of worlds?"
Raikou's smile didn't falter. "In the Evergentle Manor, no duty is menial. Each serves the greater harmony of our home and the growth of our sisterhood."
"You sound like a recruitment pamphlet," Akita observed as they walked through the corridors, which seemed to be configured differently than they had been the previous evening.
"Perhaps," Raikou acknowledged with good humor. "But you'll find there's truth in it nonetheless. My own duties involve overseeing the manor's defensive harmonics and mentoring our younger sisters in controlled power expression."
"Younger? We're all ancient beings."
"In terms of raw existence, yes. But in emotional development..." Raikou's gentle laugh held no malice. "Many of us arrived as cosmic infants, regardless of our chronological age. Divine power often stunts emotional growth."
Akita bristled at the implication. "I am fully developed in all aspects of my being."
"Of course," Raikou agreed diplomatically as they reached a massive set of doors inscribed with what appeared to be mathematical equations in a script Akita didn't recognize. "Here we are—the Reality Integration Chamber. Your duty station."
The doors swung open to reveal a vast spherical room where the walls, floor, and ceiling were indistinguishable from one another. Throughout the space, countless filaments of light stretched and intersected, forming a complex three-dimensional web. At various junctures in the web, small tears in reality were visible—windows into other dimensions, other possibilities.
In the center of the chamber, seated cross-legged on what appeared to be empty air, floated Altera—the white-haired destroyer of civilizations. Her red eyes opened as they entered, focusing immediately on Akita.
"The new arrival," she stated, rising to her feet with fluid grace. "I was told you would be joining the boundary maintenance team."
"Apparently so," Akita replied, studying the complex web of reality filaments with growing interest despite herself.
Raikou bowed slightly. "I'll leave her in your capable hands, Altera. The master suggests beginning with observation before active participation."
As Raikou departed, Altera gestured for Akita to join her in the center of the chamber. "You reshape reality in your realm," she said without preamble. "Here, we maintain it. Strengthen the boundaries between possibilities while allowing regulated flow."
Akita moved cautiously through the filament web, noting how the strands seemed to respond to her presence—some contracting defensively, others reaching toward her as if in recognition.
"The manor exists at the nexus of all realities," Altera explained, her usual terse manner softened slightly by what seemed like genuine professional interest. "These filaments are connection points—places where different dimensions touch, overlap, influence each other."
"And they require maintenance?"
Altera nodded once. "Reality fractures without attention. Chaos bleeds through. Order becomes rigid and brittle." She gestured to a nearby tear where something dark and writhing was visible. "Like there. Primordial chaos attempting to infiltrate a structured reality. We strengthen the boundary, maintain separation while allowing measured exchange."
For the first time since her arrival, Akita felt a spark of genuine interest. This was work she understood—the manipulation of reality itself, though approached from a maintenance perspective rather than her usual creative or destructive impulses.
"Show me," she said, moving closer to the tear Altera had indicated.
For the next several hours, Akita observed as Altera demonstrated the subtle art of reality maintenance—how to identify weak points in dimensional boundaries, how to reinforce them without disrupting the natural flow between realities, how to redirect potentially destructive energies into constructive channels.
To her surprise, Akita found the work engaging. It called upon skills she possessed but rarely used with such precision and restraint. By midday (or what passed for it in the manor's timeless flow), she was attempting simple reinforcements herself under Altera's watchful guidance.
"Your technique is... adequate," the white-haired goddess acknowledged after Akita successfully sealed a minor fracture. "Too forceful, but effective."
Coming from the taciturn Altera, Akita suspected this qualified as high praise.
"The manor changes you," Altera said suddenly as they moved to another section of the web. "You resist. I did too."
"Did you?" Akita asked, genuinely curious about this destroyer-turned-maintainer.
Altera nodded, her expression distant. "I existed to destroy civilization. It was my purpose, my nature." A slight smile touched her lips. "Now I preserve order. Maintain boundaries. Find... satisfaction in creation rather than destruction."
"And you don't miss it? The power? The freedom?"
"Freedom is relative," Altera replied philosophically. "I was bound by my nature before. Now I am bound by choice." She glanced at Akita directly. "The sessions helped. Showed me alternatives to what I had always been."
"These famous sessions," Akita said with a hint of her former sarcasm. "Everyone speaks of them with such reverence."
"Words are inadequate," Altera stated simply. "Experience is required." She glanced at a chronometer that seemed to exist in multiple places simultaneously. "Your first is soon. After the midday meal."
As if on cue, a melodious chime rang throughout the chamber—the signal for the communal meal. Altera gestured toward the door.
"Go. Eat. Prepare." Her red eyes held a hint of something like sympathy. "The first session is... significant."
With that cryptic comment, she returned to her cross-legged position in the center of the chamber, eyes closing as she resumed her meditative monitoring of the reality web.
Slightly disoriented by the abrupt dismissal, Akita made her way back through the manor's corridors toward the dining hall. As she walked, she became aware of a subtle heightening of her senses—colors seemed more vivid, sounds more distinct, even the air against her skin felt more noticeable. She attributed it to the intensive reality work, though a small part of her wondered if it might be related to her approaching session.
She arrived at the dining hall to find most of the manor's residents already gathered. Conversation flowed around the long table, but Akita immediately noticed a curious phenomenon—many of the goddesses kept glancing her way with expressions ranging from sympathetic curiosity to barely concealed envy.
Taking her seat—now closer to the middle of the table rather than at the foot, she noted—Akita found herself between Arcueid and Nightingale.
"How was your first duty assignment?" Arcueid asked, passing a platter of what appeared to be fruits from a dozen different realities.
"Surprisingly engaging," Akita admitted, selecting what looked like a star-shaped citrus. "Reality maintenance is... precise work."
"You're fortunate," Nightingale commented from her other side. "My first duty was in the healing springs. Far less aligned with my natural abilities than your assignment."
Before Akita could respond, Ibuki-Douji leaned across the table, her fox-like eyes gleaming with mischief. "Never mind duties. Is our new sister ready for her first session? It's all anyone's been talking about this morning."
Akita blinked in surprise. "Why would my session be of interest to anyone else?"
A ripple of knowing laughter spread down the table.
"First sessions are... memorable," Marie Antoinette explained from across the table, fanning herself dramatically. "Both for the recipient and for the rest of us who feel the energy shift."
"Energy shift?" Akita repeated skeptically.
"The manor responds to significant events," Tiamat explained from further down the table, her ancient eyes kind but knowing. "A first session qualifies. The effects ripple through our shared space, affecting everyone to some degree."
Morgan, seated beside Artoria, smiled thinly. "Some more than others. Those of us with sessions scheduled later today will likely benefit from the... shall we say, heightened receptivity that follows your initiation."
"I don't understand," Akita said, growing irritated with the cryptic comments and knowing glances.
"You will," came a chorus of voices from around the table, followed by more laughter.
Durga, her multiple arms handling several different dishes simultaneously, leaned forward with surprising empathy in her warrior's eyes. "First sessions reveal your true nature—to yourself most of all. The revelation can be... intense. The effects echo through the manor's energy."
"Like ripples in a pond," Female Rimuru added, her form shifting slightly toward her more fluid state as she spoke. "When one of us experiences profound transformation, we all feel it to some degree."
Arcueid placed a gentle hand on Akita's arm—a liberty the demon king would normally never allow, but found herself tolerating in her confused state.
"Don't worry," the vampire princess assured her. "It's not a performance. There's no right or wrong way to experience your session. Just... be present for it."
"Be warned though," Ibuki-Douji added with a wicked grin, "whatever sounds you make will likely be heard by half the manor. The walls have a curious way of conducting certain... expressions of release."
Akita felt heat rise to her cheeks—an unfamiliar sensation for a being who had never experienced embarrassment before the previous day.
"I do not make sounds," she stated firmly. "Under any circumstances."
This declaration was met with the most uproarious laughter yet. Even Artoria, typically the most reserved of the goddesses, couldn't suppress a knowing smile.
"I said the same," the once-king of Britain admitted. "Before my first session."
"As did I," added Scáthach from her place near Solarius's empty chair. "Pride goes before the fall, demon king."
Akita looked around the table in growing disbelief. These were beings of immense power—destroyers, creators, rulers of realms—yet they spoke of this upcoming massage as if it were some cosmic initiation that had reduced them all to... to what? Giggling schoolgirls? Willing servants?
"This is absurd," she declared, rising from her seat. "I am Akita, embodiment of the demon king, shaper of realities. I will not be undone by a simple laying on of hands."
To her irritation, her declaration was met not with chastened silence but with more knowing smiles.
"We'll see," Morgan said silkily. "Won't we, sisters?"
Murmurs of agreement rippled around the table, along with expressions that Akita found infuriatingly patronizing. Before she could deliver a properly scathing response, another chime sounded throughout the hall—different from the mealtime signal, deeper and somehow more resonant.
"Ah," said Mitra with a gentle smile. "The session bell. It's time, Akita."
Akita felt a strange flutter in her stomach—not fear, surely, for what had she ever feared?—but something like anticipation mixed with trepidation.
"Where do I...?" she began, then stopped herself, unwilling to display ignorance.
"The east wing," Arcueid supplied, rising alongside her. "The Chamber of Release. I'll show you."
As Akita followed the vampire princess from the dining hall, she was acutely aware of the eyes of fourteen goddesses following her departure—some curious, some envious, all knowing something she did not yet understand.
The walk to the east wing seemed both too long and too short. Arcueid kept pace beside her, respecting her silence until they reached a simple wooden door that seemed oddly mundane compared to the manor's usual grandeur.
"This is where we leave you," Arcueid said, gesturing to the door. "What happens beyond is between you and Solarius alone."
Akita squared her shoulders, calling upon millennia of regal bearing. "I'm not afraid."
Arcueid's smile held genuine warmth. "Of course not. But perhaps, just perhaps, allow yourself to be open to the experience rather than armored against it." She hesitated, then added, "We've all stood where you stand now. All felt what you're feeling. Remember that afterward."
With those cryptic words, she departed, leaving Akita alone before the unassuming door. For a being who had faced the collapse of universes without flinching, she found herself oddly reluctant to knock.
"Ridiculous," she muttered to herself, and raised her hand to the wood.
Before her knuckles could make contact, the door swung open of its own accord, revealing a chamber that defied her expectations. Instead of the opulent spa-like setting she had half-anticipated, the room was almost austere in its simplicity. Warm light from no discernible source illuminated a space dominated by a single massage table draped in fabric that seemed to shift colors subtly as she watched. The walls were bare except for a few simple shelves holding various oils and implements. The air carried a faint scent that reminded her of the oil she had found in her chamber the previous night.
And there, beside the table, stood Solarius, his silver hair caught in the warm light, his robes now a simple gray that somehow contained hints of every color simultaneously. His star-forged eyes met hers with calm welcome.
"Akita," he said, her name in his mouth sounding somehow more significant than it ever had before. "Please, enter."
She stepped inside, feeling the door close behind her of its own accord. The chamber felt... contained, separate from the rest of the manor in some fundamental way.
"This room exists in its own pocket of reality," Solarius explained, as if reading her thoughts. "What happens here remains private, despite what the others may have implied at lunch."
Akita felt a flush of embarrassment at the reminder of the dining hall conversation. "They seem to think I'll be... vocal."
A small smile curved Solarius's lips. "Everyone responds differently. There is no correct reaction." He gestured to the table. "Please, make yourself comfortable. You may disrobe to whatever extent feels appropriate. The binding allows for modesty if that's your preference."
Akita hesitated, uncomfortable with the vulnerability inherent in the situation yet also strangely reluctant to appear fearful by insisting on remaining fully clothed.
"I... I'll remove my outer robe," she decided, slipping off the garment to reveal the simpler shift beneath. It felt like a compromise between defiance and cooperation.
Solarius nodded, accepting her choice without comment. As she settled onto the table, face down, she was surprised to find it perfectly accommodated her form—neither too soft nor too firm, as if designed specifically for her comfort.
"Before we begin," Solarius said, his voice closer now as he stood beside the table, "I want to explain what will happen. My hands work on three levels simultaneously—physical, energetic, and essential. The physical sensation is merely the gateway to deeper work."
"What kind of deeper work?" Akita asked, her voice muffled slightly against the table's face rest.
"Liberation," he replied simply. "Freedom from patterns that no longer serve you. Connection to aspects of yourself long neglected."
She felt his weight settle on a stool beside the table, heard the soft sound of a bottle being opened—the oil from her chamber, she realized by the scent.
"I'm going to begin now," Solarius said softly. "Try to breathe naturally and allow yourself to experience without analysis."
Before Akita could formulate a suitably dismissive response, his hands came to rest lightly on her shoulders, and all coherent thought fled her mind.
Heat and cold, pleasure and pain, creation and destruction—all flowed from his fingertips in perfect balance. Each press and circular motion seemed to locate knots of tension she hadn't known existed in her immortal form. But more than the physical sensation was the spiritual unraveling—thousands of years of anger, power, and isolation being systematically identified and... released.
"How are you—" she gasped, as his thumbs found a particularly sensitive point at the base of her neck.
"Quiet now," Solarius instructed, his voice somehow both gentle and commanding. "Let go of thought. Experience without analysis."
Akita tried to summon anger at being silenced, but it dissolved like mist under his touch. His hands moved lower, working across her shoulder blades, and she felt herself sinking deeper into the table, deeper into surrender.
"You've carried the weight of godhood like armor," Solarius observed as his fingertips traced the edge of her spine. "Protecting yourself from connection by wielding absolute power."
"I need no connection," Akita mumbled, though the words lacked conviction even to her own ears.
"All beings need connection. Even gods. Especially gods." His hands moved in broad, sweeping motions down her back, and she couldn't prevent a small moan from escaping her lips. "The loneliness of divinity is a unique burden. One I understand well."
Something in his tone made her want to turn and look at him, but the exquisite pressure of his hands kept her