Kleia stood before the starship's observation deck, gazing into the cosmic rift known as the "Stasis Field."
It was no ordinary space. Like a wound that never healed, it stretched black and deep, yet constantly oozed light and whispers—she could hear them. Ever since the night of their "link," a low-frequency call had echoed in her mind, as if the entire universe's heartbeat resonated with her own.
"You're listening to it," Zelyon said from behind her, his tone certain. "The Mirror has chosen you as its passage. You are its 'sensory projection,' and I... am its executor."
"Do you know what it is?" She turned to face him, her eyes no longer panicked as they'd been at their first meeting, but cool with a dangerous edge. "That being... isn't a god. It's a will parasite. It didn't choose me—it's infecting me."
Zelyon was silent for a moment, then nodded. "True enough. But the line between parasitism and fusion is a matter of voluntary will. And you're already responding to it actively."
"Because you manipulated me." She countered.
"I awakened you." He stepped closer, his fingers tracing her neck. "You just won't admit you've craved this—being completely controlled, completely released—from the start."
Kleia clenched her teeth but didn't push him away. She knew he spoke the truth. The body was honest, and her desire never ceased.
Zelyon's hand moved to her chest, gently kneading her nipple—tender yet insistent. She sucked in a breath, still not pulling back.
"Remember the visions you saw during your orgasm last night?" He whispered in her ear, his voice burning. "Not hallucinations. That's your nascent ability to perceive astral divinity projections. When you fully accept it, we'll enter the 'fusion phase'—become a complete 'Mirrorbound Entity.'"
"I won't let you control me completely." Her voice trembled, but the pleasure of struggle betrayed her.
"But you'll crave me until you hate yourself for being unable to leave."
As he spoke, he 猛地 pressed her against the observation deck's transparent wall, wrapping his arms around her from behind. His palm swiftly slid between her legs. Kleia cried out, only to have her moan swallowed by his tongue. The cabin temperature rose; her hips pressed against his waist, quickly teased to wetness.
"Zelyon... no, here—"
"Sealed space. No recorders." He chuckled. "And you love being fucked into oblivion amid danger and shame, don't you?"
She gave a humiliated whimper, unable to distinguish between refusal and longing.
The next second, he pinned her to the observation window, forcefully entering her. In that moment, Kleia felt hollowed out by the starsea again. Her moans rose in pitch with each powerful thrust, the wetness between her legs proving her submission.
As he thrusted, he bit her neck, leaving a searing mark.
"You belong to me and to the Mirror." He said. "I'll make you so addicted you'll kneel and beg me to continue."
Kleia bit her lip, tears in her eyes, but no longer uttered a "no."
The orgasm swallowed her like a black hole, and simultaneously—The astral plane opened again.
A will injected directly into her nervous system through her mind, and she saw—
Countless versions of herself, dressed in different eras, moaning, struggling, climaxing in various warships, palaces, and labs... but in every vision, Zelyon's face stood beside her.
"You are fated to be bound."
"Every life he claims you, every time you resist... and submit in the end."
She opened her eyes in horror, gasping for air.
Zelyon also stilled, murmuring: "You're seeing 'retrospective projections.' That means our binding nears completion."
"What is this... a cycle? A 星际剧本?"
"Perhaps both." He held her in his arms, slowly withdrawing from her. "But understand this, Kleia—this isn't something you can escape. Your existence... was ordained long before your birth."
Later, she lay in Zelyon's cabin, covered only by a thin blanket.
When the door opened again, Ishta stood in the doorway, her eyes no longer cold with scientific detachment but burning with... possessive jealousy.
"She's becoming unstable," Ishta said, looking at Zelyon. "The intensity you gave her is too high—it'll cause interface emotional inflation."
"She can handle it." He said flatly. "She's different from any synchronizer we've had before."
Ishta approached, her hand resting on Kleia's naked shoulder. "You won't be the only one, darling. He's made many girls like you into 'connectors.' And I was the first."
Kleia's eyes widened: "You were also his—"
"The first link experiment subject." Ishta sneered. "He taught me to obey, to surrender myself in orgasm... until I loved the feeling."
Zelyon said nothing, merely watching Kleia's reaction.
She suddenly understood—this wasn't a simple control game. It was a matrix of polyamorous connections.
And she was caught in its web.
She began to see that she was being tested by the "astral plane," not just in body but in a temptation of consciousness and self.
But she also knew she wasn't Ishta. She wouldn't settle for being a "data sample" or a "climax recorder."
She would fight back. But not yet.
She needed to delve deeper, get closer, fall further... until she learned to destroy this entire linking system.
Starting with Zelyon.