Gluttony struck her abruptly. Its swollen gut split her barrier, and swallowed her whole.

  “Delicious…” it rumbled, voice thick and guttural. “So… delicious…”

  It could feel the woman futilely kicking and thrashing inside. Not long after, her irritating screams fizzled into bubbling gurgles as powerful peristaltic waves rolled through its stomach, pressing out every last trace of her flavour.

  Delic—huh?

  The expected satisfaction never came.

  The sensation was indescribable. It was too brutally intense to be pure pleasure, too viciously sweet to be pain. This was…

  Mesmerising.

  The taste felt decadent and familiar, triggering faint echoes of the past. Sweet like vanilla. Detonate like cotton candy, flooding its vision with vibrant colours. Its stomach spasmed helplessly again and again. One more drop. One more.

  What is this intoxicating essence?

  Nevertheless, Gluttony was ecstatic. It had outwitted the witch, silenced the sigil and ended her boasting without so much as an effort. Weakling. This was only the first course. Once the binding spell broke, endless mana-rich feasts would follow.

  Power!

  Gluttony would climb from lowest Sin to something grander. Envy would seethe. Maybe even Pride… hmm, maybe not.

  Pride was a little intense.

  But certainly above Sloth, who held no ambition of its own.

  Gluttony’s monstrous form trembled at that thought, pleasure battling with a rising, disorienting lightheadedness. It was drowning in a sea of impossible bliss.

  Click.

  The sound so jarring it cut through Gluttony’s high. The sound of gears turning, grinding, clinking.

  The… sigil? Impossible! This couldn't be happening.

  Red light flared in the dark, shattering Gluttony’s dream. Ecstasy vanished like blown candle smoke.

  Too fast. It wanted, no, NEEDED more!

  Not enough.

  This girl wasn't enough!

  “Not ENOUGH!!!” Gluttony roared. Its muscled walls bloated, threatening to burst under the pressure of vast hunger. The witch’s magic was gone… and left it emptier, hungrier than before.

  Why? Why was this happening? Why was it still SO HUNGRY? This should have lasted longer. It shouldn't feel so... lost.

  Escape! It had to escape!

  “Why can’t I leave?”

  A fleeting pleasure, swiftly overridden by tenfold the pain, then repeated, and repeated. Just what kind of monster inflicted torture like this?

  Red light brightened, shoving distant memories back into Gluttony’s corporeal mind.

  Ever since its senses came to be, it could only remember its name. And a vague memory of freedom, of wind whistling through… fur?

  It looked down and saw… paws. Saw itself running on all fours across lavender fields under a sky of perpetual grey. But in the muted haze, a pair of golden eyes curved into a dazzling smile.

  It had never been free.

  It had a master.

  It had belonged to the prey it just devoured.

  Pain ripped through its gut. Gluttony realised its stomach had lain sliced open, probably for some time.

  The truth shattered not only Gluttony’s flesh, but the very idea of it. Its form burst apart into a wisp of violet mist.

  A melodic voice drifted through the haze, not from before, but from the present. “There you are. Feeling overstimulated?”

  The slim figure in green stepped closer, hands tucked behind her back.

  “Did you plan all this?” Gluttony rasped.

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  “Gluttony, Gluttony,” she purred, “nobody taught you not to snack without permission? Especially when the snack bites back.”

  For once, hunger wasn’t the strongest thing Gluttony felt. It was fear.

  “I-I didn’t know… She warned me. Said there were traps hidden in the flesh. But the hunger… it’s always too loud.”

  “She?” Her head tilted. “Who is this she?”

  She… Gluttony realised how familiar her voice was, how familiar she looked.

  The prey it believed devoured, the master it had just remembered, the Queen of Shadows.

  H-Her Majesty?

  “It was you…” Gluttony’s voice shrank to a pathetic whimper. “…You told me!”

  Eydis pushed off the freezer wall gracefully. Only the thin red cut across her palm proved she had fought at all.

  "Every lure needs a tempting bait, you knew that," she said kindly. Her bloody fingers described a circle in the rolling smoke. "But a fool is a fool all the same. A slave to its own hunger."

  The violet cloud trembled. That flavour of ambrosia and ashes reached its senses again, only to vanished too quickly, leaving a frostbitten ache.

  I… remember.

  Her mana, entangled with her blood, was a dangerous temptation. When she slashed through its membrane, it had been a strategic offering of both power and lifeblood.

  Everything else — the shattered barrier, the swallowing — had been illusions painted across its mind. A fevered dream.

  Eydis breathed a quiet spell. Violet mist wrapped her hand, hardened, towered.

  Gluttony looked down, and saw paws. Its three obsidian heads scraped the ceiling, eyes gleaming like furnaces.

  “Cerberus,” she reminded. “Remember that’s your name? You’ve been forgetting your manners.”

  The creature whimpered and shrank until its shoulders met her waist, all three muzzles nuzzling her palm.

  “Forgive me, My Queen. To consume your essence without permission… how blasphemous of me.”

  Ice flickered behind her smile. You see, the Queen of Shadows didn't just cultivate any mana. Her darkness wasn't just any darkness. It tempted, it maddened, it hooked. Fleeting, oh, so very fleeting.

  And a single drop of her blood pulled the Sin to the edge of bliss, only to push them into longing.

  Binding these primal Sins wasn’t as simple as drawing chalk circles on the floor; any fool could try that, until the Sin devoured them whole. Real control was a melody of almost, repeated forever.

  Envy, the serpent of jealousy, eternally writhed in unquenchable desire. Just a glance from her or a crumb of validation was enough to keep it chained and obedient.

  Cerberus was worse. A taste of her presence hit like a drug, leaving it shaking, drooling, needing more. It was raw and ugly need, a leash made from the bones of its own craving.

  But such was the price of wielding the power of primal evils. How na?ve to think that simple spells, binding incantations, or lucky artefacts were the only barriers between the world and these primal evils.

  Freedom? Eydis’s lips curled into a humourless smile. Maybe none of them had it. Not the Sins. Not their Queen. All of them locked in cages they built themselves, shackled by wants they couldn’t outrun.

  “So eager to devour me, were you, Cerberus?” she said, just as Envy’s telepathic warning reached her mind: Astra approaches.

  She smiled faintly. “…But this time, the pleasure is mine. Still, a three-headed hound is a bit loud, isn’t it? Let us soften the bark.”

  The creature’s three heads turned toward her, blinking in confusion.

  “How about a Doberman?” Eydis’s smile widened.

  The hulking hell-hound form blurred and shrank down into a sleek black Doberman, amber eyes wide. Then it leaped toward her. In a flash, its jaws snapped shut. The world around Eydis was consumed by darkness.

  ‘As you command, Your Majesty!’

  The Doberman’s amber eyes flickered gold for an instant, adopting an elegant, almost regal posture. As the door to the dining hall groaned open, it slipped seamlessly into…

  the shadows.

  Warrungal Ranges overlooked the whole glittering bowl of Alchymia. Mansions climbed the slopes, all angled to watch the city’s lights. The location was close enough to admire the artificial stars, far enough that the noise fell away into the valley.

  Down in the true heart of the city, the workers lived. Narrow towers, walls thin as paper, rooms so cramped that kitchens were a rare luxury.

  Up here, this was privilege. Here, power slept.

  Moonlight cut through the wrought-iron window, striping the king-size bed, striping Tiffany Blackwood’s unmoving form. Thomas Blackwood lowered himself into the chair at her side. His hand trembled as it covered hers. He tried to speak, but the breath caught.

  Flashes burst. Lenses blinked. Shutters cycled rapidly.

  Thomas blinked away his tears. “Tiffany, sweetheart… why?”

  She lay still, eyes wide and soulless. The press edged closer, angling for a cleaner shot of her face.

  “Sir, your thoughts on Senator Blackwood’s communal reform proposal?”

  “Any words for those keeping vigil in prayer for Tiffany tonight?”

  “Is the duel footage genuine or doctored?”

  “Does Tiffany have ties to the Eye? There are circulating consp—“

  Thomas snatched the microphone away. “My daughter wouldn’t touch that filth. Now leave!”

  He gestured for his bodyguards to lead the press away. The crowd slowly dispersed, returning the room to its silence.

  The white door creaked open again.

  Thomas snapped. “Didn’t I say—“

  Noah stepped in, slow-clapping. “A beautiful act, brother. Almost had me fooled. One might think you actually care.”

  “Why are you here?”

  “I live nearby. Have you already forgotten?”

  “What do you want, Noah?”

  Noah set a hand on Thomas’s shoulder. The touch was unnervingly cold even through his wool suits.

  “Just curious, Tommy. You’ve taken quite the interest in that Senate seat lately. The ‘devoted father at his daughter’s bedside’ is a striking image. Very strategic.”

  “I am saving my child. Your niece. Now, leave,” Thomas replied coldly.

  “Of course, of course. Keep the act going. But we both know she takes after you, theatrical, always vying for validation.” Noah leaned in, emerald eyes cruel. “Never enough.”

  Before Thomas could answer, Noah stepped back and was already heading for the door.

  “Good night, brother.”

  As his footsteps faded along the hall, the room darkened. Partly because the butler had turned off the lights. Mostly because another presence was settling in.

  A violet tendril curled around Thomas’s fingertips. He let out a shaky sigh. It wasn’t grief, that performance had been convincing. This feeling was hate.

  ‘Can I kill him?’

  The answer arrived heavily, a weight pressing down on him until his knees gave way. A whisper from nowhere and everywhere echoed through his bones.

  "No. Not yet. However…”

  The pressure lifted.

  “…I am a little intrigued by that boy. The one who dared to…”

  The voice lowered.

  “…tamper with my will.”

  Thomas swallowed. "You mean… the one at St Kevin's?"

  “Yes. The one with the power in his golden eyes… How nostalgic. How… delicious. And I want him.”