The room was drenched in luxury. Plush sofas were placed around low marble tables, which were packed to the brim with stacks of champagne bottles and rich cigars. The entire room was drenched in the warm golden light from antique chandeliers. Thick velvet drapes muffled the world beyond, leaving only the scent of cigar smoke, citrus, and expensive perfume.
Maximilian Vice lounged across a cream-colored sofa while having one arm draped along the backrest and the other resting possessively on Alexandra’s breast. She sat there like a prize, pale skin pressed to him, eyes glossy and empty. Alexandra had once been Nyx’s closest friend, a bright girl with grandiose dreams and a cheery personality that could match even Nyx’s chaos. But now, she was something else entirely: a conquered piece in the collection of a man she hated more than anything.
Around him, the other notable shareholders of ChronosX reclined in a similar fashion. Old men in tailored suits puffed on cigars, as their gold watches glittered in the light, and their rich, predatory laughter echoed off the walls.
One woman, Elise Dupré, dark-haired and angular, rested her hand possessively on a young man slouched at her side; his eyes were hollow, his posture the perfect image of obedience. In a similar fashion to Alexandra’s gaze, each of the playthings around them had the same lifeless, poker-faced look.
Glasses rose. Crystal clinked against crystal.
"To the end of the nuisances!" Anton Krieger bellowed, belly shaking with laughter. "We smoked them before they even had a chance to grow. Just how I like it."
"They thought themselves untouchable," Harold Veyne said, curling a thin hand into the shape of a pistol and mock-firing at the ceiling. "Bang. One story, one smear, and the little upstarts evaporate."
Elise smirked while dragging the young man’s chin up by the jaw. She did so absent-mindedly, having no other reason than ’I can, why not?’ She liked arranging and rearranging beautiful things.
Once she found a new pose for the man to hold, she spoke up. "It’s a part of youth to realize that there’s always a bigger fish. They thought themselves to be sharks when they existed merely because we had better things to do than deal with them."
Her doll’s eyes did not respond.
Scarred across his nose, another shareholder raised his glass at Maximilian. "Vice, surgical as always. Investors are calling for confirmation; they can’t believe how quickly your move worked. The internet is in flames."
He was Lionel Hawke, the fifth and final higher-up of ChronosX. Together, led by Maximilian, these five people called the shots of the world’s most prominent mana camera research organization and by far and large the most successful adult content creators.
Triumph dripped from every corner of the room. Laughter rose in waves. Champagne spilled, cigars glowed, perfumed smoke curled in spirals above their heads.
But the trophies on their laps were silent, unmoving. Their faces were masks, smiles set, eyes devoid of life. Flesh without will.
Hearing their boasts, Alexandra had an even heavier heart than what was usual for her.
’Nyx... I’m afraid I was right... Resisting him is a futile effort.’
Her lashes lowered. Maximilian’s hand continued groping her breasts with his usual lazy motions, oblivious to her thoughts.


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