Cú shrugged. The motion carried absolutely no concern for the chaos his words had unleashed.
"If that's what it takes, then yeah. Go for it."
Griswald's brain short-circuited. Beside him, Mash made a sound like a wounded animal. Olga's jaw had dropped open in a rare display of genuine shock. Even Ritsuka—who'd been the one to shout—seemed stunned by the Caster's casual confirmation.
"Technically speaking," Cú continued, utterly oblivious to the collective mortification radiating from his audience, "it would work if she just got the semen inside her somehow." He scratched his chin thoughtfully with the end of his staff. "But the womb would be optimal. Maximum absorption surface area. The magical energy disperses more efficiently when the body recognizes it as something meant to be retained."
Please stop talking. Please, please stop talking.
Griswald's prayer went unanswered.
"Think of it like watering a plant." The Caster gestured vaguely. "You could spray water on the leaves and some would soak in eventually. Or you could pour it directly on the roots where it belongs. Same principle. Different efficiency rates."
Mash's face had progressed beyond red into something approaching purple. Her violet eyes were fixed on a spot of rubble approximately three feet to Griswald's left with the intensity of someone trying to will themselves out of existence.
Griswald opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.
Nothing came out.
His mind kept cycling through the same impossible loop. He wants us to—Mash would have to—I would need to—
The practical implications crashed against the raw impossibility of the suggestion. Twenty minutes ago, he'd experienced his first kiss. Now a legendary hero was explaining reproductive anatomy like a particularly blunt biology instructor.
Cú glanced between them. His brow furrowed slightly at their continued silence.
"Look, I know you modern types get weird about this stuff." He waved dismissively. "But it's just pre-battle sex. Nothing to be embarrassed about."
Just battle sex.
The phrase hung in the air like something obscene.
"It happens all the time in warfare. Back in my day, warriors would bed each other before combat. Thinking they might die. Made perfect sense." Cú's tone suggested he genuinely didn't understand why everyone looked like they wanted the earth to swallow them whole. "Its really not that big of a deal."
"It IS a big deal!"
Olga's voice cracked on the last word. Her face had flushed a deep crimson that extended down her neck and disappeared beneath her collar. The aristocratic composure she'd maintained throughout their entire ordeal had finally shattered completely.
"This isn't—you can't just—" She gestured frantically at Griswald and Mash. "They're barely adults! They just had their first kiss ten minutes ago! You can't seriously expect them to—to—"
Her voice failed her before she could finish the sentence.
Cú blinked at her outburst. Something like confusion flickered across his features.
"Age has nothing to do with it. When I was fourteen, I'd already—"
"WE DON'T NEED TO HEAR THAT."
Olga's shriek echoed off the ruined buildings. A distant skeleton probably heard it. Possibly Archer heard it. Griswald couldn't bring himself to care.
Ritsuka had her face buried in her hands. Her shoulders shook with what might have been suppressed laughter or genuine horror. Possibly both.
Mash still hadn't moved. Still hadn't spoken. Her breathing came in short, controlled bursts that suggested she was actively preventing herself from hyperventilating.
Griswald risked a glance at her.
She caught him looking.
Their eyes met for exactly half a second before they both jerked their gazes away so fast it probably caused whiplash.
This can't be happening. This absolutely cannot be happening.
But it was. The ruined city stretched around them. The red sky burned overhead. And somewhere out there, a corrupted Archer waited to put an arrow through his skull.
Unless they did... that.
"Listen." Cú's voice had gentled slightly. Almost understanding. "I get that this is uncomfortable. Your era carries all manner of hang ups around doing it that simply weren't present when I walked the earth." He leaned on his staff, regarding them with something approaching patience. "But we're at war. Humanity's seems to be extinct in this timeline. Your organization is in ruins. And we've got exactly one shot at fixing any of it."
The words landed with uncomfortable weight.
"Your Shielder—" He nodded toward Mash. "—is your best weapon. Your only real weapon, honestly. And she's running on fumes because your circuits can't feed her properly through passive absorption." Red eyes fixed on Griswald. "You want her at full strength when that trap springs. You want every possible advantage. Because if this fails, everyone dies."
Griswald swallowed hard.
The logic was sound. Horrifyingly, undeniably sound.
He looked at Mash again. This time she didn't look away. Her face still burned crimson, but something else had crept into her expression. Determination, maybe. Or resignation.
"Master."
Her voice came out barely above a whisper.
"If it's necessary for the mission..." She trailed off, unable to complete the thought.
Griswald's heart hammered against his ribs. His throat felt like sandpaper.
"We don't have to decide right now." The words tumbled out faster than he intended. "There's still time before we execute the plan. We could—I mean, maybe there's another—"
"There isn't." Cú cut him off without malice. "Not one that gives her full reserves. Not with your limitations."
Silence descended again.
Olga looked like she wanted to object further but couldn't find the words. Ritsuka had lowered her hands, watching the exchange with wide eyes.
And Mash...
Mash was looking at him. Waiting. The decision, ultimately, rested with him.
Her Master.
Griswald looked at Mash. Really looked at her.
The crimson flush still painted her cheeks. Her violet eyes held that same waiting expression—patient, trusting, ready to accept whatever he decided. Because he was her Master. Because the mission demanded it. Because she'd been engineered from birth to serve a purpose she never chose.
She's waiting for me to tell her what to do.
The realization hit him like a physical blow.
He thought back to everything he'd learned since arriving in this hellscape. The way she'd called herself a Demi-Servant. Created for an experiment. Designer Baby. Genetically engineered to be a compatible vessel. A spirit bound to her at her creation. He did know everything about her. About what she went through.
But he knew enough.
Mash Kyrielight had never really gotten a choice. Not about being created. Not about being fused with a Heroic Spirit. Not about any of it.
And now here she stood, offering to let him—
No.
The word crystallized in his mind with surprising clarity.
"I won't do it."
Cú's eyebrow rose. "Come again?"
"I said no." Griswald's voice came out steadier than he expected. "I'm not going to force her into... that... just because it seems like the only way."
Mash's eyes widened. "Master, I—"
"You trust me." He cut her off gently. "You're my Servant. You'd do it if I asked. And that's exactly why I can't ask."
Something flickered across her face. Confusion, maybe. Or something softer that he couldn't quite name.
Cú stared at him for a long moment. Then he laughed—a short, sharp sound that held no humor.
"You really are a shitty mage."
The words should have stung. They didn't. Not anymore.
"Most mages would do anything for victory," Cú continued, shaking his head slowly. "They see Servants as tools. Weapons to be used and discarded. Resources to be optimized." His red eyes bore into Griswald's. "You're telling me you'd rather risk the entire plan than treat her like what she technically is?"
"Yes."
"Even knowing what's at stake?"
"Yes."
Cú's expression shifted.
"You know you suck, right? As a mage, I mean. Your circuits are pathetic. Your magical knowledge is barely adequate. And your combat abilities are essentially nonexistent."
Griswald almost smiled. "I'm aware. You're not the first person to tell me I suck. Won't be the last, either."
His family had made that abundantly clear. His tutors. The Clock Tower admissions boards. Every rejection letter gathering dust in his quarters back at Chaldea. He'd heard every variation of "inadequate" and "disappointing" that existed in the human language.
One more didn't change anything.
Cú studied him for another moment. Then something shifted in his posture. The mocking edge softened into something almost approving.
"Well. Look at that." He tapped his staff against the rubble thoughtfully. "The shit mage grew a spine."
Griswald blinked. "I... what?"
"Don't let it go to your head. You're still pathetic." But Cú's tone had lost its bite. "So what's your plan, then? Walk into that trap with Mash running on empty? Hope for the best?"
The question deflated him somewhat. His newfound resolve crashed against the practical reality of their situation.
What am I going to do?
He'd refused the most efficient option. Noble, maybe. Principled, certainly. But it didn't solve their actual problem. Mash still needed mana. The plan still required her at full strength. And his worthless circuits still couldn't provide what she needed through normal means.
The wind left his sails completely.
"I... don't know yet," he admitted. "But there has to be another way. Something that doesn't—"
"Um."
Ritsuka's voice cut through his floundering. Everyone turned to look at her.
She'd lowered her hands from her face at some point. Her expression had shifted from mortified to thoughtful—the look of someone working through a particularly complex puzzle.
"So," she began, her cheeks still pink but her voice surprisingly steady, "while it might not be as much as... you know... finishing inside her..."
Griswald felt his face heat up again.
"...if Mash just swallowed it instead, she'd still absorb a significant amount of magical energy, right?"
Dead silence.
Cú tilted his head, considering. "Go on."
Ritsuka's blush deepened, but she pressed forward with determined pragmatism. "I mean, the digestive system still processes magical energy. It's less efficient than the... other method... but it's not nothing." She glanced at Griswald, then quickly away. "So if he just... produced enough... multiple times, maybe... that could compensate for the reduced absorption rate?"
Mash made a strangled sound.
Olga looked like she wanted to sink into the rubble and never emerge.
Griswald's brain had stopped functioning entirely.
She's suggesting that Mash should—that I would need to—multiple times—
Cú scratched his chin, apparently immune to the mortification radiating from everyone else present.
"Huh. That's actually not terrible logic." He turned to Griswald with renewed interest. "How's your recovery time?"
"My what?"
"Your refractory period. How quickly can you—"
"I am NOT answering that!"
Ritsuka's amber eyes lit up with sudden realization.
"Wait. Hold on." She held up a hand, cutting through the chaos of embarrassment and outrage. "Griswald, when you were healing me earlier—back when we first found each other—you said something about your magecraft."
Griswald blinked at her, grateful for any change of subject. "I did?"
"You mentioned that one of the useful aspects was that you could refill bodily fluids." She gestured at the bandages still wrapped around her arm from where she'd been injured. "That's how you stabilized me so quickly, right? You weren't just closing the wounds—you were replacing the blood I'd lost."
The memory surfaced through the fog of mortification clouding his thoughts. The ruined store. Ritsuka bleeding out. His hands glowing faintly as he worked to—
Oh.
Oh no.
He saw exactly where this was going.
"So..." Ritsuka's voice carried a hint of vindictive amusement now. Payback, perhaps, for all the awkwardness she'd been forced to witness. "If you can refill blood, and blood is a bodily fluid, then theoretically..."
She let the sentence hang there. Unfinished. Damning.
Every eye turned to Griswald.
His mouth opened. Closed. His brain frantically ran through the magical theory, desperate to find a flaw in her logic. Some technical limitation that would render the idea impossible.
Blood is produced by bone marrow. Semen is produced by the testes. Both are bodily fluids. Both require specific biological processes to generate. My magecraft works by accelerating and supplementing those natural processes...
The math checked out.
Horrifyingly, undeniably checked out.
"I..." His voice came out strangled. "I've never actually... tried..."
"But theoretically?" Ritsuka pressed, her expression caught somewhere between scientific curiosity and wicked delight.
Griswald's face burned. His ears burned. His entire body felt like it might spontaneously combust from sheer embarrassment.
"...theoretically... yes. It should... work."
The word fell into the silence like a stone into still water.
Mash's hands flew to her face, covering everything below her eyes. The visible portion of her skin had achieved a shade of red that probably wasn't medically healthy.
Olga's reaction was more... vocal.
"YOU ABSOLUTE PERVERT!"
Her shriek echoed across the ruined landscape. Birds that had somehow survived the apocalypse scattered from distant rooftops.
"Using magecraft for—for THAT!" She jabbed a finger at Griswald, her aristocratic composure completely demolished. "This is exactly what I'd expect from a third-rate mage with no proper training! Applying the noble art of healing magic to—to—"
Words failed her. Her face had flushed so deeply that it nearly matched her crimson eyes. She looked like she might actually have a stroke.
"I cannot BELIEVE I allowed someone like you into Chaldea! The Animusphere family has maintained standards of magical excellence for generations, and now—now I have to stand here and listen to discussions about—about SEMEN PRODUCTION through MAGECRAFT!"
Griswald wanted to point out that he hadn't been the one to bring it up. That Ritsuka had connected the dots. That he'd never once considered using his abilities for anything remotely like this.
But Olga wasn't finished.
"The absolute DEGRADATION of the mystical arts! My father would be SPINNING in his grave if he could hear this conversation! Magecraft is meant to approach the Root, to unravel the mysteries of existence, to achieve what ordinary humans cannot—NOT to facilitate DEPRAVED BEDROOM ACTIVITIES!"
Cú let out a long, low whistle.
"Gotta say, kid." He nodded approvingly at Griswald. "That's actually a better use of magecraft than about ninety percent of mages put it to."
Olga's tirade stuttered to a halt. She turned toward the Caster with an expression of pure, unadulterated outrage.
"I beg your PARDON?"
"I mean it." Cú leaned on his staff, utterly unperturbed by her fury. A sly grin tugged at his lips. "Most mages I've encountered spend their entire lives trying to turn lead into gold, or extend their lifespans by a few measly decades, or prove they're better than some rival family they've been feuding with for centuries." He shrugged lazily. "At least this has practical applications."
"PRACTICAL APPLICATIONS?!"
Olga looked ready to physically assault him. Her fists clenched at her sides. Her entire body trembled with barely contained rage.
"The noble pursuit of magecraft represents humanity's highest aspirations! The great mages of history dedicated their lives to understanding the fundamental nature of reality itself! They sacrificed EVERYTHING—their wealth, their families, their very humanity—in pursuit of knowledge that transcends mortal comprehension!"
She drew herself up to her full height, channeling every ounce of aristocratic authority she possessed.
"The Animusphere family has produced some of the greatest astronomers and astromancers in magical history! My ancestors mapped the movements of celestial bodies to predict the future! They developed theories of soul transference that revolutionized our understanding of consciousness! They contributed to the very foundations upon which Chaldea was BUILT!"
Cú had stopped paying attention somewhere around "fundamental nature."
"Troublesome woman," he muttered under his breath, examining his fingernails with exaggerated interest.
"—and you stand there MOCKING the legacy of countless generations who gave their LIVES in service to—are you even LISTENING to me?!"
"Hmm?" Cú glanced up with obviously feigned surprise. "Sorry, were you still talking? I got distracted around 'noble pursuits.' Heard that speech about a thousand times back in my day. Never got more interesting."
Olga made a sound like a teakettle reaching boiling point.
Griswald seized the momentary distraction to edge closer to Mash, who still hadn't lowered her hands from her face.
"Are you... okay?" he whispered.
Her violet eyes peeked at him between her fingers. The flush hadn't faded even slightly.
"I'm processing," she whispered back.
Olga's voice rose another octave behind them, something about "the fundamental principles of thaumaturgical ethics" and "complete disregard for centuries of established protocol." Cú responded with what sounded like an exaggerated yawn.
Griswald barely registered any of it.
He stood there, inches from Mash, watching her peek at him through her fingers. The apocalyptic red sky cast strange shadows across her face. Distant fires crackled somewhere in the ruined city. And he had absolutely no idea what to say.
So he said the only thing that came to mind.
"I'm sorry."
Mash's hands lowered slightly. Confusion replaced some of the embarrassment in her expression.
"Sorry?" She tilted her head, violet eyes searching his face. "Master, what are you apologizing for?"
Griswald opened his mouth. Closed it. Thought about the question for a moment.
"I don't know," he admitted honestly. "But I still think you deserve one."
Something flickered in Mash's eyes. Something soft and fragile that made his chest tighten.
"You don't need to apologize to me." Her hands dropped fully from her face now, though the flush remained. "You haven't done anything wrong. If anyone should be apologizing, it's me."
"You? Why would you—"
"Because I'm the one putting you in this position." Her voice carried an edge of genuine distress now. The determined composure she'd maintained throughout their ordeal cracked slightly. "If I was stronger. If I had better control over my Servant abilities. If I could fight without draining so much mana..."
She trailed off, shoulders slumping.
"Then you wouldn't be forced to give me your..." She couldn't finish the sentence. Her gaze dropped to the rubble at their feet. "...your seed."
That word hung between them as Griswald watched her fold inward on herself. Watched the guilt settle across her features like a familiar weight. He recognized that posture. That expression. He'd worn both often enough himself.
She thinks she's a burden.
The realization sparked something in his chest. Indignation, maybe. Or protective anger. He wasn't sure which.
"You're plenty strong."
Mash looked up, startled by the firmness in his voice.
"You saved my life. Multiple times in the last hour alone." He gestured vaguely at the destroyed buildings around them. "That Servant with the chains would have killed me if you hadn't blocked her attack. The skeletons would have overwhelmed us without your shield. You've been fighting constantly since we arrived here, and you're still standing."
"But my mana consumption—"
"Is my problem." He cut her off before she could spiral further into self-blame. "I'm your Master. Providing mana is literally my job. The fact that I'm bad at it doesn't make you weak. It makes me..."
He paused, searching for the right word.
"...inadequate."
The admission should have stung. It didn't. He'd made peace with his limitations long ago.
"And besides." The next words tumbled out before his brain could stop them. "It's not like I'd be forced to give you my seed."
Silence.
Absolute, ringing silence.
Griswald's brain caught up with his mouth approximately two seconds too late.
What did I just say.
Mash's eyes went wide. Her flush, which had started to fade, returned with a vengeance. It spread down her neck and disappeared beneath her collar.
Why did I say that. Why would I say that. What possible reason could I have for—
The implications of his words crashed over him like a wave.
Not forced. Implying he would do it willingly. Implying he wanted to—
"I didn't mean—" His voice cracked embarrassingly. "That came out wrong. I was trying to say that it wouldn't be—I mean, you're not forcing me to—it's not like I object to—"
He was making it worse. Every word made it exponentially worse.
Mash's mouth opened and closed soundlessly. Her hands had returned to her face, covering everything below her eyes again. But this time, something else flickered in her violet gaze.
"You really are bad at this."
Cú's voice cut through the moment like a blade. Both Griswald and Mash jumped, having apparently forgotten they weren't alone.
The Caster stood a few feet away, arms crossed, watching them with an expression caught between amusement and exasperation. Olga had apparently exhausted herself mid-rant and now stood beside Ritsuka, face buried in her hands.
"Like, impressively bad," Cú continued, shaking his head slowly. "I've seen virgin priestesses with more romantic competence. And they were sworn to chastity."
Ritsuka nodded in solemn agreement. "It's actually kind of painful to watch."
"You're both terrible people," Griswald muttered.
Mash took a deep breath. Then another. Her hands lowered from her face with visible effort.
When she spoke, her voice carried a determination that surprised everyone present.
"I'll do it."
Griswald's heart stuttered.
"With Master." She turned to face him fully, meeting his eyes despite the crimson still staining her cheeks. "I'll... perform the mana transfer. The... the oral method."
The words came out stilted. Formal. Like she was accepting a mission briefing rather than agreeing to...
Don't think about it. Don't think about what she's agreeing to.
"Are you sure?" The question left his lips before he could consider whether he should be talking her out of this. "You don't have to—"
"I want to."
Three words. Simple. Direct.
They hit him like a physical blow.
"I mean—" Mash's voice softened suddenly, losing its determined edge. Vulnerability crept into her expression. "I never expected to get the chance to do something like this. With anyone."
She looked down at her armored hands. At the shield still strapped to her arm.
"I was created for a purpose. Engineered. My whole life has been tests and experiments and waiting to fulfill a function I didn't choose." A small, sad smile tugged at her lips. "Romance was never... I never thought..."
She trailed off, unable to finish.
Griswald understood. More than she probably realized.
Eighteen years of life with an expiration date. Raised in a facility. Poked and prodded by scientists. Waiting for a fusion that might never work. What room did that leave for normal experiences? For first kisses and awkward dates and all the mundane things other people took for granted?
She's never had any of it.
Neither had he, really. Not for the same reasons. But the loneliness was familiar enough.
"The thing is..." Mash's voice dropped to barely a whisper. "I have no idea how."
Cú turned toward Ritsuka and Olga with the casual air of someone discussing dinner plans rather than sexual instruction.
"So." He jerked his thumb toward Mash. "Which one of you wants to show her how it's done?"
The question landed like a grenade.
Olga's face cycled through several shades of red before settling on something approaching purple. Her mouth opened and closed twice before words finally emerged.
"What do you take me for?!" Her voice pitched upward into a register that probably startled wildlife three blocks away. "I have never—I would never—the very suggestion that I would have any experience with such—such depraved activities is an insult to the Animusphere name!"
She drew herself up to her full height, chin lifted with wounded aristocratic pride.
"I am the Director of Chaldea! A mage of noble lineage! My family has maintained standards of dignity and propriety for generations! We do not engage in—in—"
She couldn't even finish the sentence. Her hands fluttered helplessly at her sides.
Cú's expression shifted into something insufferably knowing.
"Ah." He nodded slowly, stroking his chin. "That explains a lot, actually."
Olga's eyes narrowed dangerously. "What exactly is that supposed to mean?"
"The attitude. The constant shrieking." He gestured vaguely at her rigid posture. "The stick shoved so far up your—"
"HOW DARE YOU!"
Olga looked ready to spontaneously combust. Her fists clenched at her sides. A vein pulsed visibly at her temple.
But Cú had already turned away, dismissing her outrage as easily as swatting a fly. His attention shifted to Ritsuka with raised eyebrows.
"What about you, then?"
Ritsuka's amber eyes widened slightly. The flush that had faded during Olga's tirade returned to her cheeks. She shifted her weight from foot to foot, clearly uncomfortable being the sudden center of attention.
Behind her, Olga continued to sputter indignantly about family honor and appropriate conduct and something about filing formal complaints with magical regulatory bodies that probably didn't exist anymore.
Ritsuka sighed.
It was a long, weary sound. The sound of someone who had accepted that the universe enjoyed making her life as awkward as possible.
"Fine." She ran a hand through her orange-red hair, pushing it back from her face. "I can... show her. The basics, at least."
Griswald's brain struggled to process what he was hearing. Ritsuka was offering to—she was going to demonstrate how to—
Don't think about it. Don't think about it. Don't—
"Come on." Ritsuka beckoned to him and Mash with a resigned wave. "Let's find somewhere with a bit more privacy. I'd rather not have an audience for this."
She shot a pointed look at Olga, who was once again ranting about centuries of magical tradition and the sanctity of noble bloodlines.
Mash glanced at Griswald. Her face had achieved a new depth of crimson that he hadn't thought physiologically possible. But she nodded once, firmly, and fell into step behind Ritsuka as the other girl picked her way through the rubble.
Griswald followed on autopilot. His legs moved without conscious input from his brain, which had essentially shut down in self-defense.
This is happening. This is actually happening.
Behind them, Cú's voice carried across the ruined street with infuriating cheerfulness.
"Oi, Director."
The title stopped Olga's tirade mid-syllable.
"What." The word came out clipped. Venomous.
"You sure you don't want to tag along?" Cú's smirk was audible even without looking. "Seeing as you've got no experience yourself, might be educational. Pick up a few pointers for the future."
The explosion of outrage that followed was truly magnificent.
"YOU INSUFFERABLE—ARROGANT—PRIMITIVE—"
Each word hit a higher pitch than the last. Griswald was fairly certain dogs in neighboring dimensions could hear her now.
"—THINK YOU CAN SPEAK TO ME THAT WAY—ABSOLUTE DISREGARD FOR BASIC HUMAN DECENCY—"
Ritsuka picked up the pace, ducking around a partially collapsed building. Mash hurried after her, shield clanking softly against her armor. Griswald followed, grateful for any excuse to put distance between himself and the chaos erupting behind them.
"—WHEN I GET BACK TO CHALDEA I WILL PERSONALLY ENSURE THAT YOUR SAINT GRAPH IS—"
The building's bulk cut off the rest of Olga's threats. The silence that followed felt almost physical. A tangible weight lifting from Griswald's shoulders.
Ritsuka leaned against a crumbling wall, exhaling slowly.
"She's really something, isn't she?"
"That's one word for it," Griswald managed.
Mash stood a few feet away, hands clasped in front of her. Her posture had gone rigid again. The determined expression she'd worn while agreeing to this had given way to something more vulnerable. More uncertain.
She's scared.
The realization cut through Griswald's own embarrassment. Whatever anxiety he felt, Mash was facing the same situation with even less context. At least he understood the mechanics involved. She'd admitted she had no idea how any of this worked.
Because she was never supposed to need to know.
Ritsuka pushed off from the wall, squaring her shoulders like someone preparing for an unpleasant but necessary task.
"Okay." She turned to face them both, cheeks still pink but expression businesslike. "So. The basics."
Griswald's mouth went dry.
This is really happening.
Ritsuka studied Griswald for a long moment, amber eyes tracking down his lanky frame with clinical assessment.
"Right. So first problem." She gestured at him. "He needs to be aroused. Can't exactly perform the mana transfer if there's nothing to work with."
Mash nodded slowly, clearly trying to process the information like it was a technical briefing. "That makes sense. How do we—"
"Visual stimulation usually works best." Ritsuka's matter-of-fact tone somehow made the situation even more surreal. "Men are visual creatures. Show them something enticing and the body responds pretty much automatically."
She reached for the zipper on her jacket.
Griswald's brain short-circuited completely.
"Wait—what are you—"
The zipper descended. Ritsuka shrugged out of the jacket, revealing the form-fitting black shirt beneath. Then her hands moved to the hem of that shirt.
"This is easier to demonstrate than explain," she said, pulling the fabric up and over her head in one smooth motion.
The shirt joined the jacket on the rubble-strewn ground.
Griswald's mouth went dry. His eyes locked on the expanse of pale skin now exposed—her flat stomach, the curve of her ribs, and above that, two modest breasts constrained only by a simple black bra.
"See?" Ritsuka gestured at herself with casual confidence that suggested she'd done this before. "Male libido is pretty straightforward. Show some skin, and the blood flow redirects."
She wasn't wrong.
Despite everything—the apocalyptic surroundings, the mortifying circumstances, Olga's distant shrieking still audible from blocks away—Griswald felt his body responding. Heat pooled low in his abdomen. His pulse quickened.
Don't stare. Don't be a creep. Don't—
But looking away seemed impossible. His gaze traced the gentle swell of her breasts, the way they rose and fell with each breath. The black fabric cupped them snugly, a thin line of lace trim visible along the edges.
Ritsuka noticed his attention. A small smirk tugged at her lips.
"Good. That's working." She turned to Mash, who stood frozen beside them. "Your turn. He needs more than just me to get properly aroused. Two is better than one for this."
Mash's violet eyes went wide. "I should—you want me to—"
"Take off some clothes. Yes." Ritsuka's tone remained brisk and instructional. "Not everything. Just enough to give him something to look at while we work."
Mash's hands moved to her armor with visible reluctance. Her fingers fumbled at the fastenings—magical catches that should have released easily but seemed to resist her shaking hands.
"Here." Ritsuka stepped closer, helping her navigate the complex arrangement of straps and reinforced plating. "This part comes off first, then—yeah, like that."
The armored sections fell away piece by piece. The shield remained strapped to Mash's left arm, but the protective covering over her torso loosened and separated. Beneath the armor, she wore a skintight black bodysuit that clung to every curve.
Griswald's breath caught.
The bodysuit left absolutely nothing to imagination. It molded to her body like a second skin, emphasizing the gentle swell of her breasts, the curve of her waist, the flare of her hips. A cutout exposed a strip of pale stomach, the skin smooth and unmarked.
"That's good," Ritsuka murmured approvingly. She glanced at Griswald, tracking his widened eyes and parted lips. "Definitely working now."
She wasn't wrong.
Heat surged through Griswald's body. His cock stiffened rapidly inside his pants, straining against the fabric. The reaction was immediate and undeniable—two attractive women standing half-naked in front of him, their eyes fixed on him with expectant attention.
This is insane. This is absolutely insane.
But his body didn't care about sanity. It cared about the visual feast before him.
Ritsuka reached behind her back. The clasp of her bra released with a soft click. She shrugged the straps off her shoulders, letting the garment fall away completely.
Her breasts bounced slightly as they came free. Small but perfectly formed, topped with pale pink nipples that had already begun to stiffen in the cool air.
Griswald made a strangled sound in the back of his throat.
"There we go." Ritsuka's smirk widened. She cupped her breasts, lifting them slightly as if presenting them for his inspection. "Much better reaction. You're getting hard now, aren't you?"
The question should have been mortifying. Instead, the directness of it sent another surge of arousal through him.
"I—yes," he managed hoarsely.
Mash stood beside Ritsuka, watching the exchange with wide eyes. Her flush had spread down her neck and disappeared beneath her bodysuit. Her breathing had quickened noticeably.
"Your turn," Ritsuka said gently, turning to face her. "He needs to see more. The bodysuit is good, but bare skin is better."
Mash's hands trembled as they moved to the fastenings at her shoulders. The catches released one by one. The material loosened, peeling away from her torso.
She pulled it down slowly, revealing pale skin inch by inch. No bra constrained her breasts—apparently the suit had provided all the support she needed. They spilled free as the fabric descended, fuller than Ritsuka's, with dusky rose nipples that had already peaked into tight buds.
Griswald's cock throbbed painfully against his pants.
Beautiful. She's so—
The thought derailed as Mash's hands stalled at her waist. She'd bared herself to the navel, the bodysuit bunched around her hips. Her face had achieved a shade of crimson that looked medically concerning.
"I can't—" Her voice came out barely above a whisper. "This is already so—I don't know if I can—"
"That's enough for now." Ritsuka placed a reassuring hand on Mash's shoulder. "This is plenty to work with."
She turned back to Griswald with businesslike efficiency. "Alright. Drop your pants."
The command cut through the haze of arousal clouding his thoughts.
"What?"
"Your pants." Ritsuka gestured impatiently at his lower half. "Take them off. Can't exactly give you a blowjob through fabric."
Right. Of course. That makes sense.
His hands moved to his belt with mechanical precision. The buckle released. The button. The zipper. He pushed his pants and underwear down past his hips in one motion.
His cock sprang free, fully erect and already leaking from the tip.
Both women's eyes locked onto it immediately.
Ritsuka let out an appreciative hum. "Not bad. Above average, actually." She glanced at Mash. "About seven inches, I'd estimate. Decent girth. You'll probably need both hands."
Mash stared at his cock like she'd never seen one before. Which, given her history, she probably hadn't.
"It's... bigger than I expected," she whispered.
Ritsuka laughed softly. "They usually are." She dropped to her knees on the rubble, apparently unconcerned about the rough surface against her bare skin. "Come here. Watch carefully."
Mash knelt beside her, violet eyes fixed on Griswald's erection with mixture of fascination and trepidation.
"First." Ritsuka reached out, wrapping her fingers around the base of his shaft. "You want a firm grip. Not too tight—you're not trying to hurt him. But not too gentle either. Men like to feel your touch."
Her hand began stroking slowly up and down his length.
Griswald's breath hitched. The sensation of her warm palm sliding along his cock sent sparks of pleasure racing up his spine.
"See how he's responding?" Ritsuka's tone remained instructional despite the increasingly lewd nature of her demonstration. "His breathing's faster. Muscles tensing. That's good. It means you're doing it right."
She pumped her fist a few more times, drawing a low groan from Griswald's throat.
"Now." She leaned forward, tongue extending. "The next part is where most of the mana transfer happens."
Her tongue made contact with the underside of his cock, just below the head. She dragged it slowly upward, tracing the sensitive ridge before swirling around the tip.
Griswald's hips jerked involuntarily.
"Oh fuck—"
"Language," Ritsuka murmured with amusement. Then she wrapped her lips around the head of his cock and sucked.
Ritsuka's mouth descended further, taking him deeper. Her lips stretched around his girth as she worked inch by inch, her hand still stroking the base. Wet heat engulfed him, her tongue pressing flat against the underside of his shaft.
Griswald's hands clenched at his sides. Every nerve ending in his body seemed to converge at the point where Ritsuka's mouth met his cock. She pulled back slowly, creating suction that made his toes curl, then sank down again.
"Watch," she murmured around his length, the vibration sending fresh jolts of pleasure through him. She demonstrated the motion again—slow descent, hollowing her cheeks, the drag of her lips as she withdrew. "You want to create a rhythm. Steady. Like this."
Mash hadn't moved. Hadn't spoken. Her violet eyes remained locked on the obscene sight of Ritsuka's lips wrapped around Griswald's cock, tracking every movement with rapt attention. Her chest rose and fell rapidly beneath the bunched bodysuit, breasts swaying slightly with each breath.
Ritsuka released him with a wet pop, strings of saliva connecting her lips to his tip.
"Your turn."
She shifted sideways, making room. Her hand guided Mash forward by the shoulder.
Mash crawled closer on her knees, gaze never leaving Griswald's erection. It stood rigid between them, glistening with Ritsuka's saliva, the head flushed dark with arousal. Pre-cum beaded at the slit.
"Start with your hand," Ritsuka instructed. "Get comfortable touching it first."
Mash's fingers trembled as she reached out. Her palm made contact with his shaft, hesitant and uncertain. The touch was feather-light, almost reverent.
"Firmer," Ritsuka encouraged. "He won't break."
Mash's grip tightened. She wrapped her fingers around him fully, marveling at the heat radiating through her palm. The weight of him. The way her hand didn't quite close completely around his girth.
"It's... warm," she whispered. Her thumb traced along a prominent vein running up the underside. "And it's... throbbing."
"That's his pulse." Ritsuka reached over, placing her hand atop Mash's. "Feel it? That's blood rushing to keep him hard. For you."
Mash's flush deepened impossibly. Her eyes finally lifted to meet Griswald's, wide and uncertain and burning with something he couldn't quite name.
"For me," she repeated softly.
Ritsuka guided Mash's hand into motion. Up and down. Slow strokes that made Griswald's breath catch. Mash's gaze dropped back to his cock, watching her own hand work along his length with fascination.
"Good. Just like that." Ritsuka released her grip, letting Mash continue alone. "Now lean in. Use your mouth."
Mash hesitated, her strokes faltering.
"I don't—what if I do it wrong?"
"There's no wrong way." Ritsuka's voice gentled. "Just... do what feels natural. Start small. A lick. A kiss. Whatever you're comfortable with."
Mash leaned forward. Her breath ghosted across the sensitive head, making Griswald's hips twitch. She paused, violet eyes studying his cock from inches away. The way it pulsed in her grip. The bead of pre-cum gathering at the tip.
Her tongue darted out. A quick, tentative swipe across the slit.
Griswald groaned.
Mash pulled back immediately, eyes flying to his face. "Did I hurt you?"
"No." The word came out strangled. "Opposite. That felt—keep going. Please."
Ritsuka smirked. "See? You're doing fine."
Mash returned her attention to his cock. More confident now. Her tongue emerged again, this time tracing the ridge around the head. Exploring. Learning the shape and texture of him. Her hand continued stroking the shaft while her mouth worked the tip.
"That's it," Ritsuka murmured. "Now take him inside. Just the head at first."
Mash's lips parted. She leaned in, opening wider, and the head of Griswald's cock slipped past her lips into wet heat.
His vision blurred at the edges.
Mash's eyes widened at the intrusion. Her mouth stretched around his girth, lips forming a perfect seal. She held there, motionless, as if processing the sensation.
"Breathe through your nose," Ritsuka coached. "And remember—no teeth."
Mash's tongue moved tentatively against the underside of his head. Tasting. Her eyes never left his cock, watching the thick shaft disappear between her lips, utterly transfixed by the sight of herself performing this act.
"Now try going deeper. Take more of him."
Mash descended slowly. Inch by inch, his cock slid further into her mouth. Her hand shifted lower on the shaft to accommodate, fingers wrapped around the base. The wet heat of her mouth engulfed him, her tongue pressing against the sensitive underside.
Halfway down, she paused. Her brow furrowed slightly, throat working as she adjusted to the thickness filling her mouth.
"That's good," Ritsuka praised. "You don't have to take it all. Just what's comfortable. Now pull back and do it again."
Mash withdrew, her lips dragging along his length. At the tip, she paused—then sank back down. Found a rhythm. Slow, deliberate bobs of her head. Her violet eyes remained fixed on the obscene sight of his cock sliding in and out of her own mouth, mesmerized.
"Use your hand too," Ritsuka added. "Stroke what doesn't fit in your mouth. Create a seamless motion."
Mash's fist began pumping in counterpoint to her mouth. Up when she descended. Down when she withdrew. The dual stimulation sent electricity crackling through Griswald's nervous system.
"Fuck—Mash—"
She made a soft sound around his cock. Not quite a moan. More like a whimper. Her free hand clutched at his thigh for balance, breasts swaying beneath her as she worked.
Ritsuka watched with approval, absently toying with her own nipple. "You're a natural. Look how hard he is for you. How much he's leaking."
Mash's tongue swirled around the head on her next withdrawal, lapping at the pre-cum that had begun flowing freely. Her eyes fluttered half-closed, some of the initial nervousness melting into something else. Focus. Determination.
She wanted to do this well. Wanted to please him.
"Try taking him deeper," Ritsuka suggested. "Really see how much you can handle."
Mash descended again. Past her previous limit. The head of his cock nudged the back of her throat, making her gag slightly. She pulled back, coughing.
"It's okay." Ritsuka rubbed her back soothingly. "That's normal. Try relaxing your throat. Breathe."
Mash recovered quickly, diving back in with renewed determination. This time she anticipated the sensation, controlling her reflex. The head pushed past her gag point into the tight channel of her throat.
Griswald's hands flew to her hair without conscious thought. Tangling in the short lavender strands. Not guiding. Just holding. Anchoring himself against the overwhelming pleasure of watching Mash's lips stretch around his cock as she took him deeper than before.
Her eyes watered slightly but never closed. Never looked away from the sight of his shaft buried in her mouth. Completely absorbed in the act.
Mash's lips slid down his shaft again, awkward but eager. Her technique lacked polish—too much teeth at times, rhythm inconsistent, suction varying wildly—but what she lacked in skill she compensated with raw enthusiasm.
Her violet eyes never wavered from his cock. Watching herself take him. Fascinated by the way his length disappeared between her lips, emerged glistening, vanished again. Like she couldn't quite believe she was doing this.
Griswald's fingers tightened in her hair. The short lavender strands slipped through his grip as she bobbed, forcing him to constantly adjust his hold. Not pulling. Not guiding. Just... anchoring himself. Grounding himself in the tactile reality of what was happening.
Because his brain still couldn't quite process it.
Mash Kyrielight is on her knees. She's got my cock in her mouth. She's—
A particularly enthusiastic descent sent her nose pressing against his pelvis. She gagged immediately, pulling back with a wet cough. Saliva dripped from her chin. Her eyes watered.
"Easy," Ritsuka murmured from beside them. Her hand rubbed soothing circles on Mash's back. "Don't push too hard too fast. Work up to it."
Mash nodded, catching her breath. Then dove right back in.
No hesitation. No complaint. Just determination burning in those violet eyes as she wrapped her lips around him again.
Griswald groaned. His hips rocked forward slightly, chasing the wet heat of her mouth.
"That's it," Ritsuka encouraged. Her voice had taken on a husky quality. Arousal bleeding through the instructional tone. "You're doing so well, Mash. Look how hard you're making him."
Mash made a muffled sound around his cock. Pride, maybe. Or pleasure. Her hand pumped faster, stroking the base while her mouth worked the upper half. Finding confidence. Settling into a rhythm that, while still amateur, sent jolts of electricity through Griswald's nervous system.
"And you." Ritsuka's attention shifted to him. Amber eyes gleaming with wicked amusement. "Don't just stand there. Touch her. Show her you appreciate what she's doing."
Griswald's hands moved almost on instinct. One remained tangled in Mash's hair, fingers flexing against her scalp. The other traced down the side of her face, following the hollow of her cheek as it indented with suction.
His thumb brushed the corner of her stretched lips. Feeling where his cock disappeared into her mouth. The obscene fullness of it.
Mash's eyes fluttered at the touch. A breathy whimper escaped around his shaft.
"She likes that," Ritsuka observed, her own breathing growing heavier. "Keep going."
So he did. His fingers mapped the curve of her jaw. The delicate line of her throat that worked as she swallowed around him. Down to her bare shoulder, where the bodysuit had bunched at her waist.
Her skin burned under his palm. Flushed and hot. He traced the ridge of her collarbone, then lower—
His hand cupped her breast.
Mash's entire body jolted. She moaned—actually moaned—around his cock. The vibration traveled straight through him.
"Fuck—"
"There you go." Ritsuka's grin widened. "Touch her more. Play with her nipples. She's getting turned on from this too."
Griswald's thumb found the stiff peak of Mash's nipple. Circled it experimentally. Her back arched, pressing her breast more firmly into his palm. Another muted moan escaped her.
His other hand left her hair, reaching for her other breast. Kneading the soft flesh. Rolling both nipples between his fingers.
Mash's rhythm faltered. Her head bobbed erratically, torn between the dual stimulation—his cock filling her mouth and his hands teasing her breasts. Pleasure clearly building inside her despite her inexperience.
"That's perfect," Ritsuka breathed. Her own hand had slipped between her thighs, fingers working beneath her skirt. "Keep doing that. Both of you."
The wet sounds of Mash's mouth on his cock filled the ruined space. Slurping. Gagging slightly when she went too deep. The stroke of her fist on his shaft. Her breathy whimpers vibrating against his length.
Griswald's balls tightened. Heat coiled at the base of his spine. Pressure building rapidly.
Already? This fast?
But he'd never experienced anything like this before. Never had someone's mouth on him. Never touched a woman's bare skin. The sensory overload threatened to overwhelm him completely.
"I'm—" He gasped out a warning. "Mash, I'm close—"
She didn't pull away. Didn't slow. If anything, she doubled down. Sucking harder. Stroking faster. Her violet eyes locked on his face, watching his expression contort with approaching climax.
"Let her swallow it," Ritsuka instructed breathlessly. "That's the whole point. The mana transfer happens when she takes it inside."
Mash's free hand gripped his thigh, nails digging into flesh through his pants. Bracing herself. Ready.
Griswald's fingers tightened on her breasts. His hips jerked forward involuntarily. The pressure peaked—
"Mash—fuck—I'm—"
His cock pulsed. Once. Twice. Then erupted.
The first spurt hit the back of Mash's throat. She flinched but held firm, lips sealed around him as he emptied into her mouth. Pulse after pulse of hot cum flooding her. More than he'd ever produced before—his magecraft activating instinctively, multiplying his output.
Mash's eyes went wide. She swallowed frantically, throat working to accommodate the sudden deluge. Some leaked from the corners of her mouth anyway, dripping down her chin.
Griswald rode out the climax, hands still cupping her breasts as his cock twitched and spurted. The pleasure crashed through him in waves, blanking his mind completely.
When the final pulse subsided, Mash pulled back slowly. His softening cock slipped from her lips with an obscene wet sound. She sat back on her heels, panting. Cum smeared her chin and lips. Her eyes glazed.
Then she swallowed one final time. Deliberately. Making sure she'd taken every drop.
Mash's eyes drifted closed. A soft moan escaped her lips—breathless and wondering.
"I can feel it." Her voice came out barely above a whisper. "Senpai's energy. It's... filling me."
Her hand pressed against her stomach, fingers splaying across the exposed strip of pale skin. The flush on her cheeks deepened, spreading down her neck and across her chest. Her breasts rose and fell with quickened breathing.
"It's warm. Like... like drinking something hot, but everywhere." Another small sound escaped her. "I can feel the mana spreading through my circuits. Reinforcing them. My reserves are—oh—"
She shuddered. Her thighs pressed together reflexively.
Griswald stood frozen. His hands still hovered in the space where her breasts had been moments before. His cock hung semi-soft between his legs, glistening with saliva and the remnants of his release.
I just came in Mash's mouth.
The thought refused to fully process. His brain kept circling it like a dog chasing its tail, unable to grasp the reality of what had happened.
I came in her mouth. I groped her breasts. I—
His mind stuttered again. Replayed the sensation of her nipples hardening under his palms. The weight of her soft flesh filling his hands. The way she'd moaned around his cock when he'd touched her.
Heat rushed to his face. Embarrassment warred with lingering arousal.
What did I just do? What the fuck did I just—
"Hey."
Ritsuka's voice cut through his spiraling thoughts. She'd withdrawn her hand from between her thighs, though her cheeks remained flushed and her breathing unsteady.
"You both seem to have the basics down." Her amber eyes tracked between them with satisfaction. "After that, it really just depends on what you both like. What makes you feel good."
She adjusted her position, wincing slightly as a piece of rubble dug into her knee. The movement drew Griswald's gaze to her bare chest again—her small breasts still exposed, nipples stiff in the cool air.
He forced his eyes away. Found himself looking at Mash instead.
Somehow that wasn't better.
She remained on her knees, bodysuit bunched at her waist, breasts fully exposed. Cum still smeared her chin and lips. Her violet eyes had opened again, hazy and unfocused as she continued processing the mana flowing through her system.
Beautiful. She looked absolutely—
Stop that. Don't think about her like that.
Except how could he not? After what they'd just done? After watching her take him into her mouth? After touching her?
"So." Ritsuka's tone shifted into something more practical. "Can you refill your... output? Using your magecraft?"
Griswald blinked. His brain struggled to shift gears from mortified arousal to technical analysis.
"I... maybe?" He frowned, trying to focus through the haze. "The principle should be the same as blood replacement. Stimulating production. Accelerating cellular processes."
His hand moved to his lower abdomen without conscious thought. Magical energy stirred sluggishly in his circuits—weak as always, but present.
He concentrated. Directed the flow downward. Visualized the biological structures involved. Testes. Seminal vesicles. Prostate. All the components that had just emptied themselves into Mash's mouth.
His magecraft activated.
It felt... strange. Not painful, exactly. But intensely present. A tingling warmth that spread through his groin as his body responded to the magical stimulus. Cells dividing. Fluid accumulating. The heavy sensation of fullness returning far faster than biology should allow.
Thirty seconds. Maybe less.
The sensation faded. His hand fell away.
"It worked," he reported, slightly awed. "I can feel it. I'm... ready again."
Ritsuka's eyebrows rose. "Already? That fast?"
"Apparently." He glanced down at himself. His cock had begun to stiffen again, responding to the restored reserves and the continued visual stimulation of two half-naked women kneeling nearby.
Mash's eyes tracked the movement. Watched him grow hard again. Her tongue darted out, licking traces of cum from her lips.
The gesture was probably unconscious. Automatic.
It still sent a jolt straight to Griswald's cock.
"That's... incredibly useful." Ritsuka's clinical assessment couldn't quite mask the impressed note in her voice. "Most men need at least fifteen minutes. Often longer. But if you can just keep refilling yourself instantly..."
She trailed off, the implications hanging obvious in the air.
Multiple transfers. Back to back. Enough to fill Mash's reserves completely.
Mash seemed to arrive at the same conclusion. Her gaze lifted from his erection to his face. Questioning. Hopeful.
"Master." Her voice carried a breathless quality. "If you can do that... then we could..."
She didn't finish. Didn't need to.
Griswald's throat went dry. His freshly restored cock throbbed, already eager for more despite having just climaxed.
She wants to keep going. She wants me to—
"Yes." The word escaped before his brain could catch up with his mouth. "We should. To maximize your reserves. For the mission."
For the mission. Right. That's why.
The excuse sounded hollow even to his own ears.
But Mash's expression brightened. Relief and anticipation mingled in her violet eyes as she leaned forward again, hands reaching for him.
"Then..." Her fingers wrapped around his shaft, stroking gently. "I'd like to try again, Master. If that's alright."
Griswald's hips jerked forward into her grip. His hands found her hair again without conscious direction.
"Yeah." His voice came out rough. "That's—yes. Alright."
Mash's lips curved into a small smile. Still nervous. Still uncertain. But ready.
Ritsuka settled back against the rubble, apparently content to watch. Her hand drifted between her thighs again, fingers working beneath her skirt.
"Don't mind me," she murmured. "Just enjoying the show."
Mash's tongue traced the underside of Griswald's cock. Teasing the sensitive ridge. Then her lips parted, and wet heat engulfed him once more.
Mash's mouth descended again, her lavender strands falling forward to curtain her face as she took him deeper. This time she tried something different—swirling her tongue around the head before descending, creating a spiral pattern that made Griswald's hips jerk involuntarily.
"That's—fuck—that's really—"
His words dissolved into incoherent sounds as she hollowed her cheeks, creating suction that bordered on overwhelming. She was learning. Rapidly. Each pass of her lips brought new experiments, testing different angles and pressures to see what made him react.
Ritsuka watched from her position against the rubble, one hand still working between her thighs. Her breathing had grown ragged, amber eyes tracking every movement with fascination.
Mash's tongue worked along his shaft with increasing confidence, tracing patterns that sent sparks racing up Griswald's spine. Her violet gaze stayed locked on his throbbing shaft, utterly mesmerized by the lewd spectacle of her own mouth devouring it in this heated exchange. The rosy heat blooming on her face intensified beyond belief, snaking down her slender throat and blooming across her heaving, bare tits.
Ritsuka shifted against the rubble, her hand moving faster between her thighs. Her amber eyes tracked every movement—the bob of Mash's head, the stretch of her lips around Griswald's girth, the way his fingers tangled in lavender hair with increasing desperation.
"With this," Ritsuka murmured breathlessly, "you should be able to fight at peak strength now, Mash. Your reserves must be—oh—"
Her words dissolved into a soft moan as her own pleasure built. She bit her lip, struggling to maintain her instructional tone despite the distraction.
"The thing is..." Ritsuka paused, gasping slightly as her fingers found a particularly sensitive spot. "If the battle runs too long, you'll still have the problem of running out of mana. The transfer is effective, but it's not infinite. Your reserves will deplete with sustained combat, and then—"
She laughed suddenly, the sound breathless and slightly unhinged.
"It's not like the enemy would just let you suck Griswald off in the middle of a fight."
The absurd image conjured by her words hung in the air for a moment. Mash paused mid-descent, Griswald's cock halfway in her mouth, violet eyes widening slightly at the mental picture.
Then Griswald's mind stuttered.
Wait.
The memory surfaced with crystal clarity. The sterile corridor. The enigmatic blonde standing by the windows. That flat, precise voice delivering cryptic warnings about things changing.
Things change. Many things have changed today.
The box pressed against his thigh through his pants pocket. The strange gift that had made absolutely no sense until this exact moment.
We will meet again.
"Holy shit," Griswald breathed.
Mash pulled back, releasing him with a wet sound. Saliva connected her lips to his tip in glistening strands. "Master? What's wrong?"
His hands moved before conscious thought could intervene. Fumbling at his pocket. Finding the small rectangular container that Daybit had pressed into his palm with such deliberate precision.
The box emerged, plain and unremarkable. Griswald stared at it with dawning comprehension that felt simultaneously impossible and inevitable.
Many things have changed today.