The 92nd Desirer

Dance! Dance! Dance!

Gauzy curtains veiled a graceful, indistinct figure. Light bells rang out—joy, joy, joy, joy, joy like wine, brewing the nectar of indulgence.

Abandon!

A slender hand emerged from between the dazzling fabrics. Fine scales crept across it, gleaming with countless charms in time with its owner's chanting. Layer upon layer of bracelets, each in a different style, adorned it—painted pottery and delicate porcelain, yet none bore the luster of jewels or the splendor of gold and silver.

It merely trod upon purples and reds.

Had anyone witnessed this scene, they would have discovered that this hand was identical to the one that had loosed that arrow ten thousand years ago—only more delicate, more boneless. Cloying desire languidly kneaded itself into its bones, lacking some of the fangs of ambition.

+Hah~+

The youngest Queen yawned.

The god of incomplete authority glanced aside. The treacherous currents of reality seemed far too pale and dull—since that fleeting glimpse ten thousand years ago, she had never been so cheerful again, never so delighted again.

Everything had become boring.

Yet the stars and sun continued to turn.

Ah... ten thousand years ago... that wonderful night, that ultimate darkness.

She savored it as though it were honey.

Not enough... not enough... still not enough...

Sounds came from amid the bed of countless purples and reds. A long tongue curled around a wrist. That indulgence ten thousand years ago had cost her too much—so much that it had utterly changed her.

Dominion and vanity had completely left her—but they had not been washed away during those days immersed in black water. Another existence had taken them. While the gods battled, crushed one another, cooperated, and were squeezed by reality, The Fifth One devoured the gods' scraps and successfully rose to its feet.

After that,