Chapter 18: Bonds of Blood and the Masked Pact
Scene 1: The Weight of Shared Flesh
Nero awoke to an unfamiliar heaviness—a soft warmth pressed against his chest. His eyes fluttered open to silken strands of silver hair spilling over her shoulders. Her shoulders.
Nero (internally):
What in the nine hells—
He bolted upright, hands instinctively grasping—too soft, too wrong. A scream tore from Eri's throat.
Eri (shrieking in their shared mindscape):
"Close your eyes, you pervert!"
Baltimore burst in, unfazed. "Red Moon's curse. Two souls, one vessel. You'll swap control daily."
Nero—trapped in Eri's form—glared. "Fix. This."
Baltimore (smirking):
"Pray the moon wanes quickly."
Scene 2: The Devil's Bargain
Verlord's castle loomed—a jagged spire clawing at a blood-red sky. Eri strode in, her borrowed body radiating menace, Nero's presence simmering beneath.
Verlord (leaning on a throne of bones):
"Baltimore's heir. Why court death?"
Nero (projecting through Eri's voice):
"Your son. Aryavarta took him."
The devil king stilled. Shadows writhed. "And?"
Nero:
"I retrieve him. You get me into the Masked Tribe."
Verlord's laughter rattled the chamber. "You think to infiltrate Fernando's lapdogs?"
Nero's aura erupted—a maelstrom of hellvine energy. Chains of blue flame coiled around Verlord's throat.
Nero (cold):
"I don't think. I will."
Scene 3: The Price of Trust
Verlord's gaze faltered. "The Masked Tribe answers only to the king. But…" He tossed a seal—a grotesque mask etched in obsidian. "This grants entry to their academy. Fail, and your corpse feeds my hounds."
Eri (taking the seal):
"We'll need more. Armaments. Intel."
Verlord (snarling):
"Take what you want. But if my son dies—"
Nero (cutting him off):
"He won't."
As they left, Verlord's whisper followed: "Beware the Tribe's trials. They break even devils."
Epilogue: Shadows in the Moonlight
Later — Nero's Mindscape
Eri floated in their shared soul-space, her form flickering.
Eri:
"Why risk this? The Masked Tribe's no ally."
Nero (gazing at the hellvine gate within):
"Fernando's weakness lies there. And…" He hesitated. "The Tribe knows about the Primordial."
Eri's eyes widened. "The thing under Aryavarta?"
Nero's grin turned feral. "Let's wake it… before the king does."
Author's Note:
The game deepens. Nero's duality becomes both weapon and vulnerability, while Verlord's desperation veils darker schemes. Next: Academy of Masks, where trust is a blade, and every face hides a lie.
—Where the true enemy wears a smile.