Dex kept his stance loose, the Data Dagger still humming in his grip. "We've got nothing to talk about," he said, voice flat. "Malo, give him back the dagger. Let's call it even."
Malo groaned, clutching his ribs as he staggered to his feet. "Ugh, fine." He pulled Emberfang from his belt—the crimson blade still gleaming with stolen hellfire—and tossed it at Ignis' feet. "Happy?"
Ignis didn't even glance at it.
"The dagger was never the point," the warlord rumbled. "Your little thief broke into my fortress, stole from my vault, and humiliated my men." Molten cracks spiderwebbed across his arms as he stepped forward. "He pays with his life. A level or two lost, his inventory wiped. A mercy."
Dex's jaw tightened. "Not happening."
Ignis' grin was all teeth. "Then you'll come with me instead. Willingly."
The air between them crackled—hellfire against glitching static.
Dex exhaled. "...Fine. Lead the way."
Ignis turned, his cape of living embers flaring as he strode toward the obsidian towers in the distance. Dex followed, but his attention snagged on a sudden notification:
[SPECTRE (NEO-TOKYO): ???]
[MESSAGE: "Where the hell are you? You're online but not in any Neo-Tokyo sectors."]
Dex's fingers twitched. He typed back as he walked:
[DEX: "I'm in Emberfall. Dealing with demon drama."]
[DEX: "You okay? Any word on Pink Wolf?"]
The reply came fast:
[SPECTRE:"Emberfall?! How—"
[SPECTRE: "Nevermind. PW's arm is gone. Valentina's using it as a spy drone now."]
[SPECTRE: "Get your ass back here. We've got a bigger problem."]
Dex's gut twisted. But before he could respond, Ignis paused at the gates of his fortress—a monstrous citadel carved into the side of an active volcano.
"Welcome," the warlord purred, "to the Ashen Maw."
The doors groaned open, revealing a throne room lined with chained souls and a floor of bubbling magma.
Somewhere in Dex's pocket, the Origin Mask pulsed.
"...warm here... isn't it...?"
A cold tingle slithered down Dex's spine—a voice, faint yet sharp, like static cutting through a dream.
"...he wants to use you..."
Then it was gone, slipping from his mind like smoke.
Dex blinked, refocusing on Ignis as the warlord settled onto his throne—a jagged obsidian monstrosity wreathed in perpetual flame. Two female Demonkin players draped themselves over him, their revealing armor glinting in the firelight as they poured dark wine into a goblet shaped like a screaming skull. One traced a clawed finger down Ignis' chest, whispering something that made him chuckle.
"Now then," Ignis said, taking a slow sip. "Remove your hood. Let's see the face of the man who butchered my guards."
Dex didn't move. Valentina's wanted posters were plastered across every server. Revealing himself now would be suicide.
"Get to the point," Dex said, voice flat.
Ignis' grin widened. "Work for me."
"No."
The refusal came instantly. The warlord's grip tightened on the goblet, the metal groaning in protest.
"You have skills I've never seen in Emberfall," Ignis pressed. "I can offer you credits. Women." He gestured to the Demonkin in his lap. "Equipment worthy of your talents."
"Still no."
Behind Dex, Malo let out a weak laugh. "Damn right—"
A loud slap cut him off, followed by a pained grunt. Dex didn't turn. Didn't need to. His fingers twitched, the Data Dagger materializing in his grip for a split second before dissolving again.
One day, Dex promised silently, I'll kill you in the most painful way possible.
Out loud, he said: "I won't work for you. But I'll complete one task. Your choice."
Ignis studied him, hellfire eyes burning. Then—he laughed.
"Bold. Very well." He leaned forward, the women scattering from his lap like startled birds. "There's a relic buried in the Ashen Wastes—the Heart of the Inferno. Retrieve it for me."
Dex didn't hesitate. "Done."
Ignis smirked. "Oh, and Dex?"
"What."
"Fail, and your friend loses more than just levels."
The threat hung in the air, thick as the sulfur stench of Emberfall.
Somewhere in Dex's pocket, the Origin Mask pulsed again.
"...liar... he won't let you leave either way..."
Dex tilted his head, considering Ignis for a long moment before turning on his heel. "Malo," he said, voice low. "Log out."
Malo hesitated, glancing between Dex and the smirking warlord. "But—"
"Do it."
Ignis chuckled, swirling his wine. "Even if he logs out, it's only temporary. Unless he has a Portal Key, he'll respawn right back here—and my men will be waiting."
Dex didn't flinch. "Then I'll be back before he logs in again." He met Malo's eyes. "Go."
Malo exhaled, then vanished in a flicker of logout static.
Ignis raised his goblet in mock salute. "I'll be waiting."
Dex left without another word.
The inn was a ramshackle building wedged between two smoldering fissures, its sign creaking ominously in the sulfurous wind. Dex paid the skeletal innkeeper 10 credits for a room and locked the door behind him.
The space was barely larger than a closet, the bed a slab of volcanic rock with a threadbare blanket. Dex didn't care. He sat on the edge, pulling the Origin Mask from his cloak.
The obsidian surface was cold, unnaturally smooth. No voice whispered now—just silence, and that strange pull in his gut, urging him to put it on.
Screw it.
He lifted the mask to his face.
The moment it touched his skin, fire erupted across his nerves. Dex bit back a scream as the mask fused to him, its surface flooding with lines of glitching blue code. Notifications exploded in his vision:
[ORIGIN MASK: OWNER CONFIRMED]
[ITEM RESTORED]
[DESCRIPTION UNLOCKED]
The text scrolled before him, crimson and unflinching:
"The Cyber Lord was never one to respect privacy. He was everywhere. Watching. Learning. Stealing. All-knowing. All-greedy. A god of data and desire."
[MASK SKILLS]
SKILL THIEF (ACTIVE)
"Why earn when you can take?"
Effect: After engaging in intercourse with a female target, steal one of their skills permanently.
Cooldown: 30 days.
Note: Consent optional. Consequences not included.
2. ??? (LOCKED)
3. ??? (LOCKED)
The mask's code stabilized, its surface returning to featureless black—but Dex could feel it now, a second skin humming with latent power.
He tore it off, his breath ragged.
What the hell kind of power is this?
Somewhere, in the depths of Emberfall, a volcano rumbled.
And the mask laughed.