Jayr POV - Nasuverse, Moon, SE.RA.PH, Tsukumihara Academy - 2030 AD
The first thing I notice is the light, it is soft, golden, unreal as it filters through the crystalline curtains of SE.RA.PH's simulated dawn and scatters across the room in geometric shards, painting Nero's sleeping form beside me.
For a long moment, I just watch her softly breathe.
She looks peaceful in a way that feels almost forbidden here, this merciless world built for combat and deletion.
Her chest rises and falls with the unhurried rhythm of someone who still believes in mornings.
The bed covers are tangled between us, one pale hand resting over mine, fingers loosely interlaced.
A faint smile touches my lips. The night before had changed things, not through passion alone but through honesty, through a rare shedding of masks.
It wasn't conquest, it wasn't indulgence, it was recognition and acceptance.
The Emperor of Roses and the Champion of Culture. Servant and Master. Two powerful beings who had finally stopped pretending they were untouchable.
And in the strange, code-woven air around us, I can feel it: our bond humming stronger than before, an invisible current threading our souls together in ways that not even the ritual of Alteration of the Soul was able to do.
Her mana signature flows into my Spiral Cosmo like a river returning to its source before converging back into her in a perfectly synchronized manner.
Even the air in the room feels charged, as if the Moon Cell itself senses a variable it hadn't accounted for.
I turn my gaze upward, watching the ceiling patterns shift slowly from night to dawn and murmur to myself, "No regrets," while thinking, 'For sure, I didn't plan to get so involved with Nero... But our bond has grown so strong that it was almost inevitable.'
At the same time, I'm also grateful for the fact that I've left my Digimon Incarnation in my home universe, and because of that, I was able to inform them of what was about to happen with Nero and receive their approval.
Among them, Tio and Alvida were the happiest and the most excited to gain a new "sister," since they are, well, the most perverted and open among my wives.
While I'm thinking that, Nero stirs, imperceptibly at first, just a sigh and a small movement of her shoulders.
Then her eyes flutter open, bright green slicing through the golden haze, she blinks twice before her lips curl into that trademark grin that could make even the Moon Cell blush before she says, "Umu… My Praetor wakes before me. How diligent. Did you dream of my beauty again?"
I chuckle before I reply, "Maybe. Though you left little room for imagination."
Her laughter bubbles out, soft but triumphant, and she rolls onto her side to face me fully and says, "Then my presence lingers even in your dreams. Good. It should. Last night was… splendid, was it not?"
The teasing lilt is there, but beneath it something genuine gleams, warmth, pride, even affection.
I nod and with a serious tone I say, "It was more than splendid. It was real. That's saying something in this cruel, virtual Reality Marble where we are forced to kill or be killed."
Nero stretches languidly, like a cat who knows she's adored and says, "Then perhaps reality should tremble, for we have improved upon it. Still, one might say an emperor should verify such revelations with… repetition."
Her smirk widens, wicked and playful, making me raise an eyebrow and also something else before I try to restrain myself and say, "Tempting offer. But I think the Moon Cell would prefer we start the day upright rather than horizontal."
She sighs, half-dramatic, half-genuine, "Ah, duty. Forever jealous of pleasure." Then, softer, "Still, I am content. You carry yourself differently this morning, Jayr. The flame between us burns steady now, not wild. That pleases me."
Hearing that, I answer while pushing up from the bed, "Good. Because steady flames win wars."
However, Nero suddenly giggles a little before she says, while focusing her gaze on my erect little brother, who is standing in all its glory, "Umu… It seems that someone is still not ready to start the day... Don't worry, my Praetor, this Emperor knows what to do..."
Shortly after saying that, she leans over, licking her lips before her mouth opens wide as her tongue comes out, licking my straining shaft.
She then looks up at me and slowly licks my straining knob as we lock eyes.
I start to breathe rapidly as I feel my little brother enter her mouth, as she starts licking and sucking it.
At this point, I am unable to hold back and moan lightly while Nero steadily strokes my aching shaft with her lips, perfectly forming a circle around my manhood, a sight that makes me quickly approach that aching release.
She starts pouting her cheeks to squeeze me in her mouth while her head bobs up and down, driving me deeper into her hot throat.
I can only hold on to her scented hair, guiding her head to fuck her mouth easily as my hips start to thrust up involuntarily. All I want to do is melt in her mouth.
"Ugh… Gh..." I groan as I feel her mouth contract around my little brother, clutching my family jewels with her nimble fingers, too.
I am captivated while looking down and seeing Nero's mouth taking in my large thrusting hardness, but the blissful feeling makes me want to go deeper.
"Umph!" Nero grasps my hard little brother while taking it further into her throat as my grip tightens in her hair.
She twists her tongue around and looks up at me, making me start to thrust my little brother in and out of her mouth even harder, reaching the base of her throat, coming very close to completion.
She gets misty-eyed as she suck on my little brother harder for a split second, but I don't stop shoving my little brother in her mouth. I merely gasp and keep going, thrusting towards the climax.
"Ughh damn...!!" I start to stiffen up, my toes stretch out as my body is ready to release the nectar, then on a burning peak, my cream spurts out deep inside her throat.
My body shivers and spasms, finally getting the release I longed for so badly. I push her face harder, pumping into her mouth, sending the very last drop deep inside.
With audible swallows, she gulps everything down and, with a long, final hard suck, falls back into the bed; moaning, mumbling in a teasing and prideful tone, "Umu... This is surely a much better way to start the morning than what the Moon Cell planned, isn't it?"
After that, we freshen up, and soon the room brightens as if responding to our shift in focus.
Lines of code crawl lazily across the walls before dissolving as I once again reinforce the various protections in place.
Then I start to dress up, fix my tie, pull on a black jacket, and put on a pair of brown gloves over my hands while the faint glow of the Command Seals pulsing once beneath the fabric, almost like a heartbeat.
For today, I decided to change my attire a bit; instead of donning my usual teacher-like attire, I felt in the mood to put on something that gives the vibe of a classic English gentleman.
Shortly after I'm done dressing, I hear the sound of armored boots materializing, filling the air behind me.
A sign that Nero has summoned her regalia again: crimson, gold, regal as fire given form.
She twirls her sword once before letting it vanish, before the dress and the rest of her figure melt away into light as she shifts into her Spirit Form; However, her voice remains, disembodied yet near, "An Emperor must not be seen idling before dawn. Let us greet the day with triumph, my Praetor."
I pull out the portable terminal in my pocket and quickly scan it, noticing no new messages yet, before I quickly put it back in my pocket and say, "Couldn't agree more. The Second Selection should start soon. We'll find out who our next opponent is."
Then I hear Nero's voice as she replies, "Whoever they are, they shall learn that roses bloom even on battlefields. We will continue to emerge victorious."
I smile at the familiar bravado and say, "Then let's make sure the garden stays ours."
After saying that, I don't waste any more time and move toward the door leading to the hallway on the 1st floor of the campus.
The door dissolves open with a ripple of light, revealing the corridor beyond, and the atmosphere hits instantly; it is thick, charged, different.
Yesterday, this floor had felt somewhat empty but still casual, filled with murmured conversations and cautious optimism as the NPCs continued with their day.
Now, a tense silence reigns; the survivors of the first round move like ghosts between classrooms, their faces pale, their eyes calculating.
Even the NPCs go through motions with eerie precision, as if SE.RA.PH itself is mourning those deleted, but that is likely the impression it wants to give; after all, the whole purpose of this Holy Grail War is only to allow the Moon Cell to gather data.
Still, the air tastes like anticipation and fear, as no one is now able to hide behind any illusion or ignorance; they all faced the truth of this cruel Holy Grail War.
Nero's unseen presence hums close beside me as her voice resounds in my mind through our bond, [The survivors reek of uncertainty. Victory has made them nervous and even more afraid of losing. How amusing.]
Taking a quick look at my surroundings, I reply through our bond, [People always fear what they've proven they can survive. It means the next test will be worse.]
After that, we start walking, no clear destination yet, just movement to stave off stillness.
My boots echo softly against the polished floor, the simulated sunlight beyond the windows feels too bright, especially considering the early hour; it is like the system is in some way compensating for all the darkness it created.
At the far end of the hallway, two Masters pass by, whispering to one another.
They immediately stop talking the moment they see me, making me nod politely, but they avert their eyes, which makes Nero chuckle in my mind, [Huhuhu... Even without revealing our might, we are still able to intimidate them, my Praetor.]
I hold back from shaking my head as I keep walking while replying, [Let them be. They'll need that fear soon. The just amount of fear keeps one sharp... but too much it cripples you.]
We get out of the main building and cut through the courtyard, calmly observing our surroundings as we continue to aimlessly wander around the campus, when I suddenly notice a small flock of artificial birds flutter overhead, looping the same three patterns again and again.
I breathe in the coded air, half expecting it to smell of ozone, before I mutter, "It's strange. The world created by SE.RA.PH tries so hard to pretend it's alive on so many levels, but still keeps these few glaring details that reveal its true nature."
Nero's voice is soft for once as she comments, [Perhaps it envies what it cannot become. Or maybe it is simply yet another means to gather more data and see how its subjects react under such conditions.]
We pass the fountain, the same one that glitched briefly during my Preliminary Stage, another glaring hint for those trying to pass at that time.
It now runs perfectly, crystal water cascading into the basin as if nothing was ever wrong with it, but I can still feel the faint trace of the system's intent beneath the previous illusion.
The portable terminal remains silent in my pocket, making me sigh and say, "No pairing notice yet. We might as well look around until the system decides to play god." Which makes Nero chuckle and comment, [Then lead on, my saintly Praetor.]
We are halfway across the eastern corridor when a faint tremor of energy brushes against my senses, a pulse, a resonance I know way too well.
My Spiral Cosmo meets the faint pulse of Chaos magic, weaving a familiar signature. It is an agreed signal produced by my friend, which makes me stop and whisper in a relieved tone, "Aletha."
Moments later, she turns the corner, her uniform is different from before, it has been modified, more functional, like a battle gear shaped in the form of the school uniform rather than pure fabric.
Her brown hair catches the digital sunlight while her gray eyes are sharp but relieved when they land on me.
Then, Aletha calmly starts to approach me while simply saying, "Jayr." I answer with a grin, "Still breathing. That's always a good start."
She crosses the distance between us, her smile small but sincere, "I was wondering if the Moon Cell had already tried to delete you for breaking too many of its rules and being an uncontrollable variable."
I snort out loud before saying, "I'm offended. I only bend them creatively. And it isn't like I'm the only one doing that..."
Her laugh is quick and familiar as she nods and comments, "Sounds about right."
We fall into step beside each other, an easy rhythm formed from the strong friendship we have forged during the intense adventure in the Tensei Shitara Slime Datta Ken Universe and the war against the Champion of Power and his army.
At the same time, I feel Nero, still invisible, hums in quiet approval as she says through our bond, [I now see why she is your friend... She carries herself well. A sharp difference from all the other Masters we have seen until now. She, too, is a warrior worthy of respect.]
I can't help smiling inwardly while continuing to talk with Aletha, "You look good, Aletha. How'd your first match go? Any nasty surprises?"
Her gaze flicks sideways before she replies, "Efficiently. My opponent underestimated me. I might have let them think they were winning for a few seconds... Purely for dramatic tension... Not because he was an annoying little prick that almost made me cast a localized and focused Crucio directed at his croch..."
Hearing that, I can't help but feel a bit of a cold sweat running down my back while replying dryly, "Of course. You always did love your stagecraft..."
She nudges my shoulder and shoots back, "Says the man who teaches grammar with stand-up comedy." Which makes me smirk, raise my arm in surrender, and say, "Touché."
We keep walking through the corridor, the silence between us filled with the faint hum of SE.RA.PH's systems.
Even when we don't speak, the understanding still lingers; it is the kind built from surviving universe-ending battles shoulder to shoulder.
Still, the unspoken truth hangs between us: even if we are friends, we're competitors at the moment. Allies by history, rivals by design.
After that moment of silence, she finally says in a casual but probing tone, "So... How's your Servant?"
I glance sideways, knowing Nero is listening with imperial pride, "Reliable. Loud. A bit theatrical." Which makes Aleth chuckle and says, "Sounds like you found your match."
At the same time, in my mind, Nero's voice ripples in amusement, [Flattery from a worthy adversary. I approve.]
I resist the urge to respond aloud and instead focus on Aletha, "And you? Will you also throw your friend a bone?"
She nods before she replies in a dry and ironic tone, "Yeah, sure... Do you think I'm stupid? With your freaking encyclopedic knowledge of all the Servants existing in this universe, I'm sure that you won't be able to find out my Servant identity thanks to a few details or keywords I may unconsciously slip out..."
Hearing her response, I chuckle and say, "Well, one can still try... And it isn't like I know all the Servants existing in the Throne of Heroes. Only about 447 of them... Some of which are variations of the same Servant but with different Class or modified Origin..."
Again, Aletha snorts and says in an ironic tone, "Hmpf... Yes, that is just about 4 times the number of initial Masters taking part in this Holy Grail War... There is absolutely no chance that my Servant is among those you know!"
Our conversation drifts toward lighter ground, theories about the Moon Cell's architecture, speculations about which Servants may have survived the first Elimination Battle.
Time passes, and soon our conversation shifts to yet another topic, the Magic System of this universe.
You can tell a lot about a person by how they argue about magic.
Aletha waves her smaller and less powerful wand-like CAD like she is conducting an orchestra, the tip flashing every time she makes a point while stepping around a puddle on the path and saying, "So, let me get this straight. Do the people of this universe need circuits to use magic? Inside their body? That sounds like something out of a sci-fi novel."
I quickly correct her, "Magic circuits," my hands in my pockets as we stroll across campus.
It is almost noon, that golden hour when the sun is at its peak, the NPC students pass us, some with textbooks, others with snacks and earbuds, but none of them minds the absurd conversation we are having as I'm making sure that no one can listen to us.
Meanwhile, I continue to explain, "They're not tech. They're part of the soul, channels that convert life force into thaumaturgical energy."
She glances over, the bright light catching in her hair while she comments, "You make it sound like everyone's born with a built-in power grid."
I shrugged my shoulder and sat, "Pretty much. Except most people have like, two circuits at best. A magus might have fifty. The real freaks... Sorry, the gifted have hundreds."
Aletha huffs, brushing her sleeve, "That's absurd. In my world, magic's just… well, it's magic. You learn the words, wave the wand, control and direct the energy, and picture what you want. You don't have to wire yourself like a Christmas tree."
Kicking a loose pebble off the sidewalk, I grin and humourously say, "Yeah, I've watched the movies, read the books, and a hell lot of fanfiction. It's all wishful thinking with a British accent."
She elbows me while saying in a mock threatening tone, "Careful, I could hex you."
Hearing that, I chuckle and reply, "Please. I've survived battles against entities throwing literal galaxies at me..." Which makes Aletha mutter, "Show-off."
We arrive in the garden in front of the chapel, and I slow down, watching the sunlight catch in the glass windows.
It is quiet here, the kind of place where the air always smells faintly like chalk dust and nostalgia before I say, "See, that's the thing. Magecraft isn't about wishful thinking. It's about imitation. This universe used to have true Magic, capital M, but it's gone now. The Age of Gods ended. What they've got left is the imitation of miracles."
Hearing that, Aletha echoes, "Imitation? You make it sound… sad." Which I admit, "It kind of is. Real Magic, the stuff that could bend time, create worlds, rewrite reality, that's extinct. There are only five people or so who can still do that. Everyone else is just faking divinity with enough equations, madness, and family trauma."
Aletha blinks before she asks, "Wait, five? Only five people in this entire universe can do actual magic?"
I nod and reply, "Yup. The rest of them use magecraft... Little tricks built on logic, sacrifice, and too much caffeine. And in this particular reality, even that has become rare... With Codecast taking its place."
She snorts and comments, "And here I thought wizards were pretentious. These people turned miracle-working into a research project."
I spread my arms open and say, "Welcome to the Nasuverse. You either study, bleed, or blow yourself up trying."
We walk in silence for a bit, listening to the crunch of leaves under our shoes. Aletha's CAD hangs loosely at her side, glinting like a lazy challenge until she finally says, "You know. I don't think I'd like this Magic system. It's… cold. Detached. Magic's supposed to be wonder, not work."
I smile and say, "You say that, but you'd be surprised. Magecraft might look sterile, but it's born from the same desire... To touch something beyond ourselves. They just use different languages. Yours is faith. Theirs is defiance."
She tilts her head and asks, "Defiance?"
I stopped and looked at her. "Yeah. The world said no more miracles. They just refused to listen. Typical humans..."
That earns me a small, crooked smile, "You're such a nerd." In response, I mockingly appear offended and correct her, "Hey, I'm not a nerd, I am a Man of Culture! I don't want to hear such words coming from the woman who alphabetizes her potion ingredients and created her own technologically advanced wand."
This is her turn to appear mock-offended as she says, "Organization is a virtue. And it took me years to create my CADs!"
Then the inevitable chime rings from both our terminals, sharp, metallic, unmistakable.
We both pull out our portable terminals from our pockets and focus on the line of text that appears across the screens:
[The next combatants will be announced on the second floor bulletin board.]
Seeing that, I exhale through my nose and comment, "Right on schedule." Aletha pockets her terminal and asks, "Second floor then. You ready?"
I also pocket mine, and with a confident smile on my face, I reply, "Always."
We head toward the stairwell, and around us, other Masters are also already on the move, faces set with grim curiosity.
The air thickens with overlapping mana signatures, many of which try to stay hidden with some more successful than others; tension coils tighter with each step as we get closer and closer to our destination.
Nero's presence shivers beside me, a golden echo of confidence while she encourages me through our bond, [No matter who they pit against us, we will triumph, Praetor.] To which I nod subtly and reply with confidence in my tone, [That's the plan.]
The climb feels longer than it should; every flight of stairs carries the echo of footsteps, every landing another pair of wary eyes glancing our way, but no one speaks as if afraid of catching the wrong kind of attention.
Halfway up the staircase, Aletha breaks the silence by asking, "You ever wonder if the system pairs us intentionally? To test something specific?"
Hearing her question, I think about it for a few moments before I answer, "Sometimes. The Moon Cell is an observation given form. Every match tells it something about us, our choices, our flaws. Because of that, it's natural to wonder if there is some deliberate choice in the pairings... However, in the end, the Moon Cell's final objective is to observe, gather data, and learn. It may not have any need for randomness. The kind of manipulation you worry about is not something that should happen on a regular basis..."
Aletha hums before she adds in an even tone, "I see... However, there is still the possibility that it may happen for one reason or another..."
This makes me comment, "Anything can happen... We just have to be sure to be found ready when it does."
We finally reach the second floor, and the corridor stretches ahead, bright and sterile.
A crowd has already formed near the bulletin board, the holographic screen flickering with static as it prepares to update while whispered theories ripple through the gathered Masters, names, curses, small prayers.
Nero's voice whispers in my mind, solemn now. [The air before battle always tastes the same... Iron and anticipation.]
At the same time, I hear Aletha murmur, "Oh, shut up... We are going to be fine no matter who our opponent is."
Hearing that, I immediately understand that Aletha is actually talking to her Servant who seems to be somewhat anxious about the upcoming pairings.
We stop a few meters from the board as the flicker stabilizes, the static dissolving into a wall of text. Line by line, the matchups appear, each pair of names glowing for a moment before locking in place.
I scan quickly, eyes tracing the list, heart steady but heavy with expectation while the crowd's murmurs rise, some in relief, others in dread.
Beside me, Aletha's breath catches, at the same time, all my senses fully expands focusing on everything happening around us, the rows of names glowing cold blue against the white wall, Masters shifting uneasily, the hum of SE.RA.PH's endless machinery underscoring it all.
The world holds its breath as the second round of the Holy Grail War officially begins.
And then my gaze lands on the line that bears my name. The next battle has been decided.
Masters: Jayr Pucci vs Helena Harrison
Battleground: The Second Chimeric Lunar Sea