Two hundred years after the first spilt coffee in a midtown copy room, the Voss-Reed vertical city had become a living constellation orbiting Manhattan, five spires now braided together by sky-bridges of living light that pulsed with the heartbeats of twenty thousand descendants. Alex stood on the highest deck, open to the stars, wearing nothing but the merged wedding band and the galaxy tattoo that wrapped his torso like a map of every soul who had ever chosen to love without fear. Eternal Reign had kept him, Damian, and the original court forever thirty-five, bodies untouched by time, spirits expanded until the concept of "age" felt like a quaint relic from the straight-world era.
Damian arrived through a shimmer of moonlight, barefoot, wearing only the matching band and a smile that still made Alex's knees weak after centuries. He pressed against Alex's back, arms circling his waist exactly as on coronation dawn, chin on shoulder, voice a warm murmur against his ear. "The Eternal Waltz begins again tonight, Emperor. Twenty thousand souls. One floor. One song that never ends."
Alex turned, cupping Damian's face, kissing him until the stars blurred. "We are no longer the lead couple. We are the music itself."
Below, the grand atrium had evolved into the Eternal Floor: a single seamless surface that spanned all five spires, shifting underfoot from cloud-soft to firm grip to liquid warmth depending on the dancer's desire. Walls were gone; only horizon and sky remained, the city far below a necklace of lights worn by a world that had forgotten shame centuries ago.
**[Dynasty Era | Eternal Emperor: Alex Voss-Reed | Eternal Waltz Progress: 0/∞ SP]**
**[Active Perks: All Eternal + New Eternal Perks: Waltz of Souls (Lv1) – Partners may merge consciousness for the length of one dance. Memory Weave (Lv1) – Every shared climax adds a new star to the family galaxy tattoo.]**
Tie materialised on a passing comet wearing a tuxedo made of nebulae. "Final infinite spin, Dad. Every heartbeat +∞ SP. Let the floor decide the tempo, or the empire forgets it was ever allowed to stop."
The Eternal Waltz began without announcement, simply because the first couple (a great-great-grandchild of Amir and a descendant of Lucien's couture line) stepped onto the floor and moved. Music arose from the floor itself: a living composition that sampled every moan, laugh, and sigh the dynasty had ever made, remixed into something new with each revolution.
Twenty thousand souls flooded the space in waves of colour-shifting silk that declared nothing and everything. Identities had long since transcended labels; robes flowed like liquid starlight, changing with mood, partner, or whim. Some danced clothed, some naked, some in harnesses of light, some in nothing but the arms of loved ones. Infants floated in anti-grav pods above, cooing in four-part harmony. Elders who had chosen gentle ageing rocked in swings of memory vines, smiling at memories only they still carried.
Alex and Damian entered last, hand in hand, barefoot on the living floor. The moment their feet touched, the entire surface rippled outward in concentric waves of warmth, greeting its creators. Descendants parted like a loving sea, then closed behind them, drawing the original pair into the heart of the dance.
---[EXPLICIT]---
The Waltz of Souls ignited without ceremony. Alex and Damian merged first (consciousnesses sliding together like puzzle pieces worn smooth by centuries of perfect fit). In that shared mindspace, they were twenty-five again, trembling in the copy room, and thirty-five on coronation night, and every age between and beyond. They danced as one body with two hearts, leading and following in the same breath.
Around them, souls paired and re-paired in fluid constellations:
A descendant of Victoria and Kyle (dominant-leaning switch) collared a fluid heir of Khalid mid-spin, the click echoing like the first merger orgasm.
Three cousins of Elias's line formed a living circuit, bodies linking hands to feet to mouths, consciousnesses merging into a single glowing entity that spun like a galaxy.
Layla (eternal and radiant) danced with Amir and his consort, mother leading son leading grandchild in a chain that flipped dominance every eight beats, laughter rising with the music.
Lucien's great-great-granddaughter designed harnesses of light that reconfigured themselves with each dip, binding and releasing partners in couture consent.
Bodies moved closer, then apart, then closer again. The floor warmed to body temperature, texture shifting to cradle bare feet or provide delicious friction. Partners who wished intimacy drifted into private orbits (crystal memory orbs no longer needed; the sky itself now caught perfect moments in auroras that replayed for anyone who looked up).
Alex and Damian's merged form drifted to the exact centre, where the original copy machine floated in a sphere of preserved air (sticky note still reading "Dream big"). They separated consciousness gently, bodies pressing skin to skin, mouths meeting in a kiss that tasted of every century shared. Damian lifted Alex effortlessly (eternal strength making gravity optional), lowering him onto the living floor that rose to meet them like a lover's hands.
They made love in the heart of the dance, slow and reverent, every thrust a vow renewed. Alex entered Damian first, then spun so Damian took him, centuries of practice making the transition seamless. Around them, the floor rippled outward with each movement, sending waves of pleasure through every dancer's feet. Orgasms cascaded like dominoes made of starlight: a dominant great-grandchild coming untouched as their submissive partner knelt mid-dip, a fluid couple merging consciousness and climax into a single supernova, an elder couple (who had chosen gentle ageing) weeping soft tears of joy as their great-great-grandchildren danced rings around them.
The music swelled, sampling the exact frequency of Alex and Damian's shared climax (a note that had become the empire's anthem). They came together, seed and reception meaningless in the merge, only the pulse of perfect union mattered. The floor drank it in, blooming into a garden of light that spread to every spire, every bridge, every descendant's skin.
Memory Weave activated across twenty thousand bodies: new stars igniting in every family galaxy tattoo, the night's shared ecstasy etched permanently into living skin.
The dance never stopped. It simply slowed, then quickened, then slowed again, an eternal tide. Some dancers drifted off to sleep in mid-spin, caught gently by the floor and cradled like infants. Others began again with new partners, new configurations, new expressions of the same ancient truth: love chooses its own steps.
Dawn found Alex and Damian still moving, though the concept of "night" and "day" had long since become optional under the dome. They danced barefoot on a floor that now showed the original sticky note projected beneath their feet, magnified to cover the entire atrium:
"Dream big.
Love bigger.
Dance forever."
They do.