The low, throbbing hum that emanated from Pulse filled the private training room. His fingers were pressed against the crystalline shell of Crystara's back. He wasn't just massaging; he was using his mastery of vibration to send deep, penetrating frequencies through her unique, durable physiology.
"Things are going quite well," Pulse murmured, his voice low and focused.
He shifted his concentration, attempting to pierce the opacity of her crystal body with sheer force of will and focused energy. Now, he could see not with his eyes, but with a neurological echo deep inside her structure. And there it was again.
A point of light, tightly coiled and aggressively resonant, located near the center of her being, acting like a second, energy-based heart. It was unlike any natural organ. Perhaps it was a manifestation of her Awakened power, or perhaps something else entirely. It emitted a constant, high-frequency resonance that seemed to interact directly with Pulse's own vibration waves, amplifying them twenty-fold.
But as his curiosity surged, the intensity of the internal scrutiny felt dangerous. He immediately pulled back, dialing down that subconscious visual focus. He would not risk injuring Crystara through reckless curiosity.
Meanwhile, the overwhelming physical sensations caused by his serious application of power had pushed Crystara past the point of simple relaxation. The localized seismic activity against her nerve endings was exquisitely agonizing. Her moans, initially quiet and shy, began to swell, becoming drawn-out cries of pure, helpless euphoria.
Pulse started to seriously work the full extent of her back and shoulders. The crystalline skin, which usually resisted even heavy kinetic attack, now seemed to transmit the oscillating waves perfectly. The vibration dismantled her tension layer by layer, replacing it with an overwhelming, narcotic pleasure that pulsed up her spine and saturated her brain.
The feeling became too much. Her back arched violently, a primal, guttural noise escaping her throat as her muscles convulsed. She was completely trapped in the extremity of the sensation, her body momentarily out of her control.
Her hands flew up. One clamped desperately over her mouth to stifle the escalating, indecent noise; the other, trembling violently, reached downward, fingers tentatively brushing the hem of her short shorts, seeking to anchor the rising tide of internal chaos.
"What are you two doing?"
The crisp, cutting voice of Celestial Muse shattered the moment.
Crystara moved with impossible speed. One moment she was arched, gasping; the next, she had sprung to her feet, spun around, and stood ramrod straight, all traces of vulnerability wiped clean from her face. Pulse, momentarily startled, barely registered the swiftness of her transition.
He looked over his shoulder at Celestial Muse, who stood framed in the doorway, her sleek, tactical and revealing hero suit accentuating her commanding presence.
"Just massaging," Pulse stated plainly, wiping a layer of synthetic sweat from his brow.
Muse's gaze was already fixed on Crystara, piercing through her composure. "For a massage, you're getting turned on, Crystara."
Pulse blinked. "She does? I thought, she's just enjoying my massaging skills."
Crystara's glare was ice-cold. "Oh, shut the fuck up, Muse. I would like to see you try being massaged by Pulse before judging. And why are you here? I thought there was serious paperwork and interviews about the recent incident."
Muse, displaying her characteristic combination of alluring confidence and discipline, waved a dismissive hand. "Well, I was about to dive into the mountain of reports when suddenly my parents arrived without notice. They immediately started dealing with the political fallout. They're much better at that kind of cleanup. I still have paperwork, but it's a lot fewer now. I could just do those later."
Muse approached the slab where Pulse was still sitting, radiating an easy, almost predatory charm. She sat down directly in front of him, stretching her arms above her head, the movement emphasizing the lines of her tightly fitted armor.
"I would definitely love a massage right now," Muse said, meeting his gaze with an inviting challenge. "Is it alright, Pulse? I feel like I might have earned one."
"Absolutely," Pulse replied, trying to keep his composure despite the recent revelation of her internal affairs being handled by 'mom and dad.' "I would love to actually massage Celestial Muse herself."
Celestial Muse laughed, a rich, genuine sound. "Okay then."
Pulse did not hesitate. He placed his hands on her bare forearms and immediately engaged his ability. He needed only a fraction of his usual power to affect her.
The moment the vibration hit Muse, her breath hitched. Her eyes widened, a flicker of shock passing across her features. She was conditioned for rigorous battlefield control, but no amount of discipline could suppress the neurological takeover caused by the deep, resonant oscillation.
A low, involuntary moan escaped her lips instantly. She tried to swallow it, but the sound was already gone. Unlike Crystara, whose crystal body absorbed and transmitted the waves in unique ways, Muse's body seemed to respond almost violently, every muscle group singing in a chorus of sudden, overwhelming release. Her control vanished in a staggering rush of unexpected euphoria, and she was already getting wet at an astonishing rate, the sensation building quickly into a dizzying rush.
While maintaining the necessary, mesmerizing frequency, Pulse carefully extended his perception inward again, seeking the mysterious resonant core.
He found it immediately. It was in the same central location as Crystara's, but here, inside Celestial Muse, the 'organ' was exponentially more active. It was blindingly bright, its frequency so strong and chaotic that it felt like staring directly into a contained lightning storm. The sheer power radiating from it threatened to overwhelm Pulse's own senses, a wave of energy that felt both exhilarating and potentially destructive. He pulled his connection back instantly, realizing that this internal source was far stronger and more dangerous in the Director than it was in Crystara.
He continued the massage, keeping the external frequency focused, letting Muse ride the tidal wave of sensation.
After what felt like an eternity of suppressed, wet gasps and involuntary shudders, Muse suddenly dropped forward, her legs failing. She crawled slowly away from Pulse on the slab, shaking her head, trying to clear the sudden, narcotic fog.
She pushed herself up, her legs visibly unsteady beneath her. "That was... great, Pulse. Truly overwhelming."
Crystara, who had been watching the scene unfold with barely contained smugness, smirked. "It felt so good, does it, Muse? What do you say now, huh? Want some cigarette after massage?" Crystara chuckled, enjoying her colleague's temporary loss of composure.
Muse composed herself, pushing a stray strand of hair back into place. "Thanks... for the massage, Pulse. If you'll excuse me for now."
She didn't walk; she launched. Celestial Muse flew out of the training ground with abrupt, powerful speed, heading directly toward her office or perhaps a private shower.
Crystara turned back to Pulse, a predatory grin settling on her face. "Nice work," she said, nodding approvingly.
Pulse felt genuinely surprised by the reaction of the usually unflappable director. "Was it... that good?" he asked.
"It fucking is," Crystara stated flatly. "You could use that ability of yours to start a massage parlor, seriously." She laughed. "Kidding. Try not to touch others with your vibrator hand, Pulse."
Crystara's gaze drifted lower, settling momentarily on the front of Pulse's light armor, where his crotch was concealed. She shifted her weight, a hesitant curiosity coloring her tone. "Can you... can you make your dick vibrate?"
"Okay, that's fucking enough, Crystara," Pulse said, standing up quickly. "I'm going back to my room and getting ready for tomorrow."
Crystara burst into laughter, doubling over. "Holy shit, why haven't I thought of it before? You literally could call yourself The Vibrator Man!"
Pulse leaned in, a teasing half-smile playing on his lips. "Yeah, no wonder it felt good, wasn't it, huh, Crystara?" he retorted, injecting a suggestive tone into his voice.
Crystara stopped laughing, meeting his gaze with a frank intensity. "It sure fucking does."
"Okay, I'm going."
"Let's go then."
Pulse and Crystara left the training wing and walked the short distance back to their residential unit. As they rounded the corner, they bumped into Revara, who was just about to enter the unit next door, pushing a heavily laden trolley.
Revara, a newer Awakened they had recently rescued from a Revenant threat, smiled warmly. "Hey! Thanks again for saving me."
"No problem," Pulse replied immediately. "But I'd advise that you'd still be careful in this building. There might be a Revenant spy lurking somewhere, they got close once."
Revara nodded seriously. "Will do, Pulse. Thanks again. You guys should come visit us sometime since you're just next door."
"Thanks Revara, but we planned on going to Kharavel tomorrow," Crystara interjected. "So we'll be out for a while."
"Alright then, stay safe out there," Revara said, maneuvering the trolley into her open doorway.
Pulse and Crystara then entered their shared unit, the door sealing shut behind them with a muffled click. The air instantly felt private and charged after the day's strange events.
Crystara dropped her light bag onto the floor, her eyes immediately finding Pulse's. Her teasing demeanor was gone, replaced by a sharp, probing seriousness. She knew Pulse had been focused too intently earlier, his gaze not just on her muscles, but through her.
"So," Crystara asked, the single word cutting through the quiet. "What happened? Why does your touch feel... so fucking good?"