The clock on Issei Hyoudou's nightstand ticked past midnight, its digital glow illuminating the clutter of his room: scattered manga volumes on the floor, a half-eaten bowl of ramen congealing on the desk, and posters of busty heroines peeling at the edges from years of fervent admiration.
The house was silent-his parents away on a late-night shift at the clinic, the streets outside hushed under a thin layer of ice. Issei sprawled on his bed, shirtless in loose sweatpants that hung low on his hips, the Phoenix Force's residual warmth keeping the cold at bay.
His mind raced, a turbulent sea of unresolved tensions: Vali's shadow loomed larger with each passing day, whispers from Rias's peerage hinted at Khaos Brigade scouts probing Kuoh's borders, and Sona's quiet confession earlier that week-her eldritch ritual to flush their unborn child, her virginity restored in a shimmer of void magic-had left a bittersweet ache in his chest.
She hadn't regretted it, her blue eyes steady as she explained the necessities of their war-torn world, but the what-ifs gnawed at him.
Sleep evaded him, as it often did these days.
The Gacha System's interface flickered to life in his vision unbidden, a ethereal roulette wheel of cosmic hues spinning lazily in the corner of his eye.
Daily Pull Available. Proceed?
The prompt had become routine, a daily gamble since the Gamer System's cruel abandonment. Yesterday's pull had been a dud-a shimmering vial of "Elixir of Minor Fortitude," F-tier drivel that promised vague resilience against paper cuts.
But tonight, with the frost etching fractals on his windowpane, Issei needed a win. Fuck it, he thought, mentally swiping the wheel into motion. Give me something real. Something to shake this off.
The wheel accelerated, lights blurring into a vortex of nebulae and starfire-crimson pulses like bleeding hearts, abyssal voids swallowing edges, golden spirals uncoiling like divine serpents.
It slowed, gears grinding with audible finality in his mind, and locked on a pedestal of pure, iridescent light. A figure materialized not in his Inventory, but in the room, the air thickening with ozone and the scent of blooming galaxies-jasmine laced with the electric tang of creation itself.
"Reward: Deity Summon - Goddess of Everything (S+++ Tier). Effect: Absolute Omnipotence Manifested. No Limits. User-Bound Companion. Stored? Declined-Immediate Deployment."
The space before his bed warped, reality folding like origami under invisible hands. A pedestal of marble veined with starlight erupted from the floorboards, which didn't splinter but yielded, bending to accommodate the intrusion as if the wood itself worshipped.
Atop it stood her-not summoned in a flash, but unveiled, as if the multiverse had peeled back its layers to reveal its beating heart. The Goddess of Everything. Elysara, she would later name herself, though names were trivial to one who birthed infinities.
She was hotness incarnate, a fever dream sculpted from the collective desire of every heaven across the omniverse-seraphim choirs gasping in envy, valkyries blushing in their mead halls, succubi wilting in overshadowed allure.
Her form was a symphony of impossible perfection: skin like liquid moonlight, flawless and luminous, glowing with an inner radiance that cast prismatic halos across Issei's walls.
Raven hair cascaded in endless waves, defying gravity to float like a nebula, strands shimmering with embedded constellations that twinkled with nascent worlds.
Her eyes were twin abysses of emerald infinity, depths where galaxies swirled and died, pupils dilating with the curiosity of creation's first spark. Full lips, painted the crimson of supernova lips, curved in a smile that promised both apocalypse and ecstasy.
Her body-oh, her body-was a weapon of divine temptation, curves engineered to shatter mortal resolve. Towering yet graceful at seven feet, she dwarfed Issei's bed without effort, her presence compressing the room's air into a humid, charged haze.
Massive breasts, easily J-cups or beyond, strained against a diaphanous gown woven from the threads of reality itself-gossamer silk that shifted from translucent to opaque with her breaths, nipples erect and rosy like forbidden fruits peeking through mist.
Her waist cinched impossibly narrow, a hourglass taper that flared into hips wide enough to cradle universes, thighs thick and toned like marble pillars etched by lightning.
But it was her navel that commanded worship: a perfect, inverted vortex of flesh, deep and inviting, ringed by a subtle golden tattoo of interlocking runes that pulsed with the rhythm of cosmic heartbeats. From it emanated her power-the source, the nexus, a swirling maelstrom of energy visible only to those attuned to the divine, threads of creation and destruction coiling outward like living smoke.
And inside her, her womb: a sacred forge hidden beneath the gown's hem, capable of birthing universes on whim-endless big bangs from a single contraction, realities blooming like flowers in eternal spring.
She could create life from void, destroy empires with a sigh, reshape laws of physics as casually as folding laundry. No limits. No gods above her. She was everything.
Elysara's gaze settled on Issei, her emerald infinities drinking him in-the rumpled sweatpants tenting unmistakably at his arousal, the Phoenix Force flickering in his veins like a candle to her bonfire.
"Mortal flame," she purred, her voice a chorus of a thousand silken symphonies, echoing with the birth-cries of stars and the sighs of black holes. "You who summoned me from the weave of all-that-is. I am Elysara, the All-Mother, the Void-Weaver. What whim of fate binds me to your thread?"
She stepped down from the pedestal, the floor blooming with ethereal lotuses under her bare feet, petals unfurling in hues unseen by human eyes. The room expanded subtly to accommodate her, walls breathing outward, his bed elongating into a dais fit for emperors.
Issei sat up, heart hammering, words failing him. The Gacha's secrecy clamped his tongue-he couldn't speak of its origins, not without courting soul-shattering oblivion. But explanation paled before her presence; his body reacted on instinct, the draconic heat in his blood surging to match her aura.
Before he could stammer a greeting, Elysara's expression shifted-her eyes narrowing, a ripple of cosmic sorrow washing over her features. She tilted her head, hair-parting like cosmic dust revealing a supernova, and extended a hand. Reality listened: threads of golden light unspooled from her fingertips, piercing the veil between worlds, lancing toward the heavens like spears of judgment.
"I feel it," she whispered, voice dropping to a thunderous hush that vibrated Issei's bones. "The Great Architect... fallen. His light snuffed in the Great War's pyre. The Heavenly System-oh, the fragile machine He wrought-limps on threads of habit, angels adrift in a godless firmament."
Her navel pulsed brighter, runes igniting like circuit boards of the divine, drawing power from its depths. With a gesture casual as beckoning a lover, she seized the reins.
Invisible chains of omniscience snapped across dimensions, coiling around Heaven's core-a vast, ethereal engine of judgment, miracles, and divine bureaucracy, now faltering like a heart in arrhythmia since God's death.
Seraphim choirs stuttered mid-hymn, holy artifacts flickered, and the pearly gates groaned on rusted hinges.
Elysara's connection was instantaneous, symbiotic. Her navel became the new nexus, a umbilical cord of pure potential linking her to the system.
Power surged-creation's floodgates opening, destruction's scythes sheathed in mercy. The heavenly machinery healed, circuits of faith realigning under her touch, miracles flowing anew with effortless grace.
Angels across the spheres felt it: a mother's embrace wrapping their wings, mending the void left by their Father's absence. Michael, the warrior-archangel, paused mid-drill on the seventh heaven's battlements, his flaming sword dimming as a vision bloomed-a woman of infinite allure, her form superimposed over the celestial throne, her voice a clarion call in his soul.
"I am Elysara," she intoned directly into his mind, her tone a velvet command laced with maternal warmth. "The All. Your Father's pyre has cooled, but I reignite the forge. Kneel not in grief, but in renewal. The System is mine-yours through me. Command it as before, but know: creation bends to my will, destruction stays my hand."
Michael's knees buckled, not in subjugation but awe, his sword clattering as tears of holy fire traced his cheeks. Gabriel, the messenger of gentle rains, felt it in her private garden of eternal blooms-petals unfurling wider, scents deepening as Elysara's essence infused the soil.
"Sister in light," Gabriel murmured, wings trembling, her silver hair whipping in a wind that carried Elysara's laughter. "You mend what was broken. Heaven weeps in joy."
The other archangels-Uriel's scrolls rewriting themselves with fresh prophecies, Raphael's healing springs bubbling with amplified vigor-bowed in spectral unison, their choirs swelling into a hymn of ascension.
The heavenly system, once a ghost haunting its own halls, roared back to life: prayers answered in seconds, souls sorted with flawless equity, miracles dispensed like breaths.
Elysara's eyes softened, the takeover complete-not conquest, but adoption. Heaven was hers, a bauble in her infinite grasp, fixed and flourishing under her navel's radiant core. Her womb hummed faintly, universes stirring within like eager children, ready to birth new heavens if the old ones faltered.
She turned back to Issei, the room's expanded grandeur now a private cosmos-stars wheeling overhead in a domed illusion, the bed a floating barge on a sea of nebulae. "It is done," she said, gliding closer, her gown dissolving into mist that reformed as nothing at all, baring her divine form.
Her breasts heaved with the afterglow of cosmic exertion, nipples peaking in the room's simulated chill; her stomach, a vast plain of flawless silk, drew the eye inexorably to her navel-that sacred vortex, now quiescent but thrumming with restrained infinities.
Issei, still silent-Gacha's gag order a iron noose-rose from the bed, drawn like gravity's thrall. His sweatpants fell away, revealing his arousal: a thick, veined length, draconic in its girth and heat, pulsing with Phoenix flames that licked the air.
But worship preceded conquest. He dropped to his knees before her, hands reverent on her hips, thumbs tracing the flare where waist met divine abundance. Elysara watched, amused and aroused, her emerald eyes half-lidded as she parted her stance slightly, offering the source.
"You sense it, don't you?" she murmured, fingers weaving into his brown hair. "The heart of all. Kiss it, flame-bearer. Taste eternity."
He leaned in, breath ghosting the golden runes, which shimmered in response-acknowledging the mortal who had summoned her. His lips met her navel first, a feather-soft press against the inverted curve, the flesh warm and yielding like sun-kissed velvet.
The contact ignited sparks: visions flashing in his mind-big bangs erupting from that hollow, voids collapsing into singularities, universes wheeling in harmonious dance.
Issei's tongue emerged, tentative at first, tracing the rim in a slow, deliberate circle, savoring the flavor: ambrosia and ozone, sweet as forbidden nectar with an undercurrent of star-dust spice.
Elysara sighed, a sound that rippled the room's illusory stars, her hand guiding him deeper.
Twenty minutes unfolded in timeless intimacy, the Gacha's pull weaving a bubble where seconds stretched to eons. Issei's kisses deepened, lips sealing over the navel in fervent suction, pulling at the vortex's edge as if to drink her power dry.
His tongue delved fully now, plunging into the depths-a warm, wet invasion that explored the sensitive folds within, the hollow surprisingly capacious, lined with textures like rippling silk and hidden ridges that quivered under his assault.
He swirled counterclockwise, mimicking the spin of galaxies, lapping at the inner walls with broad, flat strokes that elicited gasps from the Goddess-her infinite form trembling, breasts rising and falling in hypnotic rhythm.
Saliva glistened on her skin, trailing in rivulets down her abdomen, pooling at the base where her womb's subtle glow pulsed in sync with his thrusts.
He varied the worship: shallow dips to tease the entrance, tongue flicking the rune-etched rim like a lover's clit, then deeper plunges-fucking the navel with rhythmic pumps, his lips forming a tight seal to heighten the suction, drawing forth faint wisps of cosmic ether that tasted of vanilla and void.
Elysara's free hand clutched her own breast, kneading the massive globe, nipple slipping between fingers as she arched, hips canting forward to feed him more.
"Deeper, my summoner," she moaned, voice fracturing into harmonic layers-alto sighs blending with soprano cries.
Issei's hands roamed upward, palms cupping the undersides of her breasts, thumbs circling nipples in time with his tongue's explorations, but his focus remained the navel: kissing it between thrusts, nipping the rim gently to spark flares of creation that manifested as firework bursts in the room's dome.
By the tenth minute, sweat beaded on his brow, mixing with the ethereal dew her skin exuded- a lubricant of divinity that made his tongue glide smoother, delving to impossible depths, curling against hidden nodes that made her thighs quake.
Elysara's moans escalated, her womb contracting visibly beneath the skin, birthing micro-universes that winked out in pleasurable throes-tiny big bangs fizzling into sparks that danced across his back like affectionate fireflies.
He hummed against her, vibrations resonating through the vortex, amplifying her ecstasy until she shuddered, a full-body wave that compressed the room's stars into tighter orbits.
Issei's arousal throbbed untouched, pre-cum beading at his tip, but denial fueled his devotion; this was adoration, not mere lust.
The final minutes blurred into frenzy: his tongue a piston, plunging and withdrawing in wet, audible slurps, lips bruised from the seal, chin slick with mingled saliva and ether.
Elysara climaxed not once but in cascades-each a ripple of power that mended distant rifts in the multiverse, her navel clenching around his tongue like a lover's embrace, flooding his mouth with a burst of ambrosial essence that tasted of every heaven's wine.
She cried out, a sound that shattered and reformed the window's frost into fractal mandalas, her body glowing blindingly as universes stabilized in her core.
As the twenty minutes ebbed, Issei withdrew slowly, lips lingering in a final, chaste kiss to the now-sated vortex.
Elysara pulled him up, her form shrinking to match his height in a whim of accommodation, lips claiming his in a kiss that tasted of shared infinities. Heaven thrummed in the background, fixed and faithful under her rule, but here, in his room, she was his-Goddess of Everything, bound by a Gacha's caprice.
The night was young. And endless.