Mothman's hesitation lasted only a second. He was already breathing hard, the adrenaline from the fight draining away to leave raw confusion. The promise of answers—and the simple need to escape the CENO heat—was enough.
"Fine," he agreed, his face plate snapping shut. "Lead the way, tiger-stripe buns. But if this thing tries to take over, I can't promise I won't blade you."
"Fair enough," I replied, turning away. "Syn, keep up. Mothman, try not to glide into any ramen stands."
I led the way, dropping through the jagged hole and navigating the initial, damp maintenance tunnels that formed the First Layer of Beast Vein City. This layer was the raw infrastructure: vast sewage drains, forgotten utility tunnels, and the occasional fortified, makeshift bunker. It was still dark, dangerous, and mostly populated by the low-tier Splicer crews and the forgotten.
The atmosphere changed completely as we descended into the Second Layer. The tunnels widened into massive, vaulted subterranean halls—the collapsed freeways and stacked civil engineering projects I'd mentioned. This was the busy, beating heart of the city, a vibrant, chaotic echo of human civilization built entirely on bio-enhancement and illicit trade.
Neon moss and crystal growths—fed by the city's bizarre energy sources—cast the entire space in a dizzying array of blues, greens, and vibrant pinks. The air was a cacophony of sound: loud synthetic music, the shouts of vendors, and the mechanical whirring of wheeled vehicles.
"It's like... a shopping mall in a cave," Syn muttered, her eyes wide, still clutching her mini-TV, a stark symbol of the surface world's denial. Noodle stands steamed in makeshift stalls, the air smelling of spiced broth and fried proteins of questionable origin. Crowds flowed between them, a stunning variety of humans displaying their "Beast Crystal Bonded" modifications. We passed Cat-Girls with twitching, expressive ears and long, muscular tails; burly individuals with gorilla-sized arms and hardened dermal plates; and subtle, unnerving figures whose joints flexed at impossible angles. It was a carnival of personalized evolution.
Mothman, despite his impressive armored suit, moved with palpable tension, clearly unused to this world. He was an outsider here, too. "Keep your head down," I warned him. "That suit is military-grade. You'll attract the wrong kind of attention."
We skirted a crowded corner where the commerce was more focused: a row of Splicer Body Modification Shops. The air here hummed with the sound of micro-saws and the scent of antiseptics and fresh scar tissue. One sign, crudely lit by a flickering lumen-spore lantern, simply read: CRAGG THISTLEWIRE - AUGMENTS & ADJUSTMENTS.
"Cragg's a good cutter," I noted, "but he asks too many questions. We keep moving." We continued our descent into the Third Layer. The crowd thinned out, the commerce became shadier, and the light grew dimmer. This area housed the black market and the more serious clan territories, a clear step down into the shadows. The floor was rougher, littered with discarded tech and bone shards.
I led them to a quiet, forgotten service junction—a dead end road. I stopped at a heavily reinforced, unmarked manhole cover, distinguishable only by the small, unique scratch pattern I knew to look for. I braced my hands on the cold metal. With a grunt and some elbow grease I lifted the heavy lid up and away. "Level 4B," I announced, pulling the manhole lid back over the opening with a heavy thud, plunging the space into near-total darkness before the soft, ambient light of my territory kicked in.
The air rising from the hole was cooler, cleaner, and carried the faint, distant noise of flowing water—the true drainage system that fed my base. I waved them toward the drop, my face grim. "Alright. Down here is Level 4B.
I looked directly at both of them standing close together, faces illuminated by the green glow of the exposed Beast City manhole, they stood stunned. "Welcome to the Gutter." I said cheerfully smiling.
I slid down the cold, rusting rungs of the ladder first, testing the stability before Syn followed, assisted by Mothman's armored hand on her back. The descent was a solid thirty feet, landing us on a narrow catwalk made of repurposed steel grate.
The air here was a profound change from the layers above: cool, sterile, and faintly smelling of ozone and mineral deposits. I set a quick, zig-zagging pace, leading them down a twisting series of maintenance tunnels and collapsed sewer lines, moving deeper into the structural decay of the city's forgotten foundation. Mothman's single-wheeled skates made soft, rhythmic whispers on the concrete, and Syn was surprisingly agile.
Finally, we rounded a sharp, unexpected bend, and the tunnel opened into a truly massive space—a section of cavernous, reinforced earth stabilized by vast, curving steel supports that looked like the ribs of some ancient, buried Leviathan.
The floor was a mosaic of salvaged metal plating and clean-poured polymer. Everywhere, delicate, crystalline growths shimmered, glowing with an internal, electric-blue light that cast intricate, dynamic shadows. These weren't the neon fungi of the upper layers; this was controlled, engineered growth, humming with low-level power.
"Welcome to my home," I said, gesturing to the expanse with a proud, possessive sweep of my hand. My voice dropped slightly as I continued the explanation. "This territory is officially recognized by other clans as the Gutter Nest."
I took a final step into the glowing light, my tiger stripes catching the reflections of the blue crystals.
"But I've always privately called it the Magnetic Garden."
My voice had barely finished the word "Magnetic Garden" when a disturbance rippled through the ambient blue light.
A shadow detached itself from the high ceiling above. The domed cavern roof was covered in massive chunks of crystalline smoky quartz. It was Medusa Marla, hanging upside down like a bat, completely still except for the low hiss of her black bio-steel wings.
Marla was covered in the oily sheen of her snake oil, and her long vipers, normally dormant, were twitching with latent energy. The crimson glow of her eyes was magnified in the near-darkness. She was the ultimate security system. Mothman's body language instantly shifted from confusion to threat. He crouched, his hands moving toward the sonic blades at his elbows. Syn gasped, scrambling backward.
Marla dropped silently from the quartz, landing lightly on the metallic floor in a defensive crouch a few feet from the group, her form blocking the path deeper into the base.
"Intruders!" she hissed, her voice low and dangerous. The vipers atop her head reared up, eyes glowing green, their wicked pink tongues flicking out, tasting the air for fear. The green glow of the vipers' eyes pointed directly at Mothman.
I sighed, shaking my head. "Marla. Stand down."
Her head didn't move, her red eyes locked on the Xun'dral unit.
"He's with me," I insisted, stepping smoothly between Marla and Mothman. "Stand down, Marla." As I looked at her glowing red eyes, I realized the situation was worse than a simple warning. Marla was in some sort of bizarre trance!
"The Control Rod" I thought to myself, instantly reaching for it. "Damnit, whats going on? Why is she resisting me? Or is this natural? I thought, my mind racing. Is this why the Forge said I'd have to 'train my pets.' Is this just a natural part of... this... path?"
I took the control rod hanging between my cleavage, grasping the violet crystal in my dominant hand. I walked slowly up to Marla. The glow in her eyes wasn't just vigilance; it was a kind of mindless aggression. I couldn't risk freeing her from the control system—she was too dangerous.
I focused my psychic intent into the dark violet rod, which began to glow purple. A rush of guilty pleasure, a tingling sensation of strange fire, awakened within me. I looked at Marla, a devious smile spreading over my girlish, asymmetrical features.
"What's this? Has my pet forgotten me so soon?" I padded the rod against my palm as I sashayed up to Marla, who still paid me no attention, zoned in on the frozen Mothman. I walked into her personal space, pressing my body up tight against hers and wrapped an arm around her waist so she couldn't flee from what came next. Her slick, oily skin was tight against my armor, making my heart pound harder.
"That's okay, my pet," I purred. "I'll enjoy making you remember me again."
I slid the rod gently down between our bodies, condensing my Intent into a pinpoint at the tip, and sent out a crushing wave of pleasure.
We both gasped involuntarily! The red glow in Marla's eyes broke, and her whole body shuddered in my grasp, her oily, scaly form twisting. I jumped up, wrapping my legs around her waist. She reached up, digging both of her taloned hands into my shoulders. I increased my intent into the rod, amplifying the waves of pleasure. Marla's wings spasmed.
I reached up with my left hand and gripped the back of her head. I could feel the skin of her vipers shifting under my fingers as I pulled her head back, exposing her voluptuous neck, which I began to suck and bite, leaving hickies all over. Marla gasped and moaned as I teethed her neck. The red glow in her eyes entirely faded away now. "It's working!" I thought to myself.
I could feel Marla's orgone energy gathering in her base chakra point. I focused my intent through the rod, resolving to finish this training session by dragging her climax up to her throat chakra. Just then, through the crashing waves of pleasure, Marla came to her senses.
"Ahh—oooh—mmm—whu—huh—Ash!"
Marla's eyes became large, bearing a mixture of emotions. It was true she resented me for her humiliating defeat and the forced augmentation, but now those hard feelings were clashing with the waves of intense pleasure I was training her with. Her face bore a look of both hatred and hunger.
That's when I isolated her orgone energy climax. I felt the rod seize her climax just as I began to slide the rod up into her sacral, or svadhishthana, chakra. Marla inhaled sharply as her whole body began to quake!
I twisted the rod into her belly button, still wrapped around her with my legs, when I felt something wet gush from between us. Marla broke out into a full-body sweat, and a loose expression overcame her features. Her pink tongue shot out as she began to pant.
I teased her: "Watch out, Marla, if you keep sticking out that pretty tongue, I might just suck on it..."
"Ye—Yes, Master Ash!" Marla shouted as waves of pleasure rocked her sacral chakra point. I adjusted my half-straddle. My right eyebrow shot up as I ribbed her again.
"Ah, there you are again. It's good to have you back with us, Marla."
I slowly dismounted from Marla, who stood trembling in the throes of pleasure, still twisting the control rod tip in her belly button. "Looks like I won't have to drag your orgone climax up to your throat chakra after all, unless you would like that."
Marla's face went bright pink as she inhaled sharply between her teeth. "Y-You don't! Ahhhhh! You don't need to do that, Master Ash!"
I smiled. "Don't ever be naughty like that again, my pet! You acted like you didn't even remember me, and that hurt." I removed the control rod from Marla's belly button.
Marla crumpled to one knee. All of her vipers writhed about as both she and her snakes panted to regain control.
I waved at Doctor Syn and Mothman, who were slowly straightening up. "Welcome! It's safe now. I deactivated the security system," I said dryly to Mothman. "Don't take it personally. She's just doing her job."