For no reason at all, Munganda ran forward and hugged my left side, pressing her body against me. "No! I don't want Master to die!"
"Goshujin-sama is my very precious Goshujin-sama!" Inferna mirrored her on the right, her arms wrapping around my waist. "I don't want to see you hurt."
I sighed and made an exhausted face.
"Uhm, you girls. I know you are just using this opportunity to grind your crotches against me. Perverts."
They winced, but still continued moving, slowly now.
"And hey, I thought you both would be happy about this." I exhaled, exasperated by the seriousness they used in openly grinding my body, "You know, if I fight someone like Thrúiowre, my Lewd Meter is sure going to plummet."
""!!""
They suddenly stopped and looked at each other, then pulled off from me, becoming more solemn now.
Munganda breathed out. "Master, we should move quickly. Time is not on our side."
She then raised her hand, and the space before us tore open in response, with deep purple edges flickering like liquid on a vibrating surface.
Inferna straightened up, with a suddenly serious face. "Victory awaits you on the other side, Goshujin-sama. Let us go yonder."
"Hehe. Kono hentai." I laughed. "I knew that'd get you pumping."
I started with light exercises; twisting my arms, rolling my shoulders, and cracking my neck.
I was currently wearing my dark pants, with a white collared shirt under a blue unzipped hoodie. It was casual and comfortable.
So everything was ready.
"Let's go irritate that asshole. I'm sure my Lewd Meter will render me into some animal after this… Ah, but are you girls good with bestiality?"
"Whatever form Master takes is still Master." Munganda answered without hesitation.
Inferna nodded once. "Goshujin-sama is Goshujin-sama, whether frog, or slug, or maggot, or bacteria—"
"You can stop dissing me now," I cut in, stepping toward the tear. "After all, I'm the one involved in bestiality with you two… Or rather, monstiality?"
They followed me through without another word, and the purple light swallowed us.
***
Standing still, with they're hands on the hilt of a sword that stood too, was Thrúiowre, the Void Keeper.
In truth, no one ever requested Thrúiowre to do what they have been doing since time immemorial. It just became canon one day that a Titan among titans had taken the mantle of monitoring and policing the spaces between realms, maintaining balance.
And no one knew why they decided to do it too.
The duty was not granted by decree or claimed through conquest; it simply started to exist, like the slow turning of galaxies or the inevitable collapse of stars.
No one thanked Thrúiowre, but likewise, no one questioned them. The void has never needed gratitude, and so Thrúiowre also did not require it.
Around Thrúiowre was complete void and pitch darkness, twinkling stars and the vast expanse of nothing.
The darkness was not just empty; it was so dense, and so tenacious, a type of black so complete that light itself seemed reluctant to linger.
The stars were very distant, unfriendly, and scattered like forgotten jewels across an endless carpet of space. There was no up, no down, no horizon… only the subtle certainty that nothing existed here, and yet everything exists because of it.
Regardless of all this, the silence was piercing, broken only by the faint, almost imperceptible tinkle of the Titan's armor, as if it was breathing in time with the cosmos.
However, the peace and silence was about to be disturbed: a small tear occurred at one corner.
The tear was modest in the beginning: a thin violet slit no wider than a blade of grass. Then it widened with a soundless stretch, as light spilled through the abyss like spilled honey; warm, bold, and utterly out of place with the darkness there.
A scent of cherry blossoms and faint human sweat drifted into the void before anything living did, an intrusion so casual it bordered on insult now.
"Yo, lonely Titan! I've come to play!"
It was their only frequent visitor; the mortal, Kiyoshi Rin. A truly aberrant one too, considering how elusive he could be.
He stepped through the tear as though crossing a doorway rather than breaching the membrane between existence and non-existence.
His casual outfit was noticeably smart and straightened, well pressed white shirt under blue hoodie, and his sneakers pressing nothing as if there was ground beneath him.
His blue hair caught the daylight in faint gleams, from the opened portal. He carried no weapon on him, and his aura wasn't visible…
But only that infuriating grin that said he knew exactly how unwelcome he was and found the fact delightful, shone brightly.
Two figures had followed him, now standing half a step behind: Inferna—the Great Red Dragon of the Elemental Dragon Dynasty, and Munganda—The Legendary Black Serpent of Destruction.
They emerged in perfect silence, with their maid uniforms very pristine despite the journey through hollowness.
Inferna's golden horns glinted under the daylight from the portal, her crimson tail swaying once before calming.
Munganda's black hair floated slightly in the nonexistent currents, her white-slit eyes fixed forward. But both of them, out of remarkably respects, closed their eyes the moment they fully crossed the threshold, with their expressions carved from stone.
They would not interfere with their master's visitation. Whenever they were here in this void, they never did.
"Kiyoshi Rin…" Thrúiowre glanced at Rin, with a sparkly red glow inside the helmet they wore. "I had nearly begun to disremember you, believing you had at long last learned to behave yourself."
The voice rolled out like thunder trapped inside a deep, shuddering cavern; carrying the weight of eons.
The helmet was not mere metal; it was a fragment of dark, condensed space, with two horn-like shapes curving upward like frozen comets.
The red glow within shifted slowly, and almost indolently, as though the Titan were regarding an unruly child who had once again wandered into the wrong room.
Compared to Rin and the two maids with him, Thrúiowre was a hill;
Rin was barely the height of their knee, and Thrúiowre was quite gigantic; wearing thick dark armor that shifted like living space and shadows, and their helmet protruding those two horn-like shapes at the sides, Thrúiowre almost give the impression to be worse than a devil.
The armor plates did not clank or grind; instead, they flowed, with subtle waves of darkness mushrooming across its surface as though the void itself had been poured into shape and hardened. And it may as well had been.
Each subtle shift seemed to send faint gravitational whirlpools outward, tugging at loose strands of Rin's hair and making the maids' skirts flutter minutely before settling again.
"Ara? It sounds like you clearly just missed me," Rin laughed, then sharply locked his blue eyes on them, "let's fight, Thrúiowre."