The Hollow Spire chamber still reeked of river damp and spent power—ozone sharp in the air, stone floor slick with water and the faint metallic tang of blood from split knuckles. The cracked obelisk pulsed faintly, like a heart under glass, its black surface rippling every few seconds with something trying to push through.
The four sisters stood in a loose circle around it—clothes torn, skin flushed from the Mirror Order's ambush and their own counter-claim. Silver veins glowed brighter now, threads linking them visibly: thin luminous strands weaving between chests, wrists, thighs. The ritual reversal had done more than humiliate the rivals—it had supercharged their bond.
Lilith wiped a streak of blood from her lip—Nadia's parting gift. "We finish this tonight. The spire's cracked. One more push and the rift opens. We go straight for his core."
Seraphina flexed her fingers—still tingling from pinning Freya. "And if he sends something through before we're ready?"
Irina checked her pistol—magazine half-empty. "Then we feed on it."
Vesper knelt by the obelisk, tracing the widening fissure with a fingertip. Blue-white light leaked from inside—cold, otherworldly. "The ritual of four needs intent. Blood. Unity. We have to give it everything—body, mind, soul. No holding back."
Lilith met each of their eyes. "Then we don't hold back."
They stripped what remained of their clothes—practical, unceremonious. Coats, torn shirts, jeans, underwear discarded in a damp pile. Naked except for boots and the silver veins that now covered them like living tattoos—curling over breasts, hips, inner thighs, pulsing in time with their heartbeats.
They formed a ring around the spire—facing inward, hands clasped.
Vesper spoke the words from the codex—ancient Greek laced with something older, syllables that tasted like iron on the tongue.
"By blood of the marked, by thread of the harvested, by will of the unbroken—we call the rift."
They sliced palms with Lilith's rune-etched dagger—quick, shallow cuts. Blood welled—dark, shimmering with silver. They pressed palms together—blood mingling, threads flaring brighter.
The chamber trembled.
Power surged—hot, electric, running up arms, across chests, down spines. It pooled low—between thighs, in bellies, behind eyes.
Lilith stepped into the center first—back to the spire. The others followed—forming a tight circle around her.
Hands roamed.
Seraphina pressed against Lilith's front—breasts to breasts, lips finding her neck. Irina flanked left—fingers tracing silver lines down Lilith's ribs, then lower, sliding between her thighs. Vesper flanked right—mouth on Lilith's breast, tongue circling a nipple while her hand joined Irina's between her legs.
Lilith gasped—head falling back against the obelisk. The cold stone contrasted the heat flooding her.
The threads amplified everything—every touch echoed fourfold.
Seraphina's fingers joined the others—four sets now working Lilith: circling her clit, sliding inside, curling, thrusting. She rocked into them—hips rolling, breath ragged.
The spire's crack widened—light spilling brighter.
Vesper whispered against Lilith's skin. "More. Give it more."
They shifted—Lilith lowered to her knees in the shallow water. The others surrounded her.
Seraphina straddled her face—lowering slowly. Lilith's tongue met her—long licks, then focused pressure on her clit. Seraphina moaned—hands in Lilith's hair, hips grinding.
Irina knelt behind Lilith—fingers sliding inside her from behind, thumb on her clit, other hand reaching around to pinch a nipple.
Vesper knelt in front—kissing Lilith's neck, then breasts, then lower—tongue joining Irina's fingers, licking where they thrust.
The threads blazed—white-hot.
Pleasure built—shared, overwhelming.
Seraphina came first—shuddering against Lilith's mouth, thighs clamping her head.
The sensation ripped through the link—Irina gasped, fingers faltering inside Lilith.
Vesper moaned—tongue pressing harder.
Lilith shattered—orgasm crashing through her, echoing to the others. Irina cried out—fingers buried deep. Vesper trembled—climax hitting her too.
The spire cracked wider—light pouring out, blinding.
The rift tore open.
A void yawned—black edged with crimson. Wind howled from inside—carrying the scent of bone and ash.
And something stepped through.
Not a demon. Something larger.
Eight feet tall—skin like cracked marble, horns spiraling back, wings of shadow and bone. Eyes burning white. In its chest: a smaller crowned silhouette—pulsing, alive.
The Sovereign's avatar.
Its voice boomed—layered, ancient.
"You dare."
Lilith rose—water dripping from her skin, silver veins blazing like molten silver.
"We do."
The sisters stood as one—naked, bloodied, unbreakable.
Seraphina drew her knife—speed blurring.
Irina raised her pistol—aim steady.
Vesper clutched the codex—runes glowing on its pages.
Lilith gripped the rune dagger—power singing in her blood.
The avatar lunged—claws raking air.
Seraphina moved first—dodging, slashing at tendons.
Irina fired—bullets sinking into marble skin, sizzling.
Vesper chanted—words from the codex forming barriers of light.
Lilith leaped—higher than before—landing on the avatar's back. She drove the dagger into its neck—twisting.
The avatar roared—wings flaring, slamming her into the wall.
Pain flared—ribs cracking.
But the threads held.
Power flowed—shared strength, shared rage.
Lilith pushed off—landed on her feet.
Seraphina blurred around the avatar—cutting deep.
Irina emptied her magazine into its eyes—blinding it momentarily.
Vesper's chant peaked—light barriers tightening like chains.
Lilith charged—dagger raised.
She plunged it into the avatar's chest—straight into the smaller crowned silhouette.
The avatar screamed—high, unearthly.
The crowned figure thrashed—trying to pull free.
Lilith twisted.
The silhouette shattered—black light exploding outward.
The avatar convulsed—then dissolved into ash and shadow.
Silence fell.
The rift snapped shut—crack sealing with a final, echoing crack.
The obelisk went dark.
The four sisters stood—panting, bloodied, alive.
Lilith looked at the others.
"We hurt him," she said.
Vesper nodded—voice soft. "We hurt him. But he's not dead. Not yet."
Seraphina wiped her knife. "Then we finish it."
Irina reloaded—click loud in the quiet.
Lilith smiled—slow, dangerous.
"Next time… we go all the way in."
The chamber was still.
But the war had just begun.