Sev was pissed, and Piper was kinda glad for it. The first thing he did when he returned to Caladan was drag her, Cait and Curie into their room, and vent his frustrations by very, very thoroughly using all of them.
Piper squealed happily as she was worn on his dick, the sensation of her entire cunt being stretched apart to fit his powerful, demanding thrusts flooding her head with mind-melting pleasure. Sev grabbed his fucktoys firmly and fucked them with a roughness they never experienced before.
There was no teasing, no foreplay, not even the usual milking of orgasms to hear his girls sing. Sev was showing his truly selfish side for once, and Piper approved. Being made so helpless, being used and enjoyed like she was nothing but a tool to sate his lust, having his hand around her throat in such a dominating grip… it felt good, too good. At the rate he was using her, the girl didn’t know if she could return to a tamer pace.
As her eyes fluttered and rolled up, as she drooled and moaned with lustful delight, Piper’s old, dark fantasies were rekindled. “M-Mashter…” The girl’s body trembled and stiffened in Sev’s hands as the relentless, ruthless pounding summoned a fourth orgasm that nearly knocked Piper unconscious with its intensity.
Floating in the air from his ‘remote pickup’, her arms and legs locked up and quivered visibly, while fingers and toes curled up tightly. Sev didn’t stop thrusting into her through that moment of numbing bliss, and the girl went through another body-spasming orgasm before he finally let out a heavy grunt and flooded her happily abused pussy with his warm seed.
Even as Piper was lowered to the ground, Sev was already pulling Cait towards his still needy cock, impaling the redhead and doing onto her what he had done to Piper. Cait was happily screaming his name as she got fucked, until the first orgasm hit, and Piper watched her fellow harem girl stammer and whimper while juices squirted out of her stuffed cunt.
Curie was next when Sev was done filling Cait up, and Piper got to enjoy the usually loving and passionate synth devolve into dirty, primal noises, crying and moaning incoherently while she floated in the air and Sev had his way with her.
Four more rounds for each of them, and all three girls could barely crawl across the stained and sticky floor, let alone get up on their feet to even limp. Sev was far from sated though, and he began summoning Gwen, Sarah, and the others to use as cocksleeves.
The room was rank with the stench of sweat and sex by the time the next day rolled in and was cluttered with cum-leaking bodies all over. Some like Gwen and a few from 1st Company had already been carried out by bots earlier to be cleaned up to attend their duties. The lucky remnants got used until finally, Sev was well and truly satisfied. Piper watched as he surveyed the room of moaning, panting bodies, then gave an apologetic smile.
“Haah. Thanks for helping me…unwind.”
Not that many could hear him, she thought as she looked at the blank and exhausted faces. And knowing how addicted everyone was to Sev, they’d be turning it around and thanking him instead for such a thorough fucking if they had the strength to speak.
This could be an opportunity, Piper realized as she noted how her man was helping the summoned robots to carry out the spent boys and girls, and more importantly, how guilty he looked. He was probably overthinking things and seeing this as a bad thing somehow.
Maybe after this, Piper could finally get him to clap a thick iron collar around her neck and chain her up for a night or two every week as his stress reliever. After all, far better for Sev to vent his frustrations in controlled bursts instead of this one-man orgy that fully spent everyone involved, right? Of course, as Sev’s first and favorite fucktoy, Piper would happily volunteer herself for such an ordeal, as was her duty (and right).
The collar was just for her sake, a little fantasy fulfillment.
*****
After a good sleep (and a very intense de-stressing session before that involving my dick and every hole that I ‘owned’), I returned to dealing with the aftermath of the whole Faceless debacle.
First thing was to attend the public apology/funeral for the civilian lives lost, which also served as a bit of a simple briefing to the general populace about eldritch threats being a real thing to worry about. And of course I used that to reassure everyone that the Nexus would adopt the appropriate measures to ensure that such bullshit never happens again.
The funeral service was one of my first appearances to the Nexus’ media outside of the designated press room. It was also a properly somber event, and I kept my speech short and simple. This was supposed to be about the deceased, so I tried not being too hamfisted about things.
“This tragedy was a surprise to all of us. So many lives lost to the dark secrets of the wasteland… Once more, despite our efforts, despite my efforts, this shattered world showed that it has more threats hidden away and awaiting an opportunity to assail us.”
After some reassurances that this incident will not be repeated again, I gave the grieving families and friends another round of consolation, and stood aside to watch the rest of the ceremony. The coffins bearing the names of the dead were entombed in the Nexus’ state-owned cemetery, a symbolic gesture for the press as the actual bodies had to be cremated for safety’s sake. I did not want or need to know whether the Faceless thing came with reanimation.
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With the public funeral done, focus was redirected towards the new eldritch world opened before me. First I had to figure out how to create sensors for the bots to pick up esoteric and otherworldly readings. After two days of work, it became apparent that I would have to resort to macros and personally editing objects to get anything capable of detecting supernatural energies.
It took brainstorming with the AIs to figure out the most efficient approach, but I finally figured how to slap the fewest amount of lines onto an additional sensory circuit board for the eyebots to see the unnatural through various wavelengths. It wasn’t perfect, being unable to detect the few Faceless prisoners I made via console, but the bots were now able to pick out different exotic readings from the marble pieces, the Cabot’s fancy helmet, and even some of the artifacts from the now defunct Children of Atom. The variation was significant enough across spectrums that Cabal had begun cataloging the eldritch energies, and I had a private little meeting with Desdemona and her intelligence team to brief them on this SCP-grade bullshit.
They now had more work to deal with, but none of them were complaining, considering the dangers that this new threat posed to everyone. I’m sure Desdemona and Deacon would figure out a way to adapt to the changes.
In the meantime, it took little time to set aside a cloning macro to spawn the circuit boards and upgrade the eyebots, and over the next week the updated robots swept across Nexus lands to ensure that no more eldritch surprises were awaiting some hapless excavation team. Thankfully, there were no new discoveries and our population centers were in the clear. The immigration processing centers also had a modified eyebot attached to them, on the off chance we met someone marinated in extradimensional stuff.
After getting the detection done, the following months were spent figuring out how to better deal with the new threats that we found. There had to be a better material than just working with the marble chunks. Mama Murphy couldn’t provide any aid unfortunately, so I ended up with a trip to the archives to pull out every book about rituals, magic and anything related to the supernatural.
Considering the enormity of the task, I had the girls to help me, along with a few very eager off-duty troopers from 1st Company. With their loyalty guaranteed, along with their discretion (at least I’d like to think that a max loyalty stat was worth my trust in these things, otherwise I’m fucked anyway), me and my aides went reading through even the most incomprehensible books about the occult and outer gods. I made sure everyone taking part was within line of sight to me as they read, so we were arranged like a classroom, with me taking the teacher’s seat.
We filtered the material almost entirely by the lines popping up in the console whenever someone read through a book. Either the eyebots, or failing that (about fifty-fifty, it felt like) myself would detect the invasive stats and I’d tell the reader to stop, purge their console lines to normal, and then mark the book or digital copy of it for further studies.
It took four goddamned months, but with the help of my trusted and now slightly unnerved followers and fucktoys, I had a bit of an idea of how to modify items and people to be effective against the eldritch. In the simplest sense, it all boiled down to the metaphysical weight of belief. The lines couldn’t be slapped on, but had to be created by a ritual that was heavy with belief - not faith.
You had to actually believe that the shard of glass in your hand was going to cut through the piece of Faceless mask, and then the line would appear with the damage value often proportional to the arbitrary amount of belief imparted onto it. There were weird prerequisites to follow, too; a gun or bow given the eldritch damage line only inflicted said damage when used to bludgeon (or stab, if they’re pointy enough) the targets, never when firing their projectiles. Literal holy water could be made, but they lost their effect when evaporated into vapors or frozen to ice.
And for some fucking reason, we couldn’t ‘enchant’ energy weapons or their batteries with eldritch damage. Melee weapons, arrows and bullets? Yes, go ahead. Lasers and plasma bolts? Fuck you. Why that level of metaphysics didn’t apply to energy weapons was something I’d like to take up with the admin if there was one, but at least we had something to work with now.
With the door to rituals opened, more possibilities opened up to the Nexus. With some modification to the weapon imbuing process, armor sets could be marked to negate or even deflect unnatural damage. Wards could, and were, carved on the perimeter of Caladan and other important structures that kept invasive dreams out (the poor infected prisoners almost went into the coma with how much sleep they were finally able to enjoy). A simple warding symbol was adopted to serve as an eldritch detection for my girls, close advisors and troopers, one that glowed whenever supernatural bullshit was detected within a few dozen yards.
Most importantly, thanks to some further coding tutorials from my AIs, I also found how to macro the siphoning of eldritch radiation - from the trace amounts constantly present all around us to the waste energies leaking out of ritual-made artifacts - and converting it into a general ‘unaligned’ form of eldritch energy that could be stored. It was an inefficient and slow process, which meant that a small percentage of the stored power would decay into normal waste radiation, mostly of the alpha and beta flavors. So not too dangerous, unless we had a lot in one place.
But with long and potent enough exposure, the siphoning could leech the supernatural values down to zero, which meant it’d kill a converted Faceless or utterly deactivate an imbued artifact given enough time.
The collected energy could then be harnessed to enhance existing wards or ‘enchanted’ weapons and armor (though again, no fucking luck with lasers or plasma weaponry). With a tweak to the rituals, the interdimensional energies could be even converted into mundane physical materials (I decided on exotic and rare metals to potentially ease up on mining and producing them).
The end of the months of research was marked with the creation of the Nexus’ official form for its supernatural energy storage. Because I had a theme going, I decided to apply the siphoning ritual to crystals.
Green and blue crystals.
“And lo…” I declared with the first batch of dimly glowing crystals in hand, each no bigger than my thumb. I pressed it against the bound and writhing form of a Faceless prisoner, and grinned widely as the silent, anguished scream of the Faceless filled the back of my head, and watched as the various eldritch stat lines began draining away from the writhing figure.
“...Tiberium.”
The crystals creaked and grew in my hand as exhaustive macros and rituals dictated, ushering a new stage in my Nexus Severalty.