#10 Years Later#
The atmosphere was thick with a puffy cloud of vibrant purple smoke, its ethereal tendrils gracefully swirling through the air.
It cast an enchanting haze over the Hybrid Tavern, a notorious establishment nestled within Glacier City, a bustling urban gem within the evil grandeur of Rancor City.
Within its walls, an electric current of fiery excitement surged through the diverse array of individuals scattered throughout the premises, illuminating their faces with an unmistakable fervor.
Within the enterprise, the air was infused with the potent essence of Merry Liquor, a robust libation crafted by one among the countless industries that dotted the Earth's landscape.
Its intoxicating presence seemed to be the catalyst behind the lively atmosphere that permeated the establishment.
It was as if this intoxicating elixir aimed to exemplify that Earth had truly blossomed into a realm of enchantment, despite its modest progress in technology and urban development.
Most inhabitants had immersed themselves in businesses that revolved around the wondrous art of indulgence, offering boundless pleasures to both the "Unfated" and the "Chosen," ensuring that the essence of living was experienced to the fullest.
As if to solidify this notion, the enticing movement of curvaceous female forms clad in revealing attire captivated the attention within the establishment.
The swaying hips and buxom bosoms of the scantily dressed women further emphasized the seductive allure that permeated the atmosphere.
Amidst the revelry, one could observe the flushed countenances of men who had partaken in a variety of illicit activities, ranging from thievery to drug trafficking, all in pursuit of sustaining their chosen way of life.
Such visages became a customary sight within the walls of the Hybrid Tavern.
In the secluded depths of this distinguished tavern, within a chamber adorned with dim lighting, the ambiance took a more intimate turn.
In this room, multiple women adorned with revealing attire revealed their bare torsos and relinquished their undergarments.
At the center of this tableau, a man with resplendent golden hair reclined upon a plush bed, exuding an aura of indulgence and luxury.
His gaze leisurely wandered across the alluring contours of the women encircling him, their bodies an exquisite symphony of desire.
Their eyes, filled with a blend of affection and seduction, seemingly conveyed an eternal devotion to him. Yet, Charles, wise to the ways of the world, knew that their expressions masked a deeper truth.
As the esteemed Supreme Leader of the renowned Nightmare Brigade, he understood the allure of his commanding presence, and that the women who graced his presence were handpicked for their unrivaled beauty and unparalleled quality.
But behind their mesmerizing gazes, Charles discerned subtle hints of trepidation, a testament to his formidable reputation and his destructive streak for the past years.
Though their eyes harbored flickers of fear, he recognized the unmistakable determination gleaming within them.
They yearned to shed their current lives and ascend with him, riding the golden, flaming cloud of his authority to unimaginable heights.
The intense contact between his flesh and one of these women seemed to fully hint at that fact. The ferocity of the ride she gave him as they fully indulged pointed at the fact.
While a slight glint of fear may have lingered in the women's eyes, it seemed to have little impact on the overwhelming desire that coursed through them.
This was made abundantly clear by the unmistakable wetness that drenched the intimate depths of Olivia, one of the women in his company.
It was a vivid manifestation of her unbridled arousal and willingness to embrace the pleasures unfolding before her.
Similar reactions were observed in the remaining five women, as their bodies responded eagerly to the sensations that swept them away.
The air itself seemed to crackle with an electric charge, igniting primal energy that fueled their collective indulgence.
Within the passionate dance of their union, fear gave way to a primal hunger for pleasure, unifying them in a shared pursuit of ecstasy.
Their bodies intertwined, moving with an unrelenting ferocity that knew no boundaries, as they delved deeper into the intoxicating realm of their desires.
The room became a sanctuary of hedonistic bliss, where inhibitions were abandoned and the pursuit of pleasure reigned supreme.
With each passing moment, the women's responses mirrored one another, their bodies responding in synchrony to the intoxicating rhythm of their encounter.
As their union intensified, their bodies melded together, unleashing a torrent of sensations that rendered them lost in the depths of pleasure.
Despite the intense sexual atmosphere surrounding him, Charles found himself unable to dispel the lingering cloud of darkness that enshrouded his being for the past years.
His resplendent golden hair and commanding authority, once symbols of his stature, proved powerless in dispersing the shadows that haunted him.
Though there were moments of respite, such as the radiant smile of his ten-year-old daughter, a source of pure joy in his life, even her infectious happiness couldn't wash away the myriad of negative emotions that had plagued him for the past decade.
The weight of grief had settled upon Charles since the untimely demise of Jasmine, casting a long and desolate shadow over his existence.
The pain he carried within his heart manifested itself in various ways, from the charred remnants of hospitals and towns left in the wake of his residual golden flames to his relentless pursuit of research into morally questionable subjects, even by the standards of the "New Earth."
These outward signs served as haunting evidence of the darkness that consumed him. The once vibrant but dark flames of his passions had been tainted further by the corrosive effects of sorrow and despair.
Immersed in his ongoing research, Charles had delved into a wide array of subjects, spanning from enhancing the potency of Vitamin T—a substance crafted by the infamous Nightmare Brigade—to the enigmatic realms of Resurrection Technology and Resurrection Magia.
His involvement in these ventures was driven by a desire to not only augment the addictive yet efficacious Vitamin T drug but also to seek solace from his desolation and anguish.
Years ago, a fervent pursuit led to the creation of Vitamin T, a recreational drug renowned for its ability to induce profound sensations of euphoria and boundless energy.
What set it apart from its predecessors, spanning millennia of substance abuse, was its unique infusion of magic.
For the "Chosen," it provided a heightened amplification of their magical abilities, while for the "Unfated," it granted the illusion of traversing enchanted landscapes and engaging in battles of fantastical proportions.
The irony was not lost on him—the once illustrious architect of this mesmerizing substance, now grappling with his reliance on its hallucinatory allure.
The depths of his sorrow and despair had driven him to seek refuge within the hazy realms conjured by Vitamin T, a temporary escape from the weight of his emotions.
However, due to his near-stable physical state resulting from years of relentless magical evolution, the potency of the drug had become almost negligible for Charles.
Therefore, in his pursuit to "alleviate" his torment, Charles sought to refine the drug, to increase its potency.
As for his other research endeavors, it was evident that Charles aimed to resurrect Jasmine, whose lifeless body had remained preserved through a combination of advanced technology and her natural defenses against decomposition.
To pass the time, he would frequent one of his numerous nightclubs scattered across the globe, finding temporary relief until his breakthrough in Vitamin T research materialized.
The day unfolded much like countless others before, with an atmosphere of indifference surrounding him.
No matter what happened in his vicinity, it failed to evoke any significant response.
As the hours slipped away, he couldn't help but feel a pang of remorse for wasting yet another precious day instead of being by Amber's side.
However, just as these regrets began to consume him, a voice suddenly echoed beside him, shattering the silence.
The most peculiar part was that there was no one in proximity whose voice could match the one he heard. Yet, such details were inconsequential, for he immediately recognized that voice.
Deep within his being, an undeniable familiarity stirred, leaving no room for doubt.
A resonant baritone voice, belonging to a man from his generation, reverberated through the air, carrying an unmistakable sense of familiarity.
As the voice enveloped his senses, vivid imagery sprang forth in his mind's eye, painting a picture of its owner.
He envisioned a figure with spiky, obsidian black hair, two distinctive strands cascading on either side of his face, perfectly framing his countenance.
Clad in his signature attire, a dark purple jacket adorned with a high, wide collar, the man exuded an air of enigmatic allure.
His slim-fit black pants seamlessly merged with his black dress boots, all concealed beneath a flowing black haori.
These intricate details formed an intricate tapestry within his thoughts, forming a picture-perfect frame that matched the voice.
And despite the mystery that surrounded the identity of the voice, no joy welled up within him upon recognizing it.
Although Dante was currently occupied with his quest to pilfer a mage repository map, had he been present, one could have effortlessly drawn a connection between his unique fashion sense and the mental image Charles had conjured of the man.
(A/N: I apologize for delving into descriptive details without actually contributing to the plotline. I appreciate your understanding and rest assured, the upcoming chapter will thoroughly explore and address any lingering concerns. Thank you for your continued support)