[GLKnight] Getting With The Goddesses

[GLKnight]

Over the next week with the weirdness that was Shelly Veston discovering his connection to the Goddesses, Brandon had not seen her in that entire time. No funky smells, no oppressively searching through people's stuff when they weren't looking, no interminable stalking. Just peace and quiet. As he settled into his Friday Literature class, he breathed a sigh of relief at the lack of Shelly in his life.

Clearing his throat, Professor Aramus Wilhelm, Brandon's favorite teacher at the college, stood and held up a copy of The Tale of Roland.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," the balding 44 year old man called out. "Welcome back to Romantic Literature! Let us continue with where we left off on Tuesday, about the charge of the Moors on the pinned down forces of the knights of the Holy Roman Empire. Please turn to page-"

The clack of the door broke the statesman like presence of Professor Wilhelm's lesson, drawing all eyes towards whoever was entering. And when Brandon saw who it was, his jaw dropped.

"Sorry I'm late!"

It was Shelly Veston. But also... not her. For one, she actually looked good. Like she had lost some weight. And she was taking care of her skin and hair. And the clothes were... Brandon was at a loss for words. This was a drastic turnaround for anyone, let alone Shelly.

"Heeeey," Shelly partially whined as she walked into the room. "Professor Wilhelm! How's one of my favorite teachers?"

Giving the man a quick hug, Shelly immediately made her way over to where Brandon was sitting. His eyes were on her, suspicion the only emotion he felt. He started thinking about every possibility. Her transformation wasn't natural. His eyes caught something on her wrist. Something new. A pink cybernetic eye, tattooed on her right hand.

"Oh, you like my new mark, Brandi?"

He turned to look Shelly, and could tell something was up.

__________________________________________________

"Ugh! I'm BORED! I don't want to practice anymore today! Can we do something else? Please?"

Mayra knew how Layla was when she was cooped inside too long with only one thing to do. Looking around the room, even Yori, Ms. "So Much Energy She Can Make Paint Drying Feel Like A Speed Run", seemed to be so low key as to be in stasis. And right now, even Alma seemed to be taking a nap on the kit. She knew she had to do something.

"Shaushka? Can you get me the keys? Let's see if Brandon wants to do something after class."

Alma seemed to spring from her nap, wide awake at the mention of their acolyte's name.

"Massages?", she purred.

"Fuck yeah," Layla cheered, unstrapping her guitar. "Let's go visit our acolyte!"

"Fuck yeah," Yori roared.

Shaushka however, noticed something outside. Moving to get a better look, the Arabic keyboardist suddenly put her hands to her mouth and gasped.

"Guys," she shouted. "Look! Look!"

Heeding Shaushka, the band looked at the window, seeing what made Shaushka freak out. A wave of men, all in black suits practically cut off their view of the road. Most of them stood perfectly still, unmoving in the slightest. But something else caught Yori's attention.

"Guys," Yori screamed. "Our van!"

A swarm of those men had surrounded their van, pushing it back and forth until it finally toppled over. Quickly, the men that surrounded it climbed on top, proceeding to damage it further.

"Those fuckers," Layla shouted, furiously charging towards the front door. "I'm going to-"

Alma grabbed Layla's arm and shook her head.

"Don't go," Alma bluntly told her. "Something's wrong."

"Alma's right," Mayra added. "Look at them. Does something seem off about this?"

Layla looked back out the window, trying to figure it out. And with a snap of her fingers, it clicked.

"They all look the same!"

"Like they're the same person," Shaushka inferred.

"That's WICKED," Yori added, totally digging what was happening.

Suddenly, one of the men closest to the house touched something on the side of his head. Then a loud and synthetic voice rang out of his mouth.

"GODDESSES. BY. ORDER. OF. OUR. GODDESS. WE. SHALL. MAKE. SURE. THAT. YOU. WILL. NOT. MAKE. IT. TO. THE. SHOW. IF. SOMEHOW. YOU. SURVIVE. YOU. WILL. STILL. BE. CRIPPLED. TO. THE. POINT. OF. FAILURE."

Layla's looked at her friends and bandmates, confused as Hell.

"What the fuck are they talking about?"

The man who spoke raised his arm high.

"ALL. HAIL. THE. ARTIFICIAL. QUEEN."

Then every man in their yard touched the sides of their heads and lifted their arms high, and spoke in one robotic voice.

"ALL. HAIL. THE. ARTIFICIAL. QUEEN."

And as one, they marched towards The Goddesses.
__________________________________________________

"What's you game, Shelly?"

The stalker with a new makeover just looked at Brandon with an innocent look.

"Game, Brandi? There is no game."

The sound of many heavy footsteps marching through the halls could be heard. As the people in the room started to look around to figure out what was going on, Brandon's eyes were drawn back to the pink cybernetic eye on Shelly's hand.

"Where did you get that tattoo? It's unique."

Shelly held out her hand, like if she was admiring a manicure.

"It's pretty," she said cheerily. "I'm glad she gave it to me!"

Something about this was all kinds of wrong. It takes more than a week to change this much. It was like magic. It was like a miracle. It was like...

"Who gave it to you, Shelly?"

She just smiled and placed her hand over her eye, so the mark placed perfectly with her other one.

"My goddess, Silly Billy!"

The tattoo blinked, the iris seeming to zoom in and out like a camera lens. And a woman's voice filled his head

"MY ACOLYTE AND I SEE YOU, BRANDON."

Like it was Divine Intervention.

[GLKnight]

"We need a plan of action," Shaushka shouted.

Layla started backing up towards her bedroom door.

"Already got one!"

Mayra quickly realized what she was doing.

"Don't do it, girl! We can't afford to-"

With a defiant scream, Layla ran at full speed, and with a mighty leap, broke through the front window to charge at the Artificial Men.

"...replace it."

Alma was quick on her feet, jumping out the window behind her front woman. Yori, for her part, roared with glee as she followed suit. The Artificial Men stopped mid-step as the three madwomen ran at them with all they had, screaming like they were ready to fight. As they drew closer, the three ladies could see just how fake these men really were. A nearly plasticine like texture covered their hands and feet and heads. Their heads were nearly too ovoid in shape, like if a toy was made into a real human. They had no hair at all, creating a deeper feel to the Uncanny Valley between the humans these things were modeled after that their sunglasses could not hide.

"WHAT. ARE. THEY-"

Layla once again leapt at her attackers, launching herself high into the air. Aimed directly at the one that delivered the message from their "Artificial Queen" about their supposed failure like a target locked missile.

"FUCK OFF, YOU FUCKTOY FAILURES!"

Layla's fist came down hard and fast, obliterating the Artificial Man into a small crater, sending a shockwave out and around her landing. Sending two rows of six by six of the analogic antagonizers to the ground.

"AND GET THE FUCK OFF OUR PROPERTY!"

With Alma leaping like a predator to her left, and Yori in a rage to her right, Layla resumed the charge into the heart of the mechanical invaders.
__________________________________________________
Back at the college, Brandon fell out of his chair, scrambling backwards to make some space between him and Shelly.

"What the fuck?!"

Keeping her hand over her eye, the blonde breacher of boundaries stood up, giggling. Whenever she blinked, the eye on her hand blinked. As if her eye was its eye.

"Tch! Brandi," she whined, standing from her seat. "Don't make this DIFFICULT! Just come with me, okay? We'll, like, treat you so super duper nicely before we kill you!"

Brandon found his footing,  lifting himself up as he looked around the room for his options.

"Kill me? Why do you want to kill me?!"

Shelly just rolled her eyes.

"Cause if you're dead," she replied, menacingly. "Then they are easier to kill."

He stared at her, wondering what she meant when it came to him.

"The Goddesses!"

Shelly jumped and clapped at his ability to put simple clues together. But then again, she already knew he was the type to be more straightforward, so he needed more time to piece things together.

"Very good, Brandi! I knew you'd get it! But now that you know..."

Bringing her hand back in front of her face, the cybernetic eye zoomed in on him. And with its attention came its voice.

"You... must die!"

At this point, Brandon did the only sensible thing.

He ran as quickly as he could out the door on the other side of the room. As he ran, Shelly pulled out her phone and pulled up an app.

"Do it, my Acolyte."

"Uploading tracer on his phone, my Goddess."

As Brandon ran into the hallway, he saw a massive number of weird looking men. Suddenly, one pointed at him.

"GET. HIM."

The robotic voice immediately sent him into a panic as he took off down the hall, a literal legion of Artificial Men on his tail.
_____________________________________________________

As the battle raged on, Layla was having the time of her life. So many faces to smash, so many fake asses to beat, and her home to save. As she watched Alma tear the Artificial Men to pieces with her claws, and Yori using one after another as a club while she laughed in glee, she knew that this was the perfect answer to her wish for something else to do. She began to pick up the analog assholes she had already beaten down, throwing them back at their dopplegangers, an evil glint in her eye at the mayhem she was causing.

Suddenly, she felt her phone vibrate. Checking it real quick, she saw that Brandon sent the girls a message.

"Shelly avatar help"

Layla's heart dropped. Looking around, she noticed that the number of these mannequin motherfuckers was impossibly large. Which made her realize one thing.

This attack on their home was a diversion.

"MAYRA!!!"

Walking out of the front door like there was a war happening outside, Mayra jogged over to Layla.

"I got it, too. Someone needs to protect Brandon."

Layla looked around, thinking of a plan.

"I'll go. You know these guys are too weak for me."

"Take Yori," Shaushka said, running to catch up. "She can get there almost-"

Taking a glance up, Shaushka stepped back in time for an Artificial Man to land in front of her.

"SORRY," Yori yelled out from somewhere deep in the crowd.

"Yori can get you there almost faster than light."

Mayra slapped her forehead.

"Of course," she chided herself. "The Black Torii!"

Layla knew what the plan was, now.

"YORI," she yelled. "I NEED YOU!"

The petite bassist leapt high into the air.

"Gimme a second," she shouted, waving wildly.

Upon landing, a wall of the fake humans flew into the air.

"Mayra, Shaushka? Can you guys give Alma a hand?"

Alma threw herself at a rushing group of attackers, landing on the man in front and swiping at him with a yowl. Shredding through every man that even dared come close to her.

"I got this," she shouted back, licking her hand.

Moving so she could be heard better, Shaushka didn't notice as an Artificial Man was running right at her.

"We need all hands on deck! Yori and Layla are-"

As is the way for those who have never been in a fight before, time seemed to slow down for Shaushka. Alma with a mask of savagery on her face as she was ripping an Artificial Man apart. Yori with the boundless joy she always felt, hovering in the air mid-leap. Layla with a look of surprise. And her attacker, inches away from her with all the emotion of snow. She didn't know what to do.

But suddenly, something much faster came into view. A muscular arm, with skin as dark as volcanic obsidian, glowing from the lava lines that flowed beneath it, snatched her assailant from the air by its neck, pulling it away from her.

"Don't you DARE touch her," Mayra growled, putting her hands on either side of its head and squeezing. Its inorganic flesh melting and burning as its exo-skeleton creaked and then screamed as Mighty Mayra crushed its head in one go. An explosion of superheated metal as the head collapsed before she threw it to the ground.

"What's up?", Yori said, a smile on her face. "Oh, man! I missed Mayra crushing something!"

"Yori," Shaushka cut in. "Focus. Brandon's in trouble."

Yori's face immediately became serious.

"You need me to call up the Black Torii, don't you?"

All three ladies nodded.

"You and me need to save him," Layla added.

"Then stay close."

Yori began to run away from the field, towards the back of the house.

"We'll be back soon," Layla yelled.

Once they round the side of the house, Yori started digging into her palm to pay the toll of the gate. Once the blood started to flow, she raised her hand up high.

"I call upon the Black Torii, the Gate of Demons! The toll is paid, heed my call! Take us to our Acolyte, and open once more so we may come back home!"

A shadow fell over the yard as the girls ran further on. And in a shimmer, a gigantic black torii gate made of bones and rotted flesh and dried blood appeared.

"Hold on tight, Layla!"

Taking hold of her bassist's hand, she let Yori take the lead as she picked up speed. Layla's feet were up in the air as Yori ran as fast as she could, straight through into the realm of the damned. The darkness soon dissipated and the gate vanished from this realm once more.

[GLKnight]

As he ran for his life down the college halls, Brandon wracked his brains trying to think of an escape. Every turn he made, they made. Every flight of stairs he took, they took. His lungs were burning, his legs felt gummy and stretched. Sweat poured down his body as he could do the only thing he could in this situation.

But no matter what, the Artificial Men gave chase.

Bounding through a doorway, he found himself once more at the top of the stairs. Looking down them, he noticed another student was heading out the door on the first floor. And suddenly, an idea came to him. Hearing the steps of a hundred unnatural humans, Brandon grit his teeth and did something he hadn't done since middle school.

He threw himself over the railing, down to the stair bannister below. As soon as he landed, he felt the terrible pinch in his knees, letting him know something had gone wrong. But he pressed onward, skipping levels and feeling more and more pain as the shock of little use built up in him.

"Five floors down," he told himself. "Two more to go."

He let himself fall to the second floor. His hand gripped the railing, his feet braced on the side. And then he felt his knee pop. His hands gave way, sending him into a freefall the rest of the way down the stairwell. And with a wet crack from his shoulder, he reached the bottom. The sound of the 7th floor exit slammed open, followed by the rumble of 200 feet descending the stairs. Knowing he had no choice, Brandon got himself on his feet, shock settling from the trauma and adrenaline fueling his body, and hobbled out the door.

As he painfully limped outside, he pulled out his phone, bringing up the group chat with The Goddesses, and fired off three words with the one hand that still could move.

"Shelly avatar help"

Then, a pink cybernetic eye overwhelmed the screen of his phone.

"Uh uh uh! They can't help you now, Brandon!"
_____________________________________________________________________________
Whenever Yori told Layla about what lied beyond the Black Torii, the bassist would always grow quiet and serious, and reiterate one phrase.

"When you are in the realm of the damned, you keep your eyes shut. It is not meant for living eyes to witness what is there. Trust me."

Heading her advice, Layla's eyes were squeezed tight. The smell of rot and sickly sweet things burning in the fire made her gag. The air felt heavy and foul on her skin. The taste of ash and bitterness on her tongue made her ill. And through the whistling of the wind, the air was filled with the sounds of torture, of screams, of the wet tearing of flesh and the suffering of the damned. She was almost sure that those sensations alone would give her nightmares for weeks.

"I may love horror movies," she told herself. "But this experience alone is on another level."

"Of course it is," Yori shouted. "This is Jigoku. We're in Hell."

The realization dawned on Layla just what Yori's domain actually consisted of.

"Wait! Are you a Goddess of Death, Yori?"

Yori just laughed at Layla's question.

"No, silly!"

Layla breathed a sigh of relief.

"I'm a Goddess of Judgment!"

Layla could not help herself, and opened her eyes to stare at her friend and pantheon mate. But what she saw beyond her frightened the front woman to her core.

There, beyond the horizon and imposed upon the stygian sky was a man behind a gigantic desk. Looming larger and intimidatingly across the landscape Garbed in ancient robes and an old official's hat, his deep red and bloated face furiously peered down upon the landscape. By him were two gigantic rotting heads, a woman's head on his right and a man's head on his left. Feeling fear within her soul, Layla could do nothing but gasp at the sight.

"Close your eyes," Yori commanded. "Do not let Emma-O see you with open eyes, or he will judge you like any other soul!"

As Emma-O's gaze drifted her way, Layla once again closed them tightly.

"I'd like to be back among the living soon, please..."

She heard Yori laugh and felt her picking up speed.

"Almost there! Just hang on!"
________________________________________________________________________________

As soon as the eye appeared on his screen, Brandon threw his phone away and started hobbling away. But before he could get even six feet from the door, he felt a large hand grab him by the back of his neck and then his feet leave the ground. Turning his head, he saw a gigantic woman who just looked... wrong. Unlike the Artificial men, she was actually pretty. But the kind of pretty that veers into unnatural, uncomfortable territory that makes one feel like there is something immediately wrong. An artificial construct that was trying way too hard to be human-like instead of just barely. And as he gazed down, this Artificial Woman was designed to be powerful, if the tight dress suit around its large, bulging frame was anything to go by.

"Brandi, Brandi, Brandi!"

The clack of her heels drew his attention.

"I told you," Shelly told him. "You're coming with us."

The door he had limped through burst open as the Artificial Men that were chasing him swarmed out of the building, making a circle around Brandon, Shelly and the Artificial Woman that was holding him by his neck.

"After all, my goddess wouldn't want you getting MORE hurt until she decides what to do with you!"

"Buy for time," the Acolyte told himself. "Buy for fucking time!"

"W-what are you going to do to me," he asked. "I mean, before you kill me?"

Shelly rolled her eyes and pursed her lips.

"Tch, what any sane person would do when someone's standing in the way of the Ascension of a person who deserves it!"

She looked at the helpless man, hanging in the air by his neck, and remembered who she was dealing with.

"Oh yeah," she muttered. "I forgot you're the dense kind of guy who needs things spelled out for you."

Walking forward, she poked his belly.

"First thing's first," she told him, dancing her fingers up his abdomen. "You're going to tell us everything we need to know!"

Brandon winced at the discomfort he was feeling, the adrenaline wearing off.

"Oh yeah," he groaned. "L-like what?"

Shelly looked at Brandon, unamused as she knew he was playing dumb now. So, noticing his slowly swelling right arm, quickly grabbed it and viciously yanked hard. Drawing a scream of suffering from the man she had in her grasp.

"Don't play dumb, Brandi! It's a TERRIBLE look for you!"

Motioning for the Artificial Woman to lower him closer, Shelly's hand grabbed his jaw, shaking him to keep him focused on her.

"Now, you're going to tell me everything you know about-"

The sky grew dark as a foul flew blew through the courtyard. Every Artificial Man turned to look as a giant black gate, covered in rotting flesh, bones and dried blood shimmered into view. And through the darkness beyond it, two people came through. A petite Asian girl and a buff looking white girl with teal colored hair being pulled behind her. And as they came to a stop, the gate behind them faded away, and the light once more broke through.

"Well," Shelly said, amused by the sudden appearance. "Would you look at that! Glad you two could join-"

Layla raised her hand up.

"Give me a second, would you?"

Shelly's face scrunched up in confusion at the second.

"Why would I-"

Suddenly, Layla turned to the side, just in time for her stomach to completely empty itself right there on the spot. Foamy and viscous, projectile vomit flew from her mouth in great wave after wave. After three magnificently gross spouts, Yori was rubbing Layla's back to comfort her. Standing up and stretching, the punk rock goddess turned to look at the people that held her Acolyte.

"That is so disgust-"

Quickly, Layla turned and proceeded to throw up again, this time in greater volume. The contents more of a fluid consistency, dark and sickly looking from her time in Hell. After four incredible heaves, she began to take deep breaths, wiped her mouth off and stood up.

"Now, if you're finished-"

Once more, she leaned down and away, as mucus and bile were expelled from her stomach and throat. Thankfully, it was only a small amount. Spitting the taste out, Layla stood and sighed, bouncing on her feet.

"Man, I feel much better!"

Yori rolled her eyes and smiled.

"I told you to not open your eyes while we were in Hell," she told her friend.

"What in the fuck is wrong with all of you?", Shelly screamed, disgusted and upset that they weren't seemingly taking this situation seriously.

"What's wrong?", Layla asked, incensed.

"Layla," Brandon moaned, looking like he was in serious pain. "Yori..."

Both women immediately grew more furious at the state their Acolyte was in.

"You're going to give us our friend back," Layla screamed. "And you're going to do it NOW!"

Shelly laughed a cruel laugh and rolled her eyes.

"And what are you going to do? Hit me?"

Her hand reached out, slapping Brandon in his knee and making him cry out in pain.

Suddenly, the air grew hot and the wind began to blow. A roiling could be heard from up above as the clouds began to shift and turn dark. And then they watched as Layla eyes and hands began to glow as she seemed to be growing.

"That's it," Layla growled. "You hurt my Brandon. Pray to whatever god you are the Acolyte of while you can. Because you are OURS, now!"

[GLKnight]

Starting to get the feeling I should stop writing this story about Gods and Goddesses fighting in Music competitions and literal battles so that one party may join the greater pantheons in godhood. Because despite being about a group of powerful and/or muscular women in the lead roles, it doesn't have a lot of what the rest of this section of the forum seems to like.

[Wookey]

Great work. Ignore the haters.

[ArkhamAsylum]

I really like this story so far and I'm looking forward to the rest of it. Great work so far.

[crow004]

Please continue to post here. This is a great story and you have me hooked!

[HumanPersonBeing]

You're not alone. Not everyone with a muscle fetish is turned on by displays of sadism. On the contrary, for some, like me, they are a huge turn off.

You're a good writer. Keep it up!

[Wookey]

You're not alone. Not everyone with a muscle fetish is turned on by displays of sadism. On the contrary, for some, like me, they are a huge turn off.

This 100%. It’s possible to love muscular women as equals. It is possible to have a relationship that does not require subservience. But that’s just me.

[GLKnight]

You're not alone. Not everyone with a muscle fetish is turned on by displays of sadism. On the contrary, for some, like me, they are a huge turn off.

This 100%. It’s possible to love muscular women as equals. It is possible to have a relationship that does not require subservience. But that’s just me.

If you noticed, I'm actually trying to angle the story around that point about subservience. A normal man who is caught up in a situation where his attraction towards a certain someone (3 guesses who) is not equal, but she likes him in kind and is trying to find a way to be with him on a balanced level. Even the platonic relationships he develops is like that (Yori is a prime example of that).

[srielley]

You have a great story here. Please continue with it

[GLKnight]

As Brandon dangled there in the giant Artificial Woman's hand like a ragdoll that was slowly being torn apart, Brandon's eyes kept blurring as he saw looked at Layla. Through the haze, he could swear he saw a larger, brighter copy of Layla imposed either behind or above her. Billowing and floating like a white smoke all around, teeming with power and anger like she was now. And behind Yori was a cloud of blue and black smoke, dark and imposing as it stormed in stark contrast to her normally small frame, in a way that he would call demonic. Like if the smoke she was attached to was watching, listening, waiting, judging.

Two greatly contrasting women.

Two greatly contrasting shadows.

Two greatly different goddesses.

Two greatly angered beings.

"Really," Shelly taunted. "You're going to threaten me? You know you can't actually touch-"

Layla lifted her hand towards the Artificial Men toward Shelly's right, opened her hand and quickly closed it. One second, the twenty Artificial Men in that direction were whole. And the next, their legs fell twitching to the ground, oil and sparks flying into the air as their upper halves atomized instantly in a burst of brilliant light.

"Holy SHIT," Layla shouted, surprised.

"Did you know you could do that?", Yori asked, jumping and clapping at this new discovery.

"No! This is all new to me!"

"Cool! Can you do a Spirit Bo-"

"A-HEM!!!"

Getting back in focus, the goddesses looked over at Shelly, annoyed at the fact that people were not giving her the attention she wanted, and realized they still had to save their Acolyte.

"You get Brandon free," Layla told Yori. "I've got these fake fucks."

With a fist bump, Yori leapt high into the air as Layla charged forward.

"Stop that dumb bitch," Shelly commanded her minions, all marching dutifully to get in the way.

"Hey, Miss Robo!

The Artificial Woman turned its head to its shoulder, looking directly at Yori.

"Let my friend go!"

Raising her hand, Yori flicked the robotic woman in the forehead with her finger. With greater speed than she expected, the Artificial Woman grabbed the diminutive bassist, and in one throw, sent her sailing to the rooftop of the college. Meanwhile, try as they might, the Artificial Men were being thoroughly toyed with as Layla tore through them like paper. Every facsimile falling to the wayside in scraps and sparks as she separated limbs from torso, heads from shoulders, and bodies from legs with every swing of her hands. If the Artificial Men had the ability to feel fear like Shelly Veston could, this one woman rampage would be sending them into a terror driven panic for survival like the Acolyte herself was reaching.

"My goddess," she begged. "Isn't it about time for us to come-"

"I SAID LET MY FRIEND GO!"

With a boom, Shelly was thrown into the air screaming as Yori returned to the fight, stomping into the ground with all the presence of a bomb as she pried the robot's fingers from around Brandon's neck. Sliding out of its grasp, he fell down towards Yori as she quickly caught him.

"Yori...," he groaned.

"I got you," she told him. "You're gonna be okay!"

Turning towards her bandmate, she watched as she tore through the last of the Artificial Men in her wake, the pieces of nearly 200 robotic soldiers littering the ground around her.

"Layla, take care of Brandon for-"

Layla's eyes went wide as she saw the Artificial Woman moving towards her bassist.

"YORI," she screamed. "LOOK OUT!"

Turning just in time, Yori's hands quickly met the Artificial Woman's in a deadlock. A contest of strength had just begun.

"Grab Brandon," Yori shouted. "I've... got her!"

Layla watched as Yori struggled with the giant robot, using all of her strength to hold it back while she could gently pick up her Acoyte.

"Layla," was all Brandon could whisper, using the arm that wasn't swollen and turning purple to gently place his hand on her face before passing out in her arms. Tears began to flow freely at the situation he was in because of them, and the realization of the suffering he must have been in waiting for them to arrive. She cried his name as her heart felt like it was breaking at the pain and agony they had forced upon him by bringing him into the Ascension Game as their Acolyte. Her apologies came out of her like song as she apologized for everything her selfishness had caused, and how she didn't want to lose him. And how she had hurt him by not being open and honest.

"Layla," Yori called out. "Please stop crying."

Layla looked up at her friend, wiping her eyes.

"We'll be going home in a minute."

"Yeah, we-"

Suddenly, the sound of tearing fabric caught her ear.

"Yori," she asked. "What's going on?"

Blue and black smoke began to billow out, as if Yori was breathing it out of her.

"Doing my job," Yori replied.

The sounds that filled the air reminded Layla of their time in the Black Torii. The wet ripping of flesh, the sizzle and pop of meat in the fire, the snapping and cracking of bones. But all those sounds were coming from Yori as her body began to distort and shift. Bones reforming as they grew larger and thicker. Her muscles twitching and swelling with explosive growth. Her height shooting up once, then again and again. The way her flesh discolored and deepened, a bluish hue overtaking her natural pale skin tone. Her grunts and gasps deepening as she grew taller and bigger. The sound of her skin popping open as one row of horns, then another, and then another shot out of her scalp. Then the transformation slowed.

And Layla saw that her friend, Yori the 5'0 tall bassist had transformed from the Little Oni of the band into a real Oni, fourteen feet tall, heavily muscled, her skin a deep blue color and naked to the world.

"Y-Yori?", Layla stammered, frightened at this side of Yori that she had never shown anyone before.

The Artificial Woman stared up at the thing that the little Japanese girl had become, a clear difference of six or seven feet between the two, trying to calculate how best to handle this monster. But it was not given the chance, as Yori laughed maniacally in a deep voice before swiftly bearing down and biting the head off the robotic behemoth in one smooth motion. Grabbing the open neck hole as she chewed, the Oni began to pull the Artificial Woman apart before spitting the remnants of its crushed head down its neck and sending it soaring through the air as she threw it into the nearby park a mile away.

Layla's eyes remained glued on her friend, taking in every detail and bit of definition. She had to be well over 3000 lbs., by her best figure. With how large and overly developed her body was, standing closer to a giant female version of a professional heavyweight male bodybuilder, it was the highest number she could rationalize before her mind gave way to hysterics, giving how scary she now looked.

"Layla," Yori spoke, two voices coming out of its... her mouth at once, normal and bestial. "Let's go home."

Yori kneeled down, opening her palm flat to carry both her front woman and their Acolyte to safety. Reticently, she climbed onto Yori's hand, making her feel small against the imposing impossibility that was her bassist.

"Ready as I can be," Layla sighed, taking a deep breath.

"Remember," Yori told her. "When going through the Black Torii..."

"I know," Layla replied. "Keep my eyes closed."

Looking to Yori's left, Layla watched as the last of the Artificial Men carried Shelly away as she was complaining how she was in "so much pain". But Layla could immediately tell all she had was a bruise or two and nothing more.

Closing her eyes, Layla held onto Brandon tightly, crying once more.

"Let's go home," she told Yori. Within seconds, the sky darkened and the Black Torii appeared. And within a few steps, they were through the gate and making their way home as the Black Torii vanished from the realm once more.

[Wookey]

Great work. Karma plus

[GLKnight]

Surveying the field, Shauska knew that there would have to be quite a bit of work needed to clean up the literal tons of scrap that littered their yard. For her part, Mayra was finishing the last of the Artificial Men that dared put up a fight. Alma, however, was nonchalant as ever, on her haunches as she yawned on the hill of fake humans she had made in some sort of bizarre game. Given how dirty her hands were, Shaushka was surprised the drummer wasn't cleaning them like a cat would, given her domain and everything.

"Mayra," she called out to her guitarist. "We should probably get the van upright. We need to see how badly these robots damaged it."

"Gimme a sec," Mayra told her. Her hands burning brightly, Mayra shot them to the sky. And in perfect sync, a series of hands made of liquid lava burst through the ground, grabbing the last of the functioning fakers and pulling them into the Earth below. The spots on which they were standing sealing up perfect and unharmed, leaving no trace of them, whatsoever.

"Alma! Wanna give me a hand with the van?"

The Central American beauty just scratched the side of her, shrugged her shoulders and slid down the pile of bodies she had made.

"Nah," she replied, shaking her head. "You know I'm not as strong as you."

Shaking her arms, bits of lava flew from her hands as they cooled and dimmed, and ancient furnace heat went back to normal human temperatures as his limbs became flesh once more. All so Mayra could rub her eyes behind her aviators without warping them into cinders and junk.

"One of these days, Alma," she said. "We'll HAVE to talk about your participation in the band's responsibilities..."

The sky grew dark, as if reality had shifted sideways and upside down, and a foul wind picked up from out of nowhere.

"What's happening?", Shaushka shouted, panicking.

"It's the Black Torii," Mayra shouted. "They're on their way back!"

Suddenly, there was a shimmed in the distance, and where once was empty space, something began to take shape. And soon, the rotted flesh, the dried blood and blackened bones of the Black Torii took shape.

Alma, scanning the distance with the gate, noticed something.

"Look alive," she warned them. "I don't recognize whatever's coming through, but it's BIG and it looks MEAN!"

Quickly placing themselves in front of Shaushka, Mayra stood tall as Alma growled and bared her fangs. The stomping sounds grew louder and louder, putting the three on edge in anticipation. Then it arrived. Standing fourteen feet tall, with fangs and a crown of horns. Brutish, massive, bestial. All these words and more came to mind as they watched the naked thing running at them. It looked like it was built for war. It looked like it could crush them with its bare hands.

Then Shaushka realized it was carrying something. And one of the things had teal colored hair.

"Guys," Shaushka screamed. "I think that's Yori!"

Mayra could not believe her eyes at her bassist's current form. This thing was powerful. It was MASSIVE. And unlike the bassist's normal form, it was STACKED.

Alma, however, could not fully process what was going on. Her head kept darting from the creature approaching them to Mayra, to Shaushka, to the creature, to Shaushka, to Mayra. Babbling and unable to put a coherent thought together. All she knew was that this was completely opposite to what she had been led to believe.

Bracing her legs, Yori slid to a stop a few feet in front of them, sending up a giant wave of dirt and dust, showering her bandmates in soil, causing Alma to spit and cough from all that had gotten in her mouth.

"Shaushka," Layla screamed from on Yori's hand, tears streaming down her face. "Help! Please, help!"

Running to her friend's aid, she bid Yori lower her hand to give her access. The sight of Brandon's battered and broken body in Layla's arms, his right arm nearly black, the dark red ring around his neck, the way his left leg just twisted in the worst wrong way. She did not need her gifts to see that Brandon was so grievously harmed, he was on the verge of dying.

"It's a miracle you got to him in time," Shaushka said as she kneeled by her Acolyte's side, seeing that he was struggling to barely even breathe. "Hold him still and let me work!"

Layla was trembling as she saw her keyboardist looking him over.

"How bad is he, 'Ska?"

"He is in extremely bad shape," she said, focusing as well as she can to distance herself to do her duty. "His left leg is shattered, his femoral artery has been completely shredded. His arm is shattered in so many spots, he would normally never be able to use it properly ever again. He has a broken collar bone, severely traumatized spine, his skull was nearly dislocated from his spinal column. Punctured lung. Trauma to his throat. My word, they did so much damage to him in such a short amount of time. It's like they were trying to play with him like Alma would a fish."

Alma shot a look of pure anger and frustration.

"It was ONE TIME-"

Mayra got in-between her two bandmates, keeping the peace.

"Just heal him," Mayra told Shaushka, guiding Alma and Yori to follow her to pick up the van as a distraction.

"Please," Layla begged Shaushka. "I can't lose him. Not when I just got him back..."

Shaushka nodded her head and placed her hands over Brandon's broken body. In a blink, her brown eyes became completely golden metallic orbs as a warm, gentle wind rose up from nowhere. Carrying on it the scent of incense and spices, the aroma of fresh baked bread, the sweetness of fruit and honey. A golden glow gently fell upon the Acolyte. His breathing stilled for a moment, then he gasped for air, deeply and greedily and then stilled into the deep breaths of slumber. Layla's tears began to flow once more as she held the man who was her muse tightly. Thanking her lucky stars that her bandmate's domain was Life itself, and that she had not lost her chance to be with the man she cared for most in the world a second time.

[GLKnight]

By the time Brandon woke up, it was already after dark. Sitting up with a groan and a lot of effort, he took a look around and noticed that he wasn't on the college premises anymore. In fact, it looked like...

" Whoa whoa whoa," Yori called out, rushing to his side. "Shaushka told us you shouldn't be getting up just yet after she practically glued you back together again."

"Shaushka?", Brandon asked. "So I'm at your place? Where's Layla?"

Yuri looked around, seemingly nervous about something.

"She's, uh... indisposed at the moment. You should lay back and rest, alright? Do you need a drink?"

Brandon just shook his head and stubbornly began to stand up.

"I can't. I need to see Layla. See if... See if..."

Before he could even take his first step, his legs betrayed his efforts, falling to the floor and grabbing onto Yori's hoodie for support.

"I told you," the pixie sized bassist told him, grabbing underneath his arms and lifting him like he was a five pound bag as she put him back on the couch. "You shouldn't be up yet!"

Brandon's hands went to his hair, tugging it in frustration.

"This doesn't make sense. I was in class, I saw Shelly and she looked radically different, acted radically different. Then it turns out SHE is an Acolyte, tool. And then those goons that all looked the same were chasing me all over. I ran into the stairwell, fell as I was trying to get away from them. Messaged you girls. Got nabbed by... SOMETHING. Was in real pain. You and Layla appear out of nowhere. I passed out, and you're saying that I, what? Was hurt worse than I imagined or something? You make it sound like I was on the verge of dying!"

The Little Oni was pensive and scared to tell him the truth but, she knew she had to.

"Actually, that's what literally happened."

Brandon looked up at her, the reality of what he went through sinking in as she listed every injury he had, from broken bones to torn arteries, punctured lung to severe spinal trauma. Each infliction of pain and what each injury could have meant if they hadn't gotten there in time tallying up in his mind with every word. By the end of it, Brandon was shaking like a leaf and crying from all he had suffered.

"S-so I'll never...," he stuttered, unable to finish the sentence.

"That's not what I'm saying," Yori said, kneeling down and smiling. "That's IF we weren't there for you. This is a two-way street, you know. You're here for us, and we're here for you."

Brandon's head hung low as his eyes turned towards the floor.

"I bet Layla's not doing so well, right now."

Unseen by her Acolyte, Yori looked out towards the backyard, a serious look on her face.

"You don't know the half of it..."
___________________________________________________________________________

In the backyard, Shaushka and Alma stood watch as a massive nimbus of flashing white light loomed in their yard.

"How long have they been in there?", Alma asks, amazed at the sheer amount of power needed to create something like the lightshow she was witnessing.

"Four hours," Shaushka replied, worryingly. Alma's eyes flit between the gravity well in front of them and the house that they somehow prevented from being destroyed and now held their Acolyte, who six hours prior was on death's door. Alma sighed and scratched her ear, then began to stretch.

"She's gotta be exhausted by now. Using so much energy to create THAT much power? She's gonna hurt herself, or worse."

"What can we do?", Shaushka replied to her drummer friend. "You know how Layla deals with things. And since none of us wanted to throw down with her, she chose to work out, instead. Don't know why she dragged Mayra along with her, though."

Alma just shook her head and put her arm around her friend.

"Look, we should head inside and check on Brandon. Mayra's with her, so if anything happens, she'll take care of it. Okay?"

Shaushka glumly nodded her head, put her arm around her friend's waist and headed back inside. Only looking back when she thought she could hear Layla's screams faintly in the roiling thunder and howling wind that came from within the nimbus.