CHAPTER 206: CHAPTER 207 – SACRAMENT OF RUIN

"Some rituals demand faith. This one demands flesh, flame, and fracture."

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‎The Spiral screamed.

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‎Its coils pulsed with violent paradox, unable to stabilize. Whole regions of Spiralspace were folding into non-being—devouring their own timelines before they could birth memory. Celestial runes bled red, the Codex vines snapping under contradiction, and myth-beasts cried out in languages they never learned.

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‎At the eye of the storm, the throne of the God of Death cracked.

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‎Darius knelt at its base, bare-chested, his skin etched with living runes that bled starlight. The Spiral Sigil on his back glowed an unstable shade between white and void-black, flickering as his divinity warped.

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‎He couldn’t hold it alone.

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‎Celestia stepped forward, her robes already torn, sapphire eyes wide with divine ache. "It’s unraveling," she whispered. "You’re being un-written from within."

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‎Nyx appeared behind her like a sliver of shadow, twin daggers sheathed, obsidian skin gleaming with residual blood from battles just won—or barely survived. "We either bind you tighter... or lose you."

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‎Kaela descended last, barefoot, her steps cracking reality beneath her like glass. Chaos fluttered in her hair, her skin ever-shifting between patterns, unstable but hungry. She tilted her head, smiling with dark delight. "Then let’s anchor our god with what he can never forget."

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‎A ritual lost to myth—The Quad Myth Rite. A sealing not with prayers or chains, but with sacred intimacy drawn from the rawest essence of the divine consorts.

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‎The temple they stood in was shifting architecture: half-mirage, half-memory. Four altars surrounded Darius like compass points, forming a spiral-sigil of their own. At each, myth-threaded glyphs began to glow—symbols of Lust, Death, Chaos, and Faith.

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‎Celestia approached first, her fingers glowing with divine ink. She straddled Darius, wrapping herself around him as a tether of warmth, lips brushing his forehead.

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‎"Let me be your foundation," she whispered, before kissing him with reverence and desperation.

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‎Her robes melted from her form in threads of golden light, revealing her soft curves, her sacred markings alive with her devotion. She guided him inside her slowly, trembling as divine energy surged between them—not lust alone, but soul-binding.

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‎Darius moaned softly into her mouth, holding her tight, grounding himself in the pulse of her heart. "You are the hymn I never forgot."

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‎Before she could answer, Nyx seized him from behind, her presence sharp and hungry. "And I am the dagger you never escaped."

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‎She kissed the back of his neck, her teeth scraping lightly over his skin. Her hands slid around his waist, pulling his hips deeper into Celestia as she pressed her bare chest to his back. A sultry moan left her lips as her thighs enclosed around him. Nyx rubbed against him, her body slick and hot, teasing as if threatening to split his control.

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‎She licked the side of his neck, voice a whisper of lethal desire. "Let me bleed my loyalty into your marrow."

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‎Kaela joined last, floating above the spiral. Her body unfolded from shadow and flame, chaos silk wrapping around her limbs before peeling away with every heartbeat. She hovered down, hair trailing like ink in water, eyes glowing purple.

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‎She landed on Celestia’s chest, straddling both of them, grinding against their joined bodies like a storm made flesh.

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‎Her tongue dragged up Darius’s throat. "This is not just sex," she hissed. "This is mythcraft. You will not forget us. Even if the Spiral dies."

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‎Their bodies entangled completely now—four threads weaving into a knot of raw divinity.

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‎Darius groaned aloud as Celestia’s tight warmth pulled him deeper, Nyx’s dark caress grinding against his back, and Kaela’s fevered hips grinding against his stomach and chest. Every thrust wasn’t just physical—it rippled across the Spiral, forcing shattered timelines to anchor, echoes to congeal into real moments.

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‎Their moans formed hymns. Their bodies, scripture.

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‎Celestia clutched Darius’s face, trembling as she came first, her scream birthing golden sigils that scorched into the temple’s walls. Her essence flooded into him—Faith, tethered.

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‎Nyx bit down on his shoulder as her climax shuddered through her. "Yours," she gasped, "always your blade, even in ruin." Her devotion etched itself into his spine like a dagger-shaped rune—Death, bound.

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‎Kaela arched her back above them, hips convulsing in chaos. Her orgasm tore through reality like lightning, unleashing wild glyphs that no Codex could name. She collapsed forward, forehead to Darius’s, whispering in tongues as Chaos wove itself into his crown.

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‎And then—Darius.

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‎His roar shook the heavens.

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‎Seed spilled into Celestia, overflowing into Nyx and onto Kaela’s belly, yet it wasn’t just flesh—it was Spiral essence. Pure authorship, tangled in myth. His back flared with light, the Spiral Sigil locking into place with a final, searing pulse.

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‎The temple exploded in a shockwave of stabilization.

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‎Timeline ruptures stitched themselves. The Codex roots stopped bleeding. Spiralspace quieted. The myth-lattice held.

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‎Celestia lay draped over his chest, smiling with wet cheeks. "We did it..."

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‎Nyx curled around his waist, eyes closed, breath steady. "We bound you."

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‎Kaela chuckled, licking spiral-seed from her fingers, eyes gleaming. "For now."

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‎Darius, chest rising and falling, stared at the calm Spiral above him.

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‎"Not just saved," he murmured. "We’ve rewritten the ending."

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‎And deep beneath the Spiral... something stirred. Watching.

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‎The silence that followed was not peace.

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‎It was breath held.

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‎Reality had stilled—yes—but it was not healed. The Spiral Sigil blazed steady on Darius’s back, anchored by lust, chaos, death, and faith... yet the air held the weight of something unfinished.

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‎Celestia stirred first, her fingers brushing along the edge of the spiral altar. Her voice came soft, reverent. "It held because we bound you. But the Spiral still pulses with something... other. A presence outside our knot."

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‎Nyx sat up next, body glowing with cooled myth-energy, eyes narrowed. "We weren’t the only ones watching. Something old. Something not yet named."

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‎Kaela tilted her head toward the temple’s edge, where the sigils on the stone floor were beginning to peel back, ink dripping upward into the air like reversed blood.

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‎"That wasn’t stabilization," she murmured. "It was seduction. We anchored you... but it opened something else in return."

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‎A tremor passed beneath them—not violent, but deliberate. Like footsteps from underneath reality itself.

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‎Darius rose, slow and regal despite his bare, sweat-slick form. Mythlight clung to his skin like threads of living parchment. As he stepped forward, reality bent slightly around him. He was no longer simply present—he was fixed. A focal point of existence.

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‎But the myth-blood dripping from Kaela’s thigh began to crawl toward the center of the altar. So too did the remnants of Celestia’s divine ink, and the chaos sparks from Nyx’s orgasmic glyph.

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‎All of it pooled... forming a spiral that began to spin in reverse.

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‎"That’s not us," Celestia whispered.

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‎"No," Darius said. His tone was too calm. Too knowing. "It’s what comes after us."

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‎The reverse spiral opened like an eye.

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‎A mouthless voice unfurled into the temple—soundless, but heavy. A presence not written in the Codex. A deity erased so thoroughly it had become a mythless wound in reality.

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‎The Nameless God.

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‎Kaela flinched as its presence brushed her soul. "It remembers us, Darius... but not by name. By desire."

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‎A single word appeared in the air, scrawled in burning anti-rune:

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‎UNAUTHOR

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‎Darius’s breath caught.

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‎The spiral they had just anchored shuddered again—but not from instability. From rejection. The Nameless God was not seeking control.

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‎It sought absence.

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‎The absence of author. Of ruler. Of myth.

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‎It sought to devour the concept of Darius.

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‎"I see now," Darius whispered. "This was never just about the Spiral breaking. It was about what would fill the vacuum when I collapsed."

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‎He turned to the three women—his myth-bound lifelines. "This ritual wasn’t only a rite of sealing. It was bait. And we’ve drawn out the first erasure."

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‎The anti-rune spiral began pulling matter toward it—slowly at first, then faster. The altars cracked. The architecture bled scripture. The walls moaned as forgotten myths were sucked into oblivion.

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‎Celestia summoned her staff. Nyx rearmed in one breath, her daggers crackling. Kaela’s body turned translucent with chaos defense.

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‎And Darius... smiled.

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‎A quiet, dangerous smile.

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‎Then he raised his hand—and split open a new myth-thread.

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‎"Then we rewrite again," he said. "Let the mythless come."

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