"Right then, lasses," Lena activated her full transformation. The black sludge of the symbiote coated her body as usual, forming spiked armour over the orange latex. This time, she felt not just the power, but a dull irritation from her 'passenger'. The symbiote loathed this place. It reeked of 'holiness' to him. "Ready for a crusade?"
"I was born ready," Nate twirled her pistols. The visor over her eye glowed red, scanning the gloom. "I hope these local padres have some dosh. I need to recoup the costs for the moral injury from that furry drama."
"Goddess, give me strength," Irina whispered, clutching her staff tighter. Her golden glow seemed dim and uncertain in this bleak place. "Anything but undead... I’m terrified of skeletons."
They stepped inside. The Crypt turned out to be more than just a cellar; it was a gargantuan underground complex carved into the rock beneath the Expo Centre. High vaulted ceilings were lost in the darkness, supported by columns featuring bas-reliefs of suffering sinners. Instead of electricity, braziers burned with blue fire, casting dancing shadows. And those shadows were inhabited.
"Contact!" Nate barked, raising her weapons. "Three targets, twelve o'clock!"
The Order of the Silver Hand emerged from behind the columns. Naturally, the System had twisted the concept into something grotesque. In the lead marched two [Penitent Bruisers (Lvl 6)]—massive, bloated figures in rusted plate armour, with something brownish oozing from the gaps. Their faces were hidden by deep hoods, and their hands gripped enormous two-handed hammers studded with nails. They moved slowly, letting out a moan with every step. Skulking behind them was an [Incendiary Fanatic (Lvl 5)]—a lanky, twitchy bloke in a scorched habit, with manic eyes and a censer on a long chain that belched thick, acrid smoke.
"In the name of the Purifying Flame!" the Fire-starter shrieked, swinging the censer. "Die, heretics!"
"Die yourself, mate!" Nate opened up.
Two bolts of plasma slammed into the lead Bruiser's chest. The armour hissed, the metal melted, but the mob didn't even flinch. A red health bar popped up above its head, barely moving.
[Warning! Enemy has increased resistance to energy damage.]
"Crap! They’re armoured!" Nate shouted. "My shooters are just tickling them!"
"Right, we'll have to open these tin cans by hand then!" Lena lunged forward.
She moved far faster than the Bruisers. Ducking under a hammer swing that smashed into the floor with a roar, kicking up a fountain of stone chips, she hacked with her axe-blade at the knee joint of the armour. The black chitin of the symbiote met rusted iron. There was a screech of metal. The blade pierced the armour and bit into flesh. The Bruiser roared. But at that moment, the second opponent, ignoring Nate, spun around with unexpected agility and rammed Lena with its shoulder. The impact, comparable to a collision with an articulated lorry, threw her against a column. The symbiote’s armour held, but it knocked the wind right out of her.
[Damage Received: 350. Health: 75%.]
"Eli!" Irina raised her staff, preparing a heal.
"Not now! Shield! Get the shield up!" Lena rasped, seeing the Incendiary Fanatic hurl his censer in her direction.
The projectile slammed into the golden barrier that appeared before Lena and exploded in a cloud of burning oil and embers. Irina’s shield groaned and shattered.
"Aah! It’s hot!" Irina wailed, caught by the splashes. Her robe began to smoulder again.
"Saintly, wakey-wakey! You need to heal, not burn!" Nate switched to the Fire-starter, trying to land headshots while he reloaded his censer. "Tank, hold the aggro! They're about to switch to me!"
The fight devolved into chaos. They weren't acting like a seasoned team, but like three individuals just trying to survive. Lena, snarling with rage and the pain in her bruised ribs, spun between the Bruisers, taking the brunt of the hammer blows. The symbiote regenerated minor damage, but every hit from 'consecrated' iron stung like acid. Nate was swearing, overheating her pistols in an attempt to find weak spots in the tanks' armour or pick off the nimble Fire-starter hiding behind his 'brothers'. Irina darted between them, fumbling her spells in a panic: throwing a shield on the wrong person, or casting [Beacon] instead of a heal, or putting herself right in the line of fire.
"Irina! Pull yourself together!" Lena screamed, blocking another hammer blow with axe-arms that were trembling from the strain. "Minor Heal on me! Now! I’m at 30% HP!"
Eventually, they managed. Lena managed to hamstrung one Bruiser, and while he was down, Nate shot him point-blank through the helmet’s visor. They ganged up on the second one together. Irina accidentally (or was it?) blinded the Fire-starter with a [Holy Flash] at point-blank range, and Lena simply took his head off. When the last mob dissolved, they collapsed onto the floor right there, amidst puddles of burning oil and shards of armour.
"I... I can't do any more..." Irina lay on her back, panting. Her robe was covered in black scorch marks; her mana was nearly spent. "This is just the start... We won't make it."
"We will," Lena spat out blood, having bitten her lip during the fall. "We haven't got a choice. But bloody hell, that was rough. They’re properly high level."
[Congratulations! You have received 450 Experience.]
The XP was good, but the price was high. They pushed further. The Crypt became deeper, more labyrinthine, and more terrifying. They encountered [Flagellants]—monks who whipped themselves with bladed lashes before flying into an ecstatic frenzy and turning on the heroes, applying a [Bleeding] debuff. In one hall that resembled a torture chamber, they were attacked by an [Iron Maiden (Lvl 7)]—a living torture device that tried to 'embrace' Irina and lock her inside. Lena had to literally tear the metal sarcophagus apart with her hands while Nate shot out the hinges.
They were dying. Not for real, but close to it. Their health bars were constantly flashing red. Mana ran out at the worst possible moments.
"Mana! I need mana!" Irina screamed, fending off two fanatics with daggers using her staff.
"I’ve got the last bottle! Catch!" Nate threw the vial across the entire hall, simultaneously dual-wielding shots at an [Inquisitor Crossbowman] perched on a balcony.
In this hell, they learned. Pain is the best teacher. Lena learned to use the momentum of heavy enemies against them, making the Bruisers knock heads. She began to feel the rhythm of combat, anticipating attacks. The symbiote, though whining from 'holy' damage, grew tougher; its armour thicker. Nate realised her visor could highlight not just enemies, but environmental elements. She shot at chains to drop chandeliers on mobs' heads and blew up oil barrels (how they got there was a mystery of the System, but she was grateful regardless). Irina, having passed the panic stage, started acting on autopilot: shield for the tank, heal for whoever was below half HP, damage buff for Nate when she was ready to fire a volley. She even learned to use [Holy Retribution] not for damage, but to interrupt enemy mages' casting.
After another slaughter in a hall littered with bones, it happened.
[Warning! Level Up!]
[Eli-00 has reached Level 5. Nate has reached Level 5. Ryu Kiko has reached Level 5.]
A wave of warm energy washed away the exhaustion and pain. Wounds closed, mana restored.
"Oh yes..." Lena stretched, feeling her muscles fill with new strength. "What a rush. Level five. Now we can really have a go."
"I’ve unlocked a new skill!" Nate hopped up joyfully. "[Core Overload]. I can blast from both barrels in one massive beam. Mind you, the guns overheat for five seconds afterwards."
"And I’ve got... [Mass Heal]," Irina smiled for the first time in an age. "Now I can heal us all at once. And [Divine Shroud]—it’s like a shield, but beefier and lasts longer."
"Brilliant. We’ve got stronger. But so have they," Lena nodded toward the massive, skull-adorned doors at the end of the hall. "My gut says something very big is waiting for us behind those doors. Likely the antechamber before the boss. And that’s where their High Inquisitor and our vampire bloke will be."
"I'm ready to level this nuthouse," Nate reloaded her pistols.
They approached the doors. Lena leaned her shoulder against them, and the leaves creaked open. They froze. Instead of a boss room, they were faced with a long, brightly lit corridor lined with white tiles. It looked so alien amidst the bleak stone walls of the Crypt that it seemed like a hallucination. At the end of the corridor was an ordinary white plastic door with a glass insert. Above it, a neon sign flickered:
[CLEAN-O-TRON LAUNDRY. OPEN 24/7]
[Zone of Absolute Safety]
"No..." Irina whispered. "It can't be. Again?"
"Is this some kind of joke?" Nate aimed a pistol suspiciously at the sign. "A trap? A mimic pretending to be a launderette?"
"If it's a trap, it's the best one in the world," Lena deactivated her helmet-mask. "I don't care. I'm going in. It’s clean and it doesn't reek of burning fanatics."
They walked cautiously down the tiled corridor. No one attacked them. They pushed the door open. The familiar scent of bleach, floral fabric conditioner, and ozone hit their noses. Rows of washing machines hummed, performing their endless work. In the corner stood the giant Unit—the Merchant. Its screen flickered a welcoming blue.
"Greetings once more, users," the mechanical voice droned. "Detecting significant contamination of equipment with biological fluids, ash, and traces of dark energy. Immediate cleansing is recommended."
"Shut it and take my dosh," Lena walked up to the machine and slapped her palm against the chassis. "We don't just need a wash. We need an upgrade. We’re about to go and kill your head padre, and we need everything you’ve got."
"System protocols permit the installation of modifiers on epic and legendary class equipment," the screen shifted to the shop interface. "Available upgrades depend on your class and current level."
[UPGRADE SHOP]
The girls leaned over the screen, greedily scanning the list. They had accumulated a fair amount of credits—the inquisitors turned out to be wealthy mobs.
"Right, I need something for magic and fire resistance. This symbiote burns like a match," Lena muttered.
"And I need cooldown reduction. To make the guns cool down faster," Nate scrolled through her section.
"I wouldn’t mind… a bit more mana regen. And a boost to my healing," Irina added modestly.
The Merchant presented the options:
[For the 'Symbiote Host' class: 'Abyssal Thermoregulation' Modifier (Lvl 1)] [Properties: +20% fire and Light magic resistance. Passive effect: the symbiote vents excess heat when overheating. Price: 2,500 credits.]
"I’ll take it," Lena said, stabbing at the screen without looking.
[For the 'Space Adventurer' class: 'Plasma Flow Stabilisers' Modifier (Lvl 1)] [Properties: -15% weapon overheat time. +10% accuracy when firing on the move. Increased mobility. Price: 2,200 credits.]
"Mine!" Nate confirmed the purchase.
[For the 'Priestess of Light' class: 'Divine Conduit' Modifier (Lvl 1)] [Properties: +25% mana regeneration speed. 10% boost to all healing spells. Requires direct skin contact for optimal conductivity. Price: 2,000 credits.]
"Oh, that’s exactly what I need!" Irina chirped.
"To install the modifiers, please place your equipment into the restoration chamber," the Merchant droned.
This time, they weren't shy. Shedding their gear (staying in the grey, state-issue boiler suits they’d been given earlier), they loaded everything into the drum. The machine hummed, lights flickering. The process was underway.
"Listen, what do these little notes in the description mean?" Irina asked suddenly. "'Vents excess heat', 'Increased mobility', 'Direct skin contact'… it sounds a bit… dodgy."
"Don't be daft," Lena waved her off. "It’s just game mechanics. It’s all about the stats. With these buffs, we’re going to steamroll that Inquisitor."
The machine played a final chime. The hatch opened, releasing a cloud of steam.
"Order complete. Please collect your modified equipment."
Lena was the first to approach. She reached into the drum and pulled out the Agent Vector suit. As she unfurled it, she froze.
"Er… Merchant? You’ve got a bug. Or you’ve eaten half the fabric."
The orange latex jumpsuit, which had previously covered her from neck to toe, had changed. The sleeves were gone—it was now a top with bare shoulders. Huge, symmetrical cut-outs had appeared on the hips and sides, covered only by a thin, almost invisible mesh. The legs were shorter, turned into capris ending just below the knee. The zip on her chest now ended much lower and, apparently, wouldn't even zip up all the way.
[System: 'Abyssal Thermoregulation' modifier installed. Ventilation ports added for efficient symbiote cooling.]
"Ventilation ports?!" Lena held the suit up to herself. If she wore this, she wouldn't look like a special agent; she’d look like a stripper at a themed hen do. "Are you taking the mickey? How am I supposed to fight in this?"
"Optimisation performed according to the technical brief," the Unit replied dispassionately. "To increase overheat protection, the area of exposed skin must be expanded."
Lena cursed under her breath but started to change. It felt strange. The symbiote beneath her skin purred more contentedly than usual. It liked the freedom. But Lena herself felt half-naked. The mesh on her hips hid nothing, and the neckline was positively scandalous.
"Fine. At least it’s not stuffy," she noted grimly, summoning her blades. They appeared faster than before.
The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.
Nate was next. She pulled out her outfit and let out a shriek. Her magnificent pirate peacoat had turned into a tiny bolero that barely covered her shoulder blades. Her thigh-high boots were now dainty ankle boots. And what had previously been shorts beneath the coat were now very high-cut bikini bottoms with a belt for her holsters.
[System: 'Plasma Flow Stabilisers' modifier installed. Lightweight construction for maximum mobility and ventilation during firing.]
"Mobility?!" Nate squeezed into the 'costume'. "I won't be able to bend over in this without flashing the whole world! I’m a pirate, not a porn star! Mind you… wait."
She looked at her reflection in the drum door. The bolero pushed her chest out nicely in the bikini, and the high-cut knickers made her legs look miles long. The eye-visor and the pistols in the thigh holsters completed the look.
"Hmm…" Nate twirled. "Actually… there’s something to this. Aggressive. Sexy. The subscribers will love it. And it really is easier to run in."
Irina was the last to approach the machine. She pulled out her robe and turned a shade of red that matched the emergency lighting in the 'Red Sector'. The white, chaste mantle of the Priestess of Light had undergone the most radical changes. It was now a form-fitting white dress made of thin, flowing fabric with a slit from the thigh almost to the waist. The plunging neckline was so deep it required an engineering miracle (or magic) to keep everything in place. The back was entirely open.
[System: 'Divine Conduit' modifier installed. Maximum skin contact area for superior Light mana conductivity.]
"I… I can't wear this!" Irina whispered, clutching the dress to her chest. "It’s… it’s a sin! My mum will kick me out of the house!"
"Irina, put it on," Lena commanded, having already resigned herself to her own look. "We need your mana. If that means showing off your knees and then some—so be it. It’s a combat objective."
Almost in tears, Irina changed. When she stepped out, Lena gave a long whistle.
"Bloody hell, Saintly. Irka, you’re a proper ten."
Irina stood there, trying to simultaneously cover the leg slit and her cleavage, which was physically impossible. But she felt the power. The mana in her body was bubbling like fizzy pop. The staff in her hand glowed so brightly it was painful to look at.
"It’s… very embarrassing," she muttered. "But I feel… full of energy."
The three of them stood in the middle of the laundry. Agent Vector in a BDSM-boutique outfit, the Space Pirate in a beach set, and the Priestess of Light in a high-end escort evening dress.
"The System is definitely a bloke," Nate declared confidently, adjusting her thigh holster. "No doubt about it. Some pervy game designer."
"Doesn't matter," Lena transformed both arms into blades. The black chitin now contrasted sharply with her bare shoulders and hips. "We’re more powerful now. Can you feel it?"
They could. Power was overflowing. New abilities tingled at their fingertips.
"Right then, 'Battle Bikini' squad," Lena smirked. "Let’s go and kick the High Inquisitor's arse. Let’s show him what real heresy looks like."
They stepped out of the laundry back into the bleak corridor of the Crypt. The door vanished behind them as if it had never existed. Ahead, around the corner, they could hear the solemn chanting of a choir and the crackle of ritual fire. The finale was close.
The massive double doors, adorned with bas-reliefs of sinners writhing in fire, were the final barrier. Behind them, they heard more than just singing—a powerful, organ-like hum that made the diaphragm vibrate, overlaid with the rhythmic thud of a massive drum.
"Right then, 'Sexy Heresy' squad," Lena adjusted the strap of her new, overly revealing top. The symbiote beneath her skin hissed; it didn't like the sound. "Ready to crash this party?"
"I hope they’ve got air-con in there," Nate grumbled, fanning herself with a pistol. In her new "beach" kit, she wasn't hot, but the damp air of the crypt was sticking to her bare skin. "Otherwise my plasma core is going to overheat before the fight even starts."
"Goddess, protect my honour… and my mana," Irina whispered, gripping her staff so hard her knuckles turned white. She tried to stay behind Lena’s back so the extreme slit in her dress wasn't quite so conspicuous.
"On three. One. Two. We're going in!"
Using the symbiote's reinforced legs, Lena took a running start and slammed her shoulder into the doors. The ancient wood and metal groaned piteously and flew open. They expected to see another bleak tomb. But the System, apparently, had decided the finale needed a bit of scale.
It was a colossal hall, carved into the heart of the rock. The ceiling was lost in the heights, supported by columns as thick as redwoods. Massive braziers with blue and gold fire burned everywhere, illuminating the space brighter than day. In the centre rose a ziggurat—a stepped pyramid with an altar at the top. Around it, on different levels of the pyramid, stood dozens of hooded figures—the choir and a "fan club" of lesser fanatics. They sang, swaying in a trance.
But the girls' eyes were drawn to the summit. Chained to the altar with glowing metal links lay he—Vlad, prince of the Blood Rose clan. And frankly, he looked a mess. Scrawny, pale, in a torn silk shirt and leather trousers. His long black hair was a tangled mess, and his face held an expression not so much of terror, but of deathly exhaustion and… shame?
And looming over him was She.
The High Inquisitor of the Order of the Silver Hand.
Lena had expected a withered old man with manic eyes or a massive armoured bloke. She hadn't expected this. A woman. Tall, statuesque, with the physique of a fitness model. She wore armour… if you could call it that. A fantasy on the theme of inquisitor plate, designed by someone who usually made high-end fetish gear.
The breastplate of polished silver, adorned with golden sun and flame symbols, was forged to maximise her prominent, truly monumental bust. It seemed the metal could barely contain that power. Her waist was cinched in a corset that transitioned into armoured "knickers" and plate thigh-guards, leaving the inner thighs exposed. On her feet were high-heeled boots that looked like weapons in their own right. Her face was hidden by a hood, but strands of flame-red hair escaped from beneath it. In one hand, she held a massive, ruby-encrusted rod that looked like a sceptre, and in the other, a cat-o'-nine-tails whose tips glowed with molten gold.
[LOCATION BOSS: High Inquisitor Valerika the Redeemer (Lvl 10)]
[Type: Light Mage / Dominatrix]
Valerika wasn’t performing a ritual of purification. She was… playing. She was tracing the tip of her glowing whip across the chest of the chained vampire, leaving smoking trails on his shirt.
“Now then, my sweet little ghoul,” her voice, amplified by magic, echoed throughout the hall. It was deep, throaty, and possessed a huskiness that sent shivers down Lena’s spine—and not from fear. “Show me your fangs. Hiss at me. You’re a predator, aren't you?”
“P-please, Mistress…” the ‘formidable vampire prince’ whimpered. “Let me go… I won’t drink the blood of virgins anymore, I swear… I’ll go vegan…”
“Vegan?” Valerika burst out laughing, a sound like the clinking of falling gold coins. “How dreadfully dull. I’ve only just started to find my rhythm. Your pale skin provides such a lovely contrast with the scorch marks of holy fire…”
“Erm…” Nate lowered her pistols, staring at the scene with her mouth agape. “I mean, I understand the Pirate Code and all that, but… is this definitely the Inquisition? It looks more like a shoot for a very specific website.”
“I told you!” Lena felt a surge of irrational rage. “This world is mental! The System is mental! And this woman is the queen of the nuthouse!”
The noise below caught Valerika’s attention. She slowly turned her hooded head toward them.
“Oh? Guests?” She straightened to her full, considerable height, causing her silver cuirass to shift and catch the firelight. “Who dares interrupt my… confession?”
She threw back her hood. The High Inquisitor’s face was hauntingly beautiful—possessing sharp, commanding features, piercing green eyes, and full lips curled into an arrogant smirk. A tattoo of a stylised flame adorned her left cheek. She raked her eyes over the trio of heroines, lingering on their new outfits. Her eyebrow rose ironically.
“Hmph. I see heresy is in fashion these days,” she purred. “Ventilated orange latex? A bikini and a holster? And you, my child…” She looked at Irina, who was trying to hide behind her staff. “Is that a priestess’s gown? It looks more like the sort of thing used to greet clients in a dockside brothel after midnight.”
“It’s… it’s the ‘Divine Conduit’ modifier!” Irina squeaked, turning scarlet to the roots of her hair. “For better mana conductivity!”
“Oh, I’m sure the conductivity is excellent,” Valerika smirked. “Have you come for him? For this pathetic sack of haemoglobin?”
She carelessly poked the vampire in the ribs with her heel. He gave a piteous groan.
“We’ve come to finish the quest and clear out of this hole!” Lena shouted, transforming her arms into axe-blades. “Hand over the keys and the vampire, and no one gets hurt. Well, except your pride.”
Valerika roared with laughter. The choir of fanatics on the pyramid joined in, turning the laughter into a manic cacophony.
“Take him? From me? My new toy?” Her eyes flared with golden fire. “You silly little slappers. You haven't the faintest idea who you’re dealing with. I am the Flame that purifies! I am the Light that punishes! And today, I shall teach you a lesson in true humility!”
She flicked her rod. A beam of concentrated light tore from the ceiling and slammed into the floor in front of the heroines, leaving a smoking crater.
[Combat Initiated!]
“Scatter!” Lena commanded. “Irina, shields! Nate, fire at will! I’m tanking this cow!”
They bolted in different directions, using the columns for cover. Valerika was strong. Properly strong. She didn't just stand there casting spells; she moved with the grace of a panther despite her heels and ‘armour’. With a crack of her cat-o'-nine-tails, the golden tails lengthened by several metres, turning into fiery serpents that lashed across the hall.
“Ow!” Nate barely managed to roll away; the whip singed her side, leaving a red mark on her skin right at the edge of her bikini. “Hot, you bitch!”
Nate retaliated with a double volley from her plasma-casters. Bolts of energy flew toward the boss. Valerika didn't even flinch. She thrust her rod forward, and a shimmering golden barrier appeared before her in the shape of a shield bearing the Inquisition’s crest. The plasma dissipated harmlessly against it.
“Weak,” the Inquisitor snorted. “Is that all your toys are capable of, pirate?”
At that moment, Lena, utilising her new-found speed, ran up the side wall of the pyramid and leaped at Valerika from above, swinging her blades for the strike.
“Take this, ‘Dominatrix’! Abyssal Strike!”
Valerika reacted instantly. She spun around, and her whip lashed upward, coiling around Lena’s body in mid-air. The golden threads bit into the orange latex, burning her skin through the cut-away sections.
“Caught you, little beastie,” Valerika yanked the whip, violently slamming Lena onto the stone slabs of the altar, right at the vampire’s feet.
The impact knocked the wind out of Lena.
[Damage Received: 450 (Light Burn). Health: 60%.]
“Eli!” Irina, hiding behind a column below, raised her staff.
She felt dreadful in this dress. It felt as if every fanatic on the pyramid was staring solely at her legs and back. Shame stiffened her movements, making it hard to focus on the spell.
“Come on… Minor Heal…” she whispered, but the magic was sluggish, the spell failing to catch.
“Irina, pull yourself together!” Nate shouted, continuing to pepper the boss with fire to distract her. “Forget the dress! Think about the mana!”
Valerika towered over the fallen Lena, pinning her down with a heel to her chest, right between the sections where the latex had been cut away.
“A symbiote…” she purred, looking at Lena’s black blades. “How revolting. A filthy dark creature in such an… appetising body. You need to be purified. This filth must be burned out.”
She raised her rod; its tip began to glow white-hot, gathering energy for a massive point-blank strike.
“Irina, now!” Lena roared, struggling to break free from the heel.
Irina squeezed her eyes shut. Stuff the shame! Stuff all of it! If I don't cast this now, Eli’s dead! She remembered the Merchant’s words: “Direct skin contact.”
She sprinted from behind the column, dropped to her knees on the cold stone (the slit in her dress falling wide open, though she no longer cared), and slammed her staff and both palms into the floor with all her might.
“DIVINE SHROUD!”
The magic surged out of her in a torrent. She felt every inch of her exposed skin absorbing mana from the surrounding space, bolstering the spell. The modifier was working! A powerful, pulsing golden dome erupted around Lena, right beneath Valerika’s foot. The blow from the Inquisitor’s rod slammed into the shield. A resounding boom followed, like the tolling of a great bell. The shield held, throwing Valerika back a few paces.
“You little brat!” Valerika glared at Irina with pure hatred. “Your ‘holiness’ is as fake as your dress! I shall deal with you later!”
“Cheers, mate!” Lena scrambled to her feet. The pain from the burns subsided under the shield’s regenerative effect.
Now she could feel the ‘Abyssal Thermoregulation’ modifier working. Previously, after a series of attacks like that, the symbiote would have started to overheat, burning her from the inside and demanding a breather. But now, wisps of hot steam were escaping through the mesh cut-outs on her hips and sides. The suit was ‘breathing’. The symbiote was cooling instantly.
“Oi, Valerika!” Lena took a combat stance. Her blades lengthened, growing broader. “Nice rack. Grow them yourself or did the System gift them to you?”
Valerika hissed with rage. Her face contorted.
“How dare you… I shall grind you to dust!”
[Boss entering Phase 2: 'Righteous Rage']
The silver armour on Valerika’s chest began to glow red-hot. An unbearable heat radiated from her. The air around her began to shimmer.
“Die in the Fire of Purification!” she spread her arms wide.
A circular wave of fire erupted from her body, rolling across the entire summit of the pyramid, sweeping everything in its path.
“Jump!” Nate shouted.
They leaped. Nate, using her ‘Stabilisers’, soared higher than usual, hovering for a second while raining fire down on the boss. Lena jumped over the wave, using her blades as vaulting poles. Irina took cover behind the altar, huddling in a ball next to the screeching vampire.
The wave of fire subsided, but Valerika had no intention of stopping. She began casting something massive. An enormous orb of white-hot plasma—a miniature sun—was forming above her head.
“It’s a wipe mechanic!” Nate realised, her visor flashing frantically, showing a maximum threat level. “If she drops that, we’re toast! We have to interrupt the cast!”
“How?! She’s got a shield!” Lena tried to hurl a torn piece of chain, but it simply evaporated before it reached her.
“Irina! Your turn!” Lena shouted. “You’re a priestess! You must have some kind of ‘Holy Silence’!”
Irina peered out from behind the altar. The massive sun above Valerika’s head pulsed, ready to plummet. The heat was unbearable; Irina’s dress clung to her sweaty body.
"I must... I can..." she thought feverishly. Her gaze fell on Vlad. The vampire was staring at her with eyes widened in terror.
"Help..." he whispered with just his lips.
Irina felt a strange surge of resolve. Not for herself. For him. For the girls. She stood up to her full height, directly under the scorching rays of the artificial sun, and raised her staff high above her head.
"Oi, you botoxed-up fanatic!" Irina shouted, surprised by the strength in her own voice. "Your light is wrong! It doesn't heal, it only burns! Watch how it's done!"
She concentrated every drop of her mana. The modifier on her skin grew white-hot, causing sharp pain, but she endured it.
"TRUE LIGHT: FLASH OF GRACE!"
It wasn't a combat spell. It was a mass-cleanse and blinding spell. A pillar of pure, white, cold light erupted from Irina’s staff. It slammed directly into the fireball above Valerika’s head. The two types of magic collided with a deafening crack. The Inquisitor’s crimson flame wrestled with the priestess’s pure light.
"No! You wouldn't dare! My magic is stronger!" Valerika strained, her face turning purple from the effort, the veins in her neck and... cleavage bulging.
"Go on, Irka! Give her what for!" Nate screamed, continuing to fire in an attempt to breach the boss's weakened shield.
Irina poured her last bit of strength into the spell. Her legs gave way and she fell to her knees, but she kept holding the staff, directing the flow of light. The fireball couldn't take the pressure; it destabilised.
With a monstrous roar, the sphere collapsed and then exploded—not outward, but inward, triggering a magical backlash. The blast threw Valerika back. Her shield shattered into a thousand pieces. The rod was wrenched from her hand, flying off into the darkness of the crypt. The Inquisitor herself fell onto her back, her silver breastplate dented and covered in soot. She lay there, stunned and panting, her magnificent chest heaving.
[Boss stunned for 10 seconds!]
"Now!" Lena didn't wait for an invitation.
She lunged at the fallen boss. The symbiote, cooled and full of energy, roared with fury. She leapt onto Valerika, pinning her to the floor. The blades on her arms transformed, becoming shorter but broader, turning into something resembling massive claws.
"That's for 'beastie'! That's for Irka! And that's for wearing better armour than me, you cow!"
Lena began to strike. Fast, ruthless. Black claws shredded the silver armour, ripping off plates and reaching the flesh. Valerika tried to shield herself with her arms, shrieking, but without her magic and her rod, she was helpless in close combat against a symbiote-berserker.
"Nate, finish her!"
Nate ran up, stood over them, and aimed both pistols at the Inquisitor’s head.
"Core Overload!" she commanded. "Smile for the birdie, love! Here comes... a very big birdie!"
She pulled the triggers. Two powerful streams of plasma merged into one, hitting Valerika square in the face. A shriek rang out, dissolving into digital static. The High Inquisitor’s body convulsed and began to break apart into chunks of burning code and polygons. A second later, it was all over. In place of the formidable Dominatrix, there was only a pile of ash and a massive heap of shining loot. The choir of fanatics below fell silent instantly and then began to fade into the air—without their leader, they were nothing.
[BOSS DEFEATED!] [Quest 'Forbidden Love' — Stage 'Rescue' Complete.]
[Congratulations! You have received 2000 Experience.]
[Level Up! You have reached Level 7.]
Lena stood up, breathing heavily, shaking ash from her claws. The symbiote slowly retracted, leaving her in her "ventilated" suit. Irina approached them unsteadily, leaning on her staff. She was pale, her mana at zero, but a new spark burned in her eyes—pride.
"We... we did it," she exhaled.
Nate was already rummaging through the loot.
"Blimey! Girls, we've hit the jackpot! Gold, some scrolls... Oh, and what’s this?"
She picked up an item from the floor that had dropped from Valerika. A massive key decorated with skulls.
[Item: Key to the Twilight Gates (Quest Item)]
"Got the key!" Nate tossed it into the air and caught it. "Let's leg it!"
They walked over to the altar where the chained vampire still lay. Vlad looked at them with reverent awe.
"Oh, great warriors..." he whispered. "You have freed me from that... tyrant! How can I ever repay you?"
Lena grimaced with distaste and struck the chains with her blade, shearing through them.
"For a start, put some clothes on," she said, tossing him a cloak she’d snatched from one of the vanishing fanatics. "And stop shaking, you half-baked prince of darkness. Your furry mate is waiting at the entrance. Go and tell her we held up our end of the deal."
The vampire, tangling himself in the cloak, scrambled off the altar.
"Yes, yes, of course! My Lyra! I must hurry to her! Thank you! You are true heroines!"
He turned into a cloud of bats (admittedly, rather scrawny, mangy ones) and flew off toward the exit with a squeak.
"Right," Nate drawled, watching him go. "We slogged away for that pathetic git? I’m disappointed in vampires. No drama, just issues."
"At least we levelled up," Lena noted sensibly, feeling the new Level 7 power coursing through her veins. "And we’ve updated our gear. And I think we’ve become... a team?"
She looked at Irina, who, despite her exhaustion and embarrassment over her outfit, was standing straight and confident. She looked at Nate, who was happily counting her credits.
"Something like that," Nate smirked. "As long as you don't get in the way of my farming, we're a team."
"Let's go," Irina said, heading for the exit first. "I want out of this dungeon. And maybe I can find somewhere to sew a few scraps of fabric onto this dress."
They moved toward the exit, leaving behind the cooling ziggurat and the ashes of the High Inquisitor. Ahead lay the Twilight Gates and, as they hoped, the path to the next, less insane zone of the Expo Centre. Though, knowing the System, that was a faint hope indeed.