Lust Sync: Every Woman Wants Me Now

The night in Lagos shimmered with neon lights and dangerous temptations, the city's pulse bleeding through concrete and steel like a living thing. The club—Euphoria, one of Victoria Island's most exclusive haunts—was alive, vibrating with energy that surged through the floor like an underground current of lust and adrenaline. Bass lines thundered through bodies pressed against each other in rhythmic waves, sweat and perfume mixing into an intoxicating cocktail that made normal people lose themselves completely.

Charles sat in the most coveted VVIP booth, elevated above the dance floor like a modern-day emperor surveying his domain. His arm was draped around Halima, the sultry media executive who had once looked down on him with barely concealed disgust at industry parties. Now she clung to him like a lifeline, her designer dress riding higher on her crossed legs, lips slightly parted in unconscious invitation, her heart syncing to his rhythm without her even realizing it.

Lust Sync was active—and dangerous.

The system pulsed through him like liquid fire, connecting him to every person within his expanding radius. He could feel their desires, their hidden wants, their desperate needs. The waitress stealing glances at his watch. The businessman's wife texting her lover. The security guard fantasizing about the woman in the red dress across the room.

But tonight wasn't about fun. It was a mission.

Ever since the Syndicate's failed attempt to capture him at the Eko Hotel—where bodies had dropped and blood had stained marble floors—Charles knew he was no longer just prey. He had evolved into something they couldn't predict or control, which made him infinitely more dangerous. Winona's warning still echoed in his head, her voice tight with fear she'd never shown before.

"The Syndicate doesn't forgive, Charles. You didn't just escape—you humiliated them. Made them look weak. Now they'll send someone who doesn't play by the old rules. Someone who specializes in handling... anomalies."

So Charles had made himself impossible to ignore. Too much money flowing too freely. Too many high-profile women falling under his influence. Too many whispers in boardrooms about the mysterious young man who could make CEOs beg and socialites abandon their marriages with a single glance. He wanted them to come to him, to bring their best weapon to his chosen battlefield.

Because he wasn't running anymore.

He was hunting.

"Charlie," Halima purred, her perfectly manicured nails trailing across his chest through his silk shirt, leaving invisible fire in their wake. "You're so... different these days. It's intoxicating. Everyone's watching you, talking about you. Even my assistant—you know, the one with the MBA from Oxford—she actually asked if she could get a... taste."

Her pupils were dilated, her breathing shallow. The Lust Sync was working its magic, rewriting neural pathways with surgical precision.

He smirked, letting the system flare just enough to make her shiver with need. "Tell her to come tomorrow. But clear your schedule first."

Halima nodded eagerly, her usual professional composure completely shattered. That was the Sync's true power—not just physical attraction, but complete emotional and psychological dominance. Complete loyalty, if he wanted it. Complete destruction, if he preferred.

His eyes swept the crowd below, cataloguing faces, identifying potential threats. Club security was compromised—he'd sensed their nervous energy the moment he'd walked in. Someone had gotten to them. The Syndicate was already here, watching, waiting for the right moment to spring their trap.

Then he saw her.

A figure in red stood motionless near the bar, untouched by the chaos surrounding her. Tall, elegant, wearing a backless gown that seemed to absorb light rather than reflect it. Crimson hair fell in perfect waves down her spine, and her eyes were hidden behind designer shades despite the club's dim atmosphere.

She didn't belong—not in the way that mattered. The crowd unconsciously avoided her space, creating a bubble of emptiness around her like animals sensing a predator. Her drink sat untouched on the bar, condensation pooling around the glass. And when their eyes met across the crowded room, Charles felt something he hadn't experienced in weeks.

Fear.

Not his own—but radiating from his system like a warning siren.

Charles stood abruptly, causing Halima to protest with a soft whimper. "I'll be back," he said, his voice carrying just enough command to keep her seated and compliant.

He moved through the crowd with predatory grace, his system automatically clearing a path as people unconsciously stepped aside. The closer he got to the woman in red, the more his interface flickered with warning symbols. Unknown energy signature. Hostile intent detected. System interference patterns.

"You came," Charles said when he reached her, his voice barely audible over the pounding music.

"I never left," she replied, removing her shades with deliberate slowness. Her eyes were violet—not colored contacts, but genuinely unnatural. They held depths that made his system recoil. "You've made quite the mess, Mr. Manson. Bodies in hotels. Prominent families destroyed by scandal. The natural order disrupted by a boy who thinks he understands power."

"And who are you? Another Syndicate puppet come to drag me back to whatever hole they crawled out of?"

Her smile was serene, but there was nothing peaceful about the energy radiating from her core. It felt like standing next to a nuclear reactor wrapped in silk. "I'm not like the others they've sent. The crude thugs, the desperate assassins, the politicians they thought could buy you. They call me Venom. I'm the Syndicate's final offer."

Charles raised an eyebrow, his system automatically scanning for weaknesses. It found none. "Final offer?"

"Surrender now. They'll erase your debts, wipe your past clean, relocate you somewhere comfortable. You could even keep using your... gift, under proper supervision. Live a long, controlled life."

"Or?"

Her smile widened, revealing perfect white teeth that somehow looked predatory. "Or I kill you and extract your system for proper analysis. We've learned so much since our last encounter. New techniques. Better equipment. Your death won't even be particularly painful."

Charles laughed, the sound carrying genuine amusement. "You think you can just take Lust Sync from me? Like removing a tumor?"

Venom leaned closer, her scent hitting him like a physical force—not perfume, but something deeper. Pheromones designed to bypass conscious thought and attack the limbic system directly. "Your system isn't unique, Charles. It's just... unstable. Unpredictable. A prototype that was never meant to bond with someone like you. But you forced the connection, broke the safeguards. Now it's mutating beyond our original parameters."

His pulse slowed as that word—mutating—triggered cascade alerts in his interface.

**[Lust Sync - Mutation Level 1 Activated]**

**[Warning: Unstable Energy Detected]**

**[New Skill Available: Seduce or Destroy]**

**[Caution: Mutation may alter host personality permanently]**

His confident smirk faltered.

Venom stepped closer, close enough that her breath warmed his neck. Her body language was perfect—predatory yet inviting, dangerous yet desirable. She wasn't using normal seduction techniques.

She was syncing with him. System to system.

"You have abilities," he realized, his voice dropping to a whisper.

"I do," she confirmed, her hand reaching toward his face. "But mine isn't Lust-based. It's Toxin-class. I convert desire into poison, pleasure into pain. Every system has a weakness, Charles. Even yours."

Charles took a step back, every instinct screaming danger. His interface erupted with warnings.

**[System Alert: Immune Resistance Initiated]**

**[Danger: Toxin-Based System Detected]**

**[Recommendation: Immediate Retreat Advised]**

But retreat wasn't an option. Not anymore.

Venom reached for his hand with fluid grace, but Charles sidestepped and grabbed her wrist instead. Her skin was fever-hot, and he could feel something moving beneath the surface—not blood, but liquid corruption.

"You're trying to infect me," he said, his grip tightening.

"And you're trying to seduce me," she replied calmly. "We're both monsters now, Charles. But only one of us walks away from this encounter."

Then the music cut out.

Not faded—stopped completely, as if someone had pulled a universal plug.

The lights dimmed to emergency amber, casting long shadows across suddenly empty space. The crowd hadn't left—they had simply vanished, dissolved like mirages in desert heat. The air itself shimmered with artificial energy.

A holographic field materialized around them, walls of crackling light that pulsed with their own heartbeats. The club became an arena, sterile and purposeful.

Charles spun around, tension coiling in his muscles. "You cleared the entire club?"

Venom's laugh was musical and terrible. "No, darling. I cleared the world around us. Welcome to a pocket dimension. No witnesses. No interruptions. No escape."

**[System Location Locked: Isolated Combat Zone]**

**[Arena Type: Lust vs. Toxin - Incompatible Systems]**

**[Exit Conditions: Death or Complete System Overload]**

**[Warning: Host survival probability 23%]**

Charles felt his system respond to the challenge, power coursing through neural pathways that had been dormant until this moment. The new skill—Seduce or Destroy—pulsed like a heartbeat, waiting for activation.

"Then let's dance," he growled.

She moved first.

Venom's hands transformed, fingers becoming claws of dark energy that left trails of corruption in the air. She slashed at him with inhuman speed, each swipe designed to break skin and introduce her system's payload directly into his bloodstream.

Charles dodged with enhanced reflexes, feeling the displaced air sizzle where her claws had passed. The concrete floor bubbled and cracked where drops of her essence landed, eating through matter like acid through flesh.

He countered with a wave of Lust Sync energy—pink and crimson tendrils that pulsed from his body with hypnotic rhythm, seeking her skin, her weakness, any point of contact where he could establish dominance.

But she absorbed them.

Every tendril that touched her skin was consumed, drawn into her system and converted into something darker. She laughed as her eyes began to glow with stolen energy.

"My body converts lust into poison," she explained, advancing with predatory grace. "Desire into destruction. Every emotion you make me feel becomes a weapon against you."

**[Alert: Lust Sync Energy Draining]**

**[Power Level: 88%... 76%... 61%...]**

**[System Recommendation: Disengage Immediately]**

"You're draining me," Charles gasped, backing away as his vision began to blur.

She nodded, her form becoming more fluid as she absorbed his power. "You're too confident in what you don't understand. That's why the Syndicate sent me instead of another army. I don't fight your system—I feed on it."

But Charles didn't panic. Even as his strength ebbed, even as his vision darkened around the edges, something else was awakening. The mutation his system had warned him about was accelerating, triggered by mortal danger.

He closed his eyes and let go.

**[Emergency Protocol Activated]**

**[Mutation Core: Seduce or Destroy - ENGAGED]**

**[Warning: Personality alteration in progress]**

**[Caution: Changes may be irreversible]**

His aura darkened and expanded. Not the warm pink and red of pure lust, but obsidian shot through with silver veins. The very air around him began to vibrate with frequencies that made Venom's confident advance falter.

She blinked, her system suddenly registering an unknown threat. "What...?"

Charles opened his eyes. They were glowing black with silver pupils—not human anymore, but something evolved beyond human limitations.

"You think you understand lust?" His voice carried harmonics that bypassed the ears and spoke directly to the brainstem. "You've never seen what happens when a man learns to weaponize the space between desire and destruction."

He moved faster than her enhanced reflexes could track, covering the distance between them in a single fluid motion. His hand found her throat—not squeezing, not threatening, just making contact with skin that had never known defeat.

He didn't try to seduce her in any conventional sense.

Instead, he whispered: "Feel my poison."

**[Skill Activated: Black Sync – Reverse Seduction]**

**[Target: System Override Initiated]**

**[Converting host toxin system to pleasure receptors]**

Venom's body convulsed as her own system turned against her. The toxins she had weaponized became hypersensitive nerve endings. The poison became ecstasy so intense it bordered on agony. Her carefully controlled power became a flood of unfiltered sensation that her consciousness couldn't process.

She gasped, her violet eyes rolling back as every toxin she'd ever absorbed converted to pure, overwhelming pleasure. Her legs gave out, but Charles caught her, holding her upright as her system cannibalized itself.

**[Enemy System Status: Overload Imminent]**

**[Toxin Conversion: 78%... 94%... Critical Mass Achieved]**

Charles stepped back, releasing her to collapse onto the fractured concrete.

"You wanted to drain me?" He looked down at her trembling form with something that wasn't quite pity. "Instead, you fed me. Every drop of power you stole just made the mutation stronger."

She tried to speak but could only manage broken gasps. Her system was eating itself alive, converting her own life force into the very pleasure chemicals she'd tried to weaponize against him.

"Y-You're... not... normal..." she whispered.

Charles crouched beside her, his new eyes reflecting depths she couldn't fathom. "Normal was never the goal. You thought I was prey? That I was some random kid who got lucky with a stolen system?" He leaned closer. "I'm the virus, sweetheart. I'm what happens when evolution decides to skip a few steps."

The arena shattered like glass.

Time resumed its normal flow with an almost audible snap. The club reformed around them—music, lights, crowds—as if the pocket dimension had never existed. No one noticed the transition. No one saw Venom's collapsed form or the scorch marks where Charles' new power had burned reality itself.

Almost no one.

At the bar, partially hidden behind a pillar, a figure in a black suit nursed a glass of premium scotch. The Syndicate pin on his lapel caught the light as he tapped his earpiece with practiced casualness.

"Phase One failed," he reported, his voice barely audible over the resumed music. "Venom's been neutralized. The subject's mutation is accelerating beyond projections."

A deep voice replied through encrypted channels. "Understood. Initiate Phase Two immediately."

"And if Phase Two fails?"

Silence stretched for long moments before the voice returned, colder than before. "Then we activate the Omega Protocol. Better to lose the city than let him reach full evolution."

The figure finished his drink, left exact change on the bar, and melted back into the crowd. Within minutes, he was gone, but his briefcase remained behind—abandoned under a table where the cleaning crew would find it in exactly six hours.

Back in the VVIP booth, Charles settled beside the trembling Venom, who was still alive but completely broken. Her system would never recover from what he'd done to it. She was effectively human now—powerless, defenseless, ordinary.

"Next time," he whispered, loud enough for any listening devices to pick up, "send someone better. Or don't send anyone at all."

But even as he spoke the words, he could feel the changes continuing inside him. The mutation wasn't complete—it was accelerating. His system was rewriting itself on a cellular level, burning out safeguards that had been hardcoded into his DNA.

**[Lust Sync Update: Mutation Stage 2 Imminent]**

**[New Function: Bond Chains - Detected]**

**[Warning: Host psychological profile shifting]**

**[Caution: Point of no return approaching]**

**[Time until irreversible change: 72 hours]**

Charles stood as the crowd around him danced and laughed and lived in ignorant bliss, unaware that something fundamental had shifted in the balance of power. He felt the hunger growing beneath his skin—not his own appetite, but something ancient and patient that had been waiting for exactly this moment.

His reflection in the mirrored wall showed eyes that held depths no human gaze should contain. The thing looking back at him wore his face but carried intentions that would have horrified the man he'd been just hours ago.

Behind him, Venom finally found her voice again, the words barely a whisper but carrying across the space between them with crystal clarity:

"They're... sending... her... next..."

The name that fell from her lips made Charles' new blood freeze in his veins, made his evolved system recoil in something approaching terror:

"Elara."

And in that moment, Charles understood that everything he'd experienced so far—every battle, every evolution, every victory—had been preparation. Training wheels for the real war that was about to begin.

Because Elara wasn't just another Syndicate weapon.

She was his creator.

And she was coming home to reclaim her masterpiece.