Lust Sync: Every Woman Wants Me Now

Charles leaned against the cold stone wall of the underground chamber, his bare torso slick with sweat and streaked with dried blood. His knuckles throbbed, the skin split from the brutal fight with the Hunters. The air still carried the acrid bite of gunpowder and the metallic tang of death, a grim reminder of the carnage they'd left behind. His breathing was steady, but his eyes—cold, calculating, and unyielding—darted across the shadows, searching for threats. Beside him, Diana crouched, her deft fingers binding a gash on her thigh with a torn strip of her dress, her movements precise despite the pain.

"You've changed," she murmured, her voice calm, almost detached, for someone who'd just slit a man's throat without hesitation. "The Charles I knew hesitated. This version... doesn't blink."

Charles didn't respond immediately. His gaze lingered on the floor, where a Hunter's corpse lay, its limbs twitching faintly as the last remnants of his system's aura clung to the body like a malevolent curse. The man's lifeless eyes stared upward, accusing, but Charles felt no remorse. He met Diana's gaze, his expression unreadable. "They didn't come here to scare us. They came to kill us. I gave them what they deserved."

Diana didn't flinch. She stood, wiping her bloodied blade on the dead man's coat before sheathing it with a practiced flick. "We need to go. That strike team wasn't the end. It was a warning."

"A warning to who?" Charles asked, already moving down the damp, echoing hallway. His system hummed in his mind, feeding him alerts in a low, insistent whisper.

> [Lust Sync Alert: Unidentified Enchantress tracking user.] [Warning: Influence radius being nullified. System effectiveness—60%]

He froze mid-step, his pulse quickening. "Something's wrong. The system is getting blocked."

Diana's eyes widened, her hand instinctively hovering near her dagger. "Then we're not just dealing with Hunters. Someone higher is moving. Someone powerful."

They pushed forward, their footsteps echoing in the dim corridor, until they reached the next chamber—a vast, circular space that smelled of rusted metal and ancient stone. The air was heavy, oppressive, as if the chamber itself resented their presence. At its center stood a woman Charles didn't recognize, her presence commanding the room like a storm about to break.

She was beautiful—absurdly, unnaturally so. Her hair flowed like obsidian ink, catching the faint torchlight in waves of liquid shadow. Her skin, a rich bronze, seemed to glow with an inner warmth, and her eyes burned with a dull, unnatural violet that seemed to pierce through flesh and bone. Her robe shimmered, woven from threads that looked like oil and starlight intertwined, shifting with every subtle movement.

"You've caused quite the mess, Charles Manson," she said, her voice a husky purr, laced with venom and allure. Each word felt like a hook, tugging at something primal within him.

Charles stepped in front of Diana, his body tensing instinctively. "Who are you?"

The woman tilted her head, her lips curling into a smile that was both inviting and predatory. "Names are chains. But for your sake, you may call me Asha."

> [System Sync Attempt: Failed] [Warning: Asha is immune to Lust Sync influence.]

Charles's eyes narrowed, his jaw tightening. "You're like me."

Asha's smile widened, slow and deliberate, like a predator savoring its prey. "I'm better. And I'm here to offer you a choice."

Diana shifted beside him, her hand inching closer to her dagger. "I don't like this," she whispered, her voice low but sharp with suspicion.

Asha ignored her completely, her violet eyes fixed on Charles. "Your system's gift is... messy. Imprecise. You can charm, influence, seduce. But me?" She took a step forward, her heels clicking against the stone, each sound echoing like a heartbeat. "I rewrite desire. I mold fate. I don't need a system—I am the system."

Charles scoffed, though a flicker of unease stirred in his chest. "You came to brag?"

"No," Asha said, her voice dropping to a whisper as she closed the distance between them. "I came to make you an offer. Join me. Break your leash. The Lust Sync was never meant to evolve like this. You've twisted it into something else... something dangerous."

He raised a brow, his voice steady despite the growing tension. "Dangerous to who?"

"To the Architects."

The word hit Charles like a physical blow, sending a chill down his spine. His system flickered, a fragmented alert flashing in his mind.

> [Hidden System File Unlocked: Architects Detected] [Synchronization Key Fragmented – Unknown Source]

The whispers in his head—those corrupted messages, those glitching logs he'd dismissed as bugs—suddenly felt like pieces of a puzzle he hadn't known he was solving. "...The what?" he asked, his voice quieter now, laced with a rare edge of uncertainty.

Asha's smile turned knowing, almost pitying. "Ah. So they haven't told you. Typical. The Lust Sync System? It's not a tool—it's a leash. A test. A game. The people pulling the strings are watching you, Charles. Watching all of us. I broke free. You still haven't."

"You're lying," Diana snapped, stepping forward, her dagger half-drawn. "He's been using the system to survive. To protect us. Why would he trust you?"

Asha's gaze finally slid to Diana, her violet eyes narrowing with faint amusement. "Because survival is not freedom. And power without control is just another cage."

Charles's jaw clenched, his mind racing. The system had saved him countless times—its influence had bent enemies to his will, turned battles in his favor. But the glitches, the whispers, the moments when it seemed to act on its own… Asha's words were a blade, cutting through his certainty. "If what you're saying is true," he said, his voice low and dangerous, "prove it."

Asha's smile turned sharp, lethal. "I will. But first, you'll have to die."

Before he could react, she snapped her fingers.

The chamber convulsed. Energy surged through the floor, pulsing like a living heartbeat. The air crackled with raw power, and Charles doubled over, pain ripping through his spine like fire. Diana screamed as a rune beneath her feet ignited in crimson, its light searing her skin. She stumbled, clutching her thigh where the wound reopened, blood soaking through the makeshift bandage.

> [System Integrity: Corrupted] [Lust Sync Disabled – Force Lock Detected]

Charles collapsed to his knees, clutching his chest as his vision blurred. The system's interface flickered in his mind, glitching violently—lines of code fragmenting, alerts dissolving into static. "What... what did you do?" he gasped, his voice ragged.

Asha stepped closer, her robe trailing like liquid shadow. She leaned down, her face inches from his, her violet eyes glowing with an unearthly light. "This is the price of knowing the truth. If you survive, we'll talk again."

The world shattered.

---

Charles woke with a gasp, his body jerking upright on a creaking mattress. The air was stale, heavy with the scent of sweat and cheap bleach. Dim light filtered through tattered curtains, casting jagged shadows across a grimy motel room. His system was silent—no alerts, no interface, no whispers. For the first time in years, his mind felt... empty.

He staggered to his feet, his body sore but intact, his muscles aching as if he'd been fighting for hours. His reflection in the cracked mirror showed a man he barely recognized—eyes bloodshot, face gaunt, the weight of Asha's words etched into his features. On the desk beside him, a burner phone blinked with a single message.

> "Room 616. One hour. Don't be late. — Asha"

Charles stared at the message, rage and confusion boiling in his chest. His fingers tightened around the phone, the plastic creaking under the pressure. Who was she? What was she? And why did her words about the Architects feel like a truth he'd been running from?

But beneath the anger, beneath the questions, was something colder. Fear. Not of Asha, but of what she'd revealed. The Lust Sync System—his greatest weapon, his lifeline—wasn't just empowering him. It was watching him. Controlling him. And the Architects, whoever they were, held the strings.

He turned toward the mirror, his breath ragged. "What the hell am I caught up in?"

Behind him, the motel's ancient TV clicked on by itself.

Static filled the screen, a low hiss filling the room. Then a voice—warped, inhuman, like metal grinding against bone. "We see you, Charles. You've grown... dangerously unpredictable."

Charles spun, backing away from the screen, his heart pounding. "Who are you?" he demanded, his voice hoarse.

The static flickered, the voice laughing—a glitching, distorted sound that clawed at his nerves. "You are a variable. A corruption. A deviation from the script."

The screen flashed violently, images stuttering across it: blood-soaked battlefields, Diana's tear-streaked face, Asha's violet eyes, a glowing gate pulsing with forbidden light, a throne of bone wreathed in shadow. Charles's head throbbed, pain lancing through his skull as his system fought to reassert itself.

> [Emergency System Override Initiated] [Backup Protocol Reinstating in 10... 9... 8...]

He screamed, clutching his head as the images intensified. Women—some familiar, some strangers—screamed his name in ecstasy and agony. Fire consumed cities. Symbols he couldn't understand burned into his vision. And at the center of it all, a figure—himself, but twisted. His eyes were black voids, his smile cruel, his hands dripping with blood. He stood before the glowing gate, its light consuming him, reshaping him into something... other.

"Stop!" Charles roared, slamming his fist into the TV. The screen shattered, glass scattering across the floor, but the voice lingered, echoing in his mind.

"You cannot escape the script, Charles. But you can rewrite it."

The room spun, his vision fracturing. He stumbled, catching himself on the desk as the system's countdown continued.

> [5... 4... 3...]

He saw Diana, her body broken, reaching for him. He saw Asha, her smile promising salvation and damnation. He saw the throne of bone, and on it, a figure cloaked in shadow, its face hidden but its presence suffocating.

> [2... 1...]

The last thing he saw was himself—the twisted version, black-eyed and smiling, raising a hand to beckon him closer. "Join us," it whispered.

Then everything went dark.

But in the void, a new sound emerged—a low, rhythmic pulse, like a heartbeat. And with it, a single, chilling message burned into his mind:

> [System Reboot: Partial Success] [Architect Protocol Activated] [Objective: Eliminate the Variable]

Charles's eyes snapped open, but he wasn't in the motel anymore. He stood in a vast, empty plane, the ground beneath him cracked and glowing with crimson runes. Above, a sky of swirling chaos churned, and in the distance, the glowing gate loomed, its light pulsing in time with the heartbeat in his ears.

A figure emerged from the shadows—Asha, her violet eyes blazing. But she wasn't alone. Behind her stood the twisted version of himself, its black eyes locked on him, its smile widening.

"Choose," Asha said, her voice echoing across the plane. "Join us, or be erased."

The ground trembled, the runes flaring brighter. Charles's system flickered, its interface glitching wildly, torn between obedience and rebellion. The twisted figure stepped closer, its voice a warped mirror of his own.

"The Architects are coming, Charles. And you're running out of time."