Succumania

In the heart of L.U.N.A.R, Nina sat at her desk, furiously arranging a stack of folders, each brimming with pictures she had taken the day before.

Beauties in swimsuits—perfection in its purest form—captured in every frame, yet frustratingly out of reach.

"Ah… It pisses me off!" She lashed out, her fist slamming on her desk. 

How could that idiot Luka not appreciate such a divine spectacle? So many opportunities, wasted!

Ah, how much she envied this little man, surrounded by so many boo—beautiful girls! If only… If only she wasn't born that way!

"I have no choice," she lamented, tears welling up in her eyes as she aimed a toy gun dramatically at her head. "I'll just end it all and start over in the next life…"

"STOP BEING SO DRAMATIC," the small robot beside her deadpanned.

"Shut up, you!" she huffed, hurling the toy gun at the robot with unrestrained frustration. A metallic clang echoed through the room.

"Well, well," a raspy voice interrupted, sending a chill down her spine. 

Nina spun around, dropping the theatrics in an instant. In one fluid motion, she snatched a real gun, leveled it at the intruder, and steadied her grip.

From the shadows emerged a scrawny, hunched figure, leaning heavily on a cane.

"To think my granddaughter would grow up to be such a shameless brat," the old man sneered, his wrinkled face twisting into an amused smirk.

Nina's jaw tightened, her fingers curling dangerously over the trigger. "Old fart…" she spat through gritted teeth.

His bald head gleamed under the dim lights, deep wrinkles layering over his sunken face. He let out a hoarse chuckle, his bony shoulders trembling with laughter.

"Is this how you welcome an old man?" he rasped.

"Shut up," she snapped, her glasses slipping slightly as her glare intensified. "You banished me from the family. What the hell do you want?"

"To protect you, of course," his gaze hardened, his gnarled fingers tightening around the pommel of his cane.

Nina let out a snarky chuckle, tilting her head. "Protect me? From what?"

"He is back, Nina," the old man answered with a serious face. "And we can't afford to leave you alone again."

"We?"

The door burst open. In perfect synchronicity, a dozen men in military gear flooded the space, their weapons drawn—assault rifles, submachine guns, tactical vests weighed down with ammunition. 

Nina's fingers twitched over the trigger of her pistol.

Her eyes darted to the gunmen, then back to the old man.

Then, she understood all too clearly, her face paling.

"You mean…"

"Yes," the grandfather nodded. "All of the different organizations of the underworld are organizing against him. We can't let a wild card like you be used by him again."

Nina's breath turned shallow. For once, she had no witty retort.

The words sank deep, rattling in her skull like gunfire.

It was impossible, and yet if there was one person who could still come back after so long, it was the Hatman.

Then her teeth clenched. Her hands steadied.

"And how the hell am I supposed to trust you?" she snapped, her pistol jerking up, aimed dead at her grandfather's forehead.

All of the men in the room shifted, but the old man raised his hands to tell them to stop.

A smirk tugged at his lips.

"You don't have to trust me, girl. But you can trust me when I say you don't want to stay here. After all, you were the first to betray him, no?"

Her teeth ground together, waging war against her own instincts. Every fiber of her being hated this. Hated them. Hated that she didn't see this coming.

But—

She lowered her gun.

Her head dipped slightly, her bangs shadowing her eyes.

"Just… Don't touch my stuff," she muttered, biting her tongue in frustration as she pushed up from her seat.

The old man's eyes glinted with amusement as he motioned to his men. "We will only dismantle what you or I would consider dangerous," he said, the slyness in his tone belying the seriousness of the situation. "Take her to her new lab. We will need her expertise to fight against him as well," he chuckled darkly. "She may be banished from my family, but she's still my talented granddaughter."

As the soldiers closed in, Nina allowed herself to be led away, her resentment simmering beneath the surface. She glanced back at her desk, her eyes lingering on the photographs. For a moment, she thought of Luka—the one person she couldn't afford to drag into this mess.

Still, she had to call him. With a hidden spell she activated, a single call was sent. It was a system in case of emergency calls, one that could tell him something was wrong. 

Behind her, the old man watched her retreating figure with cold detachment. His smirk faded as he turned to the monitor on the desk, his attention shifting to the task at hand. His fingers hovered over the controls, activating the second phase of his plan. Today was just the beginning.

It was morning in the house full of succubi. Surprisingly, even at this late hour, it was very quiet and only Alma Elma and the Lilith Sisters were awake, each occupying their own corner of the room.

Lilith was in the kitchen preparing breakfast while her sisters were watching the TV on the couch. 

Alma Elma yawned and stretched on a chair at the table, her eyes never leaving the screen. "Luka is still asleep?" she asked, her thoughts drifting to her talk yesterday.

"Still asleep," Astaroth answered. This time she allowed herself to stay in her night clothes, which was just her usual attire in her original world. 

"Hmm." Alma Elma's lips curled into a smile. "That's good. He is always waking up early. A bit of oversleep won't hurt."

"He's always the first to wake up, yeah," Morrigan added, her eyes still half-closed from the sleep. 

The room fell into a comfortable silence, broken only by the soft hum of the television and the occasional clatter of dishes from the kitchen. For a moment, it felt like an ordinary morning in an ordinary household.

Suddenly, a small noise vibrated through the room. Alma Elma immediately felt the same vibrations running through the table and her eyes snapped to a phone at the other end. 

Though she rarely handled such modern gadgets, her nimble fingers navigated the screen with surprising ease. Her eyes narrowed as she read the name displayed on the caller ID.

"Nina?" she murmured, her voice laced with surprise and a hint of concern.

The Lilith Sisters turned their attention to her, their expressions shifting from drowsy to alert. "Nina?" Astaroth repeated. "Who is that?"

Alma Elma didn't answer immediately. Instead, she swiped to answer the call, holding the phone to her ear. "Nina? What's going on?"

There was a brief pause on the other end, followed by a series of incomprehensible noises and muffled words. Alma Elma frowned and withdrew the phone from her ear.

"We have a problem," she ended the call and set the phone down, her crimson eyes blazing with determination. 

"What kind of problem?" Morrigan asked, now fully awake and sitting upright. 

"Nina's in trouble," Alma Elma replied. She undressed and quickly flew upstairs. In a few seconds, she came back in her usual attire, her royal blue cape flicking behind her. "She is being taken away."

"We'll come too," Astaroth immediately said while standing up. "I don't know who this Nina is, but if she is a friend of Luka, we must help."

"Right," Lilith entered her room with a serious expression. "You can count on us too, queen of succubi."

"Thank you," Alma Elma nodded. "She is a friend of mine too so I will gladly accept your help."

"Shouldn't we wake up Luka?" Morrigan asked.

"No." Alma Elma's gaze hardened. "He's sleeping, let him sleep. We'll handle this ourselves."

Without giving them a chance to argue, she turned toward the closet near the entrance. Her fingers brushed the wooden door, revealing a hidden array of talismans carefully aligned and stuck to the back wall.

"Wait, we're going to use one of these?" Lilith asked, narrowing her eyes at the collection.

"This is the only way I know how to reach her place," Alma Elma nodded, her eyes scanning the little name tags above each stack of talismans. "Luka prepared many of these to travel to different positions at any time. And Nina's lab is one of them."

It didn't take long for Alma Elma to find the talismans she was looking for. She picked out four, each glowing faintly with an inner power. After a deep breath, she handed one to each of the Lilith Sisters and clenched the fourth in her own hand.

"Focus your magical energy on it, it will activate on its own."

Each of the Lilith Sisters nodded, taking the talismans carefully. With a shared understanding, they each focused, channeling their power through the talismans. The paper glowed, the space around them warped, and in an instant, they found themselves at another place.

"Whoa!" Astaroth shouted, stumbling a bit as her feet wobbled. "It's a bit strange…"

"It's a bit disorientating at first but you get used to it quickly," Alma Elma noted, her eyes already scanning the environment. 

They found themselves standing in a quiet, spacious laboratory. The walls were lined with shelves filled with strange devices, glowing crystals, and arcane books. There was no sign of Nina, or anyone else for that matter. The place was still, almost unnervingly so.

Alma Elma clicked her tongue in frustration. "Were we too late?"

She stepped forward, her eyes narrowing as she scanned the room more carefully, her senses on high alert. There was a smell in here that…

"Luka is asleep, right?" Alma Elma asked, her voice growing distant, her eyes losing a bit of their usual sharpness as a sense of dread crept in.

"I'm pretty sure I checked," Astaroth answered, still scanning the lab. "He was clutching Vinum in his arms like a plushie."

"HE WAS WHAT?" The three other succubi shouted in unison.

"I was also surprised by that, to be honest," Astaroth sighed. "I wonder what happened."

"Then why do I smell…" the queen of succubi muttered, confused.

"Smell what?" Morrigan asked.

Before Alma Elma could answer, a new voice echoed, laced with a mocking tone.

"She's referring to me, blue-hair." 

Alma Elma's eyes flashed with fury, her body tensing as she spun toward the source of the voice. In an instant, the Lilith Sisters were on high alert, their weapons drawn and their auras flaring with power.

Lilith moved first, her movements a blur of deadly precision. With a flick of her wrist, she summoned a razor-sharp wind blade. The blade sliced through the air with a deafening rush, aimed directly at the voice. It crashed into the far wall, cutting through steel and machinery like paper and sending shards of metal flying in every direction. The succubi shielded themselves, their eyes never leaving the spot where the blade had struck.

From the dust and debris, the voice chuckled again, unhurried and unbothered. "Damn, you don't waste a second, big sister," the man said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "And here I almost thought I'd get split in half."

As the dust slowly settled, a figure emerged from the shadows. He was tall and lean, his features sharp and angular, with piercing golden eyes that gleamed with arrogance. His black hair was tousled, falling messily around his face, and he wore a long brown trenchcoat, the edges fluttering slightly with his every movement. A wide-brimmed hat, the same color as his coat, rested low on his head, casting a shadow over his face, but not enough to hide the smirk playing on his lips.

"What is going on…" Alma Elma muttered, her eyes narrowing.

The man spread his arms wide in a mockingly welcoming gesture, his smirk growing. "Good morning, slutty whores! Or I guess that's a pleonasm, isn't it?" 

The succubi exchanged wary glances, their weapons still at the ready. Morrigan stepped forward, her sword pointed at him. "Who the hell are you, and what do you want?"

"Whoa, chill!" he raised his hands in surrender. "I'm not here to fight, you know? Did anyone ever tell you you're violent?"

Lilith's eyes narrowed with icy precision, her gaze never leaving the man. "We did," she said, her tone cold. 

"Well, you should listen to your sisters, blue hair!" 

Astaroth huffed in irritation, her patience thinning by the second. "Do you ever shut up?" she snapped, frustration evident in her voice. "Who are you even, anyway?"

The man sighed dramatically, rolling his eyes as though the question bored him. "Sorry, but you won't shut my mouth. Except with a kiss, maybe. That could do the trick."

Morrigan blinked in surprise, momentarily taken aback by his audacity. She lowered her sword just slightly, her eyes narrowing. "Is he for real?"

"I'm very real," he replied nonchalantly, his tone as smooth as ever. "I guess the niño is lucky to have you all under his roof. Too bad he can't really enjoy it."

Alma Elma's gaze hardened as the implications of his words sank in. "What are you talking about?" she demanded. "You know Luka?"

The man's eyes widened, and he blinked multiple times, clearly caught off guard by the question. Then, as if a thought occurred to him, he raised his hand to his chin, thinking for a moment before letting out a small chuckle. "Oh? I see, he's not comfortable enough to tell you his past, huh?" He nodded dramatically. "I know that feeling… You think you know a guy, and then, bam! He's been lying to you all along!"

Alma Elma's irritation flared, her patience thinning rapidly. "Okay, you know things," she sighed in exasperation. "So where is Nina?"

"Nina? Oh, that's why you're here," he sighed dramatically, placing one hand on his hip. "Well, I passed for her grandfather to tell her to fuck off. Also hired a bunch of mercenaries to do the trick."

"You… What?" 

"He switched appearances, Morrigan," Lilith explained. "He impersonated Nina's grandfather to gain her trust."

"It would work if she liked him," the man corrected. "But I did that to give her a good reason to leave."

"And where did you send her?" Alma Elma asked, her fists tightening.

"Uh…" he lowered his hat and looked away. "I guess you won't like that I asked the boys to just attach her in a place with no shadow," he then smiled widely. "Guess she'll roast like a chicken, ahah!"

In a blur, the queen of succubi moved. Both of her fists glowed with different elements—one surging with the heat of fire, the other crackling with the force of wind.

And struck.

The man's eyes widened, and for the briefest moment, the cocky smirk on his face faltered. He looked surprised by Alma Elma's sudden shift in demeanor, but only for a split second before the grin returned. 

He was too late. 

Alma Elma moved with the speed of a striking serpent. Her fists, shooting rapidly, collided with the man in a force that shook the air around them. The immense energy from her strike surged through the room, sending a shockwave that shattered nearby glass and caused the machinery to rattle violently. Fire ignited upon impact, licking at his clothes, while the sheer force of wind sent him hurling backward.

"You could've been a bit easier on him, don't you think?" Astaroth frowned at the sudden display of violence. "You completely erased him."

"Sorry…♪," she smirked. "I guess I got a bit heated."

"I felt that," the man's voice returned, making her eyes widen. She turned around, only to see him in one piece at the other end of the room. "Damn, remind me to never piss you off again," he chuckled, dusting his clothes off.

The room was still scarred from the remnants of Alma Elam's immense power. The walls were cracked, the machinery broken, and a few debris were still falling from the roofs. Alma Elma stood, fists still glowing with residual energy, her breath heavy with the intensity of the strike. But the man—unscathed, unaffected, and annoyingly alive—stood at the far end of the room, grinning like he'd just been to a spa.

Astaroth blinked in disbelief, her voice laced with concern. "How the hell is he still standing?"

Lilith narrowed her eyes, still wary, though she didn't let her guard down. "That was a direct hit, he didn't dodge. How did you—"

The man let out a small chuckle, his smug expression unwavering. "Guess I'm just not that easy to kill." Then, he pointed at the group of succubi. "Also, I said I didn't want to fight. Why do you think I went to the trouble of getting Nina out of here? I'm not as crazy as to fight her head-on with all the tools at her disposition."

Alma Elma's eyes narrowed, her breath steadying as she recalculated. She could still feel the reverberations of her strike in the air, the residual heat from the collision of fire and wind. The fact that the man was standing there—untouched and as smug as ever—sent a chill through her.

 "I felt my fist hit him and yet…" Alma Elma muttered under her breath, as if trying to piece together some missing link.

"So, what will you do? Fight me until the death heat of the universe or actually do something productive with your lives?" he sighed. "I'm busy you know."

"By the way," he pointed at the queen of succubi. "How do you use two elements at once? It's cool."

"A woman doesn't reveal her secrets…♪" she smirked, her tail lashing out on the ground. 

The man shrugged. "Fair. But I'm still curious. "

"How about finding out what true pleasure is?" Morrigan cackled, her hand glowing blue. In a flash, her aura wrapped around him and she began fiddling with her fingers.

The man's body twitched in response but instead of panicking, he blinked, curious. 

"Hm? That tickles," he muttered with a playful tone.

"YOU TOO?" 

"Of course," the man said with a sigh, almost as though he were bored. He snapped his fingers, and Morrigan's aura vanished in a flash. He turned around, his back facing the group. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have shit to do."

"Come back here, you piece of shit—!" Morrigan's fury snapped, and she rushed toward him, her sword raised, ready to strike.

But before she could reach him, the man raised a hand without even turning around. A faint, shimmering barrier materialized in front of him, and Morrigan's sword clashed against it with a resounding clang . The force of the impact sent a shockwave through the room, but the barrier held firm, completely unfazed.

"Persistent, aren't you?" the man said, his voice tinged with amusement. He finally turned to face her, his golden eyes locking onto hers. "But I really don't have time for this."

With another snap of his fingers, the barrier expanded, pushing Morrigan back with enough force to send her skidding across the floor. She barely managed to keep her balance, her eyes wide with shock.

Alma Elma stepped forward, her crimson eyes blazing with fury. "You're not going anywhere," she hissed, her voice low and dangerous. Her fists glowed once more, the fire and wind energies swirling around her like a storm. 

The man sighed, his expression one of mild exasperation. "Goddamn it, and here I thought you were one of the more reasonable ones," he said, shrugging nonchalantly. "As you wish."

With that, he raised his hand, revealing some kind of pocket watch. He pushed its button.

In the blink of an eye, the world around her seemed to warp, and before she could process what was happening, her body surged forward, and she found herself just inches from the man's face—her strike ready to land.

But the very next moment, everything changed.

Alma Elma's momentum faltered. She hadn't even registered the shift before she felt an intense pull at her core, as if her very strength was being siphoned away. Her magic, the fire and wind magic she'd wielded with such ease, seemed to vanish in an instant, as if they'd been snuffed out by some unseen force. Her feet faltered, her balance wavering, and she stumbled forward, unable to steady herself.

Then came the pain.

A sharp, stinging sensation tore through her side, and when she looked down, she saw the blood—warm and flowing rapidly from a gaping wound in her belly. The hole, just above her ribs, was wide enough to be felt with every heartbeat. Warm liquid poured from the wound, dripping down her stomach.

The Lilith Sisters recoiled, their expressions flashing between shock and concern. Without a word, they rushed forward, but Alma Elma's vision began to blur. Her knees wobbled as she struggled to stand, clutching at the wound, her breath shallow and fast.

"I guess it was to be expected," the man mused, his voice distant, as if he were speaking to no one in particular. "You're all so predictable in your reactions."

The Lilith Sisters surged forward in a coordinated attack, each one unleashing their power with the kind of deadly intent only the most experienced fighters could manage. But the man didn't flinch. He simply stood there, waiting, as Lilith's strike came for him.

In an instant, her fingers were buried in his neck, tearing through flesh with unnatural ease. The severed head fell into Lilith's hand, her grip tightening around it, and she stared at it in stunned silence. But before any of them could register the gravity of the situation, the man reappeared, his body forming from a ripple of energy, standing calmly as if nothing had happened.

Lilith's expression twisted into something between confusion and irritation, her grip still tight on the disembodied head. "How…?"

"How does it feel to fight an opponent with hacks," he chuckled, pulling out another object from his coat. "That's how I felt for a long time too, don't worry."

The object he picked up was something they all had seen already. 

A stack of talismans.

"So, without further ado," the man said, his tone dripping with mockery, "your friend over here is bleeding, and if she were to die here, you'd feel bad, right? I mean, I wouldn't blame you—she's quite the looker, even in her current state."

He flicked one of the talismans into the air, and it ignited in a burst of golden light. The energy surged toward Alma Elma, enveloping her in a warm, healing glow. The wound in her side began to close, the blood ceasing to flow as her strength slowly returned. She gasped, her hand instinctively moving to her healing abdomen, her crimson eyes narrowing as she glared at the man.

"There," he said, clapping his hands together as if he'd just performed a simple parlor trick. "Good as new. Well, mostly. You might want to take it easy for a bit, though. Wouldn't want you collapsing mid-fight, would we?"

"I don't get it, what's his goal?" Astaroth searched the eyes of the man, not understanding his intentions.

"Are you deaf or what? I just want to take what belongs to me and get out of here. I don't care about you four."

Before anyone could respond, he raised his hand, the stack of talismans glowing brighter. "Anyway, that's all for today. I wouldn't want to have interlopers during the second phase if possible. Bye-bye!"

With a snap of his fingers, the talismans erupted in a blinding flash of light. The succubi shielded their eyes, the brilliance overwhelming even their heightened senses. When the glow faded, the man was gone—and so was the laboratory The succubi were standing in the middle of an empty road next to what looked like an abandoned bar. 

The Lilith Sisters blinked in unison, their heads turning as they took in their new surroundings. Alma Elma, still clutching her side, slowly straightened up, her breath coming in shallow gasps. The man hadn't healed her completely, but he'd done enough to ensure she wouldn't bleed out. For now, that would have to suffice.

"He's a tricky one," Lilith sighed. "Who is he?"

"No clue," Alma Elma gasped. "But Nina might be in danger, we must help her."

"But we have no clue where she is," Astaroth pointed out, her arms crossed as she scanned the desolate road. "You even said you didn't know where that laboratory was in the first place."

"Also, I hate to say it but you're in no condition to fight anymore, are you?" Morrigan added. "Let's go home so we can treat your wound."

"Can't you use a healing spell on me?" Alma Elma deadpanned.

"I already tried," Lilith sighed, her expression grim. "But it seems your wound is resisting our healing spells. It's as if something is actively preventing them from working."

"A curse?" Astaroth mused, her brow furrowing as she stepped closer to examine Alma Elma's injury. The wound, though no longer bleeding profusely, still was marked with a white sigil. "It's possible. That man's magic is… unusual, to say the least."

"What is that mark? It's in such bad taste…" Alma Elma sighed, her tail flicking irritably behind her. She glanced down at the sigil, her lips curling in distaste. "It looks like something out of a cheap tattoo shop."

"Regardless of its aesthetic, it's clearly doing something," Lilith said, her tone practical. "We need to figure out how to remove it before it causes any more damage."

"Anyway, let's go home and patch you up!" Morrigan smirked. "I'll handle the needles!"

"Thank you, but I can handle it myself…♪" Alma Elma replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm. 

As they prepared to leave, Lilith gazed toward the horizon. "As for Nina… Let's just hope Luka's friend is more resourceful than us."

With a collective nod, they spread their wings and took flight.

After a few unsettling tremors that made Nina's stomach twist with anxiety, the armed men finally reached the exit of the laboratory. With a heavy groan, the reinforced hull doors slid open, revealing the outside world.

Blinding sunlight poured in.

The moment it touched her skin, a sharp, burning sensation spread across her body. Nina flinched, instinctively retreating into the safety of the shadows.

"Wait—where are you taking me?" she demanded, her voice sharper now.

No response.

The masked men continued their silent march, their faces unreadable behind their visors. When she hesitated, one of them shoved her forward.

Her legs buckled as she stumbled toward the light.

Panic set in.

They knew. They knew she couldn't handle direct sunlight. And yet, they were pushing her into it like she was nothing more than disposable cargo.

Something was wrong. Even if her grandfather was an asshole, he would never order such a thing. 

A bead of sweat rolled down her forehead and she clicked her tongue.

She's been tricked.

"Fuck off, all of you!" she snarled.

With a sharp kick, her right foot shot up between one of the soldier's legs. He crumpled with a strangled grunt. Before the others could react, Nina's hand darted into her lab coat, fingers closing around a single copper penny.

"Activate the defense system!" she commanded.

The lab answered.

Steel panels hissed as they slid open, revealing automated weaponry. Mechanical limbs twisted into position, sensors locking onto their new targets.

"Shoot them dead!"

The guns obeyed.

A Gatling gun roared to life, its barrels spinning with terrifying speed. Dozens of bullets erupted in a deafening spray, tearing through the hallway with brutal efficiency. The masked men scrambled for cover, their movements frantic as they tried to evade the onslaught. 

Nina didn't wait to see the outcome. She turned on her heel and bolted back into the depths of the lab, her mind racing as she formulated her next move. She needed to get to the control room—fast. If she could lock down the facility and access the surveillance systems, she might be able to figure out who was behind this.

But as she ran, a sharp crack echoed through the hallway. Pain exploded in her leg, and Nina stumbled, her breath catching in her throat. She glanced down to see blood seeping through her pants, the bullet wound sending waves of agony through her body.

She looked back.

One of the soldiers had dropped to the floor, just beyond the Gatling gun's line of fire. His rifle was still raised, smoke curling from the barrel.

The others wasted no time. A grenade sailed through the air.

The explosion rocked the lab, the blast swallowing the Gatling gun in a fiery eruption. The weapon's spinning barrels screeched to a halt, its remains twisted and useless.

They had lost four men. But eight of them were still standing.

"Shit…" she hissed through gritted teeth, biting her tongue to keep from crying out. This was bad. Really bad.

She tried to push herself up, but before she could, rough hands seized her shoulder.

"Gotcha, you little shit!"

The grip was ironclad. Fingers dug into her flesh as she was yanked upward, pain flaring in her leg as her weight shifted. She bit back a cry, glaring up at the soldier looming over her. His visor obscured his face, but she could feel his anger behind it.

"Let. Go."

With all the strength she had left, she twisted violently, her elbow snapping forward.

But he was ready.

With a grunt, he drove his knee into her stomach, knocking the air from her lungs. As she gasped for breath, he raised the stock of his rifle.

And with a dull, sickening thud—

Everything went black.