You Already Won

"Miller, stop! Please, I'm sorry!"

Bang. Crash. Bang. Punch. Kick. Punch.

"Look, man, I—" His head was slammed into the wall.

Punch. Punch. Punch.

The woman screamed, voice hoarse. "Miller! Miller!"

"You deserve this, you bitch!"

———

"Boy, that's how you talk to someone that saved your life?"

Cawren's eyes shot open. His body should have felt stiff, broken, but that was the perk of an avatar shell. No stiffness, no lingering injury—just the raw awareness of what had been done to him.

He sat up, scanning the space. They were outside under a scarred tree. Its leaves had withered away with the season or war.

"Hmmm."

Finally, his gaze locked on the woman across from him. Something about her made his gut twist. Made him… nervous. Which wasn't a good sign. He didn't do nervous.

"First you try to incinerate me when I asked you not to, then you call me a bitch after nursing you back to health."

"My—"

"Boy, fuck you." She rolled her eyes.

That's when he noticed them. Dark yellow now, slit with black like a venomous snake's gaze. Purple and black hair that went slightly past her shoulders. He shook his head, unsettled. Why the hell was he feeling so powerless under her stare?

He forced a breath.

"Hmmm." She placed her hand on her chin, studying him.

"What?" he asked.

"Nothing. Anyway, what's your name?"

He stared at her.

She stared back.

"You a loser or something?" she said flatly.

"I'm processing everything that just happened."

"Like a robot?"

"No. Like someone who just fought a glitched god."

"It wasn't that bad."

"Says you. All you had to do was—"

"Save ya life. Stop playing with me. I felt how ya vibe was after I got my upgrade."

"You mean aura?"

"Whatever."

"Hmm… you did say you suck at it."

"Duh. I know I suck at Rieoon. But—"

"It's Ryun."

"Don't interrupt me."

A wave of pressure surged off her words, and Cawren stiffened. Yeah. Something was definitely off.

Then he noticed it.

She was wearing his clothes.

And now that he focused, he realized she was bending space around her without trying. When she spoke, only her voice mattered. When he looked at her too long, she became a lure—enticing, yet unreadable. You could tell you were looking at something, but never pin it down.

His jaw clenched.

"Why are you wearing my clothes?"

Alesha glanced down at herself—his cloak hanging loose around her shoulders, his shirt oversized on her, was underneath the armor he had, her bare legs beneath. She smirked and tugged at the hem like she was teasing a camera.

"I was naked when I dragged you out of that crater," she said with mock sweetness. "So I figured… equal trade. Saved your life, borrowed your fit."

"That's not how—"

"Don't act brand new. You weren't usin' 'em during your nap."

Her voice dripped with confidence, but the way it pulled at him was wrong. Each word bent the area toward her like gravity. He tried to glare, tried to shove his aura back, but hers folded around his like velvet chains.

The snake-slit eyes narrowed.

"You don't like how I look in 'em?"

Cawren's jaw tightened. Instinct screamed at him to push back, reassert control—but he hesitated. And he hated himself for it. Here she was, wearing his clothes, twisting his chest with nothing but a smirk.

"You're… different," he muttered.

She tilted her head, grin widening. "Different?"

"Wrong."

Alesha chuckled low, venomous. "Wrong for you, maybe. But not for me."

The air thickened.

Cawren dragged in a breath, forcing his voice steady. "What exactly did you turn yourself into?"

Her smile didn't fade. "Not really sure. Was hoping you could help me with that."

"Really?"

"It's the only reason you're alive, honestly."

He swallowed his anger, forcing clarity. End of the day, this was a transaction. He had needed help—and now he'd pay the piper. But her attitude had to stop.

"First."

"No, I—"

"First." His voice cut hers, hard. "Thank you for helping me. And saving me after. Considering I helped on my end, it wasn't one-sided."

She rolled her eyes.

"Second, I'll help you. But this attitude—and this aura oppression you're throwing around—ends now. I won't be forced into anything." His glare deepened. "I return favors. Don't mistake that for weakness."

She smiled, sharp as glass. "Oh, sweety. I'm not sure you can even beat my ass anymore. But to make this easier… sure. I'll play nice. Just don't treat me like an idiot going forward. I'm a big girl."

He nodded and stretched out his hand.

"Oh, you wanna touch me?" She shimmied her shoulders with mock flirt.

"This is how we seal the agreement."

"You're such a weirdo."

But she shook his hand.

"Anyway, what's your name?"

"Cawren."

"Nice to meet you, Cawren. I'm Alesha."

"I would change that."

Her brows rose. "What? Why?"

"It lets people know you're an Outlander. Alesha's a very Earth-sounding name."

She just stared at him. Blank.

And it hit him.

She wasn't just fresh.

She was goddamn clueless.

After a long talk, Cawren laid it all out. What Requiem was. How the world bent around systems and gods, how Outlanders either learned quick or died faster. He told her about the Narloic Foundation—how he'd clawed his way in, earned his place, became a Ranker.

When her eyes glazed, he broke it down simpler, explained what Rankers actually were, what the tiers meant. Even then, she seemed to drift, attention slipping like sand through his fingers.

By the end, she just stared out into the distance.

Strangely enough, being around her made it easier to endure her aura. That oppressive pull, the velvet weight that had smothered him before—he could breathe through it now. Adjusting.

"So now that you're caught up," he asked, leaning back. "Was your question, or whatever you needed from me, answered?"

She shook her head slowly, pulling her knees up to her chest. The motion pressed them tight against her, and Cawren's eyes flicked there before he could stop himself.

Yeah. She had a big chest.

He shook his head sharply, annoyed with himself.

They sat in silence for a moment.

"So is there a way back home?"

Cawren glanced at her, then shrugged.

"You don't care?" she pressed.

"I came here by glitching out a video game," he said flatly. "If anything, my body's a corpse no one found in time."

Her lips tightened. "I got kidnapped by this idiot loser piece of shit. And forced here."

"How the hell?"

"I was doing a livestream—"

"You were a streamer?"

Her eyes narrowed. "We gotta like, stop interrupting."

"I was just showing you how annoying it was."

She punched his shoulder, and his body actually shifted under the blow. The flicker of surprise in his eyes didn't escape her. She studied him then—his bronze-toned skin, etched with sigils and strange tattoos. His mask didn't help with the unsettling look. Not human. Not really. Made sense he came from a video game. If he looked normal, it'd probably be unhealthy.

"You're right," she muttered. "Anyway. I was just wondering if going home was possible. And my livestream was for my OnlyFans."

"Oh."

Her head snapped toward him. "What?!"

"Nothing."

"Boy, don't judge me!"

"I can't." His mouth twisted into a grim smile. "I'm a mass murderer. You wanna use your body for money, go ahead."

She stared at him, stunned.

"A what?"

"Don't look at me like that." His eyes hardened. "You'll probably end up doing the same if you chase power like I am. Actually you already did with those other hosts."

Her gaze flicked down, her voice quieter. "…Chasing power."

"Yeah." He leaned back, letting the words hang. "Figured that's what you wanted to know. Or are you projecting onto me?"

"Sorta," she admitted. "But I won't dwell on it. I wanna get better with some of the new stuff I got. Figured you seemed well adjusted to this shit…"

He smiled then, a low chuckle rumbling out of him.

"What's so funny? Like, I wanna laugh too."

"Nothing," Cawren said, shaking his head. "Just… life can be interesting. Anyway—sure. I'll help you. I'm interested in what you are, anyway."

She smirked. "Interested in me? Not surprised. I am that bitch."

Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

He laughed, rough and genuine.

"I was dead serious. Don't play in my face."

"It's been awhile since someone's talked so modern around me."

"Well, aren't you a mass murderer? Probably been awhile since anyone's talked to you at all."

He stared at her for a moment, then shrugged. "Fair point."

Later in the day, Cawren cycled through his UI and switched loadouts. He equipped a hooded robe of black and green, silver fire sigil burning across the back. He kept the mask on—habit.

Part of him wondered if she'd already taken it off while he'd been unconscious, just to satisfy her curiosity, then put it back on. It wouldn't surprise him. She had that look. Either way, he didn't press.

What concerned him more was the gnawing thought in the back of his head.

He wasn't sure he could beat her.

It was absurd. He'd fought powerful Outlanders, a glitched boss, whole armies, and come out standing. Yet something about the way she sat across from him now, aura coiled tight and steady, eyes flickering with that serpentine gleam—it whispered the truth he didn't want to admit.

And that had to be addressed.

Her gaze tracked him as he adjusted the robe, her expression unreadable. It wasn't just watching—it felt like she was scanning him, peeling away layers as if he were nothing but another screen in her broken system.

This wasn't the woman he'd found tangled in roots, screaming and helpless. That person was gone.

This was something new.

"Ok, let's go to a better area."

She smirked. "Ok. Lead the way, big man."

He squinted at her.

"It's kinda hard to see what you do with the mask on. Just sayin'."

"Keep up," he said, taking to the sky.

She appeared beside him in an instant.

Ok, he thought, so she does have some idea what she's doing.

"How are you flying?" he asked over the rush of wind as they soared.

"My Ryun is pushing me."

He glanced at her. Her so-called Ryun—wasn't like anything he'd seen before. It wasn't pushing against the world. It was tearing it.

He smirked and pointed. "Let's land there."

An open field stretched below, still intact despite the battles that scarred the region. She nodded, descending with a slow, controlled grace.

He stared, impressed.

"I'm wearing underwear, pervert."

"I wasn't looking." He adjusted his robe. "Anyway. Let's be serious. I'm gonna teach you how to fight."

"Why?"

"Because fighting is power here. And I wanna spar."

"Well damn. You hit a girl?"

"Yes."

"Right, you a whole mass murderer."

"Anyway!" He cut her off with a scowl. "I won't try to kill you, but you seem to be as strong—"

"Or stronger!" she chimed, sing-song.

His glare sharpened.

She covered her mouth, eyes wide, voice dipping into mock innocence. "Sowwy."

He felt the pull of her aura again, subtle, velvet chains twisting around him. He pushed it back with effort.

"Anyway. Is your power a system or something else? That'll help determine what type of Outlander you are."

"System."

He nodded. "Well, I can't see your screen, so—"

"Why?"

"Right," he sighed, tapping his mask. "You need the full rundown again. But you're not a video game character, so I'm not sure if we're truly the same."

"Pretty sure it's the same shit."

He glared at her.

"Can't we just form a party?"

Cawren froze mid-step, staring at her. "…How the hell do you even know about that?"

She smirked, tilting her head. "'Cause I can see your screen."

His jaw tightened. "My screen isn't even open."

"Don't matter." She tapped her temple. "It's still around you. Just invisible. And babe…" Her grin spread wide. "I wanna be friends. Not like bestie-bestie. More like… you don't try to kill me, I don't try to kill you. Cute little arrangement, right?"

His UI chimed. A sharp, synthetic ping.

Cawren's eyes narrowed as he opened it, flame-runes flickering into existence. He froze.

There it was.

[Request: Join Malefic Temptress Onlyfans]

His eyes went wide. This wasn't supposed to be possible. And Malefic Temptress?

Cawren didn't accept the request. His eyes lingered on it for a moment before closing the screen with a snap of his fingers.

"Ok, you can see mine," he said, "I still can't see yours. But I'll assume it has to do with —"

"Easy fix." Alesha smirked, snapping her fingers. A shimmer peeled off her body, and a transparent UI unfolded in front of him—dark tinted, lined with purple veins. Nothing like his clean, sharp system. This one looked alive.

He frowned. "Yeah, that's… different."

"Different how?"

"Alright." He crossed his arms. "Video game characters like me—we come over with the lore and accomplishments of our avatars. Not everything transfers cleanly. Some stuff gets nerfed. Potions don't always work. Cooldowns stretch longer than they should. That's why I don't rely on 'em anymore. It's also why levels are unreliable. Unless someone is 200 levels above you. You most likely have a chance against them."

"Oh! What level am I?"

"I don't see players' levels. Just health bars and yours is glitched to me."

She tilted her head, eyes flashing.

"Moving on… some gamer types get stuck with just their UI," he continued. "Menu-only fighters. Others—like me—can build new abilities on top of the ones we got from the game."

"Is there another group?" she asked, almost too casually.

"I guess the fused type. They fuse with their UI. System and soul. Not common. Dangerous. Not many are like that though. Two are in this tournament though, the Calmbrand and Blade of the Dawn."

Alesha filed it away with a subtle nod. Her grin softened, snake-slit eyes bright with curiosity. "That last group. It's 'cause of the Vantis, right?"

Cawren's head tilted. "Who?"

"Someone I… got favor from, or whatever. At least that's what it called itself."

"So your system is tied to your soul."

She nodded her head.

"Vantis." He repeated the name like it tasted bitter. "Maybe a god. Maybe a Supreme I never heard of. Either way, not my problem right now."

Her smirk sharpened. "Not curious?"

"I am." He rolled his shoulders, aura cracking off him like sparks. "After this tournament, I'll look into it more. Right now though, more pressing matters are at hand."

He took a step back into the field.

"Cause right now? I want this spar."

"Boy! You trynna cheat! Like giving me a controller—"

"Live combat's the best teacher," Cawren cut in. "Besides, it's just a spar. We'll see what your body naturally does to defend itself. And then make a teaching strategy off that."

She sighed, rolling her eyes. "Ok. But I'm warning you. I got hands for real. And once I get mad? Imma need that every time, and I don't let up."

Cawren's grin stretched beneath his mask. His health sat steady at eighty-seven percent, Ryun and stamina back to normal. He felt good—sharp, coiled, ready. And she… she would be interesting.

"Ready?" he asked, his aura crackling.

She smirked, tilting her head. "Wassup!?"

He charged.

The ground split under his feet as flame trailed behind him, a crimson streak cutting across the field. Alesha didn't flinch. She waited, aura curling around her like dark velvet fire, yellow-slit eyes locked on him with hungry anticipation.

:….::……:….::…:

Cawren blinked, vision swimming.

He was flat on his back. The ground around him was shattered, gouged into deep scars that radiated outward in jagged patterns—another patch added to the ruin already known as Curtenail.

Alesha stood over him, her shadow cutting across his mask. One hand rested casually at her side, the other pressed two fingers to his face like a dagger. Just a twitch, and she could've driven through him.

Cawren's chest heaved. His aura flickered.

He had lost.

How?

Nothing he'd used worked. Not a single trick, not a single technique. It was worse than that glitched boss, and he'd been proud of surviving that beast. But this fight—this spar with her—felt like they weren't even playing the same game. Plus her moveset made no sense.

Alesha grinned, fingers still poised like blades. "Told you I was strong! Hands like Mayweather."

"No, they're not," Cawren muttered, shoving her back as he sat up. "Your technique's awful. You spam like a toddler." His voice steadied, but his eyes burned. "I literally couldn't affect you. That's definitely not Ryun."

He smiled under the mask, though his chest still heaved. Even gods I've met didn't have anything like this.

This was… interesting. Dangerous, but interesting.

Alesha planted her hands on her hips, eyes gleaming. "So I'm like the strongest now, right? 'Cause who the fuck's messing with me if even you can't get past me?"

"I wasn't going for the kill. Don't underestimate me."

"Boo!"

He smirked despite himself. "Well… I guess you can defend yourself. So I'll tell you more about systems. Like leveling up, using exp. Especially farming it." A darker edge slipped into his tone, his smile twisting into something sinister.

"I knew your bum ass was holding back," she said, pointing at him. "But I get it. This world's ruthless, or whatever. Still—since I won, I get three wishes."

"…Three what?"

"Wishes. Thanks." She leaned closer, grin stretching wide. "Wish one: what do you think of me, honestly? Like, be for real with me."

He felt the tug in his chest, his UI chiming.

————————————————————

[Daily Task Unlocked: Malefic Temptress Trial]

Answer her three wishes.

Reward: ???

Failure: 48 hours aura restriction.

————————————————————

"What the hell," he muttered.

Alesha blinked, her smirk faltering. "I didn't mean to do that…"

Cawren studied her. She wasn't lying. Her aura wasn't shifting, no deceit in the pull.

She lifted both hands in surrender. "I swear I was just playing around. Guess your screen didn't think it was a joke."

His mind raced with a million different ways to handle this. Incinerating her was out of the question—and now she could affect his UI directly. Only gods could do that.

He had never met a mortal, native or outlander, like her. Maybe it had to do with the Vantis entity she mentioned.

And she was definitely trying to use him. He could see her intent even beneath her carefully measured words: she wanted him to teach her about UI systems, to serve as a steppingstone while she tested whatever hidden facet of her power she wasn't yet ready to reveal.

The thought should have infuriated him. Instead, it curled through him like a spark of opportunity.

Because that could work for him, too.

If he could overcome the lure she wove into every glance, every tilt of her voice—if he could resist her seduction—then this wouldn't just be survival. It would be training. A crucible.

And from that crucible, he would emerge sharper. Stronger.

Maybe even powerful enough to face the Blood Prince with only two Essence Of Worth.

He exhaled through his teeth and tapped accept. "Fine."

Her grin returned, sharper now. "Okay, first wish. What do you really think about me? No lying."

Cawren's gaze narrowed. "I respect your strength. That fight proved you're dangerous—even if you fight sloppy. And your willpower? Brutal. That's rare. But what's annoying is the way you talk like everything's a game or a joke. You don't take anything serious until it smacks you in the face."

Alesha smiled like she'd just been handed a crown. "Noted. Next question—can I trust you?"

The answer came out before he could stop it. "Yeah. You can. I'm… fond of you. You don't need to worry about betrayal from me."

His brow furrowed as the word echoed in his head. Betray her? Where the hell had that even come from?

"Mm," she hummed, eyes gleaming. "Last question."

He tensed.

Her smile sharpened, venom hiding behind sugar. "Who were you calling a bitch in your sleep?"

The blood in his veins went cold.

"Why…"

Alesha tilted her head. Even she was surprised by her own callousness. But curiosity reigned supreme, and she let the question hang.

Cawren's aura snapped. Rage surged out of him, warping the air into a jagged haze. For a moment, Alesha thought he'd finally break free of her pull completely. But then he stilled. A single breath. A sharp exhale. And his eyes locked on hers, steady, burning.

"It was my ex," he said flatly. "She cheated on me. Guess I was dreaming of that day."

Alesha blinked. "That's a shame. You seem like a decent guy. Unless you were killing back on Earth."

"I wasn't." His jaw clenched, voice hard. "High-paying job, steady career path. I was about to break six figures—100k a year. Then she went behind my back. That bitch cost me everything."

He didn't say more. But he didn't need to. His aura betrayed him, raw grief curling like smoke. Alesha saw it all without trying—the scars, the hunger, the rage that carved him hollow.

And something inside her shifted. Her posture changed, subtle as a predator's shadow. Like a beast recognizing prey, her body leaned closer, instinct steering her.

The system chimed in both their ears.

————————————————————

[Daily Task Complete: Three Wishes Fulfilled]

Reward Unlocked: Personal Gift from the Malefic Temptress.

————————————————————

Cawren stiffened.

Alesha didn't. Her body moved as if compelled, guided by the fusion of her will and the glitch-born power of her Legacy. She was suddenly upon him—heat, aura, and intent pressed against the very man who vowed not to be forced into anything.

She leaned in, hands sliding across the edges of his robe. Fabric whispered, threads pulling as if her aura itself was unraveling them.

Cawren caught her wrists, eyes narrowing.

"What are you doing?"

Her lips curved. "Consuming it."

His grip tightened. "Consuming—what?"

"Yes." Her voice was velvet and venom. "It." Her eyes glowed, unblinking. "Your hate. Your sadness. Your—" she smirked, pressing closer, "—dick."

He growled, half-shoving her back, though the robe was already fraying under her touch. "I think we—"

"Don't worry," she purred, cutting him off, leaning close enough for her breath to fan against his mask. "If it's been awhile, I can help with that."

His robe hissed, embroidery withering away as though caught in acid.

"Come on," Cawren muttered, swatting at the fabric. "I liked this robe."

"You should've taken it off sooner," she cooed, tilting her head, eyes shining with malicious amusement.

He wanted to say no. Every instinct screamed it. But the pull of her aura, the heat of her presence—it was intoxicating. His thoughts blurred, defenses crumbling under the weight of her influence.

Yeah. Maybe he did need this. A reward. He had survived hell itself, hadn't he? Fought the impossible, lived through glitches and gods. Didn't that earn him something? Didn't it earn him… her?

The thought melted through him, almost drowning him, until he slammed his palms against the sides of his head, jolting himself back. Alesha flinched at the sudden motion.

When his hands fell away, his mask dangled from his grip. A grin split his face, sharp and feral.

"We're gonna do this," he said, voice low. He yanked the cape from her shoulders and gripped the hem of her shirt, lifting it slow, deliberate. His eyes locked with hers. "But I'm not losing this fight."

Her smirk deepened, dangerous and amused all at once.

"Oh, you thought I wouldn't notice?"

She peeled the shirt off herself as if to distract him, baring her body without hesitation, her confidence as lethal as her aura.

Cawren faltered. His grin wavered for half a second as his body betrayed him.

She went to work on him, her mouth enveloping him with a fierce determination. Her head bobbed up and down, her tongue swirling and teasing, as if trying to wrest control from him. It was a dance of dominance, each movement calculated to assert her power.

Cawren responded by cupping her breast, his fingers finding her nipples and rolling them between his thumb and forefinger. The sensation made her gasp, her mouth momentarily losing its rhythm. She retaliated by tightening her grip, her hands working in tandem with her mouth to bring him to the edge of madness.

The exchange was a back-and-forth battle, each trying to outdo the other. Positions shifted, their bodies entwined in a passionate struggle. Her aura, a shimmering force, wrapped around his, trying to ensnare him. His aura, in response, burned away the bindings, pushing back with equal intensity.

She would ride him with a primal need, her hips grinding against him, intent on stealing his very soul. He countered by flipping her over, his body dominating hers from behind, each thrust a declaration of his power. She threw it back with a force that surpassed any blow an enemy had ever dealt him, her body a weapon in this sensual skirmish.

As well as a treasure, a reward he was more than happy to claim. With each touch, each kiss, he felt his anger and desire to destroy fade, replaced by a clearer vision. She was consuming him, and he was using her, their connection a perfect, muddled chaos that left them both breathless and sated.

Breathing hard, Cawren leaned back on his elbows, laughter spilling out between ragged gulps of air.

"A tie," he muttered, chest heaving.

Alesha's grin split wide, smug as a queen. "So I'm up one. Definitely 1–1–0."

"Sure," he said, dry.

She laughed louder, throwing her head back. "Don't be a sore loser. That was good as shit."

Cawren arched a brow. "I would think so—you were calling my name out. Though…" his grin sharpened, "it's funny being called Cawren like that."

Her eyes narrowed, dangerous and playful all at once. "You moan like you was about to cry. Don't talk about me."

His gaze lingered on her bare body, the way her aura curled like smoke and chains around her. He felt lighter. Stronger. Maybe even… free. For a moment, he considered accepting her party invite, letting their strange bond seal tighter. But he stopped himself. Don't lose yourself. Stay focused.

Instead, he willed open his UI, ignoring the way her eyes seemed to track every flicker of his screen. The reward notification glowed bright.

————————————————————

[Daily Task Completed]

Reward Received: [Malefic Gift]

The system window expanded, text shifting into a strange violet hue.

Gift Acquired: Resistance — Sryun (8%)

————————————————————

Cawren blinked. His grin faded. Sryun? He had never seen the word before, never encountered it in-game lore, not even whispered in Ranker logs.

He closed the screen slowly, pulse steadying.

"…What the hell did you just give me?"

Alesha stretched like a cat, smirking without answering.

"I'm serious."

"And I seriously have no fucking clue."

He stared at her. Really stared.

A couple things pulsed in his mind:

Sryun.

Her glitched system.

The abilities that didn't follow any rule he knew. That aura—seductive, predatory, alluring enough to peel his defenses layer by layer. All of it pointed to one conclusion: she planned on consuming him.

And that was fine.

The benefits matched the risk. The power was a tool, and he could sharpen himself with it. He proved he could at least withstand it.

And then there was the Vantis. The message burned in the back of his skull: I have seen you.

For days he'd worried about gods hacking into his system, trying to worm their way through cracks and exploits. But here? The gods were cut off from the region. If anything, this was smoother. Maybe his system was still integrating into his soul, and this "Vantis" was the process? Definitely worth looking into.

He grinned, teeth flashing. After that glitched fight he was now at Level 550 and now he had:

A quest.

Sex that gave him resistances.

And a mystery.

For the first time since appearing in Requiem, Cawren wasn't grinding. He wasn't surviving.

He was having fun.