Collide Gamer

“It’s been nice having you here again,” John said.

Maximillian chuckled into his cup of water. “Not like you saw too much of me.”

Three days had now passed since he had talked to the other leaders of Fusion. John had been busy overseeing the creation of the various offices and ministries that would be needed in the times ahead. Past the creation of the systems, he had done little more than nod his head when operations were put together. Matters were operating at a scale where him micromanaging matters was either an effort best kept to local exceptions or would drive him insane with work.

Commissions to puzzle out what land would go to the nobility and the carving up of the new territories into more manageable states was all left to others. They were also largely on hold. There was too much dust in the air to make any meaningful decision about the size of districts and states. By the time the month was over, so many new Abyssals would have come in that all of the borders would need reconsidering anyhow.

“We were both busy dealing with the Great Awakening,” John answered with a sigh. “How do you think your realm will fare?”

“I cannot quite say.” Maximillian put down the cup, a troubled look on his face. “On the Abyssal side, the Habsburg realm weathered the time of nationalism quite well. It never was as strong in the Greater Empire.” He leaned back, eyes still on the table. “I doubt I will make it through this time without making some concessions to the Slovaks and Hungarians, at least.”

John did not say anything about that. He knew that Abyssal Austria was not a discriminating place, so he was not going to take the side of any minorities that tried to leverage the threat of instability for privileges. At the same time, self-determination was a value he held, so keeping them under the thumb of a monarchy felt instinctively wrong.

“I can tell what you are thinking.” Maximillian put some of his usual confidence back into his voice. “The Austria my ancestors built had its time of despotism, like all realms, but it was never a force for evil in the world. It does not deserve to be smashed into pieces by people who chase a fictitious ‘better’.”

“That was a thought on my mind,” John agreed. “I was mostly considering my own plight, selfish as I can be. Now that I am a monarch as well, with the Hidden Tradition as my own dissatisfied province, I can understand the difficulties. You don’t want to be known as a tyrant, but the people who think they could do better will always call you one. Do you give to them, hoping their ideas are actually better, or do you mitigate the risks and invoke their ire?”

“And when they are correct, can you trust that they will stop or will they continue to press and press to replace you?” Maximillian continued. “A threat that, in these coming days, can come from any manner of crazy head. The mundane have many an idea that map poorly onto the Abyss and masses empower hysteria.”

John nodded. Unless they were talking about a Latebloomer, one mundane turning Abyssal could be integrated into the reality of the world of magic fairly easily. Their insane beliefs could be checked by established wisdom, their enthusiasm checked. However, when it was a crowd of people that had no idea what was going on, they could amp each other up. It was not uncommon for the person with the greatest convictions to rise to the top of the crowd. In such conditions, a mob was more a force of nature than a reasonable entity, the human equivalent of a stampede.

“I told you this before and I assure you of this again: you have been there for me when I needed you, several times,” John told his best friend. “Whenever you need me, give me the call. I’ll provide everything I can.”

“Proudful dick that I am, I would like to deny that outright… but I may need to call upon that sooner than I would like. Nothing keeps seditionists in line better than armed loyalists.”

John nodded. Equipping the Austrians could bite him in the rear down the line, since they were the loyalists to Lydia’s sedition. Making the struggle for her independence harder was not good enough a reason to withhold aid from Maximillian. The man had earned it thrice over.

“Any deep, dark secrets you would like to entrust me with before I go?” Maximillian wondered.

John shook his head. “Nothing you don’t know already. I’ll put my attention to Asia for now, so you will only have to bother with the Rat’s meddling influence.”

“Which is bad enough,” Maximillian responded with a sigh and another chuckle. “Alright, give me the lift and then I am out of your hair.”

They both got up and slowly walked to the teleporters, continuing to have idle chatter throughout. The long-range teleporter brought them to New Orleans and the harbour where the last ships of the alliance were anchored. With Maximillian left the last forces of the Greater Empire. Support forces of the Illuminati would follow soon thereafter. All that would be left would be Lu Zhi’s personal vessel and accompanying ships of the Dragonspears, currently harboured in Los Angeles.

“We’ll see each other again soon.” Maximillian held out his hand. “Irielz would kill me if I missed your wedding.”

“I would kill you, you’re my best man!” John grabbed the hand. The two men pulled each other into a back-patting embrace. “See you.”

They separated. Maximillian waved as he turned away. John watched him walk for a little bit, then turned away himself. Standing there and watching another man leave was not a productive use of time, they both knew that.

John scanned the centre of the Order of the Golden Rose as he walked back to the teleporter. The massive battles that had occurred in this place had wrecked much of it, but most of that damage had already been turned into landmarks, integrated into the new structure.

Izha’s final act had cleansed any remaining corruption from the place. With that assurance, William had insisted that, rather than rebuild from scratch, the Order complex be reclaimed and partly turned into an exhibit of the devastation this time had wrought, for future generations to remember.

In that, he had John’s full support. It was a genuinely good idea and the centre of what was now undoubtedly the largest faith in Fusion getting sponsored by the state helped win over hearts and minds. The share the Golden Rose had in terms of the faithful had grown due to two reasons. One was the 200’000 people dead, most of them having lived on the atheistically minded coasts. The other was that Gaia’s involvement in the war had not gone unnoticed.

Everyone knew that Gaia punished those that violated the divide. It was a law of nature, scarcely worthy of worship. That generally held opinion could quickly change when all that stood between one’s own integration into a hellish hivemind and survival as an individual was a singular lucky moment. People were flocking to the faith in massive numbers.

Which was unifying for Fusion’s identity on one hand and likely good for John (with Lorelei’s whole declaration he was a saint) on the other. The difficulty he perceived with this was that it would be an additional separation between the new and old Abyssals. Thankfully, the Order’s doctrine was, all things considered, close enough to Christianity that he hoped that it wouldn't ruffle too many feathers.

John stepped through newly erected gothic arches and walked by the ruins of a monastery, to get back to the courtyard where the teleporter had been left. He was through it in a moment, then returned to his apartment.

Where he found Moira and Rave sitting thigh to thigh.

The redhead being over was far from unusual. Now that the war had run its course, the Warden stayed primarily at the Guild Hall, since she wanted to have an influence over what was happening in the world.

This proximity was a step up from the usual though. There was not even a semblance of distance between them, just naked thigh to naked thigh, close enough that both squished. Rave was in a usually skimpy outfit, blue tube top plus green hot pants, while Moira had some decency with a yellow tank top and a pleated skirt that was just a little bit on the short side.

Looking closer at the situation, it went a little bit further. Moira’s arm was subtly pressing against Rave’s boob. The two didn’t even seem to notice how physically close they were, not until John opened his mouth anyhow. “Are you about to melt together?”

Moira looked down, blushed intensely and then jumped a quarter metre on her butt. “We were showing each other things on our phones!” she declared.

While that was true, proven by the devices still being in their hands, it was not the whole truth. John was of half a mind to criticize. The harem was internal only and this felt like Moira and Rave were sliding towards reigniting some previous habits. He did trust them enough to not bother with more than a stern glance though.

“…Right, so, tiger, I won’t be in the bed tonight,” Rave said slowly.

John took a scandalized breath. “You would leave me to sleep on my own with the other 24 members of my harem?”

“22, I am also taking Hailey and Rel. We’re having a sleepover.”

Humming, John reconsidered his previous stance on just giving a stern glance, then decided that had been warning enough. His trust in his women was the bedrock of his existence. Rave getting very comfortable with Moira was probably going to get Moira hot and bothered, while Rave got her relief elsewhere.

“Hello, Masterrrrrr,” Nahoa purred.

The demigoddess stepped out of the shower room, completely naked. Her skin glistened as it always did, a Perk always keeping a sheen on her brown complexion as if she had been massaged with oil recently. The almost white body markings added pleasantly tribal, symmetrical patterns to her bottom-heavy curves. The deep blue Lover’s Will mark stood out all the more among the lines and swirls.

The contrast between the pink axolotl gills and her white hair was similar. The tresses cascaded downwards, wavy and messy, forming crossed bangs between her green eyes, and covering much of her pointy ears. When she smirked, her brown lips showed sharp fangs.

“Can this ditzy little servant provide you some relief?” the hornylotl asked.

“Absolutely.” Even though John had not been horny when he entered the room, the presence of Nahoa had instantly gotten his pants to strain. Wet and willing maids had that effect on him. To be fair, seeing Moira and Rave so close to each other also had played a role. Him having moral qualms about a potential crossing of their legs did not interest his monkey brain in the slightest.

“I would like to talk to you,” Moira intervened, when John directed Nahoa towards the bedroom. “Now, if that works for you?”

For most other people, his answer would have been no. Since Moira had stopped complaining about and even told him it was fine for him to have sex in front of her, his erection did not get in the way of that conversation. “Alright then,” he said and bent Nahoa over the Couch. The furniture changed so she was nicely aligned. ‘God, that ass.’

Nahoa’s behind was the definition of ‘divinely round’. Wide hips, thick thighs, a Mesoamerican brown, healthy eating, a fit lifestyle, godly genes, and her rebirth as a Natural Spirit all combined into a bubble butt that melted John’s brain from just staring at it. He gave it a light swat, basked in the whispered, “Master,” that left Nahoa’s lips, then unzipped his pants.

His cock smacked down in the valley between Nahoa’s cheeks. He rubbed back and forth on the freshly cleaned skin, leaving a drop of precum on her lower back. There was an urge to slam into her backdoor. An urge that he obliged.

Hips pulled back and his cock was angled. There was the light hitching of breath by two women. John could not fault either. Rave was a known pervert and, for all her statements to the contrary, Moira had her own streak of bisexual nymphomania. Watching a woman like Nahoa getting stuffed by his large cock would have had any even slightly curious woman aroused. The long moan that filled the air told him exactly what kind of expression the hornylotl was making.

“That’s a good girl,” John groaned, once his cock was fully sheathed inside her. To the light smacks of rhythmic thrusts, he asked, “What did you want to talk about?”

“You wish to go on one of your grinding sessions soon, I understand?”

“Over the Christmas days, yes,” John answered.

“I formally request that I may accompany you?” Moira’s presentation of that question was all over the place, tone and word wise. She was blushing, yet staring at him, as if proving something to herself. She was adorable and headstrong and that… confused John a bit.

‘Is she into me?’ he suddenly wondered. The answer to that was difficult, because she sent some of the usual signals, but she was also Moira Brighton, uptight knight. ‘No, it can’t be,’ he denied himself further thoughts on the matter. “You need the extra training?” he asked the platonically reasonable question.

“Yes,” Moira answered with reassuring swiftness. “I am dissatisfied with my performance in recent conflicts and wish to address my shortcomings, as much as I can.”

John wasn’t going to insult her by reminding her how strong she already was. If she wanted to try and improve, then he would help her. “That would be fine with me. It’s only right that I help Jane’s best friend.” Latest content publıshed on 𝗻𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹·𝗳𝗶𝗿𝗲·𝗻𝗲𝘁

“Awwww, he thinks we’re best friends,” Rave drawled with so much irony it looped back around to being honest.

“Outside the harem,” John added this, rather important, detail. “Something else?” he asked, reading on Moira’s face that she had more to say.

“No… that is all…” the redhead answered very slowly.

Watching Nahoa cum her brains out as she got her asshole pounded.