Three Divine Wishes: Yes, I'm OP!

"Milan... speak plainly!" Amber demanded, gritting her teeth.

By now, the situation was shifting from adventurous to something far more serious than she had been willing to admit to herself.

Once again, she found herself in a tight predicament—though such circumstances were nothing new and came with the life she had chosen.

For over forty years, she had lived without fear, always chasing what lay beyond the surface, and more than once she had teetered on the edge between life and death.

Though... That danger was part of why she loved adventuring so much—the thrill was something she could never replace.

But hearing that Milan’s plan had little to do with her directly, and that she might be a pawn in a much larger scheme, changed everything.

Especially when that scheme could potentially harm Liliana and even Akasha... keeping up her facade was becoming impossible.

Milan was already seated in the air again, cross-legged above the laboratory floor, and at the demand she laughed behind the cover of her hand.

The sound was bright and unhurried.

When the laugh thinned, she lowered her fingers, licked her lips, and let her gaze travel openly over Amber’s sealed form—the line of her figure, the face repeated a hundredfold in the tubes around them.

"If you were not a creation... of the semen of hundreds of thousands of men," Milan said, "I would not mind tasting you."

In that moment, Amber’s eyes went wide.

’Wh... what?’ She thought inwardly.

Though she’d long since made her peace with the realities of her origin and bloodline, hearing those words out loud still hit her with a sharp, almost tangible wave of disgust.

Her throat constricted, and for a fleeting instant, even the crisp chill of the lab’s air seemed heavier, harder to pull in.

Her gaze pulled away from Milan and moved, almost against her will, across the countless tubes again—the suspended faces, the identical frames, and even the fluid that held each copy in waiting stillness.

Milan’s voice followed her attention, lower now, almost haunting against the stone and glass.

"You know, every one of these figures... is you."

She let the claim hang while Amber’s eyes tracked from tube to tube.

"Ah~ Honestly, I appreciate you more than I give you credit for."

Whenever Milan spoke of Amber, it was never in a good light—not because of Amber herself, but because of what it took to bring her into existence.

At one time, Amber was far from what anyone would call typical.

Before her bloodline and race were ever altered, she had been a lifeform born from Milan’s catalyst.

Even after being essentially reborn and rebuilt during her evolution into a Potential Human, the power of Milan’s star kept Amber’s status as a Catalyst intact.

So, while she could now be considered fully human, she was still under Milan’s influence.

"Amber... you were my first true victory. The first time I realized my Primordial Star was far more than anyone else believed," Milan said, her voice carrying a rare touch of warmth.

But just as quickly as the sentiment appeared, it vanished.

She shook her head, as if rejecting a road she wasn’t ready to travel down.

Amber’s eyes lingered on her, steady and searching.

"Whatever," Amber muttered as a frown slowly appeared on her face, one she could no longer hide.

"Now that your little pawn has arrived... why not explain what’s next?"

Milan clicked her tongue, the dark smile never leaving her face.

"It’s a surprise, remember?" she said, her tone light and teasing, as if she was relishing the act of keeping the secret just a bit too much.

As the words faded, her expression hardened, shifting into something far more serious.

Her gaze drifted toward the tube of vitality, a grim collection representing all the men she had tortured over the last fifty years.

"Now... I only have six months," she said, her eyes flashing amber one final time. "When that moment comes... the fall of your sweet little Pantheon will begin."

[Winning Affinity]

The moment the last word left her, the affinity answered.

Instantly, her victory settled into place with a pressure that made the laboratory air itself feel heavier. Then every tube along the walls and across the floor detonated at once.

HUMMMMM!!!!!!

BOOOOOOM!!!!!!

As glass shot outwards, scattering everywhere, and fluid burst outward in wide, glistening sheets.

Each suspended figure of Amber—every identical face, every matching frame—came apart into pure blood, thick and luminous, rising instead of falling.

HUMMMMMM!!!!!

The blood did not splatter across the stone.

No, it halted in midair as if the laboratory itself had denied the floor, a massive suspended sphere of pure crimson trembling once before it split cleanly into two thick streams.

WHOOOOSHHH!!

The streams surged outward before breaking into slender currents that curled around the women.

One slipped into slow, deliberate spirals around Amber’s bound form, while the other wound itself about Milan’s drifting body, until each was swathed halfway in thick, blood-red cocoons.

Just before the crimson folds sealed her completely, Amber’s voice broke through.

"A...ah! What... the hell is this?!"

In that instant, pain surged through every sealed pathway at once.

Her face twisted and contorted under the strain... but it wasn’t merely a facial expression of pain.

No, her features started shifting, as if the very blood that was wrapping around her was forcefully reshaping the mold.

Her face, and even the structure of her bones, began to change as if transforming into something completely different... or perhaps someone else altogether.

"Milan... you—!"

Milan’s laugh bubbled up, even as she endured the very same process herself.

Her own face shifted in tandem with the transformation, that unsettling smile pulling wider across features that no longer stayed entirely still.

Her brown eyes gleamed with a sense of completion as the blood cocoons grew denser, and coiling streams wound their way through the chamber, filling it with a chilling, almost hypnotic sound.

"In due time," she said, her voice carrying over Amber’s pain, "the specimen shall become the creator... and the creator into the specimen!"