I was finally inside the basement of the house.

First of all—it was big.

No, scratch that—it was cathedral-level big. You could fit a medium-sized depression and a small cult meeting of lolicons inside this place.

The ceiling was so high, it gave me flashbacks of my self-esteem before I became friends with Sexis.

It smelled cool too, like someone had bottled the essence of "expensive AC" and sprayed it over childhood trauma.

But then I saw them—countless shapes, covered in black cloaks.

Tall. Creepy. Silent.

Like dementors taking a nap or a group of priests waiting for their next scandal to hatch.

And just by their shape, I knew.

"You really have kids inside your basement!?" I shouted, because obviously, that's the only logical assumption in a basement.

But the nightmare was just starting.

I turned around to find Sexis—And froze.

"You grew boobs as well!?"

The man looked different. His chest had two perfectly symmetrical confidence boosters and he was wearing clothes now, too.

This bastard had only been gone two minutes and came back looking like he got a DLC from OnlyFans.

No wonder the prisoners screamed when they entered this basement. This place clearly specialized in identity crises.

Erect was beside me, gaping like his brain just blue-screened.

The prisoners were laughing and chatting around us, paying no attention.

Had they all changed too? Bro what is this—basement of transformations or gender reveal for gods?

Then a voice echoed.

"So you finally came, Racis friend?"

I looked at Boob-Sexis, who was now holding a thick metal rod like a wooden stick, smacking his palm with it like a school teacher on meth.

"How do you like this place?"

My lips trembled. "Erect… is it just me or is Sexis talking without opening his mouth?"

Erect nodded solemnly. "Yes, my lord. He's speaking telepathically. Such power was hidden from us."

"Power? He was hiding a lot more than that! Just look at those jugs! Those are not powers, Erect. Those are privileges."

Boob-Sexis looked at me like I'd just farted in church.

But hey, can't blame a man for being astonished at divine creation.

"You idiots. I'm behind you. Look here!" the same voice came again.

Me and Erect spun around faster than politicians after a scandal.

And thank the gods—there he was.

The real Sexis.

No boobs. No clothes except pants. Just the old, familiar disappointment.

"It's finally you. That scared me, man."

Erect nodded like a pigeon on Red Bull.

"Of course it's me. How can you mistake someone else for me?" Sexis sighed.

"Yeah, sorry." I laughed nervously.

But then it hit me.

"Wait. If you're here… then who the hell is that?"

We both looked at the boob-Sexis again.

The impostor roared, "You imbeciles!" and charged toward me with the stick raised like Gandalf with anger issues.

"I am sorry!" I screamed.

Boob-Sexis froze mid-strike. "I came running to you to hit you. Why didn't you run?"

I sighed. "Because I'm tired of running. My legs are still recovering from all the life decisions I've been escaping."

Boob-Sexis narrowed his eyes. "So you said sorry instead? Isn't that more cowardly than running?"

"…Yes. But if a sorry can save lives, then violence is just bad grammar." I rubbed my neck. "Also, kinda my bad. I treated you like a monster. Should've asked Sexis first."

Boob-Sexis blinked, emotionally disarmed. "Fair point." Then quietly slinked back to the sidelines, holding the stick like a disappointed PE teacher.

I turned to the Alien King. "So, who is that? Your wife? Husband? Sugar daddy? Father?"

Sexis sighed like he regretted every choice that led to this moment. "She's my mother."

"Da FUCK?" Me and Erect screamed in unison, the harmony of disbelief echoing through the basement.

"But you said your mother was dead?" I asked, squinting at him like I was trying to solve emotional algebra.

Sexis frowned as deep as mariana trench. "When the fuck did I say that?"

"You never said it," I shot back. "But when we asked about her, you just stared at the floor with that sad orphan look. What did you expect us to think? That she was underground doing yoga?"

Sexis laughed. "Oh, that? I did answer you, Racis."

"When?" I barked, sounding like an angry dog with no bitches.

"You asked me where my mother was. I looked down and was about to tell you she's under the house. But you cut me off."

My eyes twitched. "So you mean to tell me—you were looking down because your mom was literally under the house?"

"Of course," he said, like it was the most normal family arrangement ever.

I rolled my eyes so hard my ancestors clapped.

Then I remembered something.

"Wait—why is your mother in the basement? Babysitting the kids you've hidden here?"

Sexis arched his brow. "Kids? When did I ever say I have kids in the basement, Racis? If I had kids, I'd be the happiest alien alive."

"The fuck you saying, you cosmic maniac? We just escaped prison—don't prepare another one for me!"

He chuckled. "Sorry to disappoint you, Racis. No kids here."

"I'm not disappointed, bastard! Don't twist my words. Then what the hell are those things under the cloaks?"

Sexis tilted his head toward the cloaked figures and sighed like a dad about to explain taxes.

"They're not kids, Racis. They are…" He hesitated, then looked at his mother. "My mother will tell you."

He gracefully threw his mother under the metaphorical bus.

I turned to Boob-Sexis—Sexis Mom Edition.

She met our eyes and started walking toward us. The prisoners around me still laughed and gossiped like schoolgirls at a funeral.

Then—she inhaled deeply and—

"ATTENTION!"

The word hit harder than a childhood slap.

My spine straightened on its own. Even my sins paused to listen.

Her voice wasn't feminine—it was the voice of someone who's smoked cigarettes since the dinosaurs went extinct. When she shouted, even Kratos would've gone, "Yo, chill, ma'am."

The prisoners instantly shut up.

Every one of them froze.

A few sneaked glances at me. I nodded like, "Yeah, I ain't fighting her either."

At that moment, I knew—this woman wasn't just a mother. She was a mythological threat. She'd whip this entire basement into shape faster than I could finish a bad idea.

She was about to make soldiers out of these wimps… including me.

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