Charles's mind was a storm of jagged edges, each thought cutting deeper than the last. Clara. Of all the women tied to him through Lust Sync, Clara had been the rock—sharp enough to spot danger before it struck, stubborn enough to face it head-on. The image of her eyes, once fierce and clear, now glowing with the same unnatural crimson as Vivian's, twisted his gut like a blade. He could still hear her laugh, see the way her lips quirked when she called him out on his recklessness. Now, that same face was a stranger's, corrupted by a force he didn't fully understand.

The limo's tires hissed against the rain-slicked asphalt, the city's neon lights smearing across the windows as they sped toward the penthouse. Mia sat beside him, her face pale from the memory of the Crimson Chain's grip, her hand clutching his with a desperation that made his chest ache. Her fingers trembled, but her grip was iron, as if she feared he'd vanish if she let go.

"We can still save her," Mia said, her voice soft but threaded with a fragile hope, as though she were trying to convince herself as much as him. "Lust Sync has broken influences before, hasn't it?"

Charles didn't answer right away. His eyes flicked to the system interface glowing at the edge of his vision, its gold-orange hue pulsing like a warning flare in the dark.

> **[System Clash Threat: Active.]**

> **[Warning: Rival System Corruption Detected in 1 Sync.]**

> **[If Corruption Reaches 50%, Subject Will Be Permanently Lost.]**

Clara's corruption meter read 28%—and it was climbing, a relentless upward tick that felt like a countdown to his failure. He exhaled slowly, forcing his voice to stay steady. "We don't have much time."

The city outside blurred past, its towering spires and flickering lights a stark contrast to the suffocating tension within the limo. Every second felt like a weight pressing against his chest, the system's cold calculations mingling with his own dread. Clara was slipping away, and he had no idea how to pull her back.

When they reached the penthouse, the building loomed like a monolith against the stormy sky. The lights in the lobby glowed, but something was wrong—terribly wrong. The security guards Charles had hired, men trained to handle any threat, were gone. The lobby was a hollow shell, its polished floors reflecting the dim light like a mirror to nowhere. The silence was oppressive, broken only by the hum of the elevator as it carried them upward. With every floor they ascended, the air grew heavier, as if the building itself were holding its breath.

> **[Alert: Foreign Signal Nearby.]**

The elevator doors slid open, and the sight that greeted them stole the air from Mia's lungs. She gasped, her hand tightening on Charles's arm.

Vivian stood in the center of the penthouse, her silhouette framed against the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the rain-soaked city. Her crimson eyes gleamed like embers in the dark, and her lips curled into a smile that was both beautiful and venomous. But she wasn't alone.

Two women flanked her, their postures rigid, their faces unnervingly calm. Clara stood to her left, her once-vibrant eyes now glowing with that same crimson hue. To her right was Evelyn, her gentle features twisted into an eerie mirror of Vivian's expression. Both women wore faint, unnatural smiles, as if their emotions had been hollowed out and replaced with something else entirely.

Charles's chest tightened, his breath catching. "Evelyn too?"

Vivian's smirk widened, a predator savoring the moment. "The Crimson Chain spreads faster than you think, Charles. You were so busy guarding your little favorite—" her gaze flicked to Mia, "—that you left the others wide open."

Mia stepped forward, her voice trembling with fury. "What did you do to them?!"

Vivian's smile didn't waver. "I freed them."

Charles's fists clenched, his knuckles whitening. "Freed them from what?"

Vivian tilted her head, her crimson eyes glinting with amusement. "From the leash Lust Sync put on them. You really think their love, their loyalty, was real? Every kiss, every longing glance—it's the system, Charles. You've been playing god without even realizing it."

Mia's voice was sharp, cutting through the tension. "That's a lie!"

Vivian's eyes glittered, her tone almost pitying. "Is it?"

Charles's pulse pounded in his ears, each beat a hammer against his resolve. Part of him wanted to dismiss her words as manipulation, a cruel trick to unravel him. But another part—a darker, quieter part—remembered the goddess's voice in the chamber, her warning echoing like a ghost in his mind: *Their bond to you is unnatural.* The memory clawed at him, sowing doubt where certainty had once stood.

Vivian gestured, and Clara stepped forward, her movements precise, almost mechanical. "Clara, tell him the truth."

Clara's voice was calm, devoid of the fire that had always defined her. "I remember everything, Charles. I remember wanting you. Needing you. But I also remember the moment I stopped having a choice."

The words hit like a physical blow, each one landing harder than the last. Charles had seen Clara furious, seen her defiant, seen her laugh in the face of danger. But this—this cold, hollow truth—was something new. There was no heat in her voice, no passion. Just a chilling certainty, as if she had seen the strings that bound her and despised him for it.

Mia's grip on his arm tightened, her voice urgent. "Don't listen—"

But Clara's crimson eyes locked onto his, unyielding. "You made me love you, Charles. And I hate you for it."

The air seemed to thicken, the weight of her words pressing against his chest. He wanted to argue, to tell her she was wrong, that the system hadn't forced her feelings. But the doubt lingered, a poison seeping into his thoughts. Had he manipulated her without knowing? Had Lust Sync turned their bond into something artificial?

Vivian's smile was that of a wolf circling its prey. "You could fight me, Charles. You could try to pull them back. But for every hour you waste, their corruption grows."

The system interface flared, its text stark against the haze of his thoughts.

> **[Clara Corruption: 34%]**

> **[Evelyn Corruption: 22%]**

Mia's voice cut through, sharp and desperate. "We can take them back right now—"

"No." Charles's voice came out harder than he intended, a blade cutting through the chaos. "If I fight them here, in my own home, they'll tear this place apart. And if the system overloads—" He stopped, the unspoken consequences hanging heavy between them. A system overload could destroy Clara and Evelyn entirely, their minds consumed by the warring forces of Lust Sync and Crimson Chain.

Vivian's smirk widened, her eyes gleaming with cruel delight. "Ah. So you do care about keeping them alive. That makes this fun."

She stepped closer, and the faint smell of smoke and iron curled into the air, sharp and metallic. Her voice dropped to a purr, each word dripping with menace. "I'll make you a deal, Charles. Come to me before the final hour. Kneel. Accept my link. And I'll return them to you—clean."

Charles forced himself to meet her gaze, his jaw tight. "And if I don't?"

The smile vanished, replaced by a cold, predatory stare. "Then when the clock hits zero, they'll be mine forever. And I'll make sure you watch."

With a snap of her fingers, chains burst from the air itself, coiling around Clara and Evelyn like living serpents. Their crimson links pulsed with an eerie light, and in a flash, the two women vanished, leaving only the faint metallic scent lingering in the air. The penthouse fell silent, the oppressive weight of their absence pressing against Charles's chest.

Mia turned to him, her voice shaking. "Charles… what are we going to do?"

He didn't answer immediately. His mind was already racing, turning over every possible move, every angle. The system's voice cut through the silence, its tone cold and unyielding.

> **[Critical Update: System War Escalation.]**

> **[New Objective: Reclaim Corrupted Syncs Before Countdown Ends.]**

> **[Additional Risk: Rival System may corrupt True Consort candidate.]**

Charles's jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing. *They're going to come for Mia next.* The thought sent a surge of protectiveness through him, mingling with the dread that had taken root. He pulled her close, her warmth grounding him against the chaos in his mind. "We move now. We can't just wait for them to pick us off."

Her eyes widened, searching his face. "Move where?"

"The mansion," he said, his voice steady despite the storm inside him. "The goddess said it was a core point for Lust Sync. If she's telling the truth, it's the only place I can get enough power to fight Crimson Chain on equal ground."

Mia hesitated, her brow furrowing. "And if she's lying?"

"Then we lose." He said it flatly, because it was the truth. There was no room for hesitation, no time for doubt. Every second brought Clara and Evelyn closer to being lost forever, and now Mia was at risk too.

They left the penthouse immediately, the elevator's descent feeling like a plunge into the unknown. Every step toward the waiting limo made Charles feel the clock ticking faster, each second a grain of sand slipping through his fingers. If Vivian's corruption spread to the others, they could turn against him—against each other. The thought of facing them in combat, of seeing their faces twisted by Crimson Chain's influence, was almost too much to bear.

The city outside felt wrong, its streets too quiet, its shadows too watchful. The rain had stopped, leaving the air thick with the scent of wet concrete and ozone. The limo cut through the night, its engine a low growl, but the silence inside was deafening.

Halfway to the mansion, the limo shuddered to a halt, the sudden stop jarring Charles from his thoughts. The driver's voice crackled through the intercom, tense and clipped. "Sir… roadblock ahead."

Charles leaned forward, peering through the tinted window. His stomach dropped, a cold weight settling in his chest. Three figures stood in the middle of the street, illuminated by the limo's headlights. Their silhouettes were unmistakable, even in the dim glow.

Clara. Evelyn. And Naomi.

Naomi's eyes glowed crimson, just like the others, her once-warm gaze now a hollow reflection of Vivian's influence. Her presence hit Charles hardest of all—Naomi, who had always been the quiet strength in their group, the one who held them together when everything else fell apart. Now, she stood as an enemy, her face devoid of the kindness he'd relied on.

Mia's hand flew to her mouth, a choked sound escaping her. "Oh god…"

The system interface flared, its text pulsing with urgency.

> **[Naomi Corruption: 15%]**

> **[Warning: Multiple Corrupted Syncs Detected. Combat Risk: Extreme.]**

The back door of the limo clicked open, the sound sharp and final. Chains slithered inside, their crimson links glinting like blood in the dim light. They moved with a life of their own, coiling toward Charles and Mia with predatory intent. The air grew thick, heavy with the scent of iron and something darker, something that burned at the edges of his senses.

Charles's hand shot to his side, instinct urging him to fight, but the system's warning echoed in his mind. If he fought them here, he risked losing them forever. But if he did nothing, the chains would take Mia, and the countdown would claim them all. The street outside was a trap, a stage set by Vivian to force his hand, and the three women before him were no longer his allies—they were weapons aimed at his heart.

The chains lunged, their tips gleaming like sharpened fangs. Charles grabbed Mia, pulling her back, but the limo's confined space offered no escape. The system flickered, its interface glitching with static, and a new message appeared, fragmented and ominous.

> **[Warning: Rival System Override Attempt Detected.]**

> **[Entity: Crimson Chain Core. Designation: [REDACTED]. Power Level: [ERROR].]**

The chains tightened, the air pulsing with their malevolent energy. Clara, Evelyn, and Naomi stepped closer, their crimson eyes locked onto him, their movements synchronized like puppets on invisible strings. Somewhere in the distance, Charles thought he heard Vivian's laugh, a faint echo carried on the wind.

Mia's voice was a whisper, trembling but defiant. "Charles… what do we do?"

He didn't answer. There was no time. The chains were closing in, the corrupted syncs advancing, and the mansion—their only hope—was still miles away. The system's glitching interface pulsed once more, its final message cutting through the chaos like a blade.

> **[Objective Update: Survive the Ambush. Protect True Consort at All Costs.]**

The limo shook as the chains coiled tighter, and the headlights flickered, casting the three women's faces into shadow. For a fleeting moment, Charles thought he saw something else—a fourth figure, cloaked in crimson, watching from the darkness beyond. Its presence was a void, a hunger that threatened to swallow everything he fought for.

And then the chains struck.

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