The limo's interior lights flickered, casting jagged shadows across the leather seats as chains slithered across the floor like metallic serpents. Their glint in the dim light was unnatural, each link pulsing with a faint crimson glow that seemed to drink in the surrounding darkness. The air inside the vehicle grew heavy, thick with a metallic tang that clung to the back of Charles's throat. The chains moved with purpose, coiling toward his legs with a cold, relentless pull, as if they were alive and hungry.

Mia pressed herself against the far seat, her knuckles white as she gripped the armrest. Her wide eyes darted between the chains and Charles, her voice trembling but sharp. "Charles—!"

He kicked one chain away, the impact sending a jolt of icy pain through his leg. Another whipped around his ankle with inhuman speed, its cold sinking straight into his skin like a blade of frost. The Lust Sync interface flared in his vision, its crimson text screaming against the darkened interior:

> **[Warning: Rival System Influence Attempt.]**

> **[Desire Energy Drain: 3%... 6%... 9%...]**

The drain was immediate, a tugging void that sapped his strength, as if the chains were pulling not just at his body but at his very essence. His heart pounded, the interface's warning pulsing in time with his racing pulse.

The driver's voice broke through from the front, high and panicked. "Sir—should I—"

"Drive!" Charles barked, his voice cutting through the chaos. "Get us out of here!"

The limo lurched forward, tires screeching against the asphalt. The engine roared, but the three women outside—Clara, Evelyn, and Naomi—stood unmoved in the middle of the street, their silhouettes framed against the sodium glow of the city lights. Clara raised her hand, her crimson eyes glinting with a predatory intensity. The asphalt itself seemed to ripple, as if the earth were bending to her will. Crimson chains erupted from the ground with a sound like tearing metal, spearing through the limo's hood. The impact was deafening, a scream of steel and shattered glass.

The engine sputtered and died instantly. Smoke poured from the front, curling into the night air like a dying breath.

Charles didn't hesitate. He shoved Mia toward the opposite door, his voice low and urgent. "Out. Now."

They scrambled out of the wrecked limo, the cool night air hitting them like a slap. The scent of burnt metal and scorched rubber filled their lungs, mingling with the faint, unnatural sweetness that clung to the three women standing before them. The street was eerily empty, the city's usual hum silenced, as if the world itself were holding its breath. Clara, Evelyn, and Naomi stood in a perfect line, their crimson eyes fixed on Charles with an intensity that made his skin crawl.

Naomi stepped forward first, her movements fluid, almost hypnotic. Her lips curled into something between a smile and a snarl, her voice dripping with honeyed menace. "Charles…" The way she said his name was both intimate and threatening, a caress wrapped in a threat. "Come with us. We can make this easy."

Mia moved to step between them, her fists clenched, but Charles caught her arm, holding her back. The air around them was wrong—thick with heat and hunger, laced with the cold, metallic bite of the Crimson Chain's influence. His Lust Sync interface buzzed, struggling to quantify the threat, but the data was clear: these weren't just women anymore. They were conduits for something far darker.

"Let them go," Charles said, his voice steady despite the storm raging inside him. "They don't belong to you."

Clara laughed, but it wasn't her laugh—it was deeper, more hollow, like the echo of a cavern. Her crimson eyes gleamed, and her voice carried a mocking edge. "They never belonged to you either, Charles."

Evelyn tilted her head, her gaze glinting with a strange mix of pity and malice. "You made us love you. You thought that made it real."

Charles's jaw tightened, his fingers flexing around the hilt of the concealed blade at his hip. "That's not—"

Naomi cut him off, her voice a low whisper that seemed to coil around him like the chains at his feet. "We remember what we felt before. Before Lust Sync made us need you." Her gaze was like a blade, sharp and unyielding. "And I think I liked it better."

The Lust Sync interface updated, its text flashing urgently:

> **[Clara Corruption: 39%]**

> **[Evelyn Corruption: 27%]**

> **[Naomi Corruption: 18%]**

The numbers were climbing faster now, each percentage point a ticking clock. His window to save them was shrinking, and the Crimson Chain's influence was growing stronger with every passing second. He could feel it—a pressure in his chest, a gnawing doubt that threatened to unravel everything he'd fought for.

Vivian's voice cut through the night, disembodied but clear, as if she were standing just behind him. "Careful, Charles. Every time they speak to you, they plant more chains. Soon, you won't know which of your memories are yours."

Mia spun toward the sound, her voice raw with defiance. "Stop hiding, Vivian! Face him yourself!"

But Vivian only chuckled, her voice a velvet blade. "Why would I, when my hands are already around his throat?"

Chains shot toward Charles again, faster this time, their crimson glow pulsing with malevolent intent. He reacted on instinct, calling up Lust Sync's core energy. A surge of golden light erupted across his skin, the chains hissing as they made contact, their crimson glow dimming momentarily. The three women flinched, their perfect formation breaking for a split second, their expressions flickering between rage and pain.

Charles seized the opening. He closed the distance to Clara in a heartbeat, his hands grabbing her shoulders with desperate strength. "Clara—look at me! You know me. You know me." His voice was raw, pleading, searching for the woman he'd once known beneath the crimson corruption.

For a fleeting moment, something flickered in her eyes—warmth, confusion, a spark of the Clara he remembered. But then the crimson swallowed it whole, her gaze hardening into something cold and alien. She shoved him back with unnatural strength, her hands leaving a burning chill on his skin. He stumbled, the Lust Sync interface flashing:

> **[Desire Energy: 91% → 78%]**

The drain was worse with physical contact, each touch feeding the Crimson Chain's hunger. He couldn't just overpower them—the corruption was using their bond against him, twisting their connection into a weapon.

Evelyn's voice came softer now, almost tender, but no less dangerous. "You could end this, Charles. Just take Vivian's offer. We could all be together, and you'd never have to choose."

Naomi's chains slithered closer, their tips glinting like sharpened fangs, ready to strike again. Charles dodged left, narrowly avoiding their grasp—but he moved straight into Clara's waiting arms. She pulled him close, her lips brushing his ear, her voice a venomous whisper. "If you don't choose me, I'll make sure no one else survives long enough to matter."

The words hit like a physical blow, snapping him back into focus. He wrenched free, his heart pounding as he leapt back toward Mia. "We can't win here," he said, his voice low and urgent. "Not like this."

Mia's eyes were wide, her breathing ragged. "Then what—?"

"Run."

They bolted down a side street, the sound of chains tearing through asphalt echoing behind them. Clara's voice rang out, sharp and cold, cutting through the night like a blade. "You can't hide from us, Charles! We are you!"

The Lust Sync interface was already working, its holographic map plotting escape routes in his vision. The mansion—his stronghold, his last bastion—was still the optimal destination, but getting there with three corrupted syncs hunting him was going to cost more than he could afford to lose. The interface flashed another alert:

> **[System Alert: True Consort Candidate at Risk.]**

He glanced at Mia, her face pale but determined as she kept pace beside him. Her breathing was labored, her steps faltering slightly—she was tough, but she wasn't built for this kind of pursuit. If she fell behind, the Crimson Chain would claim her next, and the thought of losing her sent a surge of desperation through him.

They rounded another corner, their footsteps pounding against the cracked pavement—and stopped dead.

Vivian was waiting at the far end of the street, her silhouette framed against the flickering streetlights. Her crimson eyes glowed like molten metal, casting an eerie light across her sharp features. The chains around her wrists rattled softly, their links clinking like a funeral dirge. Her smile was calm, almost serene, but it carried a weight that made Charles's blood run cold. "Tiring, isn't it?" she said, her voice smooth and taunting. "Trying to hold onto something that was never yours to begin with."

Charles stepped forward, his fists clenched, the golden glow of Lust Sync flickering around him. "If you think I'm going to just hand them over—"

"You already have," Vivian said simply, her smile widening.

And then, from behind him, he heard Mia gasp.

He turned just in time to see a crimson chain snap around her waist, its links glowing with a malevolent light. Mia's eyes widened, her hands clawing at the chain, but it held fast, tightening like a living thing. Naomi stood a few paces away, her sweet smile at odds with the cold cruelty in her crimson eyes. "Got you," she said, her voice almost playful.

"Mia!" Charles lunged forward, his blade flashing as he tried to cut through the chain. But Vivian raised her hand, and the street between them cracked open with a sound like the earth itself screaming. Crimson chains shot upward, forming a jagged wall that blocked him from Mia entirely. The links pulsed with a sickly light, their surfaces etched with runes that seemed to writhe like living things.

"Mia!" His voice was raw now, desperation tearing at his throat. He hacked at the chains, each strike sending sparks flying, but they held firm, unyielding.

Through the gaps in the wall, Mia's eyes met his, wide with fear but burning with defiance. "Charles—don't stop. Find a way." Her voice was steady, even as the chain tightened around her, pulling her back toward Naomi.

Naomi's smile widened, and in a flash of crimson light, she and Mia vanished, leaving only the echo of chains rattling in their wake.

The street fell silent, the air thick with the scent of ozone and betrayal. Clara and Evelyn stepped forward, their crimson eyes glinting in the dark. Clara's voice was a low purr. "One by one, Charles. That's how this ends."

Vivian's gaze lingered on him, her expression almost gentle, but her words were a knife. "You can't save them all. Not when they don't want to be saved."

And then, with a soft rattle of chains, she, Clara, and Evelyn disappeared into the night, leaving Charles alone in the empty street.

The Lust Sync interface flashed a final, chilling alert:

> **[Critical Alert: True Consort Candidate Captured.]**

> **[Time Remaining: 69:42:18]**

> **[Failure to recover within 24 hours will result in permanent loss.]**

Charles stood there, his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles burned, the golden glow of Lust Sync fading from his skin. The mansion was no longer just his best option—it was his only one. But the weight of Vivian's words lingered, gnawing at him. What if she was right? What if the women he'd fought for, the bonds he'd forged, were nothing more than chains of his own making?

The street stretched out before him, dark and endless, the distant lights of the city flickering like dying stars. Somewhere out there, Mia was being consumed by the Crimson Chain, her connection to him twisted into a weapon. And somewhere beyond her, Clara, Evelyn, and Naomi were slipping further into corruption, their memories of him—of who they were—being rewritten with every passing second.

The interface flickered again, its map updating with a single, pulsing marker: the mansion. But a new alert appeared, its text colder than the night air:

> **[Warning: Crimson Chain Resonance Detected at Primary Safe Zone.]**

The mansion wasn't safe anymore. Vivian had already anticipated his next move, and the trap was closing around him. Charles's breath caught, his mind racing. Twenty-four hours to save Mia. Less than three days to stop the Crimson Chain. And now, the one place he thought he could regroup was compromised.

He took a step forward, then another, his boots echoing in the silence. The city loomed around him, its shadows alive with the promise of chains. Somewhere in the darkness, Vivian's laughter echoed, faint but unmistakable, a sound that promised not just defeat, but obliteration.

And as the first crimson glint appeared in the distance—a chain slithering across the pavement—Charles realized the true cost of this fight. It wasn't just Mia he was at risk of losing. It was everything he'd ever believed in.

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