The room was silent, a suffocating weight pressing down like a lid slammed shut on Saki's final scream, the musky air thick with the lingering scent of arousal and lube, saturated by the perverse logic of the game.
The throne was gone, swallowed by the slick, veined marble floor, now pristine, gleaming under the dim purple light, as if no trial had ever torn through it.
The arcane sigils that blazed moments ago flickered, their lewd, floral slits pulsing faintly before fading, leaving only a scorched, circular burn where Saki's writhing, glistening form once stood, a haunting mark of her erasure etched into the game's cruel reality.
The overhead lights dimmed, casting the group's sweat-soaked, trembling bodies in a sultry, crimson glow, the dungeon's walls shimmering with a reflective sheen, mirroring their disheveled, erotic forms in obscene clarity.
The system spoke one final time, its sultry voice cold yet dripping with sadistic satisfaction.
"Trial concluded. Compliance restored. Lever reset."
Click.
The pedestal returned to its neutral position—lever back upright, gleaming, its surface slick with a faint, oily sheen, as if no one had ever dared to touch it.
The magic holding the group in place dispersed with a soft, teasing whisper, its warm, silken touch lingering on their glistening skin, releasing them from their paralysis.
Reina stumbled forward first, her thigh-high stockings slipping, baring creamy thighs that quivered with each shaky step, her blouse clinging to her heaving breasts, hardened nipples jutting through the translucent, sweat-drenched fabric, her violet eyes hollow yet smoldering with suppressed fury.
Yuri dropped to her knees, covering her mouth, her breaths ragged and frantic, her blouse translucent, exposing her lacy bra and glistening midriff, tears streaking her flushed cheeks, her trembling hands slick with lube residue.
Kanae didn't move, leaning against the wall, her expression blank, her blouse molding to her curves, lacy bra shimmering through the damp fabric, her toned thighs glistening, her breath shallow in the musky air.
Aika stood rigid, arms crossed, her pantyhose shimmering with dungeon dew, her tight skirt hugging her hips, her glasses fogged, her trembling betraying the heat pooling beneath her composed facade, her lips parted in a reluctant, breathy sigh.
And Miki walked straight to Kota, grabbing his damp hoodie.
She buried her flushed face into his shoulder, her body trembling without a word, her needy breaths hot against his chest in the musky glow.
Kota didn't hug her.
He didn't speak.
He didn't even look away from the center of the room, his hoodie clinging to his lanky frame, sweat beading on his brow as he stood frozen in the game's cruel aftermath.
Reina was the one who broke the silence. "…She's really gone," she said, her voice low, even, hollow, her glistening thighs quivering, her blouse outlining her curves, echoing in the chamber's slick walls.
No one responded.
No one argued.
The dungeon itself seemed to wait, its pulse throbbing faintly, savoring the group's submission to its lewd logic.
Aika finally straightened, her pantyhose gleaming, her blouse clinging to her full breasts, her flushed face betraying a reluctant heat as she spoke, her voice hoarse.
"From now on… no one touches anything unless Sakamoto says so."
For the first time, no one disagreed.