"Desire is not sin… until the holy begin to tremble."
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
The chains cut into my wrists with every step.
Sacred light glowed along their length—pure, divine, and unrelenting. My arms ached from being suspended behind me, and each pull from the armored Templars guiding me forward left angry red welts across my bare back. I stumbled through the Sanctum's inner halls, feet bloodied by the polished marble, each footprint a quiet rebellion against their false purity.
Above me, the towering murals of Heaven's seven saints watched in painted silence. Each face was beautiful, serene, sorrowful. They were lies. Cold, painted lies.
But I didn't bow.
I didn't break.
I stared straight ahead.
Because she was there.
Saint Mirana. Voice of Purity. The youngest of the seven goddesses.
Her white robes shimmered like woven moonlight, untouched by dirt, shadow, or flaw. A circlet of floating silver—the mark of her sainthood—hovered just above her brow. And her eyes, those endless silver-blue eyes, didn't look away when mine locked with hers.
She stood at the dais like a queen, flanked by radiant archons in gold and pearl armor. Her fingers clenched around her scepter. Her expression was unreadable.
She knew what they were about to do to me.
And still she watched.
The grand chamber echoed with the voice of the High Archon as he read my sentence aloud. His words were fire and brimstone masked by ceremonial elegance.
"Kael of the White Flame, born of dust, once raised into the grace of our divine order—today, you stand judged not for treason, nor for blasphemy of word or action…"
A pause.
"…but for the sin of lust."
A low murmur passed through the attending clergy. I felt their judgment heavy in the air, thicker than the incense smoke. They stared not with pity or disgust, but with a strange curiosity. Because they knew.
They all knew.
It wasn't just lust. It was whom I lusted after.
I didn't deny it.
I didn't look down in shame.
My eyes never left hers.
Saint Mirana didn't speak.
She never did.
Not during the trial. Not even when she was named as the object of my 'corrupt obsession.'
Because if she spoke… maybe she'd have to admit what she saw.
What she felt.
The first time it happened, I had been kneeling in the candlelit prayer chamber. Alone. The temple was silent, the air heavy with my breath and her name whispered under it. My robes lay discarded at my side. My cock was gripped tightly in my fist. I was trembling, half-mad with need.
Her image burned in my mind—her voice, her movements, the soft curves beneath that robe I was never meant to see as a man. She was a goddess, but to me, she was a fantasy so vivid I couldn't sleep without tasting her on my tongue.
That night, I didn't expect anyone to enter. Especially not her.
When the heavy doors creaked open, I didn't stop.
When she stepped inside, I only froze because her presence was a blade of cold purity slicing through my soul.
She didn't scream.
She didn't turn away.
She just watched.
Her face unreadable. Her eyes too wide, too quiet. She took in everything—my flushed skin, the sweat on my brow, the rhythmic movement of my hand still stained with need.
And she asked me only one thing.
"Do you dream of me, Kael?"
The only mercy I was granted was the silence that followed.
I told her everything. Every filthy, depraved vision that haunted my nights. Every detail of how I worshipped her in ways no altar ever allowed. How I imagined tearing away her sanctified robes and fucking the divinity right out of her.
She listened.
And then she walked away.
A week later, I was dragged from my quarters and sentenced without trial.
"For desecrating divine thought with unholy hunger," the Archon continued, "you are condemned. Your soul shall be severed from the Cycle. Your name shall be erased from the hymns. And your flesh…"
He raised a sword that gleamed like captured sunlight.
"…will burn."
I closed my eyes.
Mirana was still watching.
Her hands trembled, ever so slightly.
The blade pierced through my heart.
I felt it all—the heat, the light, the rending of something deeper than flesh. The scream caught in my throat. My back arched, every nerve torn open by divine judgment. I burned from the inside out. They wanted my soul unmade.
They didn't expect what came next.
The light shattered.
And I fell.
Down.
Into darkness.
No pain.
No sound.
Only cold.
Then, a voice.
It slithered into my skull like a lover's kiss, soft and wrong and beautiful.
You were punished for desiring what they fear.You were destroyed for loving the untouchable.I call that holy.I call that power.Do you wish to live again?
I gasped.
Who are you?
The voice answered with laughter, rich and low.
The God they tried to erase. The Flame they cast out. The First Desire.I am the hunger beneath all things.And you… you will be my instrument.
A light pulsed before me—blood red and alive.
What do you want?
To corrupt what they pretend is pure.To show their saints how it feels to kneel for something they've never known.To make them scream—not in prayer, but in pleasure.
My body—what remained of it—shuddered.
And Mirana?
She'll be your first.
Will you take this pact, Kael?
I didn't hesitate.
Yes.
Darkness twisted around me, reshaping every inch of my soul.
I felt bone stretch, skin tighten, blood ignite. A new body was forming, carved not by divine hands but by lust and rage. Runes burned across my chest. Power surged through me like flame in oil.
The voice laughed again—this time proud.
Then rise.
Hell has claimed you. Heaven will kneel.
The chapel was broken and blackened when I opened my eyes.
I lay naked upon a stone altar, surrounded by jagged thorns and shattered idols. The air was thick with heat and ash. I sat up slowly, breath heaving, muscles tight and foreign.
My skin was darker now, tinged red, marked with intricate glowing sigils. My nails had sharpened. My eyes… I could feel them burning.
Floating before me, a glowing crimson interface flickered into view.
[System Boot Complete.]
[Corruptor Class Installed.]
[Species: Hellspawn Hybrid]
[Sin Points: 0]
[Target One: Saint Mirana — Virgin of Voice]
[Objective: Break Her Purity]
I ran a hand through my hair—now longer, tangled with streaks of obsidian. The world smelled different. The air pulsed with potential. My thoughts of Mirana no longer just aroused me.
They made the system respond.
Sin was power now. Lust, my weapon.
The altar groaned beneath me as I stood. My cock throbbed with a strange heat, responding to her name echoing in my mind.
And that's when I felt it.
A pulse. A flare of light. A holy signature I knew better than my own heartbeat.
A rift tore through the chapel's far wall, spilling golden wind and divine resonance.
And through it stepped Saint Mirana.
Draped in ceremonial robes, her staff glowing, hair unbound around her shoulders. Her halo flickered.
Her eyes widened when she saw me.
She knew. She felt the change.
"Kael…?"
I smiled.
"You look even holier than I remember," I said.
She raised her staff but didn't strike.
"You… died."
"I was reborn."
"You shouldn't exist."
"Tell that to the thing throbbing between my legs every time I think of you."
Her mouth parted—no words came.
And I took a step forward.
She didn't move.Didn't run.Didn't raise her voice.
Just stood there—quivering slightly, like the world beneath her had tilted and nothing felt safe anymore.
Her voice came out hushed.
"You're tainted."
I took another step, closing the gap between us. Her glow intensified in protest, but I could see it—there in her eyes.
Curiosity. Doubt. Something darker.
"I was purified by fire," I said. "And this is what rose from the ashes."
Her fingers tightened around her staff, but her feet remained frozen in place.
"You were judged," she whispered, a tremor in her voice. "Condemned for your… corruption."
"And you didn't stop them."
Her breath hitched.
"You watched me burn. You said nothing."
A flicker of something passed through her expression. Not guilt. Not sorrow.
Desire.Buried so deep it trembled beneath her ribs like a secret she'd tried to bury for years.
"I couldn't," she murmured. "I had a duty. You were… impure."
I stepped close enough that our bodies almost touched. The heat between us made the very air thrum.
"Yet you stood in silence while I confessed how I wanted to taste you… how I imagined stripping you out of that shining gown, fucking your innocence raw until you cried out my name."
She gasped—soft, scandalized.
Her knees buckled slightly. She caught herself before she could fall.
But I saw the way her thighs clenched.
The way her pupils dilated.
The way her lips parted just a little too long.
The system responded instantly.
[Sin Points +5][Target Reaction: Arousal Detected | Emotional Resistance Wavering]
Her staff flared with radiant light, a last-ditch effort to banish me.She swung it down in fury.I caught it mid-swing.
My hand closed around the shaft, the heat burning into my palm like molten fire.And still, I didn't let go.
"You feel it too," I whispered. "Tell me you don't. Lie to me."
She stared up at me, breath heaving, jaw clenched.
"Release me," she said.
But she didn't pull away.
"Not until you say it."
Her voice came out low. Shaking.
"I dreamt of you last night…"
Her confession hit like lightning.
She blinked—shocked at her own words. Like they had slipped free without her permission. Like some deeper part of her, wild and starved, had clawed its way into the light.
"I don't know why," she added quickly, too quickly. "It was just… a shadow. You—touching me."
I leaned in, my lips brushing the shell of her ear.
"You moaned."
Her legs gave out for real this time. She fell to her knees on the chapel floor, trembling, eyes wide with shame and something far more sinful.
I knelt before her, tilting her chin up with two fingers. Her breath was shallow. Her pulse fluttered like a bird caught in a net.
"I've entered your dreams," I said. "Now I'll enter your soul."
"You won't break me," she whispered.
"I don't have to."
I brushed my lips just barely against hers—not a kiss, but the promise of one.
"You'll beg me to finish what I started."
The rift behind her pulsed again, flickering with divine urgency. Her staff trembled in her grip.
Then, in a burst of holy wind, she stumbled backward through it.
Gone.
But her scent lingered.
The system pulsed in the air, bright and satisfied.
[Target Escaped – Emotional Conflict Detected]
[Sin Points +15]
[Progress: 12% – Purity Cracked]
[New Objective: Dream Invasion – First
Penetration of Mental Barriers Required]
I stood slowly, staring at the place where she'd vanished.
Her body had trembled.
Her voice had broken.
Her walls were already cracking.
Now all I needed was one dream.
That night, the system offered me entry.
[Permission to Invade Dreamscape: GRANTED]
[Environment: Personal Garden Sanctuary – Subject Mirana]
[Arousal Threshold: 14% | Emotional Guard: Weak]
The dream unfolded like silk.
I stepped into her sacred grove—white marble, glimmering ponds, flowering vines. It was a fantasy of peace. Of purity. The place she escaped to when duty and devotion became too heavy.
And she was there.
Mirana stood beneath a blossom tree in a translucent gown, the fabric clinging to her breasts and thighs like dew on petals. She was barefoot, her skin kissed with moonlight, her silver hair unbound around her shoulders.
She didn't see me yet.
I approached, slow, silent, until I stood just behind her.
"Kael," she whispered, as if sensing me.
She turned.
Her eyes widened. "This… this is a dream…"
"Yes."
"You're not real…"
Her voice faltered as I reached out and stroked her hair—soft, impossibly soft.
"But I feel you," she said, voice cracking.
"And soon you'll feel much more."
She didn't pull away.
She trembled as I traced the side of her neck, fingers gliding down to the swell of her breast beneath the sheer gown. I stopped just short of touching.
Her lips parted.
She didn't speak.
Didn't object.
Her breath was ragged.
I lowered my head, lips brushing her throat, letting her feel my heat, my hunger. She whimpered—quiet, helpless. Her fingers clutched the sides of her gown like she didn't know whether to lift it or hold it tighter.
"Do you want me to stop?" I asked.
She didn't answer.
Instead, she let out the softest sound I'd ever heard.
A moan.
Barely audible.
But real.
The system flared.
[Sin Points +20]
[Target Arousal Level: 38% | Virgin Barrier: Softened]
[Unlocking Skill: Corruptive Touch Lv.1]
I pressed her back gently against the tree, mouth brushing hers, and this time…
She kissed back.
Only for a second.
But enough.
Then, as the dream began to shatter around us, she gasped.
Her hands on my chest. Her thighs pressed together. Her pupils wide and dilated. Her breath caught as the holy light pierced her dreamworld.
"No… I… I shouldn't…"
The dream collapsed.
I was pulled back into my body—cock hard, skin slick with sweat, the altar beneath me burning with demonic runes.
The first seal was cracked.
She wanted more.
And I was going to give it to her.
[SYSTEM UPDATE]
[Sin Points: 50]
[New Power Unlocked: Corruptive Touch Lv.1]
[Next Target Objective: Deepen Emotional Conflict | Initiate Real-World Physical Contact]
Mirana was breaking.
And I hadn't even touched her yet.
But I would.
I would fuck her until her hymns turned into moans. Until she begged for release—not from me, but from the god who failed her.
They thought they could burn me for desiring their divine.
Now I'd defile every single one of them.
One by one.