FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Have you ever been in the clutches of oblivion? Imprisoned in a void with no escape, your mind the sole place of refuge from the emptiness around you, your thoughts the only company from the solitude beyond.

But like a gramophone disk, each playback wears it out. The needle of the mind scratches through the grooves of memories, scraping them away as each scene plays over and over. Every repetition erodes the memory. Details get lost, new elements are fabricated.

Dragged on long enough, the resultant disk is unrecognisable from the original. Who are you, if the memories you hold aren't real? Yet the record still spins, and the needle continues to etch its irreparable grooves on the disk. The void eats away your psyche and tears at your soul. Whatever's left at the end of eternity is an unrecognisable husk.

A product of oblivion.

---

The scene played out in slow motion as Decro relived the experience. The battle cry of his men, the swinging of their spears, the heat of the battle. Bright flashes of red and orange light would illuminate the sky, filling the air with high-pitched whistles as they hurtled towards him. The ground would shudder from the impact of the first magic bomb, incinerating 10, 20 of his soldiers in one fell swoop. A tornado of flames would spew from the point of impact, turning more of his men into charred corpses.

The next magical spell would explode closer to him, turning more soldiers into living torches until their agonised screams died with them. Decro would order his men back as burning brimstone rained from above. They would run for their lives. Many more would fall to the destructive spells of the enemy mages.

A spell blast would hit Decro in the back and he would freeze. The rest of the world would race by him in a flash, as if they were sped up fifty times. His men would disappear over the mountains in blurs. His serpentine enemies would surround him, talking amongst each other in comically swift motions as they moved in jittery spasms. The wolf would be unable to make out the high-pitched and rapid words they were speaking.

After a few seconds of paralysis, the world would slow down again. The snakes' gestures and speaking would gradually return to their normal paces, and Decro would regain control of his body.

"The time-freeze spell is wearing off," a blue-scaled snake would say. "Do you want me to cast another one, or have we decided?"

"I say we just kill him now," the crimson snake would respond. A burning flame ignited in his hand, licking his wrists excitedly. "Didn't we agree we're not taking prisoners?"

Decro would exert all the strength his battle-worn body could muster. Trying to move would feel like pushing through thick mud. Just a bit more, then maybe he could attack the snake in front of him. It would be a miracle if he could escape during the confusion, but chances are, he'd be instantly killed with a spell. At least he'd be able to take one of them down.

"This is an exception," the orange snake would say. "The Great Leader specifically ordered for his live capture. This wolf has been leading the tribes into battle. We've lost a lot of good men to these savage barbarians--"

"All the more I want to end his pathetic life here and now."

"No, The Great Leader should be the one to deal with him," the orange viper would say.

"By the fool's fangs, the Leader can go flay the hog."

"Do not blaspheme the Great--"

"And you can go flay the hog too--"

Decro's temporal prison would dissipate and he would swipe his claws at the blue snake. Surprised, the serpent would instinctively raise his hand to defend himself. The wolf would leave a deep gash across the snake's forearm before a purple blast would fling him through the air. He would hit the ground heavily, sending his head spinning. His vision would clear, and he would see the crimson snake standing over him with a ball of purple magic swirling in his hands.

"Enough blabber, we'll say he died in the chaos of battle. Our pyro-discharges wiped out half their army, along with their legendary war chief. We tried our best, but it was an unavoidable accident. There was nothing--"

There would be a flash of deep blue light, then the crimson snake would crumple to the ground where he laid lifelessly. Another spell would hit Decro, immobilising him again. It was a spell of paralysis, leaving the flow of time unchanged for him.

"Enough of this traitorous talk." The orange viper would extinguish the blue glow from his right hand. "Disobedience in battle is akin to treason, punishable by death. I will not stand for insolence among my men."

He would nudge the lifeless serpent with the tip of his leather boots, making sure he was dead. "We're taking him back to the Fortress to the Great One. Anyone else have any objections?" He would put one foot on the corpse's head.

"No, sir," everyone else would echo.

There would be a burst of light as his mind entered stasis. When he woke up, he would find himself in the prison cell he was now in. At least, he thought it was a prison cell. He was stuck in a kneeling position with his head pointed down and his hands behind his back. With his angle of vision, he could make out a stony floor and time-worn wooden door. His battle armour had been stripped off him, leaving him wearing nothing but his loincloth that barely covered his manhood.

Humiliating.

He was centred in a glowing purple circle on the ground. Within it were smaller, concentric rings of runic characters. They spun about him, keeping him trapped in his pose of submission with no way to move. With nothing to do, he played out the scene in his mind again. The battle. The deaths. The capture.

Maybe if he called the retreat earlier, he wouldn't be in his position. Maybe if he attacked the orange viper instead, it would send the other snakes into disarray, enabling his escape. Maybe if he had devised a different combat strategy, the tide of the battle might've been different.

The battle. The deaths. The time-freeze spell. The snakes. The prison. Again and again, in an endless cycle of dismal rumination. He tried to think about something else, but nothing came to mind. Thinking about the future would involve imagining his interrogation, torture, imprisonment, execution, or some combination of them. Nothing to think about the present besides the spinning magic circles and the oppressive air of the cell.

The past. He could think about the past. Back when he was a young wolf in his tribe. Life was hard, but there were brief moments of happiness that he had always cherished since. Playing by the village river. Splitting the spoils of a good hunt. The nightly campfires in each other's company. Before the Terrible War reached them. Before they had to fight for their village, fight for their lives. Waging battle after battle until he was captured.

Gah.

The preparation for battle. The fighting. The raining flames. The deaths. The retreat. The time-freeze spell. The snakes. The prison. It all led back to this. Nothing else he could think about that wouldn't lead back to the same thought.

He was hungry and thirsty. His throat was parched. His stomach ached with the void of a bottomless pit. He had been here for more than a few days. Surely he should've died of thirst by now. The magic must've been keeping him alive.

Alive to deliberate over the same battle, over and over. Again and again.

---

The sound of dragging metal broke Decro out of his tortured trance. The lock was released and the cell door opened. Unable to move, he could make out the leather boots and the scaly shins of the person entering. It was another snake. Decro was hoping against hope that it was another wolf. A fantasy that had played out in his head was one of him being rescued by his people. So much for that.

A glowing yellow collar materialised around his neck, attached to a leash of the same colour. The green snake muttered an incantation and the binding circle faded away, releasing Decro. However, his arms were still bound behind his back.

"Get up," the snake ordered, tugging on the leash.

Decro growled. He was not a pet dog to these heinous creatures. A burst of pain engulfed him and his body shuddered.

"I'm not repeating myself."

The wolf wanted to resist, but it would only be futile. Even if he escaped from the snake, he didn't know where he was. There was no way he could find his way out of this dungeon, much less make it all the way to freedom. He could demonstrate his defiance by resisting, but that would probably lead to more unnecessary pain. He could--

Argh! Decro convulsed and writhed in agony as more pain surged through his body. He collapsed, smashing his face onto the floor.

"I can do this all day."

Decro squirmed. It hurt. It hurt so much. When his vision returned and he could once again control his body, the wolf stumbled to his feet. He had no choice but to follow the snake. They navigated the corridors of the dungeon. Whenever they came to a doorway, the snake had to dispel the magical seal glowing in its middle. There would be a soft "gling" sound as the seal faded away and the door would open for them. Decro's suspicions were right: it would be impossible to escape if he had tried to run.

They climbed up flight after flight of stony stairs until they emerged from the dark stairwell into a bright foyer. Decro squinted as the warm afternoon rays of the sun shone into his eyes. His heart skipped a beat. A wave of emotions swelled within his body. Just a brief taste of freedom. How long has it been since he had seen the sun?

But he knew that this freedom was merely an illusion. As a captive in the enemy's base, he was far from liberated. A tug on his leash reminded him of that. As he followed the snake through the foyer, he saw both snakes and wolves milling about. The snakes were dressed in flowing robes with gold and silver trimmings. Their movements felt refined and elegant, as if they were floating on air rather than walking.

Most of them were followed by other animals. Decro spotted eagles, horses, and fellow wolves. Unlike the snakes, however, they were dressed in brown tunics made of coarse linen and leather belts. Their heads were bowed in submission as they followed their masters. Ears were pressed flat against their heads. Tails were tucked between their feet.

What had become of his people? Were they captured too? Forced to serve as slaves to the Cobra Empire? And what about the tide of the war? Who was winning? It was only a matter of time before his warriors stormed this place and freed them, right? He had to have hope. His people had to have hope.

But there was no shine of hope in their eyes, no sign of faith in their spirits. Broken. That was the word. Their souls were broken. As Decro followed the snake, he caught the attention of others. The snakes gave him odd looks of malicious curiosity mixed with sadistic amusement. Some of the wolves looked at him with dropped jaws. Those with lupine partners would nudge their fellow slave and they would both gawk at him in disbelief.

He was led down a corridor, then up a stairwell. The two of them climbed the steps, passing floor after floor until they came to the top of the stairs. With another wave of his hand, he dispelled the seal on the stairwell door, and it swung open. They stepped into a corridor that was lit with a warm, orange glow.

As they made their way down the corridor, Decro sensed something was off. The lighting in the room was steady, as if they weren't lit with the unsteady flame of torches. In fact, where was the light coming from? The glow seemed to emanate from the walls and floor, covering everything in an even blanket of soft orange.

The walls and floor, too, didn't appear natural. They were smooth, inlaid with intricate designs of gold consisting of geometric shapes, radial lines, and waves. The reflective gold patterns were mesmerising, as if drawing Decro deeper into them. Beneath his feet, the floor was cool and sleek, feeling almost soft beneath the rock-worn paw pads of his calloused feet.

But what felt uncanny was how artificial everything was. There were no signs of chisel marks or scratches on the walls and floor, no evidence of the tools used to build this place. It contrasted the huts made of stone and wood that were commonplace in his village, the animal-fat torches they burned at night. This place wasn't built by mortal hands.

Magic. This place was brimming with magic. That was what felt wrong with it.

As they came to a doorway, the door swung open for them. The collar and leash around Decro's neck dissipated.

"Wash yourself of your filth," the snake ordered. "Your... attire will be brought to you. Be changed before I bring you to see the Great One." The way he said "attire" was heavy with disdain and disapproval.

Decro stepped into the room. He opened his mouth to ask for an explanation, but the snake closed the door behind him, leaving him alone in the room. The room was circular with two doors leading into it. The door behind him was grand and ornate, while the door across the room was tucked behind a silk curtain as if to conceal it. It was a door for slaves.

In the middle of the dome-shaped ceiling was a ring of glowing orange light. Water poured from a hole in the ceiling into a circular pool in the middle of the room. Surrounding it were white marble benches, and a blue cloth was neatly folded on one of them, presumably for him to dry himself. He took off his loincloth and scrunched his nose. The leather was worn out and musky. How long had he been imprisoned? He placed the dirty rag on the bench and got into the pool. The water went up to his hips, caressing his body with its cool embrace.

Decro waded to the column of water and stood inside it. The burst of coldness surprised him and he let out a soft gasp before letting the refreshing flow soak his skin. His fur was terribly matted. Sweat and dirt caked his white and silver fur, turning them into muddy shades of brown and grey. The wolf guessed he reeked of the stench of dried sweat too. He hadn't had a chance to bathe since... since the battle.

No. He couldn't dwell on it again. He was out of his cell, and he needed to look towards what laid ahead. As he scrubbed his body clean, he pondered his situation. Why was he here? The serpents were known for their ruthlessness, slaughtering their enemies and taking no prisoners. They would then raid the undefended villages and enslave the remaining tribespeople.

Yet they took him prisoner. From the memory that had played over a thousand times in his head, he knew this "Great Leader" had ordered his capture. That would make this place the "Fortress".

But why him? Why not kill him along with the rest? And why was he made to clean up?

The tired soldier had no answers. He sighed as he got out of the pool, leaving a trail of water as he made his way to the drying cloth. So many questions, so little answers.

What about his people? What had become of them? There was no way his people could've defended against the powerful magic that the serpents wielded. He hoped most of them survived. May Hetmir protect his people. He let out another sigh and slumped his shoulders.

Decro was clean now, but his attire wasn't here yet. He wrapped the drying cloth around his waist and sat on a bench. The gold designs in the walls reflected the light, casting glistening patterns of yellow and orange on the surface of the pool.

The shimmering water captivated him. The gold reflections turned into the reflection of the sun on the surface of the river. The sound of pouring water turned into the crashing water over the smooth rocks of the river bed. He was back at the river by the village on a warm afternoon, many years ago.

He was a young wolf again, splashing water at the other tribespeople. It was a day of rejoicing; they had a bountiful harvest, and food would be plentiful for months to come. His tribe was celebrating the festival of Living Water, where they played in the creek in honor of Hetmir, their patron god. The wolf cupped his hands and scooped up a handful of water.

"Hey, Ryder!"

The blue wolf turned around, only to get a faceful of water.

"Hey! I'll get you back for this!" he giggled and retaliated with a flurry of splashes.

"Missed me!" Decro waded away as fast as he could, shielding his face from the water as he dodged between the other frolicking tribespeople. Ryder chased after him, both boys laughing as they exchanged splashes. This was a simpler time, when survival was farming and raising livestock. Before the Terrible War was forever etched into their minds.

Ryder eventually caught up with him and grabbed him by the shoulders.

"Gotcha!"

"No fair!" Decro turned around. "You're older than me!"

"Only by two months."

"Still counts! I've won! I've w--" He was interrupted as Decro splashed water into his face. "Decro!"

"Hah!" The grey wolf was already running away.

"Decro! Is that you?"

"Huh?"

"Hey, snap out of it!"

Decro found himself looking into the eyes of Ryder, albeit much older than the Ryder he was playing with. Creases were etched on his forehead, and wrinkles had made their homes beneath his eyes. A scar went down his left eye, a souvenir from defending the village.

"Is... is that really you?"

"Ryder, what's going on?"

"Where have you been? There was a battle. You called the retreat and we ran. Most of us escaped, but you were missing. Everyone thought you were killed!"

"After they captured me, they knocked me out, and I woke up in a cell. They just released me today and brought me here."

"Ah. I thought it was something like that. Some people had doubts, you see. They said you were a coward. That you ran away to save yourself, leaving us to die or be enslaved."

"I would never do that!"

"I believe you. You would never--"

"So what are you doing here? Are you breaking me out of this place?"

"Huh?"

"We can't waste time now. We've got to get out of here. What's the current status of the war?" Decro got to his feet and grabbed Ryder's feet, pulling him towards the door.

"I don't understa--wait, do you know how long it's been since you disappeared?"

"I don't know. Weeks? Months?"

"It's been 7 years, Decro. You've been missing for 7 years."

"That... that can't be."

"The Terrible War is long over. The Cobra Empire has taken over the whole of Trastria. They... enslaved us all."

"You guys didn't fight back?"

"We had no choice. They killed anyone who resisted. Remoh, Allei, Linhart... the snakes showed no mercy."

Decro stumbled back. Feeling for a bench with his hand, he collapsed onto it. "I... I had no idea. All this time, they kept me in the cell. They had a spell that kept me immobile. And I... I couldn't tell the date. I didn't know it's been years since--"

"It's not your--"

"Look, I--"

There was the sound of approaching footsteps"

"There's no time. I've stayed here long enough."

"Wait, I still don't know--"

"The Great One specifically requested you put this on for your audience with him."

"What does he want with me?"

"I don't know." There was the telltale "gling". "Please, take care."

The door swung open, cutting their conversation short. Ryder hastily shoved a stack of folded leather into Decro's arms before making his way to the door. He bowed submissively to the snake before exiting through the slave door.

The green snake eyed them with a sceptical look and let out a snort. "Get changed." He closed the door again.

"You take care too," Decro mumbled to a long-gone Ryder.

He laid out the clothes that his friend had handed to him, only to find it wasn't the silky robes that the snakes wore. It was made of leather. By its scent, he could already tell. The leather was supple from use in numerous battles. Frayed edges and rusty buckles reflected its age. The spaulder was the skull of a defeated tyrant, worn as a mockery of the slain dragon.

The wolf could barely believe it. This was his cherished battle armour. Through his drawn-out imprisonment, a coat of dust had made its home on the tarnished metal. But the frays, dents, and scratches were still the same after all these years. They reminded him of home.

But this wasn't the time to reminisce. His captors were waiting for him, and the last thing he wanted to do was to incur their wrath. Muscle memory kicked in as he picked up the armour. Back in the village, the warning horn could sound at any time, be it during harvest or in the dead of the night. Once the alarms were sounded, every second counted. On went the trunks, then the loincloth. Arm guards, shin guards, chest straps, spaulder. The dagger was slipped into the waistband. Then lastly, his trusty spear.

Decro was ready.

He wondered why he was permitted his spear when the door opened again. The snake looked him over with the same disdain.

"Follow."

This time, there was no leash to hold him. With a spear in his hand, he felt less like a prisoner and more like a warrior once more. He clenched the wooden shaft of his weapon. His war-honed instincts urged him to kill the enemy. A sharp thrust into the back of the snake would kill him immediately. Even magic could not save him.

Then what? With no escape from the Fortress, only a painful execution awaits. The snake wasn't important. His role would be taken by someone else and his death would be quickly forgotten. This trade of life was not worth it. He would have to bide his time.

The corridor eventually led into a wider passage. They passed snakes and their wolf slaves, attracting more curious gazes, until they finally came to a grand hall. The hall alone was as wide as the village river and its ceiling was as high as the trees in their forest. The walls on either side of him were missing, allowing a breathtaking view of the sky. On the opposite end was a wall with imposing double doors that were at least 5 times taller than him.

They walked down the hall between the 2 rows of stone pillars that supported the ceiling. A cool breeze washed over them, stirring the delicate robes the snakes were wearing. Decro felt like he was walking amongst the clouds. Decro shuddered.

Two gatekeepers stopped them in front of the double doors. They wore plates of silver armour over their robes, reflecting the afternoon sun.

"Have you been permitted an audience with the Great Leader?" one of them asked.

"The Great Leader wishes to speak to the chief of the wolf tribes. I have brought him here."

"Very well."

The gatekeepers turned back to the doors and moved their hands as if they were dancing. Three magic circles appeared on the door, spinning fervently. Each one emitted a resonant "zoong", as if harmonising with each other in an other-worldly song. After a few minutes of waiting, the first seal unravelled itself. Its glowing rings and symbols unfolded into lines and retreated into the grooves in the door as it was dispelled. The process repeated once more with the second seal. By the time the third seal was opened, Decro was itching to move. With a groan, the doors slowly swung open.

This room was circular, if it could even be called a room. Apart from the wall behind him, the rest of the chamber opened up to the vast expanse of sky. Built into the floor was a pit of fine sand, a step lower than the rest of the room. Flat rocks in the pit formed stepping stones, leading to the circular platform in its middle where a black-scaled snake was floating. His back was turned to them as he sat crossed-legged. His hands were on his knees in a meditative pose as he hovered in the air. Large strips of translucent fabric hung from the high ceiling, partially concealing the snake.

Was that the "Great Leader"? Was this the throne room?

It looked more like a garden than a throne room. Yet the snake escorting him seemed nervous about being here. The serpent took one step into the room and immediately knelt to the ground.

"Kneel!" he hissed beneath his breath.

Decro ignored him.

"Imbecilic mutt! Show some respect to--"

"At ease," the Great One raised his right hand with an open palm, signalling for peace. "I appreciate the gesture, my loyal subject, and for that I am grateful. But I will not demand the respect of someone from whom I have not yet earned."

"My deepest apology, my Lord. I shall accept my punishment."

"There will be no need for that. No harm has been done." There was a pause. "You may excuse yourself."

"Thank you, my Lord. You are most merciful." With his head still bowed, he stood up and shot a dirty look at Decro before backing out of the room.

The double doors closed behind him, followed by the shimmering sounds of the magic seals reforming. Decro stood there in silence, waiting for the snake to say something. A gust of wind graced the chamber, causing the hanging chimes to sing their metallic tunes. The fabric strips came to life, swaying to the wind in a synchronised dance.

When it all died down again, the snake still hadn't moved. The wolf furrowed his brow. What was this nonsense? Was this a joke? He opened his mouth to say something when the snake lowered one foot to the ground. His bare foot landed lightly on the stone floor, then the other one followed. He let his weight fall on his feet and his robes drifted to the ground, as if gravity had just come out of a trance and returned to the snake.

He turned around to face the wolf. Streaks of sapphire blue scales matched the colour of his eyes. His movements were firm but refined as he stepped off the platform and onto the stones, making his way towards Decro.

The wolf maintained a stoic expression, but beneath his stony look was a flurry of emotions. He was nervous of the snake's powers. He was angry at the snake's cruelty. He was confused by the snake's gentle demeanour. And he was curious.

"Come, walk with me." The snake waved his hand at his side, inviting Decro over.

The wolf raised one brow, but he joined the snake as they walked on the pathway that circled the pit. As they got close to the sides of the room, the wolf saw that only a knee-high curb separated the edge from a prolonged plummet to the ground. Decro's heart lurched. It didn't bother the snake as they continued around the room.

Peering over the edge, Decro could make out the rooftops of the houses below. Unlike the wooden huts in his village, these buildings were made of pale yellow stone, laid neatly in a grid that sprawled as far as the eye can see.

The serpent stood beside him. "Beautiful, isn't it?"

"Why am I here?"

"Ah, straight to the point." He contemplated the question as he gazed thoughtfully into the sky. "I'd like to know too."

"Don't play games with me. You captured me, imprisoned me, and now you've brought me here."

"And why did I capture you?"

"How would I know? He glared at the snake, who gazed back silently. "We're enemies. Maybe you wanted to get rid of me because I was leading my men into battle."

"And what made us enemies?"

"The Terrible War."

"And who started the War?"

"You did."

The snake raised a brow. "Did I?"

"You started attacking us."

"How about the bears? How about the tigers? We were not the first."

"What are you getting at?"

The serpent waved his hand across the ground. "Look at the snakes."

As Decro looked closer, he saw the gold lines on the ground portrayed the two intertwined snakes, one white, one black. He couldn't see their heads or tails, only their long bodies circling the room, weaving between the other lines in an elaborate pattern.

"They wander through life, carving their journey until their lives converge at the crossroads. To know how they came to this juncture, we have to start at their beginning."

"How does that help?"

"We trace their paths. We establish the events in their lives that shaped their course. Then we'll know why you're here today, why I'm here today."

The chimes filled the silence with their carefree voices. The snake paced leisurely alongside the golden outlines of the etched snakes, guided by their undulating bodies. Decro followed him.

"Start from the beginning, warrior. Tell me, what is your journey?"

The wolf hesitated. How much could he reveal? Then again, he was already a prisoner to a person who could arrange his death with the snap of a finger. Nothing he said could make things worse.

"I'm Decro. Born in spring, 27--no, 34 years ago. Our tribe raised all the pups together, so I'm not sure who my birth parents are."

Where was this going? The snake watched him intently, hanging onto every word he said.

"Growing up was alright, but the winters got worse over the years. A lot of the litter didn't make it."

"And why not?"

"Food was scarce. Maybe they weren't strong enough." Decro shrugged.

"How did that affect you?"

"I--I don't... I mean, that's how the world works. The strong endures, the weak perish."

The snake considered the last statement. "I can see how you arrived at that."

"It paid off," Decro scoffed at the snake's reluctance to agree. "When the previous chief passed, the rest of the tribe nominated me to take his place. The previous winter, I had hunted more game than the rest of the tribe put together. I was only 19, then."

"19? Were you the strongest in your tribe?"

"The older wolves were stronger."

"So how did you hunt more than them?"

"I used my brain. I built traps that would ensnare the passing animal. I split my hunting pack into two groups; one would make a lot of noise, making the animal panic and run blindly into the second group's ambush." Decro grinned smugly.

"You are very talented." The snake nodded. "And where did this path lead you?"

The wolf's eyes went dark. "Our village thrived while I was chief. Then 3 years later came the Terrible War. Everyone was fighting. Everyone wanted more. It wasn't just land or food. They wanted power, precious metals, gemstones." He shook his head. "We all suffered."

"But you survived."

"5 years. The strong endures."

"Indeed. A lot of villages fell within months. Tell me, how did you succeed, where others have failed?"

"I adapted my hunting skills to war. We were the hunters and our enemy was the prey. We fended off the eagles when they attacked, then the waves of bulls when they came. The other wolf villages noticed our victories and pledged their allegiance to me in return for their safety. Our tribe grew.

"By the time the bears amassed their army and tried to invade us, we were trained and ready. We repelled their forces."

"And the tigers?"

"They never reached us. I think you conquered them first."

"Wiped them out." The snake's expression was heartless, but there was a hint of regret in his tone. "But do go on."

"You know the rest. Your people attacked. We resisted for months before your soldiers captured me. You put me in a cell for 7 years, then brought me here today." Decro sneered.

"I see," the snake acknowledged, unfazed by the accusation.

He stopped in front of a gold outline of a diamond, etched beautifully on the stone floor. Emerging from it were the tails of the white and black snakes.

"It seems we have reached the genesis of the snakes."

The chimes rang out shrilly as a gust of wind swept through the room. Once it died down, the snake resumed his stroll, this time following the body of the black snake.

"Now, I owe you my half of this story. My name is Sephos Valon, born into the Diviner Sect of the Cobra Nation. I spent my life studying divination: reading signs, foretelling the future, and controlling Gaia's Anima."

"Anima?"

"It is what we call the unseen energy that flows around us. Over hundreds of generations, our sect has studied its powers and learnt to control them."

"Magic," Decro interjected. "Your weapons in war."

"Up to that point, no. We were a peaceful people."

The wolf snorted.

"Our empire was built on Anima," Sephos continued. "The Diviner Sect is the humble backbone of this nation. We bring forth light when there is darkness, heat when there is cold, shelter when there is none." He gazed outwards at the city.

"Did you build all these houses with magic?"

"Indeed. Every stone is cut with Anima blades. In each home we enchant a bowl to provide never-ending water. The walls give off heat and light. The process is tedious, but we make sacrifices for the good of our people."

Decro bit his lip. The wolf knew that the Cobra Empire had tools and technology beyond his own tribe, but he had always imagined them still living in huts, with minor conveniences solved by magic. He never thought that their magic was so pervasive, permeating every facet of their lives.

"The event you call the 'Terrible War' started with a feud between two small towns. Their"You used your... Anima thing for war."

"That was part of the proposal, but the intricacies of the Master Plan can be harder to grasp."

"Sure, conquering the rest of the continent. What's so hard to understand?" Decro stopped in his tracks.

Sephos turned around and considered the wolf with furrowed brow, almost with a hurt expression on his face. Decro gripped his spear tightly, expecting the snake to strike him at any time. Instead, Sephos turned away and sighed.

"A speck in one's eyes can distract a hunter from the beast before him. I believe the people became so fixated on the atrocity of weaponising Anima that they failed to see the true threat before us. Tell me, Decro, what is the worst thing that can happen in life?"

"Death?"

"Only yours?"

"I guess it would include my tribe."

"Anything else you can think of?"

The pair stood in silence, staring at each other.

"No," came the eventual reply.

"I send you to the deepest prison, right now. What then?"

"Like you did for 7 years?"

"For a lifetime now."

"My people will come for me."

"What if there's no hope of that?"

"I will have hope."

"For how long? Months? Years?"

"As long as it takes."

"Even if you were bound in an uncomfortable position?"

"Yes."

"And tortured you?"

"Do your worst."

"You will wait for your people?"

"Forever."

"Forever? You can't be waiting forever."

"I will."

Sephos paused.

"I see." He continued walking down the snake's body.

"Perhaps you will not see my point of view, but I will share it anyway. To me, I believed that there are things worse than death. Over the centuries, my ancestors have gathered knowledge of the world. Generation after generation, they paved the way for us. My generation will carry the torch and pass it on to the next. Our work remains long after our mortal forms are gone. This is our immortality. If our people are wiped out, so goes the knowledge. I cannot let that happen.

"So it had to be done. While our soldiers fought on the battlefield, I was researching ways to use Anima in war. Within months, I discovered how to call forth fire. With it, we could fight back. We could end the war."

"You could've stopped at defending yourselves, but you went all out and killed innocent people too. You're just like the rest. You want power."

"I have questioned myself many times, too. Is this a veiled attempt to achieve power? But I believe my intentions are pure. If the war were to go on, more people would die. Civilisations would be extinguished, and with them, their knowledge."

"If power isn't what you want, then why are we your slaves now?"

"All things happen in its time. It is part of the Master Plan."

"To the inferno with your Master Plan! Your plan is to rule the world, while the rest of us end up as slaves. Of course you'd be okay with it."

"Believe me, I struggled with the Plan. For nights I toiled looking for an alternate method. I'd devise a plan and divine its future, only to see it fall apart. This is the only one that holds water. And when I finally accepted it, I was met with opposition. Some people saw me as a visionary and savior, others saw me as a traitor and a disgrace. The king at that time fell into the latter group. I was exiled."

"So you killed him."

"I had no choice. People were dying; I could not sit back and watch. Months into my exile, with the help of my supporters, I stormed the palace and confronted the king. I gave him a choice: to work with me to carry out the Master Plan, or be incarcerated as a political prisoner. He was put in a prison cell for a day to consider the options. The next day, we found him dead. He had bitten himself with his fangs and died from poisoning. I was devastated."

"You will not earn my sympathy with your lies."

"I need not your sympathy. My words are truth. I mourned his death for three days. He was a good king."

"You killed him."

"There are worse things in life than death. His life for the life of my people."

"It's easy to say that when you're the one doing the killing. Can you say the same if your life is on the line?"

"I would."

"More lies."

"I would die a thousand times over for the greater good."

"So would I!"

"Would you?"

"Without hesitation."

"You have a noble heart."

Decro did not know why to reply. As his anger subsided, he realised his body was tense, hands poised as if ready to strike. Sephos' stood there calmly with his hands behind his back.

"May I continue?"

The wolf nodded.

"With all the obstacles out of the way, I set the Master Plan in motion. The Diviner Sect taught our soldiers to wield Anima as a weapon. We were ready to fight in the war."

"And then you defeated and enslaved the rest of us."

"It is so."

"You're not a good person."

"I do not claim to be."

"Then why this whole story about this Master Plan? My people are suffering because of your Master Plan. If you really care about the greater good, set us free now."

"I cannot do that. The Master Plan is still--"

"Then you're just like the other invaders. Power-hungry, vicious, heartless."

Sephos sighed. "You are justified in feeling that about me, you and your people. Even among the snakes, there are people who resent me for the things I have done. I agree, I've done despicable things for which I cannot forgive myself. It weighs on my conscience even today. The Diviner Sect has always made sacrifices for the good of our people, and I will do the same."

Sorrow filled his eyes as he gazed at the ground.

"We are almost at the crossroads. Shall we?"

With Sephos taking the lead, they followed the golden lines on the ground.

"You know of the war up to the point of your capture, so I shall fill in the gaps. We continued waging war on all the nations. Some gave themselves up peacefully, others fell to our power. Five years later, we completed our conquest of Trastria. It has been two years of peace since then."

Sephos stopped and waved his hand towards the ground. The white and black snakes had completed their winding paths through the floor patterns, their heads meeting in the middle of another golden diamond. Their eyes made of sapphires, making them almost come alive as they glared at each other.

"It's been a long journey for both you and I, but it is not the end. We are at the crossroads, and what we do today will determine the course of the rest of our lives and beyond. Now that we know the 'how', we can answer the 'why'."

Decro took a deep breath and exhaled. "So why am I here?"

"The peace today will not last forever. There is a world beyond Trastria, nations bigger than ours. They will one day cross the sea in vessels and realise our existence. Their invasion will be swift. This time of peace will last 22 more years. Then we will once again face a new War, one more devastating than the first."

"How do you know?"

"I've seen it in my visions, back when I was coming up with the Master Plan. The Master Plan doesn't end with the Terrible War. It is only the beginning."

"Where do I come in?"

"I will need a strategist to prepare us for the imminent war. He will train our soldiers, come up with a defence strategy, and lead us into battle. The War will end faster with the least loss of life."

"And you want me as your strategist?"

"You have proved your mettle in battle, both in your story and on the battlefield. I believe you are more than capable to fulfill this role."

"What's in it for me?"

"I will give you the title of 'Raxior', meaning 'unmatched warrior' in our ancient tongue. You will be more powerful than anyone on Trastria, save for me."

Silence hung between them.

Sephos raised a brow. "Is my offer not favourable? What else do you desire?"

"Let my people go free."

"I... cannot do that."

"Why not?"

"I'm sorry. I cannot tell you, but rest assured it's part of the Plan."

"Why should I help you then?"

"Is this not the greater good you said you'd die for?"

"My people are still slaves to you. I care not if your people are defeated."

"And if your tribe is eradicated in the process?"

"Then so be it. We'd rather die than be your slaves."

The snake shook his head. "I was afraid I'd come to this. Just as I extended mercy to my king, I will extend the same mercy to you, too. Your choices will be the same. You can join me, fulfilling your role in the Master Plan. We will save our people, and all will enjoy the fruits of the greater good."

"And if I refuse?"

"Then I will send you back to the cell from which you came."

"Why even ask me? If you can predict the future, you already know what I'll choose."

"Divination cannot foretell the actions of the individual. Only in large numbers do their actions become predictable."

"I will leave you to decide." Sephos strolled towards the centre of the balcony and gazed wistfully upon the city. "Beautiful, isn't it?"

Decro weighed the options. The Terrible War was bad enough, but Sephos had said this would be worse. This time, though, they would have 20 years to prepare, and the force of magic would be on their side. Things would be different. This was a second chance.

But there was no honour in this. Whatever position Sephos gave him, he would still be the snake's slave. His people would still be slaves.

"You will not set my people free?"

The snake solemnly turned to him. "I understand your concern, but I'm afraid this is a request I cannot grant."

"Even if I pledge my loyalty to you?"

"No."

"Nothing?"

"Nothing. These are your two choices. I will offer no more." He turned back towards the city.

Decro gritted his teeth. He couldn't be a commander in good faith, especially when he would answer to the person who was keeping his people enslaved. They would consider him a traitor and disgrace. He'd rather be a prisoner; his men could eventually break him out, improbable as that was. If that didn't pan out, at least he would be remembered as a hero by his people.

The wolf closed his eyes and scrunched his face. It was likely he would face the cell floor for the rest of his life, bound by spells to ensure he would never move again. Even killing himself would be impossible then. If he wanted to die, he would have to kill himself now.

This was his third choice. A quick slit of his throat would be enough. His fingers felt for the hidden dagger tucked into his waistband. As his fingers grasped the unyielding metal, the weight of his decision sank in. So this was it. Of all the enemies he had faced before, he would die by his own hand.

"It seems you need more time to make up your mind," Sephos said, still facing the cityscape.

All because of that cursed snake.

"I will send you back to your cell. Perhaps my presence is stifling your thoughts."

If anyone in this room deserved to die, it was him.

"This is not an easy decision."

The wolf could kill him now. If he was going to die, he could bring the snake down with him. A life for a life.

"You spoke earlier of sacrificing yourself for the greater good."

Sephos' guards would catch him, probably kill him on the spot. But there were traitors amongst his people, snakes that didn't agree with his plan.

"I have faith in the nobility of your heart."

Perhaps he could convince them to follow him instead. He could be the new king of Trastria.

Decro stepped forward, spear in hand.

"I believe you will make the right choice."

He would handle the war when it comes in 20 years.

His swift but silent footsteps brought him behind the snake, within reach of his spear. Gripping the shaft tightly with both hands, he aimed the tip of the spear in the middle of the snake's back.

"We will meet again tomorrow. For now--" Sephos turned around.

Decro struck. A flash of blue was accompanied by a harsh grating sound, and the wolf winced. When he opened his eyes, the spear had penetrated a now-visible barrier between him and the snake. The translucent wall was almost as thick as the head of his spear, glowing blue as its surface was disturbed. The spear was stuck fast in the crack it had made in the barrier.

Sephos glowered at him, his eyes expressing a fury that was jarring on his previously calm face.

"Attacking a man while his back is turned, have you no honour?"

The barrier shattered violently, throwing Decro back. He sailed through the air before skidding across the smooth stone ground. His spear clattered beside him.

"It seems a peaceful agreement is impossible between us. It seems you are bent on settling this with fighting." His left hand glowed red, before a flame burst forth and engulfed his hand. "I shall end this here."

He swung his hand, launching the fireball at Decro. The wolf grabbed his spear and dashed to the side. A whirlwind of fire erupted from the point of impact, threatening to consume him should he have been a second slower. There was another whoosh. He ducked as the fireball surged over his head. There was the smell of singed fur; that was too close for comfort. The hanging chimes rang out in alarm.

As he dodged fireball after fireball, he considered his plan of attack. The nature of the snake's strikes should reveal an opening. Fireballs required throwing space. With their wide area of impact, Sephos couldn't hit too close. That would be his weakness.

The wolf feigned left before strafing to his right. A wall of flames flared up behind him, but Sephos had already prepared his next attack. He ignited five fireballs and hurled them in quick succession at the wolf.

Decro's fighting instincts were quickly returning. With his keen eye, he anticipated where each projectile would land and nimbly evaded them. Raging fires swirled around him, reaching out for him with their convulsing tendrils. The immense heat made him perspire, but there was no time to wipe away his sweat. He was fighting for his life.

Sephos' relentless barrage did not let up. He swung his hand, raising hostile walls of flame around him. Ribbons of fire circled around him like vicious snakes guarding their nest.

Decro was not deterred. Still facing the snake, he strode across the rocks in the middle of the room, dodging fireballs left and right. His movements were agile and graceful, as if he were choreographing a deadly dance through fire. He sidestepped the blazing walls, jumping through gaps in the flames. The fire rose around him, obscuring his vision. Despite all that, he advanced towards the balcony. The flames evaporated, leaving behind an unobstructed view of the city.

Where was Sephos?

The snarling face of the serpent appeared behind him. The snake unleashed another volley of fireballs at Decro, each one forcing the wolf to take another step back towards the edge of the balcony. His calf hit the short curb and he reactively turned around. Behind him was a drop to the stone-paved foyer of the Fortress grounds. Decro inhaled sharply and turned back to the snake. Sephos ignited five fireballs and hurled them in quick succession at the wolf.

Decro dodged the first, then the second. The flames boxed him in, giving him nowhere to run as the third fireball headed for him. He was stuck. Desperate, he raised his spear and swung it through the fireball as it came close. It was enough to disrupt the air currents, dispersing the inferno in all directions. The dissipating flames engulfed him in light and warmth before going out, leaving him unharmed. The wolf was surprised, but he had to focus. He used his spear to dispel the other two fireballs.

He was not dying here.

With swift strides, he closed the gap between them.

Sephos was forced back, throwing fireballs at the wolf to impede his progress, but it was futile. The warrior was determined to get to him. He turned and dashed across the rocks in a flurry of robes, making his way to the platform in the centre of the room. Once in the middle, he cupped his hands together. Fire streamed from his hands like a burning river, spreading across the pit like a flood. The smaller rocks were submerged beneath the flaring river, leaving only the large rocks exposed.

The ribbons of fire surged around him and he channeled them in a focused stream. It shot out like a beam towards the wolf, who dived to the side. The fire spun like a tornado, drilling its way out into the open sky before dissipating into a wave of searing air.

Still on the ground, Decro was horrified. Sephos' powers were way greater than that of the soldiers who he had seen on the battlefield. But it was too late to regret his decision. Another flurry of fireballs rushed towards him, forcing him to get up and run.

Fireball.

Fireball.

The ground was like hot coals beneath his feet. The inlaid gold had melted, sticking to his soles and burning him as he ran, but he had to endure the agony.

Another beam of fire hit the wall in front of him before advancing on him. Sephos was channeling the flames in his direction. Decro turned and ran until the deadly column subsided. He would die if this kept up. There was only one way forward: he had to kill Sephos.

As he dashed around the room, Decro scanned the fiery pool and planned his route. In front of the double doors was an outcrop of rocks that he could stand safely on. From there, he could traverse the rocks, leaping across vast gaps until he reached Sephos. Some of the jumps would be tight and unforgiving, and falling into the fire would result in an agonising death. But he had to do this. He had to kill Sephos for his people.

The wolf circled the room until he came to the doors. As he leapt towards the nearest rock, he saw an enormous fireball charge towards him. Time slowed for him as he watched the ferocious flames get closer. There was no way to change his trajectory; he was already in the air. He closed his eyes and twisted his body, feeling the scorching heat rush past him.

By some miracle, he survived, landing on his back. Behind him, the flames hit the doors and exploded in a deafening roar. The magic seals kept the doors intact as the hungry flames engulfed it.

From the other side of the door came panicked knocks.

"Great Leader? Is everything okay?"

Decro got up. The rock wasn't big enough to give him a running start this time, so he gathered his strength and jumped to another rock. He sailed through the sweltering air and landed safely. As he dived for the next rock, a fireball hit the previous one. It exploded in a shower of debris, pelting his back with gravel. Another beam of fire swept across the room and he ducked below it.

"Great Leader! We're coming in!" The "zoong" of the unravelling seals could be heard as the guards dispelled the protective Anima.

Decro continued, each rock getting him closer and closer to the serpent. Sephos was focused on the wolf, bombarding his target with pure, fiery rage. The strips of fabric hanging from the ceiling had caught fire, flapping around in a storm of glowing ashes. Frenzied ringing of the wind chimes competed with the sounds of roaring fire, filling the room with its chaotic cacophony.

Just a few more rocks. Four.

Three.

Two.

An explosive fireball decimated the last rock before Decro could jump to it. He turned around to take an alternative route, but Sephos was ahead of him. Another well-aimed fireball destroyed the other rock, leaving the warrior stranded on his precarious perch. Trying to keep his cool, the wolf looked around frantically. All the rocks around him were gone, leaving him with neither a way forward nor back. Merely 7 strides away stood the serpent. The wolf could reach him in a heartbeat, if not for the basin of fire between them.

Their eyes met. Decro sneered. Sephos watched him calmly.

"You have nowhere to go. Give up this fruitless endeavour."

"Never! I will free my people, even if I have to kill you."

"Your determination has turned to obstinance. Your righteous fury has blinded you to the truth. I implore you, open your eyes and see reason."

Sephos' face was wrought with concern. Decro glared fiercely back with his spear pointed forward.

"I will ask one last time. Will you play your part in the Plan?"

"I will not," the wolf snarled his refusal.

The serpent sighed. "Very well." Fire swirled into existence in his hand. "As you sow, so shall you reap. Our meeting at the crossroad ends with this."

He raised his hands and pointed his palms towards the warrior.

"Farewell, Decro."

The fire surged from his hands towards the wolf. Decro leapt. His feet left the safety of the rock and he sailed over the fiery lake. The fireball surged below him, narrowly burning him alive. But it only delayed the inevitable. The gap between him and the snake was too wide to jump, and he was going to fall into the deadly inferno. Still, Decro had faith in his plan. Looking up from the flames, he aimed his spear at Sephos.

The fireball hit its mark. The rock shattered in a powerful explosion. Decro was propelled by the violent force, thrusting him towards Sephos with incredible speed. The serpent had a fraction of a second to react before the pointed end of the spear would pierce into his chest. There was no time to cast a fireball. There was nowhere to run.

Sephos swiftly stepped forward as Decro hurled the spear. The snake reached his hands out and pushed his palms against the spear's shaft, just behind the blade. He guided the spear harmlessly past him and into the burning flames. The wolf landed on the platform and lunged for him, but without his spear, he was--

The serpent gasped and his eyes widened in shock. He looked down at his chest, where the blade of a dagger was plunged into his chest. Disbelief contorted his face as he looked at Decro.

Behind him, the doors burst open.

"Great Leader--" The guards rushed in, horrified by the hellscape before them.

The world was pulled away like a flimsy cloth, accompanied by the sound of rushing wind. Everything was dark for a moment before reality snapped back. Decro stumbled about. It felt like a rock had hit him in the head. What was going on?

Metallic "shings" could be heard as iron cuffs flew towards him. Two of them snapped around his wrists, and the other two grabbed his ankles. Attached to them were chains: the ones around his wrists emerged from dark circles in the ceiling, and the ones around his ankles came from similar circles on the ground. They retracted, pulling his limbs outwards and suspending him spreadeagle in the air. Panicking, Decro tugged against the chains but they held fast.

As his vision cleared, he could see that he was in a dimly lit chamber, just slightly smaller than the throne room. Just like the other rooms in the Fortress, its walls and floor were made of smooth stone and decorated with intricate gold designs. Wooden shelves lined the walls, empty save for a few dusty scrolls. However, something felt wrong. The air was stale and oppressive, as if life had left this place a long time ago. It made it difficult to breathe.

"W-what's going on?"

His eyes caught movement on one side of the room. Sephos was lying on the ground, using a table beside him as support as he pulled himself off the ground. Leaning unsteadily against the table, he clutched the handle in his chest. With his other hand, he carefully removed his robes around his chest so he could access the damage. Letting out a laboured groan, he pulled the dagger out. Blood spilled down his chest before a green orb of light stemmed the flow.

The serpent closed his eyes and composed himself. When he opened his eyes again, his expression was one of acceptance and resolution. He limped towards the bound wolf.

"This used to be my private study. It is here that I divined the events that were to befall us. It is here I grappled with the morality of what must be done. It is here I created the Plan."

He looked around him. The Anima in the room had faded, leaving behind a feeble glimmer where there once was abundant light.

"I moved everything to the Diviner's Atheneum when I rose to lead my people. Who would've thought I'd be here again."

He sighed.

"I don't have much time left."

Good.

"But the Plan will still go on. Once I'm gone, there will be a power vacuum to be filled, and I cannot let you interfere with its course. You will remain here for the rest of your days."

"I will wait. My people will come for me."

"This chamber is sealed with Anima, shaped by my own hands. It shrouds everything with the fabric of reality, making it impossible for one to discover if one were not aware of its existence. Nobody will find you. I will take the secret of this place to my death."

"No! That's impossible! Y-you're lying!" Decro rattled the chains.

"You doubt the existence of a fate worse than death, so I will show it to you. Think of it as a parting gift of sorts."

He waved his hand. Decro felt a sharp gust of wind swipe by him as the straps of his battle armour were sliced cleanly through. His leather guards fell to the floor with soft thuds, and his skull pauldron cracked as it hit the ground. An uneasy sensation gripped him. He was in the presence of an enemy without his armour, a scenario that he had associated with being attacked by village raiders at night. It was the irrational feeling of vulnerability he couldn't shake.

Sephos sighed. "My work here is done. It's been a long fight."

He examined the restrained wolf. Slowly, his frown turned into a smirk.

"I might as well indulge myself."

He walked up to the wolf's bound form. The chains suspended the prisoner in the air, levelling the canine's waist with his head. He slid his hand beneath the wolf's loincloth and caressed the trunks beneath.

"Get your hands off me," Decro growled.

"I returned you your armour. I greeted you as equals. I presented my story and offered you a part in it."

The wolf struggled, rattling the chains.

"You refuse my mercy. You attack me while my back was turned. You stab me in the heart. And... you rob my people of a leader."

With a flick of his left hand, the wolf's loincloth fell to the ground in shreds. The bound lupine's manhood formed a sizable bulge, encased by the trunks he wore. Squeezing his fingers, Sephos kneaded the bulge with gentle but firm gropes.

"Stop!"

"You are no longer in a place to make demands. You had your chance and you threw it away." Sephos squeezed harder, grabbing the bulge and lightly tugging it. "Silence, or I will make it worse for you."

The wolf sneered but made no further protests. The snake continued to play with his sensitive member, paying no heed to the wolf's distaste. He slid his fingers down the length of Decro's underwear-clad cock, circling around to the back of the canine's orbs where he massaged them.

The canine clenched his jaw, doing his best to suppress his involuntary impulses to react. His heart was beating in his chest and his mind was racing with thoughts. He was angry at Sephos for this humiliating treatment, but he could not deny that the serpent's caresses were stirring his arousal. The chains clinked as Decro trembled. If he were to get an erection in front of his worst enemy, the humiliation would be too great to bear. Clenching his teeth, he strained to quell his rising libido.

He'd endure this. So long as the snake didn't take it any further--

Sephos swiped his free hand and the wolf's trunks were shredded, leaving his semi-erect manhood exposed to the stale air of the chamber.

"Argh!" the wolf screamed. "By Hetmir, I'll stir your tomb's ashes!"

"It seems you need help keeping quiet." Sephos smirked.

Black mist gathered in his hand, swirling around until it solidified into a black orb the size of his palm. Its surface was smooth and shiny beneath the dim glow of residual Anima. Two leather straps hung from each side.

"What's that?" The wolf eyed the object suspiciously.

"It's a gag. We use it to keep unruly slaves quiet." Sephos smirked. "I'll show you how it works."

"No. Don't you dare." If Sephos used it on him, he doubted it'd be coming off.

The ball gag floated into the air, moving closer to the wolf's head. Decro opened his mouth to protest but hastily snapped it shut with a snarl. He still wasn't sure how it worked, but he had a strong suspicion. The object reminded him of a bridle that his people used on feral horses. So long as he kept his mouth shut, the gag could not be inserted. He shot a cruel glare at Sephos. The audacity of the snake to use such a humiliating object on him!

As the ball approached his muzzle, he twisted his head away in defiance. He wasn't going to let the serpent do this to him. The ball followed, forcing itself against his lips as it tried to wedge itself in his maw. Decro clenched his teeth, giving the gag no chance to enter. Sephos could not do this forever. Who did he think he was, anyway? The snake hadn't earned his respect and yet made demands of him. After Decro refused, he was now trying to humiliate him like this. The warrior wouldn't give in.

A stinging sensation seized his bare nipples and he gasped in surprise. It felt like his nipples were being squeezed and teased, sending flashes of erotic pleasure through his body. The intensity flared up, turning the intoxicating bliss into agonising pain. His vision blanked out and he could hear his screams fill his ears before being muffled as something was thrust into his mouth.

As the pain subsided, he realised he could not close his mouth. The ball gag was lodged firmly behind his teeth, pressed into his maw where it could go no further. Its smooth surface was cold and hard, pressing against the top of his mouth and the back of his tongue. Decro tested the gag with his jaws, but its hard surface was unyielding to his palate and tongue. It was impossible to close his mouth any further. To add to his frustration, the gag was keeping his jaws pried open to its limits. His tongue was painfully pressed against the floor of his mouth. The two straps were pulled behind his head where they were fastened, securing the ball in place.

"Ghrnr!" Decro protested violently.

He struggled in his chains and twisted his head about, trying to dislodge the ball, but it was all in vain. No matter how much he clenched his jaws around the gag or pushed with his tongue, he could not get it out of his mouth. His breaths were shallow and agitated as his bare, muscular body thrashed about.

The futility of his efforts sank in and he slumped in his chains. His gaze fell on the snake. Sephos was watching him smugly and Decro growled back. Despite being at the mercy of the serpent, he was far from defeated. Sephos was mortally wounded, and it was only a matter of time before he succumbed to his injuries. Decro would have the last laugh. In the meantime, he'd have to foil the snake's efforts to bind him.

He watched as the snake summoned another object out of black mist. It was a cylindrical object made of a black material that glistened beneath the faded light. Its tip tapered into a rounded cap, widening to a shaft that was as thick as the warrior's fist. From there, it narrowed into a pole the width of a spear shaft, before spreading to form a circular base. He didn't know what it was, but he was sure Sephos had prepared that for him.

Sure enough, the snake walked behind him with the new object. Decro felt Sephos' hand on his bare butt-cheeks and he instinctively clenched his glutes, letting out a threatening growl.

"This will break you."

What was Sephos doing?

He got his answer as something cold and hard pressed against the crack of his rear.

"Mgnrh!" he yelled and thrashed about.

The chains, however, showed no mercy. They held him spreadeagle, leaving him vulnerable to Sephos' intentions. Despite his best efforts to evade the probing dildo, its cool surface was firmly slid into his crack. The snake adjusted it up and down until its rounded tip found its place against the wolf's pucker.

Decro let out a muffled roar as he renewed his futile efforts in breaking free. His face was contorted in an expression of shock and anger. There was no way he'd let his rear be defiled like that. He clenched his muscular passage to keep the intruder from entering, but its smooth surface slid effortlessly against his skin. Sephos gave it a firm thrust, spreading open the wolf's clenched muscles.

The warrior winced, letting out a whimper before he could stop himself. While a few male members of his tribe delighted in anal pleasures from time to time, Decro had no interest in indulgences of that sort. This was the first time something foreign entered his recesses. Unlike the sexual encounters of his sexually deviant tribe members, this interaction was neither intimate nor romantic. The snake was violating his physical boundaries with no remorse, forcing the dildo deeper into his tunnel.

His huffs were rapid as he endured the burning sensation he was feeling inside. It felt like his inner walls were on fire as it was stretched beyond its natural limits. It was thrust further and further into him, spreading him open with its unrelenting girth. Surely it was buried as deep as it could go. The wolf could take no more of it.

"It's halfway in," Sephos said.

Only halfway?!

Decro let out a frustrated huff and shifted his hips. No matter how he adjusted himself, the dildo did not feel comfortable inside him. He felt a burning pain as Sephos pushed the toy deeper. His frantic growls filled the room, interrupted by sharp breaths as he tried to endure each thrust of the dildo. There was no way it was going to fit! Decro was sure it'd tear through him and injure his insides. He clenched his tunnel, but his muscles could not get a grip on the dildo's even surface. His flesh pressed against the solid cylinder, now warm from his body heat.

He would not beg. His warrior's pride would not allow him to grovel for mercy from a dying enemy. But the pain and humiliation were more than what he had ever faced before. Battle wounds and interrogation tortures were nothing compared to this. This was a violation of his body's most private places, threatening to destroy his innermost flesh like vultures to a carcass.

As Decro tensed his rear muscles, his pucker could feel the cylinder get narrower. He was reaching the end of the anal plug. If he could just take a bit more, it'll be over soon. Without thinking, he instinctively clenched his tailhole. His anal ring gripped the tapering neck of the toy, pulling it further into him with alarming speed. The physical shock sent flashes of white through his vision. His rear muscles were screaming for relief as primal instincts took over and he thrashed in his restraints. Agonised roars turned into laboured whimpers as the wolf gradually recovered from the ordeal.

"You took the last bit in so eagerly," Sephos said.

Decro could hear the smirk in the snake's voice, but he was too exhausted to retort. The dildo had filled him out immensely, prying open his inner tunnel to fit its girthy shaft. He could feel its rounded tip in his lower abdomen, compressing his guts against the rest of his body. The plug felt foreign and abhorrent inside him, clouding his mind with a vile fog. It was hard to focus on anything else.

His body, too, was pushed to its limits. His arms ached from supporting his body weight. His wrists were clamped tightly by the cuffs, restricting the blood flow to his hands. His stretched tailhole was throbbing from the strain of stretching. The exertion left his body feeling like it was burning, and his fur was getting soaked in sweat. Both the physical and mental strain fueled the warrior's anger, and he thrashed within the limits of his chains.

"Nhghrh! Lmfth mh grh!"

"Silence!"

The stinging sensations assaulted the wolf's nipples again, this time with increased intensity. Decro grew more agitated with his protests, only to be greeted by the sight of black leather. It was in the shape of a small pouch with a hole in it. Three straps hung from its sides, reaching for him.

There was no time to react. The leather object shot towards him, thrusting his snout into its narrow pouch. Decro felt a burst of pain as the leather squeezed his jaws shut around the ball gag. In his moment of shock, the other straps wrapped around his head. Two of them hugged his cheeks as they met behind his nape, and the last one went over his head. Bands around the exterior of the pouch tightened, further constricting his jaws.

"Mnfh!"

The hole in the pouch sat over his nostrils, allowing him to breathe. His furious snorts came out as muffled huffs. He shook his head fiercely, but it was already too late. The newly fitted muzzle was secured around his head. Rage boiled within him. The snake was muzzling him like a feral beast! If he got free...

Decro heard the unmistakable sound of a spell, and the dildo in his rump came to life. Pulsing vibrations pressed against every inch of the wolf's inner tunnel, pleasuring him in erogenous zones he never knew existed. Through muffled noises, he cursed and swore every profanity he had in his vocabulary.

The snake circled to the front, pleased with the results. Despite the Anima-bound stab wound in his chest, he still had enough life in him to inflict more humiliation on the warrior. The wolf continued resisting, but his maleness was betraying him. The hefty rod was rising to the occasion, standing rock-hard in front of the serpent.

Sephos took that as an invitation, grasping the throbbing shaft in his palm and grasped it firmly. The warrior turned his head away to hide his embarrassment. His only solace was that the muzzle was hiding the shame written all over his face. The snake squeezed his fingers around the base of the wolf's dick, tugging gently as he slid his hand up to the tip where a bead of clear pre escaped the slit. With his thumb, the serpent smeared the natural lubricant over the glans, polishing it with a sturdy grip.

The wolf tried to pull away, but no matter how he twisted, the chains would swing him back into Sephos' reach. The snake used his other hand to cup Decro's ample balls, fondling the furry orbs with his dexterous fingers. Each pinch, clutch, and grasp was accompanied by sensations of pain that gave way to immense pleasure.

Decro gasped and whimpered. Was this really happening? Never had he imagined that he'd be bound in front of the person who had captured him, then teased relentlessly. Yet here he was, with Sephos milking him with zealously stimulating strokes. The pulses on his nipples had subsided into mild throbs, kneading his sensitive flesh with the finesse of skillful fingers. His rear was overwhelmed by the dildo's vibrations, which had escalated into a rhythm of potent bursts that shuddered through his being.

Gah!

The wolf's raging libido was uncontrollable. The last thing he wanted was to shoot his load in front of the snake. Orgasms were only appropriate for the most secret and intimate of circumstances, not times of peril and defilement.

"You're close, I can feel it," Sephos taunted. "Cum for me, dog."

"Mnghdsh!" He clenched his pelvic muscles and fought back.

Sephos strived harder, milking the warrior for all he was worth. The wolf fought back, braving through the humiliating carnality of it all. He would reserve his white seed for a special partner who deserved it, not some cruel, conniving snake.

"Holding on to your essence, aren't you?" The snake smirked. "It's been years since you've had any form of release. Just give in."

In any other situation, Decro would have fared better, but his long imprisonment had left his needs unmet. It hadn't been a problem; other concerns had overshadowed his need for sexual satiation. But with his throbbing erection standing in front of him now, his libido-fueled urges were fighting for control. He closed his eyes, trying to block out the stimulation and quell the flood of arousal.

But he was slipping. Every pump of his eager cock was devastatingly effective, wrenching his self-control out of his grasp. His reproductive instincts drove him to buck his hips and tense his pelvic muscles. Each time he clenched his dick, he was almost certain his natural broth was going to spew out of his vent. This was a losing battle.

"If you don't want to cum, I am willing to accommodate. So tell me, do you want me to stop?"

With his eyes still closed, Decro nodded.

"Then I want you to beg for it."

The wolf shook his head. The snake clutched the two orbs and gave the wolf's rod a few more hard pumps, and the canine squirmed.

"Beg!"

Decro stayed silent, torn between the two choices. He didn't want to submit to the snake, but at the same time, the sanctity of his orgasms had to be safeguarded. A few more strokes of his manhood was enough to help him make up his mind.

"Mngh!" he groaned reluctantly.

"Say, 'Please don't let me cum, Master.'"

The wolf hesitated before finally conceding. "Plnfh dnn lnhft mahh crmh..."

"That's not begging. Say it like you mean it."

"Plnfh dnn lnhft mahh crmh!"

"Louder, and with the word 'Master'."

"Plnfh dnn lnhft mahh crmh!" the wolf howled at the top of his lungs, still refusing to acknowledge the last word.

Sephos examined the trembling form of the wolf, weary of every sensation in his intimates. Decro's eyes were closed in concentration, and his fists were clenched.

"Fine," the snake finally said. "As you wish." He let go of the wolf's maleness.

The warrior heaved a sigh of relief. He wasn't happy about ceding to Sephos, but it was far less degrading than cumming in front of him. He gently opened his eyes. The snake had magically procured another strange device, this time one made of polished metal. Much like the muzzle, it consisted of a metal "cup" with three protruding strips. The cup was made of flat pieces of metal, joining at sharp angles to form its central cavity. Curved, flexible metal formed the protruding strips.

"Hfnt!"

Sephos pressed the wolf's manhood down, nestling it between his jewels. The snake pushed the device against the canine's crotch, encasing his maleness within. It was a snug fit, compressing flesh against flesh within its unyielding enclosure. The metal strips moved on their own, wrapping themselves around Decro's hips, snapping together behind him.

The snake went around the back to address the third strip that hung from the bottom of the device. Unlike the other two strips, this one wasn't of even width. It started out thin like the other strips, widening to form a flat sheet. The snake directed this metal piece between the wolf's legs and pulled it upwards. Its narrow portion hugged Decro's taint, and its wider portion pressed against the base of the anal plug. That wider portion pressed against the base of the anal plug, pushing the dildo deeper into the canine's tailhole.

Decro struggled. He was hoping he could expel the vibrating intruder from his rear once Sephos was gone, but if the snake secured this device around him, he was powerless to displace it. If he wanted it out, he needed to do it now. He clenched hard, tensing his inner muscles around the obstinate cylinder within him.

"Ghrn!"

He couldn't do it. No matter how hard he tried, the toy's even girth made it impossible to push the plug out. His pucker could only grip and release the narrow neck of the dildo, grinding it against his prostate. In the meantime, Sephos pulled the metal piece of the device up, burying the anal plug in the wolf's flesh. The wolf's tail was slotted into a notch in the strip, but the rest of its wide edge was pressed against the two metal strips around his waist. There was a burst of heat and the metal bits were welded together, forming a solid piece.

"There, the chastity belt is now a part of you. Your manhood is forfeit."

Decro snarled, but the confidence was drained from his tone. His stamina had been eroded past the point of endurance, leaving him vulnerable to feelings of terror and despair. This could not be happening. It must all be a hallucination, a dream that his mind had concocted in his bleak isolation. Once he woke up, he'd be back in his prison cell, still bound in his kneeling pose. This would all be over. Just a distant memory, a fleeting vision. Right?

Right?

A strong pulse of the anal plug reminded him that this was the undeniable reality. It continued to stimulate him, coaxing his dick to erection. This time, there was nowhere for his member to go. Everything was encased in the inescapable prison locked around his crotch, trapped in the tight confines of the metal bulge.

Sephos clutched his chest. The green orb around the wound had grown faint. Blood was seeping into it, tainting the orb with its crimson hues. He recast the spell and it glowed brightly once more.

"The Plan..." He drew in a laboured breath. "The Plan will continue, without you to hinder it."

The chains clinked feebly. The weary warrior was sapped of his strength. His resistance had proved utterly futile. But there was still hope. The serpent was dying, and all the wolf had to do was endure it till then.

Sephos gathered his strength, and more black mist swirled around him. The mist twisted in spirals, materialising into a shiny fluid. The snake stretched out his hands and the streams of liquid shot towards Decro. They hit the wolf's body forcefully, bursting across his body in black splatters. Not stopping there, the warm liquid spread outwards, coating the wolf's white fur with its black, shiny sheen.

"It's 'latex'," the snake said. "It will be your new skin."

Decro watched helplessly as the living latex consumed him. It rapidly spread over him; his chest, his thighs, his arms, his tail. The fluid saturated his fluffy fur, causing it to clump and flatten against his body. Liquid tendrils seeped beneath the cuffs around his wrists and ankles, coating the skin beneath the metal. The spread of liquid latex slowed as it rose up his chest. Sephos was shaping it around his body, moulding and squeezing it against the curves of his muscular form. Decro felt as if his body was being massaged by invisible hands, kneading his firm flesh with its warmth.

The momentary pleasure gave way to constricting tightness as the liquid cooled. The latex was solidifying, causing it to shrink around Decro's body. Its surface was stretched taut, forming a smooth, shiny layer over his sculpted form. It gripped his muscles tightly, accentuating every last curve and crevice of his body. The inorganic angles of the chastity belt were also visible through the latex suit, emphasising his emasculation.

Decro whimpered. The latex around his chest was still spreading up his neck, threatening to engulf his head. His eyes darted around the room. The gravity of the situation was sinking in. He was inescapably restrained in a chamber that was sealed away with magic. The only person who knew his whereabouts was about to die. He would be trapped in this dimly lit room until he was found... or until he died. Perhaps dying from thirst would be his escape from this torture.

The latex spread up his neck and across his muzzle. The back of his head was quickly coated in the liquid, followed by his ears. Chilling trepidation gripped his heart. Sephos was encasing him in layer after layer of bondage until every last trace of him was sealed away for good. The wolf caught a glimpse of a collar floating towards his neck, just before the latex spread across his face, covering his features beneath a blank facade, save for the concealed airhole over his nose. In the darkness, he could feel the collar being buckled around his neck, but that was the least of his worries.

His mouth was aching being spread this wide for such a prolonged period. The muscles were overextended, struggling to pull back into a relaxed position, only to clamp his jaws painfully around the unforgiving ball gag.

His nipples were sore from the constant stimulation. What used to be blissful pleasure was turning into mindless arousal. The mortal body could only take so much carnal gratification before it all turned into delirious cravings. His sensitive flesh could take no more.

His rear muscles were strained from the stretching, and were screaming for relief that would never come, not while the toy was hilted deep inside him. But Decro was no longer in control. Attempting to return to its original size, his tunnel clenched fully. It squeezed around the immense plug, causing painful cramps inside him.

This was agony beyond agony. Yet there was still more. Decro felt something press against the back of his body. It had the cold, unyielding quality of metal. It even clinked as it hit the cuffs. But it was perfectly shaped around his body. The back of his arms, his shoulder blades, his spine. His rump, his thighs, his tail. Everything fitted nicely into the contours of the metal shell.

"Before I finish sealing you away, I leave you with one last gift."

Decro listened fearfully.

"You will not die here. The Anima here will keep you alive. Forever."

What?!

"This place will be your dwelling for the rest of eternity. This, I promise you."

There was a gurgle in the serpent's voice, as if he was trying to speak underwater, but the wolf was too distraught to notice. This could not be possible. There was no way he could live forever. Then again, the snake had demonstrated powers before his comprehension. Decro screamed and thrashed, but the metal encasement against his back gave him no leeway to move. He pleaded for mercy. He begged for death.

"Kill me! Kill me now!"

But his words were unintelligible beneath the layers. Still, his desperation drove him to try. Warrior's pride be damned. He'd surrender. He'd submit to the serpents. He'd serve every last one of them as a lowly slave, if only he were freed from this predicament. Faced with an eternity in this immovable prison, anything else was better.

Anything.

The air went still around Decro, and he knew that the second half of the metal encasement was being positioned in front of him. Sephos was sealing him away for ages beyond. There was a clang as metal met metal, then heat as the halves were welded together.

Breathing was hard in the tight enclosure. The wolf's warm breaths filled his metal encasement, suffocating him with its humidity. His cold sweat stuck to his body, trapped beneath his permanent latex skin.

Scared. In all his years of fighting, this was the first time he was truly feeling scared. His panicked breaths were frantic and shallow. There was no way out. He could hear Sephos' voice, muffled by the thick layer of metal between them.

"How does this feel, coming face to face with the impending eternity of your predicament?"

Decro whimpered in response. His solid metal form was still suspended in the air, trembling in its chains. There was the sound of many sharp "shings" and the wolf's prison shuddered violently. More chains had come out of nowhere, wrapping around the encased canine before they were pulled taut. Movement was no longer possible. No matter how much he tried to struggle, the chains held fast. He groaned. The stimulation had no concern for his suffering, continuing to tease him unrelentingly.

The snake coughed. There was the sound of liquid hitting stone. Was that blood?

"My...my time is up." Sephos' breaths were strained.

The wolf heard the sound of spilling blood, the sound of rushing wind, then there was silence. Sephos had teleported somewhere else for his final moments, leaving Decro behind in the stillness. The wolf gathered himself. The serpent was dead. That meant he had won, right? But what's next?

The stimulation continued, wracking waves of pain and pleasure through him. He was at the end of his tether. There was nothing left in him that could hold back the inevitable. Gasping through his aching jaws, he let out a fitful moan as he finally orgasmed for the first time in years. He shot rope after rope of warm spunk from his dick, relieving his balls of their burden.

Trapped in the chastity device, the thick fluid had nowhere else to go. Decro's manhood was left soaking in his own male essence. The surrounding air was steamy, dampened by the vapours of his bodily fluids. Even with no one to see him like this, shame and humiliation welled up within him.

But it wasn't over. It would never be over. Vibrating dildo and teased nipples continued stirring his lustful fires, turning his own body into his enemy. Time passed. The wolf was forced into a second orgasm, a third, a fourth, and so on; until even his libido was acclimatised into this new threshold of arousal.

After some time, he gathered his thoughts. For the first time, he could take in the full hopelessness of his situation. Was this what Sephos was referring to when he said "a fate worse than death"? Thoughts and emotions reverberated through his mind, buzzing like a swarm of angry bees in his head. There was fear of an eternity of suffering. There was despair and hopelessness at his inescapable situation. There was sadness as he thought about his tribespeople that he was forced to leave behind.

And there was regret, the harsh bitterness of regret. His mind wandered back to his meeting with Sephos. The scene played out in his mind. The meeting. Their story. Sephos' proposal. Decro's refusal.

Maybe if he went for Sephos' neck, the serpent would die on the spot, unable to trap him in this imprisonment. Maybe if he had negotiated better, he could forge a better life for his people. Maybe if he submitted to the snake's Plan, he would live a life of dishonour in the eyes of his people, but it wouldn't be a life of endless torment.

The scene played out in his mind over and over. The snake. The stories. The refusal. The battle. The fire. Again and again, in an endless cycle of dismal rumination. But in the darkness, there was nothing left to ground him in reality. The imagery in his mind became his universe, plunging him through his memories in turn. He found himself in front of Sephos with the choice to join the Plan or be imprisoned once more. Then he was back in the prison cell, stuck in his kneeling position. Then he was back in the river, chasing Ryder as they splashed in the water.

Each time he was in front of Sephos, he'd try something new. Sometimes he'd slash the snake's neck, cutting him dead on the spot. Sometimes he'd agree to help out with the Plan, joining the highest ranks of the Cobra Nation. Sometimes he'd talk reason into Sephos, convincing him to let his people go. The outcome would be different, and reality changed for the better. Then a strong pulse in his rear tunnel would wrench him back into the darkness of his metal prison, leaving him disoriented and confused.

In the depths of his mind, he faced Sephos again and again, fighting over something, some sort of big plan. Were they friends before? No, that was Ryder, right? Then who was Sephos?

A surge of pulses spread from his nipples and his rear, engulfing his body in a mixture of sensations. Was it pain or pleasure? Was there even a difference between the two? And the stimulation led to arousal, and arousal led to a constricting feeling at his crotch. The words "chastity belt" came to mind in Sephos' voice. Sephos. Sephos must've had something to do with these sensations. Was he a romantic partner then? It was all a confusing blur.

He no longer had any idea of how long he was here. Decades? Weeks? Years? Hours?

Was time even real?

And... who was he?

There was some notion of a "past reality". An existence where he was a wolf. A reality where things happened only once, and then were permanently irreversible. Decisions were final. The broken could not be mended. But... that could not be right. His reality was one that could be changed. The scenes he experienced could be revisited and revised. Nothing was set in stone.

So if this past reality could not be right, then his identity as a wolf might not be real too. Perhaps, just like the world around him, he, too, was a transient entity that had no concrete form. Even the sensations he was experiencing were transient; there was pain and pleasure, coming and going without rhyme or reason.

With nowhere else to go, Decro got lost in the depths of his mind.

---

Have you ever been in the clutches of oblivion? Imprisoned in a void with no escape, your mind the sole place of refuge from the emptiness around you, your thoughts the only company from the solitude beyond.

But like a gramophone disk, each playback wears it out. The needle of the mind scratches through the grooves of memories, scraping them away as each scene plays over and over. Every repetition erodes the memory. Details get lost, new elements are fabricated.

Dragged on long enough, the resultant disk is unrecognisable from the original. Who are you, if the memories you hold aren't real? Yet the record still spins, and the needle continues to etch its irreparable grooves on the disk. The void eats away your psyche and tears at your soul. Whatever's left at the end of eternity is an unrecognisable husk.

A product of oblivion.

---

~ End ~