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Vance the Grand Brewmaster

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'No matter how strong your army, no matter how immense your physique or keen your mind, you will be incapable of surviving without some line of supplies. Vance the Grande Brewmaster was lost for a long time, feeding off the pride of others. He drew strength from others' achievements. But when he realised his own faults, he began to find reasons to be proud of himself and seek ways to be proud of himself again.'

R3 the Writer of Reality

Liber Cruces , Chapter I - Pride, Sec. IIV

King had felt the deaths of his lackeys and as the ever opportunistic demon, he greedily devoured their wayward energies before they could seep into the very plane itself and slip forever out of his reach. Such tactics was how he had become the immense King of Pride that he had grown to become. When Superior had fallen, Pride Demons had attacked one another in a vain attempt to fill the power vacuum left by the former lord of this land. But they were careless, crass and brutal in their desperate attempts to consume as much pride energy as they could without being devoured themselves. They left scraps and after devouring the soul of a fellow demon, they just moved on without a care.

That let King take from their half-eaten meals, a puny, weak Pride Demon back then until he grew stronger and more powerful. His strength was in his cunning more than it was in his brute strength. Though these days, after centuries in Hell of the same tactics, he had become a monstrous being that lorded over the entire plain.

But this recent development...

No Pride Demon had died in recent times. He had to maintain a certain equilibrium with his subjects. He understood that if they were allowed to continuously ravage one another, while he could become bigger and stronger for it, he would run out of food and eventually starve to death. Some demons he purposefully ordered to just spy and observe while others he sent out hunting. Humans flooded into his plane at a constant rate but if consumption outstripped supply, his empire would crumble.

A soft slithering caught his attention and he opened one of his four eyes. His attendant and herald, Karuzad, entered his big expansive room and bowed in respect and fear.

"My Lord, the Coliseum is awaiting your presence."

Ah, the Coliseum. How he adored that structure and what it represented. Slowly, King lifted himself up from the darkness and opened his eyes fully, all four of them emitting an eerie, red light from their irises.

"Announce me."

Karuzad bowed nice and low and slithered back out.

King smiled to himself and moved towards the long, deep pit just beside him. He slithered down into the darkness, guided by feel and instinct alone. The tunnel led all over the Pridelands forming a vast network that allowed him to reach any location within the network within hours, if not minutes depending on the distance. Perhaps it was one of his greatest sources of pride and one that he greedily guarded from everyone, even his closest demons.

It was truly a sight to behold for the titanic King to emerge from the depths of the earth itself, rising to his monstrous height and unleashing a bellowing roar that just caused every living thing around him to immediately submit themselves to him.

But today was not one such day.

No, today he needed to make an appearance at his Coliseum.

It only took a minute before he could feel the roar of the crowd and the swell of pride from his Coliseum. From the dark tunnels, he emerged just as Karuzad announced his arrival. He emerged from behind the massive, black structure, spreading his immense arms - each with biceps as big as a house - and let out a primal roar. The Pride Demons before him all roared in approval as well.

The Coliseum was really more of an amphitheatre than an actual arena. Vaguely semicircular in shape, there were bleachers filled with Pride Demons loyal to him. Whether or not they felt any true affection towards him did not matter. They were not fighting against one another and they were united in the pride of having him as a leader. Not that they could feel much beyond that.

"Brothers!" he boomed, his gaze swinging across the audience. "Who will face off in the arena today? Who will fight for their pride? Who will regain their honour and rise through the ranks!?"

"I will!" boomed a large Pride Demon near the middle of the crowd. King didn't recognise him nor did he care too but he could sense the confidence oozing from the male. Some successful raids and successful tributes to King of newcomer humans had given the male great strength as a Pride Demon. That was good.

"And who will face him?" King rumbled.

There wasn't even a moment of silence before someone shouted, "He will!"

A small Pride Demon was singled out, perhaps just eight feet tall from torso up, small by the standards of King's demons. While proud still, the little man was nonetheless intimidated by the bigger demons around him. There were a few thoughts of triumphing over others that must have caused the accuser to throw him into the pit. King had forbidden his demons from devouring one another. Their only prey were other stray Pride Demons and only if they could not be converted and humans.

Big, powerful paws suddenly grabbed the smaller demon and began shoving and pulling him towards the arena, a stark contrast to the other fellow who was being applauded for his bravery coupled with bright cheers. The two contenders entered the arena whether forcibly or not and squared off against one another.

King licked his lips as his herald sounded the horn and the battle begun.

The bigger of the demons was certainly an accomplished warrior and knew his body well. He lunged at the smaller of the demons, moving with the fluidity of a serpent but with the speed and ferocity of a wolf. The smaller one was faster though and he whipped away before the bigger demon could pin him down. It was obvious that if the larger of the demons pinned the smaller down, it was all over.

Fast and cunning, the smaller of the demons lunged at his foe and was smart enough not to begin a prolonged engagement. He just clawed at the demon's thick hide before darting away, dodging a sweeping grab. Those were good tactics and King was reminded a little of himself. He found himself secretly rooting for the smaller of the demons.

But nature - even demonic nature - had a funny way of turning things on its head very easily. The little demon went in for another strike but instead of bracing himself for the attack or turning to intercept, the bigger of the demons threw himself backwards where he knew his foe was aiming for. The two collided in mid-air but with the superior weight of the larger of the demons, the little one was pinned to the ground.

And with that it was over.

"I win!" boomed the demon, licking his lips. Within moments, his twin dicks were rising out of his genital slit, oozing with pre. The little demon was dazed but not witless. He screamed and tried to scramble away but the bigger of the demons seized his tail and impaled his ass straight onto one of his members.

"Congratulations," King boomed. "Welcome to my Kingsguard."

It was one of the rare times that King willingly gave up some of his power to another but it was well worth it especially since it was loaded with his will. He opened his muzzle and leaned forward, his long, venomous fangs emerging with each one at least twenty feet long and capable of skewering a whole Pride Demon easily.

He squeezed his concentrated out of the enormous glands hidden within his muzzle, a thick purple goo dripping out from the tip of each fang. The demon beneath him kept the smaller, screaming demon pinned with one paw while he spread the other, eagerly reaching for the venom. Just one drop to King was like an entire tub for the demons beneath him and it crashed down onto the arena. A reason why he had the place built like an amphitheatre was to prevent any of those unworthy of receiving his gift to just hog the venom for themselves. Any excess flooded into the sands or splashed against the walls, lost and away from the reach of the crowd.

The big demon roared in ecstasy as King's venom seeped through his entire body and began filling it with immense, tainted Pride Energy. It was more than just some of the demonic essences that King had gathered over the centuries. That same energy had been filtered through King's very soul and he had twisted it with his taint. What he gave that these demons so willingly accepted was essentially a part of him.

And it soon began to grip the winner. A thick, purple cloud began emerging from the venom-soaked demon like the venom was rapidly evaporating. The miasma flooded the demon's very system and he threw his arms back with a tremendous roar. The smaller demon tried to scramble away now that he thought he was freed but found that he was still very much stuck to the other demon. To his horror, he found his tail merging with the demon's dick, the veins pulsating along the length of the larger of the unholy creatures merging with his own scales and coursing through his body. No doubt he had seen many such transformations before and he knew exactly what was happening. But he could not weep for too long as immeasurable pleasure began mounting through his body.

His last cry was abruptly cut short as a burst of white fluids erupted from between his lips and his entire body began tensing, growing stiffer as he became less and less like a demon and more part of a demon. At the same time, the large demon's other dick began to grow rapidly, twisting and writhing in the air. The big demon's hips bucked madly as more and more of his dicks mutated and reshaped themselves. Two tiny arms lumps emerged near the head of his canine cock and the head itself began to reshape and twist, forming a skull, a strong torso and lips dripping with seed.

All the while, the demon's entire form grew at a maddening pace, becoming bigger and stronger than any other demon in the crowd. He was becoming a member of King's Kingsguard. Already an immense ten feet tall, he grew bigger and bigger until he rose up to twenty feet, towering over his fellows with arms so big and thick that they would've easily crushed any puny human with a single swipe. He roared in triumph and threw his paws into the air, praising King with all his might.

At the same time, his two cocks went rigid. The Pride Demons emerging from his genital slit erupted with joy, demonic, corruptive seed shooting out of both their muzzles and a display of masculinity, virility and ecstasy. He seized his dicks in his big hands, easily twisting the thick, rigid lengths towards the crowd to give them a taste of what it meant to be a member of the Kingsguard. Naturally, the audience ate up the seed and felt the rush of power that flooded to them. It was what urged them to compete for a chance to be part of the Kingsguard even if they risked losing themselves entirely to become the cock of another.

As the euphoria of the transformation quickly ebbed, King withdrew his fangs and regarded his new Kingsguard. Now undyingly loyal to him, his new personal lay back on his coils. The guard's two dicks were starting to go soft but they wrapped their arms around one another and passionately began stimulating one another, kissing, nipping, tweaking nipples and running their paws over one another's bodies. The Kingsguard felt every gesture and he was growing increasing aroused by it all.

No one had yet questions whose soul occupied the second member and King smiled to himself knowing that both demons that had participated in the match were now but mere cocks for the Kingsguard.

"Today's match is concluded," King boomed. "Tomorrow again we shall see who shall ascend the ranks to become one of my Kingsguard!"

Again the audience roared in adulation. His newly made Kingsguard rumbled and began to rise. His two dicks reluctantly complied as they slowly shrank back into his genital slit. Though they didn't quite shrink, more like just folded themselves into the warm, protective embrace of the immense Kingsguard.

King regarded the departing Pride Demons.

One day, all of them shall be part of his Kingsguard and he will rule this place.

He could not do that if someone was out there killing his Pride Demons.

Something had to be done.

But first, he needed to find them.

******

Vance sighed in boredom.

Since arriving in Superior's sanctuary over a week ago, he and the rest of his group had been assigned tasks and roles that fit their abilities the best. Barry and Eugene, being some of the biggest of them all, were put to work helping around the farm, building homes for newcomers, tilling the fields and taking care of the herds that were used for food. Edward was proud as ever and he was put into managing a few of the newcomers and helping them integrate into the new world of being a Pride Demon which he was adjusting well towards. Zander, a man quite used to grooming well and looking good, opened a sort of salon where he and a few other demons pampered and helped them relax. It was also the place where sex was encouraged and no one had to hide their sexual dalliances with one another there.

But for Vance...

Well, no one really needed a personal trainer around this place especially when most of the time, everyone had rippling muscles and were huge by human standards. Those humans that weren't, usually took one look at the Pride Demons and then proceeded on their path to becoming one if only to get a hot bod.

So Vance was stuck on guard duty.

He was stuck guarding an invisible, pocket-dimension where a farm filled with peaceful Pride Demons roamed undisturbed.

It was the easiest job in the world but certainly also the most boring.

Watching the empty planes beyond the farm's walls was like watching grass grow though watching the latter would likely have been more exciting. At least Barry and Eugene had built him a little guardhouse so he wasn't basking in the strange, purple sun of this plain. He lay curled in the large hut standing atop a large spire of brick and mortar. He had a clear view of the surrounding lands in all directions but it wasn't like a lot of people - demon or human - ever came this way anyway. As far as they were concerned, there was nothing but flat grassland for miles around.

It wasn't like he had a lot to entertain himself either. Sadly, Hell lacked any sort of television broadcasting system or even a deck of cards. The only past time, really, was hunting for pride or sex and Mallory, his son, had sort of reduced the former redundant with his ability to convert any sort of matter around the world into pure pride for consumption.

Looking at the large glass sitting on the edge of the window, Vance picked it up and took a sip from the clear, bright purple liquid. A grimace crossed his broad, masculine muzzle and he set the glass back down. Though his body was filled with strength and energy that only Pride Demons could enjoy, the brew Mal made still tasted horrible. It was effectively Pride Demon medicine and as with most medicines back on Earth, it was a terrible mix of slight sourness and a _lot_of bitterness and that terrible aftertaste of someone trying to synthesise some sort of sweetness to make it taste like grapes.

He wiped his muzzle with the back of his free paw as he set the glass back down. Over the past few months, he had grown a goatee that stood out as a stark contrast against his purplish-black fur. He still kept his hair nice and short though it now had a few layers now, something that Zander commented made him look very good and less like he had dropped right out of the Pride Demon military.

With a long sigh, he crossed his arms behind his head, lying casually within the curls of his coils and settling in for yet another day for watching a whole lot of nothing. He tried to occupy his mind, trying to keep himself entertained but he couldn't even get himself aroused at the thought of fucking his son this evening. Mallory was usually too busy with his students or various patients who were injured across the farm to really feel like being intimate at night. Sure they still cuddled and Mal did enjoy sucking off his old man but it was more out of nourishment than actually any sort of affection.

More and more, he was starting to realise that he and Mal were drifting apart.

"You have these fears and yet you do not act on them."

Vance's eyes snapped open. He didn't even realise he had dozed off until he saw the bizarre entity standing in front of him. The being was unlike anything or any_one_ he had seen before. The guy was dressed form head to toe in white armour, trimmed with gold and a blue coat hung around his shoulders. His features were completely hidden by a helm with a 'T' shaped visor and three spires rising from it to form a golden crown of sorts. Only his bizarre blue eyes were visible beneath the visor's darkness; sapphire blue orbs with irises shaped like eight pointed stars. Springing from his back were chains shaped like the skeletal frame of a pair of wings.

"Who the hell are you!?" Vance demanded, instantly uncurling and baring his venomous fangs, his claws at the ready.

"I go by the name of R3 the Writer of Reality," answered the man, pressing a gauntleted hand against his armoured chest. "I am a No One. A colleague of Havoc's."

"Havoc...?" Vance didn't relax at that name. However, he did slightly relax when he came to a realisation. "You're the one that led us here, aren't you? You're that 'guardian angel' that Mal spoke of."

"That I am. I am the one that taught him how to manipulate the very energies of this world to assist in helping and healing others trapped within this plane." R3 reached for the glass Vance had set down. "Though I do admit his idea of liquefying pride into a sort of energy drink, while intriguing and quite ingenious, doesn't leave much to the sense of taste."

"Hey!" Vance growled. "That's my son!"

"Come now, you were thinking exactly the same thing," R3 accused. The No One set the glass down. "In any case, you fear losing your son." It was a statement, not a question. "Mallory has made a name for himself, he is now the Supreme Meister and rarely needs your assistance anymore. Even the times when he draws upon you for support and nourishment, you feel is little more than him placating you out of some familial obligation instead of actual need. Unlike previously."

Vance let out a dangerous growl and straightened. "Look, I was never very religious but I'm pretty sure I'm not supposed to take this from someone who looks like the fucking Grim Reaper decked out like pimp in knight's armour!"

"Well. That's only the forty-five billion, seven hundred and ninety-two million, sixty-three thousand, three hundred and twenty-seventh time I've heard that."

"Really? You're kidding."

"There are an infinite number of possible universes out there and there are only a finite number of combinations of the English language. You'd be surprised." R3 shrugged absently. "In any case, whether you want my help or not, the point still stands that you did not deny my words. I do believe you're feeling what's commonly considered 'Empty Nest Syndrome'."

He bristled at the comment. "Hey, I'm not some grieving mother that's torn up over the fact that her son found a good job and is able to take care of himself!"

"Really? What would you say if I told you one would argue that you are considering you're still 'giving him milk' most nights."

"You son of a bitch!" Vance lunged at R3 only to have something strong and metallic slap against his cheek and sending him crashing to the side of the lookout tower. He tried to rise but suddenly found the point of a deep purple and silver spear pressed against his nose. It was a rather beautiful weapon with its blade a rich amethyst colour and the haft a shimmering silver. Bands of arcane runes were drawn all over its surface, twisting and curling across its length.

"I am not your enemy, Vance," R3 said sagely. "In fact, I'm here to give you some purpose."

"Purpose?" Vance scoffed. "Why the hell should I do what you want? You and your kind stranded us here in the middle of Hell without any help or assistance!"

That seemed to amuse the deity. "Believe it or not, it was necessary for your growth."

"We were fucking attacked by demons, constantly harassed and practically starving out there! You call that 'necessary for our growth'!?"

"Would you rather I babied you, pressed you against my breast and coddled you until the end of your eternal life while you suckled on my teat?"

Vance winced and sank back. "Ouch..."

"Has the irony hit you yet?"

He frowned at the Writer. "What irony?"

"Give it a second."

Then it hit. "Oooh..." He grimaced. "You were referencing how I feel about Mal..."

"Bingo."

He shook his head. "I knew I'd have to let Mal go eventually but I thought I'd at least have the rest of this year! He's a senior and he had good grades. I thought he might make it to college and maybe even move out of state! I'd be supporting him still and I'd at least get to see him on some weekends and holidays but we'd still have that connection! I didn't think he'd be so independent for at least another four or five years!" His massive shoulders sagged. "I thought I'd at least have at least a couple of years where he'd come to me, want to be big and buff to get a girl and we'd have some quality father-son-time before he really left the nest..." He glanced at R3 whose blue eyes just stared back at him impassively. "And fine. The father son bonding I had with him was pretty hot and I really felt a deep connection there... Letting him go now after having that for such a short time..."

Somehow, he got the eerie feeling that R3 was smiling at him despite the entity's features being hidden by his helmet.

"There's our little epiphany." R3 lifted his spear and offered Vance a hand. Though he was much smaller than Vance, he was surprisingly strong and pulled Vance up straight with ease.

"So what?" Vance grunted. "That's all you needed from me? Just admit I have a problem? Is this like AA?"

"Yes and no. Admitting you have a problem is the first step just like in AA. The next step... well... Unlike AA, I'm going to throw temptation straight back in your face to see how you deal." He pointed out the little window of the lookout tower, particularly near the entrance of the compound. "I believe you know that poor little, lost Pride Demon and can recognise a guy in need when you see one."

Vance peered down to where R3 was pointing and his eyes widened. There indeed was a Pride Demon there and it was one of those that had attacked them that fateful night when Mal had conjured an immensely powerful weapon that he claimed his 'guardian angel' gave him. Vance easily recognised the guy from the long strands of clearly dyed blond hair that hung over his face and the similar blonde tufts of fur that highlighted his elbows, the curvature of his chest and teased onlookers with a view of his armpits. It was clear that his pubic fur was blonde as well. The Pride Demon, Bazler if he remembered correctly, looked like he was on his last ropes and had collapsed about twenty feet away from the entrance of the sanctuary. He lifted a water skin he was carrying towards his muzzle but nothing came out and he collapsed to the ground in exhaustion.

"Your call, Vance," R3 said. "Do you save the guy that attacked you and find a new purpose in life? Or will you leave him to die and do nothing while the rest of the world moves around you?"

He flashed R3 a venomous stare. "You're a real piece of work to play with people's lives like this!"

"I don't play."

Vance huffed loudly and slithered out of the lookout tower. There was a long pole that could easily be used to lift one's self up into the tower or slide back down but really only for Pride Demons. Any others would have difficulty. He slipped down the length of the tower and hurried out of the sanctuary.

It didn't take long to reach Bazler but as he did, the Pride Demon snarled at him and tried to rise, tried to make himself look bigger. The poor guy seemed to have shrunk in size since they last met, now standing a little smaller than Vance when before he was a good foot or so taller. It really showed how much power he had lost.

"Get away!" Bazler growled, flashing his fangs. "I'll... I'll crush your skull!" He wavered and collapsed forward.

Vance immediately caught him, grunting as most of the demon's weight fell on him. Somehow, he managed to remain upright. "Come on, kid. Stay with me. Don't die."

"Got to... Find..." Bazler dropped into unconsciousness.

Vance didn't even doubt himself and hefted the demon onto his shoulders. He grabbed the demon's water skin in one hand and gripped his charge with his other.

He hurried back into the sanctuary where he began yelling for help.

******

"How is he?" Vance asked.

"Stable," Mallory Jenkins, his son, answered gravely. Mal was much smaller than Vance in terms of size, possessing a strong bodybuilder's build on a human scale but miniscule in comparison to other Pride Demons. Like his father, he bore purple stripes along his arms and back but most of that was hidden by the new white doctor's coat that he wore. Though the coat hung open over his shoulders, it still left the red vest he wore exposed to the elements. Of most of the other Pride Demons, he was certainly the most dressed.

"I don't know how long he's been travelling by himself," Mal said gravely. "But he's had a lot of battles and I don't think he won all of them. He's got scars and wounds all over his body and he's low on Pride energy. We've got him hooked up to an IV right now." He nodded towards where Bazler was lying on a long bed while Mal's other Meisters were taking care of him, constantly checking his vitals and gently rubbing his muscles with their paws, a soft purple light emanating from the contact as they repaired his body.

"You took a risk bringing him here, dad," Mal said gravely. "You know what Superior said about those demons under King's influence."

"Basically half a man, I know," Vance murmured. "Brainwashed to be his loyal subjects and craving his approval so that they could boast to others. That's all they know..." He regarded Bazler. The poor, weakened demon didn't seem at all that menacing. "He needed help, Mal. I couldn't stand by and watch him just die at our doorstep."

His son gave him a wry smile. "Yeah, that would be pretty bad. I guess it doesn't matter either way. Once he's all patched up, we can send him on his way. He wouldn't be able to find his way back here anyway. He was delirious and half-dead when he came here. Maybe we can do one of those cool mafia-type drop-offs where we put a sack over his head, escort him out into the middle of nowhere and then just leave him."

That was his son. Though he may be hunky and now have the build of a professional bodybuilder, he was still the nerdy little kid at heart. He ruffled Mal's thick, bold hair, being careful to avoid the two pairs of horns now jutting out of the demon's head like a bony crown. Thinking of crowns, he was reminded of R3 and if anyone knew about the No One, it was Mal.

"I met your guardian angel today."

"My...?" Mal began, a little puzzled. Then his eyes widened. "Oh! You mean the Writer?" He glanced over his shoulder at his other Meisters and gently grabbed Vance's wrist, pulling him aside. "Try not to mention him around anyone else. Apparently the No Ones have a reputation in the spiritual plains. Some good, some bad."

"You mean like Havoc?" Vance growled the name.

"Him the most. Apparently he governs the aspect of Chaos and absolutely _loves_throwing things into disarray. R3 is apparently their leader and going around saying you've met him is sort of like seeing Black Shuck."

"Black what-now?"

Mal shrugged at him. "Legend from England. Apparently, it's this big, black dog with huge eyes, large bared teeth and shaggy black fur. If you see him, it'll bode ill for you or immediate death." His son inclined his head. "Though I've heard legends that say that Black Shuck could be also pretty benign and is said to accompany people on their way home like a protector, helping lost travellers find their way and is helpful than threatening."

Vance huffed. "Kind of like what he did with you, huh?"

"Sort of. He even has the creepy eyes."

They both shared a soft laugh but through every tone, Vance could detect the strain between them. It was like someone was strumming at his heartstrings and with each little pluck, the integrity of those strings was crumbling. Mal was acting more like a colleague than his son. The brief exchange felt more like watercooler talk than an exchange between father and son.

"I'll keep him around and see if we can help him," Mal said, nodding towards the unconscious Bazler. "Under close observation, of course." He then gave Vance a bright, innocent smile. "I'll see you back at home?"

That heralded the end of the conversation. As much as Vance wanted to keep it going, he had nothing to talk about. What was interesting in his day that was worth mentioning that Mal didn't already know? "Sure son," he said, forcing a smile. "See you back there."

Vance left that small clinic that only had five rooms. There were only a few Meisters that Mal had managed to train up within the week but that was still quite an accomplishment. In a peaceful sanctuary like this, injuries were rather seldom. Though some wild beast may occasionally maul someone, it was never fatal and with Mal's skills they were usually up and running within the day.

"Vance!"

Superior, the leader of the Pride Demons and their little community slithered over. The large Pride Demon tipped his cowboy hat towards him in greeting.

"I hear you found one of King's men out there," said the titanic Pride Demon.

"I did," Vance responded, hiking his thumb at the clinic. "Mal is treating him right now." He narrowed his gaze at Superior. "You're not planning on kicking him out the moment he's better, are you?"

"Of course not," Superior responded, looking a little insulted. "Everyone is welcome here. I was just going to ask if you happen to see anyone else out there. From what I heard, he was attacked and rather beaten up."

Vance hadn't even thought of what the possibility that Bazler had been bait. He glanced back out towards the north where he had been perched. "No... I didn't see anyone else. But just in case I missed someone..." He turned back to Superior. "Can anyone breach this place?"

The larger demon didn't look worried. "Only the most powerful of demons would be able to accomplish such a feat and these days, they are rare. King likes to keep demons under his command at a certain level and only elevates those that he deems worthy to his Kingsguard."

"Really? Those bastards that hit us were pretty damn big..." Vance rubbed the back of his head, still remembering the blows he had suffered.

Superior led him away from the clinic towards the living quarters of the farm. There, large single or double bedroom cabins had been erected. Most only had a kitchen, a small dining area and the rooms but all had the same large front patio where Pride Demons could lounge out in the sun whenever they weren't doing anything. All were made of a bright purple wood that looked a little gaudy in Vance's opinion but apparently, it was one of the hardest materials in the Pridelands. If one were to properly laminate and treat the wood, it would be even harder than titanium on earth.

Despite his rank as a leader of the community, Superior had a small cabin of his own with just a single room. They headed up to the patio where Superior curled his coils around himself to form a little couch which he then rested his broad, muscular torso against, leaning forward and gazing listlessly out into the distance. Vance remained a respectable distance away and did the same though he lay back on his serpentine lower half.

"King is a shrewd if megalomaniacal leader," Superior said. A soft, bitter snort left his nostrils. "A little like me to be honest. Before I was humbled." Whatever humour he held faded quickly as he continued. "King willingly inflates others with some of his pride energy that's been filtered through his very soul. Demons rarely think beyond the need to feed and being offered pride regardless of the source is something most wouldn't question."

"What does that do to them?"

"The energy becomes twisted with King's essence and will; effectively placing suggestions into the minds of those that consume it. They aren't fully under his control. At least not at first. However, if he sinks his fangs into them, his venom is so inundated with his poisonous pride that they turn into his thralls."

"Damn..."

"That's not the worst of it." Superior straightened. "He makes sure to pump all those around him with enough power that they are stronger than your average Pride Demon so that they can bring more under his sway. Those that become strong enough can complete in his 'Coliseum' to become members of his Kingsguard. Last I heard, he holds daily competitions now. Before it was just every month or so."

Vance inclined his head to the side curiously. "You seem to know a lot..."

The leader of the demons snorted and tapped his muzzle slightly. "I wouldn't be doing my job to keep my people safe if I didn't keep an eye on my enemies." He pressed that same finger against his lips, indicating secrecy. "I've got spies on King. I didn't come to rule this plane for nothing, you know."

"Must've been lonely at the top if you don't want to get your throne back."

Superior waved away his words and rolled his eyes. "It's nice being the biggest guy with the biggest dick but the thing about being in at the top of a prideful society is that you've got a long way to fall. I almost died multiple times if it weren't for the No Ones." He patted the silvery revolver hanging by his hip. "Really took me through the loop before H2 gave me old Perspective here." Superior sighed softly and then clucked his tongue. "Anyway, back to King. I don't suppose you know about the Kingsguard, do you?"

Vance shook his head to indicate a negative.

"King used to start off with just a handful of them but as he got more and more demons under his command, he began expanding his 'elite'. The Kingsuard are King's own creation. A sort of amalgamation of two Pride Demons. He takes one demon and has it fuck another one. Then he exposes them both with his venom, slowly merging them both. The dominant demon's body gets transformed into the 'main' body of a much larger beast, much bigger than the sum of the two. But the poor guy's soul gets transferred to his cocks where it is subdued and heavily sedated. This in turn turns one of his dicks into basically another Pride Demon. Think instead of having a second dick, it's another Pride Demon coming out of your slit, muscles, scales, fur and all."

Vance grimaced. "What happens to the fuckee?"

"Merges with the main body's cock and their soul is subdued as well. The end result is basically three demons for the price of two. An empty, subservient body that follows King's will and two other demons acting as the main's dicks that are too busy fondling one another and adoring each other to ever resist."

Vance pictured the creature in his head and had to admit, there was_some part of him that would've loved the idea of having some big, muscly Pride Demon attached as his dick. Someone who would never leave him and would always be there for him. But he had _so many questions and the thought of the individuality of those poor demons being suppressed was a major turn-off.

"How do they pee?"

Superior gave him a lifted eyebrow and laughed softly. "You really don't want to know." His features grew grim again. "Last I heard, he had over ten thousand Kingsguard members and growing. He has over a hundred times that in terms of those following him."

Vance did the calculations and his heart sank. "He has a _million_Pride Demons!?"

"There's plenty more out in the plain still not under his command and possibly some others out on other demonic realms."

"There are really that many demons?"

Superior gave him an absent shrug. "If you think how many humans there are on Earth and how they've really only been prominent in a couple of thousand years, is it really that hard to believe? Besides, you've got to remember that demons can reproduce as well so we have people incoming from Earth and babies popping out amongst ourselves." Again, Superior's features grew bitter. "Though we haven't had a birth in a very long time... Not since I fell..."

Vance frowned and glanced around the farm. "Why? Because they're no women around?"

The community's leader gave him a puzzled stare. "No. Because..." He cut himself off and frowned. "Wait... you don't know?"

"Don't know what?"

"How babies are made."

Vance scoffed and it was his turn to wave away Superior's statement. "I _was_a personal trainer back on Earth. I _know_how babies are made."

"On Earth," Superior responded. "Here in Hell, babies can be made from both heterosexual and homosexual couplings. In fact, I even know a few cases where a demon produced asexually!"

Vance paled, at least as far as his dark-purple fur would let him. "W - w - what...?"

"Demons don't need opposite genders to produce offspring," Superior slowly. He reached out and gripped Vance's shoulder. The contact helped Vance from leaping out of his skin in horror. "It's more a spiritual thing than an actual physical thing. When two - sometimes more - demons couple, if a demon willingly accepts the soul of another into themselves and wills themselves towards the path of pregnancy, they will take a sort of copy of the soul of those that are fucking them and start forging it into a new demon within themselves. It's actually a rather common tactic with some demonic races. The babies will naturally be reliant on you thus you could very well have a thrall under your command. You could start feeding off the baby's soul for as long as you can, making yourself stronger."

"That's monstrous!"

"We're demons," Superior stated simply. "It's how things are here."

Vance shook off the other demon's grip. "I'm sort of glad you guys haven't had a kid in a long time..."

Superior gaze narrowed. "That's low. Some here would kill to be able to have a son again."

"So what's stopping them? Can't they feel any love anymore because they're all fucking demons that'll just eat the souls of their offspring!?" Vance wasn't sure why he was angry. Perhaps it was the understanding that he had a son here and that it was within in veins to devour Mal's soul just to make himself stronger.

Superior slowly began uncurling, his fangs bared and his large muscles tensed. "Don't you dare judge me! I'm not the one the fucks my own kid!"

Anger welled up in Vance's chest and he puffed it out to try and make himself look bigger. "I do not fuck him! He just sucks my dick for sustenance!"

"What's the difference!?" Superior snarled, leaning down until they were practically nose to nose. "You don't know what it's like! Though we know more humans may come and stumble upon our sanctuary, it's no guarantee and King's patrols are picking them off far quicker than we can save them! We're the dying race here! How would you feel if you were down to the last of your kind!?"

"And what kind is that, huh!?" Vance roared. "The 'noble' Pride Demons? You're still fucking demons!"

"Looked in the mirror lately? You're one of us!"

Vance bared his fangs ready to tackle the bigger Pride Demon down. Somehow, through the pumping of blood through his ears, he could still make out the soft creaking of a rocking chair swinging back and forth just behind Superior. Still with his jaw wide open to allow for his large, dagger-like fangs to remain extended, he leaned a little to the side to discover the source of the peculiar noise.

He pulled back in surprise at the presence of R3 just sitting there, one leg over the other, a delicate porcelain teacup in one hand and a book in the other, absently rocking back and forth with his wings made of chains folded behind him.

Superior caught where he was looking and stumbled backwards, crashing into Vance in surprise. Vance was sort of glad he didn't fight the bigger demon. He was heavy.

"R - R - R3!"

The Writer glanced at them both. "Are you two quite done with the entire machismo act?" He took a delicate sip from his teacup though how he got it past his helm was a mystery. There definitely was some liquid in the cup as well.

"My lord!" Superior stammered, quickly scrambling to straighten and bow towards the No One. "I apologise! Had I known..."

R3 waved away the apology. "You both have valid concerns. One is based on millions of years of demonic tradition and genetic disposition while the other is based on another incalculable number of years of human evolution and lifelong beliefs. But just because things have remained static for time immemorial, it does not mean you should not strive for change."

"My Lord...?" Superior began, puzzled.

"Has it ever occurred to you that the reason no new births have been had amongst Pride Demons is because they have been shifting more and more away from their true nature as Pride Demons?" Superior didn't answer, clearly puzzled by the question. "You're teaching them humility, harmony and coexistence. Certainly nothing wrong with that but with that comes the downfall of lacking in ambition and desire to exceed expectations. You draw your Pride Energy from what you cultivate and breed but you never produce any of your own. How can you expect to give birth to a new Pride Demon when you cannot be proud of yourself?"

"But I am proud," Superior answered defensively. "I'm proud of the community we've made, proud of how everyone is working together and proud of the bonds we've shared."

R3 laughed brightly and set down his cup on the bannister of the patio. "Let me put this far more simply then. On Earth, a mother must sacrifice her personal space and energy to produce the child within her. Generally, her intake is greater than what she would have usually. With demons, it is very much the same way. You will never be able to produce a child if you continue to balance your pride with humility and reject your nature."

"We aren't rejecting our nature. Merely refining it."

"And continue to refine it still without sacrificing the future of your species."

Superior frowned and crossed his arms. "I... I think I see your meaning." He nodded slowly. "Thank you, My Lord. I had not thought of that." He bowed once more to R3 and began heading back towards the main farm. "If you'll excuse me. I have much to think about."

That left Vance with the Writer and he dared to approach to No One. "Is what you said really true?"

"Hell no," R3 responded bluntly to Vance's shock. "The real reason they are incapable of producing offspring is because this land is still within King's influence and he is using his power to suppress births. He wants to make sure that only those under his influence are allowed to breed and only then when he has dealt with Superior and this sanctuary." He picked up his tea cup again. "He really is a rather paranoid ruler. He is fully aware of where this place is but because he wants to make sure his troops have some sort of goal to strive for, he keeps Superior around. At the same time, he controls who gets more demons."

Vance slowly began to understand King's plans. "He gets the majority share of the newcomers while Superior gets the scraps..."

"Nail on the head," R3 said.

"That bastard!" He moved in front of R3. "We have to do something!"

"We?"

Vance bit reeled back in surprise. "Are you telling me you're just going to sit there and do nothing? I thought you wanted to change Hell for the better!"

"No." R3 lifted his cup. "I'm going to sit here and drink my tea."

That smug reply was exactly the kind of answer that Vance would never tolerate from his child. He smacked the cup away from the No One's hand before he even thought about what he was doing. The moment the delicate porcelain shattered on the ground, he realised he had made a huge mistake.

"Sorry..." he said, backing away with his hands in the air. "I'm really sorry. I didn't mean that... I..."

"I liked that cup," R3 said, regarding the shattered remains mournfully.

"I'm really sorry..." Vance murmured, folding his ears back and lowering his head. "I... I... I wasn't thinking..."

R3 stood and despite being far larger, Vance felt like he was shrinking. "No, no," the No One said jovially, "I actually quite enjoyed that little outburst. It was quite refreshing to see you passionate about something." He turned his alien blue eyes straight at Vance, their mysterious irises burning straight into Vance's soul. "Tell me something, why were you so mad when you lost that gym of yours during those quakes in Angelton."

Vance frowned at the question and averted his gaze. "I don't know... Who wouldn't? My job just fell apart... I had no way of supporting my family."

"Is that all?"

"What else is there?"

R3 chuckled softly and shut the book in his hands. "You are speaking to someone who exists beyond Time and Space and who has dealt with countless cases like yours. That was not a rhetorical question."

Vance sighed and let his broad shoulders sag. "I don't know! I guess I was frustrated I couldn't work out anymore."

"You had plenty of workout equipment at your house."

"I had some pretty good co-workers."

"You once called them 'stuck-up, elitist frat-boys' and hated the music they blared across the speakers in the gym."

"My wife left me!"

"You were planning to do exactly the same thing the moment Mallory moved out of the house. You wanted to train hard, get into professional bodybuilding and marry the job."

Vance clutched the sides of his head and let out a frustrated roar. "What the hell do you want from me!?"

"The reason why you practically alienated your wife with your temper when your gym blew up, why willingly accepted your new shape and form after you son transformed you, why you never showed any initiative even as you were stranded out in the plains with dwindling food and why you sat in that tower day in, day out just wasting time until something big happened."

He winced. Every statement was like a nail in his coffin, a hammer to his confidence that shrunk him smaller and smaller until, in a tiny little voice he said, "I guess... because I didn't want to change...?"

R3's voice softened. "There we go." He sat back down on his rocking chair, swinging back patiently. "Now go on. Don't stop."

Vance rested his weight against the patio banister. "I... I don't know what to say... I've never done this before..."

"Speak to a therapist?"

"Speak to a god who is _playing_therapist."

"Would it help if I clicked my fingers and change our surroundings so that we're suddenly in a stereotypical therapist's lounge with me on a big, comfy armchair and you lying down on a sofa?"

Vance shook his head. "Not really. No."

"Would you like some tea?"

He gave it some thought. "You know what? Alright. I'll have some tea."

R3 reached into his coat and retrieved a large mug, bigger than he could hold. It was already filled with steaming hot liquid and it was the first time that Vance noticed that the liquid was a smooth, velvety, light lavender colour. He offered it to Vance who took it with thanks.

"How did you do that, by the way? Is your coat a magical portal to some storage shed or something?"

"No, nothing so complex," R3 responded. "I'm simply the Writer of Reality. I can rewrite the very laws of this universe at my whim."

"That's not complex?" Vance countered, taking a sip from the tea. It was a beautiful blend of sweet but also a bit of spicy, a little like chocolate blended with some chillies and strawberries. "This is good. What is it?"

"It doesn't have a name yet. Mostly, however, it is Essence of Arrogance mixed with hellfruit juice with a little special ingredient that I won't care to mention."

"It's good." Vance nodded at the brew. "Tastes way better than Mal's medicine." He twisted the cup in his big paws a couple of times just to find something to do before confessing. "So..."

"So," R3 repeated.

"So... I didn't want anything to change." Vance took another sip from the tea and felt the energies coursing through his veins. "It wasn't that I was lazy just... I guess I found meaning in others. I was proud of my clients when they lost those ten pounds or when they could lift past last week's limits. It meant that all my pushing, encouragement and weeks of work were put showing. They were making progress. But I guess..." He looked solemnly into the steaming liquid in his paws. "... I never progressed."

R3 was silent, just waiting for him to continue.

"It was always proud of everyone else. I'm even proud of Mal with how far he's gotten. I encouraged them, supported them. But..." He lifted his gaze towards R3. "No one ever supported me. Not really. My wife hated that I was this macho meathead despite the fact that's how we met." His lips curled into a bitter smile. "She was my client you know."

"I know."

"Right. Of course you do." He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Did she really want me to quit being a personal trainer after we got married?"

"She knew your passion was fitness but hoped you would take up a more management role than yelling and screaming in people's ears to push themselves harder. She did not think that was the kind of environment a child should grow up in. Reason being is that she saw this article of this preteen child who was built like a bodybuilder and didn't want that for her son."

Vance laughed and lifted his mug. "Oh yeah. I saw that. Sick that his parents did that to him..." He shook his head. "I let Mal be himself. I hope she saw that."

"I don't think it matters what she saw because it was who you saw in the mirror that should matter."

"Right..." Vance murmured. "Every morning, I would get up, look at my client list and think about how I would push them to a new level. It was in _their_progress that I drew pride from. Still the same here. I'm just 'Supreme Meister Mallory's dad'. I don't have any notable achievements to my name."

"You think it's about time to change that?"

Vance gave him a sour look. "And how exactly am I meant to do that? It's not like there's a lot to do around here. And if you expect me to start riling people up to wage war upon King, think again. I'm no army general."

R3 inclined his head and offered Vance a shrug. "You could always make a spectacular brew that mixes the properties of your son's medicine with something that actually tastes good."

He glanced at the mug. "What? This? You made this."

"No I didn't."

"Then who did?"

Somehow, he got the eerie feeling that R3 was smiling at him. It took a few seconds but when he came to the realisation, he actually felt like his brain had exploded.

"You're kidding me... How?"

"I am the Writer of Reality," R3 answered with a shrug. "I can alter Time and Space around me as I see fit. You really think it's that hard to travel to and from a certain point in time for me? In fact, as we speak, I'm in _billions_of other realities right now, helping others as they need."

Vance pointed at the mug. "Actually, I was talking about how I made this..."

"Ah," R3 chuckled softly. "As I said, the secret ingredient is something you'll have to figure out yourself otherwise there'd be no sense of achievement in it. But there is a winery at the edge of the sanctuary. It was formerly used to squeeze down hellfruit to make juice in the early days but now that cattle and other sources of food have become abandoned and demand for the inhabitants' attention has been drawn elsewhere, it has seen disuse."

Regarding the steaming mug again, Vance let out a thoughtful noise and took another sip. Whatever that 'secret ingredient' was, he needed to figure it out. He had purpose again. Just as R3 had promised. "Thanks."

"You're welcome."

******

Vance returned to the cabin he shared with his son a little after dark. It had been a long time since he had actually worked up a sweat here and it felt good to have his broad muscles pumped once more. In fact, he couldn't remember a time when he had been so worked up since his transformation. Everything had gotten a lot easier since he had been turned into a demon and even the hundred pound weights he used to have were ridiculously easy to lift. Even after being condemned to Hell, he never had to strain himself.

But making the machinery of the winery go by hand had really forced him to put his muscles to good use. It had been an exercise of picking hellfruits from the orchards at the rear of the sanctuary, squeezing the juice out of them using the old machines and then proceeding to test out how to make some Proudbrew. Unfortunately, he only managed to get some picking and juicing done and didn't get to concoct anything spectacular before the sun began setting.

At the very least, he had barrels of hellfruit juice stacked in the distilling area that he decided he would let ferment at the back of winery for a while. Maybe they would get better in taste. That was how wine worked. At least from his basic understanding.

When he entered his home Mal instantly poked his head out from the nearby bedroom.

"Dad!"

Seeing him excited at his arrival brought up old feelings of being a father. It felt like something out of a sitcom. Long day of work only to come home to his loving family only this 'loving family' was a bit more... unusual than anything else American TV would dare to put on air.

"Hey son," Vance rumbled with a smile. "How was your day?"

"Pretty good," Mal responded though concern crossed his features. "How was yours? You're usually home before I am."

"Oh right. Well I discovered a disused winery at the rear of the sanctuary and wanted to see if I could get it going again."

"That was you?" Mal emerged from the bedroom but he wasn't the only one. Vance's heart froze and he was instantly on edge as a large Pride Demon emerged.

Bazler.

"What's he doing here!?" he growled.

Mal glanced over his shoulder the Pride Demon and offered Vance a wry smile. "Well, he's all healed and patched up. The damage was just superficial but there was a lot of it so after a few hours, he's back on his feet... erm... coils?" He shook his head. "Anyway, he needed a place to stay since the clinic isn't really a place where we can keep people, you know."

"But why here?" Vance growled, baring his fangs. "He attacked us!"

"And I showed that I could easily kill him if he threatens us," Mal responded, making a sweeping gesture with his right paw. There was a flurry of purplish light from his fingertips and his brilliant scythe appeared, Shameless. Bazler flinched away from the sight of the weapon. "Besides, he's a nice guy. He's actually from Houston. Tried to make it to New York of California before he was killed."

Hearing that tale sparked a bit of pity in Vance. He forgot that most people in Hell had died on Earth and were thus condemned here.

"How'd you die?"

Bazler averted his gaze. "I hitched a ride with a tucker. He wanted my ass for payment. I wouldn't give it to him so he beat me to death and fucked me anyway."

Vance winced. "Shit... that's rough... Why were you hitchhiking anyway?"

"Ran away from home. Parents were assholes. Tried to make it on my own." He flashed a piercing stare at Vance. "You gonna judge me?"

"Far be it for me to judge a demon," Vance snorted. "I was fucked by my son and became a demon. I have no place to judge. Especially since I like being with Mal."

Bazler's features softened. "Heh... Guess different world, different rules." He held out his paw towards Vance. "I'm Bazler if you didn't already know."

"That can't be your real name," Vance said, taking the offered paw.

"My real name is Bobby Amadeus Ren Junior. But my dad's name was Bobby as well so... I prefer Bazler."

A smile slowly crossed Vance's lips. "Your name was Bobby Junior?"

"Yeah? What of it?"

"As in... 'BJ'?"

Mal's eyes widened. "Dad!"

Bazler rolled his eyes and let go of Vance's paw. "Yeah, yeah. I got that all the time in high school." He pointed an accusing finger at Vance. "You still don't get to judge though. I heard you still 'feed' Mal."

Vance blushed lightly beneath his fur and turned towards the kitchen. "Who's hungry?"

"Not me," Mal said, patting his ripped stomach. "When you didn't come home at your usual time, Baz and I had a little bite to eat with some of my fellow Meisters. There's plenty of food though. Help yourself." He hiked his thumb over his shoulder back at his room. "I'm going to go continue filling up my compendium."

Mal had been hard at work practicing and documenting the various ways to manipulate the very substance of the Pridelands and he was filling in what he called was his 'compendium'. Vance just imagined his son wandering around the clinic with that large tome in one paw and his scythe in the other and he had to admit to feeling a degree of pride at the image. But as R3 had told him, he needed to find pride in himself and stop making others the basis of his strength.

He headed over to the kitchen which was large by human standards but for Pride Demons, it was fairly small. With their long coils and large bodies, two demons could barely fit into the enclosed space without slithering over one another or knocking something over in their attempt to get out of the other's way. Thankfully, sliding over another demon's lower half wasn't as bad as stepping on a guy's toes.

Demonic facilities were also a little different to human standards. Instead of a stove, there was a pit that could be set alight with demonic hellfire begin the cooking process. However, given that most demons really didn't care what something tasted like as long as it had pride in it, the pit was mostly something for the humans who didn't quite want to be turned into demons yet. Still, Vance decided that if he was going to match the taste of a particular drink that he had only tasted once, he should at least get his tastebuds a bit of a workout.

So he grabbed a few of the purplish stones and struck them together. Indigo flames launched from the stones and leapt into the pit where a blazing flame quickly erupted. Vance headed over to the pantry where a whole leg from one of the livestock had been stored, wrapped in a protective film of the demonic equivalent of plastic wrap - only this was sort of a webbing instead of plastic. He unwrapped it and stuck in over the hellfire pit, letting it cook. Again, for the humans in the sanctuary, there were spices and seasonings that he could throw on but it wasn't the typical salt and pepper. The large containers were labelled as 'deathpepper', 'doomspice' and 'neversalt'. Vance experimented with a few of the spices as the white and purple striped leg began to cook in its own juices.

Just as the meal was about ready, he became all too aware that someone was watching him. Bazler was standing a short distance away, curled around the kitchen counter made of demonic marble.

"You hungry?" Vance asked.

"I wasn't until you started cooking." Bazler took a deep whiff of the aromas flooding the kitchen. "That smells really nice. Feels like forever since I've eaten anything savoury. Pride tastes like... erm..."

"Grapes?"

"Little bit."

Vance turned the leg so that it got an even cook all around. "Yeah. We keep spices around for the humans in this place. They cook with them but most of the demons around here just munch down on the food raw."

"You don't? I mean Mal and I tore down one of the Proudbark Cattle raw. It was still twitching." He made a face. "Come to think of it, it was the same in King's army... Never anything for taste. Just eat."

It was funny that he was only realising just how... different demonic culture was compared to human. As someone who basically stood between both worlds, he could compare them and wondered why he never noticed the differences before. Then again, given the level of his culinary skills, it was little wonder he had never taken much effort into cooking.

"This probably won't be the best thing ever cooked in the Pridelands," he said, taking the leg out of the fire. He set it down on the marble table, letting it cool. It had a beautiful golden brown colour all around and some of the skin had gotten quite crispy. The spices in the air had a strong, savoury taste and he could still sense the pride emanating from it. "But I'm willing to try new things."

"Is that why you took a chance on me?" Bazler asked. "I mean, I did attack you guys and you knew I worked for King."

Vance laughed softly and used his claws to tear out a large chunk of the meat. It was a little stringy and he worried that he had overcooked it. "Believe it or not, it was because of what a certain someone said to me." He took a bite out of the meat. The surface and skin was very flavourful but the meat itself was a little bland. It just reeked of pride which clashed with the savouriness of the seasonings.

Bazler took a bite himself and his eyes lit up. "Hey, not bad."

"Could use work, though," Vance murmured, taking another bite. "The pride taste is a little off putting."

"A Pride Demon is saying that the taste of pride is off putting? Now I've seen everything."

He shared Bazler's laugh and regarded the meat. "I dunno. I guess we can't deny the nutritional value of the meat but you got to make it taste good too. I mean, I was a personal trainer back on Earth. I knew that people didn't like guzzling down raw eggs or having bland meals full of protein. You got to spice it up a little. Make them want to eat it."

Bazler regarded the large chunk of meat. "So is that what you're aiming for here? Food that's good for Pride Demons but also tastes good?"

"Why not? I mean I've got the winery open which I'm trying to use to make a kickass drink that has the same properties as Mal's medicine but doesn't taste like... well... medicine."

"Proudbrew?"

Vance's eyebrows rose. "How'd you know?"

Bazler averted his gaze. "Well... reason why I abandoned King is that the other guy that I was with, Jurethaz, was going to kill me for nourishment so he can go back to King to report. Then these two guys came and saved me. One was this big guy. Dressed in nothing but armour and had these wires sticking out of his back that just ended up in nowhere."

"Wires?" Vance repeated, inclining his head to the side. "You sure you're not thinking about chains?"

"No. That's the other guy. He had chains that were shaped like wings. Name was R3 the Writer of Reality."

There were two No Ones here? Vance didn't know what that meant but it filled him with worry.

"They saved me," Bazler said, either ignoring or not noticing Vance's concern. "Gave me a wineskin and told me that there was a guy in this place that was going to make an amazing drink and call it Proudbrew."

"Did he tell you what was in it?"

Bazler shook his head. "He said that you'd mix some of the stuff Mal makes with some hellfruit juice and add your own little touch to make it."

'His own little touch'?

Vance was about to ask for more information when a thought entered his mind. "No..." he began, shaking his had. "He wouldn't... He doesn't mean..." Then he groaned as he began to realise exactly what R3 had meant the 'secret ingredient' was. "Oh fuck me..."

"What's wrong?" Bazler asked.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Vance said, "You know what Proudbrew tastes like, right?"

"Yeah. Lived off the stuff for a week. Why?"

"Could you come with me for a second? I think I know what goes into it now."

Bazler agreed and Vance told his son that he was heading back to the winery for an hour or so. Mal told him to take care but without leaving his room. Vance would've asked for a hug at the very least but for the moment he was preoccupied with the 'secret ingredient' in Proudbrew.

He and Bazler returned to the winery which was mostly dark. They brought a few torches that were alight with purple hellfire and lit the lamps around the building. Like the unnatural kitchen of the cabin, the winery was vastly different from any equivalent on earth. Large wooden vats were erected all over the area with ramps leading up to their rumps. A large grated plate sat atop each tank. There were taps wedged into the base of each vat to filter the juices into any barrels.

Vance picked up a large container of hellfruit that he had managed to pick earlier in the day and Bazler did the same. They carried it to the top of the only silo that Vance had managed to clean properly.

"I don't see any squeezing machines or anything..." Bazler said, looking around. "Are we just meant to push the fruit through the grates?"

"That's what I thought too," Vance said. "But then I realised we _are_the squeezers."

He got a puzzled look from Bazler for that. "Huh?"

Vance piled some hellfruit on top of the grate. None of the dark fruit fell through as the grates were simply too small. Then, he carefully wound himself around the pile, his serpentine coils slowly constricting around the pile. He slowly began to constrict the fruit against his coils, feeling the juices seeping down his scales and into the vat below. He had never really used his lower muscles for anything but moving before and it was the first time he actually felt the abilities of his alien body as he squeezed the juices out of the pile of fruit. He got a good amount of hellfruit juice out of it but it was still a miniscule amount compared to the rest of the vat.

"Chuck more some my way, will you?" he asked.

Bazler complied and created another pile for him. Once Vance was done with his first pile, he moved to the other. Bazler cleaned off the discarded fruit skins and seeds before creating yet another pile for him. They worked in tandem rather well. Vance squeezed and Bazler cleaned and created piles. After only thirty minutes, they had run out of hellfruit.

"That should be enough," Vance said, taking an offered towel from Bazler and wiping his lower half. "Now we just need to add some of Mal's medicine."

Bazler said that he would get some from the clinic and was off heading out of the winery. Vance in the meantime began filling a barrel with some of the juice. Doubts flew around his mind again but he pushed such thoughts out of his mind for the moment.

"Nothing ventured, nothing gained," he told himself.

Bazler returned a short while later with a few vials of Mal's medicine. Vance thanked him and poured one vial into the collected hellfruit juice. Then he tasted it. It was good. Had the fruity sustenance of hellfruit but still had that awful twang and aftertaste of medicine that made spine shiver and fur writhe.

"No good?" Bazler asked.

"Doesn't have the secret ingredient yet," Vance said.

"Right. What is it?"

Vance swallowed hard. "Well... I think... Erm... I think it's my cum..."

Bazler recoiled. "You're kidding me, right?"

"I don't know!" Vance shouted, throwing his paws into the air. "Seriously, we've both been turned into demons and there's a guy who brought back a drink from the future telling me that I'm meant to make it! That's the best I could come up with!"

The other demon sniggered. "Heh... Cum up with..."

"Grow up..." Vance stared miserably at the open barrel of his concoction. "Look, if you don't mind. I'm going to jack off and mix some of my cum into this thing to see if it'll do anything. Thanks for your help. I'll bring you some of it when I'm done."

Suddenly, Bazler's meaty arms wrapped around his waist, his fingers gently teasing Vance's genital slit. "Why don't I help you?"

"No... Wait... Seriosuly?"

Bazler gave him a little smile and nuzzled his neck. The contact sent shivers down Vance's spine but the proximity of Bazler's warm chest soothed the gentle shaking. "I still have to thank you properly for saving me. And like you said..." He lifted his muzzle to Vance's ear. "My name is 'BJ'."

Vance moaned softly and Bazler took that as a sign to proceed.

The younger demon's tongue gently lapped at Vance's ears. A soft rumbling emerging from Vance's throat and his crotch as his cocks began to stir. Despite being young, Bazler was surprisingly skilled with his paws as they roamed Vance's body, gently brushing against his nipples. Vance found his precum already leaking out of his slit, soaking into his crotch fur and filling the winery with his particular musk. Bazler expertly wrapped his coils around Vance's body to stabilise himself.

A series of gentle licks on Vance's neck caused the bigger of the demons to moan and arch his neck away, exposing more of the thick flesh for Bazler to adore. King's former soldier eagerly lapped at the corded muscle, focusing particularly on the thick vein that fed blood into Vance's hormone driven mind.

Vance instinctively bucked his hips and quivered as the sensitive tips of his dick began pushing through the folds of his genital slit. Bazler's paws instantly found them and gave them a quick squeeze. A soft whimper left Vance's lips and he bit his lower lip while trying to keep himself for smiling too much. He didn't want Bazler to see just how much he was enjoying this. It just felt... wrong but felt so good.

Then Bazler's lips found his left nipple and he gasped.

Even Mal had never been this playful. It was usually just to business with his son but this... this wasn't just a blowjob. This was...

"Are... Are we making love...?" he muttered.

Bazler instantly stopped and reeled his head back. "I... Uh..." He swallowed hard, his eyes wide. Then he averted his gaze. "Look, I just met you... But I'm going to admit that no one has ever taken a chance on me before. Not even my parents. I ain't gonna say I love you or anything but I wanted to thank you."

Vance offered a wry smile and nodded, allowing Bazler to proceed. The younger demon lapped at his nipples, the heat in his body rising incredibly with arousal. A moan left his lips as he picked his hips, cocks rubbing against Bazler's paws. Within moments, Vance's two, monstrous two foot canine cocks were fully erect and rubbing against Bazler's own members. Clearly, the other demon was enjoying the contact as much as Vance.

Now primed and erect, Bazler removed himself from Vance's nipple and began layering a few licks along the former personal trainer's rippling abdominals. He made a few laps with his tongue around Vance's navel before burying his muzzle in between Vance's two dicks. He looked up at Vance for approval and both demons smiled at one another coyly.

Vance found his muzzle had gone dry with anticipation and he knew exactly how to cure that. He gently cupped Bazler's confused muzzle and pulled it towards his own. He pressed their noses together just to test the water, just to make sure that Bazler was alright with this contact. When the other demon didn't oppose him, he brushed his tongue against Bazler's lips. He was surprised when Bazler's own tongue made contact with his own.

A flood of emotions blossomed out from both of them and they locked muzzles. Both males moaned and tossed aside all restraint. They fell upon the ground, coils thrashing around one another and cocks madly intertwined, the heat from both sets of dicks stimulating the other. Their arms wrapped around one another's broad shoulders and Vance sought to explore every inch of Bazler's strong form with his fingers alone from those broad, rounded deltoids, the thick traps that left a perfect valley for his spine and then to the hard lower back that melded into the muscled coils that were wrapped around him.

He hadn't been this intimate with anyone for a long time and it felt like his heart was about to burst from his chest.

"What the hell!?"

Bazler suddenly broke the kiss panting and his eyes wide in shock and they both turned towards the door.

There stood Mallory, eyes wide in shock.

"Mal!" Vance exclaimed. "I -"

"This is why you wanted to go out by yourself?" Mal demanded, approaching them both. "What? You think I was too busy to fuck or get fucked?"

Vance frowned. "No! I... we... I was trying to make a new drink and I thought it needed some of my cum. Bazler was just going to help me... erm..."

Mal rolled his eyes. "Fine. Baz, you take one dick, I got the other."

Bazler grinned and gave him a salute. "As you say, Supreme Meister."

Vance's eyes widened in shock. "W - W - Wait!"

But he didn't have a say in the matter. Before he knew what was happening, Mal's strong coils were wrapping around his shoulders, constricting his arms. Bazler's own tail snapped around his lower half, pinning it down. Then, both young demons were assaulting his dicks with their muzzles, lavishing it with licks and loving strokes.

Vance moaned, his entire body quaking in pleasure. With a paw now free, Bazler reached for Vance's nipple and gave it a strong tweak. Vance let out a roar and thrust his hips into the air, a jet of precum shooting out of his dick and landing in the barrel of his Proudbrew. Seeing the effect this had on his father, Mallory lifted his paw for his dad to see and levelled it at Vance's remaining nipple. Vance shook his head, begging his son to stop but he was powerless. The moment that bolt of pleasure and pain rocketed up his chest, Vance let out another roar and his dicks burst in joy.

The raw emotion bubbling in Vance was like nothing he had felt before. This was not just some feeding or obligation, this was real lovemaking. Mal and Bazler both had their bodies curled around him, their dicks pressed up against his fur and scales of their own volition. He could feel the strength of their souls pulsating from their bodies and seeping into his own. Every muscle in his body drank in this strength and he was thrown into a state of perpetual bliss.

A deep rumble rose from his throat and his body began to shake violently. Bazler and Mal were both entranced by Vance's power that they began moving and adjusting for a change that neither of them understood but subconsciously anticipated. The power flooding Vance caused every muscle in his body to go rigid and he instinctively sat up, flexing his biceps in a double bicep curl. His fangs were clenched tightly as the energy flooding his body reached critical mass.

"Aaaaaaaah fuuuuuuuuck!" he roared. His eyes rolled into the back of his head as he became lost entirely in the sensations overtaking his entire body.

His spine rocketed upwards adding a whole foot to his already impressive height. Muscles formed in the new space, two large, square pectorals blossoming into the existence beneath his first complete with their own set of fleshy nubs for nipples. His body was jerked to the left momentarily as large mound of muscle grew on his flank, just beside his new pectoral. A second mound grew on his right, balancing him once more. From that mound, flesh began to extend and grow, muscles, bone and sinewy forming into powerful biceps and triceps followed by a big, meaty forearm. He grunted loudly, hips bucking as a new pair of paws topped off his new arms, each finger that emerged greeted with a firework display of precum shooting from his ever-growing dicks.

Vance flexed his new limbs, letting out a tremendous roar that shook the entire winery. Driven by instinct and adoring the power of the bigger demon, both Vance and Bazler curled around their patron, ravishing his nipples and suckling from them like pups feeding. Vance was completely driven by instinct as well as he curled his upper arms around what he was quickly registering as his 'sons' and held them in place. At the same time, his lower paws reached towards his dicks, now an incredible two and a half feet long erect and guided them towards the anal slits of the two smaller demons.

Whatever reservations either male had about being fucked were gone. Even Bazler's trauma of having died as a result of rape vanished in the warm, protective embrace of Vance. He willingly let his tail get stuffed with the huge canine puppy maker and felt a sense of completeness was through him. He let out a gasp, mirrored by Mal as they were both flooded with Vance's hot precum.

"FUUUUUUCK!" Vance roared and he suddenly exploded into both boys.

But something else entered them than just his seed. Soul strengthened by the exchange, Vance's very essence funnelled into Both Bazler and Mal through his dicks. Wave after wave of cum shot into the two smaller demons and so did a portion of his soul. Neither of the boys rejected the gift and they willingly took it into themselves, feeling the strength of the extremely resilient soul pump through their veins.

Mal grunted and was the first of the two to shoot his load, his twin dicks creaming his father's massive, muscular chest and sending a waterfall of cum cascading down the two sets of thick pectorals and impressive ten-pack-abdominals. Taking the lead of his new 'brother', Bazler shot his load as well, his cum joining with Mal's to coat Vance in a warm, wet embrace.

The three demon's collapsed back onto the ground, quaking and shaking, lower bodies thrashing as they covered the winery's floor with their seed.

In his passion, Vance grabbed Mal's head and pressed their lips together, moaning loudly as their tongues danced. Mal took the opportunity to push some of the energy overflowing through him into his father, carrying some of his soul into Vance. The touch of Mal's soul with his own only reinforced Vance's conviction to protect and love his son. Vance then turned to his new 'son' and Bazler was already there, waiting with his lips open and hungry for his kiss. Their lips met and just like with Mal, Bazler offered some of his soul to Vance, completing their union.

All three demons celebrated their new bond with yet another burst of seed. Neither Bazler nor Mal could take more of their father's cum and had to pull their tails away from Vance. As a result, Vance's huge dicks shot his seed high into the air, splattering against the high ceiling of the winery. Like a big, white, sticky fireworks shot, the twin streams erupted in a star shaped formation before raining back down all around them.

Vance let out a soft moan as he began to regain control once more of his bodily functions. His eyelids fluttered, revealing his new, bright blue irises, no longer tainted by red. Even though he could actually see his surroundings, it took him a whole five minutes to register that he was lying in a pool of his own seed, had a new pair of arms and had both Mal and Bazler clutching to him, both exhausting from their passionate lovemaking session.

"Oh fuck..." he moaned.

"You can say that again," muttered Bazler, nuzzling Vance's chest affectionately. He frowned a little. "I feel.. weird..." He was looking directly at Mal. "I don't... I don't understand it but... It feels right. This feels right..."

Mal returned the frown. "I think... I think I'm in love with you." He turned his gaze at Vance. "Both of you."

Vance searched his feelings and found himself incapable of denying the statement. He just clutched his two 'sons' closer to him. "Whatever," he grunted. "I promise I'll protect and care for both of you. Whatever happened to us, I don't care. This feels right and I'm not letting it go."

Bazler laughed softly and squirmed in Vance's superior grip. "You might have to, 'dad'. You still need to make your drink."

Vance groaned but kept his grip on the two boys. "Let's just stay here for a little longer, okay?"

******

When morning came, Vance needed both Mal and Baz's help to clean up. He had borne the brunt of their session and both his sons needed to wash his fur and scales free of the cum they had deposited on him. Now being phenomenally bigger than both of them, it was a bit of a chore especially since their paws rubbing all of his large, muscled form stimulated his dick. He resisted pulling them into another passionate session, however, despite knowing he could very well do it.

He got a strange feeling, seeing the mess he had made and the bond he had created with these two boys. It was... pride in himself. And he knew it was what made him stronger. As Mal and Baz headed off to wash the towels that they used to clean him off, he remembered the Proudbrew that he was supposed to have made and wandered over to the barrel. It was a miracle he hadn't knocked it over in last night's passions.

The brew had turned the same light lavender colour as the tea that R3 had offered him. Before it had been dark purple and now, he guessed, that with some of his seed added, it had turned a little more milky. He didn't feel any dread anymore at the potential of failure for his concoction. Whether or not he succeeded in his creation didn't matter. He did had his sons.

Sons.

It fit. Bazler and Mal were he sons now.

He grabbed a cup, having to hold it rather daintily as it was a little too small for him, and dipped it into the barrel. He dipped the miniscule amount into his muzzle, swirled it around to get all its flavours and swallowed.

"That's it!" he exclaimed.

"And all you had to do was find pride in yourself, do aside with all your doubt and make sweet, sweet love to two other demons."

He glanced over to where R3 was standing a short distance away, not one, but two silver and purple spears in his hands.

"Could've have done it without you," Vance admitted.

"I certainly hope this will not be the end of your ambitions."

Vance beamed. "Oh hell no! I'm going to get this stuff packaged and distributed all over town! I got to get this place up and running again!" He spread all four of his arms to indicate the winery. "And hey, now I have another son that'll help run the 'family business', so to speak! Oh! And I've got to teach these demons how to enjoy their food and not just scarf it down!"

"A noble goal," R3 responded with a nod. He stepped forward and offered the spears to Vance. "These are yours."

The demon frowned as he regarded the weapons. "What? Really?" He took the weapons which, he only noticed now, fit his build perfectly. How R3 held them so deftly was a mystery to him. "Thank you..."

"They're built from the hellfruit skins that have been tempered and lacquered and then wrapped around metal infused with three opposing and yet complimenting forms of pride; pride in one's self, pride in one's choices and of course, pride in others. They are collectively known as Honour Bound."

"Honour Bound," Vance repeated, regarding the spears with a grin. "I love it."

"I knew you would." R3 dusted his hands theatrically. "Well, that is it for me. Do you have any questions?"

"Actually, yeah," Vance responded. "Last night when Mal, Baz and I... erm... Fucked. What happened to us? I feel... I feel them inside of me. Like... they're part of me... I can sort of feel them all the time. I get inklings of what they're feeling and I feel whole whenever they're nearby."

"Ah," R3 responded accompanied with that hidden smile of his. "That is the Soul Binding ritual. Demons of this universe may experience it when they find someone that they truly feel connected with. Put simply, their very souls yearn to be with that person and as a result, the demons exchange fragments of their souls, forever binding themselves to one another. Think of it as the demonic equivalent of marriage though instead of rings and vows, you exchange parts of your soul."

"Oh... Oh wow." Vance let out a short laugh. "So I married my son and a guy I basically just met. My wife would have a heart attack..."

"Aneurism, actually."

Vance went rigid. "What? She didn't -"

R3 tapped the side of his helmet. "My eyes are far from decorative, you know. I can see into all possibilities and all realities. There are realities in which she does meet you and in a good number of them, she suffers from an aneurism and dies."

He grimaced. "And in the others?"

"Something you best not concern yourself about. There is no need to worry about alternate realities. Just worry about yours. This is your life, Vance Jenkins. Be proud of it. Be proud of yourself and who you've become. You don't need validation of your existence from anyone else or any other reality."

The doors to the winery opened as Mal and Baz returned. When he looked back to R3, the No One was gone.

"Yeah," he murmured to himself. "I'll do that."

******

"You've set the foundations for a civilisation to be built at the aftermath of war," D8 the Derelict said softly. "You've started to introduce culture back into what was effectively a single-minded society." The No One chuckled softly. "On one side of the war, we have the King who represents what Hell was. A place where humans are sources of food and eventually turned into demons while other demons fight amongst one another for superiority."

"And on the other we have a budding civilisation designed to last through the ages with the basis of culture already taking root," R3 responded. "We have the exchange of knowledge and the drive to learn more from young Mallory. Then we have the desire for refinement and exploration in Vance. Not to mention Bazler's drive to better himself."

"They are still severely outnumbered and outgunned, however." D8 turned towards R3 from where they stood on a small grassy knoll looking at the sanctuary. "Even with those weapons you gave them, they will be unable to defeat King's army especially at the rate he is creating his Kingsguard."

"I am aware."

"Just say the word, R3, and I will decimate them."

The Writer of Reality waved a hand absently at his colleague. "Now, now, D8. Have a little faith. We want them to be able to stand on their own not to have us as a crutch."

"So what do you plan?"

R3 chuckled softly. "One of the failings of pride is the paranoia that comes with attempting to keep it from crumbling. Three-way Soul Bonds are extremely rare and the exchange generates some of the most powerful demons in all existence. King is well aware of this fact and is, by now, aware of Vance, Bazler and Mal's bond. Coupled with the 'deaths' of his recent troops I'm sure he's worried by now."

D8 let out a short laugh. "Ah, I see. And here I thought I was going to sit here watching as you empowered each of H2's little projects with your own little touch before you had them assault King."

"Give me a little more credit, D8."

R3 turned towards the west. Large, black dots were making their way across the grassy planes of the Pridelands.

"After all, what is a story without a little conflict?"