== VORTEX QUEST 3-3 ==
== ASHES TO ASHES ==
Zooming above the sands in Ardor's tiny boat, Chay was painfully aware of the vessel's weak points. A few well directed kicks and even his barely enhanced strength could have made it crash and that wasn't even mentioning the drift engine's fairly lose attachment to the soul gem at the leftmost proto-arcane injector.
He tried to lean back and relax. Getting demon-fucked always left him a weird mix of riled up and unwound.
His skin was slick against his friends'. The zipping boat was quite crammed with two large demons on the center table, the Aeobold at the rudder console and the demigods leaning on struts at the front. The Glooper had oozed into the underslung engine space.
The demons were having some kind of leaky blood sausage that made Chay's stomach churn. Bones crunched in their mouths.
The demigods had gotten bota bags full of water and Chay gladly cooled down his insides.
"I really can't think of a way," Ardor said, wiping blood off his chin, "to find the Wandering Oasis. When I need to reach it on purpose, it takes me days of drifting up near the realm separation layer."
"Is there a pattern to its movement?" Chay asked.
"Yes, but that's a matter of decades. Unless you're incredibly lucky I fear finding the vortex, haha... It would almost be easier to flip the whole..." The fallen angle chuckled to himself, then his face fell into deep contemplation, then quick shock. His eyes met a confused, then amazed Tfeccan.
Chay analyzed. They had realized the same thing. Something that was obvious but considered impossible.
"The king's preference?" the umbralist guessed. "Make King Vaagh'tang flip from desert to ocean and the whole vortex things becomes moot?"
The demons -- and demigods -- stared at him. Even the lizard at the helm turned his way.
"Galant told me you're the smart one," the Nephil said. "Yes, if Hakkri becomes disfavored far ahead of schedule, the chaos would kill the vortex project and probably a few important champions."
He looked up at the 'sky' where foam whirls drifted like clouds. Night fell and the nearest sun shone blinding light on the ship as it swiveled upward, lighting up the other half of the realm, its dark side to the sand.
"Every cycle," Ardor said, "some people try to usher the flip in early. The other side would like to be preferred, so they're willing to offer deals and treaties to anyone speeding up the process. It's rarely more than a matter of decades and the next flip won't happen for a few hundred years."
"Can you introduce us to the interested parties?" Chay asked.
The Wretcher nodded on behalf of the fallen angel. "The revolution," he said, fangs flashing in his bat snout.
Chay rolled his eyes. "As in 'rebelling' and in 'cycling'. Funny how that works in Pandemonic, too. So you know those guys?"
The Fiend scratched his chin. "As soon as we're home, I'll send word."
===***===
A tower of dead coral pierced the land of Hakkri like a structurally implausible skyscraper. Chay had been on the empire state building once. This tower was barley shorter but not even half as thick.
Large parts of the pale, organically patterned pylon were serrated edges and windy holes, leaving little surface as living space.
The boat docked, quickly secured by two Goblins in patterned kilts, overseen by a Hellion whose skullhead was fully covered by a spiky helmet. He was swinging a whip but didn't hit them, and their green, lean bodies showed no marks.
Chay tried to puzzle out their loyalties and roles in case the pantheon needed to fight their way out of Ardor's stronghold.
The place was no less strange than the cave-castles of other lords but much more airy, with a warm breeze and even light making it through the dried coral leaves. The main room contained the throne where Ardor sat down to read. Gomes carried a tray of bubbling liquids to him.
The demigods found a place on mats along a wall where slaves rested. The pantheon fit in just fine among the buff humans with very short hair or none.
Two were catatonic shades, one seemed pretty aware but scared, another was chained to the ground, drooling, masturbating, nose sparkling with unicorn dust.
"Are we good?" Goro asked.
"Far as I can tell," Chay said. "They're honest about flipping the world upside-fucking-down. Demons always have a dozen schemes running, mostly against each other."
"Good enough," Marcus said. "I'm gonna drop."
Chay got to take a well-deserved nap.
He woke up horny.
That wasn't unusual but in the abyss the horniness was a different beast, making his dick claw at his brain. The urge to pointlessly hump the floor like a rabid freak was always part of the wakeup call.
The demigods were fingering each other's holes before they had even opened their eyes. Piss drinking followed, to quench the curse-thirst.
Goro opened the foam-gourd and they seamlessly transitioned into a fisting orgy. Marcus sprayed glitter on the slaves' faces and the sleepily fisting pantheon was surrounded by masturbating hunks like a nectar vision come to life.
The beauty of getting punched in the ass by Goro while arm-penetrating Xane woke Chay up better than his usual cup of mate, jog, shower, and -- when he had a girlfriend -- morning fuck.
Licking cum off random slaves' abs and thighs was exactly as gross as he had feared. He saw Goro deep throat a black guy's whole dick, mumbled "fuck it", and licked the jizz-covered shaft of some buff Frenchman. He was grateful the slaves were barely conscious.
Chay's lightly glowing crotch flared up and the junior Wretcher floated into the room.
Tfeccus folded his white bat wings as the demigods hurried into their fundoshi.
"Fuck," Marcus said. "Where's my thong?"
"Slave's sitting on it," Goro said and pushed a man over.
Chay involuntarily moaned as the fabric touched his sensitive hole. His whole body was still in fisting mode with the afterglow of whole-body pleasure ripples.
"My contacts were receptive," Tfeccus said, arms folded. "You can join the revolution." Marcus wooed. "But they want proof of your abilities. You won't take the regular entrance, but an ancient, blockaded one. Make it inside and you're accepted."
"Sounds doable," Chay said, forcing authority into his voice. "Let's go, guys."
The Wretcher led them to the tower rim. There was a brief debate about using Xane's butterflies for flight but the entrance to the Revolutionary Academy was close by.
