The two incarnations of the Counter Force were now nestled against him on either side, like fledglings returning to their nest.
Meek, yet greedily clinging to him.
There was no trace left of their former lofty, cold and indifferent demeanor.
But this wasn't just a simple dependence born from surface-level conquest.
That kind of pleasure was certainly intense—
enough to make a Counter Force that had never experienced such direct sensory impact lose itself for a time, but it was not the essence of what had changed.
The real transformation was happening on a much deeper level.
Rei Ao's very existence was like the most overbearing dye, or like the highest-grade memetic contamination,
invading deeply into the core of their being as the incarnations of the Counter Force.
Alaya, the aggregate of humanity's collective unconscious—
in essence, a convergence and abstract codification of countless human thoughts, desires, and fears.
Rei Ao's existence, however, was a manifestation of life and will far beyond anything she could comprehend.
When his existence was injected into the core of the Counter Force,
it wasn't a simple overwriting or destruction.
It was a higher-order contamination and reshaping.
Into that vast, orderly yet ice-cold sea of human collective consciousness, a set of primary colors carrying absolute will was forcibly poured.
Those colors spread rapidly—not diluted, but asserting their absolute quality.
That will began to assimilate and integrate the surrounding information and rules,
branding them with its own mark.
Alaya could feel that her originally non-human core, which had existed purely as a defensive device for human history,
was being given a brand-new, vivid individuality.
The anchor point of her existence was no longer just the hazy human collective unconscious, but was firmly fixed and entangled with Rei Ao—this concrete, overwhelmingly powerful existence.
Her connection to him surpassed even the contract between a Heroic Spirit and a Master.
It felt more like a belonging and dependence rooted at the level of the Root itself.
Gaia's situation was similar, yet not identical.
As the incarnation of the planet's will,
her existence was tightly bound to the concept of the planet itself, to natural cycles, to the systems of life—more material and system-like.
To her, Rei Ao's existence was like a suddenly connected external power source and control system whose output was beyond imagination.
His power directly intervened in the foundations of her being.
Not by destroying the planet's rules,
but by, in a way she could not understand, opening a top-priority administrator permission within her system
and redirecting the main logic of her "program" itself
toward serving and relying on that administrator.
She could still feel the planet, but there was now an extra layer of filtration between them—
and at the core of that filter was Rei Ao's will.
On top of her former purpose of sustaining the planet,
her existence had gained an even more direct, higher-priority directive—Rei Ao.
Put simply, they had been converted.
From high, inhuman maintainers of the world's rules (in manifested form),
they had been forcibly transformed by Rei Ao's absolute power and existential nature into something closer to Heroic Spirits or subordinate deities belonging to him.
Rei Ao had not become a Master in the traditional sense.
But the bond he had formed with them, in its tightness and absoluteness, far exceeded any contract between Master and Servant.
He had become one of the meanings and pillars of their existence—
and the one with the highest priority.
Alaya and Gaia lay in Rei Ao's arms, greedily drinking in his scent.
Not only because of lingering desire or simple attachment,
but because his scent—his very presence—
now acted like the magical power source and stabilizing anchor that sustained their new forms.
It filled them with a sense of fullness, security, and a strange satisfaction:
the feeling, for the first time, of being individuals protected and possessed by a mighty existence.
Alaya raised her head slightly.
Her purple eyes shimmered with a watery sheen.
She couldn't help rubbing her cheek against him.
Gaia was quieter.
But her emerald eyes never left Rei Ao's profile,
and the way her fingers played with a lock of his hair carried a careful, almost reverent tenderness.
However—
when their gazes involuntarily shifted past him to the other side,
that freshly rising sense of contentment and peace was quietly tinged with another emotion.
Tiamat.
The Mother of Creation.
Was at that moment lying on her side in an even more relaxed pose, almost lazily seductive.
Her indigo hair spilled out like seaweed.
The curves of her body, wrapped only in a veil like starlit nebulae, were breathtaking,
glowing with a pearly sheen beneath the soft lights.
Unlike the newly cleared gazes of Alaya and Gaia,
Tiamat's deep indigo eyes still held a dense, unspent haze of intoxication, satiated languor, and drowsy pleasure.
A lovely blush colored her cheeks.
There was a faint, satisfied smile at the corner of her lips.
Her fingers were idly twirling something—her movements intimate and natural,
as if she had done this countless times before.
More importantly, Alaya and Gaia could clearly feel the presence radiating from Tiamat's body.
It was strikingly different from their own.
Not just because Tiamat's status as a goddess of creation was inherently higher,
but because the bond between Tiamat and Rei Ao
seemed deeper, more stable, and filled with a kind of living dynamism.
It was as though Tiamat had already fully completed some sort of adaptation.
Her existence and Rei Ao's presence blended together seamlessly,
even faintly complementing each other.
A strange, sour twinge of envy quietly rose in Alaya's and Gaia's hearts.
Alaya pursed her small lips.
Her purple eyes fixed on Tiamat's languid, satisfied posture,
then dropped to her own petite body—
and for the first time, she felt a hint of… dissatisfaction
with this vessel the Counter Force had so carefully crafted for her, in theory perfectly matching the concept of a young girl.
Or perhaps it was more like… a sense of not being enough?
"Mm…"
Unable to help herself, she let out a small, disgruntled sound.
She buried her face even more firmly into the hollow of Rei Ao's neck, her muffled voice carrying a trace of barely noticeable grievance and frustration.
"We're… too weak…"
Gaia didn't speak,
but the light in her emerald eyes dimmed for a moment.
Her arms around Rei Ao's arm tightened ever so slightly.
She recalled the helplessness of drawing on the planet's power only to be easily bound,
and then compared it to Tiamat's seemingly bottomless depths, which could even resonate with Rei Ao's strength.
A clear understanding surfaced in her heart.
Even after being transformed, even after forming such a profound bond with Rei Ao, the power and capacity they currently possessed were still vastly inferior to Tiamat's.
Which meant that what they could withstand, could answer, could offer to Rei Ao… was still far too limited.