Bonus: Goldie’s Compassion

Some time ago, beneath the celestial vault of Ky'lar, while the light of the twin moons filtered through the leaves like a veil of cold silk, the silence of the night was devoured by a cacophony of activities that Mireya, in his infinite capacity for denial, had simply decided to ignore in an act of escapism.

"Hey, Raina... What do you think about using something like compression and condensation in this scenario?"

At the center of this bubble of domestic stasis, Mireya remained absorbed, his gaze fixed on the hypnotic glow of his console.

"It’s more complex than it looks, isn't it...?"

For him, at that moment, his attention was focused on the "Incursion of Sin" event as he communicated with Raina, offering advice on creative ways to use her power.

"... Hey, brother... Isn't he doing something incredible...?" (Whisper)

".... Just be quiet and keep going with the massage." (Whisper)

At his sides, the bodies of the two princesses of the fallen Valerius Empire, Helen and Yuriel—now priestesses whose bodies harbored the twisted souls of Ubel and Desmos—remained in a vigil of extreme servitude, offering their laps and shoulders with a devotion bordering on the pathological, while Mireya remained oblivious and unconscious of it all.

(Vrrrrrr—shhhhh!)

In parallel, just a few meters away, the atmosphere vibrated with the ashen hiss of the Gray Flames.

("... I can do it")

There, Silver, the small silver armor, was locked in an ontological duel against the divine stone.

"I can do it."

Therefore, taking on human form, her hands covered in metal gauntlets traced arcs of spectral energy, performing conceptual surgery to grant kinetic life to the cold marble of the fallen goddesses.

(Zing! — Fwoooo!)

It was a dance of absolute precision, an attempt to awaken divinity without erasing its existence in the process.

("KLANG—drrr... KLANG—drrr...")

However, in parallel, from the depths of the inn, the sound of expanding gears and adjusting metal plates echoed from the ground, indicating that the living structure was ceasing to be a building and becoming an optimized war fortress as Brownie fused with it.

("♪♬ ♩~")

But at the same time, behind all the events occurring simultaneously, the small doll of golden straw floated in a corner of elongated shadows, humming an inaudible melody that seemed to mark the rhythm of a macabre assembly line.

("... Next.")

And with a fluid movement devoid of inertia, Goldie turned toward the mountain of vibrantly colored objects that Melioris had confiscated.

("...")

There, hundreds of consciousnesses trapped in silicone and perverse magic waited, vibrating with impatience, expectant of what the straw doll was preparing to do.

("... I will help... everyone... please... wait...")

In response, Goldie’s gaze, composed of simple threads and stitching, scanned the inventory of disgraced souls with the intention of helping.

("... Melioris said... put this... here...")

The small doll of golden straw floated just a few centimeters above the ground with movements that were somewhat clumsy and hesitant, in contrast to her determination, as she held one of the skin-suits from the women rescued during the "Kylien Incident," diligently fulfilling the task she had been assigned.

("... It’s scary... but... I must help.")

Goldie did not possess the malice required to understand the perverse nature of the objects she was handling, nor the experience to know what she was actually creating.

("... Now... your turn... please...")

In her mind, which was even younger and more malleable than Silver's, there existed only the desire to be useful and to comply with the instructions that had been etched into her.

("?")

Therefore, despite it being the first time Goldie had attempted something like this, she moved forward with infinite patience and a silent fear of making a mistake and disappointing her "family."

("... You... strong.")

Because of that, with determination, she continued while her button eyes glowed with a golden light in reaction to picking up the masturbator that contained Clotilda’s essence.

(Mm-gii...)

As a result, the warrior's consciousness, trapped in the form of rubber and silicone, vibrated imperceptibly at the straw doll's touch.

(«Help me!» «Get me out of here!» «I don't want to be this!»)

To the rest of the world, the masturbators in the mountain were just inanimate objects of shiny silicone, but to Goldie, the silence was a roar of broken voices.

("... I will help you.")

The voices of Clotilda and the other thirty warriors—selected from the hundreds Melioris had confiscated at the time—struck Goldie’s straw chest, resonating in her hybrid core with the force of an ancestral lamento.

("... I'm coming.")

Because of that, despite her best attempts to stay productive, the little golden doll stopped her humming, and her button eyes dampened with a compassionate light.

("Slowly... Goldie will help.")

Because of that, Goldie moved with an efficiency that bordered on the mechanical, even though her small straw joints emitted a slight creak of fatigue.

(Shhhhhhh-luuuuuuup!)

Thanks to this, the mountain of hundreds of objects had been drastically reduced to just thirty remaining, due to her tireless work.

("... Hold on. Almost... almost there.")

She had spent hours merging the essences of warriors with the skin-suits recovered from all sorts of operations, among which Goldie remembered the mention of a delivery by the Society of Fallen Angels that Echidna had shared with Lilith during her training to become a heroine.

(Creeeeeeak! — Ssssttttttch!)

However, regaining her senses after a brief pause, for Goldie, the work would not end until the last scream ceased.

("... One... saved.")

Because of that, Goldie took the schoolgirl skin-suit, one of the many discreetly recovered items that had been silently collected and stored for later use, yearning to be inhabited once more.

("... Twenty-nine.")

In her mind, the last thirty voices still resonated like a piercing echo.

("... Mama... I want... a hug...")

Thus, Goldie took the schoolgirl skin-suit, one of the many recovered by the Fallen Angels, and as she spread it out, she took the masturbator containing Clotilda to insert it inside.

(Creeeeeeak! — Ssssttttttch!)

The action generated a friction sound, like a symphony of suction and stretching, while the schoolgirl’s skin expanded unnaturally, adapting to the warrior's dense "silicone musculature."

(Mmmgh! — Fffffff-tah! — Nnnngh!! )

As a result, Clotilda’s mental scream turned into a physical exhalation of compressed air as her senses reconnected with the outside world.

(Zip! Zap! Snap!)

In turn, Goldie, with her straw fingers flying over invisible seams, sealed the union.

(Ssssttttch—vrrrr—luuuuuuup!)

As the masturbator was introduced through the suit's opening, Clotilda’s magical silicone did more than just occupy the empty space; it began to anchor itself to the schoolgirl’s residual nerves and fibers.

(Creeeeeeak—Sssshhh-tck!—Thump!)

A wet crunching sound echoed, as if thousands of tiny suction cups were clinging to the interior of the dermis, while the skin-suit, which previously hung inert, suffered violent spasms.

(Zip—Pop!—Sluuuuuurp!)

As Goldie pushed the warrior's essence toward the torso, the girl's skin began to react, initiating the restructuring.

Silently, the schoolgirl's pores dilated, expelling stale air smelling of talcum powder, while the mass of the masturbator expanded to fill every cavity, causing the girl's flesh—dead and devoid of ego—to be "reanimated" by Clotilda’s will.

(Creeeeeeak—Sssshhh-tck!—Splat!)

The schoolgirl’s chest, previously flat as parchment, suddenly expanded as the snap of skin adjusting to the new internal structure could be heard.

(Zip—Pop!—Sluuuuuuup!)

The girl’s breasts regained their shape and, as the transformation progressed, finally reaching both the neck and the face, the symbiosis became total.

The skin of the schoolgirl’s face tightened over Clotilda’s core.

"... I... Aaah..."

The lips moistened naturally, the eyelashes flickered, and the cheeks regained a faint flush as Clotilda’s consciousness resurfaced within, feeling both the horror and the wonder of possessing a body once more.

(Zzzzzzz-tack! — Snap!)

Thus, as she came to from her disorientation, Goldie sealed the opening.

"... I am... Human... Ahaha... I’m human!"

Nevertheless, despite that, a delirious Clotilda clenched her fist, causing the skin of her knuckles to turn white from the tension as she felt the sensation of touch once again.

"Ha! Haa... ha, ha, ha!"

Moving her new hands, Clotilda began to run them over her own body with feverish desperation.

"I can feel my fingers!"

Her nails dug lightly into her forearms, leaving red marks on her new skin.

"I can feel the warmth of my own breath!"

And completely ignoring her nudity, with a sudden movement, Clotilda hugged herself, digging her fingers into her shoulders of real flesh.

"I am not a toy! I am not a damn piece of rubber!"

Her dark blue eyes flooded, and the first tears of euphoria began to roll down the schoolgirl’s cheeks, tracing bright tracks across the flawless skin.

"Thank you... My God, thank you..."

Thus, sobbing on her knees upon the grass, the sensation of the salty liquid running down her face drove her to the brink of an emotional breakdown.

"To feel... the pain of my knees against the ground... it’s so... so beautiful..."

In that state, Goldie, who was watching the scene with her button eyes glowing in the gloom, felt her little straw heart tighten.

("...")

Because of that, the small straw doll began to levitate slowly, drawing closer to the warrior who was now weeping disconsolately, her forehead resting on the damp earth.

("No... crying...")

And descending enveloped in divine light with her blanket waving in the wind, Goldie lowered herself until she was level with Clotilda’s shoulders.

("It’s over now... It’s over now...")

Directly after, with infinite gentleness, she extended one of her small golden-fiber hands to offer comfort through small, rhythmic pats.

"... Ugh... Sniff... Mmmgh... Sniff-sniff~"

However, due to the unique hybridization that had given birth to Goldie, her core was imbued with a unique blend of divine and cursed energy, triggering a terrifying synergy between the passive effects of both.

"A-Ah... my Lady..."

The passive effect of charisma and absolute devotion generated by gods activated all at once, crashing head-on into the woman’s completely unstable and vulnerable mental state.

"My Goddess..."

Looking into the doll’s button eyes, the warrior’s mind saw salvation incarnate, like a merciful deity who had descended into the very depths of hell to rescue her.

(I understand now... All this time... my suffering, being reduced to an inanimate object, losing my sword and my pride... it wasn't a curse.)

Her euphoric gaze melted immediately, transforming into an absolute and fanatical submission.

(It was a trial! A baptism of humiliation to purge my arrogance and make me worthy of recognizing true divinity when it appeared before me...)

The hysterical weeping froze, and stuttering, the young woman slid her body along the ground until she was completely prostrated, pressing her forehead against the earth right at the doll's floating feet.

("Eh...? No... prostrate... Stand up...")

Goldie, without understanding what was happening, tilted her head, moving her straw threads in utter confusion.

"No, my Lady! Allow me to lie before your grace."

... But unfortunately... it was already too late...

"You heard my cry in the void where no one else looked. You have granted me this body, this real flesh, this human silk to be your instrument. My old life as a knight was nothing; my sword now belongs to you. I swear by the blood that now runs through my veins and by the silicone that sustains me that I will be your shadow, your shield, and your executioner. My will is your will. Dispose of this vessel as you please, for my soul has awakened to the truth... Your truth!"

And as if those words spoken with fervor had awakened something, a chain reaction was unleashed in the clearing.

(Vrrrr—snap! — Ssssttttch!)

The rest of the women Goldie had tirelessly helped hours before, who were watching the scene from the shadows, felt the same divine calling.

("Eh?!")

Goldie’s passive energy swept them into the same tide of devotion...

(Thump! — Thump! — Thump!)

Thus, one after another, in perfect and silent synchronicity, the dozens of restored women began to move, prostrating themselves on their knees before the small and confused doll.

"We swear our eternal gratitude to you!"

"""WE SWEAR IT!"""

In this way, dozens of perfect women, naked or half-dressed, fell to their knees, bowing their heads toward the small doll of golden straw, creating a chorus that echoed throughout the area.

("¿?")

Leaving the still-confused Goldie suspended in the air, looking around at the sea of bowed backs and lowered heads.