The Pervert’s Predicament and the Tide of Human History

Humanity is driven by three fundamental desires: the craving for sustenance, the allure of color, and the need for slumber.

As an artificial life form, X required neither food nor drink, nor did she need to succumb to sleep when exhaustion threatened.

Instead, she effortlessly replenished her energy by allowing certain parts of her chassis to enter a dormant state, either generating power from her gravitational core or drawing energy directly from her surroundings.

Thus, in the realm of carnal desire, X pushed the boundaries to their absolute limit.

She often commandeered the laboratory’s network to download censored images, and privately indulged in studying her own experimental footage, finding herself utterly captivated by the sight of the experiment subject X, submerged within the sealed chamber, as captured by the lens.

Now, this diminutive porcelain doll before her, a creature seemingly sculpted by the divine, was utterly enchanting.

The gentle sway of her pale, delicate feet strummed at X’s very heartstrings.

Her ethereal, grey-white gauze skirt billowed softly, reminiscent of a shy, nascent flower bud.

Even more tantalizing was the look in her eyes, a gaze that seemed to dismiss X as an inferior being, thrilling her to the point where her phantom limbs throbbed with exhilaration.

This particular archetype—a short-haired, ’emotionless’ loli—struck directly at the core of her affections.

Were the subject not physically present, X would have been tempted to seize those tiny feet and simply, directly, bite them.

This, then, was precisely why, the instant Gloria posed her question, X had instinctively blurted out such an infuriating retort.

The inner world of this beautiful girl was far from the dignified elegance her outward appearance suggested; to liken it to a mudslide would perhaps even be an insult to the mudslide itself.

Perhaps the prior destruction of her physical form had shattered some invisible restraint, for X no longer felt compelled to suppress her true self.

Yet, this newfound freedom did not imply an ounce of trust for the “angel” standing before her.

Observing a spiritual entity, its outline eerily similar to X’s, begin to fluctuate, the disgust in Gloria’s eyes deepened considerably.

Having undergone numerous brain-network tests, X had vividly experienced cinematic scenarios akin to “The Matrix,” where consciousness drifted through virtual realms.

More than once, she had even assumed the role of the final boss within these digital worlds, utterly crushing anyone who bore even a passing resemblance to a protagonist.

In X’s estimation, Gloria’s true nature was likely nothing more than a viral program, surreptitiously implanted into her mind by some clandestine organization.

Appearing in such an alluring guise within a mental space uncannily similar to a virtual world, she was undoubtedly attempting to entice X into lowering her guard and divulging all her secrets.

In the physical realm, X’s actual body had, in all likelihood, already been sealed away.

‘Hmph, was it my secrets you sought, or merely access to the modules within my body? I decided to simply follow this surge of impulse, turning their scheme against them, and leverage my formidable psychic power to counter their move.’

‘Furthermore, with that frail, virtual form of yours, if I truly desired to punish her, what defense could you possibly mount? Those slender arms… a single wet kiss from my lips would likely leave her flushed and utterly drained of strength.’

‘Wait, was this not, in fact, my mental space? Surely, there could be no limitations on what I wished to do here.’

‘Hehehe, little kitty, you might as well surrender quietly.’

‘What abysmal luck I possess! First, I encountered one thief who absconded with my physical form and a trove of divine artifacts, and now I face yet another, intent on purloining my very chastity.

Tell me, am I the Blasphemous Demon God, or are you?!’

‘Since your intentions are far from benign, do not fault me for my ruthless hand in crushing such delicate beauty.’

“Heh, it appears you have made the gravest of choices, you personality-deficient pedophile, you utter pervert, you insatiable lecher!” She clutched the tablet to her chest, her gaze chillingly cold.

“I shall enslave your spirit, forcing you to prostrate yourself before me.

Prepare to undergo a thorough ideological re-education courtesy of human civilization!

Dark Law Source, Second Infusion! Let darkness consume the void, let mirages stretch into reality; open the network of your heart and savor the baptism from the world of profound darkness!”

Before X could even formulate a reaction, tiny specks of black light erupted from Gloria’s palm, scattering outwards.

A wind, born of no discernible source, carried these luminous motes, disseminating them across the vast expanse of X’s mental space.

Even the ethereal mental mist grew sullied, resembling pristine snow sullied by clinging mud and sand.

Gloria clenched her small fist, drawing the black light into a tight sphere.

Then, another sweep of white light passed through, and all the black motes dissolved entirely.

Concurrently, the spiritual entity, whose outline mirrored X’s, trembled violently.

Its color slowly shifted, becoming translucent before darkening to an inky black, then freezing rigidly in place.

“Hmph, even a pervert must possess a bottom line; your actions have undeniably crossed that boundary!” Gloria, light as a feather, drifted gracefully onto the spiritual entity’s shoulder, subtly parting her legs as she settled with a soft sigh.

“To prevent your mind from spiraling into a berserk state due to an overwhelming influx of information, I shall personally suppress your soul throughout this infusion.”

This was not for the sake of protecting X’s soul; rather, Gloria simply had no desire to take possession of a mentally deranged physical body.

Ideally, this comprehensive infusion would not only cure the pervert’s psychological maladies but also complete her fragmented personality.

Given such a tragic past, coupled with her experiences of being feared and loathed by humanity, X’s personality had perpetually teetered on the precipice of collapse.

Handled improperly, a single stimulus, breaching her psychological defenses, could easily cause X to abandon her last vestiges of restraint, transforming her into a malevolent demon lord intent on exacting a catastrophic reckoning upon the human race.

Within her nebulous prophecies, Gloria had glimpsed the potentiality of such a future, and she desperately wished to prevent that possibility from manifesting into reality.

A blinding white light surged through her mind, and countless tableaux from the annals of human civilization began to unfold across an endless array of rotating screens.

The girl found herself unable to halt these ceaseless images, perceiving only that her field of vision was being forcibly expanded.

It was as if millions of eyes had sprouted from her, enabling her to simultaneously perceive the spectacle on every single screen.

With even a brief moment of immersion, her consciousness, like ink diffusing into water, permeated each and every fragment presented before her—

Beyond the trenches, explosions echoed, as charging soldiers crumbled within the artillery-woven defenses, their bodies forming a charred carpet of flesh;

In the square, the patter of rain intertwined with the rhythmic beat of drums; a blade flashed, and the king’s head tumbled beneath the executioner’s block;

Above the town, flocks of crows cawed and wheeled, then plunged towards the bags of dark, putrefying flesh that had been discarded into the putrid ditch;

Beneath the towering city walls, a gaunt old man, bearing a colossal stone block that dwarfed his frame, gazed back with a countenance etched with sorrow at the crimson path, a grim tapestry woven from countless human figures;

Before a gilded, opulent coffin, a young woman, her face adorned with vivid makeup, lay down beside a corpse wrapped in swathes of cloth, spread cinnabar over herself, and closed her eyes;

On the sandy beach, a fisherman stooped to retrieve a beautiful seashell, tucking it into his burlap sack;

Within a cave, a hirsute man meticulously tied two knots into a grass rope, meticulously tallying the day’s hunting bounty;

In the depths of the forest, a primitive human, clad in leaves and poised to gather wild fruits, spied a bird’s nest high in a tree, sparking an idea for evading predatory beasts;

As the climate shifted, trees grew stunted, and fruits shriveled.

In a desperate quest for a new home, a furry foot descended upon the parched earth…

Time reversed its course, and a torrent of information, presented as 4D cinematic reels, flooded X’s consciousness.

The vast majority of these narratives depicted unmitigated tragedy: conflict, war, slaughter, death, betrayal, sacrifice, sweat, blood, corpses, graves, deceit, conspiracy, treachery, masquerade… human history, it seemed, was saturated with every conceivable negative descriptor.

Death, above all, composed its dominant, pervasive melody.