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Episode 98
Last Updated:
2025-08-16 23:44:57
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BOUGHT BY CRUELEST ALPHA Episode 100
The pressure is… everywhere. Inside. Outside. Me. The fused agony of the Unraveler vibrates through every atom, a constant, silent scream vibrating in the roots of the black aster deep in its heart. A counterpoint: the Wild Gardener’s furious thrashing. It tears at the merged Gardens within me, fractal thorns ripping through weeping memory-vines, supernova eyes blazing hatred at the very walls of its existence. My realm-body groans, mountains cracking like eggshells, rivers of ichor and sterile coolant boiling into steam. A cosmic powder keg. And I am the fuse, the casing, the explosion waiting.Can’t hold. Can’t hold. CAN’T HOLD!The plea isn't spoken. It radiates. A psychic shriek tearing from my fracturing consciousness, aimed at the only anchor left. The Child. Diminished, aged, a flickering ember of starlight standing on the shuddering observation deck – the last stable point in my dissolving self. Their face, lined with cosmic aeons and recent sorrow, is a mask of impossible wei
BOUGHT BY CRUELEST ALPHA Episode 99
The last tether. My grandmother’s voice whispered "Endure, little star," as she pressed the seed into my child-hand. The only memory that hasn’t bled away or been devoured. The anchor point of Lily, not just the realm.Thorns as long as starships slam into the cliff face. The Wild Gardener. Our monstrous child. Savage beauty woven from fractal leaves and supernova eyes. It doesn’t hate me. It hates the anchor. The fixed point. The symbol of order, of origin, of human limitation holding back the pure, chaotic potential of the merged Gardens. Its thorned fingers, roots like knotted muscle, claw at the rock, shattering granite like glass. Hunting the root system. Hunting me.NO! The denial is pure instinct, a flare of terror brighter than the Gardener’s eyes. But my consciousness… it’s fraying. Splintering like old wood under an axe. I am the cliff crumbling. I am the roots screaming as they’re ripped from bedrock. I am the distant, icy laughter vibrating up from the deepest pit within m
BOUGHT BY CRUELEST ALPHA Episode 98
A Garden. My Garden. But… wrong. So terribly wrong. The vibrant, weeping chaos of my wild growth is mirrored here in razor-sharp order. Crystal trees grow in mathematically precise grids, leaves like shards of stained glass catching sterile light. Rivers flow in straight lines, bubbling with engineered nutrients, devoid of sentient fish or whispering currents. Vines snake with predatory efficiency, thorns gleaming like surgical steel. It’s a Null Garden. Cloned. Grown from the tissue they scraped off me during a hundred captures, a thousand experiments. My stolen flesh, twisted into this… this parasite.The pull intensifies. A grinding suction deep in my cosmic gut. It’s not just draining. It’s claiming. Recognizing its source material. Seeing me as… fuel. A component to be assimilated. My realm shudders. Mountains groan as if roots are being pulled. Rivers slow, their waters pulled towards the geometric horror looming in the void. Failure isn't death. It's becoming lunch for my own r
BOUGHT BY CRUELEST ALPHA Episode 97
Kieran, not on the marble floor, but somewhere… else. Cold starlight on desperate eyes. Not facing Arthur. Facing… . The nascent Devourer. A swirling maw of hunger and static, older than stars. He’s bargaining. Not for power. For time. "Take me. All of me. But give her… give her more time. Just a little more time to get clear." His voice raw, stripped bare. The Devourer’s presence, a chilling amusement. A pulse of dark energy. A pact sealed. Then, the echo shifts. Kieran turning, walking back towards the penthouse, towards Arthur, towards me, his face a mask of terrible resignation. To play the betrayer. To buy minutes with his soul.The foundation cracks. Not the realm. Me. The bedrock of my pain, my rage, my shattered self… it was wrong. He didn't choose Arthur. He chose the knife in the back to stall the Devourer. To give me a chance. The betrayal wasn't betrayal. It was… sacrifice. A different kind of damnation.My knees buckle. The deck rushes up. Cold metal against my cheek. Can
BOUGHT BY CRUELEST ALPHA Episode 96
"He never loved you, Lily. Just the power he sensed. Kieran was always mine."My heart jackhammers, just like then. Betrayal, hot and sour, floods my mouth. I spin, reaching for the energy dagger hidden in my boot sheath – the one I used last time, the time before, the time before that. But my fingers brush empty leather. Where—?The scene flickers. Not the penthouse. The sterile white lab. Arthur, eyes cold and alien, holding the neural inhibitor. "This will make you pliable, my dear. Necessary sacrifices." The prick on my neck. The terrifying numbness spreading. I lash out with a psychic scream, just like last loop—Flicker. Dissolution. The deck plates cold. My hand… blurring. Dissolving into void-motes. The Child’s distant, horrified gaze. The crushing loneliness. I try to hold onto me, just like before—Snap.Back to the marble. Arthur’s smug smile. Kieran’s face, pale and agonized in the doorway behind him, trapped, mouthing ‘Run!’ like always. The loop resets. The trap closes.
BOUGHT BY CRUELEST ALPHA Episode 95
Billions upon billions of lives. Gone. Not destroyed. Blotted. As if a cosmic thumb pressed down on wet ink.And I feel it.I am the boundary. The membrane. The shockwave hits me like a physical blow to the soul. I am Veridia Prime’s final sunset, crimson bleeding into unnatural twilight as the star winks out. I am the desperate, choked transmission from Harmony’s Resolve, cut mid-prayer. I am the gasp of atmosphere freezing solid over New Thessia’s domes, the silent scream trapped in crystalizing lungs. I am the mother clutching her child on a balcony watching the sky die, the warmth leaching from their bodies into the sudden, absolute cold. Billions of final heartbeats, stuttering, stopping. A symphony of silence crashing through my nerves.Too much. It’s too much. Agony isn’t the word. It’s annihilation. I convulse. The realm itself spasms – mountains groan, rivers run backwards, the sky weeps ichor again. My consciousness fractures further, shards slicing into the echoes of dying
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