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Memory of a Conqueror’s Obsession

Coliseum of Eternal Triumph

A World of Gladiators and Arenas

Sometime before the Crossover

A long time ago, before I became the Conqueror, I owned and ran a different kind of arena. A renowned coliseum. I cannot remember the name of my world, my country or even the name of the very building I had dedicated my life to. All I know is that that circle of stone and mortar, of sand and blood, was my entire life. Every waking minute was spent making it the best in all the land. My dreams were filled with ideas and inspiration on how to make the arena even better or what events I would organize to please the crowds.

But it was not just a simple ring for entertainment.

It was the best arena in the entire world.

Coliseums and gladiatorial fights were the measure of everything in that world. Civil disputes were resolved on the sands. Fame and fortune was tied directly to one’s success in the arena. Currency was not determined by gold or money but by one’s victories and successes in combat. The world was divided by those who organized fights or owned arenas and those that actually fought in them.

I was the former.

While far from the glorious embodiment of masculine athleticism I am now, I was nonetheless fit, lean and some would argue handsome. As the face of one of - if not the most - successful arena in the land, I needed to embody both sides of society. Handsome, striking features, bronzed skin with a frame that was lean and athletic enough to be considered above the average plebeian but not overbearingly muscular like a gladiator. Back in those days, my attire consisted mostly of a white toga and a velvety smooth, purple body sash.

I was not only the owner of my arena but also it’s face.

Every match and event was graced by my presence. Thousands consistently came to see these events.

To see me.

There was never a day when we had seats to spare. Gladiatorial matches I organized were the highlights of these spectacles. Kings and queens, princes and princesses from all over the land would plead for seats to see their favorite warriors shed blood. Warriors from all over would beg for the honor to fight in my arena. Their careers would begin and end on my sands.

But all things come to an end.

And my end began… because of him.

It was during a tournament that I held annually. At that point, the event was well-planned. Everything worked like a well-oiled machine. The roster was arranged. Catering was perfect and on time. Guests were given accommodation. Seats were booked each and every day. Victory in this tournament would shower the victors with fame, fortune and honors beyond their imagining.

It was not unheard of for unknown groups to enter the fray and succeed. It was one of the narratives I heavily invested in. The world would always be captivated by the tale of the underdog rising to the pinnacle of their field.

I did not lay eyes on the man that would be my downfall until the first time they stepped into my arena to commence their first match. He was one amongst five. I had never head of him or their group until their names were announced. Each of them was at the peak of physical condition. Giants amongst men.

Leading them was him.

Wielding a spear in one hand and a shield in the other, his face was masked by a helmet. It was his black cloak that drew him from the rest of the competitors.

Cody Wilder the Champion of Conquest.

A chill ran down my spine when I heard his name. Perhaps I should have listened to that omen but again, I dismissed it. His figure was ominous, his name intimidating, his group appearing strong and powerful. But he was just one amongst others. He was just as likely to succeed as fail.

But he exceeded expectations by winning the tournament. Everyone immediately showered him with adoration. Myself amongst them. I saw an opportunity. He and his band of gladiators were to be my next pet project. Warriors fighting in my arena, whose tale would be amongst the countless others that formed the foundation of my arena’s glory.

Then he refused.

He shunned the other nobles. Turned his back to sponsorship and any other fortune we could have offered. Took his winnings and just left. I felt snubbed Insulted. I vowed then that should I ever lay eyes on Cody Wilder again, I would destroy him.

Then the following year came, my tournament had been organized. At that point, I had all but forgotten about the ungrateful and nameless band of fighters that swooped in, took their reward and just left without a word. When I saw his name on the roster, I recalled my vow and eagerly anticipated when I would destroy him.

I pitted great challenges against him, orchestrated fights to ensure that the toughest of fighters would face him in the ring. He and his team took up these challenges. Each one they handily conquered. I hoped that they would simply be the latest celebrities that would fall to their own hubris. But they did not lose. Ever. Any challenge I threw at him, they won. Barely a scratch on them.

What had once been dismissed as an anomaly was now becoming a thorn on my side. Research on him and his group revealed that they traveled all over the land, competing in tournaments and always winning. That was all they did. Fight. Not disputes to settle. No grudges to lay to rest. Not even any land to call their own. Just travel and fighting.

Such arrogance infuriated me.

So I invited him and his band to stay and I would give him all the fights he wanted.

He snubbed me again. Told me that he would be there if and when the challenge was ready. Not a day before and not a day after. He warned me that he knew what I was doing. That he could see the vengeance behind my smile and the ‘perceived humiliation’ I felt. He warned me not to pursue this path. To appreciate the simple joy of combat for what it was; a test of strength. To detach these fights from the politics, personal grudges and perceptions that had become attached to them in our land.

Naturally, I did not listen. Who was he to lecture me? I navigated the intrigue our world to build the greatest arena in all the world! He was just a brute swinging a pointy stick. He did not know anything about how the world truly worked.

I took him up on his word and began organizing fights designed exclusively to challenge him. Like a quick summer’s storm, he would always be there to accept and fight whomever I had pitted against him. No matter the day, no matter the duration. He was always there. Nights went when I had nightmares of him being some sort of ghostly specter representing the judgment of the gods for my own arrogance.

Those could have, perhaps, more reason to have listened to those omens.

Because he won every single fight.

I threw everything I could at him and his band. Told myself that they could not win every match. I was wrong. They won each one. No matter how complicated or convoluted, no matter how short the time between each fight. They won each one. And with each win, my audience began to dwindle.

When the winners of any event was a forgone conclusion, an entertainer’s worse enemy rears its ugly head: boredom.

Whispers amongst the crowd was that I was quickly becoming obsessed with this man and his group of gladiators. There were even scandalous rumors that he and I were in some sort of romantic relationship and I was using my power and influence to prop him up. Like I was embezzling fame and fortune by pitting all my efforts against him to the detriment of my own in some scheme to leave the arena owner’s crown behind. It would have made for an entertaining and admittedly clever ploy were it true.

I became desperate to oust him and his team. To regain my lost glory and prestige. I hired and trained more and more gladiators. Spent my fortune and influence obsessed with defeating Cody Wilder.

Despite all that, he still prevailed. No matter what I threw at him, he and his team always won. I was convinced he was the cause of my rapidly diminishing power and influence. That if I could just prove that he was mortal, that he could be defeated, my arena was still worth something.

Each attempt drained my coffers. Fewer and fewer wished to sign onto my contracts knowing full well that they were destined to lose. I became harsher to those that remained.

Surely one of them would be able to defeat this demon.

None could.

He was unstoppable.

I failed to realize that each time I threw a new challenge at him, he grew in strength. Learned. Gained experience. He was not some static mountain that would eventually crumble to infinite resources. It was more like he was some dark mirror, reflecting all my efforts back against me. I would never be able to defeat him unless I defeated myself, my own obsession, first.

I did not learn.

The inevitable happened sooner than I expected. My sponsors left. My gladiators and staff resigned. My influence ran dry. The people stopped coming. My arena fell into disrepair. I haunted the ruins of my arena, cursing his name for… I don’t remember how long. All the blame rested on Cody Wilder for my state. Cold, hungry and most of all, angry, I lingered in the ruins of what had once been the greatest arena in all the land.

Until that day… when the Crossex arrived.

It came down under a bolt of purple lightning. Striking the center of my abandoned arena during one particularly nasty storm. A single card. Floating in the air, calling to me.

My world has no magic. Success was determined by the strength of one’s own hand and not some mysticism. While we believed in gods, they seldom acted if they were real at all. Priests and clergymen would claim phenomenon were attributed to the deities they worshiped but I never paid homage to any of them or cowed to the demands of religion. Perhaps if I had, fortunes would have turned otherwise.

Even then, when I saw the Crossex Card, I recognized a source of power.

‘Come to me,’ it whispered. ‘And I shall grant you your heart’s greatest desire.’

I wanted nothing more than to defeat Cody Wilder the Champion of Conquest. So I tookl the Crossex Card hoping that it would lead me to victory against my bane.

Instead, I was pulled into a chaotic vortex of dark clouds and purple energies. Lightning crackled. Winds howled. Nothing was stable. The maelstrom of malevolent power had this pervasive presence within it. A pair of burning eyes that I could not see but I could feel scanning me. Judging me.

I screamed for help. Demanded that this presence at least tell me what it wanted with me.

It never answered.

I could not even sleep. Could not even starve to death even in my diminished state. Iw as held a prisoner for eternity.

When I accepted this, I stopped struggling. At some point, those judgmental eyes departed and I was left alone with my thoughts. Left to contemplate my fate. In that harsh nothingness, came realization. It was my own obsession that led me down this path. My own doing that caused me to exhaust all of my resources to bring down own man. My own choices that brought ruin to my arena even though Cody Wilder tried to warn me not to go down that path. My own hands that took up the Crossex and condemned me to this undying, tormented life.

Then the storm shattered. The raging hurricane broke like glass around me.

Eternity must have gotten bored of me as well.

Breaking the storm was a single, goblet. Gold but otherwise undecorated. The cup was filled with a strange, thick, white fluid. It had been so long since I had eaten anything that I craved its touch on my lips. Still, I hesitated.

‘Drink me,’ it whispered. ‘And you shall bet he Conqueror of Conquerors. You shall have an Arena to put all other to shame in this world and every other across the cosmos.’

One would think that I had learned my lesson about approaching magical, unexplained objects. But I was uncaring. Worse yet, I was bored. Who was I to refuse such an offer?

So I drank from the goblet. Tasted the silky, salty, warm touch of the liquid on my parched lips and felt it slide down my dry throat.

A power I had never felt before flooded through me. Lightning coursed through my veins. An inferno raged in my blood. The very storm that had imprisoned me was now being absorbed by my very being. Every part of me tasted this ambrosia and craved more. I drank from the cup, a man who had wandered the desert without a single drop of water.

And I grew. Grew stronger. Taller. More powerful in every aspect.

My hair, dark as midnight, turned a perfect white. White and pure as the very substance that began my ascension. I was becoming stronger than I had ever been in my prime. I felt no man, not even Cody Wilder, could stand against my growing might and I was growing stronger still. My muscles swelled into sizes that would have put even my own gladiators to shame. The toga that hung on my form for an eternity of torment shredded off my form from the sheer might of my inflating body. My sash remained strangely intact and even repaired itself despite the years of neglect even before I entered this hellish voice.

A new sensation and need coursed through me.

Virility.

Arousal.

Lust

I didn’t just want to defeat Cody Wilder.

I wanted to humiliate him. I wanted to dominate him.

I wanted to fuck him and make him my bitch.

My cock swelled with these thoughts and I accepted each of them as my own. The feeling was intoxicating and the fantasy of seeing my nemesis on his knees, choking on my manhood burned through my heart and mind. The image of him impaled on my dick, screaming for more as I filled his belly with my seed spurred my change all the more.

Some part of me realized that this was not who I was. That these thoughts were alien to me. I had never once considered bedding another man. These fantasies, however, they were too alluring and if they were the cost of the power needed to escape this hellish prison, so be it.

A fresh green laurel appeared in my hands. The symbol of a victor. A conqueror.

I seized and placed it upon my brow.

Imperfections vanished. Shaggy hair that had grown from years of neglect shortened into a perfect, silver cloudy. Wild, unkempt facial hair trimmed back down into a groomed beard that perfectly framed a chiseled jaw. All signs of malnutrition was replaced by bulging, vascular muscles and genitals that would split an average man in half.

I felt my first ever orgasm as the Conqueror of the Arena.

I came over and over and over and over again.

Celebrated my new body and power in rapturous orgasm for another eternity. Absorbing my newfound powers and doing something I never did before.

Learn.

I learned to control my powers. How to move my new, titanic form. How to quell my desires and balance them against the cool, calculating organizational intellect that had propelled my arena to the heights of power.

And when I had absorbed every lesson the cup, my crown of office and what had once been my prison offered, the darkness peeled open one last time. It showed me a lush forest that was far from the home I knew.

I stepped through without hesitation.

The world I beheld was not the one in which I was born or what I had once conquered with my arena. But it would be mine nonetheless. I felt the presence of others like me, travelers from other worlds that had been pulled into this one from the maligned and overly ambitious actions of one petty man. They had staked their claim and I was the last to take the power of the Crossex for my own.

If I was to stake my claim, I would need to act fast.

I poured some of the fluids from my cup onto the ground and my Arena sprang to life. The nearby city, the Hub as the locals called it, immediately took notice.

I issued a challenge to the denizens of that weak kingdom. Succeed against me and my challenges and be rewarded with riches, power and fame beyond your wildest dreams. Fail and join my Glandiators so that even in defeat, you will find a way to success under my leadership.

For I had learned that defeat should not be the final condemnation nor one’s final obsession. I am merciful and sympathize with those that have lost everything.

I am a beacon of hope and renewal.

I am…

… the Conqueror of the Arena.

Ring of Conquest

The Conqueror’s Arena

The Hub City

4 Months after the Crossover

A bead of sweat ran down Cody’s brow, sliding down his nose and onto his chest. Underneath the metal helmet, few could see his fear and worry. Though he could sense that the others around him were not as confident as when they had strode into the Arena this morning.

He was exhausted.

A casual glance around him revealed that he wasn’t the only one.

Knox’s fingers were still bleeding from his rapid strumming. Theodore was checking his ammunition reserves and looked visibly disappointed. Ero was appeared paler than usual, sweat dripping off his head and had to use his staff to prop himself up. Prince Marcelos tried to put up a brave face and though he looked the least injured amongst them, there was just something with how he was standing that told Cody the Prince was on his last legs.

And now they had to face their greatest challenge yet.

The Conqueror of the Arena.

“This is against the rules!” bellowed Marcelos, stepping forward. “You said that we would get one day between matches! You have acknowledged that we succeeded against the previous match! So we get one day to rest and recuperate!”

A dark grin crossed the Conqueror’s face. “That honor would sit with those who play by the rules. Unfortunately, it seems you broke those very same rules during your last challenge.”

“What!?” Eros spat. “We have been doing nothing but dancing to your tune, Conqueror. What rules did we break?”

“Your reinforcements. The challenge was designed for five competitors. You called upon allies to tilt the numbers to your advantage.”

Allies? Cody wondered. Who or what is he talking about?

‘The men you saved,’ Gladiator-Cody advised grimly. ‘Knox’s music stirred them to fight and the Conqueror is now using that technicality to excuse his abuse of the rules.’

At the mention of the recently freed men, he glanced over his shoulder at the civilians. Gordon was still amongst them. His former party member was dazed, exhausted but standing. The other men, though having recovered from the Conqueror’s curse and had participated in the battle, were scared and huddling together. Without the inspirational effects of Knox’s magical music, they were once again thrown into confusion and fear.

None of them would be able to help in the fight.

Not to mention there was no guarantee that they were immune to being transformed again if the Conqueror or his champion got to them.

“Fine,” he bellowed, lifting his gaze towards the Conqueror. “If you will let all these other people leave unharmed, we will forgo our rest period without further complaint and face you here and now!”

“Are you insane!?” snapped Eros, dropping his voice to a harsh whisper. “Have you taken one too many blows to the head? I don’t know about you, but I have very little left! Even at my full power, I don’t think I could do more than tickle those two!”

Knox winced. “I hate ta side with th’ Evil Wizard, laddie, but he’s right. We ain’t in th’ position ta be rushin’ head-long inta ‘nother fight.”

Cody nodded in understanding. “I know,” he whispered back. “But we’re going to be fighting him now no matter what he says. The best we can do is make sure the others are safe and they don’t get turned again.”

Prince Marcelos offered a grim nod of agreement. “He’s right. Right now, it could go in one of two directions. We have the numbers, yes, but there is a distinct possibility that the Conqueror and his champion could still turn any of the civilians and us into Glandiators. At the same time, our sheer numbers could distract and overwhelm them. Our only option in this negotiation is to guarantee their safety.”

The Conqueror lifted his head, looking down his nose at them. His glowing, red eyes darted across the Arena. Counting the Hero’s party, there were perhaps forty combatants facing him and his champion. Not all of them were brave enough to stand and fight. The Conqueror was a calculating man and one that valued one thing above all else: spectacle.

“Very well,” be boomed, lifting his goblet into the air. “I accept your terms.”

The portcullis gates creaked upwards, revealing the exit to the arena.

“Go! Those who do not wish to fight may flee. Carry word to your kings, queens and rulers! Your heroes have offered themselves up for a fleeting reprieve from my rule! Remind them all that the moment they fall, my Arena is welcome to all! They can cast aside their former lives and join me in eternal pleasure and glory as one of my Glandiators!”

Prince Marcelos turned towards the naked civilians. “You heard him,” he insisted. “Get to safety.”

“But… Your Highness…” began one of the men.

“We will not fall to this Invader.” Marcelos turned back towards the Conqueror, flicking the tip of his sword through the air. His summoned Glandiator stepped up beside him, spear at the ready. “We shall fight for the Hub and all of the people of Aeryoscia!”

Cody felt someone tugging at his cloak. It was Gordon.

“Gordon…?” he began, a bit of relief coming from his voice.

“Don’t think I can’t recognize you even looking like that,” grunted the legendary rogue. Gordon’s features were dark, focused and directed at the Conqueror. “I don’t know the capabilities of that Champion of his but beware the slime that he holds in his mug. It is foul but addictive. It will… arouse you and if you aren’t careful, it will enthrall you. Avoid it at all costs.”

Cody nodded in thanks for the advice. “Thanks.” He whirled back around to face the Conqueror, energized by Gordon’s support. “Now let me protect you like I always have.”

Gordon let out a soft snort and then followed the rest of the crowd out and away from the Arena. The moment the last one of them had left, the portcullis gates came grinding back down to a close.

The Invader grinned broadly, reaching out with his free hand towards them.

“As I am such a merciful man, I will let you have the first strike.” He held up a finger. “Each of you will have the opportunity to strike me once. I will not retaliate. But the moment each one of you has delivered a blow unto me, I will fight back.”

‘Be careful,’ warned Gladiator-Cody. ‘When he is like this, he is just as likely to use trickery as not. He will play on words and use them as excuses to get the upper hand.’

Cody glanced off towards the imaginary apparition of his mental hitchhiker.

What are you thinking?

‘Notice how he did not say anything about his Champion?’

The Hero of the Hub grit his teeth.

Clever.

“Well,” Eros declared, stepping forward. “If you’re offering your defeat on a silver platter, who am I to deny you a swift defeat?” He swung his staff to his right. Five, black chains radiating with dark, purple energies erupted from the ground behind him, lifting into the air and coiling around him like wild serpents. Eros thrust his staff forward and shouted, “Now submit!”

The chains launched forward, lashing out towards the Conqueror.

Two things happened at nearly the same time. First, a shadow fell over Eros. The Conqueror’s Champion appeared by his side, swinging that enormous sword of his down upon the Wizard’s head, ready to cleave him in two. The second was those chains wrapping around the Conqueror’s frame, pinning the titan’s arms to his side and slamming his legs together.

“Eros!” bellowed Knox.

Eros noticed the change of lighting. The wizard had no time to look up towards his impending doom before that sword came crashing down.

Cody had anticipated this.

CLANG!

The Hero of the Hub had intercepted the blow, crossing his dual-dildos above him and caught the massive sword before it bisected Eros. The impact was still powerful enough that it sent him to his knees but it still kept the Wizard from harm.

“Saw that coming,” Cody growled at the Champion. Then, over his shoulder, he said, “He’s not going to play fair! He never said anything about his Champion cutting us down!”

Eros’ eyes blazed wide in fury and he turned back towards the Conqueror. “Oh you conniving son-of-a-bitch…” Then a cruel smirk crossed his features as the Conqueror met his rage with arrogance. “But you said it yourself. You won’t strike back until every last one of us has hit you once. Which means, you won’t do anything until then.”

“Your point?” laughed the Conqueror.

Eros swung his staff around, pointing it directly at the Champion. “My point is that you won’t attack us even if we beat your fucking Champion to a pulp! You won’t even support him!”

A flicker of surprise crossed the Conqueror’s eyes.

Black chains burst out of the tip of Eros’ staff and shot towards the Champion. All the weight pushing down Cody immediately lifted as the Champion peeled away and swatted at the chains, knocking them aside with ease. Balls of flame the size of fists slammed against the Champion’s shoulders. Marcelos hurled more streaks of magic while his summoned Glandiator closed in the gap. The Champion powered through the storm of spells and charged at the Glandiator, swinging his sword in a mighty, horizontal swing. The blade cut right through the summoned creature and the Champion didn’t stop his charge. The blow made Cody clench his abdominal muscles like he had been the one that had been struck.

Theodore placed himself between the Prince and the Champion, holding up a shield and firing his pistol past it. Again, the Champion just swatted the projectiles away as he charged at the knight, sword at the ready. A sudden loud chord erupted from Knox, a blast of sound bursting from the bard’s lute and washing over the battlefield. The Champion didn’t even break stride as he swung his blade at Theodore. The knight held up his shield and caught the blow but it was so powerful that he was hurled clear off to the side, crashing to the ground in a heap.

“Theodore!” barked Marcelos, his eyes never leaving the approaching Champion. The Prince held up his rapier, ready to face the Champion as he stepped closer and closer.

The Conqueror’s booming laughter echoed across the Arena.

“Your little tricks won’t defeat me or my Champion. But if you wish to assault us one by one, be our guest! You will fall all the sooner!”

A little spark lit up in Cody’s mind.

“Eros!” he barked, holding up his two blades. “Wrap your chains around my weapons! Then attack when I do!”

The Wizard looked about ready to bark back some sarcastic comment when he glanced over to Conqueror. There was a moment of realization on his face followed by the return of that malevolent grin.

“You are a clever one, aren’t you Hero?” He swung his staff towards Cody, black chains snaking out of the air and wrapping around Cody’s twin dildo-blades. “I think I am beginning to understand why you and I constantly fought.”

“Save your flirting for after we win this!” Cody snapped back, turning towards the Champion. He charged as the titanic Glandiator swung his sword over and over again at Marcelos.

The Champion wielded his massive sword easily in one hand, swinging it lazily as a child would a stick that was conveniently shaped like a sword. Marcelos had to dodge backwards completely. He could not parry any of the blows. Any attempt would see his thin rapier shattered.

Cody’s rapid approach caught the attention of the Champion and the mighty titan turned, bringing his next mighty swing around at the charging Hero. Cody was ready, lifting his swords to block the blow. Their weapons collided and he was pushed back a few steps. The black chains wrapping his blades provided the extra weight he needed to take the brunt of the blow.

“Eros!” Cody shouted. “Now!”

With all his might, Cody pushed his swords towards the ground, forcing the Champion’s weight in the same direction. He put all his mass into the movement, purposefully throwing himself forward and tumbling downwards. Behind him, Eros sent a large ball of compressed chains as big as his head right over the Hero. The Champion tried to bring his sword back up to block the blow but Cody was pressing all his weight down on the sword, preventing him from moving.

The Champion’s glowing, red eyes widened for a brief moment before -

WHAM!

The ball slammed right into the Champion’s face with a resounding, metallic noise. The chains unfurled, a snake’s nest disturbed. They wrapped around the Champion, pulling his wrists away from his sword and forcing his legs apart. Many curled around his chiseled torso just for further restraints.

“Attack in pairs!” Cody shouted, sliding behind the Champion, his dual-dildos at the ready. “He can’t keep track of all of us!”

With another, primal shout he shoved one of his dildo-blades into the virgin ass of the Champion. The man immediately went rigid, letting out his own primal roar as pleasure shot throughout his entire body. Cody pulled the sword out and then jammed the other one immediately after.

“Switchblade in Rear!” he shouted, rapidly alternating from one sword to the other in rapid succession. The Champion let out a bellowing roar, fists clenched tightly, as his cock ejaculated a ridiculously long and consistent stream of cum that almost looked like a geyser. Eros had to scramble away before he was showered with the seed.

The Champion’s quaking body left him vulnerable as he continued to scream in defiance even as his balls emptied themselves into the air. Marcelos summoned another Glandiator that immediately charged at the Champion and began jabbing him with his spear. Theodore, gingerly got up from the ground, lifted his gun and fired. The bullets were not some toxin-laden projectile. They were just pain bullets. Even though they bounced off the Champion’s body, they still left sweltering wounds. Knox danced in, swiping and slapping the Champion’s quivering body with his palms in movements that looked gentle but each one emitted a painful sounding slap.

The quaking wracking the Champion’s body stopped. His stream of cum ended. Cody and Marcelos’ Glandiator immediately retreated as the Champion flexed every muscle in his body. The chains around him cracked and shattered.

Knox stepped aside, a smug look on his face. “Oh dun think yer finishin’ up before me, honey.” Even though his fingers were bloodied, the bard lifted his hand into the air dramatically. “Then again, I’ve always been responsible fer my own orgasms.”

Then he strummed his lute with one, big flourish. The Champion let out another roar as all the places that Knox had hit suddenly exploded with burst of musical notes. Powerful stimulating points rocketed throughout the towering Glandiator’s body, each one exploding like a volcano. Even though he had only orgasmed a few seconds ago, the Champion was forced to his knees, once again shaking as his aching cock throbbed like a pipe ready to burst.

But it was not yet there.

“Keep on the pressure!” roared Cody.

Marcelos’ Glandiator vanished in a shower of magical runes. A Goblin Cocksucker scrambled forward and latched itself onto the Glandiator’s throbbing member, immediately assaulting it with its tongue, rubbing its whole body against the pulsating member and using its hands and feet to stroke the massive length wildly. The Glandiator reached for it, trying to peel it off his body.

BANG!

A single aphrodisiac bullet slammed into his head, sliding past the minuscule hole of his visor and striking his forehead. That moment of shock, that instant of defeat when control was lost was enough.

The Champion let out another roar as his cock erupted into another volcanic eruption of cum. Incredibly impressive especially as it had just ejaculated. As gallon after gallon of seed poured out of it, however, Cody didn’t see it’s form dissolving into Crossex energy.

Just a little more!

Cody switched his dual-dildos for his dick-spear and charged once more at the downed Glandiator Champion. He shoved the spear right into the Champion’s vulnerable ass and, with all of his strength, hoisted the beast up into the air. Just as the Champion was about to slide down the shaft of his weapon, he withdrew it…

… and another dick-spear came shooting out from beside him, held by Marcelos’ summoned Glandiator. The force of the sudden impalement was enough to keep the Champion aloft.

With a grin, Cody thrust his spear upward just as the summoned Glandiator withdrew his. They rapidly alternated thrusts, peppering the abused Champion over and over again with the might of their trusts and gravity. The Champion never got a second to rest between orgasms. The jet of cum that spewed from his cock just intensified as he let out a defeated but rapturous roar.

Cody and Marcelos’ Glandiator pulled back. The Champion slumped to the ground, defeated. The green laurel sitting atop his helmet rolled off his temples. Dark energies unwound from his cum-soaked and exhausted body, streaming straight into Cody’s body. The Hero of the Hub guided the energy straight towards his balls, letting them sit there and marinade while his dick sprang to attention.

“Fuck…” he grunted as his own cock shot out his seed. The swirl of pearlescent slime swirled around his hands. He released the dual-dildos he was gripping and allowed them to dissolve back into similar goo. Just as he was thinking how he was getting used to this ‘cummancy’ as he started to consider it, the fluids coalesced together into a long, wide weapon.

Please don’t be a dick. Please don’t be a dick. Please just don’t be a dick!

The weapon manifested, forming into a large, broad, metal…

… sword.

It was similar to the Champion’s only its edges were glimmering with a shimmering rainbow like a pearl with the individual layers and folds clearly visible along the flat side of the weapon.

Cody held up the weapon triumphantly. “Yes! It’s not a dick!”

The minute the words left his mouth, shame immediately welled up in his cheeks, reddening them. He glanced instinctively to his right where Eros was standing, giving him a cocked eyebrow.

“Tell me you wouldn’t have said the same after all the gear I’ve been given,” he growled back.

Eros held up his hands in surrender. “I didn’t say anything.”

Though you’re clearly thinking it.

Turning his sneer towards the Conqueror, Cody hefted his new, enormous weapon over his shoulder.

“This ends now, Conqueror!”

The Invader narrowed his gaze the gathered party, briefly looking towards the remnants of his Champion who had now reverted back to his human self. A scowl crossed his features even as the black chains around him tightened.

“I will not be defeated again!” he boomed. A groaning sound emerged from his bindings and they visibly bulged. “I will not be haunted by defeat! I will rise past failure and rebuild anew!” The chains shuddered, cracks appearing across their surface. “I will claim you all as my next generation of Glandiators! That city of yours and this entire world shall… be…!”

BOOM!

The Conqueror burst out of his bindings. Shards of mystic black metal dissolved into the air before they even hit the rest of the party. Clutching that golden goblet, of his, the Conqueror sneered.

“… MINE!”

‘Careful,’ warned Gladiator-Cody. ‘He was never a fighter himself but he has gotten to the point where he no longer cares. He will do anything to beat you. Every dirty trick. Every foul tactic. Be ready.’

Cody braced himself for an attack only to have Eros step forward past him.

“I remember you,” the Wizard began, his voice low and with a hint of resentment.

Eros swung his staff at the Conqueror. A big, black, serpentine chain burst from the ground and arced towards the Conqueror like a dark shark’s fin wreathed in crackling purple lightning cutting through the sands. The Conqueror countered by flicking his cup in the direction of the chains, sending a gush of white liquid that was conceivably more than that small goblet could contain. The moment the two projectiles hit, they exploded in a shower of metal, cum, lightning and seething Crossex magic.

“Of all the iterations of myself that I scoured the cosmos for, I honestly thought that someone with all the wealth, power and success as you would have at least gotten laid once.”

Cody glanced from Eros to the Conqueror. It was his turn to raise an eyebrow.

“The Conqueror never had sex before…?”

‘To be fair,’ began Gladiator-Cody. ‘In our world, everything was settled in the arena. You participated in matches to get better standing or settle disputes. People were divided into two groups; those that organized matches and those that fought in them. The Conqueror was one of those men who put their whole lives into organizing so that he would never have to fight.’

How does that relate to him never sleeping with anyone before?

He felt Gladiator-Cody shrug.

‘Many of life’s great problems stems from who sleeps with whom. By staying celibate, he never offended anyone and was capable of putting all of his efforts into is Arena.’

That was both sad and a little frightening. For most of his adult life, Cody had only ever known the struggle of fighting against the Evil Wizard. Beyond the admittedly varied schemes of Eros, the Hero of the Hub never knew anything else. Sure he developed relationships, allies and built memories but none of that ever tied to… well… to sex. Sad as it was to say, he was forced to reflect on the Conqueror and wonder if he, too, had put off the primal pleasures of life for what was effectively a job only he could do.

Eros pushed forward, swinging his staff with more and more fury. Chains charged through the ground. Each swing became more and more venomous and hostile but the windup also became longer and longer.

The Wizard was tiring.

“You had everything!” bellowed Eros, clearly showing his frustration. “Money! Power! Influence! And you squandered it all obsessing over your stupid -”

He swung his staff, sending out a particularly large wave of chains that forced the Conqueror to stagger.

“ - little -”

Another quick swipe. The wave was smaller but it came faster and the Conqueror wasn’t able to counter in time. Chains slapped against the Invader’s broad, chiseled chest, causing a moment of shock across the the man’s face.

“… arena!”

Eros shouted the last word with such vehemence and fury that that flurry of chains paled in comparison to his cry. The Conqueror had to retreat three whole steps back to swing his goblet in the direction of the oncoming chains just to produce enough coverage to block them all. Still, some of them made it through and slapped against the titanic Invader’s frame.

“You had…” panted Eros, lurching forward. “… you had everything. But all you cared about was your… fucking Arena.” A bitter laugh left the Wizard’s lips. “And you want to know the hilarious part…?”

Cody finally moved. He ran up to Eros and gently caught the Wizard before he tumbled over. Eros gave him a nod of thanks but continued to stare daggers at the Conqueror.

“You… You… You didn’t even know why you wanted to preserve your Arena!”

Those words struck Cody as both odd and depressing. Turning to look at the Conqueror, he was left wondering if the Invader came to the same realization. To dedicate his life to a singular pursuit but not know why seemed like one of those things that anyone would question at some point. But did the Conqueror question his purpose now? After all that had happened, did he ask why he was doing what he was doing?

The Conqueror straightened, rolling his slightly bruised shoulders. “Little did you know that you gave me a reason.”

Eros went rigid in Cody’s grip. “What…?” he croaked.

A sardonic smile touched the Invader’s lips. “I was trapped in the Crossex for what seemed like an eternity. I felt your judgmental gaze upon me. I sensed when you turned away searching for whatever it is that you desired. You left me in that chaotic void with nothing but my own sins to dwell upon. And I realized…” The Conqueror shrugged. “You were right.”

Again, Eros pulled his head back in surprise. “I… I was?”

He was…?

‘He’s admitting he was wrong?’ echoed Gladiator-Cody. ‘That’s… never happened before.’

“Yes,” answered the Conqueror, taking a moment to stare pensively at the goblet in his enormous hand. “I was narrow minded. Focused on a singular goal centered around my Arena. Obsessed with making it the best and keeping it there. When something tarnished my reputation despite the warnings, I threw everything I had to reclaim my lost glory.” The Conqueror lifted his goblet into the air. “My isolation taught me that defeat was not the end. I can make something new of myself so long as I drew breath! Yes, my Arena was sent into ruin. Yes, I fell into your trap and was imprisoned in the Crossex. Yes, you have defeated my Champion and triumphed against all other challenges!”

An ominous rumble suddenly shook the Arena. Eros was forced to hold onto Cody who similarly clutched onto him to make sure the Wizard didn’t topple over. The slick, white goo in the Conqueror’s goblet began to bubble and roil ferociously.

“You can knock me down but so long as am still here, I will rise up again even if it is as something new!”

A jet of creamy, white goo erupted from his goblet, shooting straight up into the air in a focused beam that disappeared into the distance above them. It went on for a good minute before abruptly stopping.

“My reign, while far from eternal, is inevitable! I will always come back!”

‘Hero!’ Gladiator-Cody exclaimed.

I know!

“It’s raining down!” Cody shouted and immediately flung his black cape over himself and Eros. Hot, thick splatters of the liquid came falling down around them, landing on his cape but not touching his or Eros’ flesh. Behind him, Marcelos rushed towards the unconscious former-Champion and summoned a dome of ice that immediately shielded him, Theodore and Knox from the oncoming rain.

Eros grimaced. “Gods, do I honestly sound like that?” The Wizard glanced up to Cody with a lopsided, exhausted grin. “Genuinely. Every time I swear that I will break out of the dungeons and return with a vengeance. Do I make such long-winded speeches?”

Cody gave his long-time-nemesis a little smirk. “Just a little bit. Your speeches are more entertaining, though. You don’t nearly talk about yourself as much. It’s more about the disparity in the world, how unfair society is and the flaws in our very universe.” He made a circle by rotating his wrist. “You’re a little more… meta.”

He frowned briefly. Such a term was not something he was used to. While he was sure he knew what being ‘meta’ meant, he wasn’t sure how he knew. It was a feeling he had felt a while back but hadn’t returned since he began fighting the Conqueror. For the moment, he shook his head free of the thought.

“Different sides of my, I suppose,” Eros huffed. “Not sure the other Invaders will be any better but we need to stop the one right in front of us first.” He grimaced, trying to keep himself up on his staff but wavering. “I don’t have a lot in my reserves. If you expect me to fight, I’m afraid I can only annoy him at this stage or send a few sharp barbs his way.”

The rain of cum began to ease.

We’re all running on our last breaths. We have to defeat the Conqueror quickly or find some weakness in him.

He looked to Gladiator-Cody for advice but the ghostly apparition merely shrugged.

‘The Conqueror never took the field personally. I do not know how he would fight.’ Then the gladiator raised a finger. ‘But your Wizard friend there is the master of the Crossex. Perhaps he can use it to his advantage?’

It was worth a try.

“You’re still a master of the Crossex, right?” Cody suggested.

“Far from a ‘master’ but I suppose I was the first of my iterations to find and utilize it. Why?”

“Everything the Conqueror does is infused with the Crossex’s energy. It’s how he can warp his surroundings and the people he infects into his minions, right? Do you think you can tap into that energy? Use it to our advantage?”

Eros narrowed his gaze a moment, his lips moving as he puzzled over quiet equations. “I would need time. Days. Weeks. Even months.” Then he nodded. “But I might be able to do something. Keep him off me and I’ll do my best.”

The last droplets of cum fell on Cody’s cloak and he straightened, tearing off the heavy, soaked cloak and throwing it aside. It landed on the wet sands with a loud, heavy splat.

“Your Highness, Theodore, Knox!” he shouted. “Are you alright?”

The dome of clear, blue ice was soaked in cum but it looked like none went through. The wall shifted, moving aside to offer a path for his three companions to emerge relatively unharmed.

“We’re fine,” Marcelos answered, his voice weak. Their gazes met and then, as one, turned towards the Conqueror who was standing triumphantly, grinning broadly at them, challenging them. “But we need to finish this quickly.”

“Attack him as one!” barked Cody. He briefly nodded at Eros. “He can’t fight us all off!”

Then he charged, massive sword over his shoulder. The Conqueror scoffed. White goo sprang from his goblet, twisting and shaping into an enormous arm above him. That arm came slamming down upon Cody. The Hero dove feet first, just barely avoiding being squished by the slimy, magical appendage. He swung his sword above his head, slicing right through the arm and collapsing the construct. A wave of seed splashed behind him while he rolled to the side and broke back into a run. His huge sword reduced into his own slime, transforming back into his dual-dildos.

The Conqueror didn’t even bother moving from his spot as the severed arm split into two more and surged towards him. Crackling bolts of golden lighting struck the Conqueror’s wrist holding the goblet, forcing the muscles and nerves there to seize up. By extension, the two slimy limbs froze. Marcelos thrust his rapier at the Invader, lances of lightning shooting from the tip and striking the Conqueror.

Annoyance showed on the Conqueror’s face. One of the arms collected liquid into one of its palms, forming a big, spherical ball of slime before hurling it straight at Marcelos. The Prince dashed aside, conjuring a layer of ice at his feet which he used to give himself more speed to avoid being covered in cum.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Three bullets struck the Conqueror’s forehead, each one landing at the same spot one after the other. A faintly pink cloud emanated from the liquid that dripped down from the scattered bullets, seeping into the Invader’s nostrils and stirring his dick from its slumber.

“Don’t think your paltry tricks will work on me,” boomed the towering giant, turning towards Theodore. “It will take more than a few sweet scents and musky bullets to stir my arousal.”

Knox was suddenly sidling up to the Conqueror. “Ain’t lookin’ ta arouse, ya big guy!” He then swung his lute like a bat, bashing it against the Conqueror’s exposed balls. There was a resounding Ka-twang that made even Gladiator-Cody wince. “Jus’ lookin’ ta pound ya into submission. ‘Less yer inta that sorta thin’.”

Even a blow like that was enough to get the Conqueror to pause and stagger forward, his face red with exertion. “You dirty little rat! That was a low blow!”

Knox smirked, pulling his lute back. “Yer fault fer leaving yer family jewels exposed.”

Ka-twang!

He swung the instrument again, slamming it against the side of the Conqueror’s head with enough force that it made the Invader actually turn his head slightly. A savage growl touched the Conqueror’s face and he lashed out with his spare hand at Knox…

… only for Cody to finally make it to him.

The Hero slammed both of his dildo-blades against the Conqueror’s arm in one mighty blow. The impact was enough to force the titan’s enormous arm to bend and buckle, knocking him off balance. Cody immediately went on the offensive. He became a whirlwind of blows. Each swing was met with a satisfying, dull thud as his blunt blades struck the Conqueror’s hard, armor-like, muscled body. Blow after blow followed, building bruises across the Conqueror’s body.

The Invader grew tired of the strikes and lunged at Cody. His huge hand grabbed Cody’s right arm, nearly consuming his entire forearm. The pressure was intense, like his bones were caught in a vice. The pain was nothing compared to what the Hero had experienced previously and he fought through the pain.

The dual-dildos dissolved into liquid that reformed into the enormous, sharp blade again. Cody grabbed it with his free hand and brought it crashing down against the Conqueror’s arm, the one grabbing him. It bit hard into the muscle, striking the bone like it had just struck hard metal. Still, it had sliced through flesh and for the first time, the Conqueror showed an injury.

Cody was immediately released as the Conqueror pulled back, roaring in pain as blood burst from his arm. Or at least it should have been blood. A thick, brackish, ichor that was tinged with a purplish sheen oozed out of the wound.

He’s not even human anymore.

“You will pay for that!” snarled the Invader, clutching the wound on his arm. The black ooze dripped from between his enormous fingers… and began to float away from him in small globules. His eyes followed the droplets all the way to Eros Virgo.

The Wizard stood, eyes closed and with his staff planted in the ground in front of him. Eros was muttering spells and incantations quickly under his breath, gently rocking back and forth as he manifested magic around him. Cum that had stained and soaked the sands began to ooze out of the golden granules, swirling around him in a quickening storm.

“What…?” breathed the Conqueror. His glowing, red eyes widened when a single leaf from the laurel he wore ripped off the band and drifted towards Eros. “No! You will stop!”

‘That’s it!’ bellowed Gladiator-Cody. ‘He’s rattled! Press the advantage!’

Just as the Conqueror was rising, Cody shouted, “Keep him off Eros!”

The Hero got to his feet, transforming his blade back into his spear. The Conqueror rose to his feet and ran towards the Wizard, each step like a boom of thunder. With his superior height and supernatural speed, he was already halfway to Eros before Cody had fully manifested his spear. Cody took aim and hurled the spear.

It struck true, jamming itself right into the Conqueror’s ass with just enough power and precision that the mighty Invader of the Arena let out a roar, arched his back and stumbled. His mighty cock sprang to attention and immediately spurted out a rush of semen. His seed swirled through the air, joining the maelstrom of Crossex energy that was gathering around Eros.

Arcane runes began drawing themselves in purple energy around Eros’ feet, forming a magic circle that grew with each passing moment. The cum and Crossex energy swirling around him infused itself into the runes, intensifying their light and spreading them further and further.

“I will not let you…!” snarled the Conqueror, taking a shaking step forward. “This is my Arena!”

Suddenly, there was a Glandiator right behind the Conqueror, one wielding another spear. He seized the one already embedded into the Conqueror’s ass, yanked it out and then jammed his own back into the abused hole. Over and over, he impaled the Invader, eliciting a rumbling groan from the Conqueror. Marcelos stood off to the side, gritting his teeth, sweat dripping from his brow while holding a gloved hand towards his summoned Glandiator.

“Every arena is meant to be conquered,” breathed the Prince. “Every challenge overcome. There is no entertainment, no purpose, no value in a venue that always wins.”

He let out a shout and thrust his rapier forward at the Conqueror. Ice burst from the ground around the Invader, wrapping around his massive form but strangely keeping his crotch, including his erect cock, exposed. The Glandiator vanished in a shower of glistening magical energies.

Marcelos grimaced, took a step back. With a shaking hand, he drew a circle through the air with the tip of his blade, arcane runes appearing from the path his sword cut through the air. “That is the lesson you failed to learn in your introspection!” His gaze hardened. “Now! Goblin Cocksucker! Go!”

The familiar green goblin sprang up from his magic circle and bounced upon the Conqueror’s massive dick, stimulating the member with all the passion and hunger of a blue-balled gremlin. The Conqueror was powerless and even though he roared and thrashed from within his icy prison, he could not stop from ejaculating. An even bigger torrent of cum burst from his dick. The blast was powerful enough that it sent the goblin sailing off his body, sending it crashing into the nearby wall where it splattered into a burst of energy.

The streak of cum he ejected joined the growing storm around Eros but it also dripped upon the ice. The heat from his body and seed weakened the hold on his body and, with a roar, he burst out of his prison.

“I am the Conqueror of the Arena!”

The Invader stormed forward, closing the gap between himself and Eros. Then there was a flurry of red between his legs. Theodore skidded feet first between the Invader’s mighty thighs, wielding both of his guns at the same time. He fired straight upwards, the accuracy of his aim frightening as four of his bullets shot right into the rear of the Conqueror and made the Invader squirm and pause. The rest rattled against those enormous testicles before slamming into the underside of the Conqueror’s chin.

Theodore then sprang to his feet in one, smooth movement. The knight-ranger jumped into the air, planting both his feet on the Conqueror’s thick, erect cock and used it as a springboard to leap high into the air. He tilted his body through the air, twisting himself until he was perfectly upside-down and angling his guns right into the Conqueror’s gaping maw; a maw that had been forced to jerk upwards because of his earlier shots.

A rapid series of gunshots erupted from Theodore’s pistols, launching projectiles right down the Conqueror’s throat. The Invader’s frame shook, shuddered and twitched as he directly swallowed the powerful aphrodisiacs that Theodore had concocted. Gravity eventually took over and Theodore had to turn back around and land squarely behind the Invader.

The Conqueror swallowed and grimaced even as his cock throbbed in reaction to all the stimulants he had imbibed. Somehow, he still managed to take a step forward…

… only to hear the strum of a lute.

Knox, standing with his back to the Conqueror, absently tapped the enormous cock that was just hovering over his shoulder.

“Ya may be th’ Conqueror of th’ Arena, lad,” said the bard, running his finger down the length of that vascular member. “But ya cum like a pimply lad that’s just had his first wank. Sensitive to the touch an’ beggin’ fer more. So ‘ere a lil’ bit ‘o advice from someone’s that’s enjoyed dicking about an’ bein’ dicked.”

Knox turned away from the Conqueror, plucking a single string, letting out a single chime. The Conqueror’s cock immediately spasmed and he let out a tremendous roar. Semen burst from the member as all of the little marks that Knox had quietly placed on the Invader’s member while he was distracted by Theodore fired off in rapid succession. The torrent of seed came out like an unstoppable, white, creamy waterfall. Pulled by the gravity of Eros’ magic, the river of cum swirled around the Wizard, the magical runes around his feet multiplying until they had engulfed the entire sandy ring.

“Don’ be a prude,” Knox finished. “An’ get fucked.”

The Conqueror glared at the bard and almost reached for him but when bolts of purple lightning began descending from the heavens and striking the ground around Eros, he was drawn back to his target. He took a staggering step forward. Weakness from ejaculating three times in rapid succession overtook him. The Invader stumbled to his knees. For the first time, he let go of the golden goblet he was always seen holding. Every leaf on his laurel peeled away and was swept up in the tornado raging around Eros.

“I will not be banished!” he bellowed. “I am part of this world now! I will return!”

Eros’ eyes suddenly sprang open, crackling with purple lightning. “Not if I have something to say about it!” He lifted his staff into the air, the raging winds picking up into a tremendous how. “Now! Make him cum one more time!”

Cody glanced about. Everyone was spent. Theodore was out of ammo. Knox’s fingers were still bleeding and despite his smile, he was shaking. Marcelos was visibly quaking. Eros was occupied.

There was nothing they could do. He had even thrown his weapon at the Conqueror…

Unless…

‘What are you thinking…?’ Gladiator-Cody asked warily.

Cody tore the helmet off his head as the Conqueror took a triumphant step towards Eros. “Remember when we first met? How you told me we had to talk and that there was one thing I needed to do first?”

‘Yes…’

“Well, I’m finally going to do what you told me to.”

Cody roared and charged but first, he threw his metal helmet straight at the Conqueror’s head. The Invader still had good reflexes despite his exhausted state. With one, massive hand, the Conqueror swatted the metal helmet away, turning to face Cody. But that helmet was never meant to deal damage. It was just meant to force the Invader to turn towards the Hero.

Because in that moment, Cody jumped into the air, putting all his weight and power into his legs. The Conqueror’s eyes widened in shock, his mouth which had been twisted into a sneer, opened in complete and utter surprise. Marcelos’ brow furrowed in confusion, a soundless ‘What the…?’ emitting from his lips. Theodore frowned a little, eyebrows rising; a look of utter respect. Knox’s grin became lewd, one eyebrow raised and a look of smug arousal on his face. Eros blinked rapidly for a few seconds.

Cody Wilder, Hero of the Hub, had jumped nearly nine feet into the air, crossing the last few paces between himself and the Conqueror… and angled his erect dick right into the Conqueror’s gaping maw. Time seemed to slow like all the universe had to take an entire minute to reboot after the sheer ridiculous sight, take a few pictures and then compose itself after another minute before allowing the clock to start again.

TWHACK!

Cody’s crotch slammed into the Conqueror’s face, his dick sliding down the Invader’s throat with surprising ease. He grabbed onto the back of the Conqueror’s head for balance while his huge thighs wrapped around that thick neck, securing himself in place. The impact of his massive, muscle body at such an angle and trajectory was enough to cause the Conqueror to staggered back and momentarily loose his balance. The Invader waved his arms through the air comically, trying to balance himself.

Then Cody began thrusting.

Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!

With all the power of his hips, Cody facefucked the Conqueror and that was enough to cause the titan of a man to topple to the ground. Sand was kicked up from the impact of their two massive bodies colliding with the earth. And still Cody fucked the Conqueror.

Thwack! Fap! Slap! Slurp!

The Conqueror’s hands reached up, seizing Cody’s thighs. For a second, his fingers dug into the Hero’s quads, scrambling to find purchase against the sweat covered, slick, bulging muscles. The moans started shortly afterwards and that grip became softer, more pleading, more… passionate. The Conqueror’s hands seized Cody’s ass, adding his own strength into each of the Hero’s powerful, merciless thrusts. His hips bucked, lifting his cock higher and higher into the air like he was raising a flagpole. The precum that fell down from his dick grew thicker and thicker with each thrust, the pace between each fap, slurp and plap growing shorter and shorter.

The Conqueror’s balls tightened.

Cody’s cock throbbed.

And then, as one, they came.

A geyser of the Conqueror’s seed burst from the towering pole of man meat, shooting straight into the air and curling around Eros like a serpent readying to strike. For his part, Eros grinned triumphantly and hoisted his staff, held in both hands, high into the air.

“Well, Conqueror of the Arena!” bellowed the Wizard. “Consider yourself…” He slammed the butt of his staff into the ground. “… C_onquered!”_

Blistering purple light erupted from Eros, shooting straight upwards in a scintillating beam of crackling energy that spread rapidly across the entire Arena. Cody was forced to shut his eyes against the blast even as his balls pumped his seed straight into the Conqueror’s throat. A prickling heat tickled his flesh as the light washed over him.

Then he felt himself deflate.

The strength of Gladiator-Cody left him and he found himself shrinking back to his normal self. A sigh of relief washed through him as more and more of his cum poured into the Conqueror. The Conqueror himself went limp under him and the warm embrace of the Invader’s throat around his dick rapidly faded.

… and so did Gladiator-Cody’s presence.

‘I don’t know what your friend did,’ began the specter, his voice rapidly growing quieter. ‘But he’s somehow sending us back. I suppose it was the only way to get rid of us.’

“Wait…” Cody moaned softly but the warmth of afterglow coupled with the exhaustion of two back-to-back fights was taking its toll. Without the body and power of Gladiator-Cody, he was fading fast.

‘Just remember what I told you. The other Cody Wilders are out there. Watching the other Invaders. Make contact. Cum. Only then will you get a fighting chance against the Invaders.’

“…But…”

Cody slumped back, his eyelids growing heavy.

‘Don’t worry. I’ll take care of the Conqueror back in my world. You take care of yours.’

Darkness crept at the corners of his consciousness.

“…Thank… thank…”

‘Yeah, Cody Wilder, Hero of the Hub. Thank you, too.’

Main Street

The Village of Caricatures

Fractured Territories

3 Months after the Crossover

Everything had changed.

The Village of Carthusage had never been the cleanest or even the safest place to live but Benedict had lived in his entire life. Every street, alley, road and home was as familiar to him as the back of his hand. He and his many brothers had all been born in Carthusage. Being just a week or so of travel from the capital them to spread out all over the land of Aerosycia. Only Benedict had stayed in their place of birth as a humble fisherman.

But as he padded along the brilliant, golden-yellow cobblestones of the village on his bare, calloused feet while gazing upon the picturesque homes he was beset by an unfamiliar feeling. Each house was picturesque with white concrete walls decorated with crawling vines and brilliantly red, tiled rooftops. The roads were perfectly tidy with each brick placed perfectly without any one out of place. The air was blissfully clean, crisp and held a hint of sweetness that was both strange but also intoxicating.

“What in tarnation…?” he mumbled, scratching his curly, dark brown hair under the broad, yellow straw hat. “What happened to my village? What happened to my home?”

The river that ran through the middle of the village and fed into the nearby lake was pristine, clean and without a trace of fecal matter or trash. The streets were missing that familiar stink of piss and cheap booze. Lush trees sprouted between homes, providing shade and shocks of verdant green to break the monotony of the similar-looking houses. Even the sky seemed much clearer and bluer than before if that was at all possible.

“Everything has… changed!” Benedict gasped, pulling a hand towards his lips. “I don’t recognize any of this!”

His cries of surprise were left unheard. The streets were completely abandoned and as he strode through these strange roads that looked like they had come out of a children’s fantasy, he voiced the same aloud.

“What happened to all the people? Where is everyone?” Cupping his hands over his lips, he shouted, “Hello? Anyone there?”

No one responded. Not even his own echo.

“Nothing…” he breathed, sounding more confused than fearful. “No one is here. The whole town can’t just up and vanish… can it?”

The heat of the sun prickled at the back of his neck. With one big hand, he wiped the sweat away and wiped his damp hands on his dirty, blue overalls placed over a filthy, white shirt that was stained with dirt and sweat.

Wandering the streets, he tried to probe his memory for any reason for such a change. Was there something in the town meeting about this? Did the mayor say anything? Any rumors?

No.

No one had said anything. When he had left before dawn for his normal fishing run by the lake, everything seemed normal. Now, just a little past noon, he couldn’t fathom how the entire town could just be replaced. That was, unless, he had somehow gotten lost and taken a wrong turn on his way back from the lake. Which, in itself, was impossible. He had followed the same path he always did. There was no way he could have gotten turned around.

Then a thought occurred to him. Something he had heard in passing but never minded. Worldly news was never something he concerned himself with. That was for the kings and heroes to worry about. As a simple fisherman, he just went out every morning hoping to get a bite for something to sell to market.

But something about this news stuck out to him.

“Gosh… Could this be one of them ‘Incursions’?” he wondered aloud

There had been rumors and fears that had been sweeping the land ever since the Hero’s most recent victory. Refugees from other towns and even other nations past the Hub had rushed towards the central region of Aerosycia talking about strange occurrences and ‘Invaders’ that twisted and warped the very ground they walked on. But Benedict never thought that such a thing would occur so close to home, so close to the Hub.

Strangely, he felt no fear. He was more… curious that fearful. His brothers always said he was a little slow. He liked to think he was just braver than them.

Spurred on more out of curiosity than fear, he proceeded to explore these new surroundings. It was not long before he found someone. Off in the distance down one perfectly shaped road, he spotted a figure that seemed to have caught sight of him as well. The man was not someone he recognized but he was at least comforted by the knowledge that it was a man and not some monster as the refugees had warned.

Excitement jumped to his throat and he began waving towards the figure in the distance.

“Hello there!” he shouted. “I need help!”

The figure went rigid, turned and began to turn away. Benedict frowned briefly.

“Why is he running away?” A little spark sprang to life in his head. “Oh. He must think I’m a monster. I better follow him and make sure he knows I mean no harm.”

Poor, innocent Benedict scrambled after the man, his bare feet pumping across the warm cobblestones. “Sir! Please wait! I’m friendly! I am from a village that used to be right here! Please, I need your help!”

The figure bolted towards a nearby house and grabbed the door, stopping long enough for Benedict to catch up. As he approached, Benedict appraised this man. Certainly not one of the villagers he had grown up with. He would have recognized those bright red pants or those brilliantly red suspenders. A white collared shirt covered the man’s broad, muscular torso. The sleeves of the shirt were rolled up to reveal thick, meaty forearms. Pure white hair covered the man’s head while a short, white beard hugged his broad features. A pair of glasses with black rims hung on the man’s face and leather boots covered his big, broad feet.

The man turned to him with a scowl.

“Quit yer yellin’, boy!” he snarled in a voice that rumbled like an earthquake. “Yer gonna bring th’ beasts on us!”

Benedict immediately froze. “Ah…!”

The man suddenly pushed open the door he was in front of, swinging it wide and open. “Now get yer ass in here before whatever ya called with yer yappin’ comes fer it!”

The harsh tone, commanding presence and the fact that this man stood at well past eight feet tall snapped Benedict to attention. Memories of his father’s disciplinary lessons made Benedict immediately obey.

“Sir! Yessir!” he exclaimed, charging into the house.

The stranger slammed the door shut behind Benedict, pressing his huge back against it and gesturing for the fisherman to get down low. A moment of strained silence passed. Shadows moved across the windows and Benedict had to clasp his hands over his mouth to keep himself from screaming. Those silhouettes did not seem human.

This was an Incursion.

When the shadows passed, the stranger beckoned for Benedict to remain quiet for a little longer, pressing a finger against his lips. After a few more moments past, they both let out a sigh of relief.

“Good,” rumbled the white-haired man. “We should be safe here.”

“Safe from what?” Benedict asked softly. “What were those things?”

The man gave him a critical stare, frowning suspiciously. “The Intruders. Where’ve ya been, boy? Livin’ under a rock?”

Benedict shook his head helpless. “I just… I didn’t think we’d get an Incursion here.”

An exasperated look crossed the stranger’s features and he ran a big, hairy hand down his face. Benedict noted that this man wore white gloves and strangely only had three fingers on each hand excluding his thumb. “Gods above… Ya didn’t notice th’ town ain’t right? All the colors? No people? Hell, th’ roads are too perfect!” He gestured at Benedict’s bare feet. “Surely, ya would’ve felt sumthin’!”

The fisherman’s gaze dropped. “I did think the town was different. Everything was too… good? Didn’t seem real. Like it was all… drawn by a child.”

“And ya jus’ strolled right in without a care in th’ world?” snarled his rescuer.

With a helpless shrug, Benedict said, “I didn’t know what was going on. I wasn’t sure. And I’ve never been in an Incursion before. First thing I tried to do was find help.”

The stranger’s deep, black eyes rolled in frustration as he sighed. “Damn me if I do’t got a soft spot fer funny idiots like you…” He got up and began moving through the home, strangely quiet with his steps despite his size. “Name’s Terry. What’s yers?”

“Benedict,” answered the fisherman, wringing his hands nervously. “Benedict the Kicked.”

Terry gave him a puzzled look as he rummaged behind a few wooden boxes. The house was strangely clean even though it didn’t look like it had been inhabited for a long while. There was a layer of dust everywhere. “The Kicked?” he repeated. “What kind o’ mother wud name their own son ‘the Kicked’?”

Benedict grinned sheepishly. “Well… I kinda earned that nickname because… Well…” He slapped the side of his head with the heel of his palm. “… people keep saying I’ve been kicked in the head too many times.”

Terry’s thick, white eyebrows lifted slightly and that scowl on his face softened. “ Ah… I’m sorry, boy. Ain’t nobody deserve that kind o’ treatment.”

“It’s alright. I’m used to it.” Benedict slowly got up. “Is there anything I can do to help you, Mr. Terry?”

“Jus’ Terry,” answered the stranger, holding up his strange, gloved hands. “And yea, if we’re gonna get outta here safely, you gotta do exactly as I say, got it?” Benedict nodded quickly. The stranger suddenly went back to his growling and snarling. “Good. Firs’ thin’, keep yer trap shut. The Intruders and the Invaders got keen ears an’ I ain’t gonna be their next meal.”

Benedict lowered his gaze again, feeling like a child being scolded. “Yessir. I’ll be sure ot keep quiet from now on.”

“See that ya do!” Terry turned back towards the crates and retrieved what looked like a heavy, brown sack. Could have been used to store potatoes and it jostled with something contained within. “Now, take this sack. There’s a basement filled with food down there.” He pointed at the trap door at the far end of the room. “Been collectin’ supplies ta leave town. Fill ‘er up as best ya can.”

He took the offered sack. The weight immediately pulled him towards the ground but he planted his feet and somehow managed to keep it from hitting the ground. “Ooof! This bag is heavy! What’s in it?”

“Unlike yer stupid ass, I’ve been scoutin’ an’ foragin’,” Terry growled. “ Even if we get outta this god-forsaken town, we ain’t gonna survive out in the wild without some supplies. And seein’ as I’m feedin’ two now, we’re gonna need more supplies.”

Benedict’s heart lifted up in joy. “Wow! You sure know what you’re doing, sir! You’re an expert at surviving these Incursion things!”

Terry snarled at him though there was this faint twinge in the corners of his lips that was the faintest whisper of a smile. “What did I jus’ say ‘bout talkin’?” He pushed the fisherman towards the basement door. “Now git!”

Fighting back his own smile, Benedict opened the basement door as quietly as possible and headed down into the dark. The basement itself was only lit by a small ground-level window at the far end, making most of the room gloomy. Just as Terry had indicated, however, there was an abundance of food and supplies. Mostly dried fruit, sacks of produce tied in sacks and containers to keep vermin out and jars filled with preserves. There were a few pieces of cured meats hanging from the ceiling. This had to be the larder of a large family.

Benedict felt a little guilty for stealing their hard-earned food but he knew this was a case of survival of the fittest. There was no telling what had happened to those people during the Incursion. From what he recalled, women and children were treated the most harshly. Either completely ignored, banished or forced out of the territories to fend for themselves. Men were taken somewhere else and never heard of ever again. Some old war mercenary and veteran of wars once told the fisherman that it was a common tactics to separate the men, women and children. Women may instill hatred in the hearts of their offspring but it would be years before they would ever be capable of fighting back. Men, who were most capable, would not be there to train the children and without their seed, could not rebuild a nation.

The only conclusion was that they were truly being invaded.

Invaded by strange, powerful forces and not just by one… but by multiple factions.

The young fisherman pulled himself out of his gloomy reverie and dragged the sack to the center of the basement where he began collecting some of the food there.

“That old man sure was grumpy,” he sighed softly to himself, careful not to raise his voice for Terry to hear. He was no fool but he still recalled the large, grumpy man’s words. “Suppose he could have been nicer to me seeing as we’ll be working together but I understand. His home has been destroyed. Been happening all over the land with these Incursions.”

With a few jars and raw produce collected, he turned towards the sack offered.

“I wonder what’s already in here… Let’s have a look.”

He undid the small rope that was tied around the lip of the sack and peered inside. A rancid smell immediately wafted into his nostrils. A scent that was a mix of sweat after a day of work, musk from a man’s crotch and a strangely cloying sweet smell like berries that had been cooked in sugar. Inside the sack was a thick, white substance that sloshed but somehow did not seep through the satchel’s fibers.

“Huh…?” he whispered, leaning closer and sniffing the substance. After the initial breath, it didn’t seem so offensive. “Is… Is this milk?” He dipped a finger into the liquid. It was warm and pushed back against his finger a little. Not fully fluid or runny but had a little bit of thickness to it. “No… Too thick. Cream?”

Benedict shook his head in confusion. “Why would anyone put cream in a sack?” He tilted his head as he brought back his finger to his face, a slick layer of the cream dripping down his hand. “Is it even good?”

As always, Benedict the Kicked didn’t really think and brought his finger to his lips, tasting the goo. It was offensively salty but had a sweet aftertaste that just seemed wrong. The feeling it left on his mouth was bizarre. Slime covered the entire interior of his mouth making the strange mix that reminded him a little of liquid caramel pushed to the extreme.

“Urgh…” he coughed, spluttering to get the substance off his tongue. “Why is it salty? Is he trying to make cheese?”

He shook his head and turned back towards the piles of food that he had started to gather. There was no way he could submerge any of the dried food in that gunk. Unless it was some sort of preservative. He had known salt to help food last longer. That was what he did with some fish that he caught. Perhaps it was not for consumption after all and was some sort of magical chemical that should be washed off before the food inside was cooked and eaten.

Regret began bubbling in his chest at even touching what could have potentially be a poisonous substance when he felt a strange tingling sensation on the tip of his fingers. His soft, brown eyes turned towards his hand, searching for the source of the strange feeling like a bee was quietly dancing on his fingernail.

To his surprise, there was a thick layer of the white goo still wrapped around the tip of his finger going down to the first knuckle. Which was strange because he could have sworn he had licked everything off. His confusion intensified when he watched the goo spread further down his finger, coating the appendage like a spreading infection. The tingling sensation preceded the spread of the substance.

“Wait… What’s going on!?” he cried. Suddenly aware that his shout might attract the Intruders, he immediately pulled both his hands to his lips. His brain took an entire second to register how that was a mistake. Thankfully, he had enough instinct to keep his uninfected hand under his slime-covered one so more of the rapidly spreading substance didn’t slide into his lips.

That did mean, however, his other hand now made contact.

He pulled both his hands away from his face in terror. The thick, white slime was now spreading over both his hands, the tingling intensifying rapidly.

“It’s… it’s spreading…” he whispered with increasing panic. Spinning his hands back and forth only seemed to cause the goo to spread further until it had covered his palms completely and spread all the way up to his wrists. Only then did it abruptly stop.

“Are… Are these… gloves!?” he gasped. For a brief moment, he thought back to Terry. How the enormous, towering man with the perfectly white hair, intimidating but powerful frame and that sexy rumble of his also wore gloves. Thinking about the towering man sent a different kind of tingling through his body. This time, it focused around his modest cock and he quickly found himself growing aroused.

It took all of his effort to resist the urge to reach towards his overalls and grope himself.

“Why… why am I suddenly so… so hard?” he groaned. The effort of trying to process these strange sensations while simultaneously trying to puzzle out what was happening was too much for his mind and he fell to his knees. His brain needed the extra processing power from keeping his balance just to keep itself from overheating especially now as he was growing hotter and hotter.

A strange sound erupted from between his lips.

A soft but very clear squeak.

His eyes boggled and his hands immediately went towards his lips again. However, he resisted the urge to touch the strangely comfortable, silky gloves from touching his face.

“What is happening to me…?”

A quake wracked his body and he stumbled onto his rear with a soft thump, his bare feet splayed out in front of him. His gaze fell towards the crotch of his overalls where his throbbing member was tenting the fabric. Fear rose from his chest followed by the rapid breathing of uncontrollable arousal. His gloved hands were actively shaking, inching closer and closer towards his throbbing member like it was a lightning rod. Each pulse send commands up his body, summoning his fingers to offer release.

“Gods,” he whimpered. “I’ve never been this… this horny before…! I… I have to…”

A faint rumbling emerged from his stomach as he could not resist the siren song of his arousal and unbuttoned his overalls, releasing his throbbing cock from its imprisonment. He was sure it looked bigger than before. Concerns over size or even swelling due to some allergic reaction were wiped from his mind by an overwhelming primal desire. All sense of self-preservation was a little too slow to catch up to his body as he seized his dick in one hand and began to furiously fap to some unheard beat. The rush of stimulation from the motion pushed his doubts further back into the recesses of his mind.

“What’s… come… over me…?” he panted. “My… my hands are moving on their own. My cock is… it’s…” His eyes widened as his fears were confirmed. Amidst the strokes that brought him closer and closer to orgasm he felt each lap along his length get longer, his grip around is member widening and the pounding getting harder and harder.

“It’s growing!” he gasped.

Benedict’s other hand snaked out, seizing his member tightly like he could hold down the swelling through sheer force alone. But the two gloved hands only worked in tandem to stroke his member faster and faster with greater urgency. He bit his lip, an instinctive attempt to use pain to curb the burning desire within him; a burning that caused his lightly tanned skin to turn bright read and sweat to soak his clothes.

“Fuck!” he cursed through gritted teeth. “Getting… so… hot! My body… Everything is shaking! Throbbing!”

Then an ominous noise cut through the pulsing.

Crack!

A new sensation shot up from his feet. A spasm followed by bolts of relief and release like someone had just popped the knuckle on his toe as part of a massage. Somehow, he managed to tear his focus away from his throbbing member, down the length of his pants and towards his feet… which had been partially submerged in the thick, white soup that had poured out of the sack he had left unattended.

“No… It can’t be…!” he gasped, his whole body shuddering. Another soft, shuddering squeak left his lips. “It’s… It’s the cream! Something in the cream!”

To his horror, he watched as his toes cracked, twisted and lengthened. His toenails sharpened into points. Dense, light brown fur that matched his hair began springing from his ankles, rapidly sweeping up his calves but strangely leaving his feet mostly untouched. Though the deep blush throughout his whole body did turn them a peculiar shade of pink.

Rrrrrrip!

The hem of his overalls began riding up from his ankles. Wave after wave of pulsating pleasure erupted from his dick with each of his fevered strokes. Each wave crashed against the limits of his flesh, pushing him outward from the inside. He bit on his lower lip a little harder. His eyes widened and he immediately pulled his lips apart, running his tongue over his two front teeth. They were bigger than before and as he held his taste buds against them, he could feel them getting bigger still.

“Squeak!” he whimpered. “My… my face…!” The pulses hammered his skull from within, forcing it forward with a series out loud cracks and rumbling that sounded like old, dry autumn leaves being crushed under foot. The same force pounded against his ears, drowning all other noises from around him save for the beating of his own heartbeat. The tears and shredding of his clothes broke through occasionally but it as his ears were pushed to the top of his head and flared out into two, big, rounded dishes, even those sounds faded.

The pressure in Benedict’s cock suddenly hit its limit and he tumbled back, slamming into the wooden crates behind him with a soft thud. His eyes fluttered and he let out a series of choking squeaks as his dick erupted and shot bursts of seed straight onto his chest. Each blast was accompanied by a fresh, powerful wave that pushed against out from the inside. His hips thrust into the air with one blast and his face fully extended into a big, long muzzle. Another burst and the same light brown fur spread all over his face, sweeping down his chest and just vanishing into his straining shirt. A third shot and -

Rrrrrip!

A long, pink, scaly tail burst from his rear, tearing through the hard material of his overalls and slapped against the ground.

His seed dripped between his gloved fingers, coating them entirely as he slumped into the ground, huffing, panting and squeaking softly. A haze of warm afterglow washed over his mind and dulled his senses further. He barely even noticed when his middle finger and ring finger were glued together by his cum, the fabric of his gloves stitching together. The two digits just slid against one another, flesh and bone melding into one.

Benedict panted, blinking a few times.

“What… what happened…?” he mumbled, dazed and looking around him. “What was I… I doing?”

On instinct alone, he groggily struggled to his clawed feet. “Squeak… Feel… Light headed.” He shuddered a little as his movements caused his cum-covered clothes to press against his flesh. “Urgh… these clothes are soaked…” He sniffed them with his bright, pink nose. “Shit… Made a mess. Hard to think after cumming so hard…” He rubbed his head, stroking his ears and curly hair with his gloved hands like it was perfectly natural. “Urgh… Cock is still so hard.”

A little smile touched his features as his dick sprang to full erect after a moment of rest.

“Oh… still leaking, huh little buddy?” He giggled a little, letting out a soft squeak. “Trying to tell me something?” His dick twitched, seemingly pointing at the sack filled with semen in front of him. That smile on his face grew bigger. “Huh… Maybe you are.”

Benedict bent down towards the sack, his mind starting to clear. “Yeah. The old man gave me this sack. He told me to…” His eyes widened in realization, the dark brown irises fading into a featureless black. “Oh! Squeak! That’s right!”

His thoughts began to clear as he grabbed the supplies he had already set up on the nearby shelves and began putting them into his sack. Each item he shoved into the bag, his cock rewarded him with a joyful burst of seed and a rewarding rush of warmth that caused his entire body to quake.

“Yeah! He told me to pack some supplies!” The former fisherman began squeaking happily. “How could I forget! That’s what I’m good at!”

He began throwing more and more items into the goo of his sack, each one seemingly just bubbling into the slime and disappearing beneath the creamy goo. Each item stored was met with a shot of seed that caused him to shudder and grow a little bigger. Wry muscles built from years of fishing inflated, growing thicker, stronger and built to hoist a heavy sack over his shoulders. The sleeves of his white shirt shredded, peeling back to reveal big, bulging biceps that were covered in the same light brown that has spread down his torso. The neckline of that very same shirt split down the middle, leaving his huge, plate-like pectorals free.

“I am a Pack Rat,” he reaffirmed, grinning to himself broadly. Using his new, huge arms, he swept the items off one of the shelves and let them tumble down into his sack, his growing and throbbing member easing their descent in a shower of seed. “Packing makes me feel so good!”

He barely even noticed when the legs of his overalls tore or when one of the straps snapped. Never took notice that with each step he took, he grew taller to the point where the top of the shelves were at eye level. Didn’t even blink when his shoulders began to brush against the walls or that each item he threw into his sack became lighter than the last.

“Squeak!” he exclaimed. “I love packing shit into my sack! Makes me so squeaking horny!” Just for emphasis, he squeezed his cock, angling it towards the open lip of the brown sack that always seemed to remain at the same size and volume no matter how much he put into it.

His last load felt a little restricting and that was when he noticed his balls were being held by the tough fabric of the overalls. “Urgh… These squeaking clothes are so tight. Need to get rid of them.” He grabbed the remaining strap and tore it in half with one, powerful wrench. All at once, his body swelled, his legs bursting out of the leggings and his balls tearing out of the crotch.

Pack Rat’s whole body heaved, freed from the confines of the clothes and reaching his full mass. All at once, every fiber of his body tenses, large muscles bulging like every bit of him had decided to pour all of his energy into another, joyful eruption of cum. He didn’t resist it. Benedict the Kicked would not have and so Pack Rat definitely would not.

He let out a loud, triumphant squeak and began turning in place. A jet of the same, sticky, white slime contained in the sack burst from his dick, pouring over every shelf, every crate and every item in the basement; claiming it all for Pack Rat. Anyone who ever came in here would have no doubt whom all this stuff belonged to. A broad, satisfied smile crossed his muzzle as he completed a full revolution and his throbbing member finally had some relief.

“Squeak yeah!” he declared, scooping up his sack, tying the rope on the end and hauling it over his huge, muscled shoulders with ease. “This is a good squeaking haul!” Gripping his dick with his other hand, he added, “The cock always knows!”

He licked his lips, tasting the sticky slime that had coated his muzzle. “Now to get back to the Terror. He’ll want to see what I’ve packed for him!”

Pack Rat padded up the steps out of the basement. With each step, his dick vibrated, pointing and tugging him towards new items to claim, new things to pack. His balls jostled in excitement.

When he pushed open the trapdoor into the quaint little house, he found his Invader already standing there, arms folded and grinning brightly at him. Pack Rat recognized him immediately and his cock grew hard for an entirely new reason.

“Oh! Terror!” he exclaimed happily. “You were waiting for me!”

“O’course, Pack Rat,” answered the bearded man with hair a white as snow and towering at a tremendous eight feet tall. Pack Rat stood only at a meager seven-and-a-half feet but it was tall enough to admire his magnificent master’s rippling, naked body. “I’m always lookin’ forward ta seein’ ya.”

Pack Rat beamed brightly, his two, large front teeth flashing. “Would you like to see what I’ve brought you?” He tried not to look at the Terror’s own huge, thick, throbbing erection.

The Terror of Toons, the Invader that had claimed this region and this village, waved the offer with one gloved hand. “Ain’t any need!” The motion sent a pang of disappointment through Pack Rat. “Yer leakin’ like a waterfall down there! I know yer packin’ sumthin valuable!”

That got Pack Rat’s pride and hope shooting back up that he felt like he could fly. “Squeak!” he laughed. “My dick always gives me away!”

A lewd glimmer entered the Terror’s dark eyes and his broad grin became a little more… hungry. “Ya know, expensive loot deserves a big reward.”

Pack Rat bounced on his feet happily, his sack jostling and sloshing behind him. “A reward? For me?”

The Terror reached behind Pack Rat’s head with a gloved hand, the velvety fabric causing the fur on the back of the rat’s neck to rise up in anticipation. The grip gently pulled their faces together. Their cocks touched and ‘kissed’ before their lips ever met.

“Yeah. C’mere, my Pack Rat. Lemme reward ya.”

Pack Rat melted at the touch of their tongues. “Oooooohm… Yeah… I love this… Thank you… This is so…so squeaking good!”

Whatever remained of Benedict the Kicked faded as waves of joy and arousal washed over Pack Rat. The influence of the Terror of Toons dulled even the rat’s single-minded psyche, forming a cage that Benedict could not escape from on his own. In the depths of that roiling ocean of bliss stimulated by deep, savage kissing, enormous, muscular bodies rubbing against one another in the throes of passion and two, titanic dicks celebrating the transformation of a human into an Intruder, the Terror’s voice boomed.

“That’s it. Yer mine ferever. Yer gonna grab everythin’ that ain’t nailed down. Even if it’s some guy’s ass. Yer gonna take their humanity an’ make ‘em jus’ like you. That’s what I love ‘bout ya…”

The Terror’s deep, rumbling laughter echoed in Pack Rat’s ears.

“… my Pack Rat.”

Infirmary

Castle Angelo

The Hub City

4 Months after the Crossover

Cody knocked quietly on the broad, wooden door. When no answer came, he absently tugged at the borrowed, light blue tunic he wore before knocking again. His second series of knocks revealed that the door was unlocked. He peered inside, his heart momentarily getting caught in his chest. Flickering candlelight brought a sigh of relief from his lips. Candlelight meant that Gordon hadn’t abruptly left.

But as he entered the room and heard the shuffling of someone packing their belongings into a backpack, his heart plummeted again.

“You’re leaving after all?” he asked.

Gordon the Rogue looked up from where he was standing over a desk, a simple brown backpack in front of him. “I told you I was,” he said simply.

“Can’t you at least wait until the celebrations are over?” Cody asked, gesturing around him. “The King is going to throw a banquet tonight. Knox’s fingers have healed and he’s going to play ‘Cock of the Conqueror’ for us.” He offered a weak, sheepish grin. “First time it’s ever going to be played outside of the Arena.”

Gordon’s slim shoulders shuddered and he instinctively turned his head. Cody didn’t have to know that his long-time party member and friend was looking through the walls at where the Conqueror’s Arena stood.

Even with the Invader gone, the scars he left on Aerosycia still remained. The Arena itself remained though there was now a constant flux of Crossex energy emanating from it. Particles of black energy emanating a dark blue halo flitted through the air like dust. Vicious purple lightning crackled at odd intervals. An oppressive sensation like the air was just so full of humidity that it became difficult to breathe surrounded the area around the Arena, even beyond its normal limits. That feeling only grew more and more as one got closer to the Conqueror’s private chambers.

Eros spent a few days examining the phenomenon alongside some of the King’s own mages. They came to the same conclusion. The Conqueror, even in his short two weeks on Aerosycia, had wounded the world. He was likened to an infection or a dagger being plunged into a limb. The blade and source of the infection itself - the Conqueror - had been removed but now the body had to heal. The Arena was slowly being eaten away by Aerosycia’s own natural defenses but it would take time. As the days passed, the area that the Arena affected dwindled but it was only by mere inches.

What was worse were the ‘Interlopers’ as Eros had dubbed them. Unlike the Intruders that the Invaders created, the Interlopers were shadows of the monsters that the Conqueror had created. Glandiators but muted into a dull, dark silhouette and tinged with the dark blue aura. They wandered aimlessly, seemingly repeating tasks and motions that their Intruder counterparts once performed.

According to Eros and the mages, the Crossex and the Invaders created a scar in space and time. Now, as the world was healing, these Interlopers were like echoes of those wounds. Mostly harmless and they did not hold the core of a human within them. They just… were. Eros even discovered that defeating and banishing the Interlopers sped up the recovery of Aerosycia and reduced the influence of the Arena even more.

“I’ve celebrated enough,” answered Gordon at length. “We still have so many other Invaders out there.” He continued packing. “Heathcliff has headed to the Yiffdom. Felix went back home into what is know the Kingdom of Men. Mason headed into the dessert, the Weird Wastelands now. So it’s only logical that I head to the only other part where one of our party hasn’t ventured into.” He snapped the pack shut. “The Fragmented Fiefs.”

Cody inhaled sharply. Just a day after their victory, Gordon had already begun preparing to leave. Despite all of the Hero’s protests and pleading, nothing would convince the legendary rogue to stay. Something was gnawing at Gordon’s conscience and Cody only wished that he could be there to provide comfort and reassurance. Sadly, he could not fathom what Gordon had suffered through when he was turned into a Glandiator… or what he was forced to do afterwards.

What he could sympathize with was the compulsion to do something.

To seek redemption.

“You know no one blames you, right?” Cody ventured.

“I do,” Gordon answered. “I’m not strong enough to do things without a whole party. I tried to go out on my own. Thought I was being clever. But that goddamn monster got me.” His hands tightened into fists. “I won’t let that happen again.”

“If you come with us -”

Gordon glanced over his shoulder, his sharp green eyes piercing into Cody’s soul and silencing him. “We’ve been over this, Cody. You’ve got a full enough party and I am not going to be one of those slack-jawed morons sitting at camp cooking stew, fluffing pillows and taking care of pets while everyone else is out making the real difference.”

“You wouldn’t be -”

Again, that piercing, silencing stare. “I’ve made up my mind, Cody.” The Rogue picked up his pack and slung it over his shoulders. As he turned, his coat brushed against the nearby candles, extinguishing them and plunging the room into darkness.

Cody never even heard or felt Gordon slip past him.

“You still remember the Thief Talk that I taught you, right?” Gordon asked, suddenly behind the Hero.

Cody turned, finding his friend’s back to him. “I… Uhm… I could use a refresher.”

Gordon sighed and hiked a thumb over his shoulder. “I left a guidebook on the table. Use that. I’ll go scout the Fiefs ahead and use the Talk to mark any places of interest.” Then Gordon glanced over his shoulder, this time with a warm smile on his face but a sorrowful gleam in his eyes. “And… thanks again for saving me, Cody. You were always there to protect us.”

The Hero of the Hub resigned himself to parting with his friend once more. “And I always will be.” Lifting a hand, he finished with, “Take care of yourself, Gordon.”

The Rogue waved briefly back at him and then was striding down the hallways, vanishing around a corner. Cody felt a tug in his chest at seeing yet another lifelong companion leave but, at the very least, he was grateful to know the man he could always trust to scout ahead, pick a lock or detect a trap was safe.

For now.

Taking a deep breath, he briefly entered Gordon’s room and grabbed the little book wrapped in brown leather sitting on the desk. Then, he left and headed back down to the training grounds at the back of the castle. As he left the castle’s confines, the sounds of celebration returned in earnest. The streets of the Hub were still alive with colors, banners and all sorts of entertainment even now, almost a week after the Conqueror’s defeat. It reminded him a lot of the celebrations that the King threw whenever he defeated the Evil Wizard.

Kind of funny that the reason we’re celebrating like this is because of the Evil Wizard.

Few believed that Eros had actually helped the Hero of the Hub defeat the Conqueror but, at the same time, few cared. Now that the threat of the Conqueror of the Arena had been laid low and their loved ones returned, a sense of euphoria washed over the entire city. Hope had been injected into their hearts. The Invaders and their Intruders could be defeated.

Upon the Conqueror’s defeat, everyone that had been turned into a Glandiator was spontaneously freed. Cody hadn’t been there to see it himself but, from what the survivors described, they spontaneously ‘awoke’ in their Glandiator bodies. Not a moment later, they all ejaculated, one after the other. The moment the last of their cum shot out of their oversized dicks, their entire bodies just burst into a shower of similar fluids like their members couldn’t find anymore cum in their balls so they turned the rest of their mass into semen to eject. The unharmed but very naked human men were left behind, dazed, confused but relieved to be back to their senses.

The trauma would take some time to get over and some had even lost wives and children in the time they had been Glandiators. But at least they were alive. And many burned with vengeance.

Vengeance that Marcelos and Theodore were directing and honing.

As Cody entered the training grounds, he saw a large group of volunteers learning the art of fighting against the Invaders and Interlopers. Marcelos was striding up and down a line of men who where attacking a few training dummies with spears and swords. He was shouting numbers with each one aligning with a position in their fighting stances. All their moves were overtly… sexual in nature. It didn’t pass Cody’s notice that the weapons the men wielded were very… phallic shaped.

Theodore was not too far away, training a second batch of men and making them run through a short obstacle course. Mobility was key against the Invaders and their Intruders. Constantly moving so as not to be captured and turned into one of them. He was barking orders at them as they danced between wooden poles, climbed sheer, wooden walls and crawled through mud.

On the edge of the ring, Eros stood, watching them all with a grim expression.

Cody approached the Wizard and leaned on the wooden fence around the ring. “You could be in a better mood considering our recent victory.”

“It is a minor victory in the grand scheme of things,” Eros scoffed. “One recent Invader who was just amassing his strength and barely had a working garrison in his walls. Against the others who had established themselves over the past few months, we will have a much harder time.” The Wizard gave him a sidelong glance. “And we’re going to be stuck here for another month yet training the city’s defenses. They will get stronger by the time we get to them.”

One of the reasons Cody was hesitant to let Gordon go so soon. The King had finally seen the value in Marcelos’ unique fighting style and had ordered them to train the Hub’s troops and any volunteers in their techniques. It made sense. If the only people who knew how to combat the Invaders were going off to faraway lands to take the fight to the many conquered lands out there, then they needed to ensure that the Hub wouldn’t fall prey to yet another Invader’s forces. It was either spend a month training the troops or potentially be forced to rush back to the City, abandoning their campaign against an Invader and pray the Hub still stood.

“But at least the Arena provides some sort of ‘camouflage’ from them for a while, right?” he ventured.

Eros groaned softly. “So you were listening after all.” The little smug smile on his face faded. “Yes, while the Conqueror’s Arena is in a sort of transitional state, the grounds will offer protection from any other Invaders. No other Invader can claim it. It would make for a suitable evacuation area if needed but since it is also dwindling as the days go by, it would not be the most viable option.” He then nodded towards the men being trained. “Let us not forget as well that the King has specifically suggested on using the Interlopers to practice upon.”

It was a double edged sword. These techniques were foreign to the normal fighting style of the citizens of Aerosycia. While they could practice as much as they could against straw training dummies, it was nothing compared to the real thing. However, because the shadowy Interlopers formed a sort of facsimile of the real thing, the King had suggested that they be put to use. It not only hasted the Arena’s reclamation but gave the men ample practice. Many were already likening the experience to raiding a regenerating dungeon.

“Do you think it’ll be fully gone in a month?”

Eros shook his head. “Of course not. It takes only an instant for a wound to be inflicted and only slightly longer for it to become infected. Recovery, depending on the damage done, can take much longer. If full recovery is even possible.” The Wizard’s features grew sombre. “It is one of the reasons I am so eager to face off against the other Invaders. The longer they stay here, the stronger the infection becomes. The harder it will be to exorcise them.”

Cody tilted his head to the side. “Is that what you did when you banished the Conqueror? Extracted him from our world?”

The Wizard’s bravado returned and he tilted his head away. “Look at you feigning interest in the mystic arts. Perhaps you aren’t such a blockhead after all.” He batted his eyes and pressed a few fingers against his chest. “Or perhaps I am a better magical influence than that pretentious mage you had accompanying you everywhere.”

The Hero scowled. “I’m just wondering if you even knew what you were doing and if you can find a way to do it faster next time. We were very close to losing, you know.” He held out his thumb and forefinger an inch apart. “Especially when you failed to tell us we needed to make him cum one last time for your spell to take effect.” He straightened and waved absently at the Wizard. “And what was with that last line.” Mimicking the Wizard’s gravelly voice with a mocking edge, he said, “‘Well, Conqueror of the Arena! Consider yourself… C_onquered!’”_

“It was the best I could do at the time!” Eros snapped back. “I was tired, sapped of most of my magic and mentally struggling with the existential crisis brought on by being fucked by a virgin version of myself that was effectively a brutish event planner!” The Wizard gently slapped Cody’s shoulder. “I suppose you could have come up with something better?”

Cody absently looked at the clear, blue sky, taking a moment to absorb the peace and serenity of the moment. “Yes,” he answered curtly. “Perhaps something like… ‘Aerosycia will not be conquered’ or ‘Aerosycia is not your arena’.” Then he shrugged. “Or if you were just pressed for time, just say ‘Conquer this!’”

Eros gave him a foul look. “Now you’re just showing off.”

“Comes from years and years of practice from constantly foiling you,” the Hero answered with a little grin. That smile faded quickly however. “But seriously. Did you just… banish him? Back to his world?”

The scowl on Eros’ faced faded and he looked somberly on the ground. “It was the best I could do,” he answered with a grim nod. “It was a crude and ham-fisted way of doing it. Akin to severing a limb to stop the rest of the body from getting infected. That’s why we have the Interlopers.” Eros clucked his tongue. “If I had more time, resources and years of experience, I could have perhaps removed the Conqueror with more precision that didn’t leave the scar that it did on our world.”

The Wizard shook his head miserably. “Ultimately, the Conqueror had become this amalgamation of my desires, his original self and the Crossex that had embedded itself into the very fabric of Aerosycia. If he had just stayed a reflection of me, I could have dealt with that but that monster was learning. He was adapting to his surroundings. What I discovered was that he wasn’t just making people into his Glandiators but he was also weaving himself into Aerosycia, blurring the barriers between him and us. I fear that if he had been able to full devour enough of Aerosycia, he might have caused our world to merge with his.” Eros clapped his hands together. “Perhaps the saving grace of having so many Invaders is that they are all struggling for dominion which is keeping us all from some sort of dimensional convergence.”

All of that went over Cody’s head and he dearly wished that Heathcliff or Mason were around to translate for him. Though he did understand that Eros was frustrated with himself for not being as efficient with his spell as he could have been. He wondered if constant defeat at his hands made the Evil Wizard feel like this every time they clashed.

“What I still don’t understand,” Eros began, frowning now, “is why he was obsessed with having sex with men.” The Wizard tilted frowned a little. “My goal had always been towards the fairer gender. Even when I scouted through the multiverse, I purposefully avoided any of my alternate selves that even had an inclination towards my own gender.” He tapped his chin with a finger. “Where that inclination came from is a mystery to me. Did I miss something…?”

Cody coughed softly, fighting the heat rising in his cheeks. Thankfully, Eros did not notice as the Wizard was lost in thought.

“Since you sent him back to his world, do you think he’ll corrupt it like he did ours?”

The Wizard shook his head, a dark grin on his face. “Unlikely. See, the reason I needed you to make him ejaculate is that, for some reason, orgasming releases the Crossex energy embedded in an individual. He was stubbornly holding onto much of his which is why we needed multiple orgasms but with enough of it, I was able to drain away the powers that he used to corrupt others.” He made a cutting motion with two fingers like he was wielding a pair of scissors. “He will have enough Crossex energy to maintain his current form and maybe some of his virility but his power to spread his corruption stays here in the Arena.” Eros lifted a hand. “And before you say anything, no. No one else can claim that power for themselves. Trust me, I tried.”

Cody narrowed his gaze at his ally and Eros rolled his eyes.

“Don’t give me that look. I thought since the Conqueror was technically another version of me, I would be the most compatible to claiming that power. Unfortunately, that is not the case. The Crossex energy left behind is just so foreign that no one else except him could reclaim it. But, much like the Mooltivers Spell itself, without both components of this arcane machine, both will cease to function and fade in time. We should make the best of them while we still have them.”

Eros waved a hand limply through the air. “On the off chance that he did come back somehow, he would have to make his way to the arcane seal I planted on the Arena’s grounds and know the exact ritual to enact to reclaim that power.” He grinned maliciously before tapping the side of his head. “And that ritual remains firmly locked in here.”

Sighing softly, Cody leaned against the fence again. “No arguments here. Though I shudder at the thought of how many men will be trained in the art of ‘Fuck Fighting’ by the time we are done.”

Eros visibly cringed at the name. “Are we seriously going with that as the name of this fighting style?”

A bright, mirthful voice sprang up from behind them. “I was honestly partial ta ‘Cum Fu’ but I was outvoted,” Knox said, bouncing between the two and leaping forward to sit on the fence. For the first time since he had seen the red-haired man, Knox was without his lute. “What are ya gents harpin’ ‘bout?”

Cody straightened, crossing his arms behind his head. “Just how we’re going to be stuck here for about a month and what we can do to make use of the Arena while we have it.”

“Agreed,” Eros grunted. “Though we won against the Conqueror, it was very close call.”

“Oh, I dunno,” Knox teased. “I think I still had a couple o’ hits in me.” He rolled his shoulders mirthfully but Cody noticed the bandages still wrapped around the musician’s hands. The Hero of the Hub exchanged glances with the former Evil Wizard.

Knox cut them off before they could say anything.

“But yer right,” said the bard. “We coulda won that fight a smidge easier.” The bard twisted his fingers through the air. “Ah, ol’ Master Lemon - may he rest in peace - woulda had my hide knowin’ my fingers got so soft that they began ta bleed after one intense song.”

That felt like a good segue into Knox’s past but Cody decided that was a conversation for later. “We all could use a little more practice. Me with my transformations…” He caught Eros’ look on him. “Yes, I can still transform into a Glandiator despite you banishing the Conqueror back to his world. I’ve practiced.”

The sad thing is, it’s getting easier and easier to change.

I’m genuinely starting to feel like I’m making the Glandiator fighting style my style instead of depending on Gladiator-Cody’s guidance.

“And I suppose I could work on my endurance a little more,” Knox admitted, swinging his legs absently. “Maybe brush up on summa those ancient techniques that can hit targets from a far. Or make more than one guy cum.” With broad grin, he leaned towards Eros. “What about you, O’ Mighty Evil Wizard. Think ya can learn sumthin’ from the Arena an’ the Conqueror?”

Eros huffed. “Yes.” He folded his arms defiantly. “I think Theodore needs more variety in his ammunition than just the few that he has. He ran out of ammunition in that fight and if he were to create specialized ammunition for each kind of Invader or Intruder that we have out there, he will only ever have a single shot for each one! I also think that Marcelos needs to practice with his Glandiator. They moved like ballerinas out there. There is no time for flourishes and glamorous maneuvers when we’re on the cusp of being fucked!”

Cody and Knox gave him pointed stares.

The Wizard rolled his eyes and flexed his fingers, rattling the chains around his wrists. “And I suppose I can learn to make do with what magic I do have access to. I can get fairly creative if I want to be. I also sincerely doubt all of our enemies will be as susceptible to anal penetration or bondage as the Glandiators were.”

Knox laughed brightly and slapped the Wizard’s back. “That’s th’ spirit! We can all develop ‘Cock Combat’ together!”

Eros groaned audibly. “We are not calling it that.”

“No? How ‘bout ‘Dicking Style’?” The bard’s grin grew broader with each ridiculous suggestion. “‘Mixed Martial Masturbation’? ‘Offensive Orgasming’? ‘Close-Quarters-Cocking’.” He slapped his knees. “I got it! Jizz-Jitsu!”

This time, Cody joined Eros in declining the suggestion.

“No!”

Forsaken Battleground

Ruins of the Greatest Arena Ever

World of Coliseums

Unknown Time Frame

The Conqueror of the Arena stood at the center of his once, mighty arena. The sky was clear. Not a cloud in sight. A blazing, oppressive sun hung high above. Contrary to the heat, a cool breeze wafted through the empty arena, drifting through the empty hallways and bringing out a haunting howl; echoes of the audience that had once stood and cheered for the gladiatorial matches that had been hosted on the sands. High above the rest of the seats, jutting out from the stands, was the podium where the Conqueror - as a mere man - had once announced events and basked in the adoration of the crowds. Ironic that now, in this enormous body that would put any gladiator to shame, he would not be able to fit in that stone box.

As the sands were disturbed by the winds, the Conqueror bent down and placed one of his massive hands against the warm, golden granules. Memories came flooding back. Glimmering starlight that broke through the heady haze of lust and carnal desire that had clouded his judgment and dominated his thoughts for so long.

Memories like when he had the old, common sand that had been retrieved from the beaches replaced with this golden variety that was specially refined to not be as abrasive to anyone’s skin because those on the front row complained. When he had set the first brick in his arena and the architect had complained that the design would offer not room for expansion. The Conquer rebuffed the man by boasting that the arena he was building would need no further development once opened. When the arena was packed for the first time after he had worked hard to advertise the fight between an emperor of a distant land and an estranged son vying for power.

Those memories seemed so distant now. Hollow. Given the power of foresight, that wizard had been right.

“What use was all this when I could not enjoy it?” he growled to himself, his hand forming into a fist and scraping up some of the sand. Rising, he watched the granules slide between his fingers and fall at his feet. A fitting metaphor for the time that had slipped past his grasp.

“Was that really all you got from that experience?”

The Conqueror went rigid. That voice was like an icy cold dagger straight into his back, piercing his spine and somehow sending a freezing chill right into his heart. Before every bone in his body froze, he whirled around at the owner.

The black-clad gladiator approached. Same as always. Perfectly tanned skin. Rippling musculature. Black, feathered cape rolling over his shoulders. Dark helmet that hid his features save for his bright, green eyes. That lone spear and round shield. Though he was much bigger and towered over the Champion of Conquest, he was unarmed and without the mystical goblet that had been the source of his power.

“What are you doing here?” spat the Conqueror.

Cody Wilder the Champion of Conquest bent down several yards away. The gladiator plucked something from the sands, raising it up for the Conqueror to see. It was a single, green, leaf. Likely from a laurel. “You were not the only one dragged into that foreign land, you know. I cannot tell when it was that you were sucked into the Crossex exactly. Time seems to work differently between our worlds. However, I was drawn here. There was a wound of arcane energies not too far from where you were standing.”

The Conqueror scoffed, folding his mighty arms. “And you decided to jump in after me? Was it not enough that you defeated me in this world? You had to defeat me in that one too?” His eyes narrowed, no longer glowing with the unearthly red light. “Don’t think I didn’t sense you in that boy that challenged me. He bore your image.” The owner of the arena glanced away briefly. “Albeit in a little more… sexual.”

“I don’t know why that is,” admitted Wilder. “I suspect it has something to do with Eros Virgo’s twisted desires corrupting the Crossex.” He shook his head. “Regardless, that chapter of our lives is over now.”

“And now onto the next.” The Conqueror’s eyes narrowed. “Will you finish me now, Champion of Conquest? Drive your spear through my heart before I can use what I learned from that world to conquer this one?” A dark smirk crossed his features. “You know, now that I know there are other worlds out there, I hunger to bring them under my domain.”

Wilder was unimpressed. “Stop with the false bravado. You and I both know that was never your ambition. It isn’t now either.”

“What do you know of my ambitions?” spat the Conqueror angrily. “You don’t know me. You don’t know what I had to endure!” He flung a meaty arm over his shoulder. “I would have been trapped in an endless void of rage, jealousy and torment if that ‘hero’ hadn’t disrupted the wizard’s plans!”

“And I would have been trapped in the void as well were the other versions of me not likewise imprisoned and we channeled our strength through the Cody Wilder of that world.” The gladiator let the olive leaf slip from his fingers. It drifted through the air, caught by the wind and danced towards the Conqueror. The silver-haired titan ignored it as it flitted past him. Wilder then did something strange…

… he reached up and removed his helmet.

For the first time, the Conqueror saw the face of his enemy. Even though he had already seen that face in that other world, when Cody Wilder had distracted him by throwing his helmet at him, the Conqueror was still given a moment’s pause upon seeing the face of his nemesis.

“There is a much bigger world out there than what scripture, lessons or even oral history would have us believe,” Wilder began. “This experience has opened my eyes. Not only to the truths of the universe but also to your truth.”

The Conqueror let out a bitter laugh. “My truth.” He rolled his eyes. “All ‘my truth’ has led me to is defeat and ruin. Whatever I build is crushed by fate, destiny or some particularly vindictive god that seems to enjoy tormenting me.” Fury burned through his veins and he held up the handful of sand he had been clutching, tightening his grip on it, blood vessels pulsing against his skin. “No matter what I do, even if I change my values and goals, I am handed defeat after defeat!” Then his fingers loosened and the last granules of sand slipped from his hands onto the sand.

“What use is there in trying when I am doomed never to achieve my goals?”

Wilder was silent for a long moment, just staring at him. “What do you think my goal is?” he asked a length.

The Conqueror let out a dry laugh. “To be the thorn in my side for all eternity? To chase me until the end of time and ensure I will never taste the sweet nectar of satisfaction or achievement?”

The gladiator chuckled. “I can see why you would believe that. Sadly, that is not my role. In fact, I honestly believed that was the role of that Cody Wilder for the longest time.” A curious look crossed the Conqueror’s features. “Something I and the other versions of me noted about that Cody Wilder. How old do you think he is?”

The Conqueror shrugged at the meaningless question. “More than twenty summers, surely. Less than thirty. Why does it matter?”

A small smile touched the gladiator’s lips. “Because he has been thwarting the plans of the Evil Wizard for over two hundred years.”

That gave the Conqueror pause. “How is that even possible? Do people in that world age slower?”

Wilder shrugged. “I do not know. They have magic so it is possible. But at the same time, I have this sneaking suspicion that it is how they were designed. It is the framework of their story.” He pointed his spear up to the heavens. “Perhaps it is a cruel joke on the part of the gods but whilst I and the other versions of me poked and prodded at one another and Cody Wilder’s existence, we had to ask… ‘Why did the Crossex appear in their world?’ Why not ours? If everything in their world is reflected in ours, why had no one else heard of even found the Crossex?”

That was a question the Conqueror had pondered between moments of euphoria. The sexual haze prevented him from thinking too deeply or philosophizing. Not that he ever had any desire to do so even before his transformation. Thinking back, it became clear that the constant cycle of action and reward with sexual release was more of a shackle than an expression of freedom.

“Their world does have magic…” he mumbled.

“So does some of the other worlds the other Cody Wilders came from,” answered Wilder. “And yet only his had the Crossex.” The gladiator shrugged. “We cannot tell why. We can only theorize. But we believe it is because their world acts as a sort of… center for the rest of ours. A foundation. The baseline. Cody Wilder constantly rises to fight off the Evil Wizard, Eros Virgo, in some grand campaign that can take years and triumphs. Eros Virgo will always escape and return but in the grand scheme of things, nothing changes. It is like their whole world just… resets or everyone simply accepts this cycle as truth. They do not forget the events happen but they just ignore the fact that they have been fighting one another for centuries with no end solution in sight or impact to their aging. Cody Wilder will always be fighting Eros Virgo…”

Then a small smile touched the gladiator’s lips.

“… until recently when they both had to work together to beat you.”

The Conqueror folded his arms again. “How comforting. I am the catalyst for their reconciliation while I languish here in defeat.”

“Don’t you see?” Wilder said a little more insistently. “They are the foundation for the other worlds! For the other versions of them! For us!”

“So you’ve said.”

“And they have shown us how to break free of the cycle!” He then held out his hand towards the Conqueror. “We were in our own cycle. You would raise a challenge. I would come and defeat it. Always. For eternity. I have no doubt that even after your arena fell into disrepair, you would have found some way to claw your way back and again bring more challenges to me. We would have been just like them.”

As much as the prospect of eternal life appealed to the Conqueror, he had lived through enough perceived eternities to know that unlimited time spent doing one thing would get boring.

And he hated being bored.

“So what do you suggest then, Wilder?” grunted the Conqueror. “What grand scheme do you have that will satisfy both our desires?” He then tilted his head. “In fact, what is it that you want?”

There, Wilder laughed. “That is the hilarious part. It was not until I ventured into the void after you and experienced that other world that I realized that I had no goal.” Wilder uttered those words like it would have earth-shattering repercussions but they ran hollow to the Conqueror. “Don’t you see? It is that cycle again! I had no purpose in life but to rise up to challenge you! I was just traveling from arena to arena, fighting battles constantly. Yes I grew in experience, yes I became stronger as a result, wiser even. However, I just fought. Never questioned it. It was just what I did.”

“Comforting to know that your existence was just as meaningless as mine,” the Conqueror grumbled bitterly.

Wilder’s smile grew broader. “And therein lies the key to our salvation. We recognize that it is meaningless.”

That time, those words did hold some earth-shattering repercussions. The Conqueror’s eyebrows slowly rose and he slowly began to unfold his arms.

“Curious,” mumbled the owner of this once-great-arena. “I had never questioned why I wanted to make the greatest arena in the world… until now.”

“Exactly,” Wilder replied, thrusting his hand towards the Conqueror again. “You have… ‘awakened’, I guess you could say. But unlike when you were isolated in the Crossex, you have me. We are both in the same situation. No one else can understand what you do. No one else in this world of ours experienced what we have.”

The Conqueror’s hand moved slightly towards Wilder’s but he paused. “I see. But back to my original question. What do you propose?”

“I honestly do not know,” said the gladiator with a shrug. “But if Cody Wilder and Eros Virgo have taught me anything, it is that even the most hated of enemies can ally together to face the greatest of adversities. What greater adversity is there than the unknown?”

Something ignited in the Conqueror. A little spark. A ray of sunshine through a gloomy day. The first beam of hope in a raging storm.

It was a new beginning. That message resonated with him. He had touted that his Arena in that other world of Aerosycia was a place of rebirth. Where, even if one was defeated, you could be transformed into something better. Wilder was offering him the same here.

From the ashes of defeat, he would rise again.

But this time, he would not be alone.

He took Wilder’s hand and shook it.

“Very well,” he boomed, offering the first genuine smile he had worn for the longest time. “So where to, champion?”

Wilder returned the smile, released his hand and then placed his helmet back on his head. Then he gestured at the exit to the arena. “Who knows? There is a world outside these coliseums and gladiatorial matches to explore. But first…” He gestured at the Conqueror’s crotch. “Why don’t we find you something to wear?”

The Conqueror let out a laugh and agreed. Together, the strode out of the arena that had once simultaneously been his crowning achievement and prison. Freedom, true freedom, never felt sweeter.

“I’m curious, Wilder,” he began. “Why did you keep coming back to take up my challenges? Barring the existentialist implications, why?”

Cody Wilder the Champion of Conquest shrugged. “I’ve said before, I don’t know. But if I were to put it into words…” He frowned a little then offered another shrug. “… because you called.”

The Conqueror of the Arena processed those words for a moment, a light blush touching his cheeks.

Then he just smiled and strode out into his new life.