[Null POV] Year 5, Day 203 (Night)

  They exited the club. Cool night air. City sounds present but distant. Central never sleeping. Just: continuing. Endless. Perpetual.

  X stopped. Turned to group. Casual question. Not really waiting for answer.

  "Anything you're interested in? Particular entertainment? Specific venues?"

  Didn't pause. Didn't let them respond. Just: continued. Already decided.

  "Maybe something elvish? Master Void is elf after all. There's place in Central that serves real elven blood wine. Proper preparation. Traditional methods. They have actual shaman cooking it right there under your eyes. Full ceremony. Complete experience."

  Brief pause. Something shifting in his tone. Almost serious. Almost genuine.

  "After the Blood Guild incident few years back, elvish culture in Republic took heavy hit. Near half the elven population fled, went into hiding, or isolated themselves."

  Pause. Weight settling.

  "Blood Guild had been spying on everyone. Lots of secrets came out. Now there's mistrust—many think we're all traitors, all hiding something."

  "Lots of establishments closed. Lots of traditions abandoned. Bad times for elves here."

  "But this place? Still runs strong. Still maintains standards. Still serves properly. One of the few left."

  Null felt it immediately. Through the bond. Through her connection to Void.

  Emotion. Strong emotion. Happiness. Longing. WANTING.

  Void desperately wanted this. Desperately. The blood wine. The elvish tradition. The connection to culture he'd been severed from for two centuries.

  22's voice came through the network. Dry. Observant. Clinical.

  ?Still good at manipulation, I see.?

  X responded aloud. Reading the room. Reading body language. Understanding reactions perfectly. "What? Your master clearly wants it. And I remember YOU also liked it. Back in the old days. We drank together plenty."

  Pause. Grin showing. "Plus I wanted to go anyway. So everyone wins."

  It was clear. Completely clear. X wanted this destination. Had already decided. The question about interests was just: performance. Social nicety. Pretending to offer choice while already committed to path.

  He pulled magical device from storage. Similar to what the lizardman had used. Communication crystal. Standard design.

  Held it. Concentrated briefly. Magical taxi summoning. Same system Kira had used before.

  Within minute: platform descended. Large one. Space for everyone. Professional configuration.

  They boarded. X inserting coins casually. Touching crystal. Willing destination.

  The platform lifted. Smooth. Professional. Moving through Central's night sky.

  During flight—X tried positioning himself next to 22. Moving closer. Casual. Comfortable.

  22 immediately shifted. Putting someone between them. Kira. Creating buffer.

  X tried from other side. 22 moved again. Null between them now.

  Back and forth. Subtle. Neither acknowledging the dance. Just: happening. X trying to get close. 22 ensuring barriers.

  Eventually X gave up. Laughing quietly. "Male you? I wouldn't have even thought about this. That aura you had—'touch me and I end you'—it was terrifying. Fear of death kept those thoughts completely out of my head."

  Pause. Delighted. "But female you? Just dodging. Playing keep-away. No death threats. No murder vibes. You're actually being cute about it. That makes you fair game. Absolutely fair game."

  22 said nothing. Just continued avoiding. Professional. Absolute.

  X shrugged. Giving up the hunt for now. Turned his attention to Void instead. Fresh target. Different entertainment.

  "You're nice proof that slavery isn't the end," X said casually. Matter-of-fact. Like discussing weather. "For someone who carried the collar for centuries, you're doing quite well now. Building things. Leading operation. Functioning. That's impressive actually."

  Void tried to respond. Opening mouth. Starting to speak—

  X didn't let him. Just: continued. Never pausing. Never allowing interruption.

  "Ah, don't worry. Not many notice the signs. But slave collars leave quite ugly wounds that heal slowly. If ever. The magic scarring. The soul damage. The way your posture shifts when stressed—that's collar-trained behavior. Trained to minimize presence. Trained to disappear. Takes centuries to unlearn. If you ever do."

  His voice carried casual knowledge. Experience. Understanding. "You shouldn't be ashamed though. In Syndicate leadership there's quite many who carried collars in the past. Survived. Escaped. Rose to power. It's almost badge of honor at certain level."

  Pause. Something shifting in his tone. Almost pride. Almost respect. "My owner always likes to boast that his first innovation was method to remove collar from himself. Then the bastard made absolute FORTUNE selling improved collar designs to everyone else. Ironic really. Escaped slavery by improving slavery technology."

  Kira—trying to follow proper servant protocols, trying to understand social dynamics—got stuck on something. Confused. Uncertain.

  She asked. Tentative. Professional curiosity. "Is it... is it right to call someone who owns your contracts 'bastard'? Isn't that disrespectful?"

  X looked at her. Genuinely surprised by question. Like it had never occurred to him. "Eh? He needs something. I provide something. Been working for him centuries. Best boss ever actually. Very hands-off. Very reasonable."

  He considered. "Actually I'm quite sure I do MORE than he asks. Much more. Never got any complaints. Never heard him dissatisfied. Different from most workers around him. I'm useful. Consistently. That matters more than politeness."

  22's voice cut through. Sharp. Annoyed. Finally speaking aloud. "You're still as full of yourself as before."

  X grinned. Pleased she'd spoken. "Eh, I'm honest. More than I can say for most people." He looked around the platform. At the group. "Only this maiden in love here really serves the master without conditions."

  He pointed at Void. Then swept gesture toward Null. "Monster in human skin. Only one here who's genuinely loyal. Absolute devotion. No restrictions. No conditions. Just pure desire to serve."

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  Then pointing at 22 and Kira. "Rest of you? Traded something for power. Took monster's gifts. Bound yourselves. Serve because you must now. Not because you choose. Different motivation entirely."

  He looked satisfied. Confident. "Did I get something wrong?"

  The group went silent. Stunned. Seen through completely. Understood fully. Analyzed and categorized in seconds.

  Kira found words first. "How? How did you..."

  She wasn't alone. Through the network:

  ?Void: He knows. He KNOWS. How does he know??

  ?Spy: He read us. Completely. In minutes.?

  ?22: Told you. His skills are real.?

  ?Null: Impressive. Disturbing.?

  X started answering. Casual pride. "Well, it's easy for me. I'm the greatest—"

  22 interrupted. Firm. Cutting him off mid-sentence. "This guy has ego the size of mountain. But his skills are real."

  She focused. Finding words. Explaining despite discomfort. "He focused all his efforts into single field. Studying life. Learning secrets of living things." Pause. Thinking how to explain. "He's basically expert on everything alive. Humans. Monsters. Dragons. Elves. Everything. Probably saw all our enhancements, all our connections, all our bindings the moment we met him."

  Another pause. Admission. "He's also very good healer. Best I've encountered actually."

  X took over immediately. Shameless. Proud. "BEST healer you'll ever meet. Period. No competition. Nobody close."

  22's voice flat. Dry. "You still do those perverted things?"

  "Always."

  Kira: "What things?"

  X talked proudly. Genuinely proud. No shame whatsoever. "I have a policy. Everyone who wants my help—checkup, healing, diagnosis, whatever—has to come in front of me naked. Like the day they were born. Completely bare. No exceptions."

  Confused silence.

  X continued. Explaining. Justifying. Still completely shameless. "It's actually really useful policy. Gets rid of time-wasters immediately—takes commitment before you do it. Plus lowers everyone few levels socially. Powerful people standing naked in front of me? Much easier to work with. Much less pretense. Much more honest."

  "And if you follow same policy for nearly a millennium? Everyone just accepts it as normal. As my thing. Nobody complains. Nobody refuses. Just: understood. Expected. Standard."

  Pause. Grin widening. "Plus there's bonus: naked ladies! Win-win situation really."

  He looked at the group. Bright. Enthusiastic. "You should all come for checkups! I'd love to examine you properly. See what you're working with. What modifications you have. What your bodies actually are underneath the magic and enhancements."

  Null felt the reactions. Kira went rigid. Void shifted uncomfortably. The Twins maintained polite stillness despite obvious confusion.

  Null herself found it interesting. Would be educational actually. Learning about her own body. Understanding the modifications. Practical.

  22's voice was flat. Final. "I said: pervert."

  X laughed. Completely unbothered. "And you've been saying that for centuries. Never gets old."

  The platform descended, landing smoothly outside the establishment.

  Shady looking. Not fancy like the club. Just functional, old, traditional. Authentic rather than impressive.

  They disembarked.

  The entrance opened into a large room with minimal decoration. Functional space designed for purpose, not beauty.

  At the center sat a massive copper pot—ancient, ornate—over magical fire. Deep red liquid bubbled inside. Blood being prepared traditionally.

  An elf shaman tended the pot. Old, wearing traditional robes covered in symbols. She stirred carefully, adding ingredients with practiced precision. Ancient methods preserved through generations.

  The smell hit immediately. Metallic, rich, strange. Nothing Null had encountered before.

  Servant noticed X immediately. Recognition clear. "Master X. Welcome back. Usual table?"

  "Yes. And guests tonight. Good table. Good service." X gestured at the group. "They're country bumpkins. First time here. Make it special."

  The servant bowed. Led them toward nicer section. Private corner. Good visibility of central pot. Perfect for watching preparation ceremony.

  They settled. Void, X, and 22 sitting centrally. Others flanking appropriately. Maids maintaining professional distance but present.

  X looked at Void. "You'll want the blood wine. Traditional preparation, real thing—not those modern shortcuts they use elsewhere."

  Glanced at 22. "You too. I remember you liked it."

  To Kira and Null: "You two won't appreciate it. It's an elvish thing, cultural taste. But try from your Master's cup if you're curious."

  Void nodded to them. "Taste mine if you want, but don't expect to like it. It's very specifically elvish."

  The servant took orders. Three blood wines, served directly from the pot. Traditional ceremony.

  Minutes passed as they watched the shaman work—the ritual movements, the careful preparation, ancient methods preserved through time.

  Then the cups arrived. Three of them, filled directly from the pot. Still warm, still fresh, presented with traditional reverence.

  Served to X, 22, and Void.

  Null watched Void take first sip. Careful. Tentative.

  His expression transformed—happiness flooding through. Pure joy, relief, connection to something lost and now recovered. Something precious beyond words.

  Through the bond, overwhelming emotion poured through. Gratitude, memories of home before slavery, culture and identity—everything compressed into a single taste.

  Kira tried hers. Small sip from Void's cup.

  Immediate reaction. "That's... that's horrible. How do you drink this?"

  She set the cup down quickly. Suppressing gag reflex. Professional composure barely maintained.

  Null tried next. Equally small sip.

  The taste hit. Blood—obviously blood. Prepared, enhanced, but still fundamentally blood.

  Horrible. Just as horrible as Kira had said. Worse maybe.

  But through the bond, through her connection to Void, she felt his happiness. His overwhelming joy pouring through their link.

  And the taste transformed. Not the flavor itself—that remained awful. But what it meant to Master. What it gave him. How it made him feel.

  That made it wonderful.

  Null liked it. Not the blood, not the taste. But the connection. The shared experience. Master's joy becoming hers through their bond.

  X and 22 drank comfortably, falling into old familiar patterns. Old habit resuming after centuries. Cultural connection shared between ancient elves.

  More cups were ordered, served, consumed.

  The alcohol hit fast—magically enhanced, making it more potent than normal wine. More immediate, more overwhelming.

  Void got drunk quickly. Thoroughly. Completely.

  Null had never seen Master drunk before. Never seen him lose composure like this.

  He started crying. Quiet tears. Overwhelmed emotion. Everything breaking through at once.

  Then: hugging Null. Tight. Desperate. Happy. "Thank you. Thank you for bringing me here. For saving me. For everything. Thank you."

  Null accepted the embrace. Uncertain. Unused to this. But: not unpleasant. Master was happy. Comfortable. That was good. That mattered.

  She kind of liked it actually. The physical affection. The genuine gratitude. The vulnerability.

  Just hoped he didn't get TOO comfortable. Didn't ask for something more. Something she wasn't sure about. Something that made her uncertain in ways she couldn't quite process.

  X and 22 continued drinking. More cups. More consumption. Getting equally drunk. Equally compromised.

  Then they started talking in a different language. Not common tongue, not anything Null recognized.

  Elvish—old elvish, ancient dialect. Musical and flowing, beautiful to hear even without understanding the words.

  Void joined occasionally, drunk but functional enough to add comments, laugh, participate in fragments.

  But too drunk, too compromised for clear mind reading. Null caught only fragments through the bond—emotions, scattered thoughts without coherence.

  Null, Kira, and the Twins ended up effectively guarding three drunk elves having an incomprehensible conversation in ancient language.

  The role reversal was complete. Servants protecting masters, sober ones managing drunk ones, capable ones ensuring safety for the compromised.

  Kira looked resigned. Professional. "This is our life now apparently. Babysitting drunk elves in shady establishments."

  The Twins maintained perfect serious bearing. Still professional. Still focused. But watching curiously. Learning. Processing.

  Null just: observed. Monitored. Ensured nothing threatened Master. Ensured he stayed happy. Stayed safe. Stayed comfortable.

  The establishment itself was exclusively elvish. All elves—plus their servants, slaves, and occasional friends. Different races served, but elves dominated the space, preserved their culture here.

  The group fit surprisingly well. Wealthy elf master with professional servants—a standard arrangement. Nothing unusual, nothing suspicious.

  They blended in naturally. Belonged. Were accepted.

  Void attempted translation occasionally. Drunk but trying. Explaining fragments.

  "X and 22... same age approximately. Both ancient. Both powerful. Grew up together. Best friends before X left. About five hundred years ago. Traveling. Improving knowledge. Learning about life across continents."

  "22 stayed. Building tower. Building power. Building empire. They exchanged letters since then but never met. Never saw each other. Until tonight."

  Another sip. More drunk. "This blood wine... fixing old issues somehow. Old tensions. Old unresolved things. They're... they're working through it. Using language I barely remember. Ancient elvish. From before slavery. From home."

  His voice carried emotion. Gratitude. Connection. "Thank you, Mistress. For being here. For letting me have this."

  Null felt warmth. Satisfaction. Master was happy. That was worth everything. Worth the confusion. Worth the uncertainty. Worth the strange evening with unpredictable guide.

  The conversation continued. Hours passing. The establishment comfortable. Safe. Traditional.

  Three drunk elves talking ancient language. Three sober servants ensuring safety. The night stretching ahead.

  Eventually—much later—they'd leave. Return to guest house. Process everything that happened.

  But for now: just this. Just Master being happy. Just cultural connection restored. Just old friends reuniting over blood wine and ancient words.

  Simple. Right. Good.