Eva's Plea (3)
After the sex was over, Eva surveyed her situation through the lingering haze of pleasure, her mind still foggy and half-melted.
I'm so full.
When she lightly ran a hand over her lower abdomen, a sloshing sound like a bucket filled to the brim with water echoed in her ears. Her stomach felt heavy and full, as though she'd just eaten a big meal—though she hadn't touched a bite.
Then a worried thought flickered through her mind.
W-wait, don't tell me I could actually get pregnant from this?
As her head cooled, Eva mobilized every last brain cell she had—some of which she didn't even know she owned—and started crunching the numbers.
First question: could she hide this?
She was dating Chloe. Sleeping with someone else was an unforgivable betrayal—straight-up adultery. Even if it had been forced on her, she had no intention of ever letting it come to light. If she did, the photos saved on Solis's phone would go public too.
Her body stamped with the Mark of the Sun, streaked with semen, face twisted in shameless ecstasy, flashing a double peace sign for the camera. Honestly, biting off her own tongue would have been better for her mental health.
I'm sorry, Chloe.
Guilt gnawed at Eva. It wasn't her fault, technically, but this tainted body and heart of hers would never find their way back to being clean.
"Eva, you okay? Nothing wrong with your body?"
"Nyehehe…"
Strangest of all, despite everything that had been done to her, Eva felt not a single shred of resentment toward Solis. When his gentle hand caressed her cheek, heat bloomed across her face like molten metal freshly poured from a crucible.
"Heheh… th-thank you for, for having your way with me. Did you… enjoy yourself?"
"You were more adorable than I can say."
Mwah.
Solis pressed a tender kiss to her forehead.
"Aah, I—I'm happy too…. I love you, Mister."
"Same here."
Until just moments ago he'd handled her like an object, rough and merciless—and the instant it was over, he fussed over her like a doting lover.
"Hehe."
Eva felt a smile spread across her lips. It was practically a conditioned reflex—as if, in that moment, she were the happiest person alive.
"So, what now? Want me to buy you a morning-after pill?"
Solis asked, rubbing her lower belly. The soft friction of skin on skin made the area below her navel twitch and flutter treacherously. If she left things as they were, he was right—implantation would be a foregone conclusion.
She was a legal adult with more than enough means to raise a child. Her mother, Petra Amethyst, would probably welcome the news with both hands raised in delight. And the fact that the father was a mana-wielding man would only sweeten the deal for her.
Take, for example, the near-mutant yet biologically flawless specimens—the Grand Sorcerers, the Sword Saints, celebrities whose names alone carried weight. That alone gave you a sense of the caliber involved.
The terrorists who had attacked the Max Republic hadn't been quite on their level, but they still ranked among the considerably strong. Eva had only won that duel because she'd managed to wield two Divine Artifacts by sheer force of will at the moment of crisis—and if she hadn't, the one lying defeated would have been her.
Which meant a single family now possessed enough coercive power to stand against a nation. His child would also unconditionally inherit the father's innate talent, so the succession problem would solve itself. Eva had inherited her father's magical aptitude, her younger sister had gotten his mana sensitivity, and Chloe could wield the Sword Saint's arts.
Run the cost-benefit analysis however you liked, and nothing but profit came out on the ledger.
Haha, but I don't want to give birth!
She was a woman in her early twenties who had only just settled into society. Between school and everything she had to learn, she was already stretched to her limit. Yes, the responsibility would land on her shoulders someday—but not right now. She wasn't mentally prepared, and she wanted to savor her freedom a while longer. She had no confidence she could carry and raise a child. Above all, she had no confidence she could give love the way her father and mother had.
And so, Eva made her decision.
"I-it's fine. I'll just have the baby."
W-wait, I am NOT getting pregnant!
She would go straight to the pharmacy, her body moving against her will or not. Absolutely, absolutely, she vowed silently—she would not carry a child.
Zzzzt!
Huh?
Her vision blurred, static crackling across the screen like a television hunting for a signal that wasn't there. The picture snapped back to normal in an instant, but Eva couldn't hide her confusion.
"La-la-la~."
The environment had changed. The gloomy den she called home—the living room so desolate she'd hung blackout curtains like a child of darkness and refused to bring in so much as a stick of furniture beyond her computer and bed—was gone. In its place, warm sunlight spilled down through the gaps in a window, washing over pale-oak woodwork and filling the house with a fresh, gentle air.
Where am I?
A place she'd never been before. When she came to her senses, she was standing in a stranger's house. And the strangeness didn't end there.
"Hm-hm-hmm~."
Why am I cooking?
Humming a tune, she was diligently stirring the contents of a pot with a ladle, working hard to keep the food from clumping. She was remarkably good at it. This wasn't the work of a rank beginner—she was measuring out the salt, pepper, and seasonings by feel, seasoning by instinct alone.
Eva had spent her whole life eating food that servants prepared for her. Ever since entering the Academy, she'd survived on delivery and convenience-store meals. She had never once touched a drop of dishwater. And now, this was her, cooking?
The soup bubbling away in the pot, the rich, nutty aroma filling the air—Eva suffered a full-blown case of cognitive dissonance.
My body… still won't move the way I want it to.
Control of her body still hadn't been returned to her. How much time had passed? She prayed desperately that not too many years had slipped by before she'd arrived at this place.
"Heheh, I wonder if our little one will like it?"
A sweet voice flowed from her lips along with the humming.
Wha—?
Her cooking hand had somehow wandered down to caress her own belly. It wasn't a movement she'd intended, but the vivid sensation blooming under her palm was impossible to ignore. The sight hanging at the edge of her vision—a belly swollen round as a full moon, and I can sum up the situation in one word.
It was what you would call full term.
Tap.
"Oh, look at that. Kicking Mommy's belly again. What a lively little thing."
It was like a well-mannered child politely knocking at a door—and the feeling that spread through her entire body at that moment… could only be described as an emotion beyond words.
If only it weren't a pregnancy she'd never asked for.
Tap-tap.
"Hehe, I think our little darling caught the smell of dinner."
N-no! No, no, no!
"No need to fuss, sweetie. I'll feed you soon, so just be patient a little longer, okay?"
Aaaaagh!
"Oh, that's right—I almost forgot to text Mister. I promised I'd send him a message as soon as the food was ready. Honestly, I'm so scatterbrained."
THIS IS SO WRONG, AAAAAAAH!!!
The tender whispers slipping from her mouth and the desperate screams welling up from within her crossed paths. With every fiber of her being, Eva rejected reality. She hated this forced, fabricated ending—an ending with no logic, no buildup, no justification whatsoever, AAAAAAH!
Eva despaired.
She wailed at her own plight, screaming until her voice threatened to abandon her throat entirely.
"HAAAAH!"
She bolted upright in bed.
"Wh-wh-wh-where… where am I?!"
She frantically looked around. It was the home she knew so well—the mansion the Academy had granted her.
That was… a dream, right?
It had felt vivid enough to pass for reality. But really?
Then my stomach…?
Eva hastily dropped her gaze downward.
A mortifying scene spread out below her.
"HUAAAAH!"
Her lower half was thoroughly, unmistakably soaked. Juices flowing from her cleft like an open faucet, trickling down and drenching the bedsheets. A hideous, ruinous state—she could have sworn she'd wet herself. In truth, it was the product of sweat mixed with her own arousal.
"Huaaaaaah!"
She heaved a long, deep sigh of anxiety and worry, as though none of the rest of it mattered at all.
Squelch!
"I-I'm safe!"
Her belly—soft with flab, built up not by exercise but by years of being a shut-in gamer, a sagging mass of flesh that stretched and jiggled however it pleased. Under any normal circumstance she would have despised it with every inch of her being.
Th-thank god I'm not pregnant.
To Eva right now, nothing in the world could have been more lovable.
So what on earth was that?
Only now able to judge the situation with a cool head, Eva carefully retraced the experience. It hadn't matched anything she knew. The disconnect was so vast she honestly wondered if it had even been a dream at all.
It must have been a dream. Definitely. But…
She'd never once in her life heard of or experienced anything this lifelike. Having never known its like, Eva struggled desperately to find the cause.
Ah, d-don't tell me—!
She realized there was one suspicious thread.
The Divine Artifacts… could it be because of them?
The mysterious power that had recently awakened within her. Ever since her duel with the terrorist, she'd had similar dreams several times. Back then, they'd been horrifying visions of killing her father with her own hands. Vivid enough to leave trauma behind, and the feeling had been eerily similar—though she couldn't find the slightest thematic connection between the two.
I should talk to someone about this.
Someone came to mind immediately. A fellow Divine Artifact wielder. The man who'd appeared in her dream and violated her.
Solis.
She decided she would seek him out later and ask for advice.
"…First things first, let's deal with this."
Though before that, perhaps her first priority really ought to be dealing with the bed she'd soaked with her own fluids.
