Prologue: Betrayal at Dusk

Lilith, Queen of the Succubi, had awakened from her long slumber in the depths of antiquity. When her sinister demonic miasma began to blanket the world, the despair that gripped humanity was not confined to any mere physical threat.

Lilith's purpose reached far beyond conquest or destruction. It was to trample humanity's dignified free will underfoot and drag her creations down into slaves who craved nothing but sadistic pleasure and blind obedience. That, and that alone, was the paradise the Queen desired.

Upon that vast plain of despair, the single weapon of resistance humanity managed to clutch at was called the Anima. Each was the crystallization of a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠soul itself: the trajectory of a life, its deepest contemplations, innate talent, reckless ideals, and the potential slumbering in the soul's depths—all fused together into a radiant embodiment of the soul's essence. Using its wielder's soul as a medium, it resonated with the mana suspended in the atmosphere.

Those who awakened an Anima—man or woman alike—were reborn as Magical Girls draped in sacred light, becoming the bulwark of humanity itself.

Yet behind that brilliant light lurked a fate that, for male awakeners alone, waited like a cruel original sin.

Women, born with a gentle and profound Yin energy already harbored within their bodies, received and circulated the stimulating waves of Yin power that flooded through them upon transformation without the slightest difficulty. But the moment a man—who had lived his whole life carrying fierce, direct Yang energy—opened his Anima and exposed himself to the Magical Girl's Yin, a violent rejection erupted within his flesh. His Yang energy clashed, was utterly harmonized away, and confiscated by the Yin; and in the shock of that collision, his body was reconstructed into the complete, alluring form of a woman.

More despairing still was this: even once the transformation was dismissed, a body so reconstructed would never return to what it had been. A fate of living out every remaining day locked into a perfect woman's form. The male awakeners, their identities denied at the very root, suffered severe self-fragmentation each morning as they gazed upon their female bodies. The so-called menhera phenomenon—minds shattered, spiraling into strange obsessions and despair—was an inescapable nightmare for the former-male Magical Girls, a ghostly shadow that trailed them wherever they went.

Lee Jian, an ordinary male high schooler whose pink hair had once fluttered in the wind, was no more able to escape that harsh prank of the gods than anyone else.

On the day he awakened—squeezing his Anima out of sheer, burning conviction—Jian's body was remade amid the raging torrent of mana into the shape of a girl so beautiful it was almost cruel. When the battle ended, he made his way to a white hospital with white walls, and there, in a cold examination room, the doctor's verdict demolished Jian's life from the foundations up.

"I hardly know whether to congratulate you or console you... The Yang energy within your body, Jian, has been completely purified and fused with your Yin. From now on, you will live out the rest of your life in the body of a perfect woman."

As the cold diagnosis slip rustled at his fingertips, Jian's world cut to black. He could never again live as Lee Jian, the male high schooler; the life he had written for himself as a man had been slashed to ribbons by a single awakening. That despair wound around his throat like a noose. Night after night he panted ragged breaths, clawing at his own chest as if to tear it open, shattering mirrors and howling at them—those days simply went on.

But at the very bottom of that unrelenting hell of despair, there were hands that never let go of his.

His elder younger sister, Lee Jisu, her yellow bob swaying, who would always gather Jian's trembling shoulders into a tender embrace. His youngest sister, Lee Jieun, her yellow side ponytail swishing, who deliberately clowned around and played bright, only to slip away and hide somewhere she could listen to Jian crying and weep along with him. And Kim Minjeong, his navy-haired lover—who, despite having loved Jian as a man, held tight the hand of the woman he had become and swore in a whisper: "No matter what you look like, you're the only one I love, Jian."

Thanks to the warmth and tearful support those three gave him, Jian managed to stand again, piecing his shattered self back together like someone mending broken shards with tape. He had lost his identity as a man, yes—but he reassured himself that his resolve to protect the people he loved was no lie. And so two years slipped past, two years since Jian had accepted the fate of a Magical Girl in a woman's body and thrown himself into the blood-soaked battlefields where the monsters swarmed.

A bleak wind combed through the ruins of the city at dusk. It was a subjugation battlefield like any other.

"Hah... hah... Jieun, right side! Minjeong, seal off the bend at the rear!"

Jian's clear, commanding voice rang out across the shattered forest of buildings. Two years of weathering ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠everything the front lines could throw at them had made his squad unstoppable. Jisu, Jieun, and Minjeong moved in perfect concert with Jian's orders, like a single living organism; the grotesque Lower-tier Monsters were carved apart along the trails of holy mana and dissolved into black smoke. Always together, each gladly entrusting their life to the others—they were the sturdiest, most perfect team in the world.

'Thank goodness. Today's battle is over safe and sound, too. When we get home, I'll get to have the warm dinner Minjeong makes.'

Having severed the last monster's neck with his Anima, Jian steadied his breathing and wiped the sweat from his brow. The relief of returning to peaceful days with the people who had hauled him up out of hell two years ago filled his chest with warmth.

But that was the exact moment it happened.

The texture of the air began to warp, grotesquely. Even the physical temperature plunged by dozens of degrees as a blunt, bone-deep chill swept past.

"Huh...? Guys...?"

Jian's gaze turned slowly toward his comrades. From all three bodies, a foul aura was rising—something on a completely different wavelength from the mana that radiated holy light. It was an energy like a swamp in which violet and black churned together, darker even than ink that swallowed light.

Jisu, Jieun, and Minjeong began to shuffle in place with vacant eyes. Those pupils seemed sunk in deep water, utterly devoid of life—yet in their depths, nothing but a vile desire rippled. The three stepped past the corpses of the fallen Lower-tier Monsters, turned slowly, very slowly, and faced Jian head-on.

"Wh-what's wrong with you all...? Why are you...?"

Deep in Jian's chest, an inexplicable dread coiled like a snake. Goosebumps crawled up his spine. Something had gone completely, irretrievably wrong. And the instant Jian unconsciously tried to back away, all three pairs of lips parted at once.

"Transform."

It was a low whisper, damp and clammy as though soaked through, like the murmur of some eerie incantation.

Krrrrrumble—!

The moment the word left their mouths, a storm of black mana burst forth, pressing down with a sickening weight. Not a single particle of light could be found, search as one might. What wrapped itself around the three bodies was the crystallization of a lewd and cruel malice.

Their Magical Girl outfits, which had once gleamed in pure white and pastels, twisted in real time within the waves of magic into corrupted costumes of black leather and translucent fishnet, lewd lines of cleavage shamelessly bared. Those outfits, exposing the valley of the chest and the line of the hips without restraint, were nothing that belonged to a pure Magical Girl—they were the very erotic costumes the succubi of legend wore when luring in their prey.

"Hiik...?! Wh-what... what happened to you...?! Why do you look...?!"

Jian's eyes wavered. His vision bleached white. The comrades with whom he had shared two years of hardship and trust were transforming before his eyes into the very shape of 'evil.' Unable to contain the crushing wave of reality, the hand gripping his Anima shook uncontrollably.

Watching his horror, the three curled the corners of their mouths into wicked smiles as if on cue. The slow, slick drag of their tongues across red lips was beyond alluring—it was chilling.

"Ufufu... Lady Lilith has taken us in as her servants♥"

That single sentence, spilling from Minjeong's mouth, struck Jian's brain like a hammer blow.

Lady Lilith? The Queen of the Succubi? The enemy of humanity?

"Servants...? You're... servants of Lilith...?"

Jian's head drooped heavily. His thoughts ground to a halt, as if his mind itself had seized. It made no sense at ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠all—that his lover and his sisters, who had been cutting down Lower-tier Monsters mere moments ago, had become minions of the demon that meant to slaughter humanity. And as Jian stared at the three with dimming, hollow eyes, he soon grasped the cruel truth those words carried.

Betrayal. The perfect fall of everyone he had trusted.

"You... you betrayed me...?"

Jian's voice came out cracked and wretched. A tremor as though he were coughing up blood split the silence of the ruins.

"Leaving me... leaving me like this... how can you take Lilith's side?! Why... why would you do this?! I only survived because of you! Snap ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠out of it, all of you! Please!"

The tears he had been holding back spilled from the corners of Jian's eyes and streamed down his cheeks. It was a cry bordering on a scream. Yet not a single millimeter of guilt or conflict showed on the three faces. If anything, they savored his despairing expression, tongues sliding out to lick their lips as they offered up ever more lewd, uncanny smiles.

"Betrayal? Oh, Oppa, you really don't know anything at all..."

His elder younger sister Jisu drifted closer, whispering low.

Her eyes boiled with nothing but a boundless possessiveness and lust, all of it aimed at Jian.

"It's all... because we love you so, so much, Oppa♥"

The youngest, Jieun, took up the thread with a giggle.

"That's right, Jian. Lady Lilith has granted us a great power. So we're going to let you throw away that sham Magical Girl duty that's been tormenting you. From now on, you'll be made into our Seedbed... one that exists only for us, made to receive our love."

Minjeong, his lover, pointed a finger at the tip of Jian's chin and smirked a wicked, oily smirk.

There wasn't even a pretense of explanation. The three had already had their souls stained through by brainwashing and the sorcery of pleasure; they no longer saw Jian as an equal human being at all—only as a wholly owned creature, kept and raised to satisfy their desires.

'No... I can't let it end like this. That isn't the Jisu I know. It isn't Jieun, and it isn't Minjeong either...!'

Through the despair, a fierce defiance surged up from the depths of Jian's chest. He could not be dragged away into their hands like this. To bring the three of them back to their senses, he had to tear that aberrant transformation apart, even by brute force. Just as he had accepted life as a woman on the day he lost his manhood, this time it was Jian who had to save them.

"I swear... I'll bring you back to your senses!"

Jian gritted his teeth and wiped away his tears. The Anima—his very soul—gripped in his right hand began to breathe out a calm green light, as if in answer. Drawing a deep, trembling breath, Jian poured his entire soul into a resolute shout.

"Transform—!"

A pillar of brilliant light enveloped his body. Sacred mana coursed through him from head to toe and began reconstructing his form into that of a Magical Girl. Yes—this was the transformation he had always performed. The familiar sensation of the lightweight armor and the smooth, flowing dress that had always protected him settling into place...

THOOM—!!

But midway through the transformation, Jian's instincts screamed that something had gone fatally wrong.

"Ugh...?! Ah, haaugh...?! What...?!"

The balance of mana that should have been circulating through his body was collapsing into grotesque disorder. The monster mana spread by the three corrupted women had penetrated deep into the holy mana field of Jian's mid-transformation body, forcibly wrenching its equilibrium askew.

The change erupted, concentrated in Jian's chest.

Thump—! Thump—!

"Hngh! Haaang! My—my chest...?! What's happening to me...?!"

Jian shrieked a tearing scream. The skin of his chest had begun to swell with mad speed. He had already possessed a proper woman's breasts when he transformed into a Magical Girl—but the change seizing him now soared far beyond anything physical sense could explain.

A chest that had always been full and ample now inflated at an abnormal pace, as if someone were pumping air into a balloon. J-cup, K-cup, L-cup... a violent hyper-inflation of flesh hurtling far beyond the limits of the human body. The fabric screamed as it stretched toward ripping, and the sheer weight of his breasts alone made Jian's spine cry out in agony.

"Th-that's impossible... why... why is this... ugh?!"

His center of gravity lurched forward in an instant. Jian's slender legs and waist could not bear the unimaginable weight of his chest. Spilling a strangled moan, he lost his balance and crumpled straight down to the ground.

CRASH—!

"Haah... ugh...!"

Jian realized what he had become: sprawled face-down, his two abnormally swollen breasts spread out beneath him against the floor like cushions. Squashed soft and heavy against the cold ground, they made it impossible to raise his upper body even an inch. A maddening weight of gravity pinned him down.

He tried somehow to push himself up on his arms—and a greater tragedy found him. Not even the tip of a single finger would move at Jian's command.

"My—my body... won't move...?! Am I paralyzed...?! Why... why is this...!"

Terror stained Jian's eyes. Even granting that the abnormal swelling of his chest was an anomaly born of a corrupted transformation circuit, this state—every muscle and mana nerve in his body frozen solid, unable to so much as flick a finger—was unmistakably the interference of 'someone else's magic.'

When Jian, drowning in despair, managed to wrench his head to one side, what slid into the edge of his vision was the black shoe of his youngest sister, Jieun.

"Fufu... those giant breasts suit you so well, Jian Unnie."

Jieun snapped the fingers of her black-leather glove with a crisp click. Sinister violet mana came spilling out between the strands of her side ponytail. The true nature of the sinister aura that had wrapped itself around Jian's entire body—the chains of binding sorcery that Jieun had secretly woven into the mechanism of his transformation.

"Sorry, Oppa♥ But it would hurt if you transformed and tried to resist, you know? So I prepared something special, just for you... a barrier magic that seals your mana directly."

Wearing a smile both lewd and ice-cold, Jieun brought her lips to the shell of Jian's ear.

"Bind."

Krrzzzt—!

The instant Jieun's incantation fell, chains of red and black mana coiled around Jian's prone body in dozens upon dozens of overlapping layers. A body already pinned motionless beneath the surreal weight of his chest was bound by that flawless barrier magic so completely that he could not have stirred so much as one finger.

"Nn, hah... ah, aahng... J-Jieun... Minjeong... Jisu..."

Every time his abnormally swollen chest was crushed cold against the floor, jolts of stimulation came flooding in from his pinched nipples and the valley of his cleavage, wrenching Jian's delicate jaw helplessly upward. He clenched his teeth and tried to endure—but as Jieun's dark-red Bind chains tightened around him, constricting his sensitized body like something stabbing into it, wet moans spilled out of him despite his every effort.

"Haauh, hah... my body... my body won't move... you... aah, nngh! What... what are you doing to me...! Haa, haang..."

A state of total submission, unable to freely move so much as a toe or a fingertip. Jian's face, flushed scarlet with heat, trembled in fine shivers. Tears beaded at the corners of his eyes, and as he looked up at the three of them through pupils gone slack and unfocused, only scorching breaths and debauched, honey-sweet moans kept spilling from between his lips, again and again.