Ali crouched by the fence of the quiet, small house. The trip had taken almost an hour, but she had arrived as the gloom of night gathered. She had found that Keltam was in the house and alone.
After watching, she selected her moment and teleported into an empty room. She moved quietly through the house, hunting for Keltam. She found him in his office/computer room engrossed in some business research.
Shaking her head, she touched the wall light switch. There was a dull silver spark as she forced a mana pulse through the house's electrical system. She used it to trip all of the fuses in the breaker box. She smiled as the room went dark and Keltam started cursing.
As he started to get up a voice came from the darkness behind him. "An' where do ya think yer goin', Nutless?" He turned quickly, trying to see who had spoken. "Who's there?"
"Ah, that'd be tellin'. Let's say your hard-earned reward." She stepped next to him, a claw trailing his cheek.
He flinched, breath catching in his throat. "Lady, what the hell..." His voice tried for defiance, but the tremor betrayed him. He leaned back against his desk, slow and casual in posture, but his fingers crept with practiced familiarity toward a long, sharp letter opener lying just within reach—his thumb brushing its hilt as if by accident.
"Oh come on, you know you deserve misery after all you've dealt. Belittling. Badgering. Molesting. How many have you hurt, bullied, screwed with?"
Even as she laid into him, her mind was racing, flying through options and thoughts. The memory she saw in Micha burned in her heart, fueling her need to see this one brought low. She had rejected just ripping his throat out on the journey here. Ending him was too easy, too kind to him.
She could curse him to confess. To the authorities. To those he would stalk. But that wouldn't be justice, only a warning. She wanted something lasting, something that would make him remember and understand.
She had layered in a compulsion for him to call his past actions to mind and mention generalities.
Keltam snorted, a sharp exhale through his nose that carried more arrogance than fear. "Freaks, faggots, and dykes? Hundreds," he said with a smirk, voice coated in venom and contempt. "Never mattered what they called themselves. All the same once they cried."
Ali's eyes narrowed as Mich'a scream echoed in her memory. "And it isn't just them, is it?"
Chuckling, he sneered, the sound low and full of derision. "No. It's the uppity ones—the ones who act like they’re better than the rest. Like they’re safe. Like someone like me can’t reach ‘em. They need reminding."
"You really are a piece of work, ain'tcha. Ball o' bigoted hate wrapped in delusions of grandeur."
Keltam growled and surged forward in a sudden, clumsy lunge, sweeping the letter opener from the desk with a snarl. The blade flashed in the faint ambient light as he aimed a desperate, underhanded strike toward her stomach. But Ali was already moving—fluid, precise. She sidestepped, one hand snapping up to catch his wrist in an iron grip. Her claws dug into the tendons just enough to stop the strike cold without drawing blood.
"That's your answer?" she said, voice low and sharp. "More violence? That all you've got left in that hollow soul?"
There was a burst of amber light from four points around them—north, south, east, and west. Poles of amber energy illuminated the windowless room, giving him his first clear look at Ali. His jaw dropped and his mind refused to believe what he saw—a six foot tall fox-woman, her eyes shimmering silver, amber, and green.
Ali smiled. "What's the matter, fox got your tongue?"
Keltam's voice was a shaky growl. "You think dressing like some freakin’ Halloween mascot makes you powerful? You ain't real. You're some drug-fueled delusion. You don't scare me."
"Ah, but that's the thing monstre, yer stone cold sober. An' even the sludge that passes f'r yer brains can tell this ain't no 'costume'." Her tails fanned out behind her, dull silver energy arcing along their fur.
He blinked, "wha—"
"I mean, really, does it look like I'm wearin' an animatronic harness? That human feet would fit in these boots?" She yawned wide, clearly showing her fangs, glinting in the amber light, and her long, curled tongue. "Ya can' be that stupid, c'n ya?"
He was shaken, his world starting to crumble. "W-what are you? What the hell are you? You can’t just—this isn’t legal!"
She snarled, teeth bared. "'Legal', you have the nerve to talk 'bout legalities? A half baked bastard that inflicts this?" She pierced his mind with the feelings she read from Micha, feelings he had caused. Amplified. Raw. The humiliation, the volition, the fear, the ideation. "Ya don' get 'legal'."
“You think the world gives a damn about me? Them? You playing saviour?" His voice was bitter, biting. "People like me—we were made, not born. Chewed up and spit out. I just stopped pretending it was fair.”
"The world is what it is. An' yer right, ultimately it does its thing. But the people in the world see things differently." She released his arm, her claws dragging his flesh and drawing blood.
The droplets floated, flattened, and thinned into a line, a curve, and, as they met the floor, became a circle around Keltam. It took on a dull silver glow.
"We care 'bout others. 'bout our homes. 'bout our family." Keltam felt the air around him thicken, holding him in place. "Pushback comes fr'm us, not the universe writ large." She looked at him, eyes glowing forest green. "You hurt my sister. I will see justice done for her."
Keltam's eyes went wide as he felt static playing across his skin. Then terror crossed his features as it crawled inside his skull, across his brain.
"義務: あなたは他人に対する義務を果たせませんでした。もうそうはなりません。同じ失敗を繰り返そうと思えば、あなたは慎み深く従順になるでしょう。
(Duty: You have failed in yours to others. You will no longer. If you think of repeating your failings you will become demure and compliant. — Japanese)"
He could feel his mind restructure. Where he would belittle, bully, tell off-colour jokes, he would now be silent, head bowed. And he would be fully aware of this restraint.
"荣誉：你一无所有。你会知道你卑劣行径的代价。你会知道你造成的感受。它们随时都会到来。激烈的。启发。令人心碎。
(Honour: You have none. You will know the costs of your vile acts. You will know the feelings you've caused. At any time, they will come. Intense. Enlightening. Harrowing. — Chinese)"
He wanted to scream. He could feel the emotions starting to bubble under the surface.
"Bảo vệ: bạn sẽ không làm hại bản thân hoặc tự tử. Ngay cả 'tự tử bằng cảnh sát'. Bạn sẽ phải chịu đựng hậu quả từ hành động của mình.
(Preservation: you will not hurt yourself or commit suicide. Even 'suicide by cop'. You will have to endure the fruits of your actions. — Vietnamese)"
"내 얘기만 하면 구미호가 와서 네 간을 훔쳐 갈 거야. 당신이 지켜보는 동안 그녀는 그것을 잔뜩 먹고, 당신이 죽기 전에 그것을 끝낼 것입니다.
(If you speak of me, a kumiho will come for your liver. She will feast on it while you watch, finishing before you die. — Korean)"
This left him with a vivid mental image of someone like her eating his liver from his chest.
"And one last thing. Tu n'auras plus besoin de tes couilles. Elles sont là, dans ma main. Ton pénis est lisse et flasque, sans prépuce ni gland, juste une tige effilée. (You will not need your balls any more. They are here in my hand. Your penis is smooth and flaccid, no foreskin or glans, just tapered shaft. — French)"
He felt the changes in his pants and watched in horror as a pair of crystalline spheres appeared in her hands.
"Enjoy yer life, Nutless." She let the spheres roll from her hand and shatter on the floor. She let the illumination and holding spells fade as she left. Once outside, she paused, listening to his wails of despondency.
