You every sense is heightened beyond what it was. Your body is filled to the brim with boundless, tireless energy that you have never felt before. Pain and the delicious numbness of regeneration has sharpened and dulled your thoughts in strange ways, making you ever-so-painfully aware of life's myriad joys and struggles. Especially when sensation returns to certain unmentionable - but phenomenally well shaped and cared for - parts of your anatomy that set alight certain instincts that run rampant in a near-death situation.

Dormandal always told you that the misattribution of arousal was a vital part of forming romantic bonds. That's why amusement parks geared towards couples always have rides designed to frighten - or, at least, exhilarate - the guests in certain, subtle ways. The height of a Ferris Wheel tells the lizard brain to increase its awareness of its surroundings, but the risen monkey's foolish thoughts attribute that increased awareness to the charm of person they're courting.

And here you stand, panting from exertion, brimming with energy, your awareness heightened beyond any sensation you've experienced before, and surrounded by strapping young men and women bound to your will.

When you catch the whiff of void corruption still fast upon - a corruption you can purify - well, that's all the excuse you need to give into [your desires][the Third Sin].

"Come~!" you order your host of revenants. The living armor clinging to your skin folds back until your torso alone is left in naught but the black bodysuit you wear beneath. With a flex of your will, even that melts away, leaving your bosom and other places to bask in the warmth of the noonday sun. "Now is the time to revel in our victory, and be purified~

====

Holy fuck.

No wonder you morties get so obsessed with the idea of getting it on like rabbits. I always thought it was the old man's propaganda, that 'be fruitful and multiply' commandment he gave to the first of you just carving into your psyche like Jack carved up those whores. I never thought that the act alone would hit like an uncut line of distilled first light.

That's how the succubi kept undermining so many good nights, isn't it? How they converted even a stout and faithful heart like Molay to become a succubus when they gave him the choice...

And it's working, too. What a way to purify the taint of the void.

Squeeze it out of all the guys, suckle it out of all the gals, and filled the void with something of your own making. Give me a whole priory of nuns willing to do this sort of work a million years ago, I bet the Old Guard would have won the Rapture War. Then old 'Luminaire' would never have fucking... ah, you don't care about that right now, do you?

...

...

...

Seriously, still going at it? That woulda fried my brain if I didn't disconnect after the first ten... whatever that explosion of joy was, bitch.