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Their movements were rapid and well-practiced, displaying years of training to hone their martial arts. They did their best to avoid touching each other’s hands, but contact was inevitable, each having to negate the other’s attack. Every time their hands met, jets of steam and smoke would hiss from the contact, with Falco’s water coming to a boil, and Viktor’s flesh threatening to crack from the quenching.

Noah continued punching the bag in her place. “Since when has it ever been fair? When I was in Handent, I fought a Profane who forced me to fake my death in order to escape, and another captured me like a fly in a web. In Welindar, the battle was lost because I failed to kill Kaisen before he could transform. This is the struggle of fighting against the Profane, the struggle of being outclassed and overpowered. In this war, surviving with just a bruised ego is victory enough. You stood up to that monster, you fought, you survived.

“Hi, Mom,” I giggled, stepping inside and collecting a brief kiss from Daddy's lips and a tight squeeze of my pert little ass as I passed by. “Daddy and I really struggled about how we were going to tell you this...” I said, flouncing eagerly up onto the bed with her, crawling up until my knees could just barely fit, squeezed close together between her spread thighs. I leaned down, giving her a firm kiss on the lips that she was far too stunned to return. “In the end, we decided it would be best to just rip the band-aid off quick. You and I are going to be sharing Daddy, from here on out!”