"Can you breathe in space though?" Ophelia asks , her tone casual.
"No, I can't."
"That would be a problem," she says with a shrug.
"But I can hold my breath for several hours—sotis even days," I reply.
"Well, that's good enough. I also hold my breath in space to avoid harmful cosmic energy. Once we get into Edgar Frost's ship, breathing won't be an issue," Ophelia explains, walking to her closet. She returns with a large container, placing it on the ground before pulling out an enormous piece of chalk.
She kneels down and begins drawing intricate runes on the floor, her movents precise. Her hips sway in a srizing way as she works.
"You know… you and Zella are the only ones who could make do this," Ophelia says, not looking up as she continues her work. Sweat glistens on her forehead as she focuses.
"Why is that? What am I to you?" I ask suddenly, my curiosity piqued.
Ophelia pauses briefly but resus drawing after a mont.
"B-Because… well, you're my son-in-law," she replies, her voice faltering slightly.
"Is that all?" I tease, a smirk spreading across my face.
"And you're going to be the father of my unborn children," she blurts out.
"Wait, 'children'? Do you think I'm so kind of sperm bank? Besides, didn't you say you've been waiting for ?" I ask, my tone playful.
This ti, Ophelia turns to face , her cheeks flushed a deep red.
"It's shaful to talk about sothing so… so lewd," she mutters, avoiding my gaze.
"It's not lewd to talk about love. I an, you said it yourself—you said you love , the prot—" My words are cut off as Ophelia hurls a small chunk of chalk straight into my mouth.
"D-Don't say things like that! We already talked about it," she says, flustered, glancing nervously at the door as if soone might overhear us.
"Fine." I raise my hands in surrender and decide to stay silent, watching her finish the intricate runes. After a few minutes, she puts the chalk back into the container and pulls out a large crystal. She carefully places it in the center of the design, her movents deliberate.
Then, she begins to chant so gibberish words.
The runes light up suddenly, glowing with a radiant golden light.
"Step inside," Ophelia instructs. I step into the circle, standing close to her. Unable to resist, I hug her from behind.
"I said step inside—I didn't say you should hug ," she grumbles, though she makes no real effort to push away. She's the type to be shy about admitting she enjoys affection. Perhaps, in ti, she'll grow more comfortable with .
With a sudden flash, a long staff materializes in Ophelia's hands. Without hesitation, she stabs it into the ground.
In an instant, we're teleported into space.
The stars stretch endlessly before us, and scattered space debris drifts in the void. My senses heighten and everything feels sharper, clearer, more alive. It's as if my body is perfectly attuned to this environnt.
"Jake." Ophelia's voice pulls back to reality.
"What's wrong?" I ask, noticing the crease on Ophelia's face.
"This is where the mad scientist usually docked his spaceships," she mutters, her voice tinged with confusion.
"How many years has it been?"
"Hmm..." Ophelia starts counting on her fingers. "About fifty years since I was last here," she says nonchalantly.
I chuckle at her words. "You an you ca here fifty years ago and expect his ship to still be in the sa spot? That's impossible. I could list a dozen reasons why a spaceship wouldn't stay docked that long," I say, shaking my head.
Ophelia's eyes suddenly widen.
"I have an idea. There's only one place he could have moved to and that would be near the raging star, Azmar," she says, her tone lighting up with enthusiasm.
"But there's a problem. Getting there," she adds, her voice dropping. "Even if I return to my place to use the teleportation runes, I don't have enough resources to fuel them. And teleporters won't work either, since Edgar Frost is their creator. Only he knows the source code."
I listen closely before revealing, "I have a solution."
"What?" she asks, raising a skeptical eyebrow.
"I said I have a solution. Before teleporters were invented, space travel was common. People with teleportation abilities made a living by transporting others across the universe. So used runes, like witches. It's funny how teleportation was nerfed over the years," I say with a smirk.
"You an… Espers," Ophelia whispers, her eyes widening.
"Exactly. Edgar Frost also invented artificial abilities for those without natural ones. Over ti, he weakened teleportation powers to boost the sales of his teleporters. Now, supers with original teleportation powers are rare," I explain, watching Ophelia's expression shift to shock.
"That's terrible. So, what's the plan?" she asks, her face serious.
"You'll need to stand close to ," I say with a grin.
"What?" she mutters, stepping closer hesitantly, her scent drifting toward .
"Not close enough," I tease. "Co close enough that I can feel your back pressing against ."
She glares. "I'm not even the one who wants to see Edg—"
"It's fine like this," I interrupt, pulling her closer until there's no space between us.
"You pervert..." she grumbles.
Ignoring her protest, I focus and release the full force of my vampiric aura.
"Astral Walk," I whisper. Instantly, an overwhelming force engulfs us, feeling as though it will tear us apart. We surge forward at the speed of light, the fabric of space itself ripping around us. I navigate through wormholes, taking shortcuts, until we finally erge near the raging star, Azmar.
What makes stop isn't the star itself, but the massive fleet of spaceships scattered before us. Behind them looms a colossal spaceship, its size rivaling that of a small planet. The entire scene resembles a thriving civilization.
"This..." Ophelia gasps, her voice hushed. "That's Edgar's ship. That giant vessel is a world in itself, filled with workers, factories, and labs. The smaller ships serve different purposes—hotels, banks, hos. Each one is the size of a country. It's like
an entire universe here," she says, floating forward, her gaze locked on the incredible sight.
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