Chapter 171: Albedo’s +17 Reward and Punishment. Group Meeting and Choices.

The command center is two levels down - you find Albedo at the central console, her white gown pristine, golden spiderweb necklace catching the overhead lights. She's reviewing something on a tablet, her wings folded tight against her back.

She looks up as you enter. "Brad. Hinata reports thirty-two remaining on decks four through two. Erza estimates forty-five minutes to completion."

You cross the room smoothly, reach up, and grab her horn.

Albedo's breath catches - a sharp, involuntary sound. Her golden eyes widen. You pull her head toward yours and kiss her deeply, your other hand sliding along the folded membrane of her wing. She shudders against you, a low moan vibrating between your mouths. Her wings twitch under your palm, sensitive nerve endings firing.

When you break the kiss, she's flushed, lips parted, pupils blown wide.

"That," you say, "is your reward. For being protective."

Her chest rises and falls rapidly. "I-"

"Now." Your voice shifts. "Remove your dress. Bend over my lap."

Albedo's expression flickers - surprise, arousal, something calculating beneath. But she obeys. The white gown pools at her feet. Beneath it: a lacy white bra, matching panties, the gold necklace. You settle into the nearest chair and she drapes herself across your thighs, wings folding awkwardly to accommodate the position.

You unhook her bra. It falls away, freeing her heavy breasts. Then you hook your thumbs into her panties and draw them down her thighs, exposing the pale curve of her ass.

The first spank is gentle - more caress than strike. Your palm connects with soft flesh and Albedo gasps, her wings flaring reflexively. Your other hand finds her breast, rolling her nipple between thumb and forefinger.

"This," spank, "is your punishment," gentle squeeze of her nipple, "for being controlling."

Another spank. Harder this time, but still teasing. Her skin pinkens where your hand lands. Albedo's hips shift against your thigh, her breath coming in short, controlled bursts.

"A full written complaint, complete with bullet points," you murmur, palm sliding over the warmth you've created. Your fingers pinch her nipple, tugging slightly. She arches. "Multiple pages."

Spank. Her ass bounces. Your fingers twist.

"I intend to read every one."

Albedo's wings tremble. Her voice comes out strained. "You- you will read my complaint?"

"Every word." Spank. Squeeze. Her nipple hardens between your fingers. "I'll address it formally at the next proper meeting. But first..."

You bring your palm down again, watching the flesh ripple, feeling her grind subtly against your leg. Her complaint is forgotten - or at least temporarily tabled - as your attention alternates between reddening her ass and working her breasts, deliberate, teasing and thorough.

You build her up slowly. Each spank lands with careful precision - never hard enough to truly sting, always firm enough to make her gasp. Your fingers work her nipples in alternating rhythm, pinching and rolling, tugging until her back arches off your lap. Albedo's wings tremble with each touch, the membrane twitching involuntarily when you trace your fingernails across the sensitive roots where wings meets her spine.

Her breathing grows ragged. Her hips grind against your thigh in small, desperate circles. You can feel the heat radiating from between her legs, the slick wetness dampening your cargo pants where she presses.

"Brad-" Her voice cracks. "Please-"

You bring your palm down one final time, cupping the reddened curve of her ass, and then pull her panties up, smoothing the band before stopping entirely. Your hands lift away from her body.

Albedo makes a sound somewhere between a whimper and a growl. Her wings flare wide, then fold tight against her back in frustration. She turns her head, golden eyes blazing with need.

"Dress back on," you say. "We have a meeting."

She stares at you for three full seconds. Then she rises from your lap, legs unsteady, and reaches for the white gown pooled on the floor. Her fingers tremble as she pulls it up over her hips, her swollen breasts, settling the fabric into place. The gold spiderweb necklace catches the light as she adjusts the neckline.

"Lead the way," you tell her.

Albedo's spine straightens. She walks ahead of you through the corridor, her gait slightly unsteady, her wings pressed tight to minimize the visible trembling. You watch the sway of her hips beneath the white fabric - the gown clinging to every curve, the faint pink visible through the thin material where you'd reddened her skin.

She glances back once. You're staring openly at her outline. A soft, involuntary whimper escapes her lips.

You give her ass one last gentle slap as you reach the galley entrance. She stumbles forward, catching herself on the doorframe.

The galley is already populated. Rika sits at the long table in her tactical vest, cleaning a pistol with practiced movements. Violet is beside her, blonde hair catching the overhead lights, hands folded neatly. Asia occupies a corner booth with Priestess, the blonde nun's white-gold robes draped around her thin frame as she picks at a plate of food.

Esdeath asleep on a gurney near the Mansion's door garners the occasional glance.

Kurumi stands at the counter in her French maid outfit, heterochromatic eyes bright as she arranges what appears to be fresh-baked pizza on serving trays. Kurumu hovers nearby in purple underwear, blue hair cascading over her shoulders, sniffing appreciatively at the cheese.

"It's almost ready!" Kurumu announces. "Kurumi's crust is perfect this time."

Roxanne sits at the table in her maid uniform, silver collar glinting, ears twitching as she listens to something Nova is explaining. The psionic sniper leans against the wall in her midnight armor, arms crossed. Rei occupies the seat beside them, red eyes blank but posture slightly more relaxed than baseline.

C.C. sprawls in a chair near the porthole, green hair messy, a slice of pizza already in hand despite it being fresh from the oven. Riveria sits beside her in white lace and collar, jade eyes tracking the room with quiet authority. Emilia occupies another seat, silver-lavender hair loose, nibbling something Tuka has offered her from across the table.

You note absences immediately. Robin isn't here - likely assisting Bulma with the corpses. Shinobu's absence is explained when Kurumi addresses it having noticed your looking, "Shinobu said the meeting was irrelevant to her interests and went to guard from Monkey Island instead."

Nami's still on the bridge. Bulma and Robin are in the engineering bay.

The assault team hasn't arrived yet - Erza, Yoruichi, Musashi, Mikasa, Sango, Hinata, Liza and Rin are still finishing the Icon's clearing.

Albedo settles into a seat at the table, smoothing her gown with deliberate composure despite the flush still visible on her cheeks and the way her thighs press together beneath the fabric.

You start walking slowly around the galley of pretty girls. C.C. lifts her cheek for a kiss without looking up from her pizza, green hair falling across her face. Riveria rises from her seat, jade eyes warm, and you cup her jaw gently - she leans into it, collar glinting. Emilia beams up at you, silver-lavender hair catching the light as you press your lips to her forehead. Tuka gets a squeeze of her shoulder. Nova tilts her head back against the wall and grins as you kiss her cheek, psionic presence brushing yours like a cat rubbing against a leg.

Rei accepts your touch with that blank-but-present expression, red eyes tracking you. Kurumu practically launches herself at you, blue hair flying, pressing her soft breasts against your chest. "Master~" she sings after releasing you from her deep kiss. Roxanne's tail wags once as you brush past, her amber eyes bright with simple happiness.

Asia and Priestess sit together in their corner booth. You kiss Asia's temple and she blushes, while Priestess watches with wide eyes - simple fascination.

Rika nods as you pass. Violet folds her hands and inclines her head with quiet dignity.

Maria and Sinon emerge from the Mansion door ten minutes later. Maria's violet eyes find yours immediately - she mouths "still sleeping" and gestures toward the Mansion. Sinon's turquoise gaze is steadier now, the earlier confession settling into something warm and certain.

Nami arrives next, practically bouncing through the galley door. Her orange hair is casually mussed, and her eyes are bright with barely contained excitement. "The Icon is mine," she announces to no one in particular, sliding into a seat. "I saw it through the web. Twenty decks, Brad. Twenty decks!"

Bulma appears with Robin in tow, both looking tired but satisfied. Bulma's blue ponytail is slightly disheveled. "Bodies are secured," she reports. "Cold storage compartment seven. Robin documented everything." Robin settles into a seat with her notebook, black hair falling across her face.

Then the assault team.

Rin and Liza come through first, Liza's tail sweeping once at seeing you. Behind them: Erza, her scarlet hair loose from the recent exercise, Heaven's Wheel armor dismissed back to whatever pocket dimension she keeps it. Her expression is satisfied but haunted - a tightness around her eyes that speaks of things she'd rather not discuss. Musashi walks beside her, silver-pink hair wild, katana sheathed, that same quiet intensity she carries after combat. Sango's Black bodysuit and pink armor plates are clean, the cleanliness enchantment having removed any splatter, her boomerang strapped across her back.

Mikasa reaches you first. She doesn't say anything - just presses her body against yours, arms wrapping around your waist, face buried in your chest. You feel her exhale slowly.

"Smells terrible out there," she murmurs against your shirt.

Hinata appears at your side, lavender eyes soft, maid uniform still pristine. She takes your hand and squeezes.

Yoruichi materializes practically on your lap as you settle into a central chair, dark skin gleaming, purple hair cascading over your shoulder. Her minimal robe has shifted to something even more minimal during the assault. "I believe," she purrs against your ear, "that someone owes me a reward for clearing an entire cruise ship."

Erza sits heavily, accepting a plate of pizza from Jessica Vaughn without really looking at it. Musashi takes the seat beside her, close enough that their shoulders touch - a silent solidarity.

"There were children," Sango says quietly, not to anyone in particular. Her fingers grip her chopsticks too tightly.

The galley falls silent for a moment. You feel the weight of it - thirty-odd people looking at you, waiting. The pizza smells incredible. Kurumi has outdone herself.

You rise from your chair, Yoruichi still draped across you with zero intention of moving.

You step slowly back-up onto the galley table's seat, sitting on the table, rising just enough above everyone to command the room. Yoruichi shifts on your lap without hesitation, her dark thighs straddling yours, purple hair cascading down your shoulder. Her minimal robe has ridden up during the transition, and you can feel the heat of her pressed against your cargo pants. She settles with a satisfied purr, arms looping around your neck.

The room quiets. Thirty pairs of eyes fix on you.

"On that note," you begin, settling your hands visibly on Yoruichi's back. "I'll start by announcing that I'll be resurrecting all of the passengers."

The silence lasts exactly two seconds.

Erza's scarlet head snaps up. Her fork clatters against her plate. Musashi's hand finds Erza's shoulder - not comfort, but recognition. Sango's chopsticks slip from her fingers entirely.

"Every corpse on that ship," you continue. "I'll be setting the Icon to automatically resurrect any corpse on it with a ten-second delay. That keeps the mana from bottoming out. Along with Dominate Person automatically cast every ten seconds. Per our previously negotiated terms, they'll serve for half of their expected lifespans - more if they accept having their youth returned."

Sango's voice cracks. "The children?"

"All of them."

Her eyes close. A single breath shudders out of her. Musashi's grip on Erza's shoulder tightens visibly.

"For the other three cruise ships," you press on, "I intend on placing two magic circles on each of them tonight. The front circle transports them to Los Angeles - that area has had fuel for days, should have some semblance of law starting or at least a lawless travel network. The second circle at the back transports them to the Icon, where they'll be automatically dominated as slaves for the duration of their stay. In the morning I'll re-announce this to the ships. They can go to land and make their own living, or they can be magically enslaved on a magic ship. They haven't asked for actual service, only sanctuary, so they'll be allowed to leave at any time - but I will not allow them to come and go freely."

C.C. takes another bite of pizza, utterly unsurprised. Rin's expression is complicated - analytical satisfaction warring with something darker.

"Before the six of you who just had to kill those zombies get the wrong idea," you say, meeting Erza's eyes directly, "what would have happened if I started resurrecting them one at a time in the middle of the pre-existing horde? Set to resurrect automatically every ten seconds after death?"

Erza's jaw tightens. She understands immediately.

"Yeah. That wouldn't have been pretty. While a bad experience - thank you for making this next step possible."

Musashi nods once. Erza exhales slowly, the haunted tightness around her eyes loosening by a fraction.

You let that settle. Yoruichi shifts on your lap, grinding subtly - her way of reminding you she exists during serious moments.

"Next announcement. Esdeath, Hancock, and Tatsumaki." You pause. "Should we wake them tonight, or wait for tomorrow? The enchantments will keep them comfortable and asleep as long as we need. I'm giving all of you the choice of when we step into this. Akame and Yugito will be arriving with tomorrow morning's list regardless."

The room erupts into overlapping voices.

"Tomorrow," Rin says immediately. "We need everyone rested for cruise ship coordination at dawn."

"Tonight," Yoruichi counters from your lap, her breath hot against your ear. "I want to see the esper wake up confused."

"Tomorrow," Albedo echoes, her voice slightly strained - still flushed from earlier. "We should address the governance complaint formally first."

Mikasa speaks quietly from beside you. "Tomorrow. We should be fresh."

Hinata tilts her head. "Hancock-san and Esdeath-san are both prideful warriors. Morning would show more respect."

Rika raises her hand like she's in a briefing. "Strategic recommendation: wake one at a time, spaced apart. Not all three simultaneously. Tatsumaki first - she's the most volatile."

Nova's psionic presence brushes yours. "I can contain Tatsumaki if she goes nuclear. But I'd rather do it after a full night's rest."

The consensus is clear - tomorrow. But the question of who first remains open.

"Tomorrow, then," you agree, Yoruichi's weight warm on your lap. "And honestly, we might as well get all five together - Tatsumaki, Hancock, Esdeath, plus Akame and Yugito when they arrive. One event, address them all at once."

Rika nods approvingly.

"Tatsumaki is the most emotional," you continue, "but I suspect she used powers over this world's limit and is half-crippled on top of being limited because of it. Her status says all her powers are locked. Regardless, I'll paralyze them all and let them wake up before we address them one at a time. Reduces the chance of anyone attacking us."

Nova's psionic presence brushes agreement. "Smart. Containment first, conversation second."

You shift your weight slightly, Yoruichi adjusting without complaint. "Next announcement. I intend to resurrect the male corpse we retrieved - Vash the Stampede."

Bulma looks up from her pizza, blue ponytail swinging. "The Plant-alien? His energy signature is unique. I've already finished the shrapnel removal."

"Impressively quick, thank you. He lived on a desert planet his entire life," you say. "He wouldn't stay on the ship after seeing this world. I'll see him off in Trinidad - let him experience greenery and life without dropping him in a rainforest."

Erza tilts her head. "You're just... letting him go?"

"He's an extreme pacifist with a guilt complex spanning a century. He'd be more useful to us free to act and grateful than chained and resentful."

Musashi studies you for a moment, then nods slowly. A warrior recognizing another warrior's logic.

"The female corpse," you say, and your tone shifts. "Masane Amaha. While I'm willing to resurrect her if requested, I'd prefer we leave her as a corpse until I'm able to send her home."

The room quiets.

"The Masane from the stories I know is an adult child with motherly instincts and negative capability. Massive tits and an equally overbearing personality. She demands choices and options while making them purely on emotional stance, not logic or intellect. She's a poster-child for her brains being in her boobs - even kidnapping a child after her pregnancy failed."

Sango's eyebrows rise. Asia's hand finds Priestess's under the table.

"While sad, she is two massive headaches I'd prefer not to deal with or let loose on this world. Especially when you add in the Witchblade. That artifact likely breaks the limitation imposed on each of you when arriving here. It steals nutrients and lifespan from its host, giving power based on how much is taken. In the show it basically lets her cut through giant monsters and evil machines while active."

Rin speaks first, arms folded. "You're not wrong about the Witchblade. I analyzed its magical signature. It operates on a fundamentally different paradigm than our master-servant contracted systems - parasitic symbiosis rather than cooperative framework. If it bypasses the dimensional limitation..."

"It could be catastrophic," you finish.

C.C. takes another bite of pizza, chewing thoughtfully. "So we're voting."

"I'd like all of your approval to keep her in the freezer until multidimensional Gates succeed."

Albedo straightens, still flushed but her strategic mind engaging. "I support this. An uncontrolled power source with an emotionally unstable host represents an unacceptable risk to the network."

Rika raises her hand. "Tactical agreement. Unknown artifact plus unpredictable personality equals liability."

Bulma frowns, tapping her fork against her plate. "I want to study the Witchblade further regardless. The arm is separated - I can continue analysis without resurrecting her. But..." She trails off.

"But?" you prompt.

"She was a mother. Whatever her flaws, she was trying to protect her daughter. That deserves some weight in the decision."

The room absorbs that. Hinata's lavender eyes are soft. Emilia shifts uncomfortably.

Yoruichi stretches against your chest, dark skin gleaming. "I vote freezer. We can always change our minds later."

The consensus builds - freezer, pending Gate success. Bulma nods reluctantly, conceding the point while clearly filing away her disagreement for later scientific argument.