"—She's gonna smite us. She's going to obliterate our asses," hissed the first voice in a panicked whisper, echoing somewhere in the mists.

"Oh, calm down," said the second voice, silky and smug. "We're not interfering. We're... investigating. Enlightened inquiry is divine tradition."

"We're soaked in prayers for him," moaned the third. "It's embarrassing.

The three voices bickered through clouds that shimmered like liquefied pearl. A gentle warmth kissed his skin. Somewhere, distant harps plucked in harmony with sensual sighs.

"We had no choice! The prayers wouldn't stop. Hundreds, thousands. Orgies, temples, love-shrines! All crying out the same name."

"Yes, yes. The Pleasure Prince. The world wants the Prince of Pleasure. And we didn't even know what a Pleasure Prince was until a few weeks ago."

"And now he's here. Sleeping. In our bed."

A silence followed.

Then, softly…

"...Did we steal from Mother?"

More silence.

"Shhh. He's waking up."

Pip stirred.

He felt warm. Too warm. But not the uncomfortable kind. More like he was cradled in the embrace of a freshly made bed after an exhausting day, limbs light, soul heavy, head fogged with comfort.

His eyes blinked open to a scene that defied comprehension.

The room looked like a dream born from a designer's wet fantasy. Billowing drapes of stardust framed tall arches. And a vast bed swirled with divine silks and fur beneath him.

Somewhere, honeyed incense wafted into the air. And soft moans. Heavenly moans. Like the wind itself was getting gently pleasured by angels.

His fingers brushed against something impossibly soft.

Clouds? he thought groggily. Marshmallow clouds? Am I dead? Again?

Then he looked up… and yelped.

Three titanic figures floated above him.

All women.

All glorious.

Their skin shimmered like moonlight on fine wine, adorned in sheer fabrics that clung only where it made things worse. One had thick, golden braids and wide hips that could crush entire philosophies. The second lounged sideways, pale and opalescent, her hair like a dark nebula. The third hovered upside down, pink-haired and laughing, her full breasts defying gravity and decency alike.

And none of them were wearing pants.

Or bras.

Or much of anything.

He blinked once.

Then screamed. "AHHHH!!"

The goddesses smiled down warmly, like mothers watching a puppy discover its reflection for the first time.

"Welcome, little spark," purred the one with golden hair, twirling lazily through the air. "You may call me Bela."

"You're even cuter awake," said the pink one, upside down. "I'm Nela."

"And I'm Hela." said the dark-haired one, descending like a raven with hips. "Do you know where you are?"

Pip shook his head rapidly.

The upside-down one cartwheeled through the air. "We are the Sisters of Mercy!" she proclaimed. "Daughters of the Great Mother Herself."

"Bringers of grace," purred Bela.

"And collectors of gossip," said Nela.

"We listen to prayers," Nela added cheerfully. "And lately… we have been hearing a lot about you."

Pip gave a slow, horrified nod.

Then said, softly. "Beep."

A pause.

He blinked again.

"Beep? Wait. Wait!" He scrambled upright, looking down at himself. "I have… my mouth… my hands… m-my junk! Holy shit!"

He started hyperventilating, patting his face and torso. "This is my body! From my old world! This… this shouldn't be possible! This is my actual dick, I haven't seen this guy since… since I died?!"

All three goddesses floated down and gently wrapped around him, like an anxious mortal burrito in divine arms.

"It's alright, little one," cooed Bela, stroking his hair.

"You're safe. You're in heaven," whispered Nela, nuzzling his cheek.

"We just wanted to meet you," purred Hela. "You've been… very popular lately."

"I-I-I don't understand. Am I dead? Again?!"

"Not quite," said Bela. "Your soul essence has been pulled here, temporarily. We had to make a bit of a scene."

"We don't usually do this," said Nela.

"Mother hates it when we mess with souls," said Hela.

"But your energy spiked so high after the last… session, we finally got a lock on you."

Pip blinked.

"Session?"

"Oh, you don't remember? The Saint Sister? All that holiness? The… sensual overload?"

Pip winced. "Oh my god, I exploded!"

All three goddesses giggled like girls at a slumber party.

"Quite magnificently," said the Hela.

"And now here you are," said Nela, "confusing the heavens, breaking divine tracking systems, and turning worshippers into poets."

Bela brushed a finger down Pip's bare chest. "We just wanted to know who you are. Because, frankly? We thought someone was messing with the prayer network. Until we realized that the requests for you were all sincere."

Pip gulped.

"Why me? I'm not special. I'm… I was a nobody! I died alone! Someone just… plucked my soul out of the ether and shoved it into a warm pleasure construct. That's it. That's all I am."

A beat.

Then, softly, "...Or that's what I thought."

The goddesses sat in the air around him like oversized sorority sisters listening to tea.

"She gave me my second life," Pip said, his voice no longer shaky. "She believed in me before I even believed in myself. And when I didn't know what to be, she let me be whatever I wanted."

A long pause.

The goddesses sat, eyes wide, lips parted.

"The Blackthorn girl... you love her," said Nela, dreamily.

"More than anything," Pip said, smiling. "I'd do anything for her."

-------------

Meanwhile…

Vuvi was surrounded by shattered limbs, gears, and coils.

The divine crystal core glowed faintly in her hands. Her cheeks were soaked with tears. Tools and schematics were scattered around the bedroom floor.

"I'm going to bring him back," she whispered. "No matter what. No. Matter. What!"

Sera, Lula, and Penelo crouched beside her, worried and teary-eyed. Sparks flew from Vuvi's shoulder rig as she welded part of Pip's spinal chassis.

"Vuvi," Sera whispered, "maybe—"

"Don't!" Vuvi's voice was jagged glass. "Don't you dare tell me he's gone."

Lula sniffled. "We just want you to rest. You haven't eaten—"

"Why would I eat?" Vuvi snapped. "While the gods rip apart the only thing that's made this cursed world bearable?"

The Saint Sister approached quietly. "Lady Blackthorn… I believe the Great Mother—"

Vuvi stood up.

The blowtorch flared in her hand.

The Saint Sister froze.

"Get out," Vuvi said, eyes blazing. "Before I take your goddamn tongue and mail it to your goddamn temple."

The Saint Sister gasped. "I… he's with Her now! Surely the Great Mother—"

"I don't give a damn where he is," Vuvi growled. "He's mine. He was happy. He made people hope again. He made them feel. And your divine bitch of a sky-mom ripped him apart!"

Veena stepped in fast, grabbing the Saint Sister's arm and yanking her away.

"I think it's time you left," Veena said softly.

The Saint Sister nodded numbly and followed her toward the stairs. As she descended, she stumbled, then dropped to her knees, sobbing.

"Bring him back…" she choked. "O' Great Mother, pleeeeease. The world needs him."

A monk crawled forward, stunned. "Sister… w-what happened?"

Through her tears, she whispered, "He… ascended. The Great Mother… took him."

Gasps echoed across the courtyard.

And then the wailing began.

Back inside…

Vuvi rose from the floor, holding Pip's divine crystal to her chest. Her body shook with rage and purpose.

Behind her, Sera hefted a crate of Pip's parts. Lula grabbed a power conduit. Penelo followed with Pip's favorite oils and perfumes. Veena and Zora behind them with food and drinks.

Vuvi slung a tool bag across her back, strapped the Boombuster over her shoulder, and stormed toward the stairs.

The crowd parted before her like reeds in a storm.

At the bottom of the stairs, the Saint Sister looked up through swollen eyes.

"Where are you going?" she asked.

Vuvi stopped and turned.

Her voice a thunderclap.

"I'm gonna fix Pip… or die trying."

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