Grey kicked over Duko’s body with a slam of his heel. He was so hyped his body practically vibrated, every fiber of his being shouting along with him.

"FUCK YEAH!"

BANG!

He shot into the skies. Now was not the time to waste precious moments. He had already found exactly where Thi Lan and Amunet were, and for now, they didn’t seem in the way of any immediate danger. He just had to keep killing.

There weren’t that many left in the maze, and once he was done, he could figure out how to get them out of here.

...

Thi Lan would have laughed and laughed if she wasn’t so scared of making a sound. Whatever was going on here, she didn’t want to interfere at all. If they got found, that would just make things harder on Grey and she felt like they had already burdened him enough.

She had known that Grey was strong, she had once had a broken leg to prove as much.

But this... this just felt...

"Absolutely insane..." she whispered, looking at Amunet who didn’t show any signs of waking up.

"Just hold on a little longer, Amunet. We’re almost out of here..."

Honestly, Thi Lan was trying hard not to think about what it would mean after all their enemies were dead. Could they really get out of here?

Grey wasn’t the only person who had killed several others. The Volthari had, Duko had, and the Charming Viper had as well. In fact, she and Amunet had as well.

But none seemed closer to actually being able to leave this place.

A horrifying thought was brewing at the back of her mind, one that was starting to encroach more and more now that the immediate danger seemed to be over.

What if this Instance hadn’t ended yet because only one could leave...?

Thi Lan looked down at Amunet, her heart growing heavy again. This place had been triggered by the arms of the Old One. It wouldn’t be a surprise at all if the Ancestors of the Dark Kin had such a sinister arena...

What Thi Lan didn’t realize was that the immediate danger was certainly not over.

**

Associate Producer Risha rolled one of her breasts in a palm, her other hand slipped deep into the V collar line of her tight-fitting clothes as a sound that echoed with a particular wet and sloppy resonance filled the air.

She bit onto her bottom lip hard as she watched Grey fight, her eyes practically rolling to the back of her head from time to time.

The tentacles that formed her hair radiated with a beautiful luster, almost like sky blues and vibrant violet fluorescence was swimming beneath her skin.

It was a sight as beautiful to behold as the large mound of her breasts, but even they became vulgar as she flexed them. They snapped free from their hair tie, wrapping around her own throat and constricting her airways.

"Oh god, yes..."

She slipped a third finger inside of herself, using her pinky to tease a very different sort of hole. The wet slapping sound became more intense.

Risha’s Assistant Producer looked up from his desk and shook his head, pretending not to see anything.

Everyone else had a range of reactions from staring ahead at their work deadpan, to only pretending to work with red faces. Some of the bolder ones snuck actual glances.

Risha’s tentacle hair suddenly slipped down from and into her V-line, ripping her clothing apart as her back slammed into the back of her chair and her ass flexed.

She just barely managed to rip a pair of beautiful, silvery blue lips free from their constraints before a splashing stream of liquid projectile launched itself through the air...

Slapping right against her Assistant Producer’s face.

He sighed again, slowly wiping his face with a swipe down of his hand.

A blob suddenly rushed over from the side as Risha sank back into her chair. It cleaned everything up swiftly before dashing away.

Risha smiled, but the lust in her eyes seemed to burn even brighter.

She knew that this play wasn’t going to end so easily. Now... wouldn’t that just be a bit boring?

Her screens flickered over to Amunet, and then another screen landed on a certain female Syrn.

"But... I don’t think I’ll have to be the one to do anything about that."

**

Producer Endes sat with his fingers interlaced. Viewership was way up. No one wanted to watch any feed other than what was going on with Grey and the invasion right now.

This was exactly the sort of early arc entertainment that Cracked Worlds were supposed to provide. That was why they had invested so much into bringing Earth into the greater universe long before it was truly ready.

But even as the money rolled in, and the likelihood of Genesis Council accepting their bid increased, the looming problem that Gard had left behind was growing ever larger with every roadblock Grey crashed through.

Endes had yet to make any power plays himself. Gard had overextended himself, and that was the very same reason why his son had to take over his mantle now.

Right this moment, enough people wanted Grey dead and were trying their damnedest to make it happen. There was no need for him to act in the first place.

But even so...

Grey just kept improving, kept crashing through every barrier put up ahead of him, and every time he was slighted, he just seemed to come back with a greater vengeance.

And...

There seemed to be people sympathetic to his cause that were interfering as well... people who seemed to know more about what he was than even he did.

Producer Endes looked over to the side with an indifferent gaze. Bundled up and half dead was a man. His tongue had been cut out of his mouth and lay limply on the ground.

Endes had found this man poking and snooping around, trying to gain an advantage after he had gone through all of Gard’s records to see if there was anything he could pick up.

"Muskrat, is it...?" Endes asked slowly.