Villain Transmigration: Author Transformation

A squeak from the outside window ruined the silence that instilled the room. 

Though to Athan, it was someone he was familiar with, and his sullen eyes darted to the broken window pane—which a small gargoyle, just fit enough to enter one of the smaller squares that had its glass completely shattered, trudged carefully before it landed on the floor that littered with debris.

Upon flapping, the craggy wings somehow shifted to a large silhouette, emitting a dim glow. A slight creak resounded in the air as soon as the creature plopped the ground.

Size with such majestic, crystalline features on its limbs and towards its head, and the emerald eyes that burned bright all the time.

It was Nero, in which Athan rolled his eyes and leaned his head against the broken drawers. He was on the ground with one knee close to his chest. 

"Why don't you look at these, you've gotten much worse than ever before." Nero turned his head around, disgusted how the room got chaotic in plain sight.

"Save your words, Nero." Athan scratched his head; he stood, and his disheveled hair dangled as he trudged towards the messy bed. "How's the response of Matthew?"

"Rest assured, and he swore in his name that he already tracked Mystique's current whereabouts." 

Nero's words became a beacon that lit up in the sea of darkness that was ahead of him.

"Alas, I can finally have an answer to this—" He began to stagger on his pace, several inches away from the bed, but he collapsed on the ground as he wasn't able to take the unbearable itch and pain that attacked him.

"... It's starting already?" Nero peered at his pitiful stature, but his eyes screamed that even he couldn't do anything about it. 

'Not this again….' He took a deep breath as he curbed to the ground; his hand clutched onto his chest as if he wanted to tear apart and to relieve from the palpitations. 

It was a tad harder to breathe, and his vision was one step away from waning further to the darkness and almost accepted the fate of his flesh.

The tide of euphoria plunged to his bone, making every part of his body tremble and shudder in deep pleasure.

Every muscle he could discern would've such spasms he couldn't control, but the worst part was his throbbing manhood that was elated for unknown reasons.

The intense carnal sensations made him physically feel good, but his boggled mind begged to differ. 

As he was on all fours, he couldn't help but curse aloud and clawed onto the ground. He then grabbed his hair out of frustration as his legs quivered.

But his angry howls gradually became an earful moan. 

Somehow, he thought it was disgusting for how many times it had happened, yet none of which resulted from at least touching and playing himself.

It was just the sudden onset of pleasure that came knocking through his door and assaulted him regardless of his time and place.

Athan, yet again, had to endure the momentary torture that befell him for a few minutes.

When it somehow subsided, he reached for the edge of the bed, clinging to it. His chest rose and fell quickly as the sweat breakout drenched him all over.

His hands anchored on the warm quilt as he glanced at the ceiling, almost contemplating what went wrong.

It has been days since the incident happened, and not even a single moment passed that it drove him the tiny bit of sanity he had left.

Almost every now and then, his body would start to feel such tremors, rapid heartbeats, and hitched breaths until it became convulsions he could no longer bear and succumb to its effect.

He covered his face with both hands before raking the locks of his ebony hair to the back.

Athan was livid; for the first time, such a thing has ever happened to him, not even in his past lives could attest to this phenomenon.

"All I wanted was to rest; it's been days since I get to taste a peaceful sleep even yet when I do so, it's a living nightmare I couldn't wake up in," he mumbled.

"Do you think this has something to do with her?"

Eyebrows of Athan furrowed deep and then looked at Nero, who also had a concern in his visage. "What on good heavens had things gone wrong if not for her then?"

"I suppose you're right on that."

It was that day he met her, and as though a curse cast upon him.

A Curse from Mystique, which he deduced, asked Matthew via Nero to locate her to seek answers. Part of him wanted to ignore the possibility, but then he remembered how he equally threatened her the same way.

This had severely hindered every opportunity he had to take. The side effect strengthens as his body reaches the limit.

It was nearly impossible for him to rest, and he had no choice but to keep himself awake—for whatever method he would do—or else a living hell awaited him.

At the same time, he had only deliberated his tasks, in which he could just do them finely and, perhaps, efficiently as he knew the actions needed to be done.

'It's time to prepare." He stood up and went to the bathroom to freshen up. 

Athan grabbed the hem of his sleeves and trousers in one fluid motion, and he was built akin to the gods. Afterwhich, he took a deep breath and turned on the shower.

Exposing his bare skin to the droplets of water gushing out of the shower, warm and steady, he shut his eyes and enjoyed the spur of the moment.

The clear pearls of water, drip by drip, sprinkled against his warm, flushed skin—with some of them being large and heavy enough to streak down every cut and lean of his muscles. After some time, the water cascaded smoothly across his skin, hugging his body gently, and the tensed muscles from his arms and chiseled torso relaxed.

With his now damp hair donning him like it was his second skin, he glared at the walls with the thought of a preventive measure and conspiracies Mystique used against him.

"Now that I've found you—don't think you're not the only one who could be ahead of time."