(I thought I'd also introduce the Vyx story line.)
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We've drifted for so long, we can't remember how we began. All we know now is that, somewhere in the universe, we are no where. Starving in the blackness, every star an unreachable salvation: we are alone. This is when the regression began.
Our kind has always been split into two races. The Ejen, who guard their evolution from the void, and the Vower, the ones lost to chaos. The ones who, for immortality, embraced disease and found only devolution.
The disease is called the Nilus. Nature is designed to consume and breed. Behaviors which are fatal in the galactic desert. Our ancestors saved us from that extinction by turning our nature in on itself.
The Nilus runs through us, webbing the cells together. Ecstasy triggers it, making us cum blood and much more. Stimulated, we sweat out our lives on every orgasm, the cum being absorbed by whomever is in contact.
We self-evolved into cannibals of our own sexuality. A fetish that secured our own survival. Through the Nilus, we were forced to ration our desires. But the Vowers have forgotten that.
Immortality has exposed them too long to the Nilus. They have mutated into bestial monsters, digesting their victims in intoxicating slimes, fucking them to death. They have devoured so much of their own kind it has left their fleets a graveyard of ghost ships.
A graveyard ripe with salvage.
The Vowers have become ravenous animals; but we are still starving. Those ships are the difference between reaching a living world or fading away in the black. We must risk it.
Upon that realization, the Vyxes were born. Soldier class: the Vyx were built to battle the Vower - to fight or withstand seduction. They were our deadliest weapon. Too deadly, infact.
To avoid a coup, the Vyx were all but destroyed. For one was spared: Ilio Vyxes. She was exiled from the Ejen, forever tasked to scour the graveyard for salvage, fighting whatever raping predators she falls prey to.
This is her story.
