omori manic

The fights continued, but they were becoming more and more drawn out. The weakest combatants had all been culled in the first three rounds, and now the remaining warriors were going at it with everything they had. Eventually, Noah’s first target entered the arena. He was a young man, spirited and garbed in plate mail, having won his fights with hard-won determination and effort. His name was Falco. Noah followed him outside, the warrior unaware of his presence. On the other end of the ring, his opponent arrived, another man, a few inches taller and years older, wearing dark clothes and an amused smirk upon seeing Falco. Both were brawlers, entering the ring without weapons.

“That’s what it’s going to taste like when you clean my pussy next time.”“You keep saying next time…” She gave me a fake pouty face.

Sure that the replica headband was safe, he took a deep breath and put it on. The second the knot was tied, his whole body spasmed and became rigid, leaving him unable to move, as if he were awake during surgery. It was a strange sensation, like every muscle had a weight attached. Fortunately, his heart and lungs seemed unencumbered, so he wasn’t in danger, and he could also still speak, probably so that the user could call for help since they likely wouldn’t be able to remove the headband on their own, but no matter how much he pushed or pulled, he could not resist the invisible binds. Saimallah said that the wearer could only move by keeping their mana energized and flowing at full capacity, so that’s what Noah focused on.