Suddenly, the curtains of shadowy ribbons parted before them, allowing just the barest hints of light to shine through, though the general assumption was that Prof. Montclair had no windows in his office.

He played with his wire-rimmed glasses, his bangs and the darkness masking his eyes as he tossed the spectacles from one hand to the other. She could still feel his baleful eyes upon him.

"Very well," the pale teacher whispered as he put his glasses back on. "You look like a capable sort..."

His hands gave her a cool, come-hither-and-give-me-your-best gesture. "I'm not going anywhere..."

She hesitated, her mind attempted to stay focused while her body trembled seeming to be intimidated by his actions. Shaking her head quickly she stepped forward attacking him, she quickly swung her weapon around seeming to be aiming for his jaw again, this time her foot shot up kicking him in the chest, having used her weapon as a distraction.

Too slow.

Yuki was a fine example of a trained fighter, there was no doubt. Magadon had read about her background extensively, leaving no detail or factoid, no matter how trivial it seemed, forgotten.

Her attack was well thought-out, even as the aura of fear the Nal exuded naturally threatened to overwhelm her, the blow aiming straight and true while he focused on her staff.

But now, Prof. Montclair was ready.

With a whisper like a silk curtain rustling, the pull of nefarious powers swept the room, tingling Yuki's lightly-tanned skin as both her attacks met with laughable results, her staff passing through his face as though it had been nothing at all. Her foot, however, sank into his torso, caught in dreamstuff with the consistency of clay.

The pale teacher smiled down at her like an indulgent parent. "I'm sorry. What was supposed to happen?"

Behind them, Ku'o'thek laughed his soundless laugh, sending more icy fingers running up and down her spine.

Her eyes widen in confusion as her foot sunk into his torso she slowly looked up at his face gulping a bit. Cursing softly under her breath she attempted to pull her leg out of him " Wh....what ...are you.." she stuttered softly. Losing her footing with the other slipping though she was still stuck in him with her right leg.

Beyond your capacity to dream, is what we are.

The smile remained frozen on his face. The darkness had other plans with his expression, the ghastly play of light seeming to stretch his face into a hideous skull's rictus, twisting the regal features.

On its perch, the mask mirrored his smile, unseen powers unbuttoning her blazer.

Her eyes widen a bit gulping a bit. "I....I " She could not find the words to articulate what she meant to say. She trembled a bit staring at him, her body reacted to her fear, her feet slowly stepped back from him until she tripped over a pile of books, falling back hard on her bottom "o..ow"

Awww, did she trip and fall upon her bottom? Again, he favored her with that voice reminiscent of a chiding parent. Well let me help you up...

Like a school of evil iridescent eels, smooth and smoky purple tendrils shot out of the deep gloom surrounding them. Even as Yuki started to blink, each strand wrapped around a part of her body and began to twine tightly. The cloth underneath her clothes seemed, and felt, to melt before her startled eyes.

Somehow she still managed to glare at him through her fear. She tensed her body as the bindings once again constricted around her form, only this time she did not have the time nor the will to fight against them. Her body shuddered at the strange feeling. "What are...you going to do now sensei?" she asked quietly, her wide yet glaring eyes raised up to him.

With all the breaks in your schedule, I thought you'd be rested enough to help me...

He carried on like her voice was the squeak of rodents scampering about in that dusty space between floors. For a monster, he was oddly human in his manner and his prattling as her clothes continued to melt off.

The golden eyes peered down at her, an interesting specimen to the lamp-like gaze.

But you're so tense... Henceforth, I may need to help you calm down. But don't move now. I shock somewhat easy...

And sure enough, like a many-armed masseuse from some socialite's nightmare, the smoke-textured tendrils surrounded her, wrapping and pressing against Yuki's toned body.

She gasped a bit her body flinched as the strange appendages constricted her tightly, her cheeks redden a little. Yuki's eyes closed tightly trying her best to not panic, fearing it would only make things worse. A few strands of her hair fell into her face a shudder running through her body as her clothing was melted away. She whispered softly " It's not like I have much of a choice in the matter..."

The tendrils plucked Yuki out of her awkward position, only to be holding her high in the air, wreathed in an atmosphere that felt coated in centuries spent in dark crypt.

Magadon chanted, the sound sleek and evil, echoing into the murk with Ku'o's eyes glowing in counterpoint, directing the Savant's chants.

Those appendages around her breasts tightened, her nipples jutting painfully as more tendrils began a rhythmic stroking, massaging into the skin with inhuman care and precision.

She narrowed her eyebrows, struggling a bit to hold back her own moans. This proved to be a lot more difficult than she had thought it would be. Suddenly she found soft yet cute moans escaping her throat. Her cheeks redden a bit as she closed her eyes tightly. "A....ahhnnnn..." she shuddered a bit her small pink nipples hardening quickly.

Don't lose it now, you clot! Keep it together.

The older Nal'senshi acted as a voice of guidance, cruelly and coldly making sure that Magadon would not miss even the tiniest detail. For Savant magicks were capricious in their creation, almost like skittish cats clawing at their masters for the smallest mistakes.

Though the scratches their practitioners recieved were deeper and more insidious, at best they destroyed outright.

One didn't like to think about 'at worst'.

But one, the one being Magadon, liked to think about what he did when he gave the tendril tips suction cups that swallowed the little peaks whole, like the mouths of hungry lovers, mindless yet lustful.

Her mind seemed to go blank for a few moments as the strange tendril's began suckling on her pink nubs. It was a moment of wonder before her moans burst out unable to hold back, her body twitching every now and then in pure pleasure. "what....are you" she stuttered the question out not really expecting a straightforward answer. This teacher never gave any when she thought he was human...let alone in this alien form.

In reply, the Savant's tendrils slowly altered her position, parallel to his own shadow-wreathed form and close enough to be able to see her own bothered reflection in the pale ivory of his mask.

If you knew what we were, he began, inkish liquid dripping from where a jaw should be. You would never sleep. Ever. Again.

The shining dark offshoots held still as there master leaned in. The porcelain lower half slid away to reveal Prof. Montclair's colorless lips as he claimed her own in a slick yet expert kiss, a dark tongue breaking past to explore wonders most took for granted.

And through it all, Ku'o'thek never ceased chanting, taking up the slack with thrumming mind-power.