Demonic Po*nstar System

Chapter 619: Brutal Viewpoint

"Fine. Let’s see what the terrible spawn of the heartless devil is up to."

He tapped a feed with his mind, selecting none other than Luna’s because the description of ’First-Person High-Velocity Feed [Warning: Extreme Speed / Seizure Risk]’ made him curious.

The chairman’s perception lurched.

There was no gentle transition, no fade or buffer. One moment, he was seated behind reinforced glass and polished steel, the next, his awareness was inside motion itself, strapped to it, dragged along at impossible speed.

Wind screamed.

No... space screamed.

The world snapped sideways, then upside down, then folded in on itself as the horizon spun so violently it ceased to be a horizon at all. The chairman’s instincts flared instantly, mana bracing his mind, combat senses snapping into place before nausea could even think about forming.

Lightning exploded across his vision.

Blue-white arcs tore through the air in branching webs, detonating against armored monstrosities below or flying beasts above. Luna’s laughter thundered in his ears as her body was hurled boldy across the battlefield.

The realization hit him a fraction of a second before Nyx’s spatial distortion flared at the edge of perception, space itself bending like a clenched fist.

Luna became a projectile.

The ground vanished, replaced by sky, replaced by ground again as she was slammed forward at absurd velocity. She twisted, not to stabilize, but to optimize, and released a burst of lightning at the exact moment Nyx redirected her trajectory.

Impact.

The collision was catastrophic. Lightning detonated outward, vaporizing armor and flesh alike, the shockwave rippling through the battlefield as Luna rebounded, already accelerating again.

The chairman exhaled slowly through his nose.

He now understood why the warning existed.

But more than that...

"What on earth is going on with the powers of these youngsters...?"

Space warped again, and Luna was flung sideways, then upward, then sharply downward, each throw timed perfectly with her attacks. She was a storm-tipped spear, a living lightning bolt, a screaming blur of speed and violence.

The perspective was brutal.

Vision tunneled, snapped wide, tunneled again. Peripheral detail became suggestion rather than certainty. The sense of balance was a polite fiction that had been abandoned entirely. If the chairman hadn’t been who he was, if his mind hadn’t been trained to process combat data at absurd speeds, he would have blacked out already.

Instead, he rode it.

His jaw tightened as another spatial toss slammed Luna forward, her laughter crackling through the feed as lightning poured from her like a living corona.

"This is a fighting style I’ve never encountered before..."

And then he noticed something else.

A translucent overlay bloomed at the edge of perception.

Chat.

It scrolled aggressively, messages flying by faster than most people could read, let alone process.

- StormSimp42: LET’S GOOOOOO ⚡⚡⚡

- ILasted10Seconds: Damn it, I vomited againnnn!!

- ILasted10Seconds: I was aiming for 12 seconds this time!

- ThunderPriest: Ten seconds of bearing the weight of the thunderdome is a respectable feat, brother.

- ILasted5Seconds: Five again! Fuck! Never eat again before a Luna combat stream!

- MotionSicknessAny%: Rookie mistake, noob

The chairman’s eye twitched.

"This has gotta be a joke," he muttered.

Another spatial sling.

Luna spun, inverted, carving a glowing arc as she passed through an enemy rather than around it. Lightning detonated behind her, the world stuttering under the force, then she was violently flung again in the opposite direction, doing multiple spins while at it.

The chat lost its mind.

- BoltWorshipper: This is the most fun I’ve had in my whole life

- StormQueenOrBust: Throw us harder, Nyx!

- VolleyBALLER: This is my new sport. I feel dedicated!

The chairman watched, appalled, as a name appeared in chat, slowly, reverently highlighted by dozens of replies.

- ILasted30Seconds: Still here

The reaction was immediate.

- ALL:

- ALL: NO WAY

- ALL: KING

- ALL: Teach us your ways!

- ILasted10Seconds: I kneel

- ILasted5Seconds: He is the chosen one

The chairman rubbed his temple.

"They are drawing in quite the eccentric crowd..."

"Oh, it’s mostly the gamer girl, Luna," Grace explained with an amused grin on her lips, greatly enjoying how the president looked. "She’s quite the unhinged little thing, which resulted in her own dedicated fanbase growing into what it is today. They almost seem like a cult, just a lot more fun. Though the same is true for the rest of them... They’re all varied in their personalities, grabbing the attention of a wide range of viewer demographics."

As if on cue, Luna was launched again, this time straight upward, the sky tearing open as she broke the sound barrier. For a split second, there was nothing but blue.

Then Nyx yanked.

The drop was violent.

Luna screamed and unleashed everything she had on the way down. Lightning cascaded like a waterfall, obliterating the battlefield beneath her in a blinding flash.

The chairman felt it.

The sheer abandon of it. The joy of speed. The trust implicit in letting someone else hurl your body through space at lethal velocity and knowing you’d be caught, redirected, and used perfectly.

Another chat message scrolled by.

- ILasted30Seconds: Still here

- StormCultist: HE TRANSCENDS

- MotionSicknessAny%: MODS PIN HIM

The chairman snorted despite himself, then cut the feed.

The first-person storm vanished mid-laugh, replaced by the sterile calm of the observation chamber. Reinforced glass. Readouts. Silence. He sat there for a moment longer than necessary, fingers steepled, eyes unfocused as if his mind were still recalibrating to a reality that obeyed rules again.

"Enough of that." With a flick of intent, he opened the broader interface and began cycling through the other povs.

Bastet came first.

Heat bled through the feed even without sensory amplification. The battlefield around her was a scorched dominion, enemies crushed or reduced to ash under relentless, sun-bright pressure.

The chairman’s brow furrowed. "That level of area control at her expected level..."

Next.

Aria.

The temperature dropped.

Moonlight ruled her battlefield, cold and pristine, enemies slowed and dissected beneath layers of precise, relentless arcane geometry. Every spell landed exactly where it was meant to, overlapping fields of lunar force reinforcing one another with mechanical elegance. Authority radiated from her. The battlefield obeyed because it had never been given permission not to.

"Such precision at her level..."

Nyx followed, and space itself became negotiable.

Distances folded. Attacks missed because they were no longer aimed at anything real as Luna was flung through space.

"Spatial authority without visible anchors or casting frames..." He exhaled sharply. "Unacceptable."

Calypso was worse.

There was nothing refined about it. No elegance. No restraint.

Carnage.

She waded through enemies like a force of nature given human shape, blows tearing through defenses that should have held based on her theorized level, abilities chaining together in brutal sequences that ignored conventional cooldowns or tactical pacing. Damage fed into momentum, momentum into more damage, until the battlefield was little more than shattered ground and fleeing remnants.

It wasn’t berserker rage. It was controlled brutality, tuned for maximum devastation.

"She’s sustaining this pace, all the damage she takes..."

"Because of him," Grace smiled. "He is the one who holds them all together, their anchor, the man who made it all possible. And his ’mysterious’ helper..."

"That miniature version of the bane of my existence, teaming up with the man who is quickly turning into the male version of that woman..." The chairman looked exhausted. He was so done with the Ashborns.