He ascends through the various floors of the apartment building in what feels like the longest elevator ride of his life. His heart beats hard from a mix of fear and excitement, and he considers tuning back—some fantasies were better left unexplored. The elevator stops at the top floor, the door opens, and he walks through the dark hallway where he spots a bluish light floating in the air next to one of the apartment doors. As he cautiously approaches it, it becomes apparent that the light is a Ghost. He had only seen glimpses of them before on the live feeds of Crucible matches and SRL races, but he saw enough to know that this one is different. Its shell is like a red rose enveloping the small black sphere at its center. "Crimson Days is over. The mistress isn't seeing any more . . . clients," the Ghost said with a cold female voice. "Go home." "Wait! She sent me something." He reaches both hands into his pockets of and searches for a few seconds before pulling out a black card with a shiny violet triangle embossed on its surface. "She said I have to show this." The Ghost flies closer and shines a cone-shaped beam of light on the card as she scrutinizes its details. "I see . . . you're the poor fool she found on that Guardian--blam!-ers forum. She must be expecting you. Wait one moment." The Ghost turns to the apartment door, and with a beam of light from its eye, the automatic door opens. The Ghost suddenly vanishes from view. "Don't keep her waiting." He turns around in search of the Ghost, but he sees nothing. He walks through the door to find a room dimly lit by candles mounted on various sconces along the walls. It is quiet except for the plop of raindrops hitting the balcony beyond the sliding glass doors. He scours the room with his gaze and sees an assortment of strange artifacts. Among them is a bronze metallic machine head with a singular red eye resting on a pedestal near a couch, jagged black swords arranged in the shape of a star mounted on a wall, and tattered banners of various colors draping along the walls. He spots a wooden display stand with short knives, a golden helmet marked with the sigil of Osiris, and an angular sidearm marked with the sigil of the Reef. Prominently displayed on the stand is the skull of a great beast; it looks like something he has seen before in a documentary by the Cryptarchy. He walks towards it, and his hand slowly reaches for the skull as if being pulled by some invisible force. "They called these Ahamkara or wish-dragons. They prey on your desire," the unfamiliar voice of a woman says before his fingers can touch the bone. "These are mementos from lifetimes of battle, but combat no longer excites me." He pulls his hand away from the artifact and turns his gaze towards the source of the voice. He sees a violet-haired Awoken woman in a black lace robe slowly walking down a spiral staircase. Her high heels click against the steps with clockwork regularity as she descends. Her pale blue skin shimmers like the light of an aurora, and he could not help but stare into the glow of her yellow eyes. "Are you Mistress Asuria?" he asks. "I didn't invite you to my home to touch my trophies; you were invited here to touch . . . something else." Her dark purple lips arch with an inviting smile. She gently moves her fingers along the smooth handrails until she reaches the end of the staircase. "You're what they call a Nightstalker. Is . . . is it true that." He struggles to let out the words. "Is it true that you can help me touch the Void?" "Mortals . . . always so eager." She slowly opens her lace robe while looking into his eyes, but she disappears in an instant. The robe falls to the floor where she once stood. Before he can react to her sudden vanishing, he feels her fingers wrap around his neck, her chest pressing against his back, and her warm breath against his skin. "How did you," he starts to say, but her grip tightens. "Many things are possible through the Void. It is addictive beyond all earthly pleasures, but . . . it is heavy, dangerous, and hungry. This isn't a game, and I can't guarantee your safety." "I'm not afraid," he says as her grip loosens. She smiles in response to his lie. "Perhaps if you're good, I'll show you true ecstasy." She pulls his jacket off with her left hand while her right remains around his neck. The left hand slides down his chest and lower still to feel his growing excitement. "But I'm not convinced." "I'm ready," he says. "Beg, you filthy mortal!" She pushes him face down to the floor and rests her heel against his back. "I want to know just how much you want it, or else I might change my mind." "Please, I want to touch the Void!" he yells. "I don't believe you." "I gave you all my glimmer!" "You think I care about the glimmer? I'm a -blam!-ing Guardian. I made you pay just to see what you're willing to do to get here . . . and I don't think you had to struggle for it." "Please! I had to sell my dad's ship for it!" "Oh? That's good. That's very good." She lifts her foot from his back and approaches the sliding glass door. She opens it, walks to the balcony under the midnight rain while wearing nothing but black panties, and she turns to him. "I want to watch you crawl to me." "Yes mistress," he says with a smile as he crawls on his hands and knees to the wet balcony. He looks up at her and admires the curve of her hips. He sees her soaking wet with rain, and he watches intently as droplets of water drip from her hair and rolls down her skin. Her head overlaps the war-scarred moon, and it looks like a halo behind her head. He feels her grabbing on to his hair and forcing him to sit up under the cold rain. With one hand still gripping tightly at his hair, he watches as the other hand reaches to his right. Mistress Asuria grasps at a fixed point in space to his right and pulls purple strings of Void Light from the nothing with each finger. They produce a hum as she stretches the strings towards him and slowly wrap them around his upper body—they melt over his skin as if trying to envelop his entire being. He feels all-encompassing energy of the vacuum threaten to crush him, and a sudden sense of connection to the great transcendent beyond fills his being. In this moment of cosmic enlightenment and ecstasy, his eyes grow wide with awe as he feels himself to be simultaneously an insignificant speck in the face of the infinite, and the great infinite itself. He writhes and gasps for breath as the Void Light begins to siphon the energy of his biology, but the Guardian severs the Void strings from the anchor with a touch of her finger. The hum stops. Free of the tiny Void tethers, he falls to the cold wet floor wheezing and shivering. He struggles to maintain consciousness as he feels her turning him to his back. "Good little mortal. Tell me what you witnessed." "I . . . saw," he smiles as he speaks between quick breaths. "Beautiful . . . and terrible things." "Huh, this one's still alive." The Ghost reveals itself and floats next to the Guardian. "Do you think he'll come back?" "He has no choice. Once you've touched the Void, nothing can ever compare. He will seek me out again and again . . . until there's nothing left of him." [spoiler]I made a joke about writing a story on the NSFW applications of Nightstalkers. A friend dared me to actually write it, so obviously, I had no choice, and it's all her fault. Also partially inspired by [url=http://www.ishtar-collective.net/cards/the-nightstalkers-trail]this [/url]little bit of lore on the addictive nature of the Void. Nothing explicitly sexual happens (perhaps some euphemistic implications), so I'm hoping it's fine. If it isn't, I can edit the version I posted here.[/spoiler]