Kei awoke to a familiar feeling of dread, suffocation, and lavender-scented laziness.
Nebu was draped over him like a human blanket burrito—again. Her arms looped around his chest, one leg casually tossed over his, and her cheek pressed to his shoulder like she had claimed squatter's rights.
"Nebu," Kei groaned, "I need to get up."
She didn't move. "Why fight fate?"
"I have a meeting."
"Fate says nap."
He peeled her off with the urgency of someone late to a court summons. "Mav's gonna kill me."
"Then I'll inherit your pillow," she muttered, face still smushed into the sheets.
Kei sprinted into the living room—only to find himself stepping into Mavira's War Room.
Floating charts. Glowing budget circles. A whiteboard titled:
"Kei's Financial Crimes Against Humanity."
Mav, dressed in gold-trimmed black businesswear, was tapping a pen against her tablet like a disappointed goddess of debt.
"You're eight minutes late."
"I was... trapped under a demon."
She narrowed her eyes. "Sloth?"
Kei gave a sheepish nod.
Just then, Nebu wandered in behind him, barefoot, blanket still wrapped like royalty. "Morning," she said, yawning. "Or whatever."
Mav's smile was a perfect, golden threat. "Well. Look who rolled in like a tax refund from hell."
"Nice graphs," Nebu said, plopping onto the couch. "Compensating for something?"
Mav turned slowly. "Excuse me?"
Kei instinctively dove for cover behind a beanbag.
Nebu sipped lazily from a mug that read Do Less. "All these spreadsheets. Trying to make reality bend to your little numbers. Must be exhausting."
Mav crossed her arms. "Unlike you, I believe in results. You know—contribution, stability, paying rent on time."
"I contribute," Nebu said, stretching out. "I lower the blood pressure of the house."
"You are the blood pressure!"
The air shimmered.
Mav's golden aura flared, coins spinning around her like tiny, furious moons. Her voice dropped. "You leech off effort. You're a glorified sleep paralysis demon with a Pinterest account."
Nebu blinked slowly, her eyes glowing soft blue. "Better than being a walking Excel sheet with delusions of empire."
The room trembled. Kei backed away, holding a pillow like it was body armor. "Can we not have a magical demon fight before breakfast?!"
Too late.
Mav raised her hand, and a glowing credit card flashed to life, its edges sharp and dangerous. "Let me teach you compound interest—in pain."
Nebu didn't flinch. She rolled off the couch midair and hovered in a lazy spiral, her blanket morphing into a cosmic nebula of stars and sleep dust. "Bring it, Shark Tank Barbie."
Mav lunged, throwing a disk of spinning golden coins. Nebu deflected it with a yawn, her aura rippling outward like gravity had been turned off.
A chair levitated and floated sideways.
Paperwork exploded.
The coffee table disintegrated into a swirl of tax documents and throw pillows.
Then—
"Ladies."
The temperature in the room shifted as Vel stepped in.
Vel—barefoot, radiant, lips painted sin-red—moved with the kind of sultry grace that made time hesitate. She strolled past the chaos, completely unaffected, and trailed a finger along Kei's shoulder as she passed.
"Mmm. Tension," she purred, sipping from Kei's untouched coffee. "Hot."
Nebu floated upside down. "Mav started it."
"I finished it," Mav snapped.
Vel leaned down between them, lips curved in a wicked smile. "You two really should consider couples therapy. Or just a pillow fight. I'll watch."
Mav glared and Hebu said in unicon"We are not a couple."
Vel winked. "Not yet."
Kei, from behind the remains of the coffee table, raised a shaky hand. "Can I go back to bed?"
"No," the three demons said in perfect, terrifying unison.