Akihabara Sleepless City / Grand SugarCity
Welcome to Akihabara Sleepless City a/k/a Akiba
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Luxury Hotel in Akihabara
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Luxury Hotel in Akihabara
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*He chuckles as he looks at his beautiful wifey.* No need to worry we can be fashionably late.
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*A mixed group of family and friends headed over to the famous Luxury Hotel at Akiba. They would celebrate mother’s day there and then move the party around town as they went along.* HAPPY MOTHER’s DAY! *loud cheers would be heard in unison from the rooftop.*
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The neon haze of Akihabara never slept. Its glow pulsed in rhythm with the heart of the sleepless city, alive with sound, color, and the scent of food carts and possibility. Noloty walked with calm purpose through the metropolitan buzz, boots clicking softly against the sleek sidewalk. But it wasn’t her that drew attention.
It was her mother.
Queen Hild moved beside her like she owned the very stars that glittered above the skyline. Wearing a tight black mini dress and ankle booties that only amplified her impossibly long legs, she turned the city into her runway. Loose white waves framed her face, accented with two intricate braids that shimmered beneath passing light. The effect was… devastating. Heads turned. Conversations paused mid-sentence. One couple physically stopped walking just to stare. Men gawked. Women blinked, some smirking, others instantly jealous. Noloty caught one poor soul walk face-first into a streetlamp.
She exhaled a quiet laugh through her nose.
“She hasn’t changed,” Noloty muttered to herself, tucking a loose strand of her ponytail behind her ear. In contrast, Noloty’s own outfit was simple but striking—a dark halter top, ripped jeans, and worn booties. Practical, but fitted. Confident. She didn’t need to compete. She wasn’t here for approval.
“Stop pretending you don’t enjoy the stares,” Hild said without looking at her, a sly smile curling her lips.
Noloty rolled her eyes. “I don’t enjoy having to escort you around like your personal bouncer.”
“Darling,” Hild purred, looping her arm into Noloty’s. “You brought me to a city made of light and temptation. I’m simply playing the part.”
They reached the towering glass structure of the luxury hotel, its golden-lit lobby aglow with elegance. Noloty guided them inside, her expression composed, but she kept a subtle eye on her mother, reading her aura like a radar on high alert. So far, Hild was keeping it together. No manipulation. No chaos. Just… presence.
When the elevator doors slid open, Noloty leaned back against the mirrored wall, watching her mother in the soft light.
“Don’t mistake this for trust,” she said calmly. “It’s just… a first step.”
Hild tilted her head, those blue eyes softer than Noloty remembered. “Then I’ll make sure I don’t trip.”
Noloty said nothing. She didn’t need to. The city thrummed around them, and for once, they moved through it not as enemies or adversaries—but as something not yet broken.
Something like… family. @QueenHild
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There was a certain rhythm to Akihabara’s chaos that Hild found… delightful. A kind of choreographed frenzy where neon lights bled into the night sky and the pulse of mortal life surged like a symphony of vanity and hunger. She walked through it like a storm in heels—deliberate, unapologetic, and lethal.
Yes, she saw the looks. She always saw the looks.
A man had nearly dropped his drink. Another twisted his neck so sharply she half expected a chiropractor to pop out of a vending machine. One bold woman bit her lower lip and made no effort to hide her admiration. Hild didn’t need magic to be worshiped—it came naturally.
But what truly made her smirk was Noloty.
Her daughter walked beside her like a flame refusing to be outshined. Casual. Unbothered. That halter top and ripped jeans combo wasn’t exactly “royal wear,” but the way Noloty carried herself turned it into something damn near regal. Even with her hair pulled back, there was an elegance to her stride that no mortal could imitate.
That’s my girl.
When they reached the hotel, Hild’s expression faltered—just briefly. Her gaze flicked up the building’s polished exterior, then to the distance, where she imagined the warmth of her granddaughters’ presence. She sighed inwardly. She wasn’t foolish enough to think this night ended with a cozy family reunion. No—this was trial mode. She was under observation. Monitored. Contained.
Still, she nodded. Played along. Adapt or lose it all.
And then the elevator doors opened.
Hild’s brow lifted the moment she stepped into the penthouse suite. Floor-to-ceiling windows. Crystal lighting fixtures. Velvet cushions and marble counters. The skyline sprawled like a crown laid bare just for her. She slowly turned to Noloty, lips twitching upward.
“You reserved the penthouse,” she purred, draping herself over the plush sofa like it was a throne. “You do know my tastes.”
Noloty didn’t respond with a smirk or an eye roll. She just sat beside her, calm as ever, as if this were any other Tuesday.
And for a rare moment… Hild was content.
They sat in a quiet rhythm, wine glasses untouched on the table. Conversation flowed, sometimes with sharp jabs, sometimes with long pauses, but it flowed. About the city. About fashion. About old gods and politics. Nothing too personal—nothing too dangerous.
Yet even in the mundane, something had shifted.
Her daughter didn’t see her as a threat tonight. She wasn’t treated like a monster or a ticking time bomb. She was… company. Maybe even family.
Hild looked toward the skyline, swirling her wine glass idly, then muttered softly, “I’m not used to being tolerated, let alone hosted.”
Noloty glanced at her, brows arched slightly. “Don’t get comfortable.”
Hild laughed—low, warm, and entirely genuine.
“Too late, darling. I already am.”
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Above the City, Between Dimensions
The skyline glittered like shattered stardust.
From the floor-to-ceiling windows of her grand penthouse, Queen Hild stood with a crystal goblet of wine in hand, its contents the color of dark rubies—rich, ancient, and undoubtedly expensive. The city below hummed in ignorant peace, completely unaware that the very fabric of dimensions was rippling with tension.
She sipped.
Slowly. Luxuriously.
And smiled.
Oh, she felt it—the subtle fractures in the realms, the divine reverberations echoing through reality. The Concordance of Blessings, she would’ve called it in another era. The Almighty was at work. She could sense His holy fingerprints brushing across the threads of Helena’s bloodline. Power swelling. Shields rising. A heavenly choir of reassurances draped across Terra.
How precious.
Another sip. This one lingered on her tongue.
She laughed softly, a melodic sound laced with something older, darker.
“Such divine theatrics…”
The thought crossed her mind—a tempting one. To aid Satan. To tip the scale just enough to throw the mortals into chaos. Oh, how glorious it would be to reignite terror across their fragile little cities. To unleash ancient horrors through his hand, then sit back and sip from her chalice as the world screamed.
Her grin widened, a spark of wicked glee in her crimson gaze.
But then…
Her mind shifted.
Zarina. Solana.
Her granddaughters.
The softness of their eyes. The fire in their voices. The unpredictable way they had made her feel something she had spent eons burying.
Connected.
And then, Noloty. Her daughter. Her opposite. Her tether. The one she had once tried to steal away from the world, and now… was trying to understand.
She walked slowly toward the glass, the glow of the city wrapping around her figure like a throne of light and shadow. Her silhouette radiated regal power and ancient danger—but her eyes, for once, held restraint.
“No… not this time.”
Her fingers traced the rim of her wineglass.
“Satan can claw at the heavens without me. He’s powerful enough. Foolish enough, too.”
She raised her glass, as though toasting the chaos she chose to ignore.
“I’m not here to hunt Helena… or help her disappear.”
She turned, the hem of her gown whispering across marble floors as she walked back toward her velvet settee.
“I’m here for them. For my blood. My legacy.”
Zarina’s laughter echoed in her memory. Solana’s gaze—intelligent and defiant—lingered behind her eyelids. Hild closed her eyes for a brief moment, allowing herself to feel something dangerously close to sentiment.
One day… maybe. One day she might unleash hell again.
But not today.
Today, she would sip her wine.
Watch the world turn.
And choose family over fire.
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The sky was painted in a soft blend of amber and rose, casting a warm glow across the sprawling city below. From the floor-to-ceiling windows of her penthouse suite, Queen Hild stood like a vision carved from starlight and danger. The glass in her hand was no ordinary vessel—it was an intricately wrought goblet, dark and gleaming, with celestial etchings that shimmered when tilted just right.
The wine within was older than most kingdoms. Deep. Rich. Bloody.
She swirled it lazily, her long white hair cascading like moonlight down her back, the faint glint of her red demonic star-markings catching the window’s reflection. Her gaze, though cast outward, was elsewhere—sharp, focused. Not on the skyline.
But on the shift in the air.
She felt him.
That unmistakable divine echo. Clean. Measured. Overbearingly paternal.
“Hmm,” she mused aloud, her voice velvet with a blade’s edge. “So… he does care enough to manifest.”
The smirk that played on her lips wasn’t warm. It was amused. Almost mocking.
She brought the goblet to her lips, sipping slowly, savoring the flavor as her eyes narrowed with piercing elegance.
“Grandfather mode activated,” she muttered with a hint of sarcasm, the term tasting as foreign on her tongue as the humility it implied. “How quaint.”
He was nearby. She didn’t need to see him to know. His aura was always… unapologetically radiant. It buzzed like an over-polished blade in her otherwise perfect frequency.
It wasn’t fear that stirred in her chest—Hild had long since conquered such things. It was curiosity.
She turned from the window, long robes whispering against the marble floor as she walked with the kind of grace only born of power and millennia. Her suite was a sanctuary of decadence—plush silks, dark woods, and flickering candles dancing to music only she could hear.
“Here to watch me, are you?” she said aloud, though to no one present. “As if I’d waste my time poisoning the pastries.”
She paused, finishing her wine.
“No… you’re here for them.”
The goblet floated from her hand and hovered midair before settling on its stand.
“Such devotion,” she purred. “Almost endearing.”
And yet, something beneath her voice hinted at tension. Not resentment—but awareness. He hadn’t come to greet her. Not directly. He had chosen the human streets, the bakery… the girls.
That stung more than she cared to admit.
With a flick of her wrist, the curtains pulled shut, shadows embracing the room once more.
Queen Hild was many things. But surprised? Never.
If He thought He could watch quietly from afar…
She would make certain He felt seen.
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