Pervert In Stone Age: Breaking Cavewomen with Modern Kinks Chapter 285: Making Angela Immortal

My eyes remained fixed on Angela, my voice slicing through the heavy stillness of the control room with a chilling, absolute authority. "Gather all the men soldiers inside the fortress," I ordered, my tone making it clear that no debate would be tolerated.

"Establish a secure perimeter along the walls. Ensure no one enters or exits without my direct permission." My fingertips skimmed the console's edge as my mind rapidly organized the logistics of the plan.

"Take every single man within these walls—without exception—and move them outside the perimeter. They are to set up camp in the wilderness. Only women are permitted to stay inside." My voice sank into a dark, velvety growl. "And I shall be the only man remaining here."

Angela’s breath hitched in her throat, her eyes widening as shock and exhilaration warred within her. "You’re—you’re serious—?" she stammered, but I cut her off with a sharp look.

"Assemble all the women soldiers," I went on, my voice as cold as a blade. "They will be responsible for your protection. If anyone dares to disagree—if anyone dares to protest—" My hand tightened into a fist, knuckles grinding against the console. "Kill them."

Angela’s lips parted, her chest heaving as she took a sharp breath. "You’re really doing this," she whispered, her voice heavy with awe. "You’re making this place... ours."

I offered no verbal reply. Instead, I hauled her closer, my hands firmly gripping her waist as I pulled her body against mine. "I have a gift for you," I murmured, my voice low and intimate.

Before she could find words, I cupped her face and kissed her—a deep, possessive claim that left her breathless. The Nexus ability began to hum beneath my skin, and I directed the power into her, letting it surge through her veins like liquid fire.

When I finally pulled back, Angela’s eyes were blown wide, her lips swollen from the intensity of the kiss as she gasped for air. "From this moment on," I said, my thumb tracing her bottom lip, "you’re immortal. Just like me." My voice carried the weight of a dark promise. "You’ll rule this world by my side."

Angela’s hands flew to her chest, her voice shaking. "W-What? Immortal?"

I exhaled a slow, controlled breath, my fingers tightening around the fabric of the t-shirt—the Magical Tool vibrating faintly against my palm.

With a mere surge of focused intent, the fibers started to shift, dissolving like a mist before restructuring into a far more lethal form: a dagger with an edge honed to razor-like precision.

The blade shimmered under the flickering lights, cold and merciless, casting jagged reflections across Angela’s face. She stared at the weapon with wide eyes, as if watching a serpent coiled and ready to strike.

For a heartbeat, I hesitated—not out of fear, but out of pure anticipation. Then, with deliberate intent, I withdrew my hold on Eternal Vitality, the power that reinforced my body far beyond human limits. The familiar tide of strength receded, leaving me as vulnerable as any ordinary mortal. My muscles relaxed and my senses dulled just enough to remind me of what it felt like to be fragile. To be able to bleed.

Angela remained motionless. She didn't even blink. She stood there frozen, her breath trapped in her lungs, as I lifted the dagger. The tip hovered over the sensitive pulse point at my wrist, where the skin suddenly seemed too thin and exposed. Then, with slow and steady pressure, I drove the blade into my own flesh.

Pain erupted—sharp and white-hot—coursing up my arm like a lightning strike. I did not flinch or pull away. Blood welled up immediately, a dark, shimmering bead forming at the edge of the cut, followed quickly by another.

Soon, a narrow crimson stream began to wind its way down my forearm, each drop hitting the floor with a soft, wet thud that echoed through the heavy silence. The sound felt unnervingly loud, each splash acting as a punctuation mark in the scene unfolding before Angela’s terrified eyes.

Angela’s gasp broke the silence. "What the hell are you—?!" She rushed forward, her hands hovering near the wound as if she could force it to close. "You’re bleeding! Stop it—stop it right now!" Her voice cracked with raw panic, but then—the words died in her throat.

The wound was closing. Right before her eyes, the torn flesh began to knit itself back together, the jagged edges smoothing out until only a few stray drops of blood remained, shining like rubies on my skin. The dagger hit the ground with a clatter, forgotten.

I turned my wrist to show her the flawless skin. "You are like me now," I murmured, my voice low and intimate. "Unkillable. Immortal."

Angela stumbled back, her chest rising and falling with shallow, frantic breaths. Her fingers shook as she reached out—not toward me, but toward the air between us, as if she were testing the reality of what she had witnessed.

"It... it doesn’t hurt you," she whispered, speaking more to herself than me. "You didn’t just give me some half-measure. You made me like you. Directly." Her eyes locked onto mine, wild with disbelief. "Why?"

I didn't answer immediately. Instead, I closed the gap between us, cupping her cheek in my hand. Her skin felt warm and alive in a way that transcended simple biology. "Because you are special," I said, my thumb grazing her cheekbone.

"Because the world is brutal to people like us—those who don’t fit in, who refuse to be broken. Because I wanted you to possess what I have. Not just the time, Angela. The freedom." My voice sank to a whisper.

For a moment, she simply stared. Then, without warning, she lunged into me, her arms locking around my neck as she practically collapsed into my lap.

I caught her with ease, wrapping my arms around her while she buried her face against my shoulder. Her body trembled—not with tears, but with a profound emotion that had no name. Relief, fear, gratitude, and awe were all there, pressed between us like a contained storm.

"I don’t know what to say," she choked out, her voice muffled by my shirt. "I don’t know how to—how to even—"

I squeezed her tighter. "You don't need to say anything."

And for the first time in a very long time, I allowed myself to believe that perhaps—just perhaps—I wasn't alone anymore.

Angela’s arms remained wrapped around me, her body shaking as she pressed closer, her breath hot against my skin. "Dexter..." she whispered, her voice thick with feeling.

I held her firmly, my fingers digging into her. "You take charge of the fortress," I said, my tone leaving no room for dissent.

"I am going to bring your daughters back." My lips curled into a smirk. "And there are many women in my tribe. I will bring them all here." My voice dropped to a low growl. "From this day forward... we shall call this the Overlord Empire."

Angela pulled back just enough to look me in the eye, her gaze burning with a fierce resolve. "The Overlord Empire," she echoed, her voice sounding like a dark promise. "And we shall rule it... together."

I smirked, giving her ass a squeeze before I stood up, lifting her with me. "Together," I agreed, my voice sharp as a blade. "Now go. Begin the purge."

With that, I turned and walked away, leaving Angela standing there—immortal, powerful, and mine—as the first seeds of the Overlord Empire began to take root.