"Your sentence has already been passed."
The voice came from behind the veil of golden haze before Kaizer—soft, feminine… and utterly terrifying, as though each syllable carried the weight of judgment itself.
"You can't do this to me!" he snapped, his voice cracking under the pressure. "I did nothing wrong—"
"Your sister asked you to stop."
The words cut through him before he could finish.
"But you continued anyway… didn't you?"
Kaizer clenched his fists, anger rising faster than fear. "That's not how it was! She didn't want me to stop—she was just scared someone might come in. She panicked!" His voice sharpened, desperate, defensive. "Why am I the only one here? Why isn't she being judged, too?"
"Because your sister confessed her sins."
The answer came calmly. Indifferently.
"She has no need for punishment."
Kaizer froze—then scoffed bitterly.
"Confessed? I died!" His voice rose, strained and unstable. "How exactly was I supposed to confess, huh?"
"Your excuses are meaningless."
The golden haze rippled, as though displeased.
"I had considered making you a beggar… a man, cast into filth and hunger." The voice paused, then darkened. "But with that tongue of yours… a different fate suits you better."
A chill crept down his spine.
"You will be a woman, a weak one, easy to exploit."
"What?!" Kaizer staggered back, disbelief flooding his face. "That's your punishment? I thought you'd turn me into a lizard or something—not this!"
"You speak too much."
The air trembled violently now, the voice no longer distant but pressing against him from all directions.
"But the sentence has already been passed."
A suffocating pressure wrapped around his body.
"I curse you, Kaizer…"
The golden haze flared.
"You will awaken in the body of a mortal, there to repent your sins."
For the first time, fear truly gripped him.
"And more than that…"
The voice dropped into something vast—ancient, absolute.
"I name you the Sacred Goddess of Taboo."
His breath hitched.
"Now… perish."
The space around him shattered into motion.
The sacred limbo twisted, spiralling violently as golden currents tore through his form. Kaizer gasped—then screamed—as his body began to fragment, breaking apart into countless particles of shimmering light.
Piece by piece, sensation faded; his limbs dissolved; his voice vanished; and his very existence unravelled into drifting, glittering dust.
Until there was nothing left at all.
A pull… a weight… "existence returning.
His soul, once scattered into nothingness, began to gather—drawn into something warm, fragile… alive.
And then - Breath.
It came sharp and sudden.
He awakened.
No… she did.
The first pull of breath after a thousand years of being dead, trapped in the sacred limbo.
Her eyelids lifted to reveal warm umber eyes, fixed on the morning sun as it rose over the horizon and washed the beach beyond the window in light.
"What the..."
Her words came out in a soft, melodious tone, laced with exhaustion. She rolled onto her back, the sheets whispering against her skin, her gaze drifting from the window to the wooden ceiling above.
"Mmm…" she groaned softly, the sound gentle and worn, barely more than a breath.
"Are you awake, Kenzie?" A female voice called from outside the room she was in.
Who was that? Her mother?
No… that couldn't be right. She didn't have a mother—not anymore. She died in a car accident.
Wait… hadn't she died years ago? After he—
Her eyes widened as the thought hit her.
She bolted upright in the bed, long strands of hair falling across her face. Brushing them aside, she scanned the room, her chest tightening—it wasn't familiar. Not even close.
The space felt like a simple bedroom in a family house, modest but carefully kept. Soft morning light poured in through a wide window that faced the ocean, the distant waves glimmering under the rising sun. Thin curtains swayed gently with the breeze, carrying the faint scent of salt into the room.
A wooden dresser sat nearby, cluttered with small, ordinary things—nothing that belonged to her.
Everything about the room felt lived-in… just not by her.
On her left stood a tall, full-length mirror, its surface slightly worn but clear enough to reflect her entire figure.
And there she was—a dainty, striking girl with a slim, elegant figure that carried a quiet, effortless charm. Her hair fell to her shoulders in slightly tousled strands, giving her an unkempt, just-awoken look. Her breasts pushed softly the white blouse she wore that clung lightly to her for, lifting subtly at her chest and leaving a strip of her belly exposed.
She turned, startled, her breath catching as the figure before her mirrored every movement she made. Her eyes drifted over the reflection—down to her hips, gently outlined by the fitted shorts and the soft curve of her ass.
It was strange… soft curves, unfamiliar weight, and every movement made her hyper-aware of herself. For the first time, it truly hit her—she was really a woman.
She scoffed. "That damn, witch!"
The door to her room flew open, and a woman in an orange dress stood in the doorway.
"Kenzie, what's the hell are you doing in here? We're all leaving soon." she said.
"Huh."
Was that her name? Of course it was—but not in any real sense, not when she had no idea who she was speaking to.
"I mean, I've -" She stammered. "Where are you leaving to?"
The woman stared at her for a second or two and then chuckled.
"Are you still asleep?" she snapped. "Get your ass out here. Now." The door slammed, her footsteps already fading down the hall.
Of course, she has an ass now.
A big one, she could tell, and now she'll be expecting whistles of her admirers because even herself couldn't think her way out of her own ass more than fucking it.
If being stripped of her gender wasn't enough, and then her sex! She would've been more thankful if that primordial goddess who cursed her could've given an ugly face to keep the attention low.
She slammed the door, her footsteps echoing away.
Finally, the new surge of awareness awakened her, and that woman wasn't known to her as her mother or anyone she is bonded to by blood. But a good samaritan who picked her from the streets years ago and decided to raise her up.
"Aunt Sasha!" She gasped.
She recalled from last night that today, they were going to a wedding of one of her daughters, Christina, who was about to be married to some rich tycoon from the city.
But in all of that, she was being left behind to watch over the house. That's been her main role for a long time now; a house maid to Sasha's little household in Sanatoria suburbs.
She opened the door as a good amount of memories were flowing in her mind right now. Everything she must know but wasn't necessary, her memories particularly.
The living room came to life as she stepped in.
"Guess who decided to show up after hours of being dead or alive." Said a girl in a blue dress, holding a teacup close to her mouth, eyeing her maliciously.
It was Stacey, Aunt Sasha's youngest daughter. As far as Kenzie was concerned, Stacey hated her—not for being a child picked from the street, but for her beauty.
Then there was Melinda, the spitfire. She was sitting on the couch in her pyjamas and barked a command the moment she saw Kenzie walking in.
"Grab me some of those, Kenzie!" she pointed at the doughnut tower, her attention completely immersed to her phone.
Kenzie rolled her eyes but moved quickly. She grabbed three donuts, careful not to topple the stack, and handed them to her.
Melinda snatched them like a hawk, took a bite, and didn't even thank her.
"And can you get me some sauce from the fridge, dear?" Aunt Shasha ordered.
Kenzie quickly retrieved a bottle and handed it to her. She took it without looking, spreading the sauce over her sausages.
But someone was missing.
Rebecca wasn't around. She might have been the only person in the household who made life a bit livable—maybe because she wasn't really a daughter, just a cousin to Sasha's child.
"We won't be back until next month or more," said Aunt Sasha.
"Where's Rebecca?" Asked Kenzie.
"Asking for her favourite again." Stacey smirked at her.
She waved away her provocative words.
"Stacey has left early to watch over Christina's preparation. She'd accompany our little bride today." Said her aunt cleaning her mouth with a napkins after finishing her sausage.
And of course, Christina, Kenzie never actually knew Christina because she is always away from Sanatoria. So she couldn't tell more of her.
Kenzie nodded as her usual responses.
"You need to watch over the house. Keep it clean until we are back," continued Aunt Sasha.
"Careful not to throw in a party, because we're gonna eat you alive," said Stacey harshly, but how much is she used to her words that it felt like a clown was making her statement.
And suddenly, there's a knock at the door.
"What are you waiting for? Go and open the door for her." Snapped Aunt Sasha abruptly.
"Go get the door, maid." Stacey added.
Her mother scowled at her, but she completely ignored her. "What's her apart from being just a simple maid."
Kenzie moved toward the door and opened it—and a sudden surge, unlike anything she had ever felt, swept through her. The woman standing there radiated something forbidden, something Kenzie seemed to absorb directly into herself.
"Hi, Kenzie!"
It was Monica, alright—her ever-present smile and that curvaceous body weren't new to Kenzie. But that wasn't what startled her. There was something else, something too corrupt to be termed as desire, yet somehow divine in a subtle way. Kenzie found herself drawn toward a forbidden path, like an aura that only her could savour, knowing deep down it didn't feel right.
But that was the beauty of it.