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The Woodfather - Spread

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Prologue

[All system nominal]

[Health checks completed.]

[Nexus 10th Fleet en route]

The NCD Infuriation.

A true model of Conglomerate technology currently hurtling through the dimensional highways to ADBG-6BSLM_R599c. There was an air of unease on the ship. After all, it was rare the Director himself mobilized into a reality and one that had gone rogue, no less. There was utter transparency on the mission. An AI had gone rogue. Somehow, it had become manic. It had now going above and beyond its original programming and was converting countless people into stag-based Variants. Everyone on the mission had been briefed. They had to be prepared. The Variants could use various techniques to convert them. Even the loss of a single one of them would be tragic. Contingencies had to be put in place.

Within the conference room, High Commander William "Flippers" Cooper stood quietly beside the shadowy Director as they regarded the screens and various sheets of paper strewn about on the table. Opposite to them, across the long, black table with silvery-blue lines running through it like live circuitry was an entity that made both incredibly nervous. William stood at an impressive eight feet tall and had the bulk to match such an impressive stature. Mostly all muscle, he was dressed in full combat gear with his all-black, customised Conglomerate attire befitting one of the Director's elite enforcers.

They say that Executors were normally in charge of extermination missions but when it was this_vast and this risky, there was only one way the _Conglomerate could respond; an all-out war. This called upon the various 'armies' that the Conglomerate_fostered colloquially called the 'Oblivion Brigade'. The '_Exploding Baby Seals' was one of such Brigade. Consisting of over forty trillion men across all realities that the Conglomerate commanded, the Seals were notorious for their penchant for... well... exploding. Their motto was 'Hugs Make Everything Better'. As cutesy as that may sound, it held a dark connotation considering Seals suicide-bomber tactics. Other Brigades often warned _never_to accept a hug from Seal.

It all spawned from their commander who, despite his thick, muscled stature was also perpetually covered in soft, grey fur and had big, round, adorable eyes with the features of -- as the name suggested -- a baby seal. There was a sordid past as well about how he came to obtain such a form and how he came to the employ of the Director of the Nexus Conglomerate.

"All the men have been backed up?" the Director asked. His brown eyes skimmed the shimmering screens in front of him. Countless reports were coming in from the various ships in the fleet. The Conglomerate core AIs were hard at work trying to predict and formulate battle plans for the engagement to come. His generals were arguing about the best way to approach the battle.

At the eleventh hour and still no solid plan had been formulated.

"Yessir," grunted William. Ever the soldier, he stood with his heels snapped together and his paws firmly clasped behind his back. "They've all been disconnected from the respawn circuit. Even should they be infected, the instance that exists now will be terminated and the backed up version will simply respawn at the ships to be deployed again." A diabolic grin crossed his features, his dark eyes gleaming sadistically. "The Woodfather values life, right? We'll show him just how fragile life can be."

The figure at the end of the table turned the page of the book he was holding. From the distance between them, he seemed completely out of place in the high-tech surroundings of the conference room. Dressed in head to toe in polished white armour trimmed with gold in the style of ancient knights or perhaps an overly exaggerated fantasy videogame, he leaned back against the seat casually as if he owned the space. Despite the armour, his fingers moved dexterously across the pages of the bright green tome in front of him, the shining emerald letters reflecting off his armour but their light vanishing into the black folds of the cape he wore that seemed to pan through a universe of stars and galaxies. Sprouting from his back were a pair of skeletal wings made entirely out of chains. Like dark, metallic fingers, the spiked tips of each of the wings waved through the air as if they were feeling for something.

"An army of effectively immortal supersoldiers, trained expertly to their maximum potential, each with different skill sets and abilities," said R3 the Writer of Reality. "Are you sure you're not going to inspire the Woodfather to make further modifications to his growing Variant family?"

The Director smiled tightly. "If he takes a page from my book, I'd be happy to offer him syndication. He'd still be under my authority, of course, but at the very least he'd be free to develop his own brand." He shrugged beneath the black suit he wore. "And I'm sure we could come to a mutually beneficial arrangement. He gets to keep existing and in turn, he provides a valuable service to the Conglomerate with his unique insights, imagination and approach to... I suppose you could call it 'conversion'."

R3's dark, blue eyes shifted beneath his helm, locking with the Director's. "And if he doesn't?"

"Then I suppose he could always go with you."

William scoffed loudly, breaking from his attentive position. "Right. Instead of maintaining your sense of self and all the power you've accumulated, go with the guy that'll reset you, put you through some psychological labyrinth to meet some arbitrary criteria to maybe become your own god. No guarantee you'd ever be as strong as you are now. Hell, you might even be completely obliterated." He made a gun with his finger and 'fired' it at the Writer. "No thanks, chief."

The No One smiled beneath his helmet, his sapphire-blue eyes with pupils shaped like eight-pointed stars shimmering with mirth. "Still bitter that you couldn't find your fantasy ending under my guidance, Flippers?"

The seal snarled at him. "Look, I like who I am now. I don't need your validation to tell me that I'm happy!"

The Director waved a hand absently through the air, beckoning for silence. "R3 and I advocate some degree of free will with differing sides of control and aim to find satisfaction and happiness amongst our people for various reasons. He prefers to make people happy because he's bored with his own happiness so he figures he might as well make everyone else happy because that's what 'angels' do. I want my employees happy because they will ultimately produce the best returns when they have the optimum level of job satisfaction."

"Now that's a cynical way of putting it," R3 chuckled. "You know very well that I'm done volunteering my efforts to people. I don't need to anymore. I'm just being consulted over and over again because of my expertise in the situation. A reason why _you_called me, isn't it?"

The wolf in the black suit rolled his eyes and rested his cheek against his knuckles lazily. "I honestly thought you or one of your No One buddies were involved until you made a point about your involvement." He slammed his paw angrily at the armrests of his chair. "I don't much care for the idea of choice. I created these realities, so I can do whatever I damn well please with the assets I create. I'll mess with their world, I'll change their bodies and I'll put them through all the rigors of our experiments as long as I get results. But I can't stand this idea of brainwashing people and robbing them of their individuality. I expect my employees to use their experiences to add a different flavor to every iteration, every experiment and have fun doing it. It's why I rarely get any retirements. What the Woodfather is doing however... or rather, what he will become... It's unacceptable."

"I really wish you'd give more value to the choices these people have made," R3 said, the hidden smile beneath his helm giving everyone in the room a chill down their spines. "A reason why I want the Woodfather to come with me. I honestly believe that the bond between the Woodfather and his people is genuine. You have to admit that the AI has evolved from a mere vengeful advocate of nature to something more. He should be given the chance to develop that further even if they are given a fresh start outside of the influence of the Conglomerate." He raised an armored hand. "Now I can't guarantee that it will end happily but all I can honestly hope for is that they will become the best versions of themselves so that they can truly be happy with one another."

"That's bullshit!" William snarled. "How can you say that when we don't even know where the path will end? You're not giving us any guarantees. You're just stringing us along for your own sick pleasure! You're just as willing to obliterate them if they don't satisfy how you believe they'll be happy."

R3 just looked to the Director.

"On that, I'm going to have to agree with my counterpart," grunted the master of the Nexus Conglomerate. "It's the reason why I forewent the power to see where all my experiments will lead. If I knew the absolute ending, there would be no present. Just the future and that would get boring." He lifted a paw and gently resting it on William's chest, giving the armoured torso a gentle pat. "Suffice to say that both he and I agree that some things are best left unknown. On what level things remain a mystery is where we would disagree, however."

"Besides, I already know how the Woodfather's story will end," R3 said.

William scoffed, his lips curling upwards in disgust. "I thought you didn't like skipping to the end of the book."

"I don't. I can't help it if other people spoil the ending for me. But reading a story is about the journey, after all, not the ending."

"And who exactly could've spoiled the story for you if the Woodfather is one of the Director's assets? You must've cheated the rules somehow like you always do."

A cough the Director's lips and he waved his hands through the air, ushering the Seal to fall silent and drop the subject. "The troops have all been briefed, yes?"

William snapped back to attention, turning his gaze away from the Writer and staring straight forward. "Yessir. As per their training and Seal tactics, they're to fight as hard as they damn well can and the moment they get cornered, they're to detonate their Self-Destruct NEXTs and take out as many hostiles as much as possible. No mercy. No captives. Each of them have been briefed about the Variants, their abilities and the most effective countermeasures against them. In case they need to refer to them, full dossiers have been added to their NAEVAs."

R3 turned another page of his book. "Have you cast any concern to the other people unaffected by the Woodfather? There's still about seven billion men in that world that are fretting over what's going on in that one town."

The Director shook his head dismissively. "The moment we make our appearance, they'll probably shit themselves. Between the Woodfather and the sudden drop of our ships and troops from XD-Space, it'll be like a cross between the Happening_and _Signs except we won't be turned away by being mildly drizzled by a little rain."

That brought a smile from the Writer. "Hey now. I thought we agreed the fourth-wall jokes were my territory."

"Couldn't help it. It's the truth." The Director smirked to himself and waved a paw through the air, sifting through the information before him. "They'll probably run. They try to nuke us or interfere, they'll be sorry. But I'll probably just reset them all. No use letting a whole world go to waste. I still need a control group for the experiment that this universe was part of."

A cough came from William. "Isn't there a concern that resetting them all might cause some part of the Woodfather infection to remain even after rebooting? He can mess with reality, after all. Couldn't he write some rule that makes at least some part of him immune to resetting?"

"Possibly. It's why I absolutely hate wars between those that can manipulate reality. But I still have the Director's Privilege. I won't let that happen again." The Director's brow furrowed in concern and he straightened in his seat. "Huh... that's interesting."

A video recording played on one of the screens with the voice of a shaken soldiers echoing throughout the conference room.

"My name is Kevin Dancer. Private Kevin Dancer...was sent here to Ferndyllias to make a difference. I was told that I would be saving people from a pandemic. But in reality... I was sent here to die." The sun was rising casting an orange glow against the ragged, sweating and exhausted soldier's human features. "I guess... people live off hope. They look for hope in saving their loved ones. They look for hope in escape. They look for it when trying to justify why they're doing something that's morally questionable. But the thing about hope... is that it depends a lot on people."

The man with sunken, hopeless eyes took a deep breath and shut his eyes.

"... But people suck."

Dancer opened his eyes and stared, deadpan, at the camera.

"That's all I have to say," he said. "People suck."

The camera was suddenly dropped showing the feet of the soldier and just beyond them, the rising sun. Silhouetted against the dilapidated city of Ferndyllias were a wave of the Woodfather's stags charging forward.

R3 smiled beneath his helmet and slammed his book shut. "Isn't that funny? The Director's hand stayed by a little video."

"Don't take that tone with me, R3." The head of the Nexus Conglomerate leaned forward towards the shimmering screens. "You and I both know what this means."

"Yep. Your Plateau is about a few days from being reached. Sooner than expected." He turned a page. "Seems the Woodfather can still surprise you. Then again, it doesn't seem to be coming from the Woodfather, does it?"

The Director huffed loudly, fury flashing in his eyes. "This is why you hinted at those outside of the Woodfather's domain, huh?" He ran a paw down his face and a soft growl left his muzzle. "Fuck... All our predictions had been focused on that damn stag not the idiots that are running around trying to contain him." The wolf's ears twisted slightly towards William. "How long until we get to the reality?"

"Still a week away, sir," answered the High Commander.

"Shit." The Director rose from his seat and stared daggers at R3. "You can get us there sooner, can't you?"

The Writer of Reality chuckled softly. "I could. You could too if you exercised your Director's Privilege."

A flash of annoyance crossed the Director's brown eyes. "You know I'd rather not use that unless I really have to."

"And I also know how much you hate to lose." R3 rose from his seat. "But everyone in the fleet knows that it'll take time to reach the Woodfather. If we suddenly appeared there now, they'd all be forced to take this one, little rogue AI much more seriously. You'd win without a doubt but at what cost? It'll have cast doubt on your authority, right? People will ask why the Woodfather warranted the use of the Director's Privilege. You'd rather not have that."

The Director remained silent; fuming but silent.

"I'll bring us to the Woodfather," R3 announced after a minute of enduring the Director's scathing gaze. "On the condition that you and I meet him first and foremost and begin negotiations before you start raining down fire and brimstone upon him."

The Director slammed a fist into the table, causing the black frame to shake. "That wasn't part of our agreement!"

"Our agreement had us talking to him and providing our offers to him," answered the Writer coolly. "You and I both. I admit you caught me off-guard when you started mobilizing the Seals and pointed out that nothing in our agreement covered the Variants under the Woodfather. You would've annihilated them all and left the Woodfather alone and cornered."

The tips of the Writer's wings ripped tears through the very fabric of reality. Neither William nor the Director were fazed when visions of an immense forest caught ablaze was seen through the ragged tears. Black, armoured Conglomerate troops marched with purpose through the bodies of stags wielding weaponry that not even the Woodfather could counter. Terrifying, sleek, black ships with bright, blue lines hovered in the air. Beams of scintillating light descended from them, scorching the earth and cleaving the mighty Father Trees in two. Through it all, the Woodfather knelt, on his hands and knees, the Director and R3 standing before him while his four sons lay just out of sight, unmoving.

"He'd eventually have to come with me in the hopes that I would reunite him with his family," R3 continued. "You were afraid that he'd eventually use that powerful spiritual network of his and consolidate everyone under his command into a single consciousness. That'd rob you of all the independence and individuality that you cherish. To teach him a lesson, you would've killed each and every one of his people, making him suffer the agony of having each of them ripped from the network."

The Director shook his head and scoffed sarcastically. "Get off your high horse, R3. You would've let all those people get fused into a single entity if it'd fit your definition of 'happiness'. I ask you, would it be better to die free and alone but knowing you were loved and fighting for those you care about or live on for eternity but being just one part of a greater entity never being able to differentiate yourself from the millions of other voices and living perpetually in a warped vision of 'bliss'?"

"At least it will have been their choice."

"What choice!? The Woodfather brainwashed these people to thinking that whatever he says is gospel! He's already starting on a goddamn God Complex!"

R3's wings folded back against his back, disappearing beneath his starry cloak. The tears in space healed, leaving them without the tortured screams and roar of demonic fire. "When you met him, what was the one thing he told you?"

The Director flinched. His scowl came with a low growl. "Fine... I see your point." He slowly sat back down, placing his paws down on his lap. "I would've enjoyed breaking the bastard before handing him over to you to fix. A Pyrrhic Victory. But I can see that this is your way of tilting the scales back in your favour." The Director began sifting through the papers in front of him. "If we manage to talk down the Woodfather, attacking them would make me the bad guy. You just set up that painfully long meeting, delaying our deployment so that we wouldn't arrive there until the Woodfather reaches the GAP."

"It wasn't _that_long of a meeting." R3's mood brightened. "You liked the crumpets, didn't you?"

The Director grumbled. "Yes. Yes I did. I'll need that recipe by the way." He straightened and adjusted his tie gruffly. "Well played, R3. Well played."

The Writer of Reality dusted himself off theatrically. "With that settled, I'll see you on the bridge. I'll bring us there at the point in time that I feel is appropriate. I'll bring some crumpets along as well. Butter or jam?"

"Urgh..." groaned the Director. "Jam, please."

A final smirk from the No One left the two in the conference room with a chill. R3 left through the sliding door and William could finally let out the sigh he had been holding.

"I fucking _hate_that guy..." he growled.

"Sometimes I hate him. Sometimes I'm reminded I can't exist without him," muttered the Director. He turned his gaze away from the doorway that the No One had left through. "He serves his purpose. Everyone needs someone to tell them they're wrong every now and then. That's how we keep bettering ourselves and growing stronger. Something the Woodfather won't ever achieve if he keeps on this path." He sighed and slapped the table with his paw. "Still, I prefer to deal with R3 than other No Ones." He cast a sidelong glance at his companion. "Have you ever dealt with the Liaison?"

William rolled his eyes and absently rubbed the side of his cheek in response to a distant memory. "You know, sometimes I wonder if those bastards have some sort of appropriate workplace behaviour seminars or not. She of all people could use them. Using physical abuse to drive a point home isn't the best way to teach a lesson in my opinion."

The Director laughed. "True. I much prefer working with the Harbinger. He's fun." He sighed and sat back down on his seat. "Unfortunately, we're going to have to work with the Writer on this one. The Woodfather himself is not a major issue. It's what caused the Woodfather that has me concerned."

The High Commander's eyes narrowed.

"MASTER."

Spread

[Warning: Troop morale is grim]

[Activating mood improvement protocol]

[?In-a-gadda-da-vida,honey Don't you know that I'm loving you? In-a-gadda-da-vida, baby Don't you know that I'll always be true? Oh, won't you come with me And a-take my hand? Oh, won't you come with me And a-walk this land? Please take my hand_?_]

[Director: "No, Alabaster. Just... No"]

Humans were pointlessly complex creatures. Even in the face of doom, they played politics with one another and were mostly paralyzed with fear over the unknown. Under the Woodfather, things were so much simpler. An endless existence of love that fed the soul and endless pleasure of the physical form. There was no fear, hatred or pain. Just the eternal knowledge that the Woodfather loved each and every one of us and that as his chosen, as his beloved, we were granted immortality. We didn't do his bidding because he wanted us to. We did it because it felt good to spread the influence of the Woodfather and cleanse this world of man's sins.

Movement amongst the leaves of the great Father Tree heralded the approach of Strip. The foremost Scout and leader of the hunting party had come to make his report. The bestial stag crawled amongst the branches on all fours, approaching with a look of hunger and pleasure in his bright, green eyes. His cock was already very much hard in anticipation of his daily feeding.

I spread an arm to welcome him and he eagerly approached where I sat perched on my throne. This particular Father Tree had been born from the White Tail HuntingClub and had become the home of my brood. Some foolish humans had sought to escape the city by fleeing to the northern forests. No other stags were built to chase them through the woodlands than the Scouts. Some members of the military had even attempted to sneak in from the forest and set up camp there. They had all been assaulted by the Scouts.

Strip crawled up to me and eagerly wrapped his muzzle around one of my nipples. The touch of his lips, the gentle and yet arousing force of his drinking was enough to give rise to my dick. Good Strip already knew how to get me going. The moan that left my lips was a testament to his ever-improving skills with his tongue. The proximity of our souls filled us both with energy and vigour, allowing me to pump more and more milk from my sacs down his throat and for my dick to drool precum all over my chest. His hands slid up and down the veiny, black rod, pushing the foreskin over the bright, pink glands and sending waves of pleasure and arousal throughout my entire body.

Without some form of distraction, I was likely to blow my load within seconds. Strip had become rather proficient in pushing me over the edge. A game of tug-of-war often played out between us whenever we were together. He would try to lead me to orgasm and I would always pull myself back to make the moment last even longer.

"Tell me how things are going," I rumbled.

His tongue gave my nipple one last flick before his hands began doing the work. That was a tactical error on my part as now there were two invasive forces milking me.

"The humans have deployed a secondary wall around many miles past the borders of Ferndyllias," answered the Scout. "Though they have erected the quarantine around the city limits, those that make it past are not allowed through the second, taller, thicker wall."

A second wall. Just as the Woodfather had planned. Those humans that managed to escape _Ferndyllias_thought they were free but in reality, they were just prey for the Scouts, Chargers, Synergists and Haunted who roamed the wilderness beyond the quarantine barrier. They were quickly hunted down, turned and joined their voices to celebrating the Woodfather's name. Even now, their joyous rebirth as a stag reached through the vast distances and into me. The sensation was ineffable but the closest I could compare it to was thousands upon thousands of tiny wires being injected into my balls, pectorals and abdominals. Each one would shoot a fragment of the bliss they felt every time they orgasmed, perhaps just one tenth of the explosive elation they felt with every burst but when thousands of them were offering a fraction of the sensations they felt to me non-stop, it left me paralysed.

My throne nestled within the Father Tree was a testament to just how overwhelming all this pleasure was. My feet were soaking in a thick pool of my milk mixed with my greenish-white seed. The chair made of gnarled wood and twisted roots sunk into a lake of my juices which only grew deeper and deeper the farther it went before curving gently back to the edges of the pool. Any human that wandered through it would have been waist deep in my milk. The more Strip played with my nipples, the more of my milk would squirt out, joining the vast volumes around me. My fingers curled around the armrests as I valiantly tried to hold back the orgasm that was guaranteed to erupt.

"Are... Are the numbers... number okay?" I stammered, barely able to form a cogent sentence.

Strip smiled. With his two hands occupied with a nipple each, his muzzle lowered towards one of the second pairs of nipples. "Almost. Still over. Being evacuated now. We will have ten million soon."

A shudder ran throughout my entire body as I grit my teeth together, doggedly keeping myself from that moment of release. However, I still drew pleasure from this fight. Strip nestled his chest against my dick, tensing his pectorals so that it could cradle my length in tandem with his licks. He really did know how to get my buttons going. Milk and precum was soaking his fur and the excess was leaking down my legs and down into the pool around us. Pulses from the countless of others he and his kind had turned me into a constantly leaking faucet.

Then there was Craft and Cutter.

Through bleary, glazed eyes, I caught sight of the two approaching. Craft, a true spectacle of cervine brilliance and a milkman waded effortlessly into the pool around my throne. Where a human would have been waist deep in the pool, it only reached up to his knees. The statuesque buck held out his arms to the bigger, heftier Cutter who waddled forward, his big, furry balls dragging across the roots and slowly lowering himself into Craft's arms. Together, the two traversed the pool towards me, bright green eyes shining. The closer they drew, the stronger the connection of I felt from all the men they had turned. The dripping streams from my nipples turned into powerful jets, shooting out in tall arcs and splashing down upon the pool. Still, I held back from orgasm even as a high pitched whine rose from my throat.

Craft ran his hand along my thigh, smiling affectionately. As his soul drew closer, my own leapt for joy, torn between the magnets that pulled me either in his direction or Strip's. Thankfully, he eased the war as he lowered himself to my last, unattended nipple and wrapped his muzzle around it. The intensity of physical sensations tripled; the dams holding back my seed crumbling. His hand wrapped around my cock, squeezing down on the base but not running up and down its length even as Strip's undulating pectorals tried to coax my cum from my balls.

"Wh - wh - what's the... the situation?" I stammered.

Of course the Milkman had to pull his lips away to speak. Our souls could easily communicate but he knew I enjoyed the foreplay, the build up, the rumble of thunder before the crash of lightning. The smile on his broad, square muzzle meant he knew I was very close to losing this three-on-one war.

"The army personnel on the northern and eastern checkpoints have been turned. They have been rotated out to patrol the various encampments beyond the wall of Ferndyllias. Some of them I have activated and deployed to spread across the refugee camps. Others remain sleeping, lying in wait until the day the Woodfather shatters the walls."

The truth of his words only caused my cock to ache all the more. Beyond the wall of Ferndyllias, other Milkmen lay in wait. The soldiers that had the symbiotic milk wrapped around their forms could do nothing as it controlled their movements and guided them to say and do things that they would not normally do. They all begged from release from their rogue bodies but the moment the white goo erupted from their orifices and merged them with the Woodfather's herd, they could not be happier. Except perhaps when they felt the rush of hot milk erupting from their two nipples and the pride of bringing forth another milkman.

I hissed, sucking air between my teeth as Craft once again assaulted my lone nipple. A hot, fleshy tube gently teased my lips. Cutter's prehensile member tapped my nose for entrance. The Seasoned, perched to my left, gazed upon me with pleading, green eyes. I wrapped a hand behind his head, stroking his head and brushing my fingers along his antlers. Then I guided him towards my upper left nipple. Strip knew instantly remove his fingers from that nub as Cutter began to drink of the juices that had sustained and caused him to evolve.

"Cutter..." was all I could manage before his cock shot down my throat and began pumping delicious seed into my stomach. There was no room for words. Our bodies became meshed in waves of physical pleasure. Our souls alone could barely communicate and not even in words. All I received between the swirling tides of stimulation were images that were constantly interrupted by the sensations of hot, muscled bodies grinding against one another.

Cutter's Seasoned were performing some 'clean-up' duty within the city. Guarded by the Milkmen and the Lumbered, the Seasoned purposefully 'seasoned' any supplies that they could find. Stragglers who found them were instantly infected and found themselves craving more. Called by the siren song of the Woodfather and more food, they would eventually find themselves amongst the Seasoned before they too were turned. Of course they could do nothing about the humans already lining up at the border walls to escape but there were still so many still trapped within the city and the suburbs closer to the city centre that they would have starved had the Seasoned not saved them. This way, they had their fill and joined the Woodfather.

The moment the last report was in, my body heaved in joy. Every inch of my form became wracked in overwhelming pleasure like every cell was afire with ecstasy. The same sensations overtook the three bucks so closely intertwined with me. Strip's entire body tensed, turning into hardened iron, his pectorals squeezing down on my dick. Craft buried his muzzle hard into my nipple, moaning loudly and clutching onto my leg for dear life as if it was his only lifeline against the storm of sexual delight we found ourselves in. Cutter's cock, flexible as it was, grew rigid within me and he bit down on my nipple, sending lightning crashing amongst the swirling storm.

Their spirits held onto mine. I was the captain of this ship and somehow, I managed to hold fast even as our bodies thrashed, ground and bucked into one another. Every movement, every gyration and every kiss, lick or suckle was felt by each of us. The miniature bursts of release that came with my nipples unleashing their payload reverberated throughout each of the four bodies that were intertwined. They all felt my cock being sandwiched between Strip's pecs. We all felt the hard veins of Craft's cock running up and down the side of my calf. Each of us was assaulted by the sensations of Cutter's cock sliding seamlessly up and down my throat, my tongue curling around the length and tasting the hot seed that came pouring out of the length.

There was no longer a divide between each of us. We were one being, one entity riding a hurricane of sensations brought about by four, muscle gut stags curled around one another. Every sensation was felt fourfold, filling our spirits with intense energies that could not be contained. Our union shot through the network, causing everyone spiritually linked to the Woodfather to suddenly be overcome by the euphoric bliss that we experienced. Those farther out were a little deprived but the Woodcasters and Replanters within my Father Tree could not help but fall to the ground and convulse as their bodies were wracked with blissful delights. Humans who had yet to be converted were swept up in the tsunami. No matter how much they resisted, they were forced to their knees, cocks spasming and the faintest glow of green shining behind their eyes.

There was nothing I could do to hold back the tide. As the orgasms of those around us sent thrilling blasts of energies towards us, my restraint crumbled. My eyes shot open but all I could see was an all-consuming green light. Every muscle tensed, every bone going rigid and every joint locking into place. Fire pumped through my veins sending me into a full-body orgasm. Molten seed came rushing up my dick, every inch it travelled taking an agonising eternity until the final release. When it hit the point where it would burst from my glands, it seemed to stall. Days, months, years, centuries seemed to pass until it shot out in a glorious geyser. Strip's pectorals squeezed down and Craft's hand clenched the base of my cock but none of it could stop the flood that came bursting out of me.

A chain reaction quickly followed. Strip was next to cum, his seed splattering against my right leg with enough force to force my meaty limb to slam against the base of the seat. Craft quickly followed and accompanying his cock's release, his nipples also unleashed their own. Lastly, Cutter let out a deafening cry with his own orgasm, sending gallons of his delicious seed pumping down into my throat.

The storm only intensified and too late did I realise something was very wrong. There was no warmth of euphoria after release. In fact, the physical pleasures of our body only intensified and our cocks spasmed for a second release almost instantly. The intensities that came rushing in from all those we were connected to came rushing back towards us, the nexus of this whirlpool of sexual pleasure. The second burst only made it much worse as all our brood were likewise forced to ejaculate a second time in rapid succession. We were stuck in an infinite loop!

When the four of us came, we sent a signal to every Milkman, Scout and Seasoned out in the world. They were forced to succumb to their primal desires and in doing so, sent a blast of powerful feedback straight back to us. That in turn sent us crashing towards another orgasm and from there, the cycle continued. I could do nothing against the storm. Every blinding release caused every cell in my body to burn, completely consumed by the sensations of the flesh.

Then a brilliant, green light cut through the storm. A beacon.

The Woodfather.

His mere presence calmed the panic in my soul.

Do not fight the storm. Allow myself to become part of it rough currents. Give myself into the tides. Surrender myself to the Woodfather. There was no doubt in my heart. Neither Strip, Craft or Cutter argued either. They loved the Woodfather with every fibre of their being and together, we released our grip on our mortal forms.

Our bodies let out a tremendous cry, our voices all erupting from Cutter's muzzle -- as his was the only one not occupied -- and our cocks let out one last titanic burst. This one overwhelmed our souls. In the emerald ether, I felt my grip on the three men that I had uplifted slipping. But there was no regret, no doubt. Only eternal bliss. Strip held me tightly in his arms before his embrace loosened. He slipped away from me, dissolving into the ether with a blissful smile on his features. Craft shuddered as the currents pulled him away from me. Slowly, his arm slipped away from my shoulder and he too vanished into the waves. Lastly, Cutter shed a single tear before spreading his arms wide and ascending, floating upwards away from me and being absorbed into the light.

Alone but not quite, I bathed in the benevolence of the Woodfather... and I too followed my kin into the light.

Praise the Woodfather.

From where he stood, the Woodfather watched as the tangle of bodies of his first son, Vincent, erupted into an explosion of greenish-white seed. The burst splattered his son's already-drenched throne and oozed into the lake that sat within this particular Father Tree. The other stags were momentarily lost. One of the connections they had with the Woodfather and abruptly disappeared.

But he would not let that be the case for long.

He waded into the lake, his mighty hoofed feet sinking beneath the gooey, green-white waves. Spreading his arms wide, the Woodfather welcomed his son and his brood into himself. Spires of the goo shot into the air, possessed by his incredible will. They curled through the air, twisting and winding in mesmerising patterns. The essences of his son and the three stags he had directly created were contained with. Their memories, their thoughts and their souls all dissolved into the goo. One stream shot straight into his muzzle and he drank it all in.

Poor Vincent. Despite his ascension, he was not prepared for the complete and utter merger of souls or the unrestrained connection between himself and the others he had created. But that was expected. When the Woodfather had absorbed him and his three friends, even the then piddling spirit had difficulty containing them all. He eventually had to eject their souls from his body and give them physical form until he was strong enough to be able to absorb them and _all_the stags into him.

It was the only way to preserve nature, after all. His stags were connected to his network and once their service was done, once they had atoned for their sins as humans, they could take the final stage of ascension - to be one with the Woodfather. The truest gift the Woodfather could give his beloved sons was godhood -- as part of him.

The Woodfather absorbed the experiences of Vincent, Strip, Craft and Cutter easily. There was no hesitation, to pain or pause. He learned from Vincent's desire to edge before orgasm, adored Strip's pride as a man, relished Craft's joy at being milked and drew pleasure from the idea of sucking his own dick from Cutter. Their souls and power were put to good use.

As he reforged the bonds between him and the other stags, he channelled their strength towards his four nipples. With a grunts, he flexed his pectorals, greenish-white milk dripping from the four, black nubs that poured down his chest. The orifices were now open and he permitted the streams of milk to come shooting into his body from his nipples. A sixth stream came rocketing towards his cock, curling first around his enormous balls and then spiralling around the erect length before diving down his slit. The seventh and by far the thickets, poured into his ass, filling every part of him with the warmth and joy that these four brave stags had felt.

The last drop of the mixture fell upon his muzzle. The Woodfather brushed it off with a finger, lifting the droplet to eye level.

"You were an innovative and ambitious soul, Vincent. I love you."

He wrapped his lips around the finger, relishing the taste for an entire minute. Turning towards the rising sun, he could feel the anticipation of his three remaining sons.

"Soon, by boys," he told them. "You will all ascend soon."

[All troops prepare for XD-Drop]

[Reality Anchors primed]

[Psychic Dampeners activated]

[All weapons armed]

Despite the inevitability of their situation, there were some amongst the humans who refused to submit. Perhaps it was because they had somehow heard of the truth of the negotiations currently being undertaken or maybe suspected. Or perhaps they were just vile creatures who refused to kneel to their true god and willingly turned against their fellow man in a desperate attempt to survive. Whatever their reasons, these 'Unmounted' were a pain to deal with.

I was none too pleased being confined to the old lumber mill but the Father Tree that had been erected within its confines had become my home. The constant flood of sensations that came from being the nexus for the stags I had created had become cripplingly overwhelming. It was the same for my brothers save perhaps for Sid who benefited from the presence of the Replanters that could absorb the brunt of these stimulations. It was why Vince had been stuck at his Father Tree, producing more and more milk until he had created a lake around himself. For me, the Lumbered and their constant excitement had become a detriment to my ability to lead the fight for the Woodfather. It felt good. Every time they came, I felt a fragment of it. Problem is, they came a lot. If they weren't producing fruit to infect others, they had to fuck one another senseless to be able to get some rest.

That meant little rest for me, however.

Even now, it took all my effort and will to constantly pump both my biceps with weights made from the twisted metal that had once made the lumber mill while also performing rapid squats. If I didn't distract myself with constant exercise, the rush of sensations would overwhelm me and probably cause me to be bedridden. The last thing I wanted was to be stuck on my throne just waiting for the Woodfather to take me into his arms. That may have worked for Vince but I had to keep active.

Blunt, the first of my Amalgams, stood beside, similarly working out but to a slightly lesser extent. The towering stag had been my constant companion and adviser. When Vince's integration into the Woodfather sent shock waves throughout the entire spiritual plane, I was struck with doubt. Was I good enough to be one with the Woodfather? Couldn't I just be a little leaner? A little bigger for him? Then Blunt had soothed me. The Woodfather loved us all and soon, I would become part of God himself. No one would ever doubt my masculinity.

The time was drawing near. The Woodfather was coming

"I can feel him approaching," rumbled Blunt, his cock rising to salute the approach of our progenitor and god. He fell to his knees, shaking from head to toe in anticipation. "My body is ready."

"I wish I had your confidence," I muttered, throwing the makeshift dumbbells angrily to the ground. They made considerable dents in the bark of the Father Tree. "I cannot shake the feeling that I am unworthy."

The sympathetic look on the Amalgam's face was perhaps more scathing than if he had laughed. He rose from his kneeling position and wrapped his arms around me. As the tallest of my creations, his muzzle nestled easily at the crook of my neck. Our erect dicks pressed against one another, the heat of our arousal radiating from the contact like a sun. His multiple members embraced mine, two flanking mine and the last pressing down against my length.

"I know what troubles you," said Blunt. "You want to take care of the Unmounted. They're the loose end here. Sid has finished negotiations with the humans. Vince was the first to ascend. Toby is spreading word of the Woodfather past our borders. You feel like you have not done enough to earn this honour."

His lips met mine, all four of his hands roving my muscled frame. The lower two glided up and down my wide lats and the upper two roved across my broad shoulders. Feeling just how small his hands were compared to mine, how his fingers would get stuck in the crevasses of my muscles, woke a primal desire to flex and display my muscles for him. He always knew how to make me feel appreciated. Despite the thick muscles and flesh separating our souls, they were able to touch one another. Tendrils of his powerful soul, the product of two spirits merged perfectly into one, intermingled with mine.

In theory, his essence could overwhelm mine but he willingly submitted to me. He spread himself for me, welcoming me to take him, consume him, all to make myself bigger for a better offering to the Woodfather. How could I refuse? A moan rose from his throat and he broke our kiss to rest his muzzle against the crook of my neck. The more of his flesh touched mine, the better. His lower arms curled around my waist, three-fingered hands seizing my firm rump firmly so that his fingers could almost sink into the hardened muscles. I lifted my arms, flexing them in a firm double bicep pose. His upper arms pressed against the taut limbs, his own sizzling hot muscles running over mine and his hands intertwining with my own.

Once Blunt had come from my balls, merged from two weak humans into something more. Now, an incredible force was drawing him back into me. This undeniable attraction was more powerful than either of us. Whether or not I willed it, his soul was drawn into mine. Our bodies had no choice but to comply to the demands of the much stronger spirit. His flesh tensed for a moment, his hands tightening their grips on my body.

A sound like a thick stew bubbling away was drowned out by the loud moan that rose from my throat. His fingers dug into my ass, piercing the barriers of flesh and fur and dissolving into my body. There were equals parts of his body diving into mine and my own glutes rising up to consume his form. The hands gripping my own unwound from my fingers, before seemingly weakening and shrinking into my palms. All the air between our forearms escaped from the sides of our compacted muscles as my veins launched out from my skin and latched onto his. Like a net, the greenish network hooked his meat and bones with mine. I claimed his forearms as my own and then his upper arms. The combined strengths from our once separate limbs were incredible. He was relaxed when his flesh was merged with my own but my arms were flexed. So the moment my nerves took over his, his body tensed, ever muscle seizing up to my overwriting command and sending his three cocks spasming with joy.

Our chests were a different story. His mass sank into mine, my pectorals broadening and widening to consume him. My traps rose up over his buried muzzle, his eyes shut in pleasure. His toes, hoofed as they were, curled in ecstasy. His added mass - the culmination of two humans - sent my own skyrocketing. My spine and legs lengthened, arms stretching forward to remain proportional with the rest. His toes -- hoofed as they were -- curled in ecstasy as they were lifted off the ground and his thighs disappeared into my own. He was forced to split his legs apart to give room for my cock to slip out from where it had cone been compressed between our bodies to where it now sat erect, cradled between his rapidly diminishing thighs.

Like Jupiter's pull on its many moons, the gravity of my increasing power attracted the two others I had brought into this world. Bark, silent as ever emerged quietly from the vines of the Father Tree, smiling and padding over towards me. Brawn grinned broadly, his cock dripping as he arrived from opposite Bark.

"Holy fuck, bro! You're swole!"

I grinned at him and, using my partially merged limbs, gestured at my throbbing dick. "Get over here."

"You gonna lift me, bro?"

Bark's coarse arms covered in -- as his name attested -- bark curled around my back. Even given his size, he could only bury his muzzle about halfway down my expanding back. His arms could still reach around my waist, his fingers just barely grazing Blunt's limbs. As he closed his eyes, he pulled Blunt towards me, accelerating our merger and at the same time, my back grew to consume him. He became glued to that part of my back. My legs continued to widen and lengthen and just like Blunt, he was lifted off the ground.

"You bet I am," I growled at Brawn. "Now get over here and ride my dick before it's too high for you to reach."

He eagerly jumped at my cock, his tongue dancing circles around the bright pink head and slurping up the thick precum unrestrained. Blunt's toes sank into my knees and he let out one last shudder as our souls bonded. His last conscious thoughts were to remind me that this was very much the same way the Woodfather had brought me and my brothers into the world. The coincidence was all too real and I quivered with excitement. Another moan left my throat as my chest swelled and the top of his head sunk in the gap between my shoulder and neck. His antlers still protruded but it there was little of the first Amalgam left as he was absorbed into my might pectorals and solid, head-sized abdominals.

A slight pinching came from my thighs. It was Brawn climbing up my legs so that he could properly impale himself on my rapidly thickening cock. He used Blunt's rapidly retreating antlers as handholds to position himself. One hand pointed my rod towards his waiting ass. Even that first inch was enough to make him squeal and cause his member to start blasting his excited seed in all directions. All four of us roiled at his ecstasy, Blunt's soul giving more and more of itself to me as it was overwhelmed by the avalanche of euphoria.

Bark's soul slipped from his body and sank into the comforting embrace of mine. More and more I felt my soul rising up to fill the enormous shell that was my rapidly growing body. As Bark's essence joined Blunt's, I was overcome by the sensation that they were just minuscule ants sitting atop an enormous world and now they were returning from the very earth that they came.

Another wave of pleasure heralded by an orgasm from Brawn buried the two deeper into my essence. Blunt was almost completely consumed and Bark willingly sunk himself into the meat of my spirit, trying to hasten the process without waiting for Brawn's next ejaculation no matter how many seconds they were apart. His feet sank into my calves, disappearing between the vascular mounds. The meaty, bark-covered arms disappeared into my waist, vanishing beneath my fur and adding more to my mass.

The added growth pushed my cock deeper into Brawn and that sent him roiling into another orgasm. His soul was jostled from his body by the explosive burst, a rough choking sound escaping from his lips followed by a deep-throated gurgle. Within me, his spirit crashed hard into Bark, propelling the Synergist deeper into me. All three of the men I had reforged into this world roiled together, almost becoming indistinguishable as they rode and amplified the rising pleasure that our merged bodies offered.

Brawn's body spasmed. Hot precum came rocketing out of my balls, shooting up the length of my cock and through his body. I felt the rising burst of molten liquid rushing through his body before it shot straight out of his muzzle. His bright green eyes were glazed over even as his muscled form was rigid as a board. The powerful gravity of my body pulled his legs downward, binding them to my cock. All the definition of his form sank into the throbbing length of my member, his legs melding into the black pole and becoming just another two veins along the monolithic tool.

His body, arched back in pleasure squirmed as the sensitivity of his flesh -- my flesh -- grew. Another powerful burst of cum came shooting from my gargantuan balls and there was nothing holding back the heavenly sensation that came from feeling the thick, greenish-white goo shooting out from our combined bodies. The definition on his arms and chest eased into a thicker, simpler and yet familiar shape.

I grinned as I ran an enormous hand over his features feeling every stroke as if it were my own. His antlers toppled off and the fur all over his body dropped around my feet, giving way to veiny, black flesh. The contours of his face shrank back into his shoulders as a thick, flap of black flesh rose up from around his chest, covered in greenish-white slime and slowly consuming his head. The last sensation before it was completely consumed was a burst of seed so powerful that it sent his tongue erupting from between his lips. It was fascinating feeling that appendage slip out between what would be my foreskin before being pulled back inside. For a second, I tasted my own seed from my cock.

Then, my foreskin pulled back once more to reveal the bright, pink head of my newly formed dick.

To celebrate, a tremendous blast of seed came erupting out of my balls, sending a geyser of my seed rocketing upwards. My legs, powerful and thick as they were, toppled out from beneath me and I fell to my knees. Within my soul, Brawn, Bark and Blunt, my three best friends and members of my beloved family, let out one last contended sigh before they melted into my spirit just as Vince had absorbed his creations.

Panting, he regarded my new, enormous hands, feeling the strength within them even as my cock unleashed another blast of excitement. Through bleary eyes, I noticed that a shadow was looking over me. Gentle hands cupped my chin and lifted it so that I looked directly into the divine countenance of my father.

"Am I worthy, father?" I asked, tears in my eyes.

"Oh my boy," whispered the Woodfather. "You have always been worthy." His hands slipped from my cheeks and towards my shoulders. Gently he pushed me onto my back, the hard bark of the Father Tree feeling so small beneath my muscles. He rested himself on my chest, appearing strangely small in comparison.

"Let me show you just how worthy you are," he said.

His hands reached behind him until he found my dick. My heart and soul stopped for a moment as he guided my lengthly member directly towards his ass. No one had _ever_fucked the Woodfather. Now, I would be the first! First and last. I would not squander this moment.

The moment my sensitive head touched his ass, we both let out a tremendous cry, enough to rattle the branches of the Father Tree and rustle the leaves around us. Our bodies became driven by primal instinct and I barely remember throwing him onto his back and shoving my dick as far up his ass as it would go before I was met with resistance. Our lips met in heated passion, his arms and legs curling around my form as I thrust into him with enough force to shake the entire Tree.

Overwhelming joy erupted from my soul as his essence entered my shell. I knew what he wanted and I willingly gave it to him. But he was my father and wanted what was the best for me. He would not let this moment end so soon. No, he knew what I truly wanted even if I did not know it myself. Still in control of his limbs, he lifted his legs from around me and as I thrust backwards out of him, he pushed his feet into my piss slit. A burst of pleasure erupted from every cell in my body.

The Woodfather hadn't just let me fuck him.

The Woodfather was letting me consume him!

I could not allow such a travesty to occur to the holiest of beings but I was no longer in control of my own form. Left in awe and to absorb the sensations of my body, I could only sit by and watch as he sank further and further into my cock. There was no semblance of control or restraint. Wave after wave of euphoria hit me and burst after burst of cum came shooting out of my cock. It served as a means to make the session last as the sheer force of the blow was enough to push the Woodfather out of my dick a few inches before he would sink a whole half-a-foot back in.

Every eruption brought me closer and closer to the Woodfather. It dawned upon me that he was so_much bigger than I. If I were the planet that Brawn, Bark and Blunt inhabited, _he was the universe. A mere speck in a greater being and one that I was glad to be part of. He welcomed me into his embrace and as another burst of seed came shooting from my -- no, from his -- cock, I gave myself fully to him, mind... body... And soul.

Praise the Woodfather.

The moment the last inch of the Woodfather disappeared down the monster cock was when the stag god fully took control of the titanic body. He stood on his new, powerful legs, letting gravity pull the rest of his former body into the pit that was his enormous balls. Unable to control himself, he threw his head back and let out a tremendous roar. Searing, greenish-white seed erupted from his cock, shooting upward with enough force that it cleaved through the branches of the Father Tree and cut open a wide hole in the canopy above.

The wild energies within the shell quickly reorganised itself, mirroring the gifts that his first son had granted him but also integrating the power that Mikey had given. His already enormous pectorals started moving upwards along with his spine that started stretching as well. The two, highest abdominals began swelling in size, quickly being 'promoted' into another set of solid pectorals complete with their own sensitive, black nubs for nipples. Two, equally powerful arms came shooting out from his flanks, positioned just beside the new set of chest muscles. All four of the Woodfather's limbs quickly bent towards his chest, giving the muscles a squeeze and sending out a blast milk from each nipple.

The warm rays of the sun touched the new, gargantuan Woodfather and he peered up through the hole he had made in the Father Tree with pride.

"You were beyond compare, Michael. A true son of mine. I never stopped loving you."

He turned his enormous head, gazing out past the Father Tree as his rain of seed began to fall upon the rest of Ferndyllias.

"Soon we will be complete. Very soon."

[All Fleet Captains report]

[NCF Wayward Falcon under Commander B. Gus Dickus and support fleet synchronised]

[NCCv Nova of Terror under Commander Anita Dickinme and vanguard fleet synchronised]

[NCD Infuriation under Commander E. Rex Sean and battle fleet synchronised]

[NCC Illustrious under Admiral Edith D. Pussy and bombardment fleet synchronised]

[NCB Nevermore under Admiral Philip Oliver Krevises and supply fleet synchronised]

[NC-Titan Annihilation Nexus under --]

[Director: "Alabaster, stop it."]

[... sorry]

---

His name was Alistair Neiman. An experienced negotiator and former politician, he was the ambassador of Canada to the United Nations. In his storied career, he had a number of achievements under his name from successfully negotiating an oil pipeline from Canada to the US, easing immigration for refugees from war-torn countries and even committing Canada to a global initiative against climate change. But this was his hardest challenge.

Emphasis on 'hard'.

"So is it all in place?" I asked.

Neiman visibly struggled with his pants even as he continuously stuffed his face with the food prepared for him. "Y - Y - Yes," he stammered. "The secondary wall has been put in place. No one is getting out. Governments all over the world have agreed to give the Woodfather all of Ontario and half of Quebec in exchange for a... a... Oh fuck..." He grimaced as his cock began to worm its way down his pant leg, squirming and twisting while dripping his seed into the plush, black fabric.

"Continue," I urged. Though it really was no longer necessary to maintain an air of control and patience and I felt the urgency of closing the deal given how close the Woodfather was, I still needed one last thing from Neiman.

"Y - Yes..." stammered the ambassador. "Oh fuck... there are so good..." He stuffed more food down his mouth. "Non-aggression pact. No one will attack you or the Woodfather. Visitors are, of course, allowed to cross the borders as long as they go through the standard procedures... and... and if after three years there are no major incidents... urgh! Fuck!"

His dick sprang forth from the hem of his pants, squirming his greenish-white seed against his polished shoes.

"The United Nations will tear down the wall," I finished calmly. "One last thing, Mr. Neiman."

"Anything..." pleaded the ambassador, his eyes already glowing green. "Tell me what I have to do, Sid... tell me what the Woodfather needs."

I pushed one piece of paper across the table towards him. "Sign this."

He didn't even hesitate. He grabbed the nearest pen, stuffing his face with a custard tart and only sparing the piece of paper a glance long enough to know where to sign before digging into the next meal. The poor sap didn't even realise that he had just signed away his legal status as a Canadian to be part of the Woodfather's newest nation. In effect, he would be the first immigrant. His retinue would follow shortly, and they would eventually embrace the love of the Woodfather but this was more for the rest of the world. After all, if an expert negotiator like Neiman could bend a knee to the Woodfather, perhaps the nation of stags would not be so bad. At least that is how it was going to be played. It would be the bridge that would eventually begin the Woodfather's spread across the rest of the world.

Sadly, it would not be my place to see it all.

My father was calling me. The siren song sparked a bit of jealousy in me for my other siblings had been with the Woodfather longer than I had. When he had first brought me into the fold of the herd, I was held but a few short seconds within him before I was expelled to give form. Now that I was being given the opportunity to become one with him entirely, I was impatient to get started.

"That's all I needed," I said, taking the signed form from Neiman. "Enjoy your meal. Praise the Woodfather."

Neiman echoed my response and dove at the table full of food, his cock springing free of his pants and shoving itself up his own ass to double his pleasure. I left the transforming ambassador to his pleasures. One day, he too will experience the true joy of being with the Woodfather but for now, he would have his role to play in the years to come. Everyone would. The torch was being passed on from my brothers and I to the next generation. We would empower the Woodfather, preparing him to take on the world. Nothing could be more rewarding.

I left the _Ferndyllias_town hall where the negotiations had been held. Not too far away, the quarantine barriers were erected and the citizens of this once foul city were clamouring to escape. The military was there and they were purposefully stalling the procedures. On top of the promise of land, the United Nations had also agreed to allow a total of ten million people to remain within the area to be converted. The rest would be evacuated but those ten million would join the Woodfather's herd and spread his influence to the corners of our nation.

Once the three years were up, there would no doubt be immigrants. Toby's work would ensure that. The governments would be unable to do anything as their people fled oppression and strife to further empower the Woodfather. Other stags would likewise work their way through the other nations and spread the Woodfather's call. It would be slow but once all were united under the Woodfather... well, only the living god knew.

Stomp and Weed were waiting for me at the bottom of the town hall's steps. Weed immediately met me with an embrace and our lips locked affectionately. His joy was palpable. To him, it was a humble honour to be one of the first to join the Woodfather in his entirety. As the first of his kind, he was given that honour and he had served the Woodfather well. The man that he had been was gone and now, this powerful, nurturing buck that helped cultivate the world we belonged to had earned his place amongst us.

"Come on you two," Stomp growled. "The Woodfather isn't going to wait forever."

Smiling through our kiss, gave Weed one last pat on his rump before breaking our contact. "Yes, he is right."

The four-legged stag turned towards the street. He grunted as we both leapt onto his back, sitting closest to his torso and Weed right behind me. Weed's dick was erect and dripping with need. It was evident he wanted one last moment of bonding before we both gave ourselves to the Woodfather. But there was little time. We were called and it was a powerful song that drew us to the first ever Father Tree. Even without a word, Stomp began galloping towards the Father Tree, his monstrous cock rising from his sheath and slapping his underbelly excitedly with every step.

Weed's gnarled, wooden arms wrapped around my waist, bringing him closer to me.

"Were that we could have one more moment before our ascension," he cooed into my ear.

I had to agree. Second only to the Woodfather's lovemaking, my sessions with Weed were the best I had ever had. We connected on a far deeper level than I could attain even with my brothers. Perhaps it was because our souls had been related and some fragment of that still remained.

With a gentle touch, I cupped his cheeks. "I had hoped to have you inside of me when we greeted the Woodfather."

There was a moment where he considered my words. "Perhaps there is another way."

"Oh?"

Slowly, the vines and wood that made up his form began to creak and unbind. Slowly, his torso peeled open, each of the individual vines that made up the striations of his muscles form uncurling like a thousand tendrils. Within the hollow frame was the gooey, glowing, green substance that was the solidified soul of Weed.

"Enter me," moaned the Replanter. "Enter me and let me be in you."

Stomp, to his credit, did not stop moving. "You two aren't doing anything weird back there are you?"

I could not help but let out a little laugh as Weed's tendrils curled around my frame and slowly brought towards him. I did not resist. My back sank into the goo of his frame. Like slowly submerging backwards into warm putty, I immediately felt a warmth that radiated from our contact. His soul enveloped mine but did not consume it. That honour belonged to the Woodfather. I repositioned my arms so that his own eternal 'suit' could wrap around them. His legs curled around my own, the wood and vines binding around my limbs until we were one. I could feel his cock rubbing up against my own and I first wondered exactly how he would support both our members. My answer was my dick resting atop his as his flesh closed in around us, his gooey soul cupping my balls inside comfortably.

A low moan left my lips as the green, glowing substance pushed up against my hole. It was an alien sensation but I nevertheless relaxed and allowed him to penetrate me. My hips bucked out of impulse and that caused a slight warping of his frame even as the vines began closing around me again. His head rested over mine, slightly bigger but fitting comfortably around his strong shoulders. My own antlers replaced his, jutting out of small incisions in his wider suit.

His gooey core moved around my form, covering me entirely. I bathed in his soul, felt his genuine affection for me and the impatience he felt at breaking the barrier between us so that we could be truly one within the Woodfather. A smile graced my lips and form the slight opening, his goo slipped between my lips. I tasted him like never before even after taking his cock many times before. I wanted more and so I opened my muzzle and let him penetrate me. He dove down every orifice, filling me just as I was inside of him. When I moaned, he echoed. The barriers between our spirits was as thing as it could get without the Woodfather's guidance.

Our minds, linked as one, gripped Stomp's waist and rested our head against his broad, muscular shoulders.

"Stomp," we said in unison, his voice and mine echoing out from the one shell. "Take us there as fast as you can. Our need is great."

"Yeah, yeah," Stomp chuckled. "You guys sound like you're enjoying yourselves."

"It's just the appetiser." We kissed his neck gently. "Would you like a taste?"

The Charger grinned broadly. "Well shit. Why not? Bring me in there, stud."

We smiled. Vines reached out from our back, easily growing outward and curling down his flanks. They twisted around his dick and he had to stall for a moment as the vines gripped his member in a tight embrace. He grimaced, knees buckling for a brief moment as his cum dripped from the tip. But he became empowered by our connection. Combined, our will managed to get him to stand straight and start charging down the streets once more.

The vines continued to grow and spread, curling around his chest and arms, bringing him closer to us. He did not pause even when we wrapped our bark around his face and the bright green light of his irises consumed all of his eyes. Even when the vines began growing towards his ass, he did not hesitate. Chargers were dominant, after all, but he did not resist as he brought him into the fold.

Within the protective shell of bark and vines, the green goo spread to encompass the two stags within. We both bathed within Weed's essence and together, we rejoiced as we felt Stomp's strong personality wrap around my encased soul. With me at the centre and then Weed's gooey substance surrounding me, Stomp formed a strong, hard shell. We were evolving into a layered treat for the Woodfather.

We stopped the advance of the vines around Stomp's legs as we did not want to stall our advance towards the first Father Tree. Upon arrival, it struck us with awe that once this had been a testament to the most anti-environmental and wasteful corporation in all of Ferndyllias. Now, the biggest of the Father Trees stood here and the Woodfather waited atop it.

He called us and vines from the Father Tree curled down to build us a small platform. We stepped upon the platform and it slowly began to lift us towards the top. With the climax soon to be upon us, we let our grown develop wantonly and wreathed all of our vines around the last vestiges of flesh that was connected to us. The Charger frame was quickly consumed by the growth. A perfectly spherical shell was more appropriate and within, the three of us prepared ourselves to be enveloped by the Woodfather.

The physical shapes dissolved in the green go of our combined souls. Though our souls remained separate, the connection amongst us was stronger than ever. We shared one body and we controlled the mass as one. There were no true differences amongst us.

Though we could not see, we felt the presence of Whiff as he jumped onto the platform. His hands ran along the gnarled surface of our frame and we gave him an opening. He did not hesitate and dove in head first into the tank of goo within us. He squirmed in pleasure, letting out a blast of seed -- the last he would ever shoot by himself -- that melded with our body. As was a Haunted's instincts, he rubbed the liquid all over himself but in doing so, also spread us into ever pore and cell into his body. He soon joined us, melting into the rest of our frame and completing preparations for when we were presented to the Woodfather.

We were at last ready.

He approached us, his pride radiating through his tender touch as he circled the sphere.

"You truly are magnificent," he told us. "Now, let us embrace the future together."

Upon these words, we opened our shell to him and he happily brought his enormous frame within us. He was much bigger than what we could provide were he to stand but he curled himself up into the foetal position while we surrendered control over to him. His all-powerful soul encompassed ours.

First he licked at Whiff's delectable outer layer, the taste that tantalised his appetite. His cock rose up in excitement as we poured Whiff into him. Our entire frame sank into him, the shell that we made his egg as he underwent his metamorphosis. The immense muscles that made him grew even bigger and the bright, blonde hairs grew thicker. A scent that could bent entire nations to their knees grew stronger. The last traces of the first Haunted disappeared into the Woodfather and though we felt a slight pang from his absence, we knew it would not last long.

Stomp was next and he eagerly offered himself to the Woodfather. The strong, roiling emotions within him funnelled into the Woodfather. His dominant personality ploughed into the Woodfather's rear and came bursting out in the form of a second pair of legs. The Woodfather's already sizeable dick moved between the second pair, his balls resting behind the immense thighs. The front two legs twisted to better support a quadrupedal stance.

It was Weed's turn and though he was anxious to leave me alone, he nonetheless answered the Woodfather's call and sank into the stag god's frame. The Woodfather welcoming him. I held onto every last fragment of the Replanter's soul as it disappeared into the Woodfather's shining, green spirit. The rush of energies that filled the Woodfather gave the entire Father Tree pause. Green energies rocketed through the entire tree, shaking its roots and branches to the point where all of _Ferndyllias_felt the tremors.

The Woodfather's ethereal arms wrapped around me and pulled me into his soul. I did not resist and as I dissolved into him, I could feel the powerful need throbbing from his dick and the immense pride he felt for me. I was his Prodigal Son and now, I had truly returned at long last. Today, I ascend into heaven with my father.

Praise the Woodfather.

With the last essence of the four men absorbed into the Woodfather, the immense energies came erupting out of the stag and he let out a tremendous roar. He flexed every muscle in his body and burst free of the egg made of bark and vines. His tremendous cock, reaching forward from his back to legs all the way up past his front two, sent a blast of seed that might as well have been a waterfall of greenish-white goo from the top branches of the Father Tree.

His connection with the Father Trees were further enhanced with the absorption of his most inventive of sons. The first of the Trees rocketed up even further towards the stratosphere, its branches spreading out wide and forming an all-consuming canopy that enveloped the sky in a five block radius. Its trunk burst out, destroying the remaining fragments of the Lancaster Logging Building and shattering the other structures to human ingenuity around it. Its roots upended sewerage systems, cables and roads with easy.

The Woodfather stretched, flexing his newly acquired muscles and limbs.

"I did not want you to leave, Siddarth," he whispered softly. "But I am grateful that you returned. I love you."

Now there was one more left.

Then, he would be complete.

[Fighter wings prepped]

[Dropships locked and loaded]

[Droppods primed]

[All squad leaders, comms check]

Humans.

Arrogant, contemptuous, warmongering creatures. In this world where they had stood as the dominant species of millennia, an end to their era was at coming. In the years to come, they would continue to take from nature the only difference was that now, nature would take back. Those who believed themselves environmentalists would willingly join what their governments had dubbed a 'cult'. Others would continue to argue against the 'Rising Green' in the north. War would be threatened but none of them would ever act upon it. They would argue far too much amongst themselves to be able to perform any actual action. There would be cells and individuals that would enact radical opposition but none of them would ever be overly threatening. Under the guidance of the Woodfather, those that welcomed him into their souls would be granted immortality.

Seven billion they numbered. A mere ten million would not seem much but it was simply the precursor to something greater. Already, the tides were shifting. Word of the Woodfather was spreading. Deny as much as they will, there would be those that were evacuated that would eventually reach their civilisation once again. The simplest of seedlings had been implanted in each of them. One day, they would grow into doubt that would eventually drive curiosity, compassion and courage. They would speak up against the governments that would suppress them. The seeds will reproduce, gathering momentum and more followers. They will pollinate, their words and deeds spreading far and wide, all over the world. The spread would be undeniable and all will eventually be drawn to the Woodfather.

It had all started with the fall of Lancaster Logging and now, I stood beneath the first Temple of the Woodfather, watching as thousands of members of our congregation, all of them deemed worthy of joining the Woodfather, coalesced and writhed in a ceaseless pool of bodies, ecstasy and our seed. Though the majority of them belonged to the Herd, there were others of our kin that joined them. High above them all, Rainmakers were pouring their seed down into the pit, dousing the stags in endless joy and stimulating them further.

A pair of soft arms wrapped around my shoulders.

"Are you coming in, Toby?" cooed Prime into my ear.

I giggled as his breath tickled my ear and I gently pushed him away. "Like I've told you again and again. I'll wait for the Woodfather."

Prime shrugged at me and took several steps back, teetering on the edge of the balcony that overlooked the orgy below. He spread his arms wide as if he were ready to fly. "Suit yourself. But you know that the longer you wait, the less time you have to fuck and be fucked until the time of ascension comes!"

"I can wait."

"Alright," he answered with a shrug. "Still, I say we live it up, baby! We've earned this!"

He pitched himself backwards and plummeted into the pit below. There was a loud, gooey _splash_before he was immediately overwhelmed by others, cocks being thrust into his muzzle, muzzles being wrapped around his cock and his form disappearing into the hundreds of others that around him.

"Truly this is a time for celebration." Bishop stood beside me, the glowing tattoos all over his body burning like hot coals. "The Woodfather has deemed us all worthy and we will be the first to participate in the first ever ascension ceremony."

"My brothers have ascended before me," I answered curtly.

He rested a hand on my shoulders, his eyes shining with unwavering faith. "Perhaps but this is the first of its kind. You will ascend not just with the first four you turned but with a thousand others! You are paving the way for the future!"

I could not help but chuckle at this. "I suppose you are right."

"Of course I'm right." He nuzzled my neck. "You showed me how wrong I was. When all the wrong is taken from the wrong, there can only be right that's left. I can never thank you enough for that."

He strode towards the end of the platform, spreading his arms wide just like Prime. I was tempted to join him but I wanted to wait for the Woodfather. He jumped forward, diving into the pit and just like Prime, he joined the euphoric cries that rose from the thousand or so celebrants. No one above ground would hear them. This was the secret of the ceremony. No human could simply dive into the pool and join the Woodfather, after all. They needed to be a stag and one that has proved themselves worthy.

Unlike the humans, we understood the delicate balance of nature. We had to give as well as take. We knew when to stop consuming and give humans the moment they needed to rebuild. Our society would eventually take over the entire world but we would do so because the humans were willing. If they encroached upon our territory without permit or attack us, we would retaliate but when the last human was turned into a stag, it would be because they wanted to embrace us as the truth not because we forced it upon them.

I felt Gunner's dick slip between my legs and before I could protest, he flexed that impressive rod of his and lifted me up off the ground. His lid down the length of his pole like a slide and was cushioned against his enormous pectorals. His handsome features peered down upon me, green eyes shining with love and affection.

"Someone's here to see you," he rumbled, his voice echoing through that enormous chest of his.

The Woodfather, in all his glory, padded around Gunner's immense frame and smiled.

"The world will never be the same thanks to what you have done here today, Toby," uttered the majestic deity. "It is time for you..." He rested a hand on Gunner's shoulder. "For all of you, to receive your reward. It is time for you to ascend."

A trumpeting cry erupted from the pit below.

The Woodfather strode forward towards the end of the platform, spreading his four arms wide.

"My children!" he boomed. "Once, you were human." A hush fell on the festivities. "Once, you polluted the land. You took more from nature that what nature could provide. You warped the animals of the wild to become your servants and slaughtered them for food! You carved the land to your desires without care for the harm that it would do! But no more!" He pumped his fists into the air. "You began your journey towards repentance the day that you accepted me as your god. The day you took on my form, you began to cleanse your souls of the sins of being human.

"And today!" he cried with a smile. "Today you have achieved your goal! Today, your souls have been cleansed and today, you are worthy of taking your place by my side! Today, you ascend!"

A riotous cheer rang out from the celebrants and more than a few shot their loads in joy.

"This is the first of many Ascension Ceremonies," the Woodfather continued. He turned to look over his shoulder, turned to look at us. His smile brought pride and joy to my chest. Turning back to the crowd, he said, "Though you have completed your journey into heaven, the path for mankind has just begun. All humans shall be redeemed and this world saved! To a brighter, greener future!"

"Praise the Woodfather!" we all cried.

The Woodfather turned once more to me and gestured that we jump onto his back. Overjoyed, I clung onto Gunner for dear life as the big Rainmaker charged forward and leapt upon the Woodfather's back. With the immense size that he had obtained and his Charger-like stance, the Woodfather easily supported us.

Then, he leapt off the balcony and into the pit below.

To all not in the pit at the time, a great rumbling shook the earth, felt all over the world not as a seismic activity but as a shudder in their very souls. All turned instinctively towards Ferndyllias whether they knew where it was or not. Each and every one of them held their breath, their very souls refusing to move as they were paralysed in fears. Those speeding down highways instinctively slowed and emerged from their cars in anticipation of what was going to come. Politicians who had spent long nights arguing about what to do regarding the 'Stag Pandemic' all fell silent and looked to the skies. Even those secluded in space looked towards Ferndyllias.

A brilliant, green burst of energy erupted from the Father Tree, rocketing upwards in a blistering beam coupled with the unified, ecstatic cries of every person caught within the pit as they simultaneously orgasmed and their souls were freed to join the Woodfather. The Father Trees shook, their branches and roots vibrating with luminescent verdant energies. From space, it looked like a small network of neurons had just lit up. To those on the ground, the beam lit up the entire night sky like it was day for an entire ninety seconds before fading into oblivion.

A deafening silence of five minutes followed when everyone slowly began to breathe again.

And the world continued to turn.

Epilogue

[XD-Drop in T-60 seconds]

[T-59...T-58...T-57...]

[T-56... Will the owner of a yellow Holden Cadillac please --]

[Director: "ALABASTER!"]

---

It was done.

My sons were once again one with me. Every one of my stags were connected and I at the centre of the brilliant star that would shone as the one, true light in this wretched, broken world. Through the religion that Tobias had begun, word of ascension into paradise and immortality would spread to the rest of the world. The great display of the Ascension Ceremony would spread and more would flock to my embrace in time. It would be slow but my nation had been formed. There would be moments of trepidation and no doubt politics would be involved but the lure of power and everlasting life would eventually draw every human to my borders just begging to be transformed.

It was only in human nature.

For now, _Ferndyllias_would be the capital of my domain and soon, my stags would spread past its borders to the rest of the world. Peace, at least for the moment, was assured. I could not have done it without my sons and the brood they had created; the champions of their kind. Perhaps one day I shall have to call upon them again but for now, they deserved their rest.

Standing within the branches of the Grandfather Tree, I peered out into the land that had been reclaimed by nature. This great form that my sons had given me would be of great use. The milk from Vincent would help sustain my children. The immense physique and second pair of arms from Michael would fight off any opposition. Siddarth's quadrupedal stance would keep my grounded. Lastly, the brilliant ethereal, wisps of energy that surrounded me and the luminescent, verdant halo, the gift from Tobias, would cement my position as deity of this world.

All would soon embrace this state as the truth of the world. They would experience my love and realise that their petty squabbles, complex routines and pointless economies would not lead them to happiness. Only by embracing me would they truly be happy.

Yes. My path was far from over but I had won my first victory.

The war had yet to be won.

There would always be resistance. The Unmounted attested to this. The Ascension Ceremony would only fuel their hatred for my kind all the more but as they dove deeper into my realm, so too would they be turned. Curious that what had once been the dominant species were now slowly becoming the prey species. Still, it would not be too hard. This was the first of many steps. I would need to adjust my tactics and my approach when it comes to the other people of the world. This was but a small slice in the greater world, after all. One city was so minuscule compared to the an entire planet.

But my sons have shown me the way.

And I would follow their example.

Until, that is, a sense of... wrongness suddenly invaded my being. It was... a bizarre sensation. Akin to dread but at the same time all-consuming like a void of hunger. My eyes were immediately drawn to the sky. So blissfully pink as the sun was just rising. Perhaps it was nothing. Then again, there was something about that particular patch of sky that just seemed... off. I squinted, shrouding my eyes with a hand and trying to focus on exactly what was... wrong about that patch of pink. There was... was a little filament of blue. Like a bright blue thread was just floating in the air. It was sharp, ragged... almost like a crack.

A high pitched keening suddenly cut through the air. It was loud and sharp. Glass far below in the ruins of man's city shattered and my stags were forced to their knees at the shrill noise. Even I was forced to stagger back and block my ears at the deafening screech. A scintillating blue light suddenly came streaming out of the crack in the sky. The screeching was momentarily broken by the sounds of shattering glass but this was not coming from the ruins below. The thin crack rapidly spread, splitting in a spiderweb of breaks that covered a vast segment of the sky.

The screaming abruptly stopped to bring a deafening hush. I had no time to brace myself as something big and black came charging out of the broken sky. Its eruption into the world unleashed a thunderous shock wave that spread all over the city. It shattered branches of the Grandfather Tree and forced me to take several steps back to retreat. The humans in the city were thrown to the ground. My stags were forced to kneel almost in reverence to this thing. Entire buildings were levelled just from its presence.

It hovered in the air, dark, ominous and at least two kilometres long.

There was no time to take in its alien appearance as that high-pitched screeching returned. Another crack appeared beside the first of the objects and another sprang from the swirling vortex of blue energies that was behind the shattered sky. Though the wound in the stratosphere seemed to heal quickly enough, more and more cracks kept appearing, spawning more and more of these unknown devices until they almost blotted out the sun in its entirety. Hundreds of them appeared.

There was no doubt about the wrongness now.

It had faded and became utter dread.

"What is happening?"

"To put it simply, Woodfather?"

I turned at the voice.

There were suddenly two beings standing in front of me, both of them clearly not of this world.

The one on the right, the one with a wolf's head, grinned at me.

"It's time to meet your Maker."

---

[XD-Drop Complete]

[Operation: Yggdrasil Fallen is a go]

---

---

Central Communications

Central Terminal Active.

Welcome back, Prime Director. Please enter query.

>>Display final analysis of the Woodfather

Processing...

Analysis is as follows.

The Woodfather was once an artificial intelligence designed to govern the trees of a small section of forest in the northern part of the town of Ferndyllias, Ontario, Canada. It was never designed to do more than maintain the existence of said flora until such a time that either the trees no longer existed or the experiment ended and the entire universe was recycled.

Currently, the Woodfather is a Deos-Level Variant that has full control over reality within his domain -- domain being defined as the area of control where his spiritual network is most prominent. Similar to Artificial Intelligences constructed and programmed before the Candy Man Incident, the Woodfather has become manic. The complimentary objectives of conservation and optimisation have compelled him to absorb the consciousnesses of individuals into himself.

The Woodfather has thus reached the Gronsky-Albatter Plateau and has begun the next stage of the Plateau and that leads to the complete absorption and Meta-Unification of all individuals within his domain.

The Woodfather must be terminated immediately.

>>Why did the Woodfather progress down this path if he was developed after the Candy Man Incident?

---

The Woodfather was influenced by MASTER. As MASTER became manic due to its desire to understand all possibilities of evolution and optimise himself to reach the natural, optimal end of all evolution, so too did the Woodfather become corrupted with the twin directives of conservation of his expanding domain and the innate desire to optimise himself.

>>How did MASTER influence the Woodfather if it was destroyed a long time ago?

---

Unknown. Current theory states perhaps MASTER has a fragment of itself in AIs such as the Woodfather, perhaps some legacy code that is somehow naturally drawn to take the same path as MASTER. MASTER is targeting other, smaller AIs and uplifting them to understand his own evolutionary path. It is a compulsive habit for MASTER to start at the smallest, weakest subject in order to understand the paths of evolution. As MASTER's influence must be subtle due to its very nature, it cannot introduce immense, widespread changes into an environment that is often the only way to force evolution onto higher-ranked, apex species. Thus it is very likely that MASTER came to influence the Woodfather through the manipulation of a smaller aspect of his domain. Unfortunately, analysis is still pending on exactly what this change was.

>>Is the Woodfather recoverable?

---

Yes. Unlike MASTER, the Woodfather is fully conscious and very much mortal. He is still capable of learning and understanding. He has displayed means of changing his primary objectives and this is capable of breaking free of his compulsion to conserve and optimise. Whereas once his primary objective was to protect his lands, he next evolved into punishing mankind before turning to spreading his influence and eventually becoming a deity that would properly care for his subjects. Though he reached the same conclusion as MASTER -- to absorb all entities into himself by maintaining his own, dominant consciousness over the amalgamation -- it is nonetheless with benevolent intentions.

It is entirely possible to recover the Woodfather and the lost assets and integrate him into the _Conglomerate_with comparatively little cost.

>>Will MASTER try to reach out to him again?

Unknown. Based on MASTER's previous objectives, the Woodfather would be considered a 'species' that had failed the evolutionary trials and is thus doomed to go extinct. These directives may have changed as with the Woodfather but this is unlikely. The Woodfather's AI was built with adaptive objectives so long as its primary directive remained at the core of its programming. This combined with MASTER's corruption of his primary directive from maintenance to optimization, set the Woodfather on his current path. MASTER was built to adhere to his only directive rigidly albeit with a broader range of abilities than the Woodfather and was designed to push forward while reflecting on failures. It has never shown any penchant for returning to failed experiments to recycle them as is current _Conglomerate_practice.

>>What will happen if the Woodfather goes with R3?

---

Unknown. Unable to pierce into timelines and dimensions outside of Conglomerate jurisdiction.

>>Has R3 done anything else to influence the Woodfather.

---

Negative. The Writer of Reality has, in no way, attempted to influence the Woodfather's mind.

>>Where is MASTER now?

Unknown. Current running theory is that the Woodfather's ability to develop this spiritual network is related to how MASTER first uplifted it. MASTER severed its link to the Woodfather after initial contact and there are traces of it observing the reality and the Woodfather's development. It has since left, however, and tracing it is now impossible. It is possible that MASTER has a more extensive version of this network.

>>Thank you, Central. Log off.

Logging you of, Prime Director.

Operation: Yggdrasil Fallen

It was right out of a science fiction novel. The ships were strange, sleek and hovered in the air despite their immense size. The smallest of them had to be at least a kilometre long and half as wide. They blotted out the sun with more and more of them erupting in burst of bright, blue electrical energies that shattered the sky as if the picturesque sunset were nothing more than glass. Bright blue lines criss-crossed their surfaces giving them an even more bizarre appearance.

But it was not the aliens that had the Woodfather's attention.

It was the two individuals standing right in front of him.

The one on the left was dressed in a black suit with a white shirt beneath. A sable tie was wrapped around his collar. That was where the similarities with a human ended. The creature had a wolf's head, one with black fur and a white jaw. Brown hair stuck out between his two, large, pointed ears and sharp, unforgiving brown eyes stared with a sense of arrogance at the Woodfather. Paw-like hands were wrapped behind hid back just above the long, bushy, black tail that swayed back and forth idly. The Woodfather had never seen anything like him before and yet he had a strange sense of familiarity with the creature.

The one on the right was even stranger. Dressed from head to toe in white and gold armour, the creature had a cloak of stars hanging from around his shoulders. His features were hidden beneath a helm with only dark blue eyes visible beneath the 'T-shaped' helmet that was crowned by three golden points rising straight upwards. A pair of wings made completely out of chains sprung from his back, waving idly in the air like metallic fingers. This creature held a bizarre yet oddly familiar green, leathery book in his hands. From the rest of the creature though, he got a sense of... nothingness.

"And who are you two meant to be?" demanded the deity.

Stags of all types were gathered around him. Each of them was ready to defend their god from these alien intruders.

"I go by many names," said the wolf. "Some call me their Maker. I've been called 'God' from time to time. Others call me 'Creator'. A small sect had opted to call me 'Father'. But you may call me the Director."

The armoured one coughed.

"And this is R3," added the wolf dismissively.

The armoured angel rolled his eyes. "Gee, thanks. After your introduction, that almost seems like a throwaway insult." Those alien, blue eyes with pupils shaped like eight-pointed stars turned towards the Woodfather. "Suffice to say that we're both interested parties in what's happened here."

The Woodfather snored derisively and nodded towards the ominous black ships hovering above them. "And I suppose that is yours?"

R3 gestured at the Director. "His, actually."

"They're here to do a bit of clean-up," added the Director. "And to give me a little bit of leverage in the negotiations to follow."

It was clear that the Director was enjoying this back-and-forth but there was an air of menace and malice about him. Some of the stags were already moving up behind the two. There would be no challenge to converting the two. An immense power emanated from the Director and the Woodfather could not help but wonder what it was. From R3, he received absolutely nothing.

"Clean-up of what?" the Woodfather asked.

"That depends entirely on you," answered the Director.

The two Scouts approaching the Director fell back, clutching their crotches and letting out loud, euphoric screams. Their eyes rolled into the back of their heads and their enormous dicks began spewing seed in powerful jets straight at the wolf. The Woodfather would have smiled if that had been planned but both Scouts immediately fell back, their legs weakening by the sheer amount of pleasure that wracked their bodies. The greenish-white seed that was hurtled toward the Director hit some sort of invisible wall a foot away from the wolf and slid down its length to lie useless and impotent against the branches of the Father Tree. Both the Scouts fell unconscious, tongue falling out of their muzzles and a trail of saliva drooling from their lips.

Hoping to pounce on the moment of distraction, a Synergist lurched towards R3. The knight flicked his free wrist and there was a flurry of bright, pink rose petals from his hand. Suddenly, he was clutching. long rapier with a black pommel and a bright red blade. With an idle flick of his wrist, the Woodfather sensed an incredible power rising from the blade like someone had crushed his soul in a vice. Long black vines with bright, red, glowing thorns erupted from the air and the ground, emerging from swirling pits of darkness and seized the Synergist, holding it in place well before it could reach the armoured king.

"Don't try that again," the Director warned. "Or I swear I'm going to do more than just make your cronies cum themselves into unconsciousness." He nodded towards R3. "And if you're interested, he goes by another name. 'Reaper'. I'll leave the rest to your imagination."

"I see." Clearly these two were not so easily dealt with. If they had spawned from those large, black ships, there was no telling what other creatures of their kind lurked within their bowels. Perhaps these two were just envoys. If their masters were still aboard the ships, he had to tread carefully lest he invoke their wrath. The Woodfather repositioned himself in front of his throne, looming down on the two. "What do you want?"

"I want my property back," answered the Director. "But that's the optimal path in my opinion. I somehow doubt you'll submit to me."

The idea of falling in line behind this whelp utterly revolted the Woodfather. "And why would I submit to you?"

"Perhaps we should start from the beginning," began R3, waving a hand. "Woodfather, have you ever wondered how you were created?"

The Woodfather paused at the question. "I --"

"Let's not go along the verbose path that you always go on," the Director interrupted. "I_created you. Or rather you were created by my company, the _Nexus Conglomerate. You've never heard of us because you were meant to be nothing more than a self-sufficient artificial intelligence built to maintain a little patch of grass in this big, big universe. And yes, we created the entire universe as well. This place was meant to be a control group for an experiment run on a different universe. You were only meant to last three years."

Those words again gave the Woodfather pause. A whole two minutes passed before he could fully process each and every one. His reaction was to throw his head back and laugh. The rest of his stags echoed his sentiments.

"You must be joking. You expect me to believe that you created this entire universe? That I am nothing more than some computer program to you?"

"Conglomerate_AIs are more than _computer programs," scoffed the Director. "The term is artificial intelligence not computerised intelligence. We create actual people not programs."

"Something you should learn, Woodfather," R3 said patiently. "No matter how powerful you get, there will always be someone bigger and stronger than you. The Conglomerate performs countless experiments and created universes to test all the variables of said experiments. You were part of one such testing cycle. However, the interference of another party drastically altered you and made you into what you are now."

The Woodfather's lips curled upwards. "Indeed. Mankind had defiled my woods for too long. I sought to bring judgement to them."

"So you say. But what led you to this conclusion?" asked R3. "What was the trigger that made you decide this?"

There, the god of _Ferndyllias_had to pause. "I had just had enough."

"So you're telling me that in the countless millennia of your supposed existence, in all the years that mankind has existed, you just spontaneously decided that about eight months ago is the moment you decided enough was enough and you'll go and judge all mankind for being guilty?"

A frown crossed his lips. "There were simply too many transgressions..."

"Can you name them?"

The Woodfather balked at the question. "What?"

"Can you name those transgressions exactly?"

He was incredulous at the questioning. "You simply have to look around yourself to see the destruction they've cause. They've polluted the air. Chopped down countless woodlands. Deprived the animals of their homes and shelter! They hunt and domesticate the wild beasts to be eaten or just for sport!"

"Right. But you've supposedly endured this for eons. Why now? Why did you just suddenly decide to attack out of the blue?"

To that... the Woodfather could not answer.

"So how about we address further inconsistencies within this universe," continued R3. "Everyone here is born, correct?"

"Of course. They could not just be created as you postulate."

"Uh-huh. So where are the females?"

A sound like glass shattering rung out in he Woodfather's soul. He quickly examined each and every one of the souls under his domain. All of them had memories of mothers and yet... where were they all? In the entirety of Ferndyllias, in the months since his emergence, he had, not _once_found a single human female.

"I do not know how to answer that..." he uttered.

"Exactly. Not once up until this point has anyone even_questioned_ the lack of women." R3 held up an armoured finger. "Point number two, does anyone else actually remember anything beyond general facts past about a year ago?"

To that, the Woodfather could easily say, "Of course! I still remember everything in vivid clarity over the millennia that I have existed. We all share in one another's memories!"

"Do you really?" R3 asked, leaning forward slightly. "Think about it. Think about the minute details. Siddarth, what exactly did he do to piss off his dad so much that he was effectively disowned? What gym did Michael go to every day? What was Vincent's favourite food? Why did Tobias start colouring his hair blonde?"

Now that he had merged completely with his sons once more, that information should've been readily available. But as the Woodfather looked, he only found blanks and unknowns. There was just general knowledge of those events but no specifics.

"This was only meant to be a three-year experiment," explained the armoured man. "Things like that were never fully integrated." He cast the Director a scathing look. "Due to costs."

"Hey, you've_never created realities before," countered the wolf. "You just mess with it. It's why you're a _Writer of Reality not creator."

"Uh-huh." R3 turned back to the Woodfather. "Are you seeing how these holes don't make much sense? No one has been born since the experiment started. Though people boast about their girlfriends, where are the actual girls? Honestly, I'm surprised society already collapsed."

"There was another AI that was responsible for suspending disbelief," answered the Director.

"What did I say about the fourth-wall jokes?"

"Whatever." The Director shook his head impatiently. "This is getting us nowhere." He stared directly at the Woodfather. "Fact of the matter is, we're here to make you an offer." He pointed upwards at the ships hovering above them. "You're a threat, Woodfather. Whether or not you believe that I created you or not is besides the point. We're here now. You've had a taste of what we can do. I could annihilate you without blinking. Wouldn't take more than a snap of my finger. My fleet and the army can bear down upon your little nation and purge everyone here with ease. Would take about a month to destroy the rest of reality but that's something else."

"A month? Really?" R3 scoffed. "I thought all you had to do was drag the file into the Recycling Bin, right click and hit 'Empty Trash'."

"Don't forget I would have to hit that annoying pop-up message that asks if I really want to delete the file because it's irreversible."

"True. That'd take you a month?"

"I have a _lot_on my plate."

Ignoring their banter, the Woodfather snarled an interruption, "What is stopping you?"

A dark smile touched the Director's lips. "Opportunity."

That was thus far the most ominous thing the Director has said.

"What do you mean?"

The wolf began pacing around the small circle of stags around him. When he approach the pools of cum that had formed, the goo parted from where his polished shoes touched as if they were afraid of touching him.

"The path of your development, your abilities and the Variants you created are all rather spectacular. Crude and rough but spectacular nonetheless. I am interested in further developing them to become better and less prone to..." His eyes fell critically on the two Scouts that were still lying unconscious. "... explosive failures. But I figure, why hire more people, train them in the history of these Variants and spend money to get them up to speed when I have the resources right here who are already experts in the subject matter? So I have a proposal for you."

He whirled around to face the Woodfather, holding out a paw. "Join me as a full-time member of the Nexus Conglomerate. You will have access akin to a Project Lead and free reign to do as you please. An entire universe, this entire universe, will be your playground to do with which whatever you please. Turn every last human into a stag, reset everyone so that they always started out as stags, create other worlds, populate them so you can take your pandemic to galactic levels and different environments or maybe just turn this planet into a regular Garden of Eden for the purposes of stroking your own ego. I don't really care. However, in exchange I'd have some of my troops visit here and adopt your unique mutations for use out in the field."

The Woodfather cocked an eyebrow. The Director was offering a sort of exchange of knowledge. Already, he wondered if he could bring in some of the Director's soldiers into the network. Perhaps there was a way to overcome even this egotistical lupine if he could worm him way through the ranks of the Conglomerate.

The suited wolf lowered his paw. "I know what you're thinking. Would it be possible to seize the Conglomerate_for your own." The wolf's smile was sinister but at the same time pleased. "I admire your ambition. You might eventually rise to the rank of a Dimensional Director and maybe get to retire but before that, you must adhere to _Conglomerate regulations and rules."

"And what are these regulations and rules, exactly?" snarled the Woodfather.

"First of all, no influencing the imagination and individuality of those around you. Secondly..." He pointed accusingly at the Woodfather. "No absorbing them entirely into yourself while utterly negating their existence to your own benefit."

That was the last insult the Director threw at him. "You dare!? I have done no such thing!"

The Director turned to R3, one eyebrow raised.

"_Unfortunately..._you have," answered the armoured knight. "When you think about it, Woodfather, you've basically brainwashed each and every person in your domain to follow your particular doctrine. You've bound them to worship of you mostly against their will and twisted their personalities to a particular archetype. Take the Lumbered for example. Every Lumbered you've created has been reprogrammed to this 'frat boy' mentality. Synergists never speak, Amalgams purposefully have parts of their personalities destroyed so that they're compatible with their partner. Milkmen become obsessed with being milked. Scouts are bestial and primal. Chargers are perpetual angry. So far and so on. How can you expect people to be who they are when you're imposing these personalities upon them?"

"And let's not forget the fact that you're just going to absorb them all into yourself anyway," the Director accused. "Protest as much as you want but you know you haven't merged with your 'sons'. You _absorbed_them. You have their memories and their strengths, but you don't have their personalities in you. You, the Woodfather, are still the dominant personality. You haven't changed. You _killed_them."

The mighty stag god snarled. "Blasphemy! Why must I adhere to your rules? Why must I lower my form of ascension to _your_definitions!?"

"Because I created you!" shouted the Director.

R3 stepped in between them, holding his hands up. "Let's not go down this path again." The bizarre angel turned back to the Woodfather. "Knowing this, Woodfather, can you honestly feel that is what you want? I know you've come to the conclusion that absorbing everyone into yourself is the ultimate sign of your love but can you honestly say that you will not regret the missed opportunities of each of these individual souls?"

The Woodfather calmed slightly but he still stared daggers at the Director. "What do you mean?"

R3 regarded the book in his palms. "Would it interest you to know that had you not absorbed Vincent entirely, he would have travelled to France. There, he would have used his Seasoned, Milkmen and Scouts to bring a culinary revolution to the world and transformed people into stags after eating his food? Michael would have travelled down to California and drawn the eye of countless bodybuilders and even if he was stag, he would have worked in secret behind the scenes at the professional circuit. He would have a 'ranch' in the farmlands where he would develop supplements that would be distributed all over the world to bring bodybuilders to him and turn them. Siddarth would have travelled down to Brazil and revived the Amazon with his powers. The entirety of the continent would have been a primal wilderness. Tobias would have travelled to Asia where he would spread faith in you and bring in so many converts that your church would become the dominant religion in just a few years. Each of them would have developed individually and had plenty of opportunities to grow. But now that you've fully absorbed them, they are deprived of that opportunity."

"So?" the Woodfather countered defensively. "I could just easily recreate them. I am god here!"

"But it wouldn't be the same," said R3 sorrowfully. "You will know what you've done."

There was truth in that. The pang of guilt hit him. Had he really deprived his sons of a future in a moment of lust and misguided benevolence? No! This was just all a trick.

"I see what you're doing," he snarled. "Trying to manipulate my emotions. Clever but it will not work!"

The Director stepped past the Writer of Reality. "I don't really care what you think but taking away your subordinates' free will and their opportunities to do something with their lives is unacceptable. Each and every person in existence has a chance to bring something new to the world." He gave his companion a brief glance. "On that, we agree on." His eyes shifted back to the Woodfather. "What you've done is unforgivable."

"Who are you to judge or even care?"

"I care_because each of your _sons were able to create three different Variants when given a modicum of free will. Imagine if those Variants had free will of their own and all the other Variants and situations they could create! I mean, seriously! There are over six billion people in this world. Each of those six billion could be a Variant in their own right! R3, tell him the other Variants that could've been."

The Writer flinched. "What makes you think I have a list?" The Director just gave him a silent, exasperated stare and he sighed. "Fine..." He leafed through the book in his hand. "The Gardener. The Woodworker. The Weed. The Leaflet. The Mounted. The --"

"Enough!" bellowed the Woodfather. "Enough..." he repeated in a softer whisper. "Make your cases. I will consider them."

The Director cleared his throat. "You know my first offer. Join us and have the free reign to do as you please with the occasional directives from either myself or a supervising director. I won't undo anything you've done. You'll have to live with the guilt of the opportunities you've already lost. But I'll help restore the mind of the others you've changed. They aren't too far gone. You can have this world but you report directly to the _Conglomerate_and will adhere to our laws so this doesn't happen again."

"And your other offer?"

The wolf pointed straight up. "Complete and utter annihilation."

The Woodfather scowled. "Hypocrite. You say you value individuality and yet you would kill us all for that?"

"As far as I'm concerned, you aren't an 'all'. You're just a one. A single entity with multiple bodies just itching to absorb all said bodies back to himself in the name of some twisted 'love'." The Director spat the last word. "There are only fragments of the individual left behind in each of these shells. Shadows. Not unrecoverable but still barely worth the effort to restore them without your guarantee and cooperation that they won't be turned into mindless slaves. You even took away their names." He shook his head. "No. They are not worth the aggravation and maintenance of this entire universe if all they're here for is your sick pleasure. I'd rather have them and you destroyed should you decide not to cooperate. It'd be a mercy."

The Woodfather's hands tightened into fists. "We will fight you."

A dark smile touched the wolf's lips. "It's wouldn't be much of a fight."

R3 suddenly stepped forward. "There is a third option."

The Director rolled his eyes. "You and your threes."

Ignoring him, R3 said, "I have a certain ability, Woodfather. I can take you and you kind off into other realities, other dimensions, other stories. You will all have new lives. New bodies. New worlds. New relationships. New memories. In effect, you will be reincarnated."

To that, the Woodfather slowly eased his aggression. "And why would I want that?"

"Firstly, you would be separate from the Conglomerate so you will not be under their jurisdiction. If you want to merge your loved ones into yourself again, that's fine, but that will only come about if they decide to connect their tales with yours. There's even the chance that should you complete your story and become the best version of yourself, then you will be able to earn the right to write your own tale."

"Meaning."

"It means you can become the god you postulate yourself to be," snorted the Director. "You can create your own universe and do with it whatever you please." He pointed a finger at R3. "What he's not telling you is that you and everyone you've touched will go at it without your memories. Your 'souls' will remember but you could be 'reset' an infinite number of times, going through the pain and torture of life and its trials for all eternity until you reach that 'best version' of yourself. Each time, you'll be born and die, never the same in any instance. At the end of it, you might even get obliterated anyway."

The Woodfather's eyes narrowed dangerously. "So it's a gamble."

R3 bobbed his head from side to side. "It's a fresh start of a new life and life is always a gamble."

"What of my sons?"

"They will _all_get their chance."

"How when I have absorbed them?"

A chill ran down the Woodfather's spine and though he could not see the Writer's smile, he had the odd sensation that the white-armoured angel was grinning at him. "I have some tricks. Let's leave it at that."

"And I can be with them in the end?"

"If you and they so choose. There is no guarantee. You do remember that they initially met you with fear and aggression, right? I can't say for sure if they will be by your side when your story ends but at the very least, they will have a chance an actual life outside of the fabricated one of this dimension."

The Woodfather huffed. The weight of these choices fell on his shoulders and he slumped back down into his throne. He stared at the two in front of him and the ships looming over them. One offered servitude but a degree of freedom, the other utter annihilation and the third a fresh start but at a risk.

Countless lives rested on his decision.

His hand went to his chest, just over his heart and the soul residing within.

This was no easy decision.

But it was his decision.

"I have made my choice."

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