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_WARNING: Extreme Content inside this chapter. _

_I'm finally ready to share another chapter. Another long one, and one of the most ferocious and disturbing of all. Tons of sex, violence, destruction, abortion. If you have followed the story up to this point, you know what to expect... at least in part. I hope you can enjoy it all. We are getting close to the great finale, and i've already started working on chapter 99. Stay with me to the end, and feel encouraged to share your thoughts and comments. They are very important. As always, do enjoy the wild ride. ** ** _

When a Monster rises, unfathomably powerful, limitless and reckless, the End of Times draws nearer. The Mother that carries him into the world is deluded. She thinks that It can be controlled, that It can be exploited. Mother and Son, both monsters, both endlessly lusting for power. Both seeing each other not with affection, but with cruel hunger. They will consume each other and everything caught in between. Unless the Father puts things right. Because when the Monster's power dwarfs all others...

Chapter 98 -** Only a Monster can slay a Monster **

Something clanged against the hull, outside, and many heads looked up with eyes that were wide-open and reddened by tension and lack of sleep. Many others, at that point, didn't even bother anymore, only looking down at the metallic floor, breathing quietly and just... waiting. Some of them still prayed, others had fallen into resigned, sad silence. Every time that something clanged against the hull of the Audacious, they were reminded that the enemy was out there, dragging their submarine around thanks to a number of small but powerful submersibles armed with mighty mechanical arms. They had no way to defend themselves from those machines, and they were painfully aware that, in any moment, the enemy could have planted explosive charges on the Audacious, or literally drilled holes through the casing and the pressure hull, dooming them all. Every noise coming through the hull was potentially the last thing they would ever hear. There was no way to know what the enemy was doing.

At first they had tried to get away, maneuvering directly from the machinery room, working directly with the powerful pump jet and with the actuators of the Audacious's X-planes. It was awkward and less accurate than maneuvering through the actual commands of the submarine, but they had done their best to quickly and decisively damage said controls before retreating away from the control room, which the enemy had assaulted in force and rapidly conquered.

With the control panels destroyed, the enemy had little to no use for the room and no chance to maneuver it or, worse, to shut down the oxygen generation system to suffocate them all. Galen had hoped to somehow maneuver away from the submersible troop transports and put some distance between them and the Sentence. If they could do that, perhaps they could also counterattack and overwhelm the soldiers and assault robots that had come onboard, clawing back control of the Audacious...

But in the deep, Galen and Sandy had always known that the hopes of success were effectively inexistent, and, in spite of their best endeavors, the enemy had rapidly made clear that no escape was going to be allowed. The submersible assault boats that had arrived from the Sentence had connected firmly with the Audacious's hull and had started working as outboard engines of sort, towing the damage submarine inexorably back towards their mothership. And when Galen had insisted, using the sheer power of the Audacious's propulsion system to try and break away, one or more of the RA's mini-submarines had moved up to the tail of the submarine and had used their mechanical arms to literally grab the X-planes and bend them from outside, forcing the Audacious into turning back towards the Sentence every time it tried to get away. Galen had tried to use raw power to overwhelm the RA's mini-submarines, at one point crawling into the very tail of the Audacious and adding his tremendous physical strength to that of the massive actuators, but after several hours of heroic struggle, he had been forced to admit that there just wasn't a way to win that fight.

There was nothing else they could do. The enemy had connected its assault pods to all emergency hatches leading out of the submarine, and even if they hadn't, they were way too deeply submerged to get out. The escape suites offered some protection from the cold and from the pressure, but not enough for them to reach the surface alive. The enemy had conquered over two-thirds of the submarine, but Galen and Sandy had made sure to maintain the only third that, in that moment, truly mattered. Until the nuclear reactor and the main machinery spaces were in their hands, they could at least be certain that the enemy would not be able to cut off the oxygen supply or kill them all with poison gas.

Not that the RA hadn't tried, of course. Their shock troops had used breaching charges to blow open the watertight hatches at either end of the narrow tunnel that went right through the otherwise completely sealed reactor compartment, and they had hurled a great number of gas, smoke and Flashbang grenades to try and incapacitate all defenders. It was to be expected, of course: the RA could only advance through that narrow tunnel in which two persons could pass at once only by moving sideways. It made their superiority in numbers and firepower completely pointless as they could simply not exploit it. The defenders only needed to spray bullets blindly down the shaft, and the attackers would be hit for certain.

The RA assault had been ferocious: heavily armoured combat robots, carrying huge shields and armed with multi-barrel grenade launchers and Gatling machine guns on their shoulders, had repeatedly advanced down the narrow corridor, endlessly vomiting bullets and grenades to try and drive the defenders back. Large contingents of shock troops followed behind the heavy shields, clearly determined to invade the machinery compartments and capture the survivors. Or, more likely, just a few of them, the "high value" ones. The RA had clearly decided that some of the men on board the Audacious were so valuable that they had to be taken alive, otherwise they would have just blown the submarine into bits. Galen, who had literally grown up with the tales of Sandy's extraordinary exploits at sea, had suggested that the RA probably had learned of the presence on board of the legendary admiral Hawkwood and wanted to capture him alive. Sandy himself, however, had dismissed the idea with a snort of amusement and then reminded Galen and Sebastian that, given who their father was, they were far more likely to be the target. Whatever the truth, there was general consensus that their trio was most likely what the RA truly craved. The thought of what the RA might do to them if it managed to capture them alive was fearsome, but Galen and the others would have nonetheless been willing to hand themselves in all the same, had it meant safety for the rest of that gallant, wonderful crew. Nobody believed, however, that the RA would spare any of the "expendables".

When the RA had warned that surrender was the only sensible decision, Galen had leaned back against the bulkhead, grinned and turned slightly towards the smoldering, shattered hatch, teasingly replying: "We are terribly sorry, but we don't have adequate facilities to take you all prisoners. I'm afraid we must refuse your surrender."

The RA hadn't taken kindly to the joke, and had pushed its combat robots forwards, sending them charging right into the machinery room. Their charge, however, had crashed against Galen's strength like a wave against a cliff. They made a whole lot of noise and put up quite a spectacle, but they ultimately burst apart in a million pieces. The shock troops had hurriedly retreated after the hulking tiger had grabbed their assault robot and bare-handedly torn it in two like it was made of rags, allowing Sebastian to step forwards and unleash a hurricane of bullets from two machine guns that he handled as if they were two small pistols.

The RA had tried again, and again, and again, knowing that the Audacious's crew could not sustain the fight forever, especially since Galen was already seriously wounded. The sailors under siege did not have any genuinely heavy weapon at their disposal, and couldn't do much against the RA's heavily armoured assault bots. Galen and Sebastian were the "anti-armour" team by virtue of their monstrous physical strength, unmistakable reminder of the fact that Killer was their father; but every time they wrestled against the mighty robots they had to expose themselves and ended up wounded.

Every few minutes, the RA threw a few new gas grenades into the narrow passageway, and the thick toxic clouds spiraled into the machinery rooms, cramming every corner and nook, forming a thick, ugly fog so dense that it almost obscured the lights. Smoke grenades were also repeatedly thrown in, rising curtains of colored fog that made it impossible to see far past the reach of one arm, at most.

That tormenting, never-ending assault forced the survivors of the Audacious's crew into constantly wearing the bulky, uncomfortable protective suites and the breathing masks, with the tubes plugged directly into the submarine's oxygen supply line. Wearing the heavy rubber suits was a torture, but several of the crew members had it even worse because there weren't enough suites for everyone, and the enemy, perhaps imagining it, was using gases that burned and ulcerated the skin, consumed the flesh, ruined muscle and tissue. They were all less-than-lethal products, but they generated such pain and torment that most people begged for relief very, very quickly.

The RA naturally made vast use of nerve agents as well, which caused constriction of pupils, painful chest tightness, convulsions, uncontrollable salivation and the violent contraction of muscles, generating paralysis and causing involuntary urination and defecation. The RA was sinisterly adept at using doses which brought the victims very close to death... but never quite to it.

Every crew member who had secured a suit was more than willing to give it up, or at least to take turns; everything it took to ensure that everyone would have at least some protection... and the ungrateful task of explaining how crazy and counterproductive that idea was, fell on the ship's medic. The poor official valiantly fought to make the rest of the crew understand that if they took turns, they would all get sick weak and ultimately incapacitated, if not dead... and once that fact was finally accepted, he had to go through yet another struggle, because every member of the crew insisted to give up his suit in favor of another, with the result that nobody was donning it up. In the end, those who were wounded or simply less physically and technically ready for combat had given up their protective suits in favor of those who could still stand and fight. Everyone without a suit had been sent as far back as possible, at the very end of the Audacious's hull, as far away as possible from the gas clouds coming in through the reactor compartment.

Once he was done, the medic sat down in a corner and took his head in his hands, crying silently. He was not equipped to help his shipmates poisoned by the gases, and he felt horribly guilty about everything. Despite having been the voice of reason up to that point, he desperately tried to give up his suit to save one of the others, and Galen had been forced to very vehemently remind him that they needed his services now more than ever before, and he couldn't "be so selfish to just let himself die". Put in those terms, Galen's order had been immediately accepted.

The captain himself, however, despite being already badly wounded by the grenade he had covered with his hulking body; and despite being indispensable to deal with the armoured bots, had made sure to give his suit away. The toxic smoke made his wounds sizzle and bubble with the violent infection, while the nerve agent caused his massive musculature to spasm visibly, yet he refused to let out cries of pain. He just stoically stood near the hatch to the reactor compartment, armed with two heavy machine guns and with long belts of ammunition crossing his exposed, bloody chest and back. The crew had desperately attempted to convince him to wear the protective garments, but the young captain had gently but inexorably refused, once more claiming that being the son of God came with advantages. He claimed to be too strong for the RA's poisons to ever be able to incapacitate him, but even though his resistance was proving truly astounding, the medic would have never supported his claim. Sandy himself had tried to insist and get him to be reasonable, but Galen had playfully, yet very seriously, remarked that he was by far the strongest on board the Audacious and he was not going to allow anyone to boss him around. That had de facto concluded the discussion.

The Audacious's crew had been a tight-knight team at the start of that mission, which went well beyond the adjective "daring" and bordered well into the crazy side, but after everything that had happened it had turned into a real family. A suffering family, but a defiant one which absolutely refused to give up the ship and the hope in an eleventh hour's miracle.

After so many hours of desperate tension, huddled together in the toxic fog, listening to every noise with the awareness that the RA could sink them in any moment, the family had turned silent, and the faces were pale and warped by the stress, the exhaustion, the fear and the horror at the sight of the suffering, poisoned shipmates paralyzed by the gas and slowly, painfully stumbling on the edge of death, struggling to get a few weak breaths in while their lungs and hearts became stiff.

Why were they even still alive? The RA could have obliterated them many times in the past several hours, but instead seemed to play with them. The Audacious had been dragged across the ocean for many miles, and nobody could tell where the RA was bringing them. Galen and Sandy and Sebastian had done their best to keep track of the Audacious's course until it had been possible at all, but once the RA mini-submarines had completely taken control from the outside, the task had become much more complex.

The interruptions were frequent. Whenever the RA forces threw smoke grenades in the passageway, Galen, Sebastian, Sandy and the other armed members of the crew were forced to take position at the hatch, ready to fight back the new assault. Sometimes, though, the smoke grenades were not followed by any RA move: they were a mere disturb, a simple form of psychological warfare. When the assaults followed, however, they resulted in ferocious firefights that were rapidly exhausting the ammunitions they had been able to carry out of the ship's storerooms.

Galen slumped a bit along the bulkhead, which was uncomfortably slick, warm and sticky. He didn't need to look to know that it was because of the blood that coated it. A good bit of that blood was his own, even though his wounds were visibly attempting to close up and heal. Tigers had always benefitted some extraordinarily good vitality, resilience and healing factor, but his regeneration was clearly a gift that came from his father. For many hours now he had stood and fought into clouds of toxic gas and nerve agent, yet he was just sore and numb rather than incapacitated and agonizing. The machines guns in his hands felt a lot heavier than they had a few hours earlier, but not enough to truly be a problem yet. Pieces of the last robot he had ripped apart were strewn messily on the floor all around him, and he had messily piled up the broken hulks to form a sort of barrier at the hatch, making it that much harder for the RA to push through.

Sebastian stood nearby, leaning against the same bulkhead, separated from him only by the narrow hatch. He was clad in a yellow NBC rubber suit and the mask with respirator kept most of his features hidden, but when their eyes met, he nodded in reassurance. He still had a couple of long belts of ammunition for his own machine gun, and he had even scavenged a couple of frag grenades from one of the RA troopers than he had earlier caught by the neck, hefted off the ground and smacked into the bulkhead hard enough to crunch his skull into pulp. The dead soldier was still there, crumpled against the wall, his head grotesquely flattened, the burned-out remains of his Spirit device visible through crimson pulp.

Sandy looked up from where he was sat, on the floor, cradling an RA rifle in his lap and sorting clips and bullets also captured from the enemy: he had fired the last round from his rifle several hours earlier, and had thrown the now useless weapon down the narrow corridor, no doubt surprising the RA troopers that were attempting to push through. The admiral was visibly exhausted, but his eyes betrayed almost no fear at all, almost no doubt or concern at all, as if he knew exactly what was about to happen. The other members of the crew looked at him for example and for reassurance, and Galen couldn't help but wonder how his own eyes looked through the glass of his respirator mask. He could only hope they resembled Sandy's. That was real leadership in action.

The admiral had his back to the wall and was well clear of the RA's field of view: in the last few hours it had become impossible to move from one side of the room to the other, because at least two RA snipers had taken position at the other end of the narrow tunnel, probably one in each corner, to have the largest possible field of fire through the small door. Four hours earlier, maybe, a bullet fired from a sniper rifle had sailed down the corridor, nicked the edge of the hatch's frame and shattered the head of one of the sailors, sending his brain splattering against the bulkhead. All other sailors of the Audacious had hurriedly retreated towards the opposite walls and flattened themselves against them, making themselves as small and invisible as possible, and they had also rigged up a few of the shields that had belonged to the destroyed RA robots. With those, they had formed some bulletproof barriers, and Sandy was half-hidden behind one of those. Others had sought refuge behind the large auxiliary diesel engines, or the enormous cylinder of the electric motor that, with minimal noise and vibration, transferred the reactor-generated power to the single shaftline. It was part of the technological marvels that made the Audacious so silent and hard to detect. Galen made a grimace as he looked at the large bullet holes in the electric motor's casing, and the dents torn even into the massive shaft of high-resistance steel. He had been given command of one of the newest and most capable submarines in the whole fleet, and now he was hiding in the machinery spaces while the enemy sat in his control room and even, literally, in his small bedroom. It made him feel useless... and, at the same time, furious like he had rarely been in his life.

"You are an idiot, you know that...?" Sandy said, speaking in a gentle tone that even the respirator mask couldn't warp enough to make it sound like an actual insult.

"Yeah, I know. I've allowed a bunch of pirates to board my goddamn submarine." Galen moodily replied, but the admiral shook his head and sighed in exasperation, before pointing a finger at the young male's bloodied, devastated chest. "No, numbskull, it's not that. It's your idiotic attempt to get yourself killed. Are you allergic to rubber, or just a complete fool?"

"One thing I picked up from my father is that I never wear the rubber." Galen replied, before grinning in mock pride at its own joke. Sebastian and a few others laughed quietly at that, but it was short lived. The horrendous sound of strained, violent coughing coming from the very last compartment, behind them, killed off any residual entertainment. Their injured shipmates had retreated into a space normally not even meant to be inhabited, and were now squeezed tightly together between the colossal actuators that moved the X-planes of the Audacious. Even there, however, they could no longer escape the poisonous gas, as the firefights had damaged the watertight hatches and opened small but dangerous breaches. It was hard to stay positive and reactive after sitting for so many hours on cold metal, in narrow and noisy spaces, in the almost complete darkness as, of course, they had cut off electricity to the entire vessel, in order to make things as hard as possible for the RA. The sound of their breathing through the masks was a constant, unpleasant sound filling their ears and their bodies were either ulcerated, sore and semi-paralyzed if they hadn't the NBC suit; or sweaty and numb if they had. The only good part about having to breathe pure oxygen from the masks was they were spared the pestilent smell that no doubt filled the whole room, coming from the corpses, the toxic gases and from piss and feces. Their dark, smelly inferno was a sinister grotto full of buzzing machinery, with cables and tubes everywhere and with bullet cases and loose shrapnel covering the floor almost from one end of the room to the other.

Something clanged loudly in the crew corridor, beyond the tunnel and the airlock, in the direction of the control room, and Galen slammed his fist against the bulkhead and roared: "Be quiet, you bunch of idiots! This is a submarine! Being silent is our pride!"

The submarines in the room nodded in agreement, and some added their own comments. One of them barked: "Don't you dare touching my stuff!" It was a strange how, even when they had to deal with far more tragic things, they felt so disturbed by the fact that the enemy wandered the accommodation spaces, free to loot their bunks... their almost coffin-sized corners of intimacy, the only bit of personal space available on a submarine. There were several grunts of agreement with that shout, but again the silence settled in very quickly as their hands nervously clutched the assault rifles, pistols and weapons of opportunity picked up from dead RA troopers. They all knew that the metallic noise had probably been caused by another assault robot being lowered through the airlock hatch. It meant that the RA would soon attack once more.

Galen and Sebastian checked their machine guns, and yanked back the arming levers, loudly preparing them for fire, and the other armed submarines picked themselves up and carefully crawled in position behind the shields and the shattered robots remaining from the earlier attacks.

"Don't waste ammo. Wait for a clean shot, go for a double-tap, and don't expose yourselves." Sandy reminded, looking everyone in the eyes and transmitting that amazing, unshakeable confidence that only he knew how to simulate. In the deep, he was just as scared and exhausted as all of them, but if he could carry on so well, surely they all had to follow.

Shadows moved at the other end of the tunnel, and some of the submariners trailed their rifles against them, tempted to take a shot, but both Galen and the admiral glared down at them and they did not dare disappointing any of the two.

"As soon as I manage to rip their shields off, give em'Hell." Galen urged, although there was no real need to. There was another long moment of sinister silence, and then someone barked: "You know all too well that there is nowhere to go, and nothing you can do to get your submarine back. You are only delaying the inevitable. But the Raja Alliance knows how to be reasonable. Surrender and hand over the spawn of Killer. Hand us the sons of the emperor, and we will spare your lives."

"That's God to you, vermin!" Galen roared, before sighing tiredly, looking at his crew, at his valiant shipmates. He and Sebastian traded a gaze, and the sonar specialist nodded in silent consent.

"If you want, we are ready to turn ourselves in." Galen quietly announced, but a growl of protest immediately came from the crew. Someone shouted no, others added that they were going to complete their mission together. Others remarked that, no matter what the RA said, their word couldn't be trusted.

"The RA doesn't have a good track record. They know no honor and no loyalty. Everything they do is concealed behind a screen of lies. I don't see why we should believe them now." Sandy calmly said, and the submarines slammed their fists on their chests and roared their approval. One of the non-commissioned officers ultimately voiced the Audacious's answer on behalf of the whole crew: "Fuck you!"

"Very well. You won't be offered another chance." The RA officer venomously replied, only for Galen to loudly blow a raspberry in response.

And then, all of a sudden, an incredibly powerful floodlight was turned on, projecting a beam of blinding white down the tunnel and flooding the machinery room, instantaneously screwing everyone's vision. The submarines ducked behind the shields and shut their eyes, desperately trying to get back some vision as tears streaked down their cheeks. Silenced shots came from the RA snipers, and the bullets smashed into the shields with such violence that the heavy metal plates dented inwards and the back of the shields broke into fragments that pelted the crew members like shrapnel. Several of the shields were knocked them back onto the sailors, and when one of them blindly reached up to grab into the edge and push the shield back up, the RA's sniper blew his fingers into pulp with a well aimed bullet.

The shrieks of agony filled the room as the young submariner fell back onto the floor, grabbing his devastated hand and staring at it with wide-open eyes as phosphorous fire burned into the wounds and threatened to consume his whole hand. The medic immediately crawled forwards on all fours to offer what little assistance he could... which involved tackling the sailor down and scraping the ugly wound clean by using a knife: pouring water on the burning white phosphorous would have been entirely pointless.

The metallic walls all around them simply seemed to explode as a great number of rifles and even Gatling guns opened fire and unleashed literal torrents of bullets that slammed violently into the machinery and bulkheads, splintering and sending fragments of metal bursting out in every direction, together with splatters of chemical fire as they poured white phosphorous with every impact.

The noise was terrifying as metal clanged against metal, and the submariners were forced to crawl away from the walls and the machinery, trying to stay as far as possible from the small but devastating splatters of chemical fire. Galen watched on in horror as his shipmates struggled to hold up the shields as they were literally deformed by the weight of firepower hammering into them. Shrieks came from the huddled sailors whenever a bullet found an opening between a shield and another, or when drops of white phosphorous rained down on them and immediately stuck to cloth and skin, burning ferociously, digging into the flesh, all the way down to the bone.

The captain gaped in horror at that, desperately trying to think of something... but the only thing he could do was ignore the orders that he himself had originally formulated, and push one of his machine guns past the corner, howling in rage and fear combined as he unleashed a wild, blind burst of armor-piercing rounds down the tunnel. The violence of the RA's barrage was such that a couple of bullets caught the machine gun and knocked it violently back, making him groan in pain as his fingers were snapped painfully back... and other bullets, incandescent and merciless, grazed his elbow and ripped off one of his fingers, making him snarl in anguish as he hurried pulled his weapon back.

The barrel had a deep, glowing nick in it, and the body of the machine gun was also dented and coated in sticky, burning phosphorous, and Galen wasn't even sure it was still able to work. He trembled slightly as he looked down at his bloodied, burned hand, seeing that his third finger was almost completely gone, with the shattered bone poking out of his sizzling flesh. He did his best to repress the cry of pain that pushed to break out of his throat, and closed his eyes instead as he heard the by now familiar dull clang of a grenade landing on the metallic floor. It bounced up slightly and exploded, producing a deafening bang that made him wince as his skull throbbed violently, feeling like it would break in two. The flash of light was so intense that it blinded him even though he had shut them tightly... and as several other Flashbangs exploded in rapid succession, he found himself stumbling slightly away from the bulkhead despite his best attempts not to. Another couple of grenades clanged on the floor, and they immediately started pouring out toxic gas and smoke in huge clouds that rapidly filled up the compartment. Galen cursed under his breath and blindly sought contact with the wall, trying to make sure he was still behind cover as the loud impacts of bullets against metal filled his ears, rivaling the deafening whistle caused by the Flashbang's pressure wave. He hissed in pain as a couple of bullets hissed past him, grazing his arm and ripping off a chunk of his hip, and he gritted his fangs as his shoulder finally bumped into the bulkhead and a hand grabbed him and pulled him in the right direction.

Galen turned to the side and saw Sandy standing at his side, back to the bulkhead, assault rifle at the ready and two captured grenades hanging from his belt. "Don't get yourself killed just yet. Without your strength, we are all doomed." The old admiral remarked, but his tone betrayed all the almost fatherly concern he had for his young and extraordinarily gifted student.

"It'll take a lot more to stop me, old man." Galen replied, forcing a grin on his muzzle even as a low cry of pain struggled in his throat, trying to come out. He blinked, clearing his vision as best he could and cursing the glass of the breathing mask, which was covered in droplets of sweat on the inside and in vaporized poison on the outside. The cloud of smoke and gas around him moved around as one of the cylindrical grenades slowly rolled on the floor, and as soon as he spotted it, Galen sprinted forwards and viciously kicked it flying back into the tunnel.

Sebastian, on the other side of the blown-apart hatch, was apparently staring at the tubes and cables running on the ceiling, his hands clutching his weapon hard enough to bend the steel body slightly out of shape.

And then, somewhere in the middle of that cacophony of metallic impacts and screams and cries of agony, Galen heard the by-now familiar sound of rubber tracks turning as one assault robot quickly moved forwards through the tunnel. He passed one of his machine guns to Sandy, and the admiral passed him a grenade instead, that Galen immediately armed, ripping the pin off. He threw the small, solid sphere past the corner, sending it rolling on the metallic floor and hoping that it would end up directly under the robot.

It exploded a few seconds later, and the dull, echoing sound of the blast made them grunt in a mix of satisfaction and horror: there was something very, very clearly wrong in tossing a grenade down a corridor that literally went through a pressurized water nuclear reactor plant... But at the same time, it was safer than let the RA robots get to them undisturbed. The walls of the corridor were thick and made of solid metal, with a dense core of lead that stopped the shrapnel as efficiently as it shielded the crew from the radiations.

The attack robot was hefted off the floor by the force of the explosion and ended up crashing on its front, toppling over while one of its black tracks snapped loose... but its single, all-seeing electronic eye, a swiveling electro-optic turret on an elevated mast, still spun around and locked on Galen and Sandy. The heavily armed turret of the mini-tank tried to turn to take aim at him, but the Gatling gun's barrels bumped uselessly into the floor instead, and Galen snarled and viciously stomped his boot down upon the struggling machine, tearing through its lightly-armoured underbelly like it was made of paper, crushing electronics and shattering the engine into pieces.

Galen immediately dragged his foot back, yanking the robot towards himself, but even that brief exposure was enough for the other RA elements advancing in the corridor to take aim and shoot, making him roar in agony and fury as their bullets tore into his leg, sinking into his powerful muscles and almost ripping a huge calf apart. The captain of the Audacious did not relent, however, and after passing one of his machine guns to Sandy, he squatted upon the sizzling, inoperative drone and grabbed its turret.

The mini-tank was armed with a powerful Gatling cannon and with two 6-shot revolver grenade launchers loaded with Flashbang, gas and non-lethal solid buckshot rounds, and the huge male grinned in vengeful satisfaction as he ripped all three weapons off, lining them on the floor, ready for use. "This is my boat, you wankers!" Galen roared, picking up the heavy Gatling cannon like it was little more than a toy, even though it came with 7 heavy barrels and a whole electric motor to make them revolve.

A hurricane of bullets came through the door in the response, nearly ripping the frame to shreds, and Sebastian carefully leaned his machine gun out, firing a blind burst into the corridor and the space beyond. Someone screamed, but most of the bullets audibly slammed into thick ballistic shields or bounced off the armoured body of the assault robots in the front. Galen took a deep breath as he checked the belt of large bullets hanging from the Gatling, and then traded a nod with Sebastian, who immediately retreated behind the bulkhead. Galen pushed the Gatling out past the edge of the hatch, wincing as bullets immediately framed him, some of them loudly slamming into the cannon and nearly snapping it in half. The huge male could only pull the trigger, or rather, more accurately, push together the electric cables, growling in cruel delight as the barrels began to spin and the belt of ammo danced crazily back and forth, quickly devoured as the weapon vomited fire and destruction. One of the assault robots caught the brunt of that tempest of steel, and its assault shield was first deformed, and then torn away like it was made of cardboard. It collapsed with a loud clang, sending chunks of metal rolling into the room, but others followed closely behind and literally walked over it, crushing the broken hunk flat just as Galen's weapon clicked dry.

The tiger hurled the heavy cannon down the corridor, hitting a large shield hard enough to bend it out of shape and send several RA troopers stumbling backwards... and before they could properly react, Galen had already picked up one of the revolver grenade launchers. An android carrying a heavy ballistic shield charged forwards in that brief window of opportunity, however, and it barreled into the machinery room, immediately turning to the side to smash its shield into Galen... only for Sebastian to lean out of cover and catch its head in one huge, strong hand. The metallic "skull" groaned audibly for a moment, then crumpled inwards with a crackle of electricity, while Galen fearlessly rammed his shoulder into the shield, pitting his tremendous physical strength against the robot's mechanical arms.

The android screeched backwards loudly, its metallic feet grinding against the steel floor, and Galen slapped the heavy shield out of the way, using his other hand to push the grenade launcher right into the robot's chest. A single, large projectile of hard rubber, meant to be non-lethal but carrying enough punch to incapacitate even a giant like Galen, blasted out straight into the android, smashing him backwards like it was a toy and crumpling much of its torso inwards. Sebastian needed to instructions or forewarning, immediately exploiting the momentum of the flying robot to swing it around himself and smash it violently into the bulkhead, before he rammed his knee into its back and crushed the machine flat against the wall, like it was nothing but a tin can. Other Flashbang and gas grenades were thrown into the room as the rest of the RA assault team made a rush for it, and other combat androids charged into the room, aiming their heavy rifles at Sebastian only for Galen to fire a Flashbang round right into their heads. The explosion didn't inflict much damage to the thickly armoured bank of sensors, but the two machines were sent stumbling towards the line of damaged shields and Sandy moved a step forward, trailing the machine gun he had received from Galen and opening up with a long burst of armor-piercing rounds.

The bullets smacked into the androids in an infernal cacophony of metal-on-metal clashes, sending sparkles and splatters of burning phosphorous flying all around, but the robots were too well protected to go down because of it. Galen and Sebastian exploited their brief moment of hesitation to tackle them, however: the two enormous males wrapped their arms around the robots and hefted them clear off the ground, growling as they flexed and squeezed with all of their strength, until both assault units loudly crumpled into crackling, twitching wrecks.

Another "pocket tank" advanced rapidly along the corridor, its twin grenade launchers revolving rapidly and firing large solid shot into Galen and Sebastian's backs, hammering them and sending both huge males staggering forwards. One of the sailors hiding behind the damaged shields made the mistake of instinctively standing up to help Galen, but soon as he moved he was mowed down by one of the RA snipers. Galen gaped in horror as the head of the submariner simply exploded, sending blood and crimson pulp splattering onto his chest, staining what was left of his shredded uniform, mixing with his own blood. The horribly mutilated corpse fell heavily backwards, and the other submariners nearby shrunk away from the body, staring at it in shock. That was not their kind of war; they were used to dealing with other terrors; even more terrible in some ways, but completely different... and bloodless.

Galen tried to turn around, dragging the broken robot, but another heavy non-lethal round smacked into his shoulder and nearly felled him, sending him crashing into the shields. He blindly threw the inoperative android towards the entrance to the machinery space, and at the same time Sandy stepped forwards and opened fire, unleashing an endless burst of rounds into the robot-tank, aiming at its cameras and sensors, the only part that he had any hope of damaging in any way. The belt of projectiles slapped into his legs as it was rapidly sucked into the weapon, and the spent cases and broken links of the belt jiggled on the floor for a few moments, before the heavy weapon clicked dry. The admiral let the useless weapon fall to the floor and brought the last of his grenades up to his mouth, using his teeth to remove the pin, before hurling the small sphere into the corridor. The old tiger took his assault rifle off his shoulder and opened up again against the robot tank, gritting his fangs and listening as his grenade bounced loudly against the metallic wall before exploding right in the middle of the corridor, sending shrapnel tearing through the narrow space, bouncing loudly against shields, armors and walls.

The remote driver of the robot tank finally made the mistake of turning the vehicle around to engage Sandy, and that brief moment of respite allowed Galen to turn around, hefting a massive shield with one hand and using its edge as a sort of sword, smashing it down on top of the tank, crunching one of its sensor heads in and then striking again, and again, trailing his machine gun to aim at the first fissure he managed to create in the thick armor and unleashing armor-piercing rounds into the vulnerable electronics.

RA troopers in heavy armor and carrying bullet-proof shields charged out of the corridor, and three of them aimed large electric guns against Galen, shooting metallic darts that tore deep into his flesh, dragging long cables behind. The captain winced in pain and immediately reached up the grab one of the large daggers, but before he could yank it out, the cables tensed and crackled with a tremendous discharge of electricity that zapped into him and caused all of his muscles to spasm wildly, uncontrollable and unresponsive.

Still, the huge male managed to stumble directly against the RA troopers, gritting his fangs and trembling lunging against them. The long cables of the electric cannons collided with their armors and coiled around their bodies as Galen used his hulking body to crush them down to the floor. The troopers howled in agony and shock as the electricity tore through them, causing smoke to come up through the seams of their tactical vests. The shield-bearers that were supposed to protect them awkwardly tried to form a wall of shields as other shock troopers charged up the corridor, but the submariners rose up from behind the shields and opened fire with every weapon available, mowing down two of the troopers in front as they failed to shrink behind their shields.

With the corridor crowded of assault troopers, the RA snipers in the back had no clear shot, but the soldiers in front quickly went down to their knees, hiding behind the shields and allowing their comrades to shoot above their heads. Sandy's eyes bulged in horror as another two submariners collapsed in lakes of blood on the floor, their heads bursting apart like balloons as the heavy bullets tore through and slammed violently in the diesel generator behind them. The other crew members ducked behind cover, but as soon as they did so the RA soldiers resumed their advance. The admiral saw several troopers bent low, crouching behind the wall of shields and pouring into the crowded compartment, half-hidden behind lazily swirling clouds of smoke and gas.

Assault rifles and sub-machine guns were pushed up past the edge of the shields and opened fire in long bursts, forcing the old admiral to rush towards the nearby diesel generator set. He dived behind it, landing with a grunt of pain and a curse, dragging himself forward and panting breathlessly as tiny fragments and slivers of metal rained down on him from where the bullets were ravaging the solid structure of the immense engine. "I'm getting way too old for this crap." The admiral muttered, hating the multitude of different pains in his muscles and bones and feeling ashamed of himself: no bullet had hit him, and no matter how hard he had been hurled and battered around, he couldn't help but feel almost guilty. Galen had tanked an immense amount of damage and was still fighting like a beast. He had saved their lives countless times already... and now that he needed his help, Sandy was unable to rush to his aid.

Sir Hawkwood had rarely felt old before that mission. Even more rarely he had admitted that his age was showing. But now he could no longer deny the truth, and it was a terrible awareness to contend with. He picked himself up and crouched behind the massive diesel engine, peering out through a small open space between tubes and cables, gritting his teeth as he Sebastian still standing on the other side of the double wall of shields. The sonar specialist was almost as unstoppable as Galen, but just like the captain he had taken a whole lot of bullets and shrapnel and shocks in order to beat back the previous assaults. Now he was once more in the thick of it, towering over even the RA shock troops as he slammed his foot down into one of the shields, knocking the soldier sprawling backwards as the heavy plate of steel dented inwards like tin. Sebastian roared wordlessly, just voicing frustration, fear and fury all at once as he charged into that narrow breach, deliberately stomping on the fallen soldier, pinning him down and then viciously crushing his throat under his boot, hard enough to nearly decapitate him... and immediately kicked the corpse away, wincing as the back of the neck and skull of the dead RA soldier simply exploded, tossing gore and shrapnel all around. During the earlier fights, Galen and the others had had a few nasty surprises because of those explosions, which had badly wounded several submariners while they were scavenging for ammunition and grenades. The RA soldiers seemed to all be kamikazes filled with explosive. For what Galen and Sebastian had managed to understand, all of the RA troopers were fitted with some sort of computer device hooked directly into their nervous system and located in the back of their necks. He had been warned about the existence of the so-called Spirit devices, but he knew little about them and he would have never imagined, before seeing it with his own eyes, that those computers self-destroyed in a hurry as soon as they detected waning life signs in their host. He couldn't imagine commanders so monstrous and selfish to send their men into battle with devices that exploded and horrendously mutilated both the fallen and anyone nearby. He figured that the computers self-destructed in order to never fall into enemy hands and could accept the wisdom of that, but why, then, busy the devices into the spine of the host...? He couldn't imagine anyone ever consciously agreeing to something as monstrous as that, so he had to assume that all RA troopers had been tricked into accepting the systems... which probably also actively reduced their free will once hooked to their neural synapses, otherwise they would have rebelled, wouldn't they...? Surely they could not all be willing kamikazes. It was difficult enough to accept that some suicidal fanatics existed, but that an entire armada of such insane warriors could exist, well, that was too much to imagine. Sebastian for sure would have tried to yank such a device out of his flesh at the very first chance. If they didn't, surely it was because they couldn't. Poor bastards... they put their faith in the worst of leaders.

Sebastian squeezed the trigger of his machine gun and unleashed a long, ferocious burst of massive armor-piercing rounds into the backs of the soldiers facing Sandy, mowing them down in a fearsome explosion of blood... which became even more terrible as their heads soon exploded because of their Spirit devices, showering Sandy in blood, gore and tiny but cruel slivers of metal. The sonar officer winced as the explosions sent splinters piercing into his chest as well, and then he grimaced as his weapon clicked dry, becoming nothing more than a lump of metal in his hands. Immediately he swung it out like a club, hitting one of the RA soldiers in the chin and knocking his head off at a terribly wrong angle, causing a sick crunch to resound across the room... followed by the usual explosion as the corpse slammed onto the floor.

Again and again, Sebastian swung the heavy weapon against the troopers that attempted to tackle him, knocking two of them flying across the room like they were toys, before viciously kicking into the sprawled, electrocuted soldiers twitching on the floor. Electricity zapped violently into him as well, but Sebastian insisted, grunting in pain as his body twitched and spasmed but nonetheless managing to kick the electric cannons away, ripping apart some of their flexible cables. An assault trooper lashed out with an electrified baton and smacked his stomach, knocking him stumbling with a grunt of agony, and another soldier callously fired put two bullets in his thigh, while two more fired electric cannons against his chest.

Sebastian fell heavily down at his wounded leg trembled and lost all strength, and he grunted in pain as he awkwardly caught himself on his knees, but he still found the strength to swing out his deformed, empty machine gun, slamming it into the soldiers ahead of him with enough force to send them sprawling into broken heaps while the heavy, sturdy weapon broke into pieces, flying off of his hand and clanging loudly on the metallic floor.

The electrified daggers of the electric cannons pierced deep into his broad chest and unleashed enormous amounts of high-voltage power that caused all of his nerves to burn and his muscles to contract, painfully and erratically... but Sandy leaned out from behind the Diesel generator and took careful aim with his assault rifle, firing two shots in rapid succession and turning two RA skulls into splatters of gore.

The two corpses flopped down to the floor without a single sound of pain, and before other troopers could intervene, Galen pushed himself up and snarled, yanking the last electrified dart out of his flesh and stabbing it behind the knee of a RA soldier that rushed past to assault the shield line.

The trooper collapsed immediately, spasming wildly and smoldering as the electricity burned his nerves almost to ashes, and Galen straightened with a roar, his hand clamping on the throat of another soldier and hefting him off the ground like he weighted nothing. With one single, swift movement, Galen threw the unfortunate soldier across the whole compartment and right against the massive shaftline of the Audacious. The enormous tube of solid steel was barely revolving at all, but it was more than enough: the RA trooper shrieked in anguish as he slammed violently into the shaft, his bones creaking as he slid down the side of the smooth steel tube and became stuck between it and one of its supports. The shaftline didn't even notice his presence, or the explosion of his Spirit. It just continued to turn, powered on by the massive electric motor and completely uncaring even as the soldier howled in anguish and uselessly banged his fists against it while his body was crushed literally into liquid. It was short but terrifying: the shrieks were so frightening that the battle almost ground to an awkward halt for a moment, before the sick crunch and squelch of the trooper's torso being flattened out of existence made them all shiver.

"Now! Now is your time!" Galen roared, lashing out his heavy, huge fist and catching an RA shield-bearer into the head, crumpling his helmet inwards and cracking his skull like it was made of biscuit, sending blood spraying up high into the air as the body flopped brokenly to the floor. The snipers hiding in the dark at the other end of the corridor fired again, and Galen hissed as one of their heavy-caliber bullets smashed into his leg and tore right through it, sending him falling again down to one knee, wheezing in agony but somehow managing to catch a terrified RA trooper as it retreated towards the hatch. Galen pushed up to his feet once more, lifting the terrified soldier off the ground and using his body as a shield and a weapon at once, charging right into the rest of the group and knocking soldiers sprawling like pins, gritting his fangs in savage satisfaction as his feet hammered down on their bodies and loudly crushed bones into pieces. With one hand he effortlessly held the dead soldier up in front of himself, even as the RA snipers and soldiers fired against him and every bullet impacting into the meat-shield sent the lifeless body bumping into him; with the other hand he blindly picked up a weapon from the floor. The head of his meat-shield exploded and sent shrapnel slamming into his chest, but he only instinctively closed his eyes and shrugged it off almost with nonchalance: the metal fragments hadn't enough energy to tear into his hard, massive muscles.

Someone, maybe Sebastian, found a Flashbang and threw it past him and down the corridor... and when it exploded, its flash illuminated the two snipers, well hidden in the darkness of the compartment ahead, one in each corner, with their rifles resting on tripods. Galen hurled the devastated corpse-shield away, and trained the stolen assault rifle up, taking aim first at one, then the other sniper, nailing both to the bulkhead with short, accurate bursts.

Sebastian howled in inarticulate rage, half-walking and half crawling forwards on his knees, picking up the rifles from the dead bodies scattered all across the compartment and emptying them on the retreating RA troopers, mowing them down, one by one, before throwing the weapons away when they clicked dry.

The other submariners joined in the firefight, but the RA rapidly formed a new line of shields and rifles, and Galen rolled on his side with a grunt of pain and exhaustion, getting back to his bloodied, stinking, accursed spot near the bulkhead, where he couldn't be hit. "Get into cover! And save the ammunition!" He barked, and the submariners did their best to grab weapons, discarded magazines and even corpses, dragging them away from the hatch and behind the first cover available, before searching every pocket, every pouch, to recover every last bullet. Weapons were checked, bullets were hurriedly and loudly clipped into the magazines, and Galen closed his eyes, wincing in agony and grabbing his spasming leg with one hand, clutching at the terrible wound and not daring to check whether the bone was still there or not.

Sebastian rolled over with a breathless grunt, and the two step-brothers ended up resting shoulder to shoulder, their heads leaning back against the bulkhead, their bodies covered in wounds and almost completely caked in blood. Much of it wasn't theirs, but it was only a partial comfort.

Bullets continued to pour through the open hatch, chasing every submariner that made the mistake of exposing even a little bit of his body beyond the edges of solid, metallic cover, and the noise coming from across the reactor's sealed compartment suggested that the enemy was about to launch yet another assault. "We won't be able to stop them for much longer." Sebastian whispered, careful not to be heard by anyone other than Galen and Sandy, who had walked up to them and was now staring down at them with evident horror, his mouth slightly gaping at the sight of their wounds.

Towards the back of the compartment, the ship's medic was crawling on his elbows, moving carefully from one bit of cover to the next, trying to sneak around the Diesel generator to get to the two massive males. Galen made a mental note of proposing him for every possible medal and honor connected to his role, because he was doing literally everything that was possible... and even some things that were impossible, arguably. With little or no equipment and meds at his disposal, he was accomplishing miracles. But of course, in order to give him a medal, they had to survive first... and their chances, at the moment, looked extremely poor.

"I've still got enough to juice to send them packing two or three times." Galen said, trying to sound confident, but his voice broke as his leg spasmed violently and blood leaked out through his fingers. He slowly and hesitatingly lifted his hand a little, looking at the wound beneath and hissing in pain as his flesh and muscle stirred and attempted to regenerate. In the past, the ability of his body to recover from damage had been noticeable, but now it was much more evident: it had been steadily increasing over the last while, probably following, even though from an immense distance, the growth of his father's power. The shifting and flexing of his muscles as they rapidly grew new, solid chords and worked to seal his wounds was rather tormenting, but it allowed him to shrug off immense amounts of damage. The deep wounds in his thick chest, where the electrified darts had sunk deep into his flesh, were already mostly gone, and even the horrendous hole in his thigh was rapidly shrinking and had almost entirely ceased to bleed.

Sandy gazed at the healing wound in wonder, shaking his head slowly and murmuring: "You two are completely insane, but... thank you, really. Were you not so reckless, strong and tough, we would not have lasted more than a few minutes."

"Yeah, well... if our father does not come or send help, we won't last much longer." Galen bitterly admitted, making a grimace and shifting uncomfortably on the spot. The boat's medical officer finally turned the corner of the diesel generator and stood up, knowing that he was safe from the bullets while behind that massive cover, and he rushing towards them. Galen forced himself to look up and welcome the doctor with a smile, trying to appear fearless and relaxed about their immediate future. The medic didn't seem too interested in his expression, however, and he instead went down to his knees and delicately took his wrist in his hands, pulling his hand off the large wound.

The doctor's eyes opened wide as he realized that the wound was sealing itself up, and he studied the ongoing regeneration for a few moments, mumbling under his breath: "What the fuck are you made of, commander...?"

"I'm literally one of the sons of God!" Galen reminded, even though his own eyes were open wide as he stared at the hole, which had completely stopped bleeding and was rapidly shrinking away as his thick muscle regenerated. The RA sniper, obeying to the orders he had received, had carefully avoided the large, pulsing artery, but Galen remembered all too well that the massive bullet, designed to perforate light armored vehicles and smash engine blocks out of action, had blown so much of his thigh cleanly off that he had originally been able to see both the artery and the bone. His body, though, had reacted like it had a mind of its own: new chords of muscle had rapidly wrapped around both, shielding them and hiding them from sight, protecting him from what could have been a rapid and agonizing death. The medic grunted in acknowledgment, rolling his eyes up in his skull as awkwardly reached for one of the crude bandages he had created ripping clean uniforms to shreds and pouring disinfectants on them. He began to wrap it around the captain's thick thigh, and Galen grunted an exhausted but grateful word of thanks, half-slumping against the wall.

Sebastian, sitting nearby, gritted his fangs and let out a muffled cry of pain as he seized into his own powerful thighs and squeezed almost viciously around the bleeding holes the RA's bullets had punched in his flesh. Blood bubbled up out of both wounds, and the medic cursed under his breath and exclaimed: "What the hell are you doing? Stay still for a moment! I'm trying to do my job here!"

The exhausted, frustrated doctor hurriedly buried a hand into his small, battered bag of tools salvaged from his tiny ambulatory and picked up a pair of thin surgical pincers, moving quickly over to search for the bullets... before blinking in shock as the massive male flexed his powerful muscles and squeezed even harder with his fingers, just like he was popping a pair of pimples, until the two squashed, crumpled bullets burst out of the wounds. The doctor dropped the pincers with a sigh of awed exasperation, sitting back on his haunches for a moment and exclaiming: "What am I supposed to do with you two...? You are an insult to medical science!"

"I like being an insult to your science. You are way too intelligent; you'd make me look stupid otherwise." Galen playfully teased, before snickering a little as the medic shot him a glare and at the same time resolutely slapped Sebastian's hand away from the two bleeding holes. The doctor carefully began to clean both wounds, and he hurriedly covered them with a bit of bandage. He tried to use as little cloth as possible, since he had only a few bandages left and the two hulking males didn't seem to need much anyway. He gazed straight into the eyes of both herculean males, and finally muttered: "Seriously, you two are definitely not normal."

"And a good thing it is." Sebastian sighed, leaning heavily back against the bulkhead and panting quietly, his chest heaving visibly even as he tried to relax his sore, trembling body. The pain was still terrible, even if abating quickly, and as he came down from the excitement of battle he started to be newly aware of his own vulnerability and of how utterly crazy his actions had been. That they were still alive was truly a miracle. His heart raced, and despite his best attempts to calm it down, it refused to listen.

"They are getting better at it." Sandy quietly observed, looking at the hatch and wincing as the RA weapons kept unleashing hurricanes of fire and steel through it, forcing all submarines into hiding and making it impossible to tend to the dead comrades. A few of the sailors were bravely crawling forwards, crouched behind a heavy shield that rattled violently against their hands as it was pummeled by violent bursts of high-caliber rounds. With great caution, they were trying to get to a wounded shipmate who stared at them with unseeing eyes, one trembling hand blindly extended towards the voices of his mates, the other clutching at the horrendous wound in his torso, trying to keep his guts from slipping out.

Sandy and the others watched on with a terrible sinking feeling in their chests, clenching their fists and praying, hoping that the RA would play fairly for once... but as soon as one of the submariners seized the casualty by the ankles and began to carefully drag him towards the cover, the troopers at the other end of the corridor opened up against the agonizing sailor, hitting him once, twice, thrice... again and again, ripping most of his body apart and causing the devastated corpse to twitch horribly at every violent impact.

Galen closed his eyes, but it was not enough to escape the sight, or the awareness, at least, of that bloody, begging hand flopping on the cold metal floor. He felt like vomiting, for not the first time, but somehow he managed to once more swallow it all down. Some of his shipmates howled in fury and despair and denial. Several blindly and ferociously returned fire, pushing their guns out from behind the shields and the machinery... and Galen did not shout for them to stop. They should have been saving ammunition, as they only had left whatever little they had been able to scavenge from the fallen enemies, but he couldn't find the heart and the voice for shouting an order, for scolding them. He craved salvation and relief and revenge no less than they did.

After a few short moments, however, Sandy did it, clearing his throat and then barking: "Stop it, now! Spare the bullets for later, when they'll come at you once more!"

The submariners obeyed, dropping behind cover and changing the magazines of their rifles, making sure to pull out any remaining bullet before throwing away the empty clips. Their expressions spoke of confusion, stress, fear and horror, but they refused to give in and be broken by the RA's savage violence. Galen could see tears streaking down the cheeks of many, and he clenched his fists, trembling in powerless, painful rage. He had never wished for something more intensely than he now wished for the power to save his shipmates and bring them back home. They all deserved the best... and he found himself swallowing thickly when one of the submarines, hidden behind a dented, damaged shield, intercepted his gaze and forced a smile on his face, offering a thumb up. Galen nodded in reply, trying to smile back... and the young submariner dug into his pocket and pulled something out. A piece of black cloth that he spread out... revealing the Audacious's Jolly Roger, battered and worn and now with several bullet holes and stains of blood, sweat, oil. Their pirate flag, with the skull and the crossed torpedoes, with the symbols that summarized all the enemy vessels they had sunk and all the cruise missiles they had fired against Lunis, earlier in the war. Galen smiled widely, and nodded. It might have felt stupid and senseless to people from outside their small community of professionals, but that flag truly meant a lot to all of them. He had allowed the Jolly Roger to make the rounds across their group: everyone got to keep it for a little while. That they hadn't lost it yet was a source of pride and hope.

"They are getting better at it..." Sebastian quietly repeated, giving a little nod. "Or perhaps they are just getting increasingly angry and desperate. But I get the point. If help doesn't come quickly, we'll have to say our goodbyes and try to bow out on a high note."

"I don't feel like bowing out just yet." Galen immediately remarked, picking up a rifle abandoned on the floor and removing the clip, checking how many rounds were left inside it. Only six, it turned out. He made a grimace at that, but slapped the clip back in place and chambered a round nonetheless. "Maybe next time we should try to press on, and attack them. Run right the reactor and make a rush for the first airlock. If we are lucky, we can capture one of their mini-submarines."

"And be sunk by the Sentence as we try to get away." Sandy muttered, shaking his head slowly. They all knew that there really wasn't a way for them to sneak away unseen. The enormous RA super-submarine was right above, and even if, thanks to some kind of miracle, they were to recapture the Audacious and get it moving again on its own power, they could only end up captured again or, worse, obliterated by one of the ridiculously enormous and absurdly powerful torpedoes of the sea monster looming on them.

"Fuck it!" Galen exclaimed, gritting his fangs and slamming his fist against the bulkhead, denting the wall of solid steel like it was made of paper. "I don't want to die hidden in a goddamn machinery room stinking of my own piss! If we can take back our boat and capture at least one of their mini-subs, we can initiate an emergency blow and send the Audacious right up to the roof. We should be able to get into the mini-sub and go for an emergency detach before the impact."

Sandy arched an eyebrow at that, studying Galen with a mix of interest and shock. What Galen had just proposed was pretty damn crazy and probably impossible: he wanted to rush along the reactor compartment's corridor, charging the RA troops frontally and wiping them all out. He hoped to then secure at least one of the RA mini-subs, intact and working. He hoped to embark the crew on it, then, with a small team of courageous aspiring-suicides, he wanted to initiate an emergency emersion, blowing all pressurized air bottles into the tanks and sending the Audacious up towards the surface of the sea ("the roof") at the highest possible angle and speed.

With the immense Sentence looming right above them, such a manoeuvre meant sending the Audacious smashing into her keel like some sort of super-sized torpedo. The chances of getting away in time to avoid the impact were almost none... especially for the few sailors who had to initiate the emergency emersion before making a desperate rush for the air lock leading into the mini-sub. Those in the mini-sub, assuming they could even truly capture one, would face the terrible choice of detaching immediately, and perhaps getting to safety, or wait for their comrades and, almost certainly, die crushed between the Sentence and the Audacious's hulls. Of course, the most probable outcome of such an attempt remained one in which they were all mowed down already in the reactor's corridor. After all, that narrow passage had allowed them to resist to the more numerous and much more heavily armed RA forces; it was going to work in both ways and make it that much easier for the shock troopers to pound them with bullets until even Galen and Sebastian would collapse. But if the only alternative was to be killed in the machinery room or be captured and slaughtered in one of the RA's infamous cells, well, even that insane plan suddenly looked plenty attractive. Sandy ran a few calculations in his mind, trying to determine whether they had any chance of damaging the Sentence enough to take her down to the bottom with them. He looked into Galen's eyes, and it was easy to see that he was wondering about the exact same thing.

"That goddamn thing is so enormous that it is probably going to absorb the blow without sinking, but we will damage her enough to force her to the roof. Once up there, she'll be spotted, and someone will hopefully complete the job for us." Galen finally said, and Sebastian looked at him in silent amazement, gulping visibly. The medical officer's face became alarmingly pale, but to his credit he stood firm and ready to do his part. Sandy, on his part, nodded in agreement but looked out towards the rest of the crew, swallowing thickly. "We... should keep that as our last resort. Every single one of them has gone above and beyond his duty already. We shouldn't ask them to do this, until there is the chance of being rescued. We..."

"Shhhh!" Sebastian suddenly urged, and the admiral frowned and turned towards the sonar specialist, with a question on his lips... which died away into silence as he saw the expression on the officer's face, that grimace of intense concentration, eyes squinting slightly as he focused on the distant, muffled noise coming through the hull. Galen heard it as well, and he closed his eyes, tilting his head back and listening, until Sebastian whispered: "The Sentence is changing depth. She is going up. That was her hull groaning with the change of pressure. This other sound is the air going in her tanks. Gods, they must be so huge! It's noisy like hell."

"Their propulsion is super silent, but her absurd sizes have drawbacks. Explains why they wanted an active noise-cancellation system." Sandy commented, and Galen nodded in agreement. The medic, despite several tours on board of submarines, didn't have enough knowledge of their inner workings to make sense of the muffled sounds coming from above. He only stood near the bulkhead, watching his commanders in action and admiring their expertise, waiting in silence for their decisions. His hands trembled slightly, his whole body tense with the awareness of the danger they were facing and with the added fear of the unknown: unlike the other three officers, he couldn't tell what was going on and couldn't guess what would follow.

Suddenly there was another sudden noise coming from above, loud enough to be heard clearly even between a shot and another. Even the RA troopers stopped firing, because the sound this time was loud and peculiar enough that they all instinctively looked up at the ceiling. It was definitely some kind of mechanical noise, and many of the submariners shivered in horror: for many hours now they had been dreading the possibility that the RA would use one of its mini-submarines to drill a hole directly through the casing and pressure hull of the Audacious, opening a second and perhaps even a third access into the machinery room, surrounding them for good. It quickly became clear, however, that for once the noise didn't come from something clanging against the Audacious's hull, but something else, quite some distance away, above them. The noise came muffled and distorted by the great mass of water, but it was still pretty easy to tell that it came from the Sentence.

Sebastian and Galen traded a quick look and a frown as they tried to make sense of that noise, even without having access to the Audacious's extraordinary sonar equipment.

"It sounds awfully like the hatch opening, earlier on." Sebastian finally sentenced, making a grimace and kicking lightly into one of the broken RA troopers laying messily on the floor. "It's an enormous hatch. Enormous. A noise unlike any other I've ever heard underwater. Nothing like a normal SSBN hatch... but whatever they launched before, well... they might be about to launch another."

A few minutes passed, and during that time they heard only distant sounds of cavitation and the faint groaning of metal as the Sentence continued to adjust its immersion dept, moving closer to the surface, and that was another signal that a new missile launch might be imminent... but this time there was truly nothing they could do about it. They had at least been able to warn their commanders about the first launch, but now even that was impossible.

Galen and Sebastian stood up and traded an urgent look with Sandy before sprinting towards the hatch, determined to charge through the RA's line and ram the Audacious up into the Sentence. The admiral reached forwards and grabbed them by the shoulders, struggling to restrain the two titans who effortlessly dragged him along, his boots screeching against the metallic floor as he hissed: "No! It's useless to throw your lives away; you'd never be able to initiate an emergency emersion in time, anyway!"

Galen and Sebastian swallowed thickly, knowing that it was true... and then they all winced and recoiled violently, grabbing their heads and crying out in pain as a new, terrifying... something... penetrated their minds and threatened to burn them into ashes. It wasn't a sound, it wasn't a voice, it wasn't something physical... and yet it felt like all those things at once. A monstrously powerful and malignant aura bore down on them with crushing force, so much that they were left to wonder how the Audacious itself wasn't crumpling under the pressure.

It was coming closer, that much was definite, and they could suddenly hear an immense amount of cavitation, as if the ocean all around the Audacious was boiling... or retreating away from something, as if in fear. And a moment later they had to grab the nearest support available, because the Audacious groaned audibly and lurched violently sideways, pushed around by a terrifying, immense force.

"What the hell is going on...?" The medical officer squealed, his voice coming out far more shrill than intended. Nobody noticed, however, because the confusion in their minds was complete, and even Sebastian's eyes bulged in shock and ignorance. That was a completely new and unnatural event and feeling, one that he couldn't even begin to explain.

None of them had ever possessed the ability to perceive the aura of other beings, but the energy signature burning above them was so immense and incandescent that it was impossible not to feel it very clearly as it painfully etched itself into their minds. It became even more intense as it descended from high above, closer and closer, and they all immediately realized that if it came for them, they would be unable to do a thing. It was a power they simply couldn't even begin to comprehend... and soon it revealed itself even more clearly: the auras were actually two, connected and mixed together, one more immense and fearsome than the other.

"The only time when I felt something like this... it was when I met your father for the last time." Sandy murmured, barely able to force the air out of his throat as it was constricted and crushed by that tremendous force. "A divinity has come..."

"But it's not ours." Sebastian muttered, gritting his fangs and looking up in shock and horror, almost expecting to see through the Audacious, through the Sentence's hull and all the way up to the unknown monster. There could be no doubt: the two auras above them were too malignant to have anything to do with Killer. The king could be cruel and merciless, but he had never been pure evil. Even in his worst moments, even when dominated by pure fury, he never completely abandoned honor and reason. The force that was descending upon them, instead, had no care or respect for anything other than itself.

And yet... yet there was something. Something weird. Something familiar. Galen and Sebastian's eyes opened in shock and confusion, and the two step-brothers instinctively sought each other's gaze as they gaped in disbelief. None of the two said a word, because they had no clue how to even try to describe what they felt... it was something like an electric current, running down their nerves. A flow of energy, confused and gnarled, that somehow connected them to one of the two auras above.

Killer had touched the monstrosity. They did not know how, when and why, but somehow they instinctively knew that there was a bit of their father inside the monster.

"What is it...? What do you feel...?" Sandy urgently asked, and for once his voice betrayed fear and horror. Galen blinked and looked down at the much smaller male, and his eyes opened wide at the sight of the dull, terrible white light that seemed to completely fill Sandy's gaze. Galen felt a shiver running down his spine in front of that evident terror, and instantaneously regretted showing his shock. The admiral had never allowed his worries to show through, but now, in front of a divinity, of something against which they were completely powerless, even he couldn't contain his emotions. It was horrible and disconcerting to see Sandy tremble in fear, and both Galen and Sebastian immediately realized that it was now their turn to rein in their emotions and put up a stony, confident face for their shipmates to find comfort in. That was their turn at showing proper leadership... but Galen only grunted, unable to come up with anything meaningful to say. It was crucial to keep Sandy and the others unaware of the fact that Killer's energies were part of that monstrous aura, because if they were to somehow feel that, doubts and fears would quickly devour them alive. Sebastian came to the rescue, calmly saying: "They are not launching anything, admiral. They are... they seem to be embarking something, in fact. That aura we feel... it probably belongs to something... or someone, rather... who is stepping onto the Sentence."

"The launch we heard earlier... maybe this entity left the submarine earlier, and is coming back now." Galen added, speaking to himself as much as to the admiral. The awareness that they had not, in fact, listened to the launch of an intercontinental missile loaded with nukes should have been reassuring, but given the immensity of that monstrous aura it was actually depressing. Nukes were very tame threats, compared to that otherworldly force.

The admiral took a step back from them, breathing heavily, his chest heaving as he attempted to put his racing heart under control, and he seemed to study them both for a few moments. Finally, there was another loud and recognizable noise coming from the Sentence as the gigantic hatch closed, and the admiral looked upwards, listening to it until it was replaced by the surprisingly loud noise of the tanks of the Sentence filling again with water as the colossal submarine sought again refuge in the dark depths. The energy signature was still there. They could also distinguish its movements as it moved through the Sentence. "Yes, they... they definitely embarked someone, that's right." The admiral whispered. He visibly calmed down somewhat, but it was clear that he suspected that something horrible had been left unsaid. He was way too seasoned and intelligent not to realize that the energy signature in itself was the core of the matter, certainly not whether it was climbing into the Sentence or coming out of her. The fact that the monster had entered the RA submarine, at best, meant that it wasn't going to destroy them... yet.

Shouts of happiness and cheers came from the other end of the bloodied reactor compartment's tunnel, and all submarines nervously listened to the catcalls as the RA warriors jubilated. Anything that made the RA happy could only be terrible news for them.

And the same voice that had earlier demanded their surrender now again rose in a roar that announced: "Glorious mistress Sikanjal is back! The goddess has returned, and you are screwed!" The RA officer cackled in cruel delight, and many other voices joined his own as the whole assault force laughed and cheered.

The submariners of the Audacious listened in silence, clutching their weapons in impotent fury, hating every last one of those mocking voices and at the same time hating and dreading their cruel fate, which seemed to be taking a definite turn for the worse.

"Stay hidden in your little stinky hole, you sewer rats! Mistress Sikanjal will soon come for you, and there will be nothing you can do to stop her! You don't want to surrender? Fine! You are only making your fate worse!"

Galen growled, muttering a curse under his breath. He wanted to roar something back against that insolent little coward, who had sent his troopers to the assault again and again without ever exposing himself. But what could he even say? The enemy that burned somewhere above them was way too immense to be questioned. No bullets, no guns, no punches were going to stop that monster. Even then, while she was hundreds of meters away, separated from them by thick walls of steel and by the ocean's cold waters, she crushed on their minds like an inescapable burden that became heavier and heavier with every moment that passed. At one point the pain flared, becoming unbearable and sending even Galen stumbling blindly until he half-collapsed against the bulkhead, wincing in agony. She had thought of them. They felt it clearly, somehow. She had spared a lazy, cruel thought for them and it had been enough to cause a few of them to fall unconscious, while others screamed and grabbed uselessly at their skulls, squeezing and clawing into them, begging for an escape, from a bit of relief from that nightmarish sensation.

She wanted them to suffer, before dying. She was furious for their intrusion and interference. And her rage became a weapon, a psychic blade that pierced into their minds and seemed to yank the very air out of their lungs, leaving them gasping like fishes out of water.

Come to me, toys... they could hear their voice... or imagine it. It echoed in their minds like a sinister noise, with such authority and power that Galen saw a few of his shipmates standing up, leaving cover and staggering towards the hatch, their eyes rolling up in their skulls as drool leaked from their mouths.

"Drag them down!" He shouted, eyes open wide, expecting their heads to explode into splatters of blood as soon as they moved out from behind the shields... but the RA troopers only laughed, mocking them, and some of the other submariners managed to gather enough strength and determination to grab their mates and tackle them down to the floor. It was a struggle to pin them down, though, and Galen watched on in horror and disbelief as his mates yelled and bucked like beasts, looking like they were possessed by demonic forces... and hell, that was exactly what it was, wasn't it...?

You. Sons of Killer. Galen and Sebastian cried out in pain, clawing into the metallic bulkhead as their minds thrummed painfully as the monster talked directly to them. They could also see her head turning, her eyes fixing into their own, and she grinned as she added: We are going to have lots of fun together... I wonder how much of your daddy's essence has found purchase inside you two. What useful powers might you hide...?

Galen fell heavily to his knees, dropping his forehead against the cold, dirty metal and tasting blood in his mouth as his body uncontrollably, violently leaned forwards, so much so that he almost smashed his skull against the wall. He groaned in agony, barely able to realize that Sandy and the medic were squeezing into his shoulders and trying to steady him, to prevent him from banging his head into pieces against the bulkhead. "Y-you won't... get... us." The captain of the Audacious hissed, every single letter feeling like a sword that he had to squeeze upwards through his throat. Sikanjal snorted in amused contempt and lashed out again against his mind... but she grunted in surprise as Galen resisted, as her psychic powers crashed violently into some sort of invisible but solid wall. They exploded back against her, making her cry out in shock as she recoiled... and suddenly both Galen and Sebastian could truly see her, a glimpse of her body stumbling backwards in the middle of what was clearly one of the Sentence's corridors. Despite all her power, she was surprisingly weak. She nearly fell over just because of that blast of force, and she struggled to catch herself, clawing into the bulkhead and ripping deep gauges into it as she fought to preserve her balance. Suddenly, Galen could see her with amazing clarity, and it immediately became evident just why she could barely stand. Why she hadn't come directly for them but had retreated into her underwater castle instead. He understood even why her aura was made of two distinct energy signatures, and guessed why her energies contained some of Killer's own essence and pure, apocalyptic power. Sikanjal was enormously, grotesquely pregnant, and her belly was stretched out to agonizing proportions, her hide ripping apart and armor-like scales flaking off her as countless beasts, immense and herculean in build and strength, moved around inside of her. Sperms. Sperms of titanic, godlike, impossible proportions. Their bulky, powerful bodies could be seen moving inside her, punching horrendous bulges in her once-perfect feminine shape. The tails of those monsters, heavy and thick like those of alligators, but lined with far more cruel spikes and ridges, hung out of her annihilated sex and coiled savagely around her legs and waist. Some of those tails literally dragged on the floor for many feet, slithering like anacondas, while their heads rested not even in her obliterated womb, but in her chest cavity, or even her throat. She was of terrifying, otherworldly power but at the same time looked like a derelict, hopeless piece of wreckage, raped into a monstrous, grotesque state that was worse than death and also more inescapable. Dark, thick, sticky, hyperpotent black gunk leaked out of her, bubbled out of her mouth, out of her nostrils, out of even her ears, painting her tears jet black as she miserably staggered down that corridor, followed by terrified guards who were clearly unsure of what they were supposed to do, as well as justifiably scared shitless by the colossal, ferocious hypersperms.

Inside her pulsing, thrumming, ruined belly, lurked a monster that, despite having to fight for space with the horde of colossal sperms cramming her whole form full, burned with incandescent, terrifying power. In many ways it eclipsed its mother's strength, making her look nothing but a prototype. The monster inside her was growing at astonishing, devastating rate, its body becoming massive, herculean, hulking. Its shape could be guessed easily even through the grotesquely moving bulges caused by the swimming sperms, and there could be no doubt about it being a Him. An obscenely excessive, overpowered male that, even before being born, drowned the world in his omnivirile, arrogant, pestilent, glorious stench.

That beastly creature was very clearly a spawn of Killer; a new ultra-god that made a mockery of the laws of the universe before even being born. An overpowered colossus who grew stronger literally by the second, dwarfing "normal" gods to insignificance. He was the true threat, the true destroyer, and Galen trembled in shock as he saw the "child's" eyes opening and staring mockingly down at him, white and expressionless, merciless and luminous as stars, as gigantic pits of cosmic fire able to incinerate worlds like they were pieces of coke. The beast grinned, and Galen trembled violently, screaming breathlessly as he was given a glimpse of the chaotic, hideous and glorious form the titan was rapidly evolving towards. Galen found himself floating in merciless, horrendous darkness, lost in the shadow of a colossus that suddenly towered to the stars, making him feel less than a nothing, smaller than a microbe. Monstrous beyond description, the god-child was a horror of indescribable size and indeterminate form: a mighty, corrupted mutant beast that evolved and grew ceaselessly, without limits or hesitations, only ever staying coherent in how he dwarfed anything and everything around him, always looming greater and more powerful than any term of paragon. He was excessive and apocalyptic, and the evolving disease that covered its sinewy, mutant body, reached out like an infinite tangle of tentacles, capturing and absorbing, ensnaring and corrupting, warping and enslaving everything he touched. The Child was actually an ultravirile monument of masculinity covered in bulging, raw muscle and in countless eyes that stared out of his body and the great cables of sinew that covered his form. All-seeing, he was covered in pestilent wounds and pustules and tumors that only made him stronger, creating new weapons and poisons and stenches that enslaved and destroyed every living being. The enormity of the glorious, terrifying shaft hanging down between his legs, caked in smegma and ruin, dripping with the remains of countless victims and with the endless runoff of excessive Alpha waste, was simply astonishing.

Galen fell back on his haunches, blindly scrambling backwards, away from that terrible vision and those soulless, merciless eyes... and he blinked his eyes furiously, rubbing at them with a bloodied hand, desperately trying to chase the image away, even as it continued to sear itself with fire into his mind.

Sebastian was pale and looked like he was about to vomit, and the violent trembling of his hands made it clear that he had seen the same amazing, monstrous, unholy god. Sandy and the others, on the other hand, looked mostly confused and lost, so they clearly hadn't been reached by the thoughts of that monstrous, limitless Child. Their stepbrother, technically... and maybe it was exactly because of it that the Child had looked into their minds, and allowed him and Sebastian to look back at the abyss of apocalyptic power and cruelty that he was.

"W-what do we do now...?" The medical officer asked, his eyes open wide and full of panic, his body spasming uncontrollably with the aftershock of being touched by a mere thought of the evil goddess.

Galen was tempted to admit that he had no clue, to warn them all that despite being the son of Killer he had nowhere near enough strength to protect them from such a monster... but as commander of that valiant crew, he had responsibilities. And there was at least one silver lining to the monstrosity he had seen. One that would keep them alive, at least for a short while.

"She is powerful, but... at the same time, she's weak. She is wounded and broken. And she is... she is pregnant. Immensely so." Galen mumbled, and the medical officer blinked in surprise and confusion... while Sandy shut his mouth tightly and closed his eyes in realization, before quietly asking: "Your father...?"

"Yes." Galen admitted, before hurriedly offering some hope as he added: "They... they fought. He's beaten her into a pretty horrible state. She won't come for us. Not yet. She can barely stand on her feet."

"And yet, just one thought of hers can almost snuff us out of existence." Sandy bitterly observed. Even if she didn't come for them, their survival was uncertain at best. She could kill them with her mind, with her breath with her... everything. It was terrifying to think of it.

"But Killer will come. Father will want to... to finish the job." Galen firmly said, although he was trying to convince himself more than the others. Why had his father put his seed, his power, inside that evil goddess...? Why had he created that monstrous, almighty Child that grew and grew, stronger and stronger, so overwhelming that the whole planet would soon die and crumble away to dust because of his mere, tyrannical and unbearable presence...? Surely it had been... unintentional...? But how could that be? It was hard to imagine Killer being raped by someone... had he raped her without taking note of his own hypervirility and its consequences? Galen didn't know what to think, but he desperately needed to believe that his father would never voluntarily create a monster like that, and never bestow such immense power on a malignant creature like Sikanjal.

"Father will come." Sebastian promised, to himself first of all. "He will come for her and for us. He hates to leave a job unfinished."

"We have to hope he does. We won't make it out of this hell if he does not." Sandy whispered, looking exhausted and suddenly showing every last year of his age, and then some. He leaned his back against the bulkhead and let himself slid heavily down, sitting on the floor and dropping his head back, squeezing his hands together and trying to get them to stop trembling. "We don't have much time left. But he promised to assist us, and I trust him. If there is a chance for it, he will come. If he can't... well. Then all is lost anyway, and not just for us."

Killer prudently teleported to a corner of space, high above the atmosphere of Earth. Not that there was anything that could truly endanger him, but old habits were hard to abandon, and he wanted to make some reconnaissance before barreling into a potential battle.

Or maybe he was just guided by his need to see what had become of his planet, devastated by an apocalypse that had been fueled by his own power, his own overwhelming virility, his overwhelming Alpha waste, collected off his hulking body and used by Cerberus to bombard Earth. He had a knot in his throat and a painful void in his chest when, with a crackle of terrifying energy, he materialized in the cold, dark space. And he could only shiver and swallow thickly as he realized that space had become a whole lot darker. Earth used to be a luminous, beautiful pale blue ark, sparkling with colors and bountiful with life, with the blue of her oceans shining bright on the dark background of deep space. All of that was now gone. There was hardly any blue left, and no green at all. Earth was a grotesque sphere of pestilence and overwhelming, uncontrollable, corrupt life. His black, thick, hyperpotent precum had flooded the entire planet and snuffed all vegetation out of existence, drenching the very ground and turning it into a mass of flesh and muscle. The continents had shattered into pieces, cracked apart by immense chords of mutant muscles that grew out of the crust of the planet, pushing so high into the sky that aircraft would not be able to fly high enough to overcome them. Immense, muscular tentacle-plants had grown to terribly fast and relentlessly to ensnare entire countries between their roots, while the appendages themselves reached greedily out into space, thousands of miles in diameter and millions of miles in length and still growing, and growing, and evolving. The Moon was no more, gone and dissolved, leaving behind no sign of its presence, like it had never existed at all. The oceans, that the Cerberus-engineered apocalypse had turned blood-red, now were dense stains of black, hypervirile gunk so thick to be almost solid. The red-stained seas were reduced to mere puddles surrounded by the triumphant, unstoppable black corruption that continued to advance, making those last pockets of polluted water ever smaller.

It was far worse than he had thought, and the sight froze him stiff, his jaw dropping as he smelled himself, almost tasted his own masculine power even up there, outside the atmosphere, where no scent should have been able to exist. His arms slowly slid off Vera's body, and the goddess turned slowly around from where she had buried her face in his powerful chest. She stared at the planet in silence, swallowing thickly, her emerald eyes following the angry slash of one titanic tentacle which was clearly growing to reach a distant planet, to capture it and devour it.

"This is the extent of your omnipotence, God Daddy..." Samara Vera quietly observed, her body flexing with power and hunger that she just couldn't contain and deny, despite the horror and the shock. "This is what mere drops of your sweat and precum can accomplish... and it is not even all of it, but just a hint."

"It's terrible." Killer replied, making a grimace. "I've... I've destroyed the world I wanted to protect. I've become the ultimate weapon in the hands of my enemies."

"Not anymore, though." Samara reminded, trying to reassure and comfort him, her hand pushing against his chest and gently gripping into the thick, curly hair of his mane. "They will pay for what they did, and for what they made you do. You are God, daddy... and just for lack of a better world. You are far more than that. Gods pale in comparison to you like mortals disappear in comparison to Gods. With the same ease with which you destroyed, you will fix." She paused briefly, and her eyes glowed as she looked up into his, smiling softly as she pushed a finger against his lips to stop any possible counter as she added: "If you'll decide to. The choice is exclusively yours. And our fate, our role, our greatest honor... is to accept your decision and glorify you for it, because whatever you decide will still be way too generous to us, toys and meat and putty in your hands."

She slowly pulled her finger off his lips, smiling in entertainment at his expression of mixed pleasure and confusion, shock and guilt... and she turned around, closing her eyes and listening to the cold space around her. "Sikanjal is trying to hide. She must be restraining her aura... but the Child inside her -"

"The monster." Killer corrected, and Samara bowed her head in obedience. She would have never dared speaking ill of a product of Killer's semen unless he disowned it first.

"...the monster is not bothering. His aura burns hotter than then Sun."

It was true: Sikanjal's energy signature was nowhere to be found, but there was a titanic, rapidly growing aura that was as monstrous and abominable as it was familiar. Those energies had "Killer" written all over. There was some sort of screen that was vainly attempting to hide that gigantic aura, but it was a vain attempt: the energies radiating from the rapidly developing fetus were so immense that they were ripping cracks through the shield and shining brighter and brighter with every passing moment. His strength was already incredible, and Killer was worried that, at his rate of development, he might just decide to tear his way out of his mother at any moment. That pregnancy was definitely not going to last 9 months, but maybe it would be over in less than a day. The mother planned to devour the Child, but the Child, clearly, would soon be able to consume his mother from within.

What was that barrier that vainly attempted to hide his arrogant power...? Probably some sort of obscurant device installed on the Sentence. It didn't really matter: what was important was the fact that they were following the right trail.

And looking down at the planet, at one of the last puddles of blood-red water, it was clear that someone else had locked in on the Child's aura. Titanic Horrors, enormous enough to wade the ocean like it was an ankle-deep puddle, were moving forwards in a vast group led by two even greater figures, who burned with incandescent auras that Killer knew very well.

Even from space it was easy to recognize the spectacular shapes of their bodies, and Killer smiled a bit to himself. Mriya and Elaine were using their power to cut the sea in half, forcing the waters to lift off the seabed, to reveal what lurked beneath. They were clearly looking for the Sentence... and for the Audacious. Killer hadn't heard the voices of Galen and Sandy for a long, long while now, and that was a terrible sign. What had happened to them...? The thought of having sent them to their death in a metallic coffin on the bottom of the ocean was a true torment. He could only hope there was still time to save them, and thank them for their incredible courage. Even though communications had unfortunately broken down afterwards, they had accomplished their mission and proved that the Sentence existed, and that was something that only an extraordinary crew could accomplish.

Mriya and Elaine had clearly felt the Monster's energies too, because they were heading in that direction, without any hesitation... but just as Killer gazed fondly at his daughters, he realized with horror, that their bodies were encased in smooth darkness. His beloved Dream had that same fiery made of crimson hair that tormented him in his mind, in his corrupted memories... and a shiver went down his back at the thought of what might have happened to his beloved girls. Were they still the Mriya and Elaine he loved and remembered, or had they turned into the savage enemies who tormented his sanity under the orders of Darkness...? They had surrounded themselves in Horrors, and allowed those monstrous titans to serve them, to worship them, to fuck them... and he couldn't help but wonder if they had taken control of the Horrors or if they had been converted, turned into Horrors themselves... into slaves of Darkness. Were they searching the Monster to destroy it, or to join him...?

The thought of seeing them turning against him was unbearable enough to make his mouth hang open, trying to suck in a breath that refused to bring relief to his lungs. Fighting them in his mind was horrible enough without having to do it here as well. He instinctively prayed, begged for them to be sane, to still be the loving daughters he remembered... but while in the past that could have given him at least a little bit of relief, now only made him feel stupid. For all he knew, the only other divinities left above him were the Sisters of Fate, and they certainly were not going to help him in any way. Being God meant he had nobody to ask help to when things felt desperate... and he was still adjusting to that awareness. To that loneliness. He had never believed in gods, never taken much of an interest in religions at all... but at times, like mostly everyone, he had silently prayed. On the battlefield, or even in the corridor, while Alexis was giving birth... in so many private and emotional moments, he had prayed nameless gods in which he didn't even believe. It had still been somehow comforting. Now... well, everything had changed, obviously. Now he believed... but moreover knew the reality of divinities and their flaws and their powers.

His body tensed, muscles flexing even as he refused to ball his hands into fists, and Vera looked up at him with concern in her eyes, realizing that something was wrong, that he was worried, even scared... and she frowned, looking down at her... sisters... and realizing what had aroused his doubts.

Mriya and Elaine were as beautiful as they were intimidating, and their destructive power was terrifying, radiating off them in shockwaves that made space ripple and shake as if in fear of their strength. Darkness completely encased them like a natural, living armor, a second skin that was not only close to invulnerable, but able and eager to consume, destroy and absorb any weapon that was used against them. It made her swallow thickly as she began to realize the deeper implications of that beautiful second skin, but she still gently squeezed on Killer's wrist, reassuring him. She sensed no obvious hostility from the two goddesses.

And then, Mriya and Elaine turned around, looking upwards, straight at them, and Killer could see their eyes widening, even from those uncountable thousands of miles of distance. The two splendid females gaped for a moment, and Killer bit his lower lip, waiting impatiently for their following move... until their features beamed with complete, utter joy and delight, their rage almost completely vanishing away, causing their radiated energy to change completely, becoming hotter but less aggressive. The waters of the ocean, slave to their will and power, erupted towards the sky and twisted and danced in impossible figures, spiraling in ways that defeated the laws of physics.

The goddesses almost leapt into the sky to rush towards him, but he preempted them by eagerly teleporting himself and Vera all the way down to meet them.

He appeared right in front of their faces, smirking a little at how they completely dwarfed him despite him standing probably forty or more feet tall. Their faces alone loomed above him, their eyes glowing like suns as they looked down at him with adoration, tears of joy streaking down their cheeks. The titanic Horrors around them hurriedly went down to their knees, groveling before their glorious Father and Master. That they currently loomed over him like giants was completely meaningless: even while standing so much smaller than them, Killer radiated enough power to make them pale into insignificance, making it clear that, even with all their constant evolution and growth, they were never going to be anything more than the sweat of his cock, than the excessive, overpowered Alpha waste they had been born out of.

Killer gazed into the beautiful eyes of his daughters, smiling at them and spreading his arms in welcome, smiling lovingly at them... and Mriya and Elaine immediately leaned closer, carefully pushing their enormous muzzles against his hands, closing their eyes in pure delight as he gently stroked over their features.

"Daddy... you are back... you are finally back...!" Mriya exclaimed, full of almost disbelief even as her eyes opened and stared at him with love and need and relief. "We looked for you, I swear, we have searched every corner, roved even the stars..."

"Shhhh." Killer gently shushed, smiling and leaning forwards to kiss the side of her beautiful muzzle. "I know you did. It's not for lack of trying that you didn't find me... Thanathos led me to a world far away from this one. Too far for you to find."

"We would have gone the distance, daddy, whatever it was. In time, we would have reached you. We were never going to stop searching." Elaine assured, looking at him with adoration and concern, studying his body to see new wounds, new scars, and signs of the torture that she knew he had had to endure. Almost all of them were already invisible to the eye, thanks to his incredible regeneration and evolution, but her senses were sharp enough to detect the variations of energy, the new tissue from the old. She gulped visibly at the realization that his whole body had been cut open, tormented, poisoned, corrupted and pushed towards mutation. Everything that Cerberus and Thanathos had done, however, had ultimately only made Killer stronger. He was visibly bigger and stronger than ever before, and the energies he radiated were simply terrifying. The tortures and torments had somehow only spurred his body towards greater evolutions, increasing his powers to awesome levels.

Mriya and Elaine eagerly bent forwards to kiss his cheeks, making him laugh softly because of the extreme care it took them to do so, considering the immense difference in sizes between them: their lips touched him with such affection and softness that they felt almost like rose petals falling upon his skin... but given how tall the two goddesses were, their kiss touched at the same time his face and the monstrous shaft dangling heavily between his legs. It was clearly not unintentional, from the way their eyes glowed with playful teases and their whole bodies burned with the fire of their arousal and hunger.

That contact, however, was enough for Mriya to understand that something was wrong, and the two sisters traded a worried gaze before the ligeress asked: "What's wrong, daddy...? You are... stiff." She paused at that, smirking a little at the pun and playfully adding: "Sadly not in the way we like."

Killer snickered at that, before grunting in a mix of delight and surprise as Elaine slowly and carefully licked his enormous member with her tongue, which was literally larger than his whole body. It was a whole new sensation, and it made him flex, his back arching with the intense thrill of pleasure given by the amazing heat and by the bumpy texture of her tongue. Her eyes looked at him with a mix of love and uncertainty, begging him to reveal what was wrong... and he finally admitted: "it's not your fault at all, it's... it's me. I've been dealing a lot with my evil side, lately. Darkness is inside me and... through me, he's infected you too. I was... worried that... well...."

He didn't want to say that the sight of their naked, glorious, dark forms had scared him and made him fear that they would try to kill him, but it wasn't necessary. Mriya and Elaine nuzzled lovingly into him and closed their eyes, gazing into his mind and shivering as they realized the true torment he had had to endure. They saw the warped, evil versions of themselves. They saw the battles that raged in and around his memories, and they fully understood the reasons of his hesitations.

"Is it because of our looks...?" Mriya softly asked, and her "second skin" of darkness immediately split apart and receded from her face, revealing the familiar white hide and the golden hair that she had taken from her mother. Her beautiful eyes, now fully revealed, were uncorrupted and loving, her expression one of affection and understanding. Elaine pulled back slightly and ran a finger down her forehead and muzzle, smiling as it effortlessly cut the darkness into two and sent it slipping off like it was nothing more than a costume. "It is just appearances, daddy. For all the power this darkness gives us, it doesn't change who we are." Elaine assured, smiling as she naughtily let the darkness slid off her body all the way down past her chest, revealing her large, prodigious breasts and part of her perfect abs. She took the huge swells in her hands and slowly, tantalizingly pushed them together, winking at him as she sensually swayed her hips, sending the "costume" falling away further and further, inch after inch of her body revealed in its normal colors and in the full beauty that Killer knew and adored.

"Darkness spoke to us too, daddy. Darkness tried to take over our minds..." Mriya admitted, knowing that he would not be satisfied by half-truths. "Darkness does reside within us too. But he is utterly deluded if he believes he can get us to bend to his will. Only one of the things he said is true: you changed him. You took his power away and made it yours. Made it greater. Made it better. He is now trying to take it back, but he will never succeed. This is not his Darkness anymore. This is YOUR darkness. And we bask in it with pride." Mriya stated, grinning and tilting her head up, turning slightly around and pushing her own formidable breasts against her draconic sister's, the two goddesses grinding slowly and teasingly together, their chests battling for supremacy as their eyes half-lidded and sought his own, promising him all sorts of slavish servitude and lustful veneration. Their tongues wrestled together for a brief moment, dripping incandescent saliva that smashed holes in the crust of the planet when it smashed all the way down into the ground far beneath them. "We are yours, daddy, now and forever. Nobody will ever change that... but do tell us, Master, how should we look to best please you...?" Elaine breathed, pulling slowly back from the lustful kiss and letting her long, forked tongue loll out, all the way down past her breasts, dripping with dense, almost gel-like drool. He knew all too well what amazing pleasure that fluid could give when her tongue spiraled around his cock and milked it with rough, greedy hunger, and his monstrous black shaft stirred visibly, jumping as it flexed and grew, dropping several feet further down between his legs, majestic and omnipotent, leaking dense ropes of black precum festering with gigantic hypersperms.

"Should we be angels...?" Mriya said, half-lidding her eyes and giving him one of her best fake-innocence gazes, making him grunt with pure, unadulterated arousal as his whole musculature flexed and bulged with barely restrained hunger. The darkness peeled off her body almost entirely, puddling around her ankles almost like one of the skin-tight leather suits that made up most of Elaine's wardrobe, and the young ligeress turned to face him in all of her glorious perfection, idly running two fingers over the drenched slit of her sex, sending droplets of incandescent nectar falling down to pummel craters in the seabed down below.

"Or should we be monsters...?" Elaine continued, purring teasingly as her own darkness rapidly crawled back in place all over her, covering her features and turning her eyes into murderous stars of solid sapphire light while the loose, flexible scales of her mane took on a savage, burning brilliance that made the sun look cold and pale. She flexed, slowly and deliberately, showing off the way her perfect, hulking musculature bulged with power, and she clenched her fists, sending a multitude of great spikes to jut out of her back, like serrated blades that could maim and destroy anyone and anything. She was beautiful and deadly, and as she half-lidded her eyes and turned sideways, extending one spectacular, powerful leg, Killer smiled and slightly bowed his head to both of them, acknowledging their beauty.

"You are splendid, no matter what you... wear..." Killer softly said, smiling warmly as he admired them both, but finally moved towards Elaine, reaching out to touch her smooth black hide and grinning as it reacted to his presence, glowing with their combined energies. "But in this moment, after fighting so many times against your dark forms in my mind... well, I feel like experiencing the pleasure that the same dark forms can give."

"Ah, daddy...! You chose the best daughter." Elaine teasingly commented, grinning widely and pushing her glorious chest out towards him while the great spikes and blades retreated into her black hide.

"How dare you?" Mriya snorted in entertainment, shoving idly against Elaine's shoulder and sending her stumbling away as she stepped forwards and winked at her father, throwing her head back to swing her long, blonde hair up... just as they turned into supernatural, eternal flames of an intense, blood-like crimson. Her darkness wrapped tightly all over her body and features, somehow making her musculature even more perfect and imposing, firming up her prodigious breasts even further, following her perfect curves in ways that had Killer drooling and swallowing thickly, barely able to resist her magnetism. The perfect fangs of the two females glowed like stars, in stark contrast to their black hides, making their canines look even larger and deadlier but at the same time making their smile even more irresistible. Killer's eyes followed Mriya's fiery mane as if he was hypnotized, and the goddess smirked, tilting her head to the side and teasingly whispering: "You made the right choice, daddy... there's no reason for you to renounce to any of this. And I can tell already that the red hair gives you a whole different thrill... we'll get mom to take on this style too, sometime."

"I sure wouldn't mind that." Killer admitted, and Mriya grinned widely, swinging her hips and tauntingly bumping them into Elaine, wrapping one arm around her shoulders and teasing: "See? I'm still the best!"

The dragoness shrugged, looking entertained, before both goddesses closed their eyes and rapidly sized themselves down until the proportions between them and their father were restored. They threw themselves into his broad, masculine chest and wrapped their arms around him, hugging him tightly and burying their faces against his muscular form. "Welcome back, daddy. And sorry for failing to come in time to help you. We knew... we always knew that nothing and no one could hold you down." Mriya whispered, planting little, loving kisses on his bare, powerful chest and rubbing, squeezing and massaging into his broad, muscular back. She ground into him and sought the reassuring, wonderful warmth of contact in any and every way, almost clawing into his flesh with the intensity of her need. His scent, his heat, his solid, powerful form... to have him back was the greatest of all reliefs and the most wonderful of gifts.

"But even if we knew that... we were scared, daddy. Every minute that passed was a torture. Don't ever leave us again, please. Never, never, never...!" Elaine added, nestling her head under his, nuzzling into his neck and audibly sniffing in his masculine scent, her hands stroking, squeezing, exploring every inch of him that they could reach, shamelessly rolling down his front and pushing into the rough, thick, curly hair of his crotch, gripping into it and tugging teasingly at it as both goddesses slid one of their legs between his own, grinding into him and taking turns in teasing his heavy, low-hanging balls with their muscular thighs.

Killer wrapped one arm around each, squeezing them tightly against his form and closing his eyes for a moment, just filling his body with their warmth and his nostrils with their perfume, before nuzzling first Mriya, then Elaine, pushing their muzzles up so he could wrap his lips over theirs and kiss them, hungrily, needingly, almost viciously, his hands groping, grabbing, squeezing into their perfect buttocks, into their mighty muscles, into their spectacular thighs and their prodigious breasts. To have them back was paradise, and to own them while they were covered in darkness, while they proudly showed off their evil side and destructive energies, was liberating and arousing like few other things he had done in his life. For all his time in the cell, nailed to the cross, he had been tormented by the vision of his beloved girls turning against him. In those very same black hides they had savagely fought him, tried to maim and kill him, tried to destroy his memories, his very awareness... But now they were there, real, hot, eager, loyal and loving. His, not under Darkness's control. For all his power and arrogance, Darkness had not been able to warp and corrupt them. "I never want to lose you. I never want to be away from you again..." Killer replied, almost growling as he kissed them, their mouths locking together almost ferociously, drool leaking in ropes from their chins as they suckled and slurped on each other's tongue, eyes burning with love and lust as Killer moved from Mriya to Elaine, not even trying to swallow his saliva before kissing the dragoness, almost biting into her muzzle. "You can't imagine what it was like, to be forced to fight against you two... to see your eyes glaring at me with hate..." He hurriedly breathed, pulling back from Elaine's mouth just so he could assault Mriya's again, the ligeress welcoming him with a sigh and a gaze of utter adoration. "Never abandon me, girls... don't ever leave me alone again." Killer whispered when he again he pulled back, reluctantly, his voice coming out with a tone that was a mix of prayer and tease, relief and arousal. "Never, daddy, never... we are yours forever." Elaine promised, leaning up to lick his cheek and then nib teasingly at his thick, strong tongue, groaning out loudly as she suckled on it and at the same time ground her naked, beautiful sex against his leg, letting her soaked labia kiss and grip into his hard muscle.

Killer growled in hunger and delight at that, and he nearly bit into her muzzle, dominating her as he forced that huge, powerful tongue down her throat, almost raping her with it, drool bubbling around the corners of their mouths before Elaine let out a loud groan of delight and Mriya hoarsely hissed, grinning widely as the huge male shamelessly gripped into their naked groins and drove two huge, thick fingers up inside them, with no shame or reserve, burying them right down to the hilt, hefting them both up like they had no weight at all. They grinned widely, leaning forwards and all too eagerly hugging his massive shoulders, wrapping their legs around his waist as best as they could and bucking their hips with demanding, greedy rhythm. "Mine." Killer growled, and both goddesses grinned widely and nodded, leaning forwards to kiss his cheeks before growling: "Always yours! Forever!"

"Mine. Mine alone." Killer snarled, and they looked dreamily up into his eyes as he so easily dominated them, looming over her like a mountain even though their physical dimensions, in that moment, weren't so terribly different. He was less than one full head taller than them, yet he looked and felt like a titan, making them shiver and gasp breathlessly, tongues lolling out as he effortlessly held both of them high up in the air, letting them curl into his sides while his fingers began to piston in and out of them with savage rhythm, making them bounce and causing a wet, obscene squelch to echo through space as the two goddesses' dribbled their desire all over the moribund earth. "Daddy, daddy, daddy... always yours, daddy..." The two goddesses groaned and cried out, their backs arching and eyes rolling up in their skulls as he sawed his fingers in and out at a cruel speed, gyrating his digits within them, pushing almost violently against their incandescent insides and letting their new, larger, stronger labia of darkness clench hungrily into his finger and hand. Those strong labia almost literally sucked him in, dragging his hand forwards, trying to suck it in whole as the two goddesses flexed and the hellish heat of their insides made their juices almost boil. Lesser gods would have been driven back with shrieks of pain, but Killer only grinned hungrily, savoring the intense heat around his digits and the wondrous feeling of incandescent drops of clear nectar rolling down his arms. "This is the look I want to see in your eyes whenever you look at me..." Killer teased, grinning widely as both goddesses almost mewled in blissful exhaustion, eyes struggling to take peeks out as they groaned his name again and again, louder and louder, until they roared it out loud as they trembled violently and bucked, squirting their hot nectar out, groaning in unison as he expertly drove them to much craved and delicious orgasm, their eyes almost completely white with how far up they had one into their skulls as they spasmed and bucked as if electrified.

It lasted for several long and blissful moments, but then Killer allowed them to slowly fall back down from their high, smiling as he effortlessly held them all up just with the fingers buried inside their clenching passages, barely moving his digits at all. Every time he did, they groaned hotly, shivering as their sensitive sexes seemed to explode with sensations. "Mine." He once more repeated, softly and adoringly, allowing his daughters to flop forwards and rest their chins on his shoulders, and Mriya and Elaine both breathed: "Always and forever"... before Mriya turned her head slightly around and gazed at Vera, who stood, both out of respect and out of some sort of embarrassment, a step away from Killer, just slightly behind him.

"Thanks for bringing daddy back home... sister." Mriya finally said, smiling with sincere gratitude, and Samara Vera beamed, stepping forwards and half-hugging Killer's massive arm, grinding into his side and trying to find some words for that special moment... only for Mriya to snicker and lean down as soon as she parted her lips. Vera grunted in surprise as the ligeress almost savagely wrapped her lips over hers, nibbling, teasing, before forcing her tongue into the doberman's mouth. Vera was all too happy to play that game and, after the first moment of relief and surprise, eagerly worked back in tune with Mriya's movements, their tongues wrestling slowly and lovingly, struggling for supremacy but without violence... before Elaine leaned in and grabbed Vera by the long dark hair, forcing her to turn her head around just so that their lips could meet in a kiss just as hungry and lustful.

"It's nice to have another accomplice..." Elaine playfully said when she finally pulled back, licking her lips and winking, but Mriya grabbed Vera's shoulders and held her steady, studying her for a few moments and finally caressing her throat. "Such a nice body, and a fine-looking neck, too... too bad that you don't have a collar... yet."

"Believe me, I hope we can remedy to that really, really soon." Vera said, smiling as she shot a suggestive gaze up to Killer, who smirked and gave a little nod.

Elaine didn't miss it, and she grinned widely, commenting: "Oh, I'm sure of it. Daddy is clearly on a mood right now, and hell-bent on a hunt. I love it when that nice savage hunger rumbles on inside him..." The dragoness smiled and traced a finger down his herculean chest, while her other hand reached down to squeeze into Killer's enormous black shaft, making him release a low growl of eagerness. "It's nice to have you here, Vera..."

"Call me Samara." The Doberman proudly advised, and Elaine tilted her head to the side, savoring that name on her lips and thinking of its meaning.

"Good name. I like it a lot." The dragoness finally said, before slowly hefting up the colossal, still mostly flaccid black cock, grunting in pleasure at its sheer weight. "Good to have you with us, Samara... this is one demanding beast, and we need all the help we can get to keep it happy and well fed."

Vera grinned at that, looking hungrily up into Killer's eyes and adding her own hand on the monstrous member, squeezing firmly into that brutal, mastodon girth that made a mockery of their joint effort, keeping their fingers still well far apart, so much so that Mriya added in her own and still there was space to spare. Killer spread his strong legs with a smirk, looking down at them as they slowly moved their hands in synchrony, stroking down the leviathan, terrifying length of his cock, staring as it swelled even larger and pushed out even further from his waist, lazily stunning the world with its glory and coating their hands with thick, excessive, hyperpotent alpha waste that streaked down their arms in large rivers and solid ropes.

Killer knew he should have urged them on and that wasting time in that particular moment was definitely not advisable, but he bit his lower lip and threw his head back all the same, closing his eyes with a growl of bliss. For too long he had missed their touch, and for too long he had feared them lost, corrupted and turned into enemies. The relief and arousal that he now felt in having them serving and lovingly worshipping him, while in their dark forms... well, it was glorious. It was so rewarding that he decided he could give himself a couple of minutes. Just a couple of minutes.

Besides, as he closed his eyes he could finally hear all the other disciples as well, and feel their emotion as they sensed him. Their joyful voices filled his mind, bringing him relief and serenity, pushing the pain back and making him feel better than he had in a long, long time.

He smiled warmly as loving, strong arms wrapped around his neck, his legs, his arms, as mouths gently, adoringly kissed his feet, his biceps, his chest, his cock, his balls, his ass, his armpits, before eager tongues dived under his thick foreskin and slurped up heavy chunks of smegma filled with death and ruins, with the oblivion of entire worlds. His girls slowly and adoringly licked up the hulking, herculean profile of his muscles, eagerly lapping up sweat that was dense with virility and destruction. He felt it clearly: they were fully and deliciously aware that every little kiss, every little movement of their tongues over his supreme muscles lapped up enough masculine power to impregnate the whole of Reality for all of eternity, as well as uncountable trillions of lives needlessly, mindlessly snuffed out of existence. Every little lick scraped up whatever little was left of entire worlds that had shattered against him like mere toys, and the goddesses only felt compelled to do better, to drag their tongues for longer over the deep valleys between his bulging mountains of muscle. Diana humbly curled up around one of his legs, kissing his foot and crying tears of happiness as she welcomed him back. Lilith curled up around his other ankle, kissing his toes one by one and shivering in such helpless relief and delight that he could feel her trembling through his leg. His Praetorians humbly crawled to him, hugging his legs and pushing their faces up into his enormous, heavy balls, kissing and licking, grinding their features into his unmatched sperm factories but also into his ass, worshipfully licking it, alternating one loving kiss with a phrase of welcome or an apology for failing to protect him, for not having managed to find his prison, storm it and set him free. Pamela, Nikita, Crystal, Valery, Kate, all of them took turns in worshipping his balls and his ass, licking his inner thighs clean and covering their features with his intense masculine smell. Alcana pushed into his side and happily buried her face under his arm, suckling teasingly on the thick, curly hair of his armpit and breathing words of jubilation for his return. Adrasthea did much the same, hugging his hip at the opposite side, while Vicky lovingly took his elbow in her hands and kissed and suckled his fingers, one by one, crying in relief and bliss. Kathy did the same to his other hand, although her hands were soon massaging higher up along his almighty arm, stroking his enormous bicep, squeezing needingly into him as her eyes burned with desire. Gaia and Boadicea hugged him from behind, one at the waist, one around the shoulders, both goddesses grinding into him with adoration, planting little kisses over his muscular back and along his neck as they eagerly sniffed in his scent and filled themselves with his heat and strength, basking in his presence, reassuring and intimidating at once, which never failed to fill them with powerful, delicious emotions. Two powerful, muscular arms wrapped as best they could around his terrifying girth, strong fingers digging into the black meat, almost clawing into it as Sekhmeth hungrily pushed her face up against the underside of the leviathan cock, kissing and lapping, slurping and slobbering on the thick dark essence that oozed endlessly out of the immense member. Her black fur seemed almost bright when compared to that unholy batter of pure masculine power and her crimson hair was soon richly drenched in the dense stuff, becoming streaked with black virility. The goddess of Destruction slurped loudly on his essence, eagerly sucking those colossal sperms into her mouth even as they made her gag and almost retch as they mercilessly pushed down her throat, stuffing it so much that her neck was bulging when she tilted her head to the side just enough to peek at him from beneath his sky-eclipsing member. With her features completely caked in dark semen and apocalyptic ruin, she smiled widely, eyes glowing with pure bliss as she hoarsely breathed: "Welcome back, Master... it's great to see that all our enemies managed to do is making you even stronger!" She laughed at that, a cackle full of dark, merciless pleasure as she dragged her tongue along his shaft, deliberately curving this way and that to make sure to lap up the largest of the pale, dead stars stuck in his mighty cocksludge. She opened her mouth wide, winking at him as she let him admire the ungodly amount of dark essence clogging her throat full, before greedily swallowing in big, loud gulps, grinning as she listened to the last echoes, the last laments of all those worlds and civilizations that had been drowned and burned out of existence in that thick gunk. It made her shiver visibly, her back arching as she leaned up all the harder, grinding into his cock like a cat eager for cuddles. For her, that casual, destructive display of power on Killer's part was one of the most arousing things there could be: it proved that he was true Destruction, and that she was right to serve him and be a weapon in his hands.

Kaya was there too, planting kissed on his gigantic shaft, suckling and slurping and bubbling on the endless deluge of hypervirility coming from the god's sweaty cock, and when he gazed down at her she blushed but only sucked harder, until she could only cough because of how thick the dark stuff was. She gulped thickly a few times before finally breathing: "It's so beautiful to have you back, bro... Our father and mother are in good shape as well. Our brothers are the same dumbasses as always. They all just didn't want to come here right now because... well..." She snorted in entertainment and looked at Sekhmeth as the black lioness did her best to swallow whole a long, thick rope of precum that had probably already gone down all the way to her stomach without breaking. "They figured it would go exactly like this, I suppose..."

Killer smirked in entertainment at that, but he was truly relieved to hear that the rest of the family was safe and sound. His father, in particular... he was going to have to talk to him later, to hear the story of his... death. It was still a horrible thing to think about, even knowing that Seth had not actually gone anywhere, thanks to Kaya's fight against the Reapers to save their father's soul. But in the middle of all that joyful confusion there was one voice in particular that caught Killer's attention, the voice of Savannah as she purred: "Welcome back, Master and Father..." They hadn't seen each other in a long while, even before Killer was taken prisoner: he had ordered her to be especially careful and to avoid fighting because in her belly there was a new life growing. He had impregnated her at their very first meeting, in the estate of her father... and what a glorious thing it had been, with Savannah basically fighting her mother Manticora for the right to suck his cock and serve him. It felt like whole ages had passed since that day. Savannah had mostly spent her time in Heaven, grudgingly accepting to stay out of the fight just because he had explicitly ordered it. When Killer had been dragged away in chains, of course, Savannah had been just as desperate and obsessed as everyone else, and she had left Eaglenest to search him and to avenge him by disintegrating as many RA warriors and bases as she could. Of course, that was something that she was going to try and keep hidden, if she could. Probably a story better left for a distant future, when they could look back at those terrible moments with... well, not with smiles, but at least with serenity.

She smiled lovingly up at him before biting teasingly into his thick, sturdy foreskin, tugging on it in ways that would have had any other male beg for mercy but that only made Killer smirk and reach down to grab her head, squeezing lightly into her skull and grunting in delight as the other two zebras, his other two "Hooves of Doom", leaned down on either side of her. They pushed their long, snake-like, dexterous tongues right beneath the thick blanket of flesh that Savannah purposefully peeled back, and they hungrily scooped up large chunks of dark smegma that they began to loudly, obscenely chew, showing off how the hyperpotent paste glued their jaws together, forcing them into a real struggle. Killer murred in delight and swallowed thickly, staring at them, unable to deny the pleasure given to him by the scandalous cacophony that their mixed chewing, slurping and suckling made as they greedily played with his stinking, pestilent, apocalyptic waste. Every mouthful of thick smegma contained the stories of so many worlds, so many civilizations, so many eras and timelines, all abruptly terminated and dissolved just because the Alpha's foreskin had slurped slightly back from his cockhead. It was like eating universes whole, and it thrilled both goddesses in a cruel, sick but delicious way that made their eyes burn with passion. Manticora and Kimera looked up at him with gazes full of hunger, delight and relief. They pulled back from his cock only to chew and smack the thick smegma even more shamelessly, dealing with it like it was chewing gum and looking like they would have gladly tried to blow bubbles in it, hadn't it been simply too dense and chunky for it to be possible. They were beautiful and perfect just like he remembered them, and when they finally managed to get the thick stuff to one side of their mouths, they grinned at him and said in unison: "Welcome back! Never fuckin' dare vanishing like that again, we would not survive to it a second time." After being apart for literally millennia, one in Heaven and one in Hell, the two sisters spent together as much of their time as possible, and the old little antics and games typical of twins had returned in full force. They often completed each other's phrase, or ended up saying the exact same things at the exact same time... and Killer smiled back, kissing their bulging cheeks as they leaned up towards him.

Savannah was right between them, and the two older zebras, her mother and her aunt respectively, held one arm around her waist and shoulders, protecting and supporting her. And Killer's eyes bulged as he realized why, when he saw that Savannah had a beautiful baby in her strong arms. She cradled the baby against her bare chest, and Killer couldn't help but smirk at the sight of her tattoos, which included the words on her forearms, now so evident as she hugged the child: Invictus Victrix, words of celebrations for her flawless career on the rings of Heaven. They looked fantastic on her slender, powerful, toned body... and they were very appropriate. Few angels could claim they hadn't been punched and kicked around by Savannah at least once, and most of those who could just happened to not get on fighting rings at all. The beautiful zebra smiled warmly up at him, showing him the child and her full breasts, with her nipples leaking precious drops of milk.

"I can't believe I lost another birth... I wanted to be at your side. I wanted to hold your hand, and see this new life coming into the world..." Killer complained to the heavens, but he was nonetheless smiling widely, admiring that beautiful creature.

"A girl! A girl that will grow up strong and beautiful and perfect, a new treasure and toy for her daddy!" Savannah happily proclaimed, and the child seemed to agree with her because her face beamed with happiness and her sapphire eyes gleamed with bliss, her little hands reaching out towards Killer. The huge male leaned slowly down over her and nuzzled her, slowly and delicately, smelling her delicate perfume and kissing her cheeks and forehead with such careful gentleness that it looked like he was afraid of somehow shattering her like a porcelain doll. He easily could have, admittedly, despite the divine energy that very visibly filled the newborn's form, giving her the strength and the beauty of a goddess in her prime. She definitely promised to become a rare and stunning beauty, and Killer closed his eyes with a sigh of bliss as the child's hands grabbed the long bangs of his mane and yanked on them while she laughed and bounced in her mother's embrace.

"What's her name...?" Killer softly asked when he finally, carefully pulled back, but before he could straighten, Savannah teasingly slid a hand up the side of his neck and seized the back of his head, slowly and reverently guiding it up only a slight bit, just to bring his lips up to one of her nipples. "Taste me, my Lord and God, my Master and Daddy..."

Killer didn't need encouragement, and licked hungrily up the glorious slope of one breast before wrapping his lips around the large, proud black nipple. He took it between his teeth and teasingly squeezed and rolled his tongue up against the solid nub. A rich squirt of milk immediately rewarded his efforts, and he let out a low murr of delight at the taste of it, before suckling greedily on her breast as she pulled him forwards and teasingly urged: "Take it all, Master... it's all yours."

He murred in delight, nibbling into the large swell and drinking greedily of her milk, his hands reaching down to seize into her firm buttocks, spreading them, rolling them slowly even as he slid two fingers over her bare, drenched sex, feeling the hot wetness of her desire and making her moan in anticipation, a shiver running down her spine. He pulled back with a smirk, licking his lips, and Savannah grabbed his immense shaft, stroking it slowly as she easily held her daughter up with her other arm. "I've chosen a name for her, daddy... but I've waited for you to return. I wanted to properly... baptize her." Savannah grinned at that, hefting up the titanic cock and slowly pumping a thick rope of black precum out of it, letting it swell larger and heavier, stretching longer and longer, letting that great dollop of hypervirility loom over her daughter as she held her under the shadow of the colossal member. It was a sight to behold, as the dense precum festered with a tangle of sperms literally larger than the baby girl, who looked minuscule under the tremendous mass of Killer's astounding malehood.

Killer grunted in delight at that, and his enormous cock flexed and jumped arrogantly, swelling even larger and growing so much in length that the monstrous, spiked flare of the apocalyptic cockhead nearly smacked down over the baby. Savannah did not flinch, did not pull her daughter back: he owned her and her fate, and she would thank and glorify him whatever his decision: if he decided to cockslap her into mush, she would not protest. But the huge male, thankfully, had no intention of doing any harm to his new little angel.

"What is the name...?" Killer asked, watching down with a grin as the massive rope of precum dangled mere inches away from the little girl, who seemed to be basking in the great heat coming from the black gunk, cheerfully reaching out to touch it, her little fingers becoming glued into the sticky, dense batter. Amazingly, she wasn't afraid of the enormous, spiked sperms moving angrily into the great rope of hyperpotent essence. Savannah smirked at this, looking at her daughter with pride, and then she finally smiled up at Killer and said: "If you like it, I'm thinking of calling her Desire, because I wanted to give her to you... and while I waited for her to come, you were gone and my days became filled with nothing but the need, the desire to have you back at my side."

Killer smiled at that, in a mix of happiness and sadness at once. They had lost so much time, and they had all suffered so much... but now they were together again, and that was a special and happy moment that deserved nothing but joy and celebrations. "Then she shall be Desire Huxley, and she shall grow up to be a beacon of beauty and hope for all who will witness her glory." Killer said, looking down with a grin as Savannah and her mother, Manticora, eagerly pushed their hands into the massive rope of precum and pulled them back drenched and saturated in thick dark load. With it, they drew respectively a K and an O on the little girl's forehead, then on her chest, then on her groin.

It was the first time they performed a ceremony like that, but Killer immediately got the feeling that it was going to be the first of many. And the thought filled him with even greater hunger.

Killer needed a few moments to realize that Alcana was actually glaring at her daughter, Elaine, who blushed and turned her head to the side to avoid the daggers coming from the taller dragoness. He frowned a bit, not realizing why the goddess of Love was that angry, but Alcana herself made it plenty clear as she scolded: "You disobeyed, once again! Why have you got to be so reckless...?"

Elaine's cheeks burned at that, taking on a red shade that somehow was faintly visible even through the smooth hide of darkness covering her whole body, but the young goddess nonetheless found the strength to counter: "We knew the risk, but also knew we could pull it off. Why do you have to make things more complex than they are?"

"Because I care about you!" Alcana angrily exclaimed, before glaring at Mriya as well, adding: "And because I care about you, too, and with Alexis gone, I'm supposed to look after you both. If something bad happened to you, I... what would I even do...?"

"Mom... nothing bad happened. We got the job done." Elaine easily replied, trying to put an end to the discussion, but Alcana shook her head briskly and grumbled her disapproval.

"What is the problem...?" Killer quietly asked, and Alcana looked up at him with a big blush on her cheeks, shrinking a bit under his gaze as she hurriedly apologized for disturbing the happy moment of his return. The huge male, however, only looked flatly down at her, then at Elaine and Mriya, arching an eyebrow. That made even the two young goddesses gulp, the two sisters bowing their heads and knowing all too well that, with how protective and possessive he was about them, he would no doubt disapprove of their behavior. Alcana pointed a finger towards the Horrors, who still silently waited for orders, their heads bowed, their backs bent, and one knee against the seabed as they groveled before their Master and Father.

"They deliberately lured all the Horrors and... tamed them." Alcana said, her voice dying down a little and taking on a note of... could it be envy? And even grudging admiration, in some ways...? "We didn't know whether it would be possible at all. We had already dominated a few, sure, but... but they shouldn't have put themselves in such danger with such a reckless plan!"

Mriya and Elaine didn't dare reply to that, only looking up at Killer with hesitant smiles and with their best interpretation of puppy eyes. Which was pretty damn fantastic, as Killer knew all too well already. The huge male's first instinctive reaction was to shiver at the thought of those enormous monstrosities all attacking his daughters at once... and, even worse, he found he was irritated by the fact that Mriya and Elaine had allowed those monsters to fuck them. The two sisters had used and abused of those titanic beasts, and Killer was... jealous. Envious, almost, of the Horrors and what they had enjoyed. It didn't really make any sense, especially considering that the Horrors were literally manifestations of him, of his own virility and genetics... but it still made him feel angry in a weird, awkward way. On the other hand, as always happened, he found that he couldn't quite hold a grudge against his daughters, no matter how he tried. He was the one who said most of the NOs in the house, and Alexis was the one who helped the girls get around him when he banned them from doing things. He was super-protective of them, and Mriya taking up underground tournaments without telling him, with Alexis's blessing, was only one of many cases in which his excessive worries had been ignored. In the end, he rarely protested. It was almost a game, at that point... a little game with clear, unwritten rules about what was acceptable, when and how. 99% of the time, Alexis was the girls' accomplice and sometimes even the source of the sisters' ideas... but the funny thing was that 1% of times when Alexis said no. Alexis's NOs were few, but they contemplated no disobedience. When it was time to put a stop to the sisters', Alexis's word was the one which truly accomplished the magic. The girls had learned all too well that Alexis's rage was never to be aroused and never, never, never to be challenged.

In front of those innocent looks they gave him, even knowing that Mriya and Elaine were never innocent... Killer always ended up playing along. Alexis, however, was immune to those and to all other tricks. Probably because she is even better than they are at getting things to go her way just with one gaze...

And that was exactly the reason why Mriya and Elaine had grown stiff and, for once, looked at least a little repentant: they had disobeyed to one of Alexis's orders, and they were genuinely afraid of the consequences. Killer looked down at them, shaking his head slowly, and then he sighed, shrugging a little before admitting: "We don't give them the best of examples, do we...? Reckless plans are our greatest talent..."

Alcana rolled her eyes at that, but she couldn't quite claim it wasn't true. Mriya and Elaine beamed, smiling up at him in a way that filled his heart with joy... but which also made him snort in entertainment, his hand rising to stop them from hugging him as he playfully grumbled: "Don't you dare thinking I don't know what you just did there! You and your goddamn puppy eyes! I'll talk with mom, but you owe me."

"You can always ask, daddy... whatever you want..." Mriya whispered, leaning forwards and giving him a little wink that, along, was enough to make his blood boil and his enormous shaft flex with hunger.

Alcana was not quite ready to let it go just yet, however, and she pointed her finger at Elaine, glaring at the black, beautiful hide covering and armouring every inch of her daughter's body as she growled: "And why did you let your energies Invert in that way...? With Darkness clawing into our minds, every minute of every day, it is dangerous to do that. You risk allowing him to take over your minds!"

That made Mriya and Elaine shift uncomfortably on the spot, the dragoness bowing her head in front of her mother, who, almost as effectively as Alexis, could actually lay down the law on them. Killer did not intervene immediately in their defence, this time... and the two sisters, for once, didn't even try to look up and seek his assistance. They knew they had accepted a lot of risk, and couldn't deny it. They wanted to say that they knew what they were doing and knew their strength well. They wanted to scream that they were powerful, and mature, and that they were far stronger and more capable than they were given credit for. They wanted to complain that they were no longer little girls, but soon-to-be-sworn Praetorians. But, in front of Alcana's glare, they said nothing. After a few long moments of awkward silence, they actually apologized... before adding: "But it worked. Our plan worked. We got rid of the RA underwater bases. We stopped the Horrors. We taught both the RA and Lunis a lesson."

"We are all happy and grateful for that, but you two need to learn some restraint and prudence. We didn't order you into safe tasks because we don't value your abilities and contribution, but because we needed to be sure that you were safe. Alexis had more than enough things worrying her without having to fear for her daughter's safety... and the same is true of me." Alcana replied, looking from one to the other. She spoke in a gentler voice than before, but with the same firmness and authority. And when Pamela stepped forwards, the two adult goddesses traded a look and a nod.

"Praetorians follow orders." She reminded, and Mriya and Elaine both looked up with slight gapes, shivering as they were reprimanded by the Captain of the Praetorians, the leader of the elite Guard that they craved to join. "If Master says stay back, we stay back. We don't like to let our Master face risks on His own, but He is supreme. We have no other Law beyond his word. What he commands, we do, to the letter. No ifs, no buts. So you will have to learn the lesson, and start to listen, if you really want to become Praetorians."

"Yes, Captain." Mriya and Elaine immediately replied, bowing deeply... and at that point, Killer decided that the sisters had had enough of a lesson for the day. He reached down and seized them by the shoulders, pulling them into his sides and squeezing them tightly as he announced: "I've approved their Inversion myself. They have demonstrated that they are too faithful to me to ever be wowed by Darkness in any way, so... I've told them that it's fine. I like them this way too."

"You... approved...?" Alcana hesitatingly asked, blinking in surprise and staring at him in disbelief. Had he truly tried to keep Mriya from kicking demon asses on a ring, where she was in no danger at all considering her terrifying strength, just to then authorize her to invert her energies from a focus on Creation to one on Destruction?

"Come on, say it. I'm crazy. I really am." Killer easily replied, smirking in entertainment. "But yes, I approve of it. Not permanently, no... but I find I admittedly find it arousing like hell, if you want the unadulterated truth."

Sekhmeth cackled at that, straightening up in all her stunning beauty and wrapping a powerful arm around Mriya's shoulders, dragging her close and pushing their heads together, crimson hair against crimson hair, teasing: "You have a mighty kink for evil redheads! I've known since our very first meeting, from how you looked at me."

"Well, you are more than just your crimson braid, Sekhi... but yeah, I guess you might say so." Killer amusedly replied, before playfully adding: "Must be my taste for danger. Where I'm from, they use to say that the nicest of the redheads threw her mother into a well."

Sekhmeth chuckled at that, eyes glowing with hunger as she turned to kiss Mriya, their tongues wrestling together in a messy tangle as they gazed sideways up at him, their hands exploring each other's body and going down to tease blossomed, enchanting labia that dripped with desire.

"Well... that is... interesting." Alcana admitted, before smirking suggestively as licked her lips and asked with fake innocence: "Do you think you will like my own Inversion as well...?"

"I'm sure of it." Killer easily replied, and a shiver of lust ran down his spine at the sight of the hungry, eager gazes he got from all the others as well. Sweet little Diana and Kathy, in particular, stared at him with such intensity that he rumbled hungrily, closing his eyes for a moment as their thoughts filled his mind: images of his caring, loving angels turning into black, evil goddesses of destruction and domination, as savage as they were normally shy and caring. Crimson hair, wings turned into weapons, feathers like blades and flame, their bodies bare and invulnerable, beautiful and eager as they crawled to him in chains and laces, bloodied and insatiable, broken and yet only ever asking for more, for harder, for worse, even as he beat them with vicious force and fucked them into pieces, turning their holes into bloody chasms, filling them up with unholy, terrifying litters of new gods and goddesses... only to then fuck them all into bloody mush, devouring their energies and adding them to his own.

Gaia, too... he looked down at her and a crackle of pure energy seemed to come from their gazes as they met in midair. He had seen some of the darkest side of her, loved it and tamed it and abused of it, but he had never experienced her full Inversion. A divinity inverted when it turned its back on its nature, bending its vows out of shape. For the Goddess of Nature, inverting was a particularly vicious process, because she was all about creation, evolution and nurturing of Life. Her inverted form was going to be an apocalyptic force of destruction, torment, corrupting and pestilence. It was a terrible and yet incredibly arousing thought... especially because Gaia, who looked like a seraphic, shy, kind soul, was actually a ravenous demon when it came to sex. She knew how to make any Succubus blush in embarrassment and stare to learn a few moves. Inverting was going to turn her into a truly insatiable predator, and Killer couldn't help but think what that was going to feel like...

And if that wasn't enough, he rumbled hungrily as Sekhmeth floated towards Vera, eyes glowing with lust and playfulness as she wrapped her arms around her waist, gripping her firm buttocks and yanking her forwards until their black-fleshed labia kissed wetly, almost audibly. The lioness was still a couple of heads taller than Vera despite the growth of the Doberman, and she basked in that advantage, pushing her huge breasts over Samara's ones, squishing them in ways that made Killer's jaws drool, before the two females locked their mouths together and their tongues wrestled with evident, shameless arousal.

"Thanks for bringing back our Master, babe..." Sekhmeth hoarsely breathed when the kiss broke, and Vera grinned before leaning forwards to bite the lioness's long, forked tongue, gripping the feline's shoulders and hefting herself up, wrapping her powerful legs around the goddess's waist. Sekhmeth grunted in surprise at that, but smirked in nothing but approval, swaying her hips seductively as they ground their soaked vaginas together.

Pamela moved towards the new goddess as well, kissing her on both cheeks and appreciatively grabbing one large, firm breast, before the other Praetorians stepped forwards as well, welcoming Vera into the family. "With the collar around your throat you will be perfect..." Pamela said, smiling sensually as she ground her body against Vera's, their hands lustfully exploring each other's bodies, and the other Praetorians and Disciples agreed, moving forwards to meet the newcomer, the lost daughter of Killer that now returned to the Father. The enemy turned sister. "Having helped our Master in the moment of most pressing need is an excellent resume, Samara Vera..." Pamela added, speaking as captain of the guard, a role that she took very, very seriously. Nothing about being a Praetorian was a game, or a mere fact of lust: yes, they were sexual servants and proud to be slaves of their Master and of his every wish, but they were also guardians, warriors entrusted with the supreme honor of protecting their God and be His weapons. "I hope you will join our ranks."

"It is becoming a tradition for the daughters to join the Praetorians, I'd say." Mriya teasingly observed, trading a grin with Elaine and then with Savannah, Kathy and even Boadicea. They all were determined to become part of the guard and had started their training in all the arts that their sacred role required. They had to be formidable warriors and had to be equally adept at serving their Master in any way he might require: they could be ordered to tongue-bath him and they had to know how to do it in the most pleasurable of ways. They could be ordered to prepare food, sing for him, dance, tell stories... they had to be seducers and servants as well as powerful protectors. "It would be nice to have you with us... sister." Elaine added, smirking as she traced one hand down the powerful abs of the Doberman and then squatted down before her, eagerly nuzzling into the young goddess's blossomed labia and suckling lightly on the dripping, drenched flesh.

"It will be a true delight..." Samara breathed, grinning widely as she reached down to grip into the long, loose scales that made up Elaine's mane. The dragoness's eyes glowed with pleasure and hunger in reply, and her hands firmly gripped the doberman's hips, pulling her forwards so to push her muzzle all the harder into her hot, welcoming folds.

Boadicea reached down with one hand and gripped Vera's groin, the two females trading a look supercharged with hunger and sensuality as the sharkess pushed two fingers inside the wet passage, right alongside Elaine's tongue... and the lips of the princess of Hell curled up in a smirk as she sentenced: "Nice and tight like hell... oh, you haven't lost your Killer-virginity yet, huh...? A little, virginal cunt that hasn't yet been opened up to the true delights."

Vera was, of course, far from actually being virginal, but Killer had not yet plunged inside her... and given his sizes and power, Samara had no doubts that it would prove to be a whole new level of destruction. One from which there truly was no coming back. She gazed up at her father, licking her lips slowly, her emerald eyes glinting with hunger and complicity as she looked right up into his while confirming: "Yes, I've only ever known inferior, unworthy males. But our Master and Father will soon show me the Truth."

"You can fucking bet on it!" Sekhmeth exclaimed, grinning sharkishly and shamelessly grinding a finger that dropped with hot saliva down the doberman's crack, teasing her little, tender asshole, causing Vera's short tail to twitch visibly. "And what a great, massive, juicy Truth it is..."

Killer rumbled in delight as the Disciples and Praetorians took turns at greeting Vera, at exploring and worshipping her body, at teasing her and grinding together, their legs spreading to reveal their base labia all glistening with hot, pearly need that streaked in rich, spectacular rivulets down their muscular thighs. It was a spectacular sight that filled his entire body with hunger and need, fire and energy, but he did his best to resist. Killer closed his eyes and pushed back against all those temptations, telling himself that there would be time in the future, in better days, to explore every last pit of depravity, every last sinful desire. Now they had to move, and strike down their enemies. Only with Cerberus, Thanathos, the Sisters and Darkness all out of the way could they truly relax and enjoy each other's presence. And much as he was excited at the idea of seeing Alcana, Gaia and all the others Invert and reveal the beautiful but savage monsters that lived inside them all, he told himself that he should not ask. Not yet. That wasn't the moment to risk more than was strictly indispensable, because Inverting meant getting a lot closer to Darkness, his energies and his hungers and aims. It meant opening a door that the primordial deity would inexorably try to exploit. Mriya and Elaine had already ran an enormous risk; there was no justification for pushing again against that dangerous boundary. Besides, they had more urgent things to do.

Sekhmeth, not for the first time, was the one to actually bring order and discipline back in the group as she asked: "What is our next move, Master...? I'm sure you teleported here not just because Mriya and Elaine are making it rain with how much their pussies drip with need for your cock." The black lioness grinned widely at that, shamelessly gripping into Mriya's groin and sticking two fingers deep inside the younger goddess, who threw her head back with a rumble of pleasure. "The girls here found a lead that might bring us to the Audacious... and to Sikanjal, too. That's our target, isn't it? "

"Sikanjal is the reason why I came here." Killer confirmed, looking out over the blood-red ocean. The Sentence was somewhere under all that toxic, poisoned water, and Sikanjal was on board, doing her best to hide. He couldn't sense her energies, but she was clearly there, all the same... the monstrosity in her belly was making no effort to hide his constantly growing energy signature.

"I bet that this energy in the air is part of it, isn't it...?" Gaia quietly asked, and Killer nodded in silent confirmation.

"We started sensing this burning energy only a short while ago." Adrasthea explained, looking down at the sea. The crimson waters were surrounded by the much thicker, denser black gunk that kept spreading all over the planet as Killer's monstrous hypervirility continued to rape and impregnate the planet with powerful, parasitic life. "For a brief moment we sensed Sikanjal's presence as well She felt... battered and weak, but at the same time euphoric." The goddess of strategy said, and her features tensed in a grimace for a brief moment. It had been a shocking thing to sense, one that had admittedly sent a shiver down all of their backs. Sikanjal jubilant at the end of a battle, after all, could only mean horrible news. "She quickly dialed back her energies and got behind some sort of... shield, for good measure. We lost her even before we could get an idea of her position. She clearly portaled in from somewhere far away from here."

"Yeah, from my prison." Killer bitterly confirmed, and Diana gave a little nod before quietly adding: "We... suspected it." She closed her eyes, repressing a shiver, and then hesitatingly observed: "This energy signature has a remarkable... well... resemblance... to yours. It worried us all immensely. We didn't know what it might mean."

"Well, let's just say that Sikanjal has borrowed an idea from you, Alcana." Killer said, turning to look at the dragoness with a soft smile of entertainment. The goddess blushed a bit and only gave a nod of understanding. She had immediately understood what he was talking about: early on, she had been so obsessed with him that she had taken on Alexis's appearance to trick him. Back then it hadn't worked out, but had served to start one complex period for their relationship... one they now looked back to with amusement. Sometimes they even played that same game of teasing that had been the rule in those days.

Killer shrugged a bit, knowing that the nature of the problem was now clear to everyone around him, and he only added: "Sikanjal just made sure to trick me while I was blue-balled, furious, nailed to a cross and with a primordial god hell-bent on messing up my mind."

"So now you want to fuck the whore until you make her vomit up the pulped remains of her child...?" Sekhmeth enquired, grinning in cruel delight at the thought and slowly spreading her muscular legs, shamelessly playing with her soaked, dripping labia and looking straight up into his eyes as she used two fingers to spread her slit open, flexing her powerful form to show off how her passage clenched. Killer let out a rumble of delight and hunger at that, knowing all too well how extraordinarily strong her sex was, how brutally it could squeeze whenever she arched her back and tensed her muscles. "That is the idea, yeah..." Killer said, grinning easily as he slowly stroked along the terrifying length of his cock, scooping huge handfuls of black gunk off his monstrous shaft as it thrummed with power and flexed with cruel vigor, oozing off an endless deluge of excessive masculinity. The goddesses around him, even Diana and Kathy, stared at that murderous monument of hypervirility with shivers of delight and of hunger, hips bucking in time with the great, powerful thrums of the veiny shaft, their mouths drooling at that sight of that monster that wasn't even hard yet but only lazily, partially aroused. It jutted out in front of him, immense and glorious, only semi-hard, arrogantly displaying a form of boredom with even the glorious array of lustful goddesses all around, as if even they weren't enough. Its colossal, flared head was only partially revealed, still wrapped in thick, rough foreskin as the monstrous shaft angled downwards under its own monstrous weight. Mriya and Elaine grinned widely at the sight of that glorious, tremendous monster, and they turned around to point their hands against the ocean, forcing a large portion of it to break apart as all the water was forced absurdly up into the air, revealing the seabed beneath. "Sikanjal made her worst and last mistake in coming back to this planet. She's rushed right into the lion's maw." Mriya cheerfully exclaimed, before looking up with a smirk as Killer floated slowly forwards and pulled up his massive, majestic, almighty right arm, almost lazily extending his palm towards the ocean beneath, making it ripple from horizon to horizon even before he began to apply his energies.

"True, but I think she was convinced I had no chance of breaking free... and she basically declared war on Cerberus and Thanathos with her little stunt, which in turn means the Swarm as well. She probably felt like she had no alternative. Here she has a mobile, well hidden base with the laboratory she needs. Elsewhere, she would be hounded by the Swarm without having any support." Killer calmly explained, shrugging a bit before effortlessly, almost absently causing the whole ocean to part open before him, the crimson waters retreating all the way towards the expanding mass of dense, hyperpotent black gunk, against which it helplessly evaporated, vanishing in mere instants. Mriya and Elaine stared at that idle display of power with admiration and with a hint of envy, but everyone's attention was quickly monopolized by the incredible sight of the previously unseen plains and canyons and mountain ranges of the seabed. It was a breathtaking and alien scenario, made all the more impressive by the sight of a great number of submarines, which could only belong to the RA. Suddenly left without water to float into, they plunged ruinously towards the seabed, only to be ensnared by a multitude of thick, massive tentacles of black flesh that tore out of the stone. Killer's almighty corruption and hypervirile essence spread rapidly, turning the seabed entirely black, cracking the stone and replacing it with flesh and massive chords of muscle that grew without control or restraint.

Some of the submarines fired their torpedoes in a blind, desperate reaction, and the huge weapons plunged uselessly down to the bottom, exploding against the growing masses of muscle and solid corruption. Killer couldn't help but smirk in cruel entertainment at the thought of the crews sealed inside those tubes of steel, without a view of the outside world. He could imagine their confusion as their boats were suddenly thrown around, tilted at absurd angles by the enormous tentacles that coiled around the hulls and crushed on them with enough force to dent and deform the submarines. The steel groaned loudly, helplessly crumpling under the force of those muscular appendages, and Killer looked down at them with a little grin, idly wondering: "What should I do with these little toys...?"

"They could make good little trinkets..." Elaine suggested, smirking in dark entertainment, and Mriya gestured towards a few of the nearest ones, causing the great black hulls to slowly slip out of the tangles of tentacles. They flew up towards her, helpless toys that weighted ten thousand tons each and yet floated like soap bubbles, slave to her terrifying power. "I might have an even better idea." Mriya commented, and the submarines shrunk rapidly, becoming cigar sized in the space of mere instants, and then as small as pills... and then even smaller, until the young goddess opened her jaws and pushed her long, forked tongue out, just as the tiny submarines spun on their tails. She winked at Killer, her fangs glowing an incredible while against the black background of her tongue and of her hide, her incandescent drool dripping from her maws as the submarines poked into the side of her tongue and finally pierced through as she allowed her invulnerable flesh to part slightly. One, two, three, four... they formed a ladder of piercings on her tongue, and she flaunted it to her father with a teasing look that very clearly promised a whole new level of pleasure for him. She flicked her tongue at him, coated in that hot, slick drool that could give him such delightful sensations whenever she wrapped her lips around his member, and he rumbled in approval, nodding a little and saying: "You girls always have the best of ideas... take them all, they are yours."

The goddesses grinned and murred in delight, making sure to get at least a few submarines for themselves. Some ended up used as trinkets, little jewels for boots, belts and bras, but Mriya's idea proved very popular as well, particularly with Elaine and Sekhmeth, but even with little Kathy. The only limit to their creativity was the number of submarines, way too small to satisfy them all. They could have multiplied the submarines in any moment, without any kind of effort, but they didn't because that would have been cheap. No, their jewels had to be true enemy vessels. True weapons of a true, humiliated enemy. True coffins for hundreds of lives snuffed out of existence.

Within moments, what was left of the RA's fleet, which had terrified and enslaved every country of the world, was completely annihilated, cancelled from history like it had never existed at all. All the billions it had cost; all the work it had required to be built; all the men and women that had crewed all those ships and submarines, all of it for nothing. All of it helpless before the terrifying power of the goddesses.

With the ocean literally gone, the Sentence finally appeared, many miles away from them and yet so immense to stand out clearly in all its majesty. It was a true monster, something unlike any other submarine ever built or imagined. As they rapidly closed the distances with the doomed war machine, helpless prisoner of the massive tentacles growing out of the rapidly mutating seabed, they could admire all details of that incredible creation. The Sentence was literally miles long, and had a truly remarkable beam, even in proportion with that incredible length, because she adopted a shape that had no precedents: she had, very clearly, three hulls, the main one in the middle, massive and with sloped, stealthy flanks and a prominent, sharp bow; and two slightly shorter ones, mostly cylindrical in shape, on the flanks. These hulls ended in massive, encased pump-jets that propelled the Sentence while producing almost no noise at all thanks to an innovative propulsion system that accelerated the flow of water through a shaft inside the hull. Two massive water inlets, shaped to reduce the insurgence of cavitation, were well visible in the bows of the two side-hulls. They looked a bit like the air inlets of a fighter jet, giving the whole Sentence the appearance of a sort of leviathan aircraft, or a spaceship, rather than the looks of a conventional submarine. The water entered massive shafts that ran through the entire hull, and passed through pump jets, or propellers, or some kind of other propulsion system that, being hidden deep into the hull, behind walls of steel and noise-absorbing shielding, made little to no noise, making the Sentence virtually undetectable.

The propulsion system was evidently localized near the bottom of the side hulls, with all remaining space taken up by weaponry: enormous torpedo tubes at the front, adding to the many visible in the bow of the main hull, and then a low row of massive armoured hatches which, without a doubt, covered multiple tubes for colossal ballistic missiles tipped with gods knew how many nuclear warheads. Killer had studied military equipment for all his life and he had no doubts that those hatches were far, far larger than any other system he had seen on normal SSBNs. The RA's love for gigantism had evidently created a new sort of monstrous ballistic vector, far larger and with a far greater payload than any other.

Smaller but even more numerous hatches were arranged in rows all along the top of the side hulls, and each lid obviously covered a vertical missile launcher containing cruise missiles, anti-ship missiles and, probably, even surface to air missiles for good measure. Normally, a submarine has no use for SAMs, but the Sentence was clearly intended to be more of a submersible battleship, perfectly capable to fight on the surface as well as in the depths. The top of the bow of the main hull, in fact, was flat and paved with anti-slid material and painted with lines that clearly identified it as a runway, no less, with four huge spots for helicopters and also vertical take-off fighter jets. The runway extended in front of a massive superstructure that obviously worked as hangar for the Sentence's air wing. A massive watertight hatch, more similar to a titanic garage door, allowed the aircraft to move out and directly onto the runway.

On top of the superstructure there were three stealthy, angular turrets arranged in a row, and it was clear that they were massive rail guns, only with their barrels currently angled downwards and stowed away inside the sloped structure of the towers. With those mastodon weapons, the Sentence could, had her missiles and torpedoes not been enough on their own, sink any warship or raze to the ground entire towns from a distance of thousands of miles, well outside the range of the enemy's defences.

Finally, almost all the way back over the stern of the Sentence, which was wide and flat and had an array of rear-facing torpedo tubes, was the conning tower of the monstrous machine. Calling it fin, or conning tower, though, was very much reductive, because that structure was massive, dwarfing many multi-storey buildings. Its sloped, stealthy sides visibly included enormous flat radar arrays, which could track aircraft and missiles flying in a range of thousands of miles. The rear of that enormous tower seemed to conceal something else. Something huge and very unusual, judging from the sizes of the doors that could be guessed in the structure.

Mriya and Elaine, having collected information on the Sentence's design while on board the Judge, were able to help the others guess what was there: a space shuttle, no less, much as it sounded insane.

Killer arched an eyebrow at that explanation, but he had seen enough to know that he could expect literally any kind of excess and madness from the Raja family. He wondered how many years had been necessary to build that monster, and wondered whether the work had started even before Cerberus was actually born. It was a possibility, albeit remote. For sure, it had required decades. Too many, in fact, because just like the Judge and the Unmanned Combat Walkers, those technological wonders had effectively arrived too late to ever accomplish their mission. They were easily able to crush any mortal military out of existence and force any nation into surrender or oblivion, but they were of little use against divine power, that dwarfed even nuclear warheads into insignificance. Unfortunately, the Rajas had understood it early and had adapted their plans... had they tried to "just" take over the world with their super-ships and combat robots, like they had clearly originally planned, Killer would have been able to put an end to their attempt with less than a sneeze.

As a consequence of the long design and build time, the Sentence, just like the Judge, was a mix of "old" and sci-fi solutions. Some parts of her, built early on, had literally grown old while the rest of the boat was built. And it was probably because of the mix of components and building techniques that the Sentence had ended up being, despite the advanced propulsion system, a lot noisier than hoped. The RA had remedied to that by adding a constellation of unmanned, tethered mini-submarines that sailed all around the Sentence, receiving power and exchanging data thanks to massive, sturdy cables, generating a false "sound image" of the submarine's surroundings, effectively cancelling the Sentence's true signature.

Now those drones dangled pathetically at the end of their tethers, just like the endless "tails" of the towed array sonar systems. Those were so long that, with the water gone, they literally touched the seabed far below, resting over it like grotesque, miles-long serpents.

Sandy and Galen had clearly landed a few hits on the monster, amazing as it was to think. The stern of the Sentence was visibly deformed and badly damaged, and although it was nowhere near enough to truly cripple the monster, it was damage significant enough to have forced the RA to send out mini-subs for immediate repairs. Four such submersible vehicles where hooked to the Sentence's hull and they had clearly been working, thanks to massive mechanical arms, to fix the worst of the damage and seal up the vast breach. Now those same minisubs were vainly fighting back against the titanic tentacles, breaking their pinchers in the pathetic attempt of hurting those colossal appendages. The minisubs had mechanical "hands" that could bend plates of steel like they were handkerchiefs and laser cutters and blades and tools to repair heavily armoured hulls, but none of those instruments had a prayer against the invulnerable muscle of those savage tentacles.

The titanic monster-submarine, for all its world-beating power, was now helpless and doomed, held aloft by muscular, powerful tentacles that kept growing and that were already thicker than the Sentence's hull. They had to be incredibly "gentle" not to crumple the submarine by mistake. To them, the RA's pride was nothing more than a weirdly-shaped tin can. Only Killer's restraint kept the Sentence from becoming a flat, useless bit of metallic junk.

There could be no longer any doubt about the source of the evil, tremendous energy that they clearly felt burning in the air: the Child was definitely on board the Sentence, and even in front of their arrival it arrogantly refused to tune down his strength. He seemed to be challenging his father to come, and that arrogance only added to Killer's hunger and ferocity.

There was one thing that had precedence over even getting rid of the Child, however, and Killer hurriedly gestured sideways, sending the tentacles holding the Sentence swaying out of the way, to reveal another, far smaller submarine effortlessly held up by a single great tentacle.

One quick look at the casing was enough to confirm that it was truly the Audacious... and as soon as the Sentence was moved out of the way, Killer almost recoiled as his mind was filled with desperate prayers. Galen, Sebastian, Sandy and all the others on board the boat were begging him for help, and had clearly done so for quite a while. The huge male gritted his teeth and immediately rushed forwards, biting his lower lip in pure, terrible guilt for failing to help them in that terribly dangerous mission he had sent them on. Clearly, the Sentence was truly equipped with an active shield system that not only kept Sikanjal's energy signature hidden, but also prevented the use of psychic powers to communicate, to read minds, to sense presences. That was why even Alexis couldn't localize the Sentence... or better, she couldn't even tell for sure whether she existed or not. As soon as the Audacious had gotten too close to its target, that blanket of psychic noise had effectively wrapped around the boat and cut them off entirely, not just from technological communications, but also from mental ones.

And now Killer could see that the situation on the Audacious had worsened well beyond the simple loss of communications: the RA's minisubmarines had swarmed the SSN and had established connections to every hatch leading into the boat. They were there, attached to the Audacious's hull like parasites: three around the control planes in the stern, one on top of the conning tower, one on the bow hatch, one on top of the stern hatch. The RA troops had boarded the Audacious and what was left of the submarine's crew was attempting to resist in the very stern, in the machinery spaces.

And being so close to Sikanjal was driving Sandy and the others almost insane. Their minds weren't strong and tough enough to survive the tremendous psychic pressure that the demonic goddess generated with her mere presence. In his mind, Killer could already hear the screams and cries of agony. He could already listen to the suicidal thoughts forming in the minds of the sailors, and he was horribly aware that some of them had probably already shattered and put a gun against their own heads. He could feel the shock, the fear and the despair in those that remained, and hear their thoughts as they struggled to pin down their shrieking, insane shipmates to try and keep them from committing tragic mistakes. Thankfully, Sikanjal hadn't moved directly against the Audacious jet yet: Galen and the others had absolutely no hope of resisting her if she decided to subjugate or destroy them all. It was a double relief to see the Audacious still relatively intact: it also meant, after all, that the monstrous pregnancy was truly crippling Sikanjal, more or less pinning her down, too weak and heavy (literally) to do anything. She clearly hadn't yet recovered from the terrifying damage that Killer's cock had inflicted on her body, and the huge male had every intention of completing the devastation he had started.

"Surround the Sentence, and make sure that no one gets away!" Killer ordered, and Pamela immediately passed the order on to the Praetorians, who took position all around the gigantic submarine. The crew inside the RA's monstrosity were still trying to understand where the ocean had gone and why their sonar and all other systems had basically gone mad, and Killer snorted in dark entertainment when he spotted the great masts of a couple of periscopes pushing out of the top of the gigantic conning tower. Mriya and Elaine cackled, giving the finger to the prominent "heads" at the top of the masts, armed with large optical and thermal cameras. The Sentence deployed its radar and communications masts as well, and when the RA crew realized that they were out in the open air, with the water gone, they turned on the massive radars in the sides of the tower. The Praetorians felt those great beams of electromagnetic pulses crash against their bodies, but it was less than a massage applied with warm oil. The goddesses stood tall and proud, naked and glorious, looking down at the submersible battleship and idly playing with their folds even as the great, thickly-armoured hatches of the missile tubes swung open.

"Don't damage the Sentence more than is strictly necessary." Killer commanded. "I want to give it to Galen and Sandy to command. They are probably going to appreciate it more than any medals or other prize."

The Praetorians nodded in agreement, only slightly annoyed by the fact that they couldn't wreck the great machine. Not that it could have ever provided much entertainment, anyway: even Kathy could bend the miles-long hull of the Sentence into a pretzel like little more than a thought, if she wanted to.

The goddesses lazily watched fire and smoke erupt from the countless launch tubes as the Sentence fired its missiles against them. They shot high up into the air, then arched downwards and raced against the Praetorians, only to explode uselessly in midair long before getting anywhere near the glorious females. They crashed against invisible but invulnerable barriers of energy, without the goddesses even having to lift a finger. The great turrets on top of the Sentence stirred into life and trained towards Mriya, Elaine and Pamela. The stealth doors in the turrets slid open and revealed massive, square-ish rail gun barrels that immediately swung up, taking aim... and then beginning to fire for effect, crackling with terrifying discharges of electricity at intervals of less than a second, each time hurling massive rods of adamantine metal alloys at hypersonic speed.

Mriya only grinned as those enormous darts tore through the sky, whizzing against her at tremendous speed... and looking little more than motionless to her sharp eyes. She effortlessly slapped the first rod out of her way, using the back of her hand, before catching the second like it was nothing more than a fly, quickly crushed out of existence. The goddess laughed darkly as she caught the great projectiles one by one, snapping them like twigs and tossing the pieces away just in time to snag the following ones out of the sky. There was nothing that the Sentence could do against her monstrous strength, and the other Praetorians were equally invulnerable, making a mockery of the submarine's efforts.

Killer waited for a brief moment, worried that Sikanjal might come out and fight against his daughters, or even that that Monster-Child himself could rip out of his mother to charge recklessly at them. His power grew constantly, his energies burning in the air all around them with ferocious, terrible intensity, and soon he might be able to take control of his mother... or to devour her to add to his power.

Nothing happened, other than the Sentence firing even the last of its missiles. It exploded uselessly in the middle of nowhere, just like all the others before it, and when the enormous cloud of smoke began to be blown away by the wind, Mriya and the others were still there, grinning sharkishly down at the doomed submarine.

Killer decided that his greatest priority was the Audacious: Galen and the others needed help, and quickly. Vera, Sekhmeth and the other goddesses followed him, and when he savagely rammed his shoulder into one of the RA's minisubmarines, crumpling it into a flat piece of wreckage and knocking it off the Audacious's casing, the others followed his example. Vera went for the parasite submarine that had docked at the hatch on top of the Audacious's tower, and she couldn't help but laugh darkly at the ease with which she could grip those hundreds of tons of steel and tear them clear off the casing, breaking the watertight connection tube like it was made of paper. Sure, she had destroyed entire planets with complete ease, but that was a feat she had accomplished in an almost dreamy state: it was something so immense to contemplate that it felt strangely... moot. Somehow, knowing that she was lifting 500 tons of mini-submarine with a single hand and with the ease of lifting a feather was more immediately understandable and exciting.

Boadicea swung her immense spear-mace, Satan's Bane, down on the minisub connected to the hatch aft of the conning tower, crumpling it like it was a cheap tin can. Sekhmeth dropped onto the black, smooth casing of the submarine and charged down its back towards the X planes that governed it and that were being manhandled by three minisubs with their great mechanical arms.

One of the subs had its periscope deployed and the crew inside dared to try and fight back, swinging up an immense mechanical pincher and snapping it closed around her. The goddess laughed cruelly as she caught the pincher's edges in her hands, the metal crumpling like paper in her invincible grip as she effortlessly pushed the two extremities away from her, ripping them open so wide that the enormous hydraulic actuators shattered and their pieces exploded away like shrapnel. The black lioness yanked the broken, heavy arms right off the sides of the submarine and swung them like clubs, beating the parasite boat into a flattened, unrecognizable piece of scrap metal, before tossing away what remained of her improvised weapons. "Give me a challenge, you weaklings!" She growled, smashing her fist into the front of a second submarine and reaching through the thick hull like it was made of paper. Her fingers grabbed a skull on the other side and crushed it into a pulp, before she yanked the lifeless corpse out through the breach, laughing as she tossed it away. She swung her fist sideways, cackling as she tore through the thick steel like it was water, and her hand smacked into the second RA technician at the commands, crushing him flat against the bulkhead before she tore through that too, sending a splatter of blood bursting out of the broken submarine. She charged forwards, flexing her formidable body as she barreled through the front of the submarine and smashed through all internal bulkheads, spreading her arms wide and annihilating everything that dared stand in her way, stomping RA troopers like they were ants and finally running right through the propulsion block, her muscles turning solid steel into something of a liquid that she effortlessly moved through.

She emerged from the stern of the devastated submarine, brandishing its shaftline complete with the still-spinning propeller at its extremity, and she turned sideways to hurl it like a javelin, spearing the third minisub and sending it falling off the side of the Audacious, grinning as it plunged through the air towards the seabed, a good three miles below. Before they could crash, anyway, she snorted in contempt and crushed the boat with her psychic force, turning it into a splatter of liquefied, incandescent metal.

It all lasted mere instants: the RA's machines never had a prayer.

Killer stood on the edge of the circular hatch, which the RA had locked in the open position. A vertical, narrow ladder led down into the submarine and a group of terrified troopers were already firing their assault rifles up through the hole. The huge male allowed the bullets to uselessly taper against his masculine chest, snorting in contempt as they shattered into little more than dust.

"How are you going to fit down that hatch...?" Vera teased, looking down from the mini-bridge on top of the conning tower, which was used when the submarine sailed on the surface, especially during entry and exit from port. The circular opening had been designed for large sailors, since even the smallest of tigers made for a big hunk of muscle, but Killer was so far above average that the passage looked minuscule in comparison to his herculean body. Alcana snickered at the sight, her eyes glinting with entertainment as she teased: "You look exactly like your cock when you slap it down next to a helpless pussy. Something out of a whole different world."

"I've always manhandled the holes until I fit through them, nothing new." Killer easily replied, even though he sized himself down until he stood "only" 22 feet tall or so. Any taller and he would have had to distort Space across the whole of the Audacious. With an idle flick of his wrist, he caused the hatch to absurdly gape wider open as reality trembled violently, as if in fear of his power.

He stepped forwards and let himself fall inside the compartment, grinning as his foot hammered down on top of one of the RA troopers, bending him so violently that his spine audibly snapped and his body flopped down onto the metallic floor, where it was crushed as flat as pancake, his blood spraying up onto the bulkheads. The Spirit device exploded right under Killer's foot, but it was too weak to even get noticed by the huge titan.

Another RA assault trooper stood before Killer, framed in the light coming through the open door to the corridor beyond, and even as he desperately yanked on the trigger of his rifle, unleashing every last bullet into Killer's chest, the liger calmly stepped forwards and grabbed him by the face, hefting him clear off the ground and smacking him against the ceiling hard enough to squish his head into an ugly crimson stain on the metal. Killer smirked and tossed the corpse right into another trooper standing across from him, and the Spirit device exploded just in time to tear his face apart with a burst of metallic shrapnel. Another trooper swung an electrified mace into the base of his spine, but Killer barely noticed at all, not even bothering to look as Adrasthea grabbed the soldier by the shoulders and ripped him in half like he was a figure drawn on a piece of paper.

Killer looked down the corridor leading to the extreme bow, past the small office of the sonar team and the buzzing cabinets that were the brain behind the Audacious's sensors, but there seemed to be no RA soldier in that zone of the submarine. Maybe there was a team downstairs, in the torpedo room, if they had any residual interest in checking the weaponry that the submarine had at its disposal, but even that was relatively unlikely. Sikanjal certainly hadn't any interest in how much explosive was in the Northern Empire's standard torpedo, or what was the exact guidance system of the cruise missiles, after all. She was far too powerful to be concerned by petty mortal technology and weaponry, which was utterly powerless before her. No, the reason why the Audacious hadn't been simply destroyed was clear in his mind: there were at least two sons of his on board the submarine... and likely several more, if they checked. Every person with Killer's blood in them made for a potentially very interesting test subject and source of new powers and evolved abilities. Sikanjal, besides, was more that sadistic enough to just crave his sons as meat for her cruel games and experimentations, especially if, like Galen and Sebastian, they had also dared challenging her and had somehow sneaked up on her invisible underwater fortress. She craved revenge, without a doubt.

He tossed a quick look down the incredibly steep ladder leading down towards the crew spaces and, one floor further down, to the weapons depot, but he saw no one and heard nothing but the quiet humming of the computers and of the Audacious's other systems. He spun and walked in the opposite direction, tossing an absent look at the shattered armoured door of the armoury and gazing briefly into the small room of the captain, which had clearly been invaded by RA troopers that had looked through all of Galen's and Sandy's belongings, looking for gods knew what.

Vera greeted him at the open hatch leading into the control room, and Killer made a bit of a grimace at the sight of the screens and consoles hastily destroyed with bursts of armor-piercing bullets. A crude but effective method to deny the enemy the control of the submarine. Vera gazed up at him for a moment, clearly curious about that whole submarine escapade that somehow was being given the priority on even raping Sikanjal into pieces. She had already picked up the clues, though, and read into Killer's mind enough to see that the captain of the boat was another of her countless stepbrothers. That was enough of a reason for running to his rescue, at least for the moment. There would be time later on to ask Killer for the details.

"All clear." Samara said, and Killer gave a nod of agreement and quickly walked through the control room. Even after shrinking himself down, he was so massive that he still had to duck slightly not to bang his head into the tubes and bundles of cables that ran along the ceiling. They passed by the long vertical ladder that, through multiple hatches, let all the way up to the small open-top bridge on top of the conning tower, and made matching grimaces as they walked past or over the corpses of several dead RA troopers, all invariably mutilated horrendously by the explosions of their Spirit devices.

And then, inexorably, Killer came across the first fallen submariner as well: one of the Audacious's senior rates, who had been caught by several bullets while running towards the stern of the boat. Further ahead he spotted a few more Audacious's shipmates crumpled horribly on the floor where they had collapsed after being struck by vicious bursts of gunfire. Blood and bullet cases covered the floor and large splatters of crimson stained the bulkheads on all sides. In the crew's hallway, the thick tents that hid the bunks, stacked two high on either side of the corridor, were almost completely soaked in blood and hang heavy and increasingly rigid as the vital fluid dried. A great number of RA troopers had been mowed down by the fire of several machine guns, and the huge number of brass cases on the floor were a clear sign of the ferocity of the brief but devastating fight. Killer sighed, then looked again at the broken submariner at his feet, breathing quietly and wondering whether he truly could bring people back from the dead. With what limitations? The Reapers had already carried the souls away, undoubtedly. Was it possible for him to get them back? Was he powerful enough to find the right souls, "grab" them and extract them from Heaven, Hell, or perhaps even the merciless Unworld...? He had been taught in no uncertain terms that resurrection was a true miracle, something that was beyond the possibilities of most gods. Those who had successfully resurrected someone had only ever been able to do so in the immediate aftermath of the death, when the soul was still within reach... or only after locating the soul first, so that they only had to create a new body, which was the easy part. No one had ever been able to reclaim a soul from the Unworld, which was the Death that came after death. When a soul moved past the afterlife, past Heaven and Hell, and ended up in the merciless darkness of the Unworld, destruction followed. The dark dimension crumbled every soul into pure, disassociated energy that flowed back into the cycle of Life, to become part of new objects and new organisms. Motes of energy that had belonged to a single person could end up spread across millions of newborns, mixed with bit and pieces of countless other past lives. They could end up being part of billions of unanimated objects, as well. Nobody had the power to prevent it, and nobody could undo what the Unworld accomplished. That was what history, science and knowledge had to say. And yet, in his arrogance, that he tried to hide but that was always there, roaring within him, he was wondering whether that boundary applied to him as well. After all, he could absorb even Unworld residue, consuming it instead of being consumed by it, and that was another thing that was supposed to be impossible. There were creatures who were known to have survived the Unworld, but almost all of them had lost their minds and grown afflicted by the most various and weird of obsessions. Almost all had turned into lonely shadows of their former selves, retreating into pocket dimensions or living at the margins of the Unworld, hoping to eventually find closure but at the same time unable to give up the extraordinarily tenacious will that kept their energies from breaking apart. It wasn't a happy fate, and while a Broken was exceptionally difficult to damage in any way, it usually couldn't stray very far away from the Unworld. Outside of the dark dimension they rapidly lost coherence and dissolved, unless they could sustain themselves by draining all energy from everything organic. The few Brokens to have successfully adapted to their new nature had ended up becoming enormously dangerous psychopaths, almost invulnerable and able to drain their enemies with terrifying ease... entire coalition of gods had been necessary to tackle the strongest ones that had somehow crawled out of the Unworld. The Brokens survived the Unworld, but were inexorably reshaped by it, always in tragic ways. Killer no. Killer was something else, however, something unprecedented: he could not only survive exposition to the Unworld without taking any permanent damage at all, but he could consume the world around himself with far greater ease than a Broken. There seemed to be nothing at all that his hulking body could not tame and absorb. Organic, non organic, toxic, poisonous, radioactive... even the Unworld residue itself. He could not only survive their effects, but consume them all and grow even stronger, feeding on them. Nothing could ever hurt him for long: his body constantly adapted itself, consuming everything it was exposed to and evolving not only to achieve immunity, but to master the threat, improve and evolve it, turning it into a weapon at his disposal. The first time he was exposed to some deadly toxic substance or tremendous pestilence he went through agony, but nothing, not even the Unworld residue, had ever been strong enough to inflict enough damage quickly enough to truly damage him. The second exposition often barely stung at all, and if it caused any sort of damage, it also fueled his regeneration. The third exposition normally worked like a shot of energy that only purely made him stronger. That was the key to true omnipotence, and the secret that Cerberus, Thanathos, Sikanjal, Darkness and even the Sisters of Fate were trying to steal from him. Killer had never dared entering the Unworld to consume it, but that was what he was in theory able to accomplish. That was the whole idea behind Cerberus's plan: stealing away Killer's unique power of constant, endless Evolution and then use it to absorb everything and everyone else.

The insane, monstrous idea revolved around plunging into the Well of Eternity, where Chaos, Unworld and Reality touched, where they were intimately connected. There, where literally all energies flowed, his body would absorb terrifying, indescribable amounts of raw power by consuming and dissolving everything, from the Threads of Life to Chaos itself. Every sparkle of energy ever to exist would have been devoured, consumed and rebuilt into a new, single, limitless, omnipotent divinity.

Cerberus, Thanathos and the Sisters were convinced that the idea was good and viable. Killer, on the other hand, was half thrilled and half terrified. What if they were wrong? What if those titanic, indescribable flows of energy simply incinerated him...? Not too long a time had passed from when he had struggled to absorb the energies of a single Anchor, after all. If a single Anchor could nearly burn him out of existence, how could he possibly deal with the Unworld whole...? And with everything else on top of it...?

But that Anchor had only been the very beginning. Since then, his power had grown at rhythms that were simply awesome, swelling like a landslide: how many Anchors, Gods, Stars and Worlds had he consumed earlier, just after breaking out of his prison...? There was no counting them. He had gone from struggling with one Anchor to devouring multiple ones without even noticing, like they were nothing but candy.

The Unworld no longer looked so vast and dark and scary. Even if a soul had sunk into the darkness and had been shattered in a trillion pieces, maybe he could still reach out for it and piece it together again, bit by bit. He had killed Gods with a lazy thought from multiple universes of distance, after all... what challenge could it really be, at that point, to locate molecules and atoms across the expanse of Existence, and take them into his hands?

Killer felt a shiver running down his spine. It was a glorious yet scary thought. The one thing he truly craved was the power of never having to say goodbye, after all. His mortality had never overly concerned him, but he had always been horrified by the awareness that all the faces he loved and cared for were, one day, going to abandon him. Losing his loved ones was his true terror. His true selfishness was in his being unable to let go of those he loved. That was the true, chief reason why he had turned the ones he cared for into Disciples: he wanted them strong because so they would be safe. He wanted them immortal, because so they would never leave him. That was what so excited him, and made his chest heave as his breath nervously quickened. It was simply wonderful to think that it might be possible for him to bring people back from the darkness of death and oblivion. It could cancel so much pain, and put right so many wrongs, and fix all of his past failures! How wonderful would it be to bring back Vanessa, for example...? And how relieving to bring back Galen's fallen shipmates, who had died to execute his orders.

But it was also possible that his attempt would result in abject failure. Worse than that, he might end up creating nothing but a puppet, a corpse given incomplete, "artificial" life. He might unconsciously turn the people he resurrected into nothing but images of his opinion of them, in the good and in the wrong aspects. If he couldn't piece back the original soul, he couldn't truly bring back the people of his past, but only unholy simulacra.

All those thoughts rumbled and spiraled violently inside his mind, making his head pound, adding to the pain coming from Darkness's relentless, savage assaults against his memory and consciousness. He stared at the dead submariner without really seeing him, without truly noticing the holes in the overall and the terrible wound that had pretty much disintegrated half of the sailor's face. Those were just details, unimportant in front of the questions that tormented him.

Samara stood by his side, waiting in silence and imagining the conflict, the worries, the hopes that crowded his mind. Diana walked up to them, coming in from the control room, and her steps became slower and silent as soon as she realized what Killer was staring at, and she imagined what he was thinking. She walked up to him but stood silently at his side, quietly waiting for him to make his decision, ready to help him as soon as he asked, but not daring to disturb him in any way.

"I sent them on a suicidal mission. I asked them to face the greatest fleet ever seen... on their own." Killer finally whispered, and Diana nodded quietly before squeezing his hand, reminding: "You did, but you had no alternative. You needed information. And you could not imagine what followed. Had the contact not been lost, you would have helped them every step of the way. I know you had every intention to."

"I had, but I failed to help them when they most needed me." Killer bitterly replied, before squatting down, careful not to squish the corpse under the titanic mass of his semi-hard cock, which audibly smacked the floor as soon as he began to drop down. The carpeted steel floor almost dented under the monstrous weight of his shaft as several feet of solid meat lazily sprawled across the narrow corridor, looking like an anaconda sunbathing, distended over the ground and the massive boulders that his testicles resembled.

Killer tried to ignore the monstrous contrast between his enormous member and the body of the mortal, which looked almost like a toy in comparison, and he reached over to gently put his hand on top of the bloodied, devastated head of the fallen submariner. "I must at least try and put things right. I owe it to them."

Diana only nodded and watched on in nervous awe, in anticipation and fear. There was no need to remind him of all the risks and uncertainties connected with the miracle he was trying to accomplish... his expression made it plenty clear that he was aware of it all.

As always, Killer had no exact idea of how to accomplish the miracle he was aiming for, but for once he was comforted by the awareness that very few other gods would have known any more than he did. He just closed his eyes, and focused on the cold corpse, on the head under his hand. He tried to sense the life that had inhabited that body, and tried to visualize its past... and much as he felt stupid doing it, he kept trying until confused images filled his mind, almost exploding into his skull and making him recoil with a grunt of shock and surprise. He could suddenly hear the broken, hurried breathing of the submariner as if he was living inside him. He found himself running in that same corridor, ducking uselessly as bullets loudly ricocheted into the bulkheads, sending sparkles falling in fountains of light all around him. He desperately half-turned, continuing to run even as he blasted two, three, five, six rounds out of his ordnance pistol, not really aiming at all, only trying to get away quickly from the heavily armoured assault troopers that were charging after him, using their shields to protect themselves from his reaction.

And then he cried out in pain as fire seemed to erupt into his ankle, and he staggered forwards and nearly fell over, blindly grabbing into one of the bunks to the right. Another stinging, terrible flare of heat exploded into his arm, and then he let out a gurgling, strangled sound of shock and agony as another hit him in the back... and finally all went dark with one last brutal explosion of pain, directly in his head.

Killer opened his eyes in surprise and pain, gritting his fangs and blinking a few times to try and regain his normal eyesight... before the corpse laying on the floor stirred and rolled over.

The submariner instinctively screamed in terror and sheer confusion, his eyes opening wide as soon as his devastated head was done regenerating. All that came out of his throat ended up being, at best, a breathless gasp. The sailor bumped into the drawer at the bottom of the stack of bunks, and he grunted in confusion, trembling in fear as he blinked and tried to clear his eyes to understand what was going on, and Killer bit his lower lip, unsure of what to do and afraid that the young officer might have gone insane. Doubts tormented the liger's mind, and a voice within him asked in an accusing tone: what if he had reached Heaven and found happiness there? What if he didn't want to come back at all...?

Killer almost cursed himself, by then convinced that he had screwed up badly, but the submariner's eyes found him in that very moment, and opened wide. The sailor disbelievingly reached up to touch his face, to feel his features, to make sure that they were truly there... he clearly remembered half of his head exploding as he died, struck right in the back of the skull... and yet there he was, with no damage at all in his body. The uniform was tattered and the bullet holes were just as evident as the great amount of blood that drenched the cloth, but the flesh beneath the ripped fabric was intact, untouched. For a moment, the sailor stared straight up at Killer's face, gaping in confusion... and then the submarine blushed and winched in embarrassment as he sat up a bit, trying to normalize his breathing and stop his chest form heaving so evidently. "Your... your highness! Your majesty, I... I... don't know. I was running, then a bullet ricocheted through my ankle, and..." The submariner looked down towards his feet and clearly stared at the large hole in the fabric, eyes open wide at the sight of his skin, intact and undamaged. "And then I remember my stumbling, and... everything going black..." The submariner continued, his voice almost dying away to silence as he wondered whether he had gone insane, whether he was living a sort of dream.

"Don't worry, it's okay now." Killer awkwardly replied, trying to reassure the sailor and impatiently seeking some sort of reassurance himself: had he brought back to life the real person, or merely breathed artificial live into a corpse? He let go of the sailor's head and easily helped him straighten and sit up, then asked: "How... how do you feel? Do you feel different in any way...?

Killer immediately regretted his enquiry, hating how incredibly lame the question sounded... but the submariner clearly took it very seriously, because he sat back against the bunks, calming down somewhat and thinking for a few long moments before breathing: "No, your majesty... God almighty... I feel well, but not different. I feel stronger, perhaps... better than I've felt in many years, in fact, but... not different, no."

"Do you remember your past...?" Killer urgently asked, leaning forwards slightly and studying him with urgent curiosity. The submariner blinked in surprise at that, but then clearly thought of his family and origins, and finally nodded. "Yes, my god. I remember everything with clarity, right to the pain in my back and the last, violent pain exploding in my head..." The officer took a deep breath, looking down at his bloodied but intact body and finally incredulously whispering: "I died, didn't I...? My god... yes, it all went black! I died...!" He panted hard, looking at the world around himself, seeing the blood on the shredded tents of the bunks and the empty bullet cases on the floor, and the corpses piled up one above the other in messy, bloody heaps further down the hallway. "I died, and you brought me back to life!" The sailor clapped his hands together and bowed before Killer, closing his eyes and bending forwards as deeply as he could before shifting position, getting on his knees so he could fully prostrate himself before his God. He gaped at the sight of Killer's gigantic black cock, admiring it for a few seconds, in awe of its terrifying girth as it seemed to fill up the corridor, its flared head simply immense. It forced him to shift a couple of steps to the left before he could grovel, pushing his face against the floor and smelling nothing but Killer's overpowering virility as he exclaimed: "God almighty, you came for me! You listened to my prayers, and you extended your mighty arm and pushed Death away from me! Thank you, my God! Thank you, thank you, thank you... how can this unworthy servant ever repay you for your generosity?"

"I did not want any of you to die because of me. I had hoped to assist you and protect you during your mission, but... things became complex." Killer awkwardly replied, blushing a little and feeling weirdly embarrassed in front of all that gratitude. The submariner meanwhile crawled forwards slightly and began to kiss the toes of his foot, one by one, chanting words of praise and worship until it was time to move on to the other foot... which was impossible because the arrogant, glorious mass of Killer's cock stood in the way. "Your virility dwarfs me, my god... almighty and unrivalled, it casts its glorious shadow on me. It deserves endless worship, but I don't dare, unworthy as I am, to touch it without my God's permission..." The submariner whispered, not even daring to lift his gaze up from the floor. Killer let out a bit of a grunt at that, and then straightened, standing slowly up and saying: "You are far from unworthy. Nobody on board this submarine is unworthy: you have faced terrible odds and succeeded, and have not faltered, not even in front of the worst of dangers. I admire and respect you all."

"Too kind of you, Master." The submariner gratefully replied, visibly shivering in a mix of awe and fear as the gigantic black cock dragged heavily along the floor and finally lifted off the ground as Killer stood in all of his hulking glory. The colossal member had left behind a deep, visible crater-print in the floor and had completely soaked the carpet with the thick black gunk of hypervirile Alpha waste, precum and sweat. The sailor stared at this in awe, then leaned over and kissed the black stain, whispering words of thanks and of awe. Killer swallowed a bit at that, unsure about whether it pleased him or it freaked him out more. He was sincere when he said he had the utmost respect for their efforts. Few other mortals would have accepted a mission that dangerous and fewer still would have carried on with it in front of odds that became worse and worse by the hour. He traded a look with Vera, who smirked up at him in entertainment, and then with Diana, who gazed at him expectantly, already knowing what was coming even before he said: "Tend to him, Diana, please. Make sure he is in good shape, and... and tend to the others, too."

"Sure." The goddess replied, smiling and helping the sailor to stand up, her hand glowing with warm, soothing energy as she made sure all his wounds were perfectly healed and as she discreetly reached into his mind with her own, making sure that there was no damage and helping him relax a bit.

The mortal was understandably euphoric and shivering in a violent mix of emotions, overwhelmingly good in nature but nonetheless dangerous for him as they kept his heart racing... especially as he watched Killer idly holding one hand out as he walked past other fallen submariners, his fingers glowing with endless, almighty power that instantaneously dissolved the corpses of the RA troopers, vaporizing them so utterly and mercilessly that it was like they had never existed at all.

"Glory to our God, because he is invincible and omnipotent!" The resurrected submarine exclaimed, crying tears of awe and happiness as he saw his feared enemies cancelled from history like stains from a sheet of paper, while his fallen comrades stirred and opened their eyes with great, shocked gasps as their lungs desperately called for oxygen after the inactivity of death.

"Glory to you indeed..." Vera amusedly commented, gently squeezing Killer's hand as the huge male so easily resurrected the other submariners, not even stopping by, just walking past and letting his endless energies permeate their corpses, regenerate their bodies and piece their souls back together. "You were so worried, and now look at you... already handling it like a piece of cake."

"It is a piece of cake..." Killer replied, and his voice almost trembled, shaken by a mix of excitement and fear. His muscles flexed, bulging explosively as he snorted steam out of his nostrils, a powerhouse filled with excessive, almost uncontrollable vigor. His immense black shaft jumped up, thrumming with power and swelling even larger even as it smacked audibly into his muscular legs as he walked right past the astonished, disbelieving sailors he had just resurrected. They groveled in front of him, shouting praise and worship and humbly reaching forwards to kiss his feet or even his tail as he walked past. They crawled after him on their knees, and he half loved and half hated it, at once delighted and horrified by his power over their entire existences. Was he actually doing the right thing? Did he have the right to toy with life in such ways...? "I had no idea where to start from, Vera... and despite that, I only had to... to wish it. To try it once, just once, and it was done." Killer mumbled, awkwardly pulling up his other hand to greet the submariners that reached for his legs and feet, that cheered him and thanked him and worshipped him. "And after doing it just once, bam! It's like I've been doing it in forever. It feels so easy... so fucking easy... It is supposed to be impossible, it is a miracle even to the eyes of gods, and yet to me it feels as easy as breathing. I feel like I could resurrect every last mortal who died on this planet, and even that would still feel easy. Almost boring!"

"And how is that a bad thing...?" Vera quietly asked, smiling and tilting her head to the side as she squeezed firmly on his hand. She gazed up at him with amusement, and then commented: "You know, we haven't been together for too long, but I can already see that you think way too much."

"I don't think it is possible to ever think "too much" about something like this." Killer interrupted, but the young goddess reached up and gently pushed one finger against his lips, silencing him and gently explaining: "Yes, daddy, you are right in principle... and believe me, I'm absolutely convinced that we are very lucky that this unprecedented power is in your hands and not in someone else's. I don't think I'd be able to trust anyone else with all this power. The fact that you think of us in everything you do is truly reassuring... but I don't want it to turn into a torment for you. I'm overjoyed at the thought that you can truly bring my mother back. I'm endlessly relieved at the thought that... no matter what Cerberus... might have done to Nadia... well." She paused, shivering, but as soon as he lightly squeezed her hand, all fears retreated away from her. "Nothing he can do to her... nothing... is going to separate me from her. It is a selfish thought, I realize it, but it is a true relief. How can it not be a relief for you as well...?"

Killer looked down at his daughter with love, and he bent down to nuzzle her and lightly kiss her lips, savoring her taste before straightening and explaining: "My dear, sweet Samara... it is a relief. But it is also an immense responsibility. I cannot just... bring everyone back, forever and ever. It would grind the natural rhythm of life, growth and evolution to a halt. It would turn our ever growing numbers into a cancer that consumes every world of Existence, and forces me to create new ones just for sustenance needs. It would make us all poorer in the end... but since I'm selfish, I will never be able to let go those that I love. I will have to live with the weight of my choices, with the burden of the justified hate of all the others, of those who will lose their loved ones, who will still have to say goodbye while I never have to."

"I... I didn't consider it in those terms..." Vera admitted, bowing her head slightly and realizing the wider implications.

"Yeah..." Killer murmured, before smiling a soft, sad smile as he added: "And do you know what worries me even more...? Now that I know that I can bring people back from the oblivion, it will be almost impossible not to see entire worlds as toys. It was hard enough at times to resist the temptation when I had consequences to be afraid of... now even that bit of restraint is gone."

"We'll keep you busy and satisfied, dad. I'm sure that with Mriya and Elaine and the others I can put up a great team effort..." Vera promised, smirking teasingly and winking up at him while her fingers delicately traced down the profile of his abs. "And in any case, as I already told you... if you decide that a world's time is over, then that world should only thank you for the attention. They are just unworthy specks of dirt inhabited by microbes..." She grabbed his enormous black cock, tugging lightly on it, almost dragging him along by his gigantic shaft as she gave him a predatory grin that dripped lust and cruel hunger. For a moment he got a glimpse of her own Inverted form, of her own darkness, and it was such a delightful vision that a warm shiver ran down his spine. "They should thank you for the undeserved honor of getting your attention for even the briefest of instants. They should thank you for destroying them... and if you decide to bring them back, thank you even more and offer your lives to you again, and again, and again..."

"Don't give me ideas. You are evil!" Killer amusedly replied, grinning despite himself and seizing her muscular shoulders, massaging them teasingly as she led him from the front, swaying her hips in a way that made him rumble in delight.

It took them only a few steps to each the stern emergency lock, basically a small watertight compartment meant to enable personnel to get in and out of the submarine while it was submerged. They passed by rows of heavy diving suits orderly stored along the bulkheads. Galen and the others, of course, had not had a chance to use them, as the RA had attached a submarine to the external hatch, and anyway they had been caught at a depth that was way too great for evacuation to be possible. At acceptable depths, when divers needed to go outside or the crew needed to evacuate the submarine, groups of up to 12 people wearing the suits got inside the compartment, sealed it shut, allowed seawater to floor it progressively to even out the internal and external pressures, and finally opened the hatch leading outside. The compartment was then sealed once more, dried, and opened to let another group through.

As they approached the open hatch, a robotic tank with large rubber tracks moved towards them and opened fire with its gatling cannon and the grenade launchers, but Vera only snorted in entertainment, looking idly down at the bullets that crumpled uselessly against her bare musculature. Even as the grenades exploded against her, she only laughed and squeezed into the enormous black cock, pumping it slowly and greedily, until an enormous blast of thick, dense black precum erupted from the enormous cockmaw and smacked into the robot tank hard enough to knock it backwards and crumple the armoured box that protected the sensors. Thick, hyperpotent ropes of the sticky stuff clogged the gatling gun so thoroughly that its electric engine tripped and the seven barrels violently stopped spinning, silencing the cannon... and Vera licked her lips, giving a single, long pump to the monstrous black shaft, as if to arm a shotgun. "One shot, one kill." She teasingly breathed, before Satan's Bane stabbed violently through the back of the damaged tank, impaling it and then hefting it high off the ground, smacking it with brutal force into the ceiling, sending pieces falling off. Boadicea snorted in contempt and ripped her heavy, cruel weapon out of the wreckage, shouldering Satan's Bane and grinning to her father and Samara.

Sekhmeth had already jumped in through the open external hatch as well, and she had quickly dispatched the RA assault squad that was keeping Galen and the others under siege. Their bodies were reduced to little more than horrible crimson stains of pulp on the bulkheads, and their blood had painted the muscular lioness's body red. The goddess of Destruction struck a sensual pose for her Master and winked, stroking down the perfect shapes of her body and smearing blood all over her dark hide while asking teasingly: "Is this redhead evil enough for you...?"

"Always." Killer amusedly replied, licking her cheek and tasting the remains of her victims before teasingly whispering into her ear: "But there is always room for improvement..."

The goddess smirked predatorily, hungrily licking her muzzle as she idly played with the enslaved, shrunken submarines that she had pierced through her large black nipples. Her collar glowed with her energy and her lust as she thought of how to surprise and please him... and then she looked idly back over her shoulder as the resurrected submariners followed through the watertight hatch, singing praise for their God.

"Come out of hiding, mates! God has come to save us all and strike our enemies into oblivion!" One of the young officers shouted, and another exclaimed: "God came to complete our mission! It's over, shipmates! We are safe now! We will all be safe, for God is here for us!"

Killer made a bit of a grimace at that, awkwardly half-smiling and half-grudging. Diana followed them

Into the room, smiling a little at him and shrugging slightly: she couldn't quite make them shut up, but at least they definitely were in good shape. She walked rapidly around the group of resurrected sailors and got to her Master's side, knowing that in the machinery space there would be plenty of need for her healing talents. Killer studied the hatch for a moment, looking at the frame of the door with a frown, and then he ducked and shrunk himself as much as he could, squeezing sideways into the reactor compartment's tunnel. It was a tight fit, and he grumbled under his breath as his enormous cock ground into the metallic wall and floor, deforming the armoured bulkhead like it was made of paper and leaving behind a thick black river of omnivirile cocksludge.

Diana followed him with a smile, her cheeks reddened and her eyes glinting with entertainment and hunger, while Vera grinned widely, amused and delighted by that obscene sight, and Sekhmeth chuckled as she dragged her fingers through the thick trail of hypervirile gunk. They paid no heed to the multiple corpses that were brokenly sprawled one on top of the other along the entire corridor. They could smell the blood and the gore, however, and see the amazing, terrifying number of bullets crumpled into the thick metal walls of the reactor, and the countless gashes and dents caused by ricocheting projectiles, and the amazing amount of metallic slivers coming from fragmentation grenades that had exploded down the length of that shaft that was only a few meters long but had clearly seen a battle ferocious like few others. Bones crunched under their feet and gore squelched wetly, bubbling out blood and ichors as it was crushed under their toes, but as soon as their feet lifted off the broken corpses, those simply vanished, dissolved and consumed by Killer's terrifying power, devoured in one instant and turned into insignificant little boosts of energy for his hulking, already overpowered form. Their everything was destroyed and dissolved, turned into another insignificant iota of energy lost somewhere into an endless, ever angry ocean of pure power.

No real answer came from the other end of the tunnel even as the resurrected submariners continued to cheerfully exclaim that there was no danger, not anymore.

Killer spotted a few nervous eyes tossing fleeting gazes up past the edges of several damaged, deformed ballistic shields with the RA symbol painted in the centre. The submariners were no doubt wondering whether his appearance, and even more so that of shipmates they thought dead, was real at all. They probably feared some new tactic of the RA assault teams. Rifles and pistols and submachine guns were nervously and tremblingly aimed against him, but none of those weapons had any prayer against him, so it was completely futile. The submariners, probably realizing it, trembled violently and failed to squeeze the triggers, even as he ducked through the hatch on their end of the tunnel, emerging into the vast, yet cramped machinery space of the Audacious.

The devastation inside the room was incredible, and there seemed to be blood everywhere. Corpses and pieces of robots and remote-control mini-tanks were messily piled up in front of the hatch, while exhausted, wounded, half-intoxicated submariners looked tremblingly up from all corners, from behind the shields and the great diesel generators. There was still some hesitation in them as they tried to decide if the enormous figure that suddenly seemed to fill up the whole compartment was an illusion created by the RA to trick them into exiting in the open, or if their nightmare was truly over.

It was only by looking at the wounds and infections on the submariners' bodies and the masks tightly secured on their faces that Killer realized that the air on board the Audacious was thick with toxic gas and nerve agents: he was completely unfazed by them, so he hadn't noticed anything wrong. He breathed more out of habit than out of need, as he could just as easily close down his lungs and make his own oxygen directly inside them. The mortals around him, of course, did not enjoy that godly fortune, but before he could do more than blush in guilt and embarrassment, Diana smiled and shook her head slightly, her hand glowing with warm white energy as she easily purified the atmosphere.

"It's a fortune that you are here, Diana. I was already messing it up. Resurrecting people to have them dying again a few minutes later... it takes me." Killer commented, smiling softly down at the black-furred tigress, who only dismissively waved a hand and offered him a soft smile.

"Father... you came." A voice commented, somewhat hesitant, as if Galen still struggled to believe his eyes. The captain of the Audacious was resting with his back to the bulkhead, but at the sight of Killer, and then of those very same shipmates he knew he had left behind in broken, bloody heaps, he went down to his knees and groveled before his God, before his omnipotence. "Thank you, my glorious God. You really came for us, unworthy servants..." The commander hesitated for a second, then reached up to undo the straps of his oxygen mask, tossing it away and carefully taking one little sniff of air, and dinging it was clean, and pure, no longer polluted and deadly. Gone was the stench of death, forgotten were the smells of fear and piss and feces. It was like their nightmarish travail had never even happened at all. "Thank you, almighty god... you stretched out your powerful arm, and accomplished miracles!"

Killer turned around and gripped Galen's strong shoulder, squeezing gently on it and helping him to his feet, looking at the young submarine captain with nothing but pride and affection. Galen's chest was covered in wounds that sizzled and bubbled as they attempted to heal and regenerate while the toxic gas infected them and consumed his exposed flesh, but the muscular male stood straight, firm and proud despite the pain. His eyes glowed with satisfaction and pride at being allowed to stand before his God, and he smiled in entertainment as he added: "I... I knew you would, of course! But... I hope you understand, I was starting to have serious doubts...!"

"My fault." Killer admitted with a smile, nodding his head without hesitation. "Things ended up being more complicated than I anticipated. I had hoped to assist you a lot more, and more closely. I'm sorry."

The other submariners all around them relaxed visibly as they watched their commander approaching the enormous god, staring in amazement at the way Killer loomed over Galen, who they were used to consider as something of a living mountain. After a moment of sheer awe and almost uncontrollable relief, they all groveled, pushing their foreheads against the ground and offering prayers and words of praise. One by one, they removed the oxygen masks, closing their eyes with wide smiles at the relief it immediately gave them, and they immediately started to struggle their way out of the heavy sealed suits of rubber.

The young captain of the Audacious smiled slightly as he gazed up at his father, admiring the hulking, perfect build of the god and wondering at the sizes of him, not least the astounding proportions of the black cock jutting at half mast from his waist. "I'd hug you, father, but... I hope you see why I won't right now."

"I think I do." Killer amusedly replied, nodding a little and squeezing Galen's hand instead. "A job truly well done, Galen. The Audacious accomplished the impossible. And I will make sure you are all adequately rewarded for your enterprise." The huge male turned slightly and looked down at the many devastated corpses on the floor, his eyes glowing solid sapphire with his godlike, endless energies. The dead bodies immediately stirred, causing several of the other submariners to double-take and recoil in shock, gaping in a mix of wonder and fear as the horribly devastated corpses, even the headless ones, suddenly pushed up off the ground, standing and healing and regenerating in front of their eyes. Heads that had been disintegrated by heavy caliber bullets were rebuilt in mere instants, and the dead sailors gasped, one by one, as their lungs opened and resumed working.

Sebastian and Sandy looked in awe at the scene, crawling slowly and humbly on their knees towards Killer and kissing Diana's feet as she walked past them and towards the extreme stern of the submarine, following the coughs and cries of the suffering casualties and intoxicated sailors. The old admiral was moved literally to tears, and his usual composure finally shattered. He cried in happiness and relief as he saw his shipmates returning from the dead, and the casualties' suffering coming to a swift end as Diana easily healed even the worst of wounds. Killer saw it and squatted down to take the admiral's hand in his own far larger one, helping him up to his feet and reassuring: "Come on, admiral. You did it again! Above and beyond the call of duty. From now on, I'll let you decide if, how and when you go to sea again." Killer helped Sebastian next, and the sonar specialist smiled warmly and whispered: "Thank you, Father."

"After the last two tours, a period ashore sounds very alluring, my God. I didn't think I'd ever say it, but... I really need some time alongside." Sir John Hawkwood said, smiling quietly, and Killer nodded. There could not be a more powerful proof of how demanding the whole mission had been, if even the legendary Sandy was, for the first time in his life, contemplating life away from the ocean's wave.

"I understand that, but before you decide to retire, admiral, I suggest you wait a moment and take a tour of the Sentence with me. I'm thinking that it could be a good boat for your... fishing hobby." Killer playfully remarked, and the eyes of the old admiral immediately sparkled with renewed interest. Galen shifted on the spot, almost springing on his feet with evident excitement as he hurriedly asked: "You captured the big bitch intact? Oh, that is just wonderful! It would turn our fleet into the most powerful in the world!"

"Technically it already is, considering that all other fleets have gone to the bottom during this war." Sebastian reminded, before smirking a bit as he observed: "Or around our queen's ankles, in the case of Ire's fleet. Indeed, with God as our king, it's not like we really need a navy or army anymore. We are all redundant now, aren't we...?"

"I'm not dismantling the armed forces, don't worry." Killer reassured, offering a soft smile. "I don't want to interfere too much with the natural course of things between mortals. That would be too... easy, and cheap. It would make all mortals' efforts useless, if you think about it, and I don't want that."

"That's actually pretty reassuring to hear." Sandy admitted, looking relieved, but when he looked across the machinery compartment and saw the dead sailors looking in awe at their healed bodies, he added: "But I sure am glad you are making an exception for us. We thought it was over, for all of us."

"Again, I'm sorry. It wasn't my intention to put you in such danger. I had planned to help you every step of the way and my intention was to assault the Sentence as soon as you located it. But things got complicated, as I said."

"That... complication you mentioned, Father... I'm guessing it has to do with this... energy in the air...?" Sebastian quietly enquired, and Killer could only nod in confirmation. Before Galen and Sebastian even formulated the question he could see taking shape in their minds, he added: "The energy you felt belong to a demonic goddess named Sikanjal. The deranged sister of Regina. She is more dangerous and more insane, by far, than her sister and... well. These other energies you feel, that make you so curious... Yes, they are of a son she managed to get out of me. It's a long story, but I'm here to put things right."

"O-okay. I guess." Sebastian whispered, looking at his father with wide open eyes, unable to decide whether he was more relieved by his sincerity or more worried. Hell, that monstrosity that made the air incandescent and toxic was truly their stepbrother...! It was hard to accept, and the sonar specialist suddenly found himself staring at Killer's gigantic black cock, imagining it pounding inside the evil goddess and making her pregnant... and smashing her into pieces, surely, considering how tremendously enormous his shaft was, not to mention how brutal was his flare, and the big barbs on it...

Sandy was pale, his eyes bulging as he stared at Killer in disbelief, but the huge male did his best to ignore that justified shock. He didn't like the sound of "I've been tricked and raped by Sikanjal", but that was what had happened. He just tried not to talk about it. "If you are ready, I'd like to get moving, in fact, before that problem becomes any more difficult to fix." Killer finally remarked, and Galen nodded eagerly but held up his indexes to ask for a moment of grace. "It might sound stupid, since I just saw you resurrecting my shipmates from the dead, but... I need to know if you can also fix the Audacious. I have... well. Machine-gunned the control room's computers and consoles into pieces, you know..."

"Yeah, I saw that." Killer easily replied, shrugging a bit and idly looking down at the damaged diesel generators and the other bullet-riddled machinery. In the space of a blink, his energy visibly soaked into the damaged systems and repaired them, cancelling all dents and gashes, dissolving the bullets lodged into the systems, bringing all components back to full efficiency. "There. Not a problem at all."

"E-excellent." Galen babbled, gaping in awe at that idle demonstration of supreme power, before he cleared his throat and added: "Give me a second. Gotta make sure my boat is in good hands."

Galen jogged across the compartment, reaching his XO, his second in command. Killer watched as the two colleagues and friends traded a few words, then hugged tightly, slapping each other's shoulders in congratulations and sheer relief. The crew of the Audacious, once more whole and healthy and full of energy thanks to Killer and Diana, gathered around the two officers and cheered loudly, clapping and howling in joy and relief. The bloodied, worn-out Jolly Roger of the Audacious was unfurled and swung around in celebration.

"Shipmates! No words can suffice to describe how proud I am of every last one of you, and how happy to see all of the faces I left port with, still here looking at me with big smiles. I trust that it means I've done an acceptable job of leading this fine boat and the finest crew in the whole Navy!" Galen roared, and the submariners cheered and roared their approval, smacking their fists on their hearts.

"There will be time for medals, rewards and chances for me to bore you to death with congratulatory speeches, but now there is one thing I must do: climb aboard the Sentence!"

That announcement caused an ever louder roar of approval, which continued as Galen shouted: "They thought they could board us and steal our glorious Audacious, but we will be the ones coming out of this battle with one extra submarine in our fleet!" Galen paused and took his second in command's hand, squeezing it firmly and then pulling it up so everyone could see. "I'll be back to the Audacious soon, but until then... the XO has the conn."

"The commander is out. I have the conn." The XO formally confirmed, and there was a loud cheer that carried on even as Galen saluted and walked back towards Killer. His eyes were drawn to the goddesses that accompanied him, however: with everything that had happened in those brief moments, they had gone almost unnoticed, but now the whole crew was staring at them in awe and desire. They were beautiful, and powerful, and tall and confident, and Galen felt his cheeks burning furiously as the spectacular females smirked and crossed their muscular arms, looking down at him and the others with evident entertainment.

"Sorry for staring." Galen awkwardly said as he walked past Sekhmeth, but the lioness only winked and grinned, her gaze going from his head to his toes and back, measuring him in such an evident, shameless way that it sent a shiver down his spine. "Flesh is... weak. And you are so beautiful, and glorious... I just couldn't help it."

"Course' you couldn't." Sekhmeth amusedly replied, before teasingly stroking down his broad chest with the tip of one finger, teasing: "I just hope your flesh isn't actually that weak."

Galen gulped at that, grinning stupidly and nearly tripping into the bottom lid of the watertight hatch as he followed Killer, Sebastian and Sandy into the tunnel that went through the reactor compartment.

In a moment they were back in the watertight egress compartment, and once there they climbed the ladder to reach the open circular hatch leading outside.

Killer hesitated briefly right at the hatch, looking down at Galen, Sebastian and Sandy and warning: "You might find the sight... disconcerting. But do not worry, I will fix our world, no matter what it takes."

Galen and the others swallowed thickly at that, nodding in silence. They hadn't seen the outside world for a long time, not even through the periscope. They didn't know what to expect, but if Killer felt compelled to warn them beforehand, it couldn't be a good thing. They had another warning from the terrible, unnatural darkness that was visible outside the open hatch. No night had ever been so obscure, and even though they had long lost awareness of time, they were fairly sure that was supposed to be daytime.

As they emerged onto the casing of the Audacious, the three submariners gaped in shock, turning slowly around to gaze at all that incredible devastation and then staring at the sky itself, dark and cold and dead, full of terrifying, colossal tentacles of black flesh that reached greedily for the stars, seemingly filling up every inch of the sky and stretching up into the infinite darkness beyond, literally piercing through other distant planets. It was a sight that left them speechless, one that they couldn't even begin to understand... and then their eyes looked downward and bulged even larger, if that was at all possible, seeing that the ocean was completely gone and that enormous black-fleshed appendages were holding their submarine aloft, high up into what used to be sea and now was air.

They stared nervously at the colossal Horrors that still waited patiently on their knees, heads bowed deep before their Master and father, forming a protective circle around the Audacious and gazed out towards the distant continents, unrecognizable and devastated, completely covered in thick black corruption and in endlessly growing forests of tentacles and fleshy abominations.

They had lived the apocalypse only indirectly, while closed in a steel tube in the depths of the ocean, so they were completely unprepared to what they were now seeing. They had imagined, of course, that something terrifying had happened: the explosion that had sent ripples through the ocean; the sudden change of temperature and depth... they had figured out that a cataclysm had struck their planet, but not even in their worst nightmares they had dared imagining such a perennial night, such a wasteland of corruption and chaotic, brutal, ever-evolving life, monstrous and aggressive enough that it stretched greedily out through space to ensnare other helpless planets in its apocalyptic grip.

Everything smelled of Killer, and, overwhelmingly, of Male. It was like the entire planet had been plunged into a deep puddle of the God's omnivirile cocksludge... and, they soon realized, that was more or less what had happened.

Killer noticed their shock and horror, and he closed his eyes for a moment, sighing. It was a natural reaction, of course, and more than justified. In that moment, the submariners were wondering about what had happened to their homeport, and to their homeland in general. They didn't know, but they imagined, that the rising seas had swallowed all coastal towns of the world. The toxic, blood-red waters had flooded valleys and plains, erasing entire regions and pushing deep inland, turning hills and mountains into islands. And that apocalyptic devastation had still been tame and puny in comparison to the destruction and mutations caused by Killer's omnipotent essence. Tentacles as large as entire continents ripped out of the corrupted, mutated core of the planet, while countless others, smaller but still thick enough to dwarf entire mountain ranges, were wrapped tightly around the world and constantly grew, snaking over the surface of the planet and digging deep scars in it, effortlessly grinding entire nations into nothing but dust. Their planet had never been more alive, but it was a monstrous, destructive form of life: its devastated surface by now resembled only very remotely the shapes that had once been familiar, and gone were the colors, but for the black of his flesh and endless essence; and the crimson of blood and gore. It was a dramatic sight to emerge in front of: something completely and horribly different from the world they had left behind when the Audacious had exited port and submerged. They had very rarely taken a brief look at the horizon through the periscope since, and now they recoiled in front of the full scale of the disaster. There was no longer a homeport to return to. No longer a home at all. Most, if not all of their loved ones had no doubt died in that apocalypse. It was a rude, brutal awakening.

"We will fix our world, I promise." Killer quietly said, and his hand glowed with energy as he looked down at the revealed seabed. Within mere instants, blue, clear and unpolluted waters began to claim back their place on the surface of Earth, rapidly filling up the desolated crater that had once been the largest ocean of their world. As Galen stared in shock and awe, his father's power rebuilt the seas as if it was the most mundane of tasks... but the world remained dark, and the continents in the distance were black and dead and dwarfed by the immense forests of dark tentacles. There was not a single man-made light in sight: the civilization that they had known was gone, crumbled and dissolved.

Killer could have easily ordered his own essence to retreat, to dissolve, to reveal the planet beneath... and he could easily heal what was left of the world. But that was premature: there were monsters out there, gathering at the center of Existence, that wanted to completely destroy theirs and all other worlds. Until they were stopped, there could be no recovery, no real future. Galen, Sebastian and Sandy weren't aware of all that, and Killer was thankful for it: they certainly didn't need any more reasons to be worried.

The three submariners' faces regained some color as the immense tentacles wrapped around the Audacious slowly and carefully lowered their submarine into the new, beautiful, sapphire waters. They stared at the monstrous appendages, muscular and powerful, as they slid delicately away from the casing, allowing the submarine to float on its own as they disappeared into the depths... and Galen swallowed thickly. At least his second in command and shipmates would get a slightly lesser shock when they got around to peeking out through the periscope. They'll see the ocean, at least...

A few miles away, tentacles even more enormous and unstoppable were effortlessly holding the Sentence aloft, like it was nothing but a little toy. The enormous RA super-submarine was amazing enough to be able to gain some of their attention even while they were surrounded by that truly apocalyptic scenario, and Killer gave them a few moments to appreciate the size and unique design of the monstrous machine before announcing: "I thought you'd like to... take a look. I've ordered my Praetorians to capture the Sentence intact, so you can inspect it and, if you want, turn it into your new flagship."

The huge male smiled in entertainment at the awe on their faces, and then he smirked as he effortlessly floated off the Audacious's casing, beginning to fly across the distance that separated it from the Sentence.

"We will need a lift, I'm afraid...!" Galen observed, trying to keep his voice from cracking, and Sekhmeth snorted in entertainment from right behind him as she effortlessly wrapped one arm around him, shamelessly gripping into the bulging crotch of his pants and doing the same with Sebastian with her other arm, handling both hulking males like they were children. "Your are sons of your father alright!" Sekhmeth appreciatively observed, squeezing lightly into their massive packages, and the two males swallowed thickly and blushed furiously, trading an awkward look and a dumb little giggle.

Vera offered her arm to Sandy, in a rather more respectful fashion, and the old admiral smiled widely, spreading his arms and letting her pick him up as she preferred. For once, even he couldn't hide the pleasure and excitement at being that close to such a glorious feminine body, powerful and beautiful.

It was a brief hop to the Sentence, and Galen and the others had just enough time to admire the beautiful Praetorians that surveyed the Sentence, seemingly dwarfing it to insignificance with the godlike power their bare bodies radiated.

It was in that exact moment that the crew of the Sentence decided to open the great "garage door" leading into the hangar... and the three submariners realized that the enormous door was the "hatch" that they had heard underwater and that had so puzzled and worried them.

Mantis jet fighters, advanced hypersonic biplanes with engines mounted at the extremities of the wings, free to swivel to enable vertical takeoff and landing as well as amazing manoeuvres during dogfights, came rolling out of the hangar in a row. They jumped into the sky, one after the other, and rushed towards the Praetorians with their guns growling and their missiles blasting out one after the other from their large weapon bays, but the goddesses only snorted in contempt and ignored them.

While Galen stared in absolute awe, the RA's super-fighters began to shrink rapidly, turning into models, then into toys as the armored glass bubbles of the cockpits all turned crimson, stained by the blood of the pilots as they were crushed into mush inside spaces suddenly way too tiny. The Mantis fighters nearly vanished from sight as they shrunk all the way down to the size of trinkets, and Galen gulped as the goddesses easily collected them and turned them into pendants. Just like that, in mere instants, the Sentence's air wing was completely annihilated.

The three rail cannons on top of the submersible battleship continued to blast out dart after dart, and every hypersonic projectile seemed to rip the sky in two as it sailed towards one of the glorious goddesses, just to then disappear into a cloud of tiny fragments and molten metal before it could even get close to the Praetorians. Galen and Sebastian traded a nervous look when one of the enormous cannons turned and trained right towards him, taking aim at Sekhmeth, but the goddess continued to float towards the Sentence literally without a care in the world for the RA's efforts.

Both submariners couldn't contain cries of shock when the enormous artillery piece unleashed a first barrage against them, and they instinctively shrunk as small as they could against and behind Sekhmeth's arms, even as the goddess laughed loudly. Galen stared in horror at the gigantic lump of steel coming towards them... or better gazed at the way the sky seemed to warp out of space around it, but immediately afterwards there was a loud, deafening crash and the enormous projectile disintegrated into little more than dust, just as the ones that followed behind it. They seemed to be crashing into an invisible, invulnerable wall, and the black furred lioness bent forwards to grin playfully at the both of them, teasing: "No worries, boys! Nothing will hurt you until you are in my arms. I, on the other hand, like to bite and I'm not gentle with my toys. But I hope this does not deter you... I'm thinking of asking Killer for a foursome. I like you two. I'm betting you have all the eagerness of youth!"

Galen and Sebastian blushed furiously at that, trading dumb grins and not knowing what to reply, and the lioness only snickered, squeezing teasingly into the massive bulges in their pants. "Strong women scare boys but excite men. I hope you two belong to the second category... and judging from your pants, you do!"

Galen and Sebastian couldn't help but release little squeaks at that, blushing furiously and immediately regretting how non-virile those cries sounded... but thankfully the Sentence covered them with the noise of two Close-In Weapon Systems that growled as they unleashed torrents of bullets against the goddess of Destruction. The two turrets, armed each with two Gatling cannons and banks of short-range missiles, had popped up through special hatches on top of the submarine's tower, and were furiously firing against Sekhmeth as they would against incoming enemy missiles. The goddess, however, was completely unfazed by the bullets, which melted in midair long before getting to her, while the missiles imploded as they were crushed flat by her terrifying psychic force.

Sekhmeth touched down on the Sentence's casing and gently let go of both males, who immediately turned around and looked up at her in awe and arousal and embarrassment, awkwardly seeking words to offer her and literally wondering whether she had only pulled their legs or if she really had any interest in them. With how tall and muscular she was, she made them feel truly like little and inexperienced boys, while her astounding beauty and the insatiable, formidable lust in her eyes made them sweat and twitch in anticipation and desire. When she winked down at them, their backs arched and they grew stiff, wincing as they felt on the verge of orgasm, just like that. "Don't worry boys, I'll make the call." Sekhmeth reassured, walking between them and teasingly petting their heads as she strolled past, sending warm shivers down their spines.

Vera put Sandy down on his feet in a rather more dignified fashion, but the old admiral's cheeks were burning no less red as he walked up to his shipmates. The Doberman smirked to herself in entertainment, walking up to her father's side as Killer led the way, aiming for the massive hatch leading into the Sentence's hangar.

It was, in fact, the first of two successive watertight garage doors: the mini-submarines that had assaulted the Audacious and repaired the Sentence's stern had been launched out of that same compartment, which was a massively enlarged version of a normal underwater egress. The mini-submarines docked inside the compartment, the water was pumped out, and then the inner door was opened and the vehicles moved on rails to reach their parking spot inside the hangar.

The two colossal armoured doors were now trying to shut closed, but Pamela used her psychic might to effortlessly force them back up, causing the electric motors inside the hangar to shriek audibly as they vainly struggled against her power. RA troopers and their robots and remotely-controlled tanks formed a line of defence at the height of the second door, opening fire with everything they had at their disposal, but it was like they were tossing paper-and-spit balls at a train running at full speed. Mriya and Elaine eagerly jogged forwards into the storm of bullets and laughed as the lines of soldiers first wobbled, then disintegrated as, Spirit device or not, the soldiers scattered and ran away in panic. The two young goddesses charged right into their ranks, their bare bodies hitting them with the force of steamrollers, crunching armors and shattering bones, sending broken bodies flying away like pins, blood exploding out in thick clouds as the two females deliberately stomped on as many troopers as they could, turning them into nothing but ugly stains on the floor. Boadicea followed with a wide, cruel smirk on her muzzle as she stabbed Satan's Bane through the powerless robotic tanks, tearing them apart like the ridiculous little toys they were, and battering the broken pieces away like golf balls, sending them plunging into the ocean, miles away. Galen, Sebastian and Sandy instinctively huddled together, waking almost shoulder to shoulder to stay fully hidden behind Sekhmeth's glorious form, their eyes constantly going from the terrifying storm of bullets and missiles coming from the RA's soldiers to the sensual swaying of the goddess's hips, and the glinting rivulets of hot juice running down her muscular thighs. Her tattooed backside, muscular and perfectly chiseled, towered before them, flexing gloriously with every little movement, and Galen found himself staring at the tattoos of the golden clouds on her shoulder blades, which erupted blue lightning bolts that reached down towards her waist. Her long braid of red hair, weighted at the end by three monstrous skulls of ancient beasts she had slain, was a spectacle in itself. All together, her towering body was a sight stunning enough to almost completely take their mind off from the fact that a small but heavily armed army was firing a deluge of rockets, grenades and bullets in their direction, while being kicked and crushed into pulp by a trio of naked, glorious goddesses.

Mriya, Elaine and Boadicea made short work of the RA forces in the hangar, and Killer strolled inside the cavernous space without having to lift a finger: all his enemies had been turned into nothing but pulp and ugly puddles of wet, sticky mush that he leisurely and deliberately avoided as he would dog waste on a sidewalk. The hangar was enormous, but in large part empty: there were several large carts parked down one side of the giant space, all ready on a system of railway tracks built into the floor. Their size and general design made it clear that those carts normally carried the mini-submarines when it was time to stow them away. There were several naval helicopters with their rotors and tails folded up to minimize their footprint, all lined up on the opposite side, but there were no longer jet fighters on display: the Sentence had launched all of those in combat against the Praetorians, which in practice meant gifting them several new trinkets for the decoration of their boots and armors.

Sekhmeth gazed around with idle curiosity, and Galen winced as she idly reached up to poke one of the heavily armed helicopters with the tip of her index: it went through the metallic fuselage like it would through wet tissue paper, and the goddess laughed, dragging it easily around and writing her name through the metal like she would into wet sand. "Do you mortals really find these feeble things intimidating...?" The lioness asked, shaking her head in entertainment before grabbing the barrel of a large heavy-caliber gun that stuck out of a massive pod, resting on a cart near the helicopter. Each rotorcraft could be armed with a couple of those as well as with missiles, torpedoes and depth charges, none of which had Sekhmeth impressed in any way. Galen and Sebastian, on the other hand, winced as the gun barrel crumpled like paper in her grip, before she hefted the whole pod and swung it around like it weighted absolutely nothing. With zero effort, she bent the cannon into the shape of a pretzel, snickering and then letting the huge lump of useless metal clang down on the floor, her huge biceps bulging explosively as she idly flexed and sentenced: "These are real guns, not those peashooters."

Killer snickered as he passed by, taking in the look of awe on Galen, Sebastian and Sandy's faces. He was used to having Sekhmeth and the others around, but for the three submariners it was a whole new experience that was clearly leaving quite a mark. Killer threw his head back with a snort of entertainment, and his eyes narrowed as he studied the ceiling: spare parts and empty auxiliary fuel tanks were secured to the girders and tubes on the ceiling, and that was normal: on any ship, space was finite and had to be exploited to the max. What made him curious, however, was what rested beyond those tubes and girders: apparently, an enormous number of metallic rods, conical in shape but very elongated, stacked one on top of the other in endless rows that extended, shoulder to shoulder, from one side of the hangar to the other.

It took him only a brief moment to understand what they were, and Galen, following his father's gaze, soon realized it as well: those were the projectiles for the rail guns in the three towers on top of the submarine.

The gun turrets had no deck penetration thanks to their electric operation and to the fact that their projectiles were completely inert: they were literally huge, heavy lumps of super-hard metal alloys, shaped to achieve the best aerodynamic profile possible. They didn't need to carry explosive: they struck their targets at such terrifying speed that their own mass turned into pure devastation, generating immense force and metal-melting heat. Being inert, the rounds could be stored like that, out in the open, at an obscene density, and resting horizontally. Under each gun turret there was a robotic conveyor system that spun the rods up, pushing them directly into the rail cannons, which accelerated them with enormous amounts of electromagnetic force. Simple, effective, devastating... and completely safe. Even if an enemy missile was to hit the Sentence right there, and penetrate into that immense ammunition depot, there was no explosive that it would set up to cause secondary explosions.

All of the rail gun's complexity lay in generating and handling the power it needed to fire those enormous darts at hypersonic speed, but the Sentence clearly didn't had any shortage of installed power: it was easy to guess that multiple nuclear reactors were positioned in the two outer hulls, after all.

"Whoever designed this vessel is a genius... but is also clinically insane." Admiral Hawkwood quietly commented, trying to keep his eyes off the stunning bodies of the goddesses marching ahead. An enormous fireproof shutter had been lowered in position in the middle of the hangar, but Sekhmeth ignored its existence, walking right against it and smashing through the steel like it wasn't even there, tearing a huge breach in it as she leisurely spread her arms to maximize the damage. Anti-tank rockets smashed into her chest as soon as she emerged into the other half of the huge hangar, but the explosions barely caused her firm, prodigious breasts to giggle and Galen couldn't help but shiver in a mix of arousal and horror as the goddess slowly balled one hand into a fist and then leisurely slammed it down on top of the RA rocketeers, squishing them into ugly squirts of crimson slush.

Mriya clawed into the enormous metallic shutter and effortlessly hefted it up, sending it slamming loudly into its recess in the ceiling and revealing the second hangar bay, just as large as the first and just as mostly empty. There were a couple of mini-submarines still on board, however, as well as other helicopters and several boats, strapped securely on trailers. There were even a couple of Mantis VTOL fighters, half-dismantled and surrounded by abandoned tools and spare parts waiting to be installed. At the far end of the hangar there were a couple of large workshops where repairs took place, and smaller laboratories were located behind airtight doors. Those ones dealt with the most sophisticated electronic parts and black boxes, and needed a controlled atmosphere to ensure that nothing could infiltrate the circuits and degrade their functionality. Another large armoured shutter was evident in the middle of the workshops, and it clearly he only way inside the actual submarine. The RA troopers had retreated behind the blast-proof door and were now firing against Mriya and Elaine with two large Gatling cannons sticking out of turrets on either side of the large shutter. Killer just carried on walking directly towards the sealed shutter, knowing that, unless Sikanjal managed to stand up and come at them for a fight, nothing that the RA could throw against them was going to achieve anything.

The two young goddesses idly walked up to the Gatling cannons, ignoring the bullets crashing uselessly into their powerful abs and spectacular breasts, and effortlessly grabbed into the spinning barrels, bringing them to an abrupt stop and crushing them flat, causing ammunition to explode audibly on the other side of the bulkhead. Shrieks of agony came from inside the sealed, armoured citadel of the Sentence, but they only made Mriya and Elaine grin sharkishly as they bent the cannons upwards like they were toys, before Mriya made an idle gesture towards the shutter and instantaneously forced it open, ripping apart the massive rods that were supposed to block it and sending the enormous block of steel rolling up like the lid of a tuna can. The large corridor beyond the shutter was crowded with lines of RA soldiers that immediately opened fire against Elaine, but the dragoness only leisurely played with her soaked black labia, her other hand resting on her hip as her eyes glowed with terrifying energy. All rockets and bullets and grenades ground to an absurd halt in midair, right in front of her, and then exploded back towards the RA troopers, tearing into their ranks like an hailstorm of steel and fire, mowing them all down in the space of mere instants, turning their bodies into shreds of flesh and scattered pieces of broken armor and weapons. The goddess laughed in dark, merciless pleasure as dozens upon dozens of soldiers became nothing but toys in her psychic grip, their forms stretched and their limbs extended against their will as they were brutally pinned down to the floor, shoulder to shoulder. A few other bodies were torn in half like biscuits and then used to literally paint the other soldiers that squirmed uselessly on the floor: bloody entrails and long ropes of guts dragged over faces, chests, arms and legs, turning that living floor crimson.

Boadicea and Mriya walked inside with matching grins, and Elaine stood aside to smile at her father, spreading her drenched, dripping labia for him as he passed by, even as Galen stared with burning cheeks and his jaw gaping wide. "Red carpet for you, daddy." She said, and the adoration and total dedication with which she spoke sent a shiver down Galen's spine: it was all too clear that nothing mattered more to that powerful goddess than her father's happiness and pleasure. For Killer she was willing to commit the worst atrocity, the most monstrous crime. She was ready to offer, without any hesitation, the most horrendous and extreme of sacrifices if it meant giving him even a little thrill, a little hint of a smile. She was ready to give up her life, willing to offer him her children, eager to slay entire worlds just to make him smirk... it was monstrous, and terribly arousing. Galen could hardly imagine what it was like to be blessed with the love of someone as beautiful as Elaine, and it gave him a weird, intense and almost scary thrill to try and guess what it was like to be adored to such levels, to have such power over others. He gazed at his father's broad, massive back with a mix of admiration and fear, envy and horror: the temptations that Killer had to live with were absolutely formidable, and he was glad he had such broad, mighty shoulders. It had to be quite the burden to carry, and if he was to ever fail to sustain it, the consequences would be unfathomable. What were they, after all, mortals cowering in his shadow...? Nothing but dust that he could, in any moment, blow away literally with a snort of contempt. Their fate depended entirely on his whim, and in any moment he could end them all without them having a single chance of even protesting. And, as he had demonstrated on the Audacious, he could continue toying with them even after they were dead: there was no escaping his power, his dominance, his control.

Galen was shaken out of his thoughts by the tremendous crunch of bones shattering into dust, followed by the wet squelch of crushed guts bursting out through an exploding belly, and his eyes widened as he stared at Killer's heavy, massive, bare foot settling down upon the first two RA soldiers in line, caving in their chests like they were made of paper. Their frail bodies, even while wrapped in full body armour, crumpled as flat as pancakes, not even able to resist long enough to really poke into his sole, to push back against his toes. Squished guts burst wetly out of those grotesquely flattened body as the hips and bellies split apart, vomiting out ropes of intestine and pulped organs, and Galen stared in morbid fascination as the great foot lifted off the ground, its sole caked with blood and ugly splotches of fur. One eye, stuck in the sticky pulp, seemed to stare at him for a moment while long ropes of bloody scum stretched between the horrendous stain on the floor and the god's toes, but soon the foot was rushing down again, falling down on another bunch of vermin and squishing them too. The Spirit devices exploded, of course, but they were too weak to even get Killer's bare toes to twitch as the God, flanked by his goddesses, advanced slowly and leisurely, deliberately massacring every last living fiber of that carpet of sacrifices. Galen, Sebastian and Sandy followed, their faces pale and their hands trembling as they walked over that trail of blood and gore squished into the floor so thoroughly that it would probably never wash away fully.

"We are all like these unlucky bastards... a carpet under his feet..." Galen murmured under his breath, staring at the horrendous mess on the floor and vainly trying to step around the biggest masses of disgusting, bloody pulp, wincing as the stuff clung to his boots with surprising force, almost gluing him to the metallic floor. Sandy and Sebastian looked just as terrified, and they twitched and spasmed in time with the terrifying crunches coming from ahead, which were always completed by the muffled sound of the Spirit devices exploding uselessly under the God's heavy steps. The cacophony of wet, terrible sounds coming from that leisure stroll was simply fearsome, and the memory was never going to fade away. For the first time, they were fully aware of their mortality, of their insignificance in front of Killer's power, and the sudden realization was not just uncomfortable but literally scary: they were nothing, nothing at all. Their civilization as a whole was puny and irrelevant and they had no hope and no rights other than those that Killer decided to grant them.

As they moved down the corridor, following in Killer's bloody wake, they reached what was clearly a barracks block: countless little bunks were arranged in a multitude of "rooms" that offered no comfort at all other than a rack for armors and weaponry. The mind-controlled soldiers of the RA, evidently, were literally nothing more than cannon fodder: they were given exactly the indispensable, fed directly through the veins with the use of energetic composites that got to the bunks traveling along tubes on the ceiling. No solid food, no chairs, no tables, nothing at all beyond those bunks that looked a lot like coffins.

"Well, the embarked force's quarters will need some touching up." Sandy commented, trying to sound amused but failing to hide the mix of fear and horror that gripped his heart not just at the sight of the RA's monstrous handling of its personnel, but also at the awareness of Killer's omnipotence over them all. It very much dwarfed even the Sentence into insignificance, and suddenly made everything look useless, uninteresting, stupid: why should they even try? Why bother with such great machines, and why bother with wars in general when their fate was completely dependent on Killer's decisions? They were zeroes, and their products would only ever amount to zero. Forever and ever.

Killer perceived their shock, their despair, their depression, their envy, and part of him was saddened by it... but the rest of him either didn't care or was flat-out delighted because of it. That was how it was, and how it had to be. How they got to terms with reality was their problem, certainly not his.

"We will need a prize crew to bring this monster back home." Sebastian meekly commented, while glaring at one of the tiny, uncomfortable bunks, which were really storage space for machines, not beds for thinking people. "But the Audacious isn't exactly overmanned. We can't take too many sailors away from her. Who will help us control and operate the boat on the travel towards home?"

The sonar specialist fell silent, then watched up at Sekhmeth's muscular back as the goddess purposefully drove her boots down with vicious force through the bodies pinned to the floor, crushing the legs and pelvis of countless troopers into nothing but ugly red stains. Immediately, he realized that what he had just said had no real meaning at all: any one of the goddesses towering over them could lift the Sentence and throw it into fucking orbit if they wanted to... or just as easily teleport it directly into port, on the other side of the planet. Whether a crew was aboard or not and whether the subs' systems were operational or damaged were entirely secondary considerations. It was frustrating to suddenly feel so hopeless and useless.

Vera turned slightly to gaze back at them and offered a little, soft smile that showed that she was aware of their discomfort and that it saddened her... but that also said, very clearly, "live with it". Sebastian swallowed thickly, aware that her smile, beautiful and heartwarming but ultimately unhelpful, was the best summary for their fate as mortals: you are zeroes. Deal with it.

It was a terrible awareness, that of being, forever and ever, nothing more than entertainment for the God and his Disciples.

Vera tried to reassure the three submariners, at least on the technical side, by using what little first-hand experience she had to share about the RA technology and methods. "I think we'll discover that this submarine is actually operated by a tiny number of officers." Vera remarked, shrugging a bit in her shoulders. "The RA always liked to automate as many functions as possible, because officers are more difficult to mind-control. They need to know more, they need to have greater margins of autonomous thought to decide tactics and bring their missions to conclusion... and the more they think, the more dangerous they can become for the Alliance."

"Makes sense." Sandy agreed, nodding slightly and trying to concentrate on the task at hand. They were alive; they had a planet to rebuild and they were being offered command, almost full ownership, of the most impressive, enormous and capable submarine ever built. He had to take those positives and use them to give a new meaning to his existence. He tried to be thankful, as much as he could, for Killer's generosity rather than obsessed and enraged by the unfair omnipotence of their King and Master. Grumbling about it was only ever going to make things worse and more depressing.

"Most of the RA personnel on board this submarine will not have been part of her crew. These bunks all belonged to the soldiers that attacked the Audacious and tried to stop us at the hangar, and I bet there are several other accommodations blocks like this." Vera continued, and Adrasthea nodded in agreement before remarking: "We'll need to make sure all decks are clear. We'll have to squish all RA troopers, one by one, before you can safely take control of the Sentence."

"We'd certainly appreciate that." Galen replied, bowing respectfully to the goddess. Like Sandy, he had reached the only possible conclusion: he had to try and enjoy what he could, and live to the fullest of his possibilities. Obsessing about the harsh truth only made him suffer, and there really weren't alternatives. Even if he had been willing to commit suicide to escape that reality of helpless servitude, it still wouldn't have solved anything, since Killer could have just resurrected him for another round. There was no escape and no solution... so why should he worry?

At the end of the long corridor they emerged into a more spacious compartment which, they realized, evidently sat at the base of the Sentence's huge conning tower. There was no narrow vertical ladder like on "normal" submarines, however: the RA's monster had wide staircases that climbed up, deck after deck, all the way up to the "mini" bridge on top of the tower, which was actually anything other than mini.

There were even a couple of elevators, each vast and powerful enough to lift a full platoon of troopers in full armor and with weaponry and ammunition. Both stairs and elevators went up but also down: there were at least twenty-five more decks beneath their feet, while the Audacious had three decks in total. That was another reminder of the absurd sizes of the Sentence. At each deck, the staircase and elevator shafts could be locked down with armoured watertight shutters, and the RA soldiers had done exactly that, sealing all hatches. Killer idly looked at the enormous walls of dark metal, then shrugged and called Pamela and the Praetorians inside: a few minutes later, his guardians were forcing the shutters wide open and invading the decks below, taking quick and efficient care of the RA soldiers that still tried to resist, driven by the unthinking computers pierced into their spines.

It became immediately clear that Vera's assumption had been entirely correct: most of the Sentence's roomy interior was taken up by the same kind of horribly uncomfortable "accommodations" for soldiers, rather than for sailors. The Sentence carried a small, heavily armed army that it could insert ashore with helicopters and mini-submarines and boats, while delivering hundreds of missiles and barrages of rail gun shells as fire support. It literally had enough firepower and soldiers to take on entire nations on its own, and Sandy and Galen quickly concluded that, even tearing out the existing "doll boxes" to replace them with bunks and rooms suitable for real persons, the submarine was still going to carry a more than significant force. Even as the Praetorians filled in their reports from the lower decks, which they rapidly "cleansed" as they made their way towards the side hulls to secure the nuclear reactors and the key machinery that kept the Sentence "alive", Killer and Vera's interest was monopolized by an apparently insignificant metallic bulkhead right behind the elevators. Even when Boadicea reported that she had found the enormous hallway leading into Sikanjal's private accommodations and the genetic laboratories that no doubt were somewhere deep in the central hull of the Sentence, Killer only briefly acknowledged and thanked her, but continued to study that enormous structure.

It was a colossal cylinder, a tower of solid metallic alloy which occupied almost the totality of the conning tower. There seemed to be only narrow inspection corridors running along the sides of that gigantic silo, ad when they tried to walk around it, Killer barely fit into those narrow passages, his shoulders brushing into the wall of the conning tower itself as he faced the great cylinder. A number of signs and symbols made clear that the enormous silo contained the infamous shuttle, the space vehicle that had to allow Sikanjal to reach Lord Skyfall's secret lair in the sky. As absurd as it sounded, the Sentence even carried its own space shuttle, sealed inside that launch tube, already in position for launch. The elevator went up all the way to the single hatch leading inside the rocket, and Killer shook his head slowly as he stared in amazement at the sign that proudly pointed out that fact. There was even a cutaway drawing of the shuttle's installation, which made it clear that the launch could happen without the Sentence even needing to surface: an enormous amount of pressurized gas was explosively generated underneath it, firing it up to the surface and indeed beyond, propelling it into the air before its rockets ignited and carried it towards space. It was launched, in other words, just like a ballistic missile... which, however, had no one on board, of course. Killer wasn't convinced that such a convoluted system was safe, and he admittedly wasn't very enthusiastic about trying it out... but they had to get inside the shuttle, if not to use it then to try and extract the navigation instructions loaded into its computers, because they were their only hope of finding the hidden "castle" of Lord Skyfall.

For what Killer had learned, it orbited somewhere high above Earth, shielded by camouflage systems so sophisticated that they interfered even with Alexis's sixth sense. So close, and yet so utterly out of reach! The distance was not a problem at all, but even Killer could not successfully teleport into a location that he didn't in some ways know, or at least "feel" through flows of energy. Elelyon had searched that same space base for a long time, but he had only ended up uselessly chasing the signal of Lord Skyfall's secure transmissions across the galaxies, going around in circles and never managing to locate the source.

Killer had hoped to hijack the rocket and used it to get to Lord Skyfall to crush him once and for all, but that plan had obviously fallen apart since Cerberus had already moved out of that base and headed for the Center of Existence. Killer, however, still wanted to make sure that the space station and all the monstrosities that it undoubtedly contained were destroyed, forever cancelled from Earth's sky. And now that he had found his lost Samara, he had another and even more important reason to get up there and check every corner of the place: his little, sweet Nadia might be locked inside a cell somewhere in that station. Vera realized it as well, and she leaned quietly into his side, hugging his powerful arm and using her index to gently draw little, idle figures on the back of his hand. "Do you think that this rocket will work...?" Samara whispered, staring at the door of the elevator but clearly seeing far beyond it, probably remembering her little sister's quiet, gentle smile.

"I hope so. We will have to find out as soon as... as I'm done with the Sikanjal problem." Killer paused, looking down at her with an awkward little grin, and she smirked back with hunger in her eyes, squeezing tighter around his arm and guiding his hand down her abs, to her exposed labia, letting him feel how ready, how wet, how needy she was for him and for the slaughter ahead. She had every intention of being part of it, and as their eyes met he got flashes of what she was thinking: images of her completely drenched in blood, hands smearing gore all over her muscular body while his enormous cock rammed into her with brutal force, making her bleed, making her shriek, making her cry and squirt out in helpless delight... all of it while his cock was simultaneously still impaled through Sikanjal and through the monstrosity inside her. And then tattoos and body markings, and words of praise for him, promises of servitude to him, seared with fire in her flesh... and a collar, heavy and tight around her throat. He couldn't help but lick his muzzle at that, drooling hungrily as he rumbled in his chest, and she grinned widely and let out a little growl of her own, eager and impatient. And she reached forwards to slowly stroke his monstrous black cock, her eyes glowing as she looked up in his eyes... in his mind he saw Vanessa and Nadia, one on either side of Samara, their bodies powerful and beautiful, splendid and divine; their necks squeezed into heavy collars, their skin scarred with his marks, with multiple tattoos proudly declaring that they were his, and his alone.

"I want to share you with Nadia... and mom... and I know you will make us all happy... God Daddy..."

Killer hissed in delight at that, even as the mere mention of Nadia, lost who knew where, cancelled some of the luster in their eyes. The huge male cleared his throat a bit and tried to reassure her about their chances of finding her sister... but in truth, maybe he was trying to convince himself, more than her. "Cerberus was... you know. In a bad position when he enlisted Regina and Sikanjal for his plans. He was just a mortal. He needed to compromise, he had to give Sikanjal what she wanted... you'll see, the rocket will bring us to the right place."

"I hope so." Vera breathed, before quietly admitting: "You know... now that I know that... well. That death isn't... definitive... I'm much more worried about not finding her than I am about finding out that she might... she might have been... She might have passed." The young goddess finally said, her voice trembling as she said the last few words. "We have to find her, dad."

"And we will. I will find out where my little Nadia is, no matter what it takes. I'll squeeze Cerberus like a rag until he tells us what we need to know, if I have to." The huge male firmly replied, nodding slightly to make it clear that it was a promise. Then Killer smiled softly before trying to lighten the atmosphere, playfully remarking: "But is it right that I feel so uneasy about strapping myself to a big space rocket, even though I'm, like. Unkillable and divine and all that crap...?"

Samara snickered at that, playfully shoving him away as she snorted: "Even if it was a trap, or if it failed miserably, it wouldn't be able to hurt you in any way."

"Yeah, but it would still be unpleasant if it exploded under my ass!" The huge male replied, laughing softly, and Samara shook her head with a smirk and countered: "Even if it was programmed to fire right into the Sun or into a Black Hole, you'd still come out unscathed. No reasons to be worried there!"

"Oh, thanks! That's so very reassuring." Killer replied, rolling his eyes. Was Cerberus duplicitous enough to turn the rocket into a death trap...? Hell, yes. It was something he could well have done, especially considering that the rocket was meant to be used by a dangerous demoness, then biotic-goddess he might want to escape from. Joking about it made them feel a little bit better, nonetheless, and after a few moments Killer walked towards the staircase, descending it and venturing closer to the massive, incandescent source of the malignant energy that thrummed in the air, pushing against their bodies with such strength that their chests seemed to constrict and their ribs to almost creak. Vera followed him, not letting go of his hand, while Galen, Sebastian and Sandy advanced between Sekhmeth, out in front of them, and Alcana, behind them. The three submariners were painfully aware of the fact that the two goddesses were protecting them from the crushing, terrible force of the enemy in the air, which threatened to crush their heads into nothing but pulp. They could feel it, loud and clear, heavy and terrible, pushing against their bodies and making them feel frail and helpless, and the closer they got to Sikanjal's lair, the worse they felt. There was a possibility that Sikanjal was just waiting for them, for her chance to lash out and kill them... and even with Sekhmeth and Alcana towering ahead and behind, they couldn't quite keep their hands from trembling in fear. Sikanjal, after all, would only need an instant to make mincemeat of all of them. Just one distraction on their protectors' side, that was all it would take.

Two levels down, however, they reached the Control Room of the Sentence, and its futuristic design had them gaping in awe and curiosity and excitement. As Vera had predicted, the enormous boat was actually controlled by a very small team of high-ranking officers: there were no more than a dozen consoles in the whole room, arranged in two banks down the sides and one in the middle. There was a single, vast throne in the middle of the room, placed on top of several tall steps of marble, and that was evidently where Sikanjal would sit when, if ever, she felt like visiting the bridge. The throne didn't look like it had been used often. Enormous flat screens on the walls projected data, virtual imagery generated from the submarine's sensors and actual imagery coming from the periscopes. Currently, the live feed from the deployed periscope had nothing to show other than the dark, ominous, Sun-less sky and the monstrous tentacles that effortlessly held the Sentence aloft, causing her hull to creak and groan pathetically every time they flexed their muscular, thick bodies.

The multiple periscopes, unsurprisingly, did not penetrate the hull but used cameras to shoot full motion videos that were projected on screens, just as happened on the Audacious. The old, heavy periscopes made of metallic tubes and complicated mirrors were a memory of the past.

There four large command consoles, aligned in line abreast in the middle of the vast room, were the ones that immediately caught Sandy's attention. Each one had a large seat almost buried into banks of computers and screens. They looked very much like the cockpits of fighter jets, complete with sticks and throttles... or, even more accurately, as Sandy realized in a moment, those consoles resembled large Simulators used to train fighter pilots. Each seat was in fact almost completely surrounded by a half-dome screen which projected a virtual image of the outside world as perceived by the Sentence's sensors.

It was almost like the hull was transparent and the sea depths perfectly illuminated: 3-dimensional images showed the profile of the seabed and of all underwater cliffs and canyons and mountains and oceanic plains, while the normal white "lines" of a sonar screen were visualized as 3-dimensional tracks as well. Thanks to advanced computers running the endless calculations needed to make sense of every single line, each sonar track was accurately analyzed and visualized as a recognizable shape. If the noise was loud and clear enough, the computer usually managed to draw very accurate images of the enemy submarine, or even of the weird sea monstrosities that lurked in the dark abysses. In that moment the screens were mostly empty, since the Sentence was literally suspended in the air, but the enormous tentacles were very accurately depicted as white shapes that flailed lazily back and forth.

Touch screens and hands-on control sticks similar to those of fighter jets completed those large consoles, from which it was possible to navigate and "fight" the platform in all of its aspects. None of the four consoles seemed to have greater "dignity" than the others. Apparently there was not a single captain's position, but a bank of four officers working side by side, each one potentially able to control the entirety of the submarine. Knowing how the RA rolled, the duplication was meant as a safety measure to ensure that, was a Spirit device to suddenly fail, no single lone wolf would be able to break the orders and put the Sentence in danger.

There had been a specialized sonar team, apparently: their consoles, much different from the four main ones, were lined down the right side of the room. They provided an accurate visualization of a wide variety of factors, beginning with depth and temperature of the water column. The screens visualized the relative position of the all-important thermal layers and displayed an anticipation of how they deflected, muffled and otherwise disturbed the transmission of noises in the water and the employment of sonar. Sebastian, naturally, rushed towards one of those consoles and studied it with great interest, while Galen and Sandy walked up to a couple of the large dome-consoles in the middle of the vast room.

It became evident at first glance that the RA officers had literally been hooked to those powerful computers, connected directly with cables that plugged into their Spirit devices, but now they were all gone. There was almost no blood at all on the floor, which made the two submariners wonder how exactly the enemies had been disposed of... Killer's Praetorians had made short work of them all, destroying them so utterly that not even stains of gore were left. Only the cables, which now dangled uselessly down over the large and relatively comfortable seats, were visibly bloodied and sometime still had small pieces of flesh still attached to them. The sinister sight of those little remains had Sandy and Galen shivering in horror as they tried to imagine the brutal force that had crushed those unfortunate beings literally out of existence, cancelling them like they had never existed at all. Some of the officers had retreated in a hurry towards the soldiers' quarters, hoping to find safety there, but Sekhmeth had intercepted them on the way out and quickly punched them almost literally into vapor, one by one, her heavy fist smashing through their upper bodies like they were made of sand, her bicep bulging with tremendous power as she laughed in cruel amusement.

Even with that unpleasant, intimidating thought tormenting them, the three submariners eagerly went about studying the various systems to determine how many sailors were going to be requested. It soon became evident that a single operator in one of the largest consoles could more or less do everything on its own, such was the level of automation. Sticks and pedals controlled the hydroplanes like they would the flaps and ailerons of a fighter jet, and pushing the throttle forwards they could command more power out of the nuclear reactors. Judging from the data on the screens, the Sentence had no less than eight different nuclear cores, split evenly in banks of four in each of the side-hulls.

The Praetorians had swiftly captured all of the nuclear reactors and of the connected machinery spaces, ensuring that the RA could not initiate a self-destructive core fusion or some other extreme measure to kill the invaders. They had already reported back saying that the reactors were individually sealed and almost completely automated and operated remotely. The propulsion system, as they had imagined, was buried deep into the side-hulls, into vast tunnels that allowed water to flow through. A handful of technicians were going to be more than enough to control all of the machinery.

Galen and Sandy had no Spirit devices of their own, thankfully, so they couldn't directly plug their minds into the machine and do everything at once, but with Sebastian's help and that of just three or four others they were going to be able to run all of the submarine's systems from the control room. A prize crew of a dozen sailors was all what was required to safely sail the Sentence all the way back home, while the Audacious had a crew of around one hundred. The difference was incredible, especially considering how much bigger the RA vessel was. Galen's, Sebastian's and Sandy's enthusiasm grew visibly as they sat down into the main consoles and began to familiarize with them, digging up more information about the Sentence. The system was very intuitive, at least for officers as experienced as they were, so they assured Killer that they would soon be able to begin the journey. Within a few moments, Galen actually managed to bring on the mega-screens on the walls the graphic of the Sentence's insides, revealing the location of the laboratories. Sikanjal's quarters and the genetic labs occupied much of the central hull, just aft of the enormous depot of the gigantic super-torpedoes that had been so terrifying to witness from on board the Audacious. According to the map, the laboratory was a truly cavernous space, extending for the height of no less than twenty decks, and the same was true of Sikanjal's quarters: that allowed her to live comfortably aboard even while towering hundreds of feet tall. A red light blinked at the height of the genetic laboratory, and Killer imagined what it meant, even before Galen confirmed: "Sikanjal has barricaded herself into the laboratory."

"Thanks, Galen." Killer calmly replied, before looking at the expectant faces around him. All disciples were eager to be part of the massacre ahead, but Killer knew that there were other battles ahead of them and that they should not overly indulge their temptations. There was much still to do, beginning with putting the damn space shuttle to work and, hopefully, reach Cerberus's space base. As he gazed at his goddesses, however, Killer rumbled in dark delight and realized that cutting it short was going to be very difficult. For too long a time he hadn't been able to enjoy their company and their servitude. Now all of their powerful, spectacular bodies were there, in easy reach, on display for him.

Mriya and Elaine, with their muscular bodies clad in living, terrible darkness, crossed their arms with delicious confidence and stared at him from the first time, their eyes glowing with such lust and cruel eagerness that leaving them out was simply impossible. He had dreamt too much of their bodies and of their slavish adoration while he was nailed to his cross of torment. Vera, naturally, was also in: it was time for her to get her collar. And Sekhmeth, already drenched in blood from head to toe and crackling with destructive, sadistic-masochistic hunger and apocalyptic energy, she had to be there as well... so Killer cleared his throat and leaned slightly down towards Galen, saying: "It is time for us to... to fix the Sikanjal problem. You, however, should not leave this room. Don't leave this room, understood? This area of the submarine is safe, and nothing should happen to you here. If you see anything weird, just think of me, and I will rush to your aid."

"Yes, my God." The young captain confirmed, although there was one part of him that, suspended between awe and horror, craved for the chance to follow him and the goddesses and assist to the monstrous blood-orgy that, he knew for sure, was going to follow. Killer traded a look with Sebastian and Sandy as well, easily able to see the conflicting emotions in their eyes, but he did not want them to see what his monstrous side was truly like. A form of shame, maybe... but primarily the awareness that they were mortals, they were frail, and if they got anywhere near to the furious orgy they were going to be crushed into pulp by the mere energy that their godly, hulking bodies were going to radiate in the height of the ferocious act. He looked down at the little Desire, resting in the strong arms of her mother Savannah... the rational part of his mind warned him that a toddler like her should not be allowed anywhere near a scene like that, but the eyes of Savannah burned with vicious hunger and with the clear intention of further "baptizing" the new goddess in the essence and power of her father. And that eagerness aroused Killer, and fed the fire of his own hunger, so that he only grinned as he walked past Savannah, licking his lips at the sight of his colossal sperms coiled around the little girl like anacondas, oversized, overpowered beasts that protected and dominated her. Desire only looked up at her father with adoration and bliss, already thickly marked in his hypervirile essence, already basking in his masculine power, while Savannah cradled her with affection and with real pride at being able to offer him her child like that.

They descended the stairs for several levels, when walked down a long and vast corridor that had been vainly sealed with a multitude of heavy, watertight shutters that Boadicea had already peeled open like tuna cans. The RA garrison that had attempted to stop the Princess of Hell had been vast and heavily armed, but it had ended up quickly crushed into mush and ugly crimson stains on the floor and the walls. Nothing remained of the vast army that the Sentence had carried, and nobody attempted to block Killer as he walked towards the black-and-red double doors leading into Sikanjal's private apartment. Those too had been smashed wide open by Boadicea, who had wandered into the small but luxurious lair beyond. The sharkess waited on the threshold, leaning against Satan's Bane as the heavy spear-mace dripped blood and pulped remains, and she grinned as she held up the severed head of a Gigataur in her other hand. "The whore had a few toy-boys in her apartment. They tried to cause trouble, but I've quickly solved the issue."

"Good, good..." Killer rumbled, reaching up to caress her features, their eyes glowing with matching lust as they met, before he pushed the heavy double doors wide open and stepped into the dark room beyond.

He made a bit of a grimace, snorting in entertainment and trying to decide whether he liked the cave-like room or not. Sikanjal evidently felt some nostalgia of Hell, because the den was set up as an infernal throne room, with great stone pillars, bloodstained altars and a messy, vast bed of cushions and robes right in the middle of an arena-like bowl in the middle of the circular room. The broken corpses of several other massive demons co were sprawled all over the room: their heavy armors and huge weapons hadn't had any effect on Boadicea.

A dark corridor went from the throne room straight towards another massive set of double doors, and there could be no doubt that Sikanjal was beyond those. Killer didn't even bother checking what was in the rooms on either side of the corridor, because the monstrous, terrifying aura of his unwanted son burned with terrible ferocity straight in front of him, seeming to challenge him, endlessly and rapidly growing as the Child developed and evolved at fantastic, impossible rates.

Killer slammed his palms into the heavily armoured doors and effortlessly smashed them wide open, ripping the hinges out of the thick, armoured bulkheads. The room beyond was definitely part of a sophisticated genetic laboratory, with its walls of clear metal and tools and machinery that reminded Killer of his cell on Thanathos's dead world. There were no scientists in sight, however... at least, not ones that breathed. Several corpses were scattered on the floor, utterly devastated: most seemed to have simply exploded, and now were unrecognizable masses of gore and pulp that leaked slowly out of heavy chemical protection suits. Some other corpses had been torn into halves, or in even smaller pieces, by some kind of terrifying force that had cut through them more cleanly than any blade ever could. There were hundreds upon hundreds of corpses, all of them horrendously devastated.

Sikanjal was in the middle of that sickening slur of gore and body parts, her body massive and bulging with new and powerful muscle, her height enormously increased, so much so that she could not have stood up without smashing right through the roof, even though the ceiling was easily more than 600 feet above the floor. Killer and his Disciples had to tilt their heads back to look up at her towering figure, which dwarfed them even as she rested on her ass, propping herself up with her arms as her grotesquely immense belly threatened to crush her under its weight. Gone were her strong, perfectly chiseled abs, stretched out and distended completely out of shape by her monstrous pregnancy. Her breasts were enormous and heavy, swollen not with milk but with incandescent, thick, brutal corruption and hypervirile gunk coming from the beast that was growing inside her. Her form was hulking with muscles larger than ever before, massive and strong enough to crack and shatter her dark armor. Enormous chords of hard muscle thrummed with power and swelled so much that they tore her flesh apart and caused her armory scales to separate and flake off, her blood leaking sluggishly out of those gashes before they were quickly filled up by yet more muscle as her body grew without control. She was the image of chaotic, ever-growing, uncontrollable power... but in reality she was, at the same time, much weaker than she had been in a very long time.

The monster inside her belly was devouring her flesh and consuming her energies, and the scientists that had tried to help her turn the tables on the Child had been slaughtered and torn into bits by that unborn, still-developing monstrosity. The corruptive, tremendous essence of the Child already pumped in her veins, so dark and incandescent to be clearly visible, even though her scales and flesh. They could see the black veins pulsing and swelling, her muscles spasming violently as they bulged explosively, and dark drool feet from the corners of her gaping mouth, leaking down into her cleavage and flooding, rapidly forming a deep puddle and then thick rivulets down her swollen belly.

Her head pounded with pain so intense that Killer swore he could see it: her skull seemed to pulse and grow slowly larger as huge, thick black veins pushed up through her neck and all the way up to her brain. Her eyes bulged out of their sockets as dark, thick corruption leaked out of them, streaking down her cheeks as she sweated and trembled, her chest heaving visibly as she struggled to breathe. Her devastated, gaping vagina bulged outwards, grotesquely swollen, her cervix prolapsed out, hanging out of her, where the girth of Killer's titanic cock had dragged it, nearly yanking her whole womb out. What was left of her savaged cervix was gaping absurdly, horrendously wide as Killer's thick black essence gushed endlessly out of her, squirting out in ever-incandescent cascades between the monstrous, gargantuan tails of a multitude of colossal sperms that stubbornly smashed into her already hyper-pregnant womb, overeager to fill it again as soon as a iota of space was available. The massive, spiked heads of those great, glorious monster-sperms were clearly visible through her broken hide, forcing the already stretched-thin flesh of her abdomen into a multitude of bulges so cruel that they split her scales and caused them to fall away, revealing the bloody flesh beneath. The "Child" was already enormous, and the outline of his hulking, herculean body was clearly recognizable in the grotesque bulge of her belly: he was curled on himself still, arms half-wrapped around the bent legs, his limbs already thick and massive with glorious, formidable muscles to put full grown gods to shame.

Sikanjal was crushed by that growing beast, consumed like nothing more than food: her muscles swelled larger by the moment, but none of that power was hers, for He was clearly in control. His monstrous, corruptive darkness was replacing Sikanjal's very blood and filling up every inch of her helpless body, bursting out of her nostrils, her eyes, even her ears, choking her on his essence. He was outgrowing the confines of her body, and massive chords of dark, indestructible muscle mass had already torn through her wounds, coming from her womb but now coiling around her body, reaching for the glowing Soulstones that she had had implanted in her form to grow her power. Now those divine fuel cells, literally made of fallen gods trapped into crystal, were being strangled and slowly crushed into pieces by the chaotically growing masses of corrupted flesh and muscle. Energy crackled down every single chord of those powerful growths, visibly rushing down into her womb, feeding the monster inside, making him stronger and helping him grow even larger.

From what Killer could remember of their last encounter, he could tell that not a single one of her wounds had managed to heal: the Child's chaotic power had exploited them, growing and expanding through those weak points to lash out against the world from the very beginning. Angry, thick, muscular tentacles dripping acid corruption violently slashed back and forth, pushing out of the horrendous wounds in her broken form, causing her ribs to creak audibly as they greedily slurped out of her chest. There was no doubt that those huge growths, together with the sheer immensity of the dark energy that the Child radiated, had slaughtered and massacred the scientists, cutting down to size everyone who dared coming close to Sikanjal. Killer had no idea how the demonic goddess had planned to consume the Child and add his power to hers to become invincible, but whatever the plan, it had clearly been shattered very quickly. The Child was too powerful, even as soon as Killer had pumped him into her, for her to control it and consume it. In his ferocious high, in the throes of his pleasure, Killer had filled her up with semen that had more power than Sikanjal had dared to dream of. The beast in her belly went far beyond her understanding, and with every moment that passed it became more powerful and more dangerous.

"D-don't you dare...! Don't you dare to come any closer!" Sikanjal cried out, but her broken, sobbing, trembling, breathless voice only made Killer rumble with dark, savage pleasure. She was terrified, and at the same time she was uncontrollably, cripplingly needy, uncontrollably lustful for him. Her grotesquely prolapsed and savagely overfilled cunt flexed visibly, clenching in orgasm, helplessly crying out in need for him... even though she was so broken that most of the fluids rushing out of her were actually cascades of his cum, thicker than tar and hotter than magma, terribly, monstrously alive even after all that time. "S-stay back, Killer... don't...!" She again whimpered, scampering backwards a little, clawing into the floor to drag herself along but failing to make any real progress, burdened as she was by that grotesque belly. Her obliterated sex clenched again, flexing around the tangle of immense sperm-tails that hang out of her and draped all the way down onto the floor. Her eyes bulged as she spotted the goddesses that followed Killer: Mriya, Elaine, then Sekhmeth and Boadicea, all of them grinning lustfully, predatorily... and even though Sikanjal currently loomed over them all like a mountain, she knew all too well that appearances were meaningless. The demonic goddess again attempted to sit up and retreat from them, trying to prepare for a fight, but even as she spread her arms and formed terrible javelins of crackling black energy in her hands, Killer and his Disciples continued to fearlessly advance. The monster in her belly stirred as well, his heavy head crowned with massive bull horns looking up as if it could see right through her flesh, and his corrupted, tremendous tentacles stretched out of her wounds with even greater size and force, slashing angrily through the air and leaking acid fluids that corroded and melted the metallic walls and tore through them like they were sheets of flimsy paper.

"It's too late, you... you can't stop me...!" Sikanjal snarled, but it was an empty threat that sounded false even to her ears. She angrily stabbed her twin javelins of energy against Killer, but the huge male reached up with his bare hands and caught both of them, stopping them in midair... and then shoving back against her, grinning as he effortlessly forced her backwards, even though she was literally hundreds of feet taller and larger than him. She struggled against his terrifying physical strength, flexing and pushing, leaning forwards as best she could, but his massive biceps bulged and he arched his back with a snicker, forcing her weapons up and hefting her whole off the floor, smashing her skull into the roof, which crumpled like paper and tore apart as her horns of crystal tore through multiple decks of the Sentence. She grunted when he tossed her back down, snorting in contempt, and she made the mistake of channeling even more of her energies down the great javelins, zapping him with dark lightning bolts... which he welcomed with a rumble, his hulking muscles flexing and bulging with power as he devoured her energies like nothing more than food. "You can't stop me! You can't!" Sikanjal cried out, her eyes flashing with powerless rage as she lashed out at Killer with her psychic force, but Mriya and Elaine, flanking him, raised their hands as their own eyes burned with power, and their combined forces formed a solid wall against which the demoness violently crashed. Sikanjal recoiled with a grunt of shock, blood bursting out of her nostrils and ears as her head pounded viciously, and she looked down in horror as the Child exploited that moment of weakness to even further rob her strength away, his timorous growths clenching around yet another Soulstone, cracking it like a cheap piece of glass. She let out a breathless gasp as the precious jewel was pulverized and assimilated into the chaotic dark growth, and she felt even more of her energies leaving her as the "Child" consumed another god, adding to his already terrible power. As Killer inexorably approached, her eyes widened in terror and awe, admiring him, fearing him, locking on the gargantuan black cock that arrogantly jutted from his groin, massive and colossal and only semi-hard, weighted down by its own terrifying mass and leaking with endless, excessive production of hyperpotent Alpha waste. Drool fell from her gaping maw as she let out a small sound of mixed terror and hunger, her hand clenching into a fist as she formed a great whip of dark fire in her grip, slashing it towards the huge male... but Sekhmeth caught it like it was a toy, restraining it with just one hand and pulling up the other to form her own fiery whip, which she snapped savagely into the demoness's swollen, leaking breasts, tearing a deep, incandescent wound into them.

"Don't you dare moving another step!" Sikanjal roared, but it came out as a desperate whimper.

She was vulnerable and hopeless and His. His alone. He had already heard voices like that, so many times... voices of terrified girls who realized that they had bitten off far, far more than they could ever hope to chew and that attempted to bargain for their lives while unable to tear their eyes off him. Those whimpers and cries were deliciously familiar... they had been the last sounds coming from a multitude of tight, fresh victims. They awakened a real beast in him, making him lick his muzzle as he flexed his powerful form and grew, rapidly, gloriously, in the space of a single step growing so much that his mane pushed into the roof far above, and as he went down to his knees, towering in front of Sikanjal, he grew even further, so much so that even in that position he filled up the cavernous room. The demonic goddess squirmed and uselessly attempted to crawl backwards, away from him, while lashing out against him with her terrible psychic force... but that only made him grin even wider as all of her force crashed into his broad, masculine force and failed to even indent the solid muscle of his pecs. Oh, she was so vulnerable now... now that he was free, unleashed and unbound, all of her strength couldn't even gain her a single minute. She was just like so many girls that he had violated, abused and utterly destroyed in the past... and while he couldn't certainly say he was proud of those slaughters, he also couldn't deny the savage pleasure they filled him with.

"Killer, please, don't...!" Sikanjal pathetically begged, but the huge male's grin only widened as he slowly, majestically leaned forwards over her, eyeing her swollen, immensely pregnant belly and stroking his gigantic, terrifying cock, which thrummed with power and swelled even larger, beginning to harden with majestic laziness, as if to show contempt for that piece of meat. Her enormous belly promised indescribable feelings of tightness. So tight that it might even hurt, maybe... but he only squeezed hard into his girthy, colossal shaft, knowing that even now, even only semi-hard, he could ram through her and fuck her into pieces. Her prolapsed, gaping, devastated sex made for a grotesque sight, especially with his own sperms hanging out like that, but what it didn't have in beauty it would have in tightness. Extreme, unmatched tightness, with her cervix pushed out like that, with her womb pushing out of her and full of life. Two lives were lined up for him to impale and destroy, and that made him snort steam from his nostrils, muscles bulging with barely restrained power.

"I told you that I would take care of you, and of him. I've created him, and I will also destroy him." Killer stated calmly, grinning coldly. "I always keep my promises... and you should be glad for it. You are dead anyway. You clearly can't control him."

"S-stay back!" Sikanjal squealed, even though her eyes bulged, staring into his and betraying the awareness that he was right, that she was already being consumed like nothing but food. And even as she uselessly pushed against his massive chest, her body trembled with lust and need, muscles flexing as she helplessly orgasmed yet again, hips vainly attempting to buck while the weight of the huge Child pinned her down. "I will control him! I will devour both you and him!"

Killer laughed darkly at that, grinning as Vera flexed her powerful body and grew, energy crackling around her as she squeezed past Sikanjal, walking around her and then grabbing her by the shoulders, leaning down with a smirk and taunting: "I'd love to see you try, you whore." The Doberman winked, then stroked her hands down the curve of the demonic goddess' enormous belly, reaching forwards to touch the devastated labia of her sex, grinning as she felt the juices and blood and thick semen leaking out of her. "The only part of you which might "devour" a part of him is your cunt... and even that will not end in your favor. Although it sure seems you are eager for it!"

"How dare you, traitorous bitch!" Sikanjal growled, trashing violently and reaching up to grab Samara's head, but the Doberman easily dodged, and Killer grabbed the demoness by the muzzle, crushing her jaws in his fingers and looking down into her eyes as he softly remarked: "Don't you ever insult my daughter again."

Sikanjal's eyes opened wide at that idle revelation, and a tremble went through her form. Killer's soft tone was more terrible than any shouted threat or roar. It dominated her with crushing force, and it doomed her with its supreme confidence. He was in control and he knew it. The dark god, the beast, leaned forwards over her swollen, broken body, pinning her beneath his much larger, far stronger frame, making her shiver in fear and awe. She slammed her fists against his chests, clawing into him, but he only chuckled and flexed, grinding down into her, letting her feel the full mass and power of his muscles, letting her despair at his apparent invulnerability, before she gasped breathlessly, staring up at his grin while his monstrous, gigantic black cock slammed down upon her hugely swollen belly.

The Child stirred at that and let out a howl of pain, fear and rage all mixed together, his massive body flexing and his hands instinctively pushing back against the titanic weight of his father's cock. Sikanjal cried out in pain at that, trembling as she stared at the immense member sprawled like an anaconda over her entire belly and up between her swollen breasts. Her eyes widened as she stared at the gargantuan flare of his giant cock, fearfully looking down the dark abyss of his cock-maw, revealed as his thick, heavy foreskin slurped slightly back. She panted breathlessly, gaping at the immense, terrible weight of his member as it crushed her down into the floor. He was teasing her and the monster within her, letting them both know that their time was over, leaning over them just enough to let them feel some of the weight and prodigious dimensions of that mastodon length of godmeat. It made her feel small, weak and vulnerable... so aware that her life was completely in his hands... that he was going to break her into pieces with just his cock... hell, he could crush her out of existence beneath that massive thing... And there was something glorious in that, especially as her nostrils flared, greedily sniffing in the incredibly potent musk of the dark god. The smell was indescribable: overwhelming, overpowering, absolute maleness that made her tremble and drool, her mouth gaping in irrational, undeniable need. And she helplessly groaned when that monstrous godcock flexed and grew even larger and heavier, the massive flare pushing forwards as the colossal shaft hardened, and Sikanjal grunted as it literally smashed into her face, heavy and hard and invincible, ripping a deep gash into her cheek, making her teeth creak, nearly crushing one eye out of her socket... before she cried out in terrified lust as the vast cockmaw gaped open even wider and erupted a huge load of black precum festering with terrible, chaotic, ferocious life, an excessive, overpowered mass of hypersperms tangled tightly together, barely able to move as their long tails struggled to separate. It smacked into her face with such force to knock her skull backwards, the dark, corruptive essence flooding her mouth and her nostrils and covering her whole features in hyperpotent essence, making her cough roughly, choking on his mighty taste and on that thick, sticky load that coated her and jetted far past her, slamming into the wall far away with the force of cannonfire, tearing through steel like it was nothing. And that was just a bit, a hint of his pre.

She shoved against him, struggling against his hulking form as he slammed down one arm on either side of her, covering her completely, dwarfing her with his herculean form as his muscular back ground into the ceiling and bent it out of shape like it was nothing a sheet of plastic pulled taunt upon his muscles. But her useless struggling was already changing, her hands almost stroking him, exploring his chiseled muscles, needingly grabbing and squeezing into his enormous biceps and mountain-like chest as he leaned domineeringly down over her. She panted, chest heaving as she pushed her head up against his chest, grinding into him and clawing into his massive shoulders more to pull him closer than to try and push him away. She couldn't even look up at him because his thick, sticky black precum had glued her eyelids shut, but she all but ground her face into the thick, curly hair of his mane that ran down between his formidable pecs, doing what she could to scoop some of that hot, tar-like stuff out of the way... and when she finally managed to painfully tear her eyes open, the huge male grinned down at her and calmly said: "I'll end you in the same way I destroyed your sister. Soon enough, you'll be nothing but a stain on my cock... if even that. My cum will probably erase the little dirt you'll leave behind. I'll rip you apart, butcher you like the worthless piece of meat you are..." He tilted his head back, licking his lips as he slowly, majestically balled his hand into a massive fist, pushing it gently against her muzzle. She fearfully stared at his great knuckles, whimpering and flushing, instinctively pushing her head against his huge fingers as tears rolled down her cheeks and her hips helplessly bucked with a suicidal, masochistic need that she could not repress, nor deny. "But I don't just want to destroy you, no... that would be too great a honor for you, unworthy whore. I want you to beg me for it."

"Father... don't...!" The Child audibly growled from inside her, and the tentacles and parasitic growths pushing out of her wounds viciously lunged against Killer, stabbing into his abs and chest and wrapping around his enormous cock, clenching violently as cruel spikes and blades of adamantine bone jutted out of those chorded, wildly-growing muscles. Sikanjal cried out in agony at that, but Killer only arched his back and flexed, huge muscles bulging as he seized a tangle of tentacles in one hand and savagely ripped, tearing them loose and tossing them away, laughing darkly as they immediately attempted to grow anew. He savagely smashed his strong hand down into the terrible wound, making Sikanjal shriek in agony as he clawed into the corruption growing and spreading through her form and ripped. The spiked tentacles clenched all the harder around his massive body, coiling around him as best they could and clamping down on his tremendous godcock, but Killer only snarled hungrily, fearlessly thrusting forth with his hips, grinding his titanic black cock down over her immense belly and sawing himself in and out of the spiked embrace of his monstrous son's tentacles, rumbling in nothing but dark, cruel pleasure.

"P-please... God... have mercy on me..." Sikanjal cried out, eyes open wide in front of his brutal, limitless strength, and she helplessly kissed his knuckles, licking the massive fist that he teasingly kept pushing lightly against her skull. More of that omnipotent, hypervirile dark gunk sluggishly drooped out of his cock in thick, endless ropes, coating her in his essence, in his overpowering smell and taste, and her poor prolapsed, devastated cunt clenched and cried out in need, already filled to burst with his impossible, fearsome omnivirility but craving even more. "Please, Master... use me... keep me... there must be a way... a way for me to serve you..."

Killer laughed at that, pulling back his huge fist and then slamming it into her face, growling in delight at the splatter of blood that reached all the way up to his face, at the feeling of scales tearing off, of bone cracking and shattering, of her skull whipping violently back to smack into the ground with a violent double crash into the metal. Blood coated his fingers as he smashed her muzzle apart, her nose split apart, her jaw dislocated and broken, tears filling her shocked eyes even as her ruined sex clenched convulsively around his gigantic sperms, her prolapsed, broken cervix winking visibly and her whole body spasming as she groaned out in pain and helpless lust. Killer seized her by the skull, his palm crushing down into her ruined features, his thumb pushing into her "sane" eye, crushing into it as he smacked her head back into the floor once more, pinning her down with a growl. "A little toy like you...? Ask yourself what you could ever be good for." Killer mockingly said, and Sikanjal let out a broken sob, gritting what remained of her teeth as one swollen, semi-broken eye stared at him, rolling helplessly up into her skull as her hips bucked, as she felt the power in his hand, the crushing omnipotence of his body: the power to crush her out of existence like nothing but a bug, his fingers almost playfully squeezing into her skull and deforming it, cracking the bone and sending blood spilling out of her ears and nostrils and even her eyes, mixing with the tears that were smearing her ruined make-up all over her cheeks. He idly thrust forwards, and that monstrous godcock ground down against her belly with all of its murderous weight, causing the Child to squirm and push back against it, grunting and hissing audibly, like a feral beast afraid for its life. The colossal black flared smashed into her face with force to match his fist, sending blood spraying out of her nostrils and ruined muzzle as it nearly crumpled her face inwards, while the immense girth of his veiny shaft pushed into her swollen breasts, pushing them so far apart that Sikanjal cried out in pain, shivers running down her spine as she felt like he would rip both swells right off her chest. The smell of him became her whole world, her whole focus beyond the pain: it was indescribable, overpowering, overwhelming, bitter and arrogant and overpowered and toxic and addictive, making her drool like an animal, making her devastated sex cry out in desperate need even he leisurely moved his hips back and ground that gigantic cock backwards, dragging her body roughly along the steel floor as the great, cruel barbs hooked into her and its sheer weight pinned her down, denting her belly inwards in a way that made her cry out in agony. She trembled in awe as his thick, heavy foreskin slurped loudly back and revealed thick black smegma in which literal stars glinted weakly, their fire extinguished by nothing but his omnipotent Alpha waste, along with the life of countless worlds that she could guess, more than see, buried in that thick filth that had a wonderful, terrible stench of maleness that seared itself with fire into her mind, making her oblivious to everything else. And then he idly thrust forwards again, smashing her face into a bloody mask of ruin, and his cock arrogantly grew even larger, harder, heavier, stronger. More and more and more with every lazy, mocking thrust as he ground her back and forth against the floor, broke her bones with nothing but the astonishing weight of his not-even-fully-hard-yet cock, drenching her in thick, omnivirile dark filth, Alpha waste without equals, richer and stronger than the semen of all past fertility gods summed together. It oozed out of his member in an unending display of excessive, unreasonable, unholy virile power, melting the steel beneath her, causing it to rot away to flaking rust, impregnating it with squirming, growing, terrible Life. It was sweat and filth and lubricant and yet it was obscenely, impossibly crammed full with tangles of gigantic sperms that were terrifying godbeasts, as large as sharks and armored like crocodiles. Muscular, literally. And jutting with cruel spikes from their impenetrable, massive hides. And it was still nothing compared to the omnipotent blasts of precum that erupted out of his member as he growled and flexed, arching his back against the ceiling and crushing and deforming the steel structure of the decks above them, smashing through bulkheads and roofs like they were made of thin air. She could feel and even hear those colossal, universe-mocking loads of omnipotent virility traveling up his arrogant shaft. She trembled whenever his majestic cum channel swelled even larger and ground down into her with brutal force, and she squeaked in a mix of awe and agony, terror and bliss as those absurd ropes of tar-thick dark gunk fired into her face and shot far beyond. She basked in the deluge of hyperpotent precum, trembling as she felt those great ropes coating her whole body, drowning her as the filled up her throat, her nostrils, even her damn ears, choking her, making her almost deaf but not clogging her up enough for her to not hear the colossal impacts of those great loads of masculinity smashing into the far wall of the laboratory, tearing right through it and reaching gods knew how far towards the stern of the Sentence.

She squirmed helplessly beneath that aggression, her tongue doing its best to lap at the thrusting behemoth of a cock, her broken lips leaving on it short-lived stains in blood rather than in lipstick, and she did her best to swallow down heavy, thick mouthfuls of the dark precum, but that was clearly not enough. It could never be enough for that Behemoth looming above her, and even as her face turned into a bloody wreckage, the mastodon flare still couldn't possibly fit, a monstrous mass of flesh that ludicrously dwarfed her muzzle. She drooled, hungrily and uncontrollably, over that behemoth flare, helplessly reaching up to grip into it, into the great barbs, massaging, stroking, squeezing, meekly exploring it as if to make sure that the monster really existed... and Killer laughed darkly and pushed himself up a big higher, grinning as the metal groaned audibly as it bent out of shape against his muscular back while he reached down and gripped into his hardening, fattening, burgeoning monument of hypervirility, which flexed and thrummed so powerfully to smack down into her features at the end of each vigorous "jump", its enormous mass slamming down into her with punishing force.

Sikanjal could only moan weakly as that living immensity pummeled her, her hands uselessly attempting to please it, to jerk it, to push it away from her even as her almost-swollen-shut eyes fixed on the behemoth shaft that flexed and pushed out from his glorious body, thrumming with limitless potency, burning with devastating heat and dripping with her blood and with the ruin of countless helpless worlds and snuffed-out suns. It loomed over her, way too heavy to fully raise its own mighty flare even fully horizontal, and it kept growing even larger, a colossal monolith of flesh that jutted slightly towards the ground because of its own impossible weight. Even with all of her strength, the demonic goddess couldn't stop that murderous tool from beating her into pieces, and her poor little hands looked childlike on that tremendous godhood that she could barely heft a few inches higher.

She heard his Disciples snickering and laughing. She moaned weakly, crying and shivering, uselessly arching her back and flexing and trying to push up against that throbbing obelisk. The dark god just loomed above her, smirking in dark amusement as he let her mock herself, let her push and huff and pant and cry and shove against that monstrous godcock as if she could possibly do something, anything, to push away that titanic god-tower, that universe-stretching, galaxy-busting column of omnivirile power.

Had she had any kind of chance to achieve anything, she would have still failed because every few desperate shoves she actually tugged needingly on the enormous shaft pumping it hungrily, greedily, disbelievingly, admiring the monstrous member and slobbering all over it in a loud, obscene concerto of slurping, suckling, spitting, drowning.

"Suck it, you worthless whore!" Killer commanded, grinning darkly and knowing all too well that she couldn't possibly open up her mouth anywhere near enough. "Have you forgotten how to properly suck a cock, bitch?" Killer mocked, idly thrusting his hips so to smash his titanic member down upon her chest and face, delighting in the cries and in the crunching of bone as she sank helplessly into a crater in the steel floor, her body completely soaked in his omnipotent essence, completely drenched in black precum that burned her scales away like acid, making her body sizzle. Samara grinned savagely as she reached down and grabbed Sikanjal by the sides of her head, steadying her in place and squeezing lightly to force the demonic divinity to open her maws as wide as she could... before Killer brutally clawed blindly into her face, sticking two thick fingers down her throat in the process. "Suck them!" He commanded, but the choking, gargling demonic-goddess had already started, gagging loudly but lovingly polishing his fingers, inch by inch, slobbering and producing large bubbles of saliva as he immediately began to saw his thick digits back and forth, twisting them in and making sure to fully test her gag reflexes, shoving them as far down at they could go, hooking into her gullet in ways that made her squeal out.

Killer yanked his hand back after a moment, and Sikanjal let out a cry of agony as her face seemingly exploded in a splatter of blood and cartilage and fragments of bone as he effortlessly ripped her lower jaw right off, splitting open her throat in the process and turning much of her face into a bloody, gaping hole that flexed rhythmically and bubbled up with the warm blood surging up through her system. The huge male snorted in contempt at that, grinning as he rammed his hips savagely forwards and smashed his tremendous flare into the new hole, crunching bone and ripping flesh and features apart, causing sprays of blood to arch up to paint his broad chest crimson as the goliath cockhead bulldozed its way inside that unnatural hole, crushing her lolling tongue under its immense mass. Her cheeks bulged grotesquely and nearly exploded, her eyes bulging out of their sockets as what was left of her nose was brutally crushed inwards while he glared at the bloody jawbone in his grip with a mocking snort. "Frail." He coldly remarked, before smashing her own teeth hard down into one of her swollen breasts, causing her whole body to spasm violently as she uselessly choked and gargled a shriek around his tremendous, impossible girth. Blood spilled out of the devastated swell as the bone and teeth were rammed right through the armor-like scales and deep into her flesh, before the huge male gripped the great boob and squeezed blood and dark gunk out of it, nearly causing the overwhelmed nipple to explode as the jawbone painfully shattered into sharp fragments that sunk deeper inside the demonic-goddess.

The monstrous Child within her, in an attempt to defend himself, immediately invaded her ruined, bloody breast, sending his dark, mutant tentacles growing up through the wound, but she couldn't even howl in agony because of the monstrous black cock that was ramming down her throat, swelling her neck out so grotesquely and poking outwards with the cruel barbs, so much so that Sikanjal expected her head to be simply ripped right off her shoulders as soon as he pulled backwards. Killer growled as the Child's spiked tentacles viciously erupted out of her ruined breast and coiled around his arm, squeezing into his muscles and attempting to shred them with the multitude of cruel barbs and spikes of bone growing out of the mutant flesh, but it was a rumble of sick pleasure more than pain as he twisted the large swell in his grip, so greedily and mercilessly that he ripped her flesh apart and then tore the breast right off.

He opened his jaws and tossed the bloody morsel inside them, fearless of the mutant tentacles that continued to viciously lash out of the deformed, ruined chunk of meat, and Sikanjal stared with wide-open eyes as he began to slowly and greedily chew, devouring her raw flesh and even the Child's terrible corruption, letting blood and dark gunk and his acid, incandescent drool dripping down all over her features, burning deep into them, all the way down to the bone. She gargled loudly, choking on her own blood and, above all, on the unholy amounts of hypervirile black gunk that he unleashed inside her, immediately causing thick ropes of the stuff to painfully burst out of not just her nostrils but even her ears, before she vomited helplessly around the gigantic monstrosity invading her throat as the godcock flexed in her jaws and threatened to split her skull in two, while the gigantic flare bulldozed its way down into her chest, smashing into her stomach and causing her ribs to creak audibly as they were forced outwards by his tremendous sizes. Thick black precum, sticky and dense, splattered out of her destroyed jaws, spurting violently out wherever it managed to find some space around the great obelisk of cock clogging her full. Her shattered face seemed to flare, the wound's margins stretching out wider as they erupted a mix of precum and food residue that was rapidly dissolved by his powerful essence. It only made the merciless dark god rumble in cruel pleasure as he clawed into her head and shoulder to yank her up, angling her so that his monstrous cock could push deeper without snapping her frail spine. Oh, no, he wanted to keep her alive as long as possible: his fun was barely starting and he wasn't even fully hard yet. He needed to make sure she didn't just break apart too soon. His enormous cock flexed again, growing even larger in her throat and in her stomach, blowing her poor organ out of proportions and causing her chest to bulge grotesquely outwards just as he started to make short, cruel pistons that devastated her insides and caused her to helplessly vomit once more... or at least try to, because she was completely full of his omnivirile dark gunk, way too thick and sticky to come out of her, wasn't for the fact that he kept pumping out unending floods of the stuff. Her bloodied eyes rolled back into her skull as her hands desperately reached up to clutch at his mighty tower of invulnerable black meat, only making him rumble in dark pleasure as she punched, squeezed, tugged, pushed at the monster impaled down her stretched-out throat.

The dark god snorted, looking up to see Samara's eyes burning with lust and love and predatory hunger as she waited for her turn, on her knees and naked, muscular and beautiful and eager. Her hands pushed down between Killer's hulking form and Sikanjal's spasming body and they gripped into the sides of his monstrous black cock, stroking and tugging and guiding it as the Doberman trembled slightly, her juices dripping on the floor, drooling a little as she stared at the massacre in a mix of horror and delight, fear and bliss, bucking her hips slightly with the need to feel him inside her.

Killer snickered and nuzzled her, licking her cheek hungrily, teasingly, while his massive form flexed as Mriya leaned into him from one side and Elaine from the other, their eyes blazing with lust as their hands smeared blood and gore down his abs and then seized into the base of his immense shaft. A grunt told him that Sekhmeth was laying down on her abs and sneaking under him, and he looked down to see glimpses of her crimson mane just as she nuzzled up into his heavy, colossal balls, taking a slow, greedy lick at those sweaty moons of hypervirile potency. They urged him on, whispering teasing words into his ears, massaging his hulking body, stroking his colossal black shaft and grinding their spectacular bodies into him, and the other goddesses surrounded him as well, as Manticora and Kimera laid down on either side of him and leaned forwards to kiss the sides of his monstrous member, lapping and slurping at it, suckling up the thick black cocksludge drenching it, while Savannah grinned with delicious, terrible hunger, all but pushing little Desire under the massive form of his father, where the little girl literally choked on air that was as thick as steak with the male's sweaty, omnivirile, potent musk.

"Father... leave Mother be. Let me come into the world! Let me be Destruction in your name!" The monstrous Child snarled from inside Sikanjal, his voice rapidly growing deeper and more authoritative as his development speeded up even further. "Mother is mine. She is my food!"

"You are a mistake." Killer rumbled, although it sent a shiver down his spine to be addressed in that way by what was always a son of his. "You are an abomination that can't be allowed into the world."

"Don't challenge me, Father!" The Child barked, and they all felt the solid shockwave of psychic rage coming from the monster as it stirred in Sikanjal's belly and clawed into Killer's gigantic black cock as the girthy shaft burdened over the enormously bulging belly. "I am the best thing you ever created! By far the creature with the greatest potential ever to exist! Don't turn your back on me, for I embody what you are all about: Evolution!"

The beast's terrible talons punched out through Sikanjal's belly and tentacles erupted out of the ugly wounds as the demonic goddess flexed in agony and despair, her spine arching almost to breaking point as her muscles swelled larger and stronger, bulging with power... but at the same time gurgling in agony under Killer, made powerful by his essence and his spawn within her but just as easily and quickly ruined and doomed by it. Her body stank of him, was forever stained with his masculine stench, and she choked helplessly on his filthy, still mostly-flaccid godcock, broken and shocked, her whole body spasming out of control. The spiked, terrible tentacles ripping out of her shot violently up towards Killer and even little Desire, but Mriya, Elaine, Manticora and Kimera caught them with matching snarls and ripped them out with savage force, causing the Child to hiss in rage against them all, his psychic fury pounding violently against their skulls and making them wince and recoil as it snarled: "I am destined to Perfection, you fools! Why do you reject me? I'm your future! I'm everyone's future!" The beast roared, flexing his massive form and chuckling as he audibly evolved, growing more powerful, more terrible, more pestilent as dark chords and roots and tentacles of dark, mutant muscle tore through Sikanjal, punching her body even further out of shape as they all converged on the Soulstones that were still embodied in her musculature. "You can't stop Evolution, Father! And neither should you want to!"

The yellow crystals creaked audibly as they were strangled by the rapidly growing appendages, and Sikanjal gargled desperately, eyes rolling up in her skull as her hide tore apart and rotted, her body nearly ripping apart as it bulged around Killer's tremendous godcock and where the Child's growths moved like serpents, invading even her vital organs bulging outwards like cordons and tubes all over her form.

Energy crackled violently out of the Soulstones as the Child crushed them and dragged them down inside Sikanjal's flesh, making her release a spluttering howl of agony from around Killer's colossal black shaft just as he carelessly began to thrust in and out of her ruined face, causing an endless flood of hypervirile black gunk and vomit and drool to spurt out of her devastated muzzle, ruin and blood and squished gore leaking out of her annihilated face as it was dragged up directly from her invaded, obliterated stomach as his massive, monstrous flare and cruel barbs turned the organ into nothing but a stretched-out, broken condom that clung desperately on to that cruel girth. Samara could hardly believe her eyes as the dark god's gigantic flare moved visibly inside the goddess, horribly deforming her chest and audibly cracking her ribs into pieces, sending sharp pieces ripping out through her flesh as the enormous godcock visibly squished her insides and then dragged the broken mess up into Sikanjal's throat, sending unrecognizable chunks spilling out. The Doberman tremblingly reached forwards to grip into the enormous flare through the demoness's stretched-out flesh, and she hissed in a mix of horror and delight at the devastation she felt under her fingers. Sikanjal's head, and even part of her upper body, visibly and audibly moved, yanked out of place by his titanic girth, which threatened to rip her skull right off whenever he slowly, majestically pulled back, causing Sikanjal's eyes to spin wildly up into her head as she drooled blood and ruin and devastation, reduced to a shattered, useless fucktoy that clung on to him just because his girth was too great for the corpse to ever slid off... at least until it definitively split apart, of course.

Killer grinned, and Sikanjal only rattled violently and gurgled, shattered and helpless, her neck ripping and dark precum exploding out as savage, immense sperm-beasts immediately wiggled out of that unsatisfactory host, leaving Vera trembling as she watched on in awe, moaning low in her throat as she welcomed the gigantic sperms, letting them slid over her body and push into her eager, soaked sex as she stared in a mix of terror and arousal and jealousy and other feelings all mixed up at once. It was the first time she witnessed the cruel abuse of virile power that had made him so famous long before his divine nature manifested itself, and she found it glorious: terrible, scary, even disgusting at times, yet arousing and addictive. It was something toxic but so delicious that she only craved for more and for worse as the sight overwhelmed her mind, the stench filled her nose and seared itself with fire in her brain, the squelching, obscene sounds shocked her ears and filled her with lust. And she growled hungrily as Killer slowly, majestically balled his hand into a massive, heavy fist and her hips bucked with a squirt of hot, pearly juice as the titan lashed it down right into a cluster of Soulstones, tearing deep into the muscle and flesh and corruption, squishing even the Child's mutated tentacles, clawing into them with such ferocious hunger that the monster hissed in pain and trashed visibly within his mother's belly.

"They are mine! Mine!" The monstrous being ferociously hissed, but Killer snarled and ripped, yanking out a whole handful of the golden crystals and large chunks of dark, mutating, corrupted muscle. He looked at the petrified, mummified gods imprisoned in the damaged crystals and then crushed them all like they were nothing but pebbles, crumbling them and flexing his massive, powerful arm as the energy of those fallen divinities plunged into the ocean of his own force.

"Mine." Killer corrected, before savagely plucking out another handful of crystals before the Child could consume them. "Like you. Like them. Like everything else." The titan softly said, grinning as all those gods vanished inside him like droplets into an ocean, tiny and unimportant, while the Child trashed angrily and mutated further, as two massive, grotesque arms tore out through Sikanjal's sides, muscular and enormous and pestilent, pulsing with enormous veins that looked like metallic cables and bulged as they pumped corruption towards two large, grotesque hands terminating in terrible, dexterous talon-fingers. Spikes and chunks of bone jutted out of the massive chords of muscle, and Killer seized both mutated arms and pinned them down to the floor, snarling as he began to thrust harder, faster, rougher into Sikanjal's devastated face, smashing her features almost entirely into pulp, busting what was left of her muzzle, breaking her spine like a twig, in one, two, three, four points, each thrust sending blood splattering all over his hulking muscles, while Vera clawed into the demonic goddess's skull with such ferocity to nearly pop it like a pimple. The Child snarled and hissed in a mix of fury and pain as Killer's gigantic cock pushed even deeper and began to smash into him, again and again, while Sikanjal's entire upper body bulged grotesquely out of shape, molded around the fearsome girth of his member as he growled hungrily and fucked her face with savage greed, turning her whole existence into nothing but a toy for his amusement. Her whole body bulging with his monstrous godcock's brutal sizes as it slowly, arrogantly hardened, thickened, bulged, bludgeoned with contempt for her, for her beauty, for her agony, for the flame of her life that became weaker and weaker with every hard thrust. And Sikanjal quaked, her mind well and truly fucked into pieces, her pride completely pulverized as she choked and vomited, gargled and slobbered as the gigantic cock sawed in and out of what had once been her mouth, his glorious shaft strewn with crushed coils of intestine and other pulped pieces of her insides. Even in the middle of her butchering, she couldn't help but struggle to stroke and worship the immense, slimy length of his girth, squeezing in awe into it, tracing thick veins that bulged seemingly with raw power as his filthy, immense cock blasted tremendous loads of dark hypervirility into a body that had already been punched out and brutalized into the shape of his cock, utterly destroying her beauty.

"Don't leave us out, daddy..." Mriya teased, and the huge male rumbled in his chest, flexing his hulking form and unleashing a multitude of enormous, powerful black-fleshed tentacles from his back, all of them muscular, mighty, ending in enormous rounded cockheads, flared at the base and barbed, all of them leaking thick, black, hypervirile scum. The gigantic members lashed through the group of the Disciples, arching down over the goddesses and coiling around them, dragging over their bodies, smearing their thick essence all over them. The goddesses welcomed them with hungry, delighted growls, reaching eagerly up to grasp the slimy godshafts and spreading their legs for them, grinning as other great appendages wrapped around their ankles and held them spread wide. The behemoth cocks ground teasingly into their soaked, dripping labia, and the Disciples hungrily guided the other tentacles to their jaws, opening their mouths wide and greedily taking those gat, dripping heads into their maws, suckling loudly, greedily. The tentacles were eager, impatient, full of tremendous vigor, and they immediately rammed forwards as soon as they met their lips, causing a chorus of blissful groans and the bulging of eyes that blazed with insatiable lust, muscular bodies flexing eagerly as the gigantic cocks rammed down throats and up tight vaginas and even tighter assholes.

"I have more than enough for all of you..." Killer rumbled, his own eyes burning solid sapphire as he looked out over Mriya and Elaine's sprawled bodies, grinning as the tentacles easily hefted them off the ground and rammed in and out of their holes at a savage rhythm, causing their abs to distend as their bellies bulged outwards with the shape of his cocks. The colossal dark god pushed himself up, his back effortlessly tearing through the roof and the decks above as he grinned widely and tore his immense cock hard backwards, yanking Sikanjal up off the crater in the floor as the gigantic flare and the great barbs struggled to come out of her devastated body. When it finally popped out, strewn with broken, crushed guts and half-wrapped up in her bloodied, devastated stomach, it was followed out by a tremendous gush of black gunk and giga-sperms. Sikanjal fell back down with a grunt of despair and agony, gargling helplessly and lurching forwards as she coughed and vomited up colossal loads of potent precum, unable to even catch herself on her trembling arms as she stared in horror at her deformed, devastated body as she coughed up chunky gore and ruin from the horrible hole in her face. The dark god's titanic black cock throbbed powerfully above her, a terrifying monument of hypervirility, a gigantic, monstrous symbol of his utter and total superiority. She had no strength and no desire left for fighting him back in any way, and she only trembled in helpless silence as he stepped forwards, right above her, causing the whole laboratory to quake around them as he carelessly bent the room out of shape, his back smashing up through the rest of the Sentence's decks, crushing and disintegrating them without him even noticing their feeble resistance against his neck and shoulders, the steel barely ever poking into his hard muscles before bending pathetically out of shape, shattering, rolling up and out of his way as he advanced until his godlike testicles smashed into her face and chest, grinding roughly into her as Samara ferociously seized the back of her skull and crushed her up into the musky flesh, the sweaty, curly hair and the slimy base of his titanic black shaft. Sikanjal moaned helplessly and sniffed, hard, loudly, addicted and intoxicated by his indescribable, glorious stench: overwhelming, overpowering, absolute and excessive masculinity that commanded submission and worship. Sikanjal whimpered pathetically as she choked on that thick smell, before all air was cut off as the two beastly boulders of hypervirility dwarfed her face and covered not just all of it but also crushed on her chest and pregnant belly. And the goddess cried out in agony and fear as still Killer pushed forwards, dragging those omnipotent planets of virility up her body, then on top of her head, crushing her neck so violently that it crunched audibly as those goliath sperm-tanks steamrolled over her and forced her to bow forwards, wrenched at a painful position, face crushed against her own pregnant belly as she suffocated under the tremendous weight and incredible size of his balls. He squatted over her with a rumble of entertainment, teasingly grinding that cruel weight on top of mother and child alike, as he taunted: "I could crush you out of existence just like this, flattening you both under my big balls..."

He reached out to grab Mriya and Elaine's large, perfect breasts, rolling one delicious swell in each hand and closing his eyes as his goddesses leaned in to slurp all over his bloodied, murderous cock, coating it in their hot drool and devouring the remains of Sikanjal's insides. "And you know that, don't you...?" Killer teasingly asked as the demonic goddess mashed her face into his immense balls, her moans and whimpers rising higher with desperate need as her eyes rolled up in her skull, panting helplessly and coughing on the ultra-thick dark cocksludge that clogged up her airways. Her body became even more irreversibly soaked with his stench, his masculine scent as those monstrous orbs made a mockery of her, rolling slowly over her with his idle thrusts and making her tremble with every pulse and throb that traveled through the almighty sperm factories.

She whimpered in delight even as her spine cracked like it was made of biscuits, her face thrumming with agony and yet pushing up to smear drool and blood across those godlike balls as she mouthed and suckled at them, and bit into the thick wrinkles of his sac, knowing that there was nothing that she could do that would ever provoke him anything other than pleasure. She literally had no bite anymore... only hot saliva to slobber all over that colossal member as her hands wandered up and helplessly grasped into him, feeling the power and the hardness of his muscles, daring to stroke up over his mighty abs... in awe, in reverence... in worship, even as Killer reached greedily down to grope her last remaining breast, teasing it, clawing into it, hurting it in such cruel and wonderful ways.

The Child again lashed out, violently snapping up the grotesque, oversized mutant arms that had ripped out of Sikanjal's sides. They slashed up and clamped around Killer's torso, massive bone spikes pushing against his form to pierce into his flesh, but the dark god only chuckled and flexed, easily cracking those heavy spikes and forcing them back away from him. The mutant arms slashed down with shock and ferocity, tearing open bloody wounds in Killer's back, but they all healed up almost faster than they were inflicted... and greedy chords of solid, adamantine muscle arched out of those useless gashes, pushing out and wrapping around the Child's mutant "wings", rapidly yanking them down and nailing them in place. The Child roared in surprise and rage and pain at that, his mutant arms flexing and attempting to rip free before they erupted into flames, trying to char Killer's muscles out of existence. The dark god only laughed cruelly at that, flexing his gargantuan muscles and letting his own dark flames erupt out of his back, immediately setting those mutant "wings" on fire and grinning as they trashed in agony and rapidly began to fall apart into charred shreds. The behemoth liger reached down and grabbed the solid, thick roots of those grotesque arms, crushing into them with tremendous force and then ripping them right off, roaring in dark delight as both appendages seemed to explode into flaxes and motes and ashes. Sikanjal let out only a crazed moan, her mind full of Him and only Him. She ground into his murderously-heavy balls as they crushed her almost flat against the floor, her devastated face contorted in suicidal, masochistic delight as she eagerly licked the sweat from his titanic testicles, even as her whole form quaked with the agony. Killer viciously smashed his fists through her bloodied hips, clawing into the spreading corruption of the Child and savagely yanking out chunks of the dark flesh, ripping them out of her with terrible ferocity, but she was broken, ruined, nothing but his, insane and slavishly obsessed. Her hips rocked helplessly as her juices dripped out of her once more, another powerful orgasm tearing through her form and making her shudder and pant, only further intoxicating her with his stench, all the more making her drool and obsess with him and only him.

And then he leaned forwards a bit further and his gargantuan balls rolled off her head and down her back, making her whimper and shake as those wrecking balls spared her, for the moment... only for him to press his musky crack against her face, his heavy tail raising as he ground his ass against her ruined features, grinning in entertainment. He didn't need to order her: she whimpered and meekly pushed her face into his asshole, kissing the muscular ring and slurping on it, licking and lapping with reverence and hunger, sniffing hungrily on his mighty masculine stench as her hands all but blindly reached backwards, fingers brushing the flanks of that monstrous, veiny shaft just as he leisurely pumped his member, delighting in his own power, in his own absurd, heavy girth.

Killer finally pulled away from her soft, wet, disgusting but comfortable face, and he let the massive, monstrous flared head of his cock smash down on her belly and drag heavily along it as he retreated until he could push the titanic godcock against her obliterated sex. The Child trashed and howled and snarled his threats, but they were the cries of a being who knew its time had come. He could literally feel the terrible, unforgiving weight of death traveling along the bulging belly and causing it to dent painfully inwards. Killer grinned cruelly as the monster inside her punched and kicked and trashed against his gigantic cock: It was little more than a massage for him as he guided him cruel immensity down to her already-destroyed entrance. Sekhmeth grinned as the monstrous cockhead smacked down on her face, bruising her cheek even as she greedily caught the titanic shaft in her hands, pumping rapidly back and forth along the last few feet of that prodigious length and slurping on the ultra-thick, hypervirile gunk that sluggishly poured out in a dense, massive rope. The goddess of Destruction licked her muzzle hungrily as she pushed the godlike, monstrously immense cockhead against the prolapsed cervix of the demoness, highlighting the absolutely ludicrous disparity of power as the cruel flare bumped into Sikanjal's groin and forced her legs to part even further, brutally pushing the goddess's whole body along the floor as it throbbed and slapped lightly into her. "Fucking hell, this is how I imagine apocalypse striking!" The dark-furred lioness teased, grinning widely as she guided that tremendous monolith of virility against that tender, sensitive, bloodied wreck of a pussy, using her other hand to playfully spread the tattered labia, peeling those feeble flaps of ripped flesh wide open and making them kiss the rounded, fat, monstrous head of his cock. Sikanjal trembled violently, her legs kicking uselessly at the air as she clearly felt the monstrosity of his godlike proportions, and the Child within her hissed in horror and denial, as if to deter the gigantic invader that was about to spear into him... and then Killer hungrily wrapped one huge, powerful arm around Sikanjal's shoulders and yanked her backwards as he smashed his cock forwards, his hulking body bulging with power as he flexed his sweating form and brutally punched his way into her. Sekhmeth shivered and her hips bucked with a powerful, ferocious orgasm as he witnessed that colossal cock ramming into the goddess's bulging groin, forcing her prolapsed, destroyed cervix back inside her belly as Sikanjal's rump was hefted clear off the ground, her spine bent and compressed in a terrible, unnatural way as that titanic shaft smashed her tight little entrance and rammed up into her already broken pelvis, crunching the bone into crumbles as it tore its way inside her, while a great deluge of dark, hypervirile essence, gigantic sperms, blood, juices and ichors squirted thickly out around his monstrous girth.

Sikanjal howled in agony, but the only sound coming from her clogged throat was more like a gargle, even as her fingers clawed into the steel floor and tore through it as her eyes bulged almost out of her sockets, the terrible hole in her face dripping with drool as she went breathless and silent for a brief second before shrieking again, even louder, even more brokenly as the dark god snorted steam from his nostrils and thrust forwards again, roughly, cruelly bulldozing its way inside her devastated body and forcing more of his infinite, omnipotent destroyer up into her womb, even as the gargantuan flare already slammed into the Child, pushing its body back and stretching Sikanjal's belly so grotesquely taunt that it became almost transparent, clinging to the skeletal, terrible features of the howling monster within her.

"Don't, Father! Don't you dare turning your back on me!" The creature howled from inside her, but his voice trembled and came out shrill as the colossal cock smashed into him with brutal force, knocking him higher up into Sikanjal's body as she threw her head back with another shriek of agony and, unbelievably, of pleasure. Her body flexed and bulged with apparent power, her new muscles flexing and swelling gloriously, but it was only due to the beast within her mutating and growing, expanding inside her as it attempted to resist, to oppose his father's murderous, colossal tower of virility as it smashed forth like a battering ram, crushing one leg at a terrible angle and causing bones to crack audibly.

Killer roared in cruel, terrible delight at that, his hulking form bulging with power as the two lives beneath him quaked and shook and flexed, as blood spurted out of Sikanjal's obliterated cervix and more of the warm fluid squelched out of her wounds and even out of her "mouth", along with a thick, dense, sloppy mess of ruin and gore and ichors.

The huge male snarled in cruel bliss as he felt the Child squirm and claw uselessly into his monstrous black cock, his feet pushing against the massive, tremendous flare and only adding to Killer's pleasure as he tore his claws into the floor and thrust cruelly forwards again, hissing in dark bliss at the sound of bones shattering and splintering like twigs as he bent the monster's legs backwards at an impossible, murderous angle. The Child howled in anguish and fury, punching and clawing at his mother's belly and trying to hit Killer's chest through her, but the dark god only balled one hand into a fist and smashed it brutally down onto that immense pregnant belly, causing an explosion of blood as it tore through scales, flesh and muscle, ripping deep inside her and smacking into the mutant beast-god, pulping some part of him and causing Sikanjal's and the Child's screams to mix together in a cry that sent a shiver of cruel bliss down the god's spine.

The ravaged remains of her obliterated pussy twisted inside out and spilled out of her bloody, blown-apart groin when the huge male dragged his immense back backwards, and Sekhmeth greedily opened her jaws, drinking of the vile, filthy rain of blood, gore, juices, precum and ruin that dripped from that monstrous cock and spilled out around his girth. He purposefully granted her some time to lean up and lap along the thick, bulging underside of his shaft, her features grinding eagerly into the veiny member, washing into the blood and the gore. Then he slammed back inside, brutally smashing the prolapsed ruins of her pussy up inside her, shoving them far deeper than they should have ever been, save for all the parts of her folds that simply tore apart, uselessly clinging on to his terrifying girth or hanging limply from the ruins of her groin.

Killer growled, back arching, muscles bulging, body flexing as he gritted his fangs and became more savage, more massive, more powerful as he again struck down against the bulging belly, carelessly ripping off chunks of her flesh and of the Child's corruption as the monster within her squirmed and desperately evolved, becoming more hideous, bursting forth with darkness and unrestrained, uncontrolled power. Spiked tentacles erupted out of the wounds in Sikanjal's form, each one covered in pulsing tumors and pestilent, rapidly-evolving life. Sikanjal howled in anguish as her body swelled unnaturally, deformed by the hideous growths of the monster within her, and Killer snorted in distaste as large, ugly eyes bulged within wounds in the tangles of growing tentacles.

"Father... in a way or another, I'm coming into the world. You can welcome me and feed me willingly... or be devoured while you scream and beg for mercy!" The Child growled, and his voice was deeper, stronger, more terrible now as he flexed against the tight confines of his mother's body. Massive chords of tentacle-like muscle fibers and sinews grew out of him and spread through Sikanjal's ruined form, turning her arms into another pair of limbs for him, and other large eyes suddenly burst open into her shoulders as they grew more massive, more powerful, jutting with great spikes of bone and dark metal. "Evolution can't be stopped! You are just a stage of Evolution... one that has already outlived its usefulness. I'm the true Perfection!" The child chuckled darkly, snarling in pleasure as his body flexed and mutated, evolving rapidly and growing, both in sizes and musculature, his body armoured with dark growths of bone-metal and wounds that festered with parasitic, terrible life, leaking dark corruption pumped by veins and cables and tubes bulging beneath his armour-like hide. Sikanjal howled in agony, trashing violently beneath him, but then her eyes snapped wide open as her gaping chasm of a muzzle snarled, with her voice, the same cruelly gleeful roar coming from the Child: "Evolution can't be stopped!"

Sikanjal's arms, turned into grotesque, massive weapons bulging with enormous muscles and armed with cruel spikes and blades that jutted and serrated erratically, spinning and moving terribly around a multitude of eyes and thick tangles of tentacles and tendrils that moved out of their own accord, lashed up viciously towards Killer's neck, her hands turning into deadly collections of long, flexible talons that glowed with supernatural heat. Manticora swiftly reached for her twin Kukri blades and slashed them into the hideous, enormous limbs, burying them in all the way to the hilts and then yanking in the opposite directions to rip the great limb apart, but the Child only snarled in dark glee as his appendage mutated further, weeping out a thick gout of corruption before the large wound exploded forth with a multitude of metallic tendrils and tentacles that swarmed over the zebra goddess, piercing into her hide and crawling under it, making her snarl in pain and fury as they began to pump poison and acid directly into her form, while coiling all around her and forcing her arm to bend at a painful angle.

The incandescent talons slashed into Killer's shoulders and neck like terrible, oversized sabers, cutting with terrible ease through his normally impenetrable hide and muscles, but the huge male only snarled in eager fury, his eyes glowing with cruel lust as he flexed and leaned down with all his mass and power, seizing the mutated arms in his hands and forcing them away from his head, then smashing them down into the floor.

"I. Am. Evolution." Killer growled, grinning darkly as other massive, thick tentacles emerged from his body, like fat, ravenous snakes, pythons made of metal-like muscle and able to strangle entire universes in their coils. Ridges and bulges of veins and cables and bone grew along their bodies, jutting outwards like serrated blades. Some of them ended in skull-like heads with massive, terrible jaws. Others ended in harpoons of bone that twisted and spun with eager cruelty as they crawled down his muscular arms and shot forth into the mutated limbs of the Child, tearing through them and beginning to grind them into mincemeat and pieces of metal wreckage, blood and sparkles flying from the monstrous clash, while the beast-like tentacles arched high up into the air and then dived with indescribable ferocity, snapping their jaws upon their rival growths and chewing them into pulp, ripping huge chunks off. "I've not even begun to try yet... and I need no successors. As I've created you, I will destroy you. You are not different from the Horrors out there, in the end." Killer calmly said, acid drool leaking from his jaws as he vengefully thrust his titanic cock inside Sikanjal, ramming it into the broken, deformed legs of the beast and grinning at the sound of squelching, ripping meat and cracking bones. He could feel the beast's body shifting and mutating around his immense girth, attempting to rebuild itself and evolve even further, but that squirming and squelching only made him growl in greater pleasure and even more ferocious hunger, his hips slamming that unforgiving pillar of godly hypervirility inside her already-massive, grotesquely bulging abdomen. Two enormous tentacle-cocks pushing out of his back twisted down around their tangled bodies and found the goddess's horrendously gaping asshole, and immediately rammed viciously inside her. She howled in agony as blood sprayed thickly out as the tentacles bulldozed their ways inside her, causing two new, massive, terrible serpentine bulges to stand out of her ruined abdomen, deforming the already grotesquely enormous shape of the titanic godcock that was so clearly visible through her devastated form.

Manticora angrily yanked the countless tendrils out of her arm as soon as Killer's beast-tentacles severed the Child's appendages, and she flexed as her muscles rapidly healed, bulging with undiminished power, and her eyes glowed with terrible energy as she leaned forwards to suckle up some of the thick, hyperpotent dark sludge that covered Killer's tentacles. It was a boost of pure, terrible, obscure power that made her hiss in vengeful, cruel bliss. The muscular zebra clawed viciously into Sikanjal's body, ripping into her just as the demonic goddess's back arched violently, a howl of anguish coming from her shattered muzzle as she was literally crushed between two unholy, omnipotent beasts who seemed to know no limit to their dark, tremendous power. Killer laughed cruelly as he flexed his enormous muscles and rammed forwards again, burying his titanic pillar of virility deep within her, crunching bones like biscuits and ripping through something within her, tearing into the Child's form and growling at the sinister sound of ripping and squelching flesh and organs as he began to saw himself faster, harder, rougher in and out of her, dragging out pieces of not just her insides but of the monster growing within her as well.

"Fuck, yes...! Keep squirming, you little monster!" Killer taunted, grinning greedily as he gyrated his hips and ground his terrifying girth inside the messy chunks of broken flesh and bone that filled her deformed belly, bursting out of her in macabre waterfalls of chunky, black precum whenever his monstrous girth ripped back out. One leg of the child ended up compressed, crunched, shattered, compressed into an impossible mess of maimed muscle and pulverized bone as Killer's cruel flare punched it up into the monster's groin, causing even the unborn beast to wheeze breathlessly for a moment. Manticora drooled hungrily as she stared at the monstrous spectacle of those colossal bulges punching their way out through her belly, and her hands clamped greedily into the snaking, enormous bulge made by one of Killer's mighty tentacles as it viciously pumped up Sikanjal's ass. The muscular, enormous tentacles visibly coiled around the Child and then violated him with brutal force, sending a howl out of the creature's skeletal jaws. Manticora greedily pumped on those almighty members with both of her hands, her claws tearing bloody trenches in what remained of Sikanjal's body, and she leaned up hungrily at the same time, meeting Killer for a brief but hungry kiss, their drool mixing and hanging in ropes from their muzzles as he almost devoured her smaller face, biting lightly into her muzzle, even her cheek as his tentacle-like, forked, muscular, massive tongue pushed forwards and invaded her mouth, wrestling her tongue into submission and then promptly invading her throat. The huge male growled and snorted hot steam over her face as he tasted himself in her mouth, his hyperpotency completely dwarfing and replacing her own taste... and the zebra goddess grunted in bliss and shock as the goliath tentacles ravaging her holes suddenly hefted her clear off the ground and began to thrust all the harder up inside her, causing astonishing, sickening bulges to travel visibly up her form, stretching her chest to a point that it looked like she'd simply burst apart in a splatter of blood and black cum. Her eyes rolled up in her skull and his glowed as he rumbled in delight when the two colossal members coming up from beneath all but ground into his tongue, pushing up inside her throat, bulging her neck grotesquely outwards.

Killer's tongue spiraled for a moment around those two colossuses, squeezing into them, milking them... and then he pulled back, growling hungrily as Manticora vomited up a huge, thick load of life-giving omnivirile gunk, her jaws hanging open as the flared, enormous cockheads threatened to push right through and impale her completely. Killer licked his lips, slowly, giving a little nod of approval, and the zebra trembled in bliss, hips bucking as and juices spraying out of her as the tentacles bounced her whole body up and down like she weighted nothing. Before she could do more than cry out his name, another of his tentacles again coiled around her throat, squeezing hungrily into the solid forms of its siblings and finally arching up to invade her mouth, making her gargle helplessly as she was slammed hard back into the wall and her head was sent smacking into the steel, again and again and again as the gargantuan tentacles pumped with savage force. Savannah, nearby, was almost unrecognizable under the tangle of omnivirile black tentacles that were shoving up between her breasts, crushing her swells to pump out her precious milk while other enormous members ravaged her from both ends. Her arms were completely encased into thick tangles of arrogant tentacle-cocks that her hands desperately attempted to satisfy, jerking and stroking and pumping each gigantic cockhead in turns. A couple of gigantic tentacles pistoned in and out of Savannah's tight sex and another pair twisted and gyrated and rammed up into her tailhole. The little Desire was effortlessly kept aloft by those four slimy, musky, sweaty appendages that half-wrapped around her little body on their way to her mother's passage.

All around Killer, the goddesses groaned and gargled and slobbered and cried out in bliss as his enormous tentacles swarmed all over them and rammed powerfully into their needy, greedy passages, and the enormous lifer flexed his great muscles and leaned down with a snarling grin, his terrible, forked tongue stretching out and carelessly smashing into the bloody chasm in Sikanjal's face, pushing deep inside her defenceless throat even as her eyes stared up at him in shock and fear. He tasted himself, his own bitter, overwhelming virility inside her, and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, gripping into the back of her skull and bending her body at a painful, terrible angle just as he slammed his godlike tower of flesh all the harder inside her, tearing deeper into not just her but into the beast, a sick crunching sound echoing across the laboratory, coming from inside of her. Her broken legs twitched and spasmed uncontrollably, kicking hard at the air even though they were nearly completely detached from Sikanjal's devastated body, hanging from little more than shreds of stretched, torn muscle and lolling horribly on either side of Killer's gargantuan monster of a cock. What was left of her vagina clenched, all of her muscles contracting and trying to push back against the brutal, massive invader, but it only made Killer grinned wider as he rammed forwards with a snort of hot steam from his nostrils, his muzzle opening wide as he leaned down and bit into her already ruined face, further devastating her features and choking her as his dexterous, thick tongue pushed down her neck, all the way to her stomach.

Gargling cries came out around that thick black tongue even as Killer's fangs ripped deep into the goddess's hideously ruined face, and her body bent horribly under his terrifying strength, her last remaining breast bouncing hard as her entire body was shoved around like a toy, impaled on the end of his monstrous, endless obelisk of hypervirility. Tears rolled down sweaty, bloodied, cheeks caked with dark precum, blood splattered out of her smashed-apart groin... but when she screamed again, there was a sort of pleasure mixed with her agony, and an angry jubilation as she felt him destroying the beast within her. She had made a terrible mistake, and now she was fully aware of it... and her broken, slavishly-obsessed mind was all too glad that Killer himself was taking care of the problem. The fact that he was going to destroy her as well was almost unimportant... no, not unimportant... welcome. She could only let out breathless, choking sounds as his tongue thrust rapidly back and forth and twisted into her throat, but even so her begging resounded almost clearly, easily understood even as it resulted in a messy slobbering around his tongue. "Please... please... please..." Her hips attempted to buck back against the huge male, trying to work together with his monstrous strength as a sick, chilling tearing, squelching sound filled the room and Killer let out a hungry rumble as he felt his titanic godcock rip through the Child, pushing between his broken, crumpled legs and smashing into his groin, crushing the beast's own huge cock back against his body, squishing the monster's fat, ponderous balls until one audibly popped, resulting in a burst of warm fluids and pulp against Killer's gargantuan flare. He growled in dark delight, his body flexing with unfathomable power, burning with ecstasy and a feel of merciless, righteous power that he had rarely known. He could feel the beast's body shatter and crunch into pieces against his adamantine shaft, he could feel his astounding, excessive virility annihilate the Child's own masculinity, punching, ramming his balls into nothing but squirts of blood and ruin. His monstrous godcock dwarfed and squished the beast's own member into nothing but pulped gore, forcing what remained back up into the Child's body as he forcefully smashed a hole into the beast's groin.

The Child howled in anguish and trashed helplessly, but that only made Killer grin wider as he enjoyed the glory of righteous destruction, of revenge, of cruel retribution. The beast's ever-evolving body attempted to heal, to regenerate, to grow, his sinews and flesh and muscle squirming and moving around his enormous girth, giving him pleasure and sensations unlike anything else... and he grinned darkly as he looked down at Sikanjal's belly, easily able to see the monster's upper body growing massive and muscular and powerful, mutating and expanding, while the lower half was just as clearly grotesquely small and deformed, crumpled up around his gigantic cock and unable to heal, unable to resist as Killer rammed his great godcock forwards with savage force, demolishing, destroying, ripping apart. The huge male threw his head back with a growl of dark bliss, whip-lashing his forked tongue out of Sikanjal's broken face and ripping off chunks of her flesh with his fangs, drinking of her howls of anguish and loving the awareness that two lives were there for him to reap, offered, sacrificed to him. He snarled hungrily as his thick black precum, his almighty essence flooded the ruined womb and blasted into the broken body of the Child, burning his flesh, consuming his corruption, eating away at the energy of the crushed, damaged monster inside of Sikanjal. His massive, powerful, cruel sperms gang-raped the beast, tearing into him, pushing into his ass, crawling all over him to brutally invade his mouth, while his thick, mighty essence dissolved him like acid, broke his sinews down into a pulp that worked like nothing but lube around his terrifying girth.

And Killer grinned widely even as the Child howled in fury and trashed inside his mother, Sikanjal's back rippling and then bursting apart as enormous mutant growths ripped out of her, growing into a sort of tremendous arm-wings that slashed viciously up against Killer, against Vera, against the other Disciples.

Dexterous spikes and talons pushed out of the gigantic limbs, but Killer's tentacle-beasts lashed out angrily, their jaws opening wide and dripping pestilence and ruin, tongues like flexible dark-steel spikes, eyes that burned like fire. They clamped their terrible fangs on the mutant "wings", flailing from side to side like crocodiles to tear apart their "prey", ripping off great chunks of dark, mutated meat while their long, muscular bodies twisted violently all around the huge appendages, clamping on them with enough strength to audibly crumble bones. Enormous spikes of metallic bone jutted out of the great tentacles and made mincemeat of everything they touched, piercing deep into the wings and into Sikanjal as they wrapped around her body and half-lifted her off the crater in the floor, savagely crunching her hands between their thick, powerful bodies and grinding them almost into crimson mist as she desperately tried to reach up and catch them, uselessly pushing against their monstrous strength. "Are you challenging me, son...? Do you really think you are the big bad beast here...?" Killer mocked, grinning viciously as his tentacles clamped down on the goddess's enormous belly, sending blood and ichors spraying up in thick splatters as they tightened their hold and crushed even the Child, ripping through her flesh and right into his. One enormous tentacle-cock rammed brutally into the bloody hole where Sikanjal's missing breast had once been, and her ribs shattered audibly and pierced through her flesh, sticking out of her while the massive member thrust brutally across her chest, the bulge moving around in a grotesque display of power and ferocity, before an enormous tentacle-beast snapped its jaws closed upon her remaining breast, nearly ripping it off, before its thick tongue-spike brutally smashed into her fat nipple and pierced deep inside her and beginning to audibly suck up not just her milk but her vital essence. Killer grinned savagely while her large swell shriveled and shrank, drained almost into dust, deflated like a balloon as the tentacle flexed and bulged, thrumming with power as it greedily channeled her energies into Killer. Her entire body began to rapidly shrivel, her muscles deflating, her hide becoming loose and dry, her scales flaking off like dead cells as she was rapidly mummified, her hide reduced almost literally to a condom that clung tightly to the beast inside her and to the massive cock and brutal tentacles ravaging her insides. "You want to challenge me...?" Killer mocked, as more of his tentacles ferociously snapped their jaws shut on her belly and pierced deep inside her with their tongue-tendrils, stabbing all the way into the Child himself, making him trash violently with a cry of fear and agony. "You are just a toy. You are my next drink."

The tentacles throbbed with power and hunger, rapidly draining energy out of the beast and unleashing it inside Killer, who grew larger, even more hulking, more ferocious, more animal, more powerful as he almost leisurely reached down to grab the shredded, bloody dark wings poking out of Sikanjal's back. With merely a flex of his colossal musculature, he ripped both wings right off, crumpling and crushing them into his hands like they were made of paper... and causing them to crumble away to dust and ashes as he completely drained all energy away from them. The Child howled in denial, his hands visibly shoving at the confines of Sikanjal's belly but just as evidently shrinking almost down to the bone, all muscles deflating horribly just as Killer's body bulged with unfathomable, tremendous power. "Your power comes from me, child... and it will always belong to me."

Another mastodon of a tentacle-cock strangled Sikanjal even worse and arched high up into the air, seeming to look down at her with its single, large eye weeping dark, omnipotent masculine essence... and then it rammed down into the gaping chasm in her face, that "mouth" that she could no longer close, no longer control, and her eyes bulged visibly, nearly bursting out of her skull as bone crunched and her neck deformed grotesquely as the godcock rammed down her throat, choking her with the undeniable, glorious taste of his sweat and of his hypervirile cocksludge, both full of unfathomable power. Gurgles and squelches and other obscene sounds came from within her as the tentacle rammed into a body that was already crammed full with nothing but dark, omnipotent Alpha gunk, with absurd amounts of gigantic, excessive sperms as well as with blood and gore and corruption. She couldn't do a thing, she was unable to even dream of opposing him, instead groaning loudly and slavishly even as she was turned into nothing but a toy, a cocksleeve, a thin layer of squishy flesh between the titanic tentacle ramming down her throat and the massive coils of that very same tentacles that clamped down on her neck. Vile mixtures of thick, dark juices erupted up all over her eyes, coating them shut, burning into them, streaking down her cheeks as she rasped broken, tiny breaths between the thick ropes of precum that clogged her insides. She was unable to do anything other than serve him as his fucktoy, his piece of meat, his helpless prey as the tentacles ripping upwards from her obliterate groin and ass easily smashed their ways past the child and rammed into what should have been her stomach and instead was a grotto of ruin crammed ridiculously full of cock. The tentacle ramming down her throat and the others coming up from her ass and pussy and grinding greedily together. Her tears spilled out in rivers as she gaped in utter agony and shock at the sight of those colossal members moving, gyrating, thrusting, grinding hungrily together within her chest, bulging it horrendously out of shape. She gasped breathlessly as the colossal flared cockheads pummeled into her organs, squishing them in a series of obscene, terrifying squelches as she was ravaged by his indescribable power, violated from every angle and more and more ferociously with every passing moment.

Killer grinned darkly as he guessed, more than felt, the weak, hopeless beating of her heat, strangled somewhere in the middle of that tremendous tangle of immense tentacle-cocks. It pulsed against the steel-harder meat of his titanic members, and both Killer and Sikanjal could feel that pathetic little rhythmical flex completely dwarfed by the hot, omnipotent throbbing of his giant members, which swelled larger with every hungry twitch, with every new and enormous load of precum that traveled up his cum channel and exploded into her. Her entire body shuddered and quaked, her mummified hide beginning to tear apart like old parchment, not even blood left to be spilled... only his dark, never-ending loads of excessive hypervirility that gushed out of all wounds, of all openings. Sikanjal and the Child both writhed and shuddered in his grip, helpless despite all of their power, all of their studies, all of their plans, nothing but living puppets good for nothing other than being abused as the giant male felt fit to. Killer laughed darkly as the same tentacles he had used to milk both divinities dry now began to flex and bulge again, this time pumping vile, pestilent filth inside of them. It rapidly filled them all up, making them howl in indescribable anguish as their forms filled up again, but in exchange burned with agonizing, hellish fire unlike anything they had ever experienced or even dreamt of. It was like an injection of Unworld residue, but even worse if that was at all possible. Killer's omnipotent dark essence began to burn them out of existence from the inside, coating even the Child and making him howl in anguish as all his growths, his evolutions, the changes in his body were rapidly and mercilessly burned away to ashes.

His tentacles pumped at a ferocious rhythm, turning his victims into unrecognizable splatters of gore and at the same time unleashing his endless overproduction of omnivirile fluids, their coils constricting and crushing the spectacular bodies strewn all around him, throbbing and sawing back and forth with ruthless force. Killer grinned widely, snarling through gritted fangs and snorting steam from his nostrils as he smashed his hips forwards with brutal force, compressing the Child into a crumpled, broken heap of gore as he struggled to squeeze even just half of that monstrous godcock into her helpless body.

Sikanjal couldn't even shriek, almost couldn't even gargle, not even when she clearly, agonizingly felt her heart crushed into pieces and pulp between the colossal appendages that violated her so hungrily, so mercilessly. She should have been dead for a long while, and even her broken mind realized that... but even death was a comfort beyond her reach. The dark god wanted to enjoy the little game and wanted to savor his revenge, and Death helplessly bowed to his will, cowed by his awesome power. She couldn't go, she couldn't stop feeling every bit of that agony, couldn't stop staring at the ruthless massacre of her own body... And Samara Vera watched it all, trembling in a mix of awe and fear, eyes open wide even as her hands pumped on two great tentacle-cocks whose long, endless coils were tightly wrapped around her breasts and neck. Her thighs helplessly attempted to grind together even as other tentacles gyrated and pistoned savagely up her sex and her tight asshole, their shapes bulging clearly out of her abdomen as they slammed in and out of her, flexing and grinding and whip-lashing in ways that made her cry in pain and pure bliss. She couldn't speak around the girthy black member that was thrusting down her throat, but her lips kept silently moving, wording praises and awe and fear as her hips bucked wildly and kept spilling out her hot, pearly, eager nectar. She had long lost count of how many orgasms he had drilled out of her, her groin dripping without pause, leaking blood and sloppily gushing forth with enormous amounts of his omnipotent fluids as they overflowed out of her. She had even pissed herself one or two times while her body trembled completely out of control as she panted in a mix of terror and undeniable, incredible arousal, her eyes bulging as she watched the unholy titan put the whore goddess, the demon-mother to use, staring at him as he unleashed his darkness, as he truly reveled in his power, as he claimed and ruined them all utterly, completely, without hope of escape. His massive, muscular form seemed to loom over them all, feeling incredibly greater and stronger even though the Disciples had all grown up, expanding their own bodies in tune with him... and the whole laboratory space was deformed, punched out of shape, his body ripping several decks beyond, pushing deep into the bowels of the Sentence and making it look like he could soon outgrow the confines of the immense submarine. He certainly would if he so much as squatted slightly up... but that only made it all better, only made Vera growl with even greater delight and hunger as she reached downwards, clutching hard into the tentacles in her hands as she pushed them into her bulging, overfilled belly, over her abs, her breasts, her spectacular muscular thighs as she imagined him taking her, collaring her, marking her with tattoos that were not just drawings, but literally new parts of her body, seared indelibly into her very flesh.

And Killer grinned down at her, reading into her mind, their thoughts connected and shared, glorious in how they depicted her bloody and blissful, abused and pregnant, collared and tattooed, powerful but fucked into such exhaustion that she could barely keep herself from collapsing.

And Sikanjal shrieked uselessly around the tentacle buried down her jaws, eyes almost bursting out of her sockets as her spine bent in a terrible, unnatural, tormenting way as the godbeast thrust forwards once more and rumbled in his chest as the massive tower of black meat visibly and audibly, loudly ripped through the Child and smashed up into her chest, surrounded by the massive tentacles that ground teasingly into its sides, half-wrapping around it.

Sikanjal's deformed, grotesquely-bulging belly finally exploded, utterly blown apart by the fearsome length of the lifer's monstrous godcock: it obliterated her last breast, ripping completely through her and emerging in a great splatter of blood and gore as it pulverized her guts and her organs and much of the Child's own body, impaling right through him. Samara gasped in shock and awe as the thick splatter of blood and gore splashed across her body, panting her fur crimson, her hips bucking wildly and back arching as she let out a primal roar of delight and triumph, knowing that her own moment was close now and staring as more and more and more of that colossal obelisk of omnivirility ripped out of Sikanjal's ruined, devastated pelt. The glorious, terrifying cock towered in front of her, a monument of masculinity, a true totem of godhood, completely drenched in blood and gore and ruin and scum and ichors ad literal pieces of the mutant beast that Sikanjal had been carrying. "A foregone conclusion..." Killer hungrily said, licking his thick muzzle and looking down at that terrifying display, meeting Sikanjal's shocked eyes and mocking: "Too weak for me... frail and tight... cute, but ultimately pathetic. A useless one-shot toy."

The Child gasped breathlessly, two deformed, maimed limbs attempting to claw into the gigantic cock but only making Killer murr in dark pleasure as the monstrous creature was partially revealed: his head was almost one with his fleshy, muscular but deformed neck, which jutted with countless broken chunks of bone. His features were grotesquely ruined, half of his face in particular literally punched inwards and out of all proportions... and Killer grinned, hissing in cruel delight at the awareness that it was all because his glorious godcock had smashed him into bits, broken his spine and his skull in more points than he could count, compressed his regenerating organism into a messy, shapeless chunk of meat and bones growing erratically and then shattered in countless different ways and angles. His head had been shoved out of the way like an unimportant thing, and now it emerged from a grotesquely massive shoulder, muscular and powerful but also broken and tormented by the shattered stumps of at least three arms that had attempted to take shape and grow, only to be crushed, maimed, bent at absurd angles and broken into ugly, disproportionate appendages that sizzled and smoldered as Killer's omnipotent black precum burned into them. Killer's monstrous shaft flexed hungrily, thrumming with power and causing that hideous body to creak and groan as it was stretched taunt by the god's terrifying girth. The Child hissed and growled terrible threats, but they only served to make him look ridiculous as they came out as slobbering, bubbling squelches of blood, gore, drool and omnipotent dark precum as his jaws were locked open by the brutal girth of the tentacle-cock that was savaging his throat. Killer laughed at that, punching that very tentacle deeper, thrusting harder, rougher, smacking the Child's head this way and that as the enormous member slammed home like a fist on a punching-ball, while the glorious dark god sat back on his haunches and idly looked down at the two devastated bodies impaled on his gargantuan godcock, smirking in entertainment in front of their agony. His prodigious girth had smashed his way not just through her womb, her guts, her whole body, but right through the Child's own form, crushing his legs up into his body and smashing a terrifying bloody chasm in his groin, obliterating his malehood completely. The almighty shaft had punched its way up through the Beast's body, blowing his chest out of all proportions and then ramming its way through the original neck and head, pulverizing both, and now countless feet of almighty dark tower of flesh stood proudly out of a bloody, ruined crater between the creature's shoulder. "Kiss my cock, bitch, and be grateful for the honor." Killer easily commanded, smirking in cruel entertainment as he fearlessly seized the Child's hideous skull-like head and forced it against the side of his titanic member, grinding it roughly into the veiny, tough black meat. The mutant creature howled in fury and spluttered and snapped his jaws closed upon the great tentacle ravaging his throat, but it was way too thick for his maws to be able to apply any significant strength... and the flesh so incredibly hard and tough that his fangs had the worst of the engagement, creaking audibly. Killer grinned mockingly at that, forcing the Child's face all the harder against the ruinous behemoth of a cock and mocking: "Harder, bitch! I won't feel your kisses if you can't put some strength into them!" The dark god laughed as he seized his towering cock in his other hand and began to roughly jerk off, stroking his immense shaft and carelessly punching the Child's skull into a deformed wreck at the end of every long backstroke, laughing as blood splattered thickly up to act as lube on his fearsome malehood, before he snarled-laughed and yanked the beast's head hard forwards, nearly breaking the creature in half as he forced him into such a position to be able to see how much more of that monstrous black member hadn't even pushed inside of Sikanjal yet. The eyes of the Child bulged in shock at the sight of that colossal, impossibly massive cock, less than half of which had penetrated into Sikanjal. The thick, terrifying base was still far away from the bloody ruin of her groin and the male's enormous medial ring was more threatening than apocalypse itself. "You thought you could compete with your own father...?" Killer teasingly asked, his voice soft and yet thundering, coming in a rumble from his broad, masculine chest, deep-balled and imposing, terrifying as it came along with the sight of his great musculature flexing, bulging, thrumming with unfathomable power with even the slightest of movements. "I'm not even fully hard yet, bitches... you aren't even good enough to get me fully in the mood." Killer mocked, and the Child couldn't help but let out an agonizing cry as the black, omnipotent cocksludge continued to burn into him, consuming his mutant flesh faster than it could regenerate and evolve.

The monstrous, titanic tentacle-cocks mercilessly thrust down his blown-apart jaws, up his ass, directly into the bloody devastation of his torn-apart chest. They twisted, gyrated, whip-lashed and pistoned with savage force and endless hunger, sending splatters of blood and pulped gore flying across the entire laboratory as they ripped muscle and flesh apart and viciously rammed through the strewn guts and ruined weird organs of the two victims that helplessly quaked and spasmed beneath him. They all ground hungrily, eagerly against the dark god's immense shaft as it flexed and throbbed with power, his own tentacles wrapping around his formidable, monstrous girth and pumping it, stroking it, smearing the blood and ruin of his victims all over the colossal cock and lubricating it with the thick, hyperpotent sludge that they oozed endlessly, sweating pure, tar-thick virility and power through their muscular bodies.

The goddesses around Killer crawled towards that obscene display of power and cruelty, clawing into the floor and grabbing at his muscular arms and legs as they rolled over and struggled against the tentacles that relentlessly fucked them from all angles. Their hands reached towards his immense, blood-soaked shaft even as countless tentacles insistently ground into them and pushed against their fingers, each one commanding worship, demanding veneration, slapping into their bodies in clear impatience with their inability to keep up, to serve them all... and Sikanjal let out a breathless howl of anguish and masochistic arousal as Mriya and Elaine finally managed to dig their hands inside her, grabbing broken, shredded pieces of her guts and smearing them all the harder against Killer's thrusting, unstoppable, invincible black cock. Mouths, tongues, hands, they came from all sides to worship the liger's omnipotent member and to dig into the two dying, destroyed divinities, cruelly clawing into broken insides and yanking them out, strewing pieces of gore in a macabre display, bringing up handfuls of the stuff to their mouths or smearing it all over their breasts, panting themselves crimson for his pleasure.

And in the middle of that unholy tangle of bodies and guts, Killer continued to piston his hips with unrelenting, impossible, ever increasing strength: his monstrous black cock rammed up through both impaled bodies, hefting their broken remains off the ground like they had no weight at all, and Killer savagely buried more and more of his prodigious length through them, viciously grabbing Sikanjal's deformed head and yanking it forwards just so he could thrust against her features, against her last remaining breast as it swelled larger and larger, filling up with the corruption, the filth and the sheer, impossible hypervirile gunk that his tentacles pumped ceaselessly into it. The shreds of her stomach and intestines hang uselessly from his immense cock, some pulped ropes of guts tangled up all around his deadly, huge flare, stuck on his cruel barbs like a macabre decoration, and what was left of her body shook uncontrollably, broken beyond all hopes.

Gurgles and obscene choking sounds came from her, but they were mostly due not to her but to the sheer ferocity of the tentacles and the cock filling her empty, broken shell: she couldn't even cry anymore, but her cheeks were entirely caked in thick streaks of black precum and cocksludge which pushed out of her with such pressure, such arrogance that it was pushing her eyes visibly out of their sockets, and turning her ears into deep craters as the dense gunk smashed its way out through them.

Vera growled in savage, shocked pleasure as she stared in a mix of horror and delight at those enormous tentacles still pumping, still working, still brutalizing Child and Mother, cruelly thrusting into what little remained of them, punching their insides into chunky liquid and grinding along the mountainous flanks of the great godcock that thrust through the whore's devastated form and towered out of her in terrible, monstrous glory. And as if all that wasn't enough, she could just as easily see the fat tentacles that punched down the two victims' throats, staring as they flexed and throbbed and pumped unholy floods of hypervirility out in an endless display of excessive, overwhelming power, while burying themselves deep enough to grind into their siblings coming up from below, and to wrap their massive coils around the monstrous member of the liger.

She crawled forwards, looking up in awe at that incredible obelisk of masculine power, and she snarled against Mriya, Elaine and the others, grappling with them and shoving them away from the black monster, claiming her turn. Killer grinned widely at that, rumbling in hunger and flexing as the two tentacles already buried in her dripping sex suddenly whip-lashed in the opposite directions and spread her poor black labia savagely wide, pulling her passage wide open. The tentacles coiled around her body effortlessly hefted her off the ground and splayed her muscular legs open as far as they would go, making her grunt as her pelvis creaked. She was pulled up like a toy, the other tentacles forcing her muscular arms to spread wide as well as she was angled up so that Killer could gaze down into the darkness of her wide-open passage, nostrils flaring as he savored the scent of her need. "Do it, God Daddy! Do it! Please, take me! Fuck me! Collar me! Take me!" Samara begged as soon as the tentacle buried down her throat tore out of her to allow her to do exactly that. Killer's eyes burned with lust as she prayed him, her voice hoarse and needy and commanding, almost savage, coming out of her throat in a loud rasp caused by the unholy ocean of dark precum clogging up her airways. And without hesitation, he idly pushed his cock down a little, angling it just so he could slam the bloodstained flared head against her little passage, letting her feel the true immensity of his member as his flare made a mockery of her wide-open entrance, covering it all with ease, forcing even her thighs further apart. Samara trembled in a mix of terror and eagerness, nodding her head almost desperately and gritting her teeth as she again begged: "Do it, daddy!"

And Killer complied, greedily seizing into her hips, clawing into them and drawing blood as his fingers pierced deep almost to the bone. He yanked her towards him just as he rammed forwards, and the enormous flare pushed her whole body up for a moment, crushing against her pelvis with all its brutal strength and immensity, but his shaft was harder than steel and did not bend, did not relent until blood sprayed out of her passage as it tore open beyond all sanity, her poor labia sealing around his fearsome girth with such tightness to be almost literally airtight, causing a wet, loud, obscene squelch and a series of "pussy-farts" that made him grin as he jerked his monster back and forth ever so slightly, reshaping her for his unmatched cock, bulldozing her passage wide open for his colossal flare. Samara howled in pain and ecstasy, her back arching almost to breaking point as that monstrous cockhead buried into her and already caused her pelvis to crack and her abdomen to bulge out of shape, deformed by his ludicrous immensity. Her hips bucked helplessly as her passage flexed and clamped uselessly around a girth so great that she was powerless against: her poor pussy at once desperately tried to suck him in while even more desperately flexing to try and reject that oversized, overpowering invader. She gritted her fangs and shrieked in awe and triumph as she felt the first enormous blast of precum firing with cannon-like force up inside her, visibly swelling her belly as it filled up her womb and rushed back out of her, overflowing around his tremendous shaft and squirting out in thin but amazingly powerful jets, the pressure simply unbelievable.

"Holy FUCK!" She breathlessly shouted, drool flying from her jaws as she threw her head back, then shook it from side to side, her muscular body trembling violently, her legs kicking uselessly at the air, and she hugged herself as best she should, even though her hands did not dare letting go of the fat tentacles she was clutching to, pumping them hungrily, moaning as they coated her in thick splatters of dark precum.

Her poor cervix was bulldozed into bits just to let his fat, monstrous cockhead enter, and her womb bulged out against her arms as he thrust forwards again, his hands moving up her hips and seizing into her large, beautiful breasts instead as he threw his head back and roared in delight, savoring the sensations of having three bodies impaled at once on his glorious member. He slammed forwards again, burying himself deeper inside her, and his medial ring in turn smashed into Sikanjal's already devastated groin, making her rasp out in despair and anguish, her remains helplessly twitching, her hips bucking weakly as a gurgle came from her throat, blood and black gunk hiding her tears as even her skull visibly bulged grotesquely out of shape, and a first eyeball disgustingly popped out of place, forced out by a dense gush of masculine waste. Sikanjal and the Child could only choke on their own gore as the tentacles and the immense cock flexed and pumped more and more and more into their ruined bodies, causing slimy dark essence to gush out of their every hole and wound.

Sikanjal's breast swelled grotesquely as the male's tentacles filled it up with endless amounts of ruinous filth that made them sizzle and smolder as her scales peeled off and her flesh darkened and filled with pestilent infection, with disgusting, unstoppable life. The already large swell grew so much that it nearly tore off her body under its own weight, but it only served to give Killer something warm and soft to thrust up against, the huge male letting out a mocking rumble and thrusting forwards with brutal force, burying himself deeper inside Vera and bending over her, covering all of them with his hulking, omnipotent form as he locked his lips with the doberman's, invading her throat with his thick tongue.

A horrible squelching and rending and crunching sound echoed across the entire submarine as his monstrous medial ring brutally tore inside Sikanjal, utterly obliterating her lower body, then the one of the Child, the god's thrusts too powerful, too hard, too violent for their mutant bodies to withstand, and what was left of her legs finally came undone, flesh tearing apart, all bones crumbled into dust. They collapsed uselessly onto the floor with a meaty thud, yanking down much of her disintegrated torso as well, and crushed ropes of intestine flopped onto the lake of blood, gore and toxic, omnipotent precum that was corroding and consuming even the steel floor, causing even the cold metal to rot and decay, to fester with pestilent evolution while the walls that the RA had so fatigued to build flaked away to nothing. The Child's devastated groin came into full view as his mother's form spilled down in pieces and pulped gore, splashing onto the ground in a sick waterfall of crimson and black, the pulp smearing all over the relentlessly-pistoning cock. The dark god only snorted in contempt at the weakness of the demonic-goddess, and his tentacles squeezed down on her with even greater ferocity, crushing her like a wet rag, careless of the terrifying mix of pestilent life and unstoppable hypervirility that exploded and vomited out of her swollen breast and out of her ruined body in general, making a mockery of her existence as they recklessly manhandled her wreck while he rammed up through her gaping belly, grinning and drooling bestially all over them as he pistoned his cock between her grotesque breast and the Child's skull, and far past both, all the way up into Samara's passage as it flexed and clenched helplessly, constantly rewarding him with hot deluges of pearly nectar.

Killer growled in delight, his eyes blazing with cruel lust as he clawed into the cratered, deformed floor, ripping through steel like it was nothing but wet sand. He barely managed to restrain himself, his excessive power, his body thrumming with brutal strength and radiating terrifying energy as his muscles flexed, bulged, and relaxed without losing mass. He was growing stronger, more terrible, more devastating with every passing moment, so massive that even on all fours as he was, he couldn't even pull up his head without ripping through the outer hull of the Sentence. Entire decks of the submarine had been crumpled flat already, pushed out of place and shape by his broad, massive back, but thankfully, as they had determined, most of the Sentence's decks were full of nothing but those little cemetery-like rows upon rows of "bunks" for mind-controlled soldiers. Even so, alarms were blaring through the whole submarine, and the steel structures around them groaned audibly, as if begging for mercy whenever Killer's body shifted ever so slightly and his muscles demanded even more space. The interphones buzzed, then Galen's voice came into the devastated, deformed grotto sloshing with incandescent seas of black precum: "Father, I must remember you that the submarine is nowhere near as tough as you are, and it will sink like a stone if you keep adding weight. And you are going to smash right through the hull if you keep it up."

Killer snorted in entertainment at that, grinning as he rammed forwards another ferocious thrust and yanked Sikanjal's and the Child's bodies down towards him, ripping deeper through the both of them even as the Child's body continued to mutate and it clamped on the gigantic black shaft with savage force, attempting to stab into it with a multitude of poisoned thorns.

Killer rumbled in his chest at that, his immense cock flexing hungrily and forcing the Child's form to groan audibly and rip apart even further. The liger's titanic black shaft swelled even larger, stiffening even further as he grew hard and terrible, all veins pushing out in amazing definition, pulsing and looking like great cables as the colossal member suddenly jutted with great, cruel ridges that made even the mutant monster howl in agony and shock. Killer's hands crushed savagely down on the filthy-overfilled breast of the agonizing goddess, and the other clamped hard on the Child's skull, squeezing it and twisting it painfully around so the monster was forced to look up into the liger's cold, cruelly-delighted eyes.

Skull and grotesque breast bounced with every hard thrust of that humongous godcock ramming up between them, the ridges savagely ripping into both and causing blood and dark sludge to spurt out of them. The Child vomited helplessly, trembling hard in a mix of agony and disbelieving, powerless fury as the filthy black monster-cock rammed mercilessly through his body and smacked and ground viciously into his face, lubricated by his blood and by the pulped remains of his organs. The colossal cock endlessly erupted its own vile, omnipotent Alpha waste, sending enormous loads of dark, hypervirile essence arching through the air for awesome, unbelievable distances. Killer's excessive, overpowering production sloshed around them all, a sea, an ocean of dark precum full of impossible amounts of gargantuan sperms that swam impatiently all around, looking like sharks, acting like savage predators that waited for nothing but an opportunity to consume some of the remains that spilled out of Killer's jaws.

"F-father... stop it...!" The Child uselessly attempted to snarl, but his face was buried under a wet, sick cascade of shredded, pulped guts that spiked out of Sikanjal in a broken fall, a macabre display that splattered blood and ichors across the thrusting cock, only gaining a snort of contempt from the great dark god. His tentacles crushed on both broken bodies and on the moaning goddesses all around him, and the beast snarled in merciless delight, his cock still growing and bulging, tearing through organs and muscles like paper, reducing their innards to nothing but hot jelly that splattered and spurted out of their overstretched holes and devastated bodies, squirting out with every savage piston of his monstrous member. His muscles bulged as his towering, endless cock continued to harden inside of them, pulsing and growing larger moment after moment, swelling even as it buried deeper inside Vera, making her howl in a mix of pain and triumphant ecstasy as she felt her father's glorious, terrifying hypervirility filling her up, his hot precum and his Alpha adding to the hot lube of blood and pulp, helping him thrust his wrecking ram of a cock through three bodies at once.

Sikanjal rasped in shock, breathless and devastated, broken and exhausted, and she could only gurgle out a useless shriek as the tentacles savaged her with even greater strength and ferocity, her eyes bulging as they stared up at him in horror and adoration, in fear and love: he was the nightmarish, apocalyptic force that ruled the universes and she was nothing but a toy in his grip... and now, she realized, that was how things had to be. That was what she and everyone else had been born to be: toys for him. Cheap meat for him to devour and abuse and toy with. Uncountable tentacles slammed in and out of her while others carelessly groped, squeezed and ripped at her body, savagely shredding off chunks of her rotting, corrupted flesh and turning her bones into nothing but crumbles. They ground into her, and she let out a gargling howl as new ones dived brutally down on her, grinding into her and greedily smashing their way into whatever hole they could find, turning the gaping chasm in her chest and abdomen into their bleeding "vagina" to ruin...and as another tried to do the impossible and push past its sibling to bury down her throat, her head gruesomely burst apart with a last obscene gurgle, her last eye popping at the same time as it was pushed out of its socket by the deluge of dark precum that exploded out of her... and as if all that wasn't enough, enormous, powerful tentacles punched down into her eye-sockets, abruptly bulldozing their ways into her skull, the bone instantaneously shattering and caving in with a great, terrible explosion of blood and brain matter and, above all else, black precum that festered with unfathomable, excessive hypervirility, coming out almost solid with the terrifying amount of gigantic, tangled sperms that filled the hot gunk. The tentacles ripped through her skull with rough, cruel force, making it explode into red mist as they stretched longer, larger, growing more powerful still and pushing forwards to grind over Samara's own bulging body, smearing brain matter all over her as the Doberman howled in ecstasy around the thrusting tentacle buried in her throat, her hands doing their best to welcome those mighty appendages even though she didn't let go of the ones she was already jerking and stroking and teasing, her fingers thrusting down vast, hungry cockmaws that constantly leaked fearsome amounts of sloppy, unholy black precum.

Killer grinned with ferocious delight, thrusting his mighty godcock up into Vera and snarling ruthlessly, panting like a feral animal as his muscles bulged with unmatched power as he ravaged the corpse's unrecognizable, mutant remains. Sikanjal's ruined form fell still with a raspy, obscene squelching sound, her life literally crushed and aborted from her body by the tower of godcock that had impaled through her, and the Child himself, reduced to a broke sleeve of mutant muscle and shattered bones, looked up in terror and awe, shaking violently, eyes staring helplessly through the last bloody remains of his mother before the monstrous dark God reached down and simply snuffed the beast's head out like a cigarette beneath his thumb, idly crushing it against the side of his gigantic cock.

The Child's horrendously mutated form gave one helpless, violent twitch at that, just as Killer slowly twisted his thumb on the spot, smearing gore all over one bulging vein of his titanic shaft... and the ever-evolving genetics in his body turned into nothing but a tormenting condemnation as a new head began to painfully take shape out of a pump of broken bones and shredded muscle that had once been a shoulder, destroyed and rebuilt countless times over. Eyes snapped open in the middle of that horror, and they stared up at Killer in anguish, silently begging for it all to end... and the massive liger only grinned, idly flexing his monstrous body, showing off his tremendous omnipotence and his utter superiority, the tyrant mocking his unwanted son by continuing to effortlessly ram home fast, powerful thrusts that made Samara howl in pain and delight. "I guess I just don't know how to control myself..." Killer said, smirking as he seized the new, deformed and horrible "head" in one huge hand and idly pushed his bloodstained thumb over one of the two large, ugly eyes. The Child trembled hard, even as his devastated body uselessly attempted to resist, to fight back, growing segmented tentacles that snapped closed on Killer's fingers only to be idly slapped into pieces as the liger's gigantic cock flexed, and the mutant's deformed cocksleeve-of-a-body ripped apart with an horrific squelch and rending, oceans of dark corruption and immense sperms blasting out through the wound and punching it open wider as Killer grinned and his cock tore out of the remains of the Child, sending chunks of flesh and viscera hailing in all directions. Killer's thumb crushed the eye into pulp and effortlessly crumpled the new skull, just reformed, but he purposefully spared the other eye just so the Child could stare as that glorious, behemoth godcock jumped up with arrogant, incredible vigor and bisected his corpse with terrifying ease. As soon as that mighty flex ended, the mammoth cock's own monstrous weight dragged it back down, and it slammed savagely over the broken remains, squishing them into nothing but gory pulp.

The Child had enough time to shriek silently in his mind, his half-formed head flopping down into a lake of incandescent, ruinous precum and disgusting gore, discarded and no doubt purposefully "missed" by the falling goliath cock, which smashed down into the already deformed floor with the force of apocalypse itself, forcing the Sentence's decks to cave in under its terrifying mass as Killer leaned forwards and thrust mocking over the steel, crumpling it like paper and crunching, crushing, squishing the pieces of corpse under his cock, grinding it all down into nothing but bloody putty and chunky lube. The Child could only stare and howl in anguish, his deformed head somehow still clinging on to life just to make him suffer, just to force him to admire his Father's glorious, monstrous strength as it annihilated him, like it was nothing, like his godlike, mutant body was made out of melting butter. The behemoth cock steamrolled the remains, bones dissolving into dust, organs bursting apart into pulp, muscle shredding, blood spraying out in disgusting eruptions... and Killer greedily reached down to grip into that pulp, rumbling as he seized the terrifying girth of his cock and stroked that bloody mess along his filthy godcock, idly thrusting that apocalyptic monument of ruin into his own ferocious grip.

The Child's head began to literally melt away to nothing, consumed by the ruinous, toxic precum of the titan, and he could only shiver in awe, in terrified admiration of his Father as Killer threw his head back with a grin and rumbled: "I am the Monster, little one. There is no competing with me. No one can stand before me. But thanks for this little power boost..."

The Child shivered, realizing that his energies, all the potential that had been inside his body, was now flowing back into Killer, consumed, absorbed, greedily devoured by the colossal male. Killer laughed from his position on all fours, hands roughly groping the breasts of Mriya and Elaine, pinning them roughly down, one on either side of him, while his monstrous, endless godhood stretched out before him, glorious and immense, throbbing with power and dripping with the pathetic remains of his latest victims and whatever was left of the literal worlds he had earlier snuffed out of existence, as well as with torrents of Samara's hot, eager juices. And the Child shrieked in his mind, unable to tear his eyes away as Killer's body flexed and bulged, growing even larger, even more glorious and horrific and powerful, even more pestilent with ever-evolving, insatiable life, his muscles thrumming with terrifying vigor as he crushed roughly down on his daughters, his tentacles ravaging them all, his thick muzzle greedily half-biting, half-kissing into stretched-out, ruined, tentacle-filled pussies that cried out in adoration and pleasure for him, as his tentacle-cocks so easily hefted the goddesses up, one by one, spinning them upside down and yanking their legs open wide to offer him their incandescent centers and the hot nectar they leaked. The Child shrieked helplessly, his mind pounding with the awareness of what that sight meant: that this was only the barest hint of what the dark god was capable of. He had only been given a taste of what Killer had in store for the universes he would soon lord upon, invincible and unrivalled... and then Sekhmeth let go of a fat, powerful tentacle-cock only for long enough to blindly reach over to seize the discarded, mutated head. The goddess of destruction easily brought it up and studied it idly for a second, her eyes glowing with cruel entertainment at the sight of the broken skull still attempting to regenerate and mutate and grow into a new, fully-formed body... only to be burned down into smoldering dark gunk by the great amounts of toxic precum coating him. She grinned, at least as much as she could while her muzzle was so savagely stretched out by girthy tentacles ramming down her throat, and then she reached up for Killer's behemoth cock, smacking the melting head into the flank of the behemoth shaft and crushing it there, smearing the bloody gunk in a long crimson stain that was quickly cancelled by the dark, hyperpotent cocksludge endlessly oozing out of the goliath member.

Samara threw her head back with a moan of bliss, eyes flashing with adoration and lust as Killer leaned down on her, his thick muzzle dripping with blood, gore, his drool and the juices of Gaia, who he had just greedily tasted and suckled. He was massive, gigantic, filling up seemingly every last inch of space in that cavernous room, and she instinctively shrunk a bit, curling up in the tangle of his tentacles, pushing her feet down their thick, muscular bodies, feeling them slipping easily over the endless amounts of slick dark precum and sticky sludge. Her head was filled with the sound of his cocks ripping in and out of her, her eyes were filled either with his looming, glorious body or, whenever she looked down, with the astounding sight of more than half of his behemoth cock still unhilted, sticking out of her even as her whole body already bulged obscenely, filled up with him. The sloshing sea of crimson and black around them literally boiled from the heat of their hot, rough sex, and she drooled and slobbered helplessly, doing her best to suck and lick the tentacle buried into her jaws. Tears ran from her eyes from the punishing abuse, but she loved every single moment of it, loved him snarling and sweating like an animal above her, loved the way the steel groaned beneath them as his thrusts caused her body to sink deeper through the Sentence's decks, loved being treated like nothing but a toy, cherishing the abuse, craving for more, craving for this to be her future, dreaming of following him as he rightfully bent the universes over and reshaped them in his image... and she loved him more than she ever had before, feeling her need for him only growing with every hard thrust, feeling that this was the reason why she had been born in the first place...

And she began to remember the past, too, experiencing flashes of her childhood, images of her mother Vanessa riding that titanic obelisk of a cock. Memories of Vanessa grinning towards the cameras while she sucked and slobbered all over that behemoth shaft, snarling to the helpless, shocked public on the other side of the screen that they were all doomed, all useless, all pathetic in front of that ultimate, omnipotent Male... and her hips bucked, a moan coming from her throat as she grinned inwardly at that, knowing that they were going to have entire universes to play with, no longer "just" millions of cuckolds and paypigs on the internet... And Killer grinned widely as well, rumbling in his chest as they acted out their deepest, darkest desires, sharing it all, without restraint or shame.

Again and again he pistoned in and out of her, bulldozing his way deeper inside her muscular body, reshaping her for his murderous girth as her back arched and her breasts bounced vigorously on her muscular chest, her legs kicking uselessly at the air as she spasmed and groaned when he greedily, territorially dug his claws into her hips, ramming forwards even harder and leaning further over her, roughly forcing her legs to spread even wider.

One tentacle strangled her, crushing on her throat with enough force to turn a whole group of mortals into nothing but crimson mist, but it only made her shiver in delight even as it bruised her, even as it threatened to rip her head right off, even as he did that purely out of greed, to enhance his own pleasure as his tentacle buried down her throat was massaged, squeezed, pumped, surrounded by an almost savage tightness.

Her eyes bulged as other massive tentacles tore their way upwards inside her, grinding and twisting around his monstrous godcock, slamming all the way up into her helpless womb and up her ass, all the way up to thrust into her guts, making her cry out loudly, hips bucking with desperate need and agonizing ecstasy as their massive bodies punched bulges in her already enormously-overfilled belly, their every movement showing clearly through her flesh as her formidable abs were stretched out and distended until they were almost invisible. Other great coils of solid maleness rubbed slowly over her belly from the outside, wrapped all around her, pushing teasingly over her features, grinding into her large, prodigious breasts, while others forced her limbs to spread insanely wide before arching up to loom over her, leaking thick black essence and arrogantly demanding worship, forcing her hands to go from one to the other, again and again and again, milking huge blasts of dark precum out of them. She gagged loudly on the tentacle that was ramming down her throat, slobbering uncontrollably as it filled up her stomach, half-curling up inside the bulging organ... before it pushed roughly downwards and half-wrapped around Killer's titanic flare, moving rapidly around the monstrous girth, teasing his cock and making him growl hungrily, thrusting forwards into that great embrace of flesh, crushing the wall of her battered stomach in the middle. Blood sprayed out of her vagina as his monstrous girth bulldozed its way through any and all resistances, her walls first stretching out, then ripping as more and more enormous cock buried inside her. She could feel his gargantuan sperms moving inside her, brutally pushing far beyond her womb, all but smashing their ways towards her tubes, towards the factories of little, delicious and defenseless eggs that they greedily devoured.

Her head shook back and forth, going from side to side in shock, pain and incredible, lustful pleasure. Her legs kicked wildly at the air, her whole body spasming out of control as her muscles flexed and her sex clenched, hard, hot juices rushing out of her as her passage nearly ripped itself apart with the intensity of her orgasm. Her passage flexed and clenched with enough strength to make Killer rumble in delight. He slowed down his thrusts but put extra power in each of them, majestically shoving right through her clenching, his brute force allowing him to continue relentlessly fucking her passage even as it flexed hard, at once milking him for all he was worth and trying to shove the gigantic invader back out. He gave her no relief, however, continuing to stretch her vagina insanely wide as he powerfully buried his immensity even deeper inside her. Her eyes bulged as she felt her body swelling, forced out of shape by the sheer amount of cock that was ramming inside her, feeling his presence pressing against every part of her body, both outside and inside.

Her eyes glowed with lust and with incredible, divine energy even as her body writhed and her feet kicked uselessly at the air, and Mriya, Elaine, Gaia, Sekhmeth, Boadicea and all the others crawled forwards to curl up around her, grinding into her sides, half-hugging her arms as his tentacles swarmed over them all, pistoning powerfully in and out of all of their holes, savagely assaulting them from all angles at once. They could feel him growing, becoming even greater and even stronger, muscles bulging as he growled and leaned down over them with possessive love, trapping them under his great form and letting them wonder at the strength and size of his musculature while they groaned in a mix of delight and pain as the tentacles within them grew even faster than the rest of him, their already massive girths stretching them all out of shape with the sheer amount of liger meat crammed them full.

His enormous, powerful arms walled them all in, making them feel small and vulnerable and oh-so-happy to be there, curled up in his great shadow, breathing nothing but his musk, basking in his thick dark load, pushing one into the other as his great tentacles effortlessly hefted them off the ground to pull them all up against his muscular, enormous chest as he teasingly flexed, lustfully growling: "All mine. You are all mine."

He spoke to all of them, but to Samara in particular, and her eyes glowed solid emerald as she eagerly nodded and flexed, arching her back and bucking back against him as best she could. He rhythm was broken, her jerks forceful but tiny because she couldn't quite move in the middle of that huge tangle of bodies and appendages... and they all felt the heat burning inside of her. The heat of her ecstasy but, soon, the heat of her Father's glorious energies as well. She began to grow, very clearly, becoming taller and at the same time more muscular, her already spectacular tone becoming even more perfect, her musculature chiseled with artistic perfection in a smooth, armor-like hide that made her feel invulnerable... even though she kept bleeding copiously around his terrifying girth as he began to piston viciously upwards into her, his monstrous shaft tearing again and again and again inside her form, brutally pounding into her depths as the tentacles twisted, thrust, ground against every inch of her, their awesome dexterity and terrible flexibility allowing them to tease every last inch of her insides. She gargled and slobbered loudly around the behemoth tentacle buried down her jaws, but she still did her best to scream past it and howl all her ecstasy and need and pain and love. She couldn't even breathe, completely crammed full of him, to the very last millimeter, as endless amounts of his thick, hyperpotent essence sloshed around the thrusting mega-cocks. She could only bounce, slammed around like a doll by every hard, fast piston of her father's mastodon cock, and the only cries she could produce were wet, obscene squelches and slobbers of precum and drool bursting out of her lips and nostrils, while he grinned viciously down at her and used her body like a toy. Her hips bucked in welcome, however, her muscles flexing as she did her best to meet his powerful shoves even as his rhythm became savage, his colossal balls swinging heavily back and forth and smacking into the goddesses piled up beneath him, bruising firm buttocks and smashing into worshipful faces with great, wet, obscene slaps. Blood leaked and cascades from both of her holes and also out of her mouth and nostrils, and even her ears. Her eyes bulged in shock and pain, but she was also burning with a horrendous, incredible pleasure that she couldn't resist to, that only made her want more and worse.

She adored every instant of it, every cracking bone, every squelch of blood, loving the feel of being used savagely by her father as his tentacles tore all the way through her form, the one buried down her jaws latching together with those which had impaled her from below. Her eyes bulged as her entire form burned with pleasure, and Killer snarled like a beast above her, eyes burning with lust as she helplessly pushed up as best she could to feel the powerful muscles covering his body flex and move.

His energies flooded her, thicker and more overwhelming still than his dense, hyperpotent precum, and the other goddesses smirked knowingly as light erupted through her hide, fire seeming to explode out of her as it rapidly seared an image on her massive, muscular shoulder. On the left, the "winged beast", the symbol of Killer and of his eternal contrast between Good and Evil, etched itself into her flesh, glowing as if literally drawn by lines of fire. On the right shoulder, in much the same fashion, her personal symbol began to emerge: a great feral lion head, majestic and powerful.

She groaned as he hungrily clawed into her large breasts, squeezing into them hard enough to draw droplets of blood, making her hiss in delight at the hunger he demonstrated for her. He loved her, carnally as well as spiritually. He craved her, and he was turned on by her body, and that filled her with pride, and a sort of true bliss, something pure and deep and unmatched. She wanted to be with him. She wanted him to always look at her like that. She wanted him to always show that hunger, that craving. She felt his tentacles grind through her bosom again and again at the same time, and others ground into her muscular thighs, squeezing into her bulging muscles with something like admiration for their size and strength. She did all she could to reward him for all that pleasure, for all that power, for being the invincible beast he was... but despite her formidable and already growing strength, she was stretched out far too much for her muscles to be able to apply much pressure, but she still tried hard, arching her back and bucking as hard and fast as she could, her helpless passage clenching weakly around his titanic girth, washing it down in incandescent, pearly nectar as she experienced yet another orgasm, out of intense bliss and ecstatic agony at the same time. "My sweet Samara... I've missed you, for all these years... missed the beautiful girl I always knew you'd grow up to be... missed the obedient, worshipful daughter I knew you'd become... with such a good mother as yours, after all, I knew you'd grow up a perfect daddy's girl." Killer teased, grinning widely and experiencing wonderful carnal delight, pleasure burning in his veins, thrumming in his muscles, flooding his body from everywhere as his tentacles rampaged inside the drooling goddesses splayed all around him, his head tilting back as he growled his ecstasy to the ceiling, angling himself to pile-drive his massive cock into Vera with even greater strength and force, feeling power pulsing in his veins, thrumming in every inch of his body. Again and again and again his monstrous godcock plunged hard inside her flexing body, pistoning in and out with great fountains of blood and hot juice squirting out of her ravaged holes, her guts strewn around his titanic girth and his glorious shaft no longer black but crimson with the blood and ruin coating, drenching and soaking it. He grinned as he felt the warmth of blood streaking down his fingers, down his tentacles, down his monstrous cock, and he could feel the agony and the pleasure in the bodies of his daughters, his Praetorians, his wives and Disciples, all of their forms moving roughly, vociferously, hungrily back against him, all of them putting their lives and fates entirely into his hands, fueling his delight and urging him towards greater and greater excesses.

Her eyes bulged as she bucked desperately back against his hard pistons, hands clutching into his enormous tentacles as the immense appendages effortlessly took charge of her body, yanking her violently up and down the terrifying length of his cock, allowing him to roll her great breasts, squeeze them together and pinch her fat nipples in his hands, half-lovingly, half-savagely. She gazed up at him with adoration and craving, her whole body burning with such lust and her hands pumping with such desperate need that he allowed the massive tentacle buried down her throat to rip backwards. He grinned widely as her eyes bulged and her cheeks painfully swelled even further, nearly ripping apart as tremendous amounts of thick black precum blasted out of her stretched-out jaws, causing them to pop audibly as the tremendous pressure somehow forced them even further apart. The slobbering, squelching noise was deafening as his mammoth tentacle slowly ripped outwards, the gigantic flare scraping her insides and nearly ripping her whole stomach apart, making her retch and gag obscenely as dark precum was forced up through airways already crammed full with meat and giant sperms. Unbelievable fountains of dark essence erupted out of her nostrils and from the corners of her mouth, and when the tentacle finally popped up she coughed raggedly and vomited up a huge gush of dark, hyperpotent essence that cascaded down over her breasts, streaming down all over her already drenched body as she coughed and rasped, vainly trying to clear up a passage for some fresh air and only choking all the harder on that sticky, sloppy, dense batter full of godlike sperms. As if all that gunk wasn't enough, the tentacle blasted out another immense rope of black precum that coated her from pussy to ears and beyond, the enormous load smashing loudly against the wall at the far end of the flooded laboratory, causing the Sentence's hull to groan audibly and tilt noticeably forwards.

Killer laughed darkly at the awareness that he was literally sinking the Sentence by flooding it with his incandescent precum, countless swimming pools worth of it, thousands upon thousands of tons of the stuff, the black gunk sloshing slowly and sloppily around them, with endless amounts of sperms in it, all of them like terrifying sea monsters. Massive rushes of thick, sticky dark seed blasted out of every hole and crevice of the goddesses' bodies, splashing heavily down into the lake, the sea, the ocean of Alpha hyperpotency sloshing around them, while gargantuan blasts of that thick, heavy, sticky, undeniably alive gunk fired out of his tentacles, hitting like cascades, deforming and shattering bulkheads of steel like they were nothing but the few condoms that Killer had tried wearing when he was young. None had ever fit; none had ever survived.

Samara gritted her fangs in an almost delirious grin even as that unending rope of precum heavily splashed down all over her, completely coating her features in thick dark essence that glued her eyes shut. Minutes and minutes passed, and Killer's essence continued to flood the vessel, hailing down in meteors packed full of gigantic sperms. Samara's mind almost completely snapped, her thoughts overruled by the mindless, undeniable need to pleasure and serve her Lord and God and Master and Daddy, her ruined body grinding up against him as best as it could, working every inch of her flesh against his great form, worshipping him, adoring him while his cock and tentacles continued to fill her and the Sentence up with his omnivirile load. She was overstretched, swelling, bulging, crammed impossibly full even as enormous amounts of the thick stuff sought ways to escape out of her, blasting out of every crevice and orifice it found. Where her hide turned a clear brown, it was literally possible to see the black of his essence showing through her insanely-stretched out muscles and skin, and the powerful, delicious corruption of the huge male pumped in her veins in such amounts that her veins bulged like cables, visible under her skin, like a network of darkness that from her heart spread towards every last inch of her form. She helplessly vomited a thick gush of black essence, unable to contain it, and the flood was never ending. She only grew even fatter with his dark essence, with his Alpha waste, with seed that he was literally wasting as a mere prelude to his true virility... and yet even his waste was overkill, pure excess that caused even the cold steel to rot and corrode, flaking away to ruin as it was utterly consumed by the God's ruinous, apocalypse-breeding cum.

She couldn't help herself, because whenever it felt like the flood coming out of her stomach might relent, a new one surged violently up her throat as the tentacles buried in her burning loins fired blasts so powerful that they surged up through her insides and smacked into her palate, knocking her head around while they exploded out of her mouth in huge gushes of pure masculine omnipotence. He snorted in entertainment as she guided the tentacles in her hands up against her face, using their great bodies to scoop a huge amount of black gunk out of her eyes, struggling to peel them open with how thickly they were glued... and when they finally snapped open they could only stare up at her Master, at her glorious, invincible overlord, and she trembled as he reciprocated her gaze, looking down at her with entertainment and affection and hunger, immense above her, towering and surrounded by immense tentacles eager for prey, all of them dripping great, sloppy ropes of seed.

She needed to worship, to tell him how supreme and perfect and beautiful he was, and she did her best to gulp down the endless surge of black cum, grinning widely and licking her muzzle with a tongue that had already grown, becoming thick, long, muscular, incredibly dexterous, flexible and forked like that of a true demon... with it, she was able to scoop off huge mouthfuls of dark semen, finally managing to open her mouth, throwing her head back with a ragged choke as she tried to arch her body to make it harder for the blasts of pre to surge all the way up through her form, just so that she could chant: "You are the only God... the Absolute, the Master... you are the Monster... the Beast that eats gods for breakfast... the Nightmare that ends the world and breeds a million new realities... You are everything I've ever wanted, and then even more, Master... and I live for you. And I'd sacrifice anything for you, my love... my love is so deep, my adoration so complete...I'd sacrifice myself, my children, the world, the whole universe... all of the fuckin' universes... all for you... all just to see you smirk."

Killer rumbled in approval at that, grinning widely and looking down with affection and dark pleasure as, beneath the tentacle that was throttling her, a massive tentacle began to take shape, burning into her flesh, merging with her hide, clamping tightly around her throat. And Samara shuddered in delight, hips bucking wildly as she breathed: "Fuck yes... take me in... forever yours. Yours and yours alone. Servant and daughter, slave and wife, disciple and lover... God Daddy... Master... I wanna kill for you, and destroy for you, and terrorize for you... and rape and rip people apart with you... I want all the worlds to chant and praise and cry and beg while we destroy and annihilate... while we fuck in their gore, like the monsters we are... just like this... and even more, and worse..."

He grinned and rumbled in delight, and the other goddesses growled from around the massive tentacles fucking their faces, adding their agreement and their hunger, causing the whole Sentence to vibrate violently as it sunk heavily deeper into the ocean, tilting forwards even further, groaning around them. And he looked down at Samara's neck as the collar took the exact same shape he had dreamt of... was it just because, well, he was creating it in tune with his desire, or was his mind opening and growing stronger as well, now giving him clear visions of the future...?

He could see Samara and Vanessa and Nadia, glorious and godlike and ravenous and beautiful, covered in tattoos and marks of Disciplehood and eager slavery, and he could see them punishing and enslaving realities whole, always in his name, always for his entertainment... and no, it wasn't just fantasy. It was definitely something more. Her collar was thick and heavy, tight around her throat and lined cruel spikes pushing outwards. It was made of silvery metallic alloy, with edges of glowing solidified light, more brilliant and precious and tougher than gold; a material worthy of a goddess like her. On the front of it, light solidified to form a roaring lion head, with a large ring hanging from its jaws, ready to take a leash.

Dog tags dangled from the steel ring, and one of them glowed with the crimson words "Property of Killer". Her eyes glowed solid emerald at the sight, and a little cry of bliss came from her throat even as she gargled on thick dark precum, one of her hands letting go of his tentacles just to reach up and caress her new collar, the object that she had been craving so intensely. "I have my collar...!" She breathed, before grinning widely, half-snarling in triumph as she repeated: "I have my collar! I'm Samara Huxley, property of God, his slave and his weapon... and the universes shall cower in my shadow!" She laughed and flexed her powerful arms, hissing in bliss at the formidable, terrifying power she felt thrumming in her great muscles as the flames tattooed down the right side of her body, from the neck all the way down her shoulder and arm, seemed to burst into life, dancing and glowing brighter than the stars, as fiery, incredible energy filled her whole form. Swirling flames seemed to run in a circle around her huge bicep as she flexed, and they left behind flowing tribal symbols and stylized flames, forming a tattoo all around the great muscle. Her massive, powerful shoulder tensed as energy seemed to explode out of it, and the great glow of golden light etched the figure of a feral lion head, majestic and mighty and proud, shown in the act of roaring. On the opposite shoulder, in similar fashion, appeared the "two-winged beast", a feral liger with one demonic and one angelic wing, symbol of Killer's Disciplehood. Swirling tribal decorations decorated the underside of her huge, firm breasts, and a Predator symbol, a skull pierced by winged sword, etched itself over her chiseled abs in a great, incandescent glow of energy. She hissed in delight when a large KO mark suddenly carved itself into her right thigh, and she flexed her spectacular legs, kicking at the air with new and terrifying strength, her toes curling as she cackled with the awareness of her new, absolutely monstrous strength. She had effortlessly destroyed planets earlier on, and now she felt so indescribably supercharged with energy that thinking of planets only made her laugh. They were nothing but dust, so frail that the real challenge was not in destroying them, but in keeping them whole... She flexed her fingers at the thought, and slowly looked down at her pinky, trying to think of a single feat that would make her sweat... but everything felt trivial, almost insultingly easy as he kept pouring power into her, as abundantly as he filled her with semen. Not that she needed it. She already couldn't imagine limits to her possibilities, after all... but still she welcomed it, all the same. She was hungry for more. That was her father's energy, after all... delicious beyond all descriptions. And she delighted in feeling invincible and omnipotent, and she took even more pleasure from knowing that, somehow, he was even stronger, by far. And taking pure, complete bliss from the awareness that her power was his power. The stronger she became, the stronger he grew... and she couldn't wait to see him becoming something absolutely, utterly, completely beyond.

And Killer growled hungrily and gripped into her muscular, formidable thigh as she flexed, his hand squeezing into the hard mountains of muscle of her quads as she smirked knowingly and made those great chords of strength dance for him, bulging and relaxing, tensing and shifting, while two long lines of glowing energy snaked down her leg, making her hiss lightly as they burned through her hide... and when they vanished they left behind two huge cobras, perfectly drawn over her solid muscles, their bodies tangled together and wrapped all around her powerful limb, at one point moving through the sockets of a cracked skull drawn on her massive quad muscles. Just like in his vision, one of the two cobras seemed to stare at him from the neck of her foot, its mouth open, its hood extended, great fangs on display and its eyes seeming to glow, alive and ferocious. A teasing, shameless "Slut" tattoo swirled into view on her inner thigh as she teasingly stroked her hand down her muscles, lasciviously drawing his eyes to that very spot as she smeared pearly nectar and blood and dark precum all over herself, and the mighty calves of her right leg became covered in other tribal symbols as well as a demonic, horned skull with a snake as tongue.

But what caught Killer's eye the most was a glowing "Daddy's girl" tattoo glowing into view on the other leg, burning bright and unmistakably for all the world to see. "Because when all the little boys will be drooling at the sight of this body, I want them to know who owns all of this..." Vera teasingly said, flexing a body that had grown taller, stronger, even more beautiful and perfect, even more gloriously shaped, supercharged with feminine beauty and with raw, brutal power at the same time. She licked her muzzle, her long tongue literally wrapping several times around it in a very, very suggestive way, and with another flex and a growl of pure bliss she grew even further, and glorious horns pushed out of her head, crowning her as darkness wrapped all over her body, giving her a smooth, lucid, flawless black hide, darker than a starless night and yet impossibly luminous at the same time. Her tattoos and marks stood out even more clearly and proudly with that, and her raven hair turned crimson, fiery and dancing slowly in the air, crackling with incredible energy. The front of her body and her inner thighs almost took on the color of blood, so that her greedy black-fleshed labia stood out all the more, stretched out savagely by his pounding, immense girth... but her dark hide, the result of her spontaneous Inversion, literally feasted on the black precum coating her, greedily absorbing as much of it as it could, drinking of the great power it contained. "You only need to tell me how bad you want me to be, God Daddy..." Samara teased, eyes glowing solid emerald as she immediately began to buck her hips with far greater energy, with almost savage force and hunger, even as her blood continued to leak out around his murderous girth. Her vital fluids were now dense and incandescent like magma, but that only added to Killer's savage delight and to the wondrous sensations coming from his gigantic tentacles and from his gigantic cock as he slammed himself harder and faster into his Disciples, picking up strength and pace with each passing moment, feeling their bodies squirming and bouncing and bucking and then feeling them trembling whenever his massive, ponderous testicles smashed into some part of them with loud, wet, punishing impacts. His colossal balls smacked into his own tentacles most of the time, however, such was the tangle of bodies and appendages, but the stretched-out, ravaged labia of their stretched sexes kissed into his testicles at every chance, making him growl in delight. Tiny little Desire was still clamped between the tangle of squirming tentacles, Savannah barely able to hold on to her hips as she was savagely rammed from all angles and directions at once... and Killer grinned as the little girl cheerfully smeared thick, black precum all over herself, laughing and cheerful even as the deadly, monstrous tentacles flexed all around her, more than powerful enough to crush her into liquid in any moment, with the most tremendous of ease.

He licked his muzzle slowly, his long, thick, demonic tongue wrapping around his thick muzzle as a bit of drool fell from his jaws, his eyes burning with lust as he buried himself even deeper inside Samara, causing her body to bulge obscenely, bones creaking audibly... and he growled, feeling his own powerful orgasm finally on the rise. His tentacles became frenzied, their movements savage, their coils tightening around the goddesses hard enough to crack ribs and strangle throats, juices squelching loudly out of every stretched-out hole and bubbling out of jaws that were pushed as far as they could possibly go. The great tentacles moved with vicious strength and speed, and Killer growled as they whip-lashed around and pushed the goddesses together, squeezing them in a pile of muscular, beautiful bodies and pistoning inside of them with formidable force, urged on by the amazing feeling of rubbing against each other, separated only by thin layers of flesh and muscle of the goddesses' stretched-out bodies between them.

"Welcome home, Samara. I love you... and gods, I love you even more when you are such a bad girl..." Killer said, grinning widely as he leaned down over her, his fingers ripping gouges into her bouncing breasts, his fingers squeezing her hard nipples between them while blood streaked down his wrists and powerful arms, his other hand rolling down her stretched-out body just so he could feel his cock slamming in and out, surrounded by tentacles that squirmed, writhed and pistoned inside of her with savage force, grinding into his behemoth girth as he tore his immense member up into her, again and again and again, testicles smashing into firm buttocks with a fierce rhythm. He roared in pleasure, shaking the whole submarine and sending a ripple through the ocean, while Samara threw her head back and somehow managed to scream, even as she choked on the thick precum that crammed full every little inch of her body, her legs kicking wildly at the air, her body flexing and spasming and her hips bucking wildly as yet another orgasm burst out of her in rich, powerful squirts... and Killer leaned down with a hungry growl and wrapped his lips over hers, almost biting into her smaller muzzle as he forced his thick tongue deep down her throat, making her gargle as the huge appendage twisted and gyrated and pushed all the way down towards her stomach. He could taste mostly only his own potent virility, but her tongue did her best to respond, to wrestle against his own, and her eyes burned into his as their hot breath washed on each other's features.

She moaned loudly as she felt something tear inside of her, his monstrous black cock ramming even deeper inside her, making her feel like her whole body would burst apart like an overfilled balloon, but she only moaned louder, bucking hard up against his brutal pistons and wrapping her legs as best she could around his thick, powerful waist, even as her blood rained down on the floor. She could clearly feel every pulse of blood that ran through the great, cable-like veins that stuck out across the endless, titanic godcock, she was shaken by every thrum of that incredibly solid flesh, every flex of that indomitable tower of hypervirility sent waves through her entire body, was powerful enough to make her twitch and heft her out of the crater in the floor. She could feel the immense load of semen traveling up that apocalyptic length and it made her tremble in anticipation and fear, her eyes locked onto his own as he raped his throat with his tongue and pistoned in and out of her obliterated pussy. Buried beneath his spectacular body, she moaned helplessly, lost in a sea of lust and mindless delight that had overwhelmed her quivering form, her thoughts drowned out by the sight of him, by his glorious smell, by the unbelievable intensity of the ultimate God looming her, and by the unrivalled power of his hardening, fattening, monolith of hypervirility.

And then, finally, he roared into her throat and flexed, smashing himself deep inside her as the immense, cockhead-shaped bulge in her chest swelled violently even larger, fattening and rounding out, making her groan as her muscular chest nearly tore apart completely as his first colossal load erupted inside her, bloating and inflating her with burning-hot essence that was unbelievably thick, rich, potent, incredibly and unfathomably alive, festering with unholy amounts of monstrous sperms that dwarfed even his other ones.

It blasted into her with such strength that she felt herself pushed off him, but her Father pinned her viciously down, squeezing into her breasts and continuing to forcibly reshape her body even further with the great flood of semen, of hot essence that rushed down around the immense shaft and up through her, seeking any exit it could find even as her spectacular body bulged obscenely out of her usually perfect shape. He grunted in entertainment as his own cum, firing up from beneath, fired up into her throat and even up into his own, and he savored his own rich, potent taste for a moment before tearing back from the kiss, throwing his head back and roaring in delight and triumph, allowing great geysers of his semen to blast out of her jaws and her nostrils, thick streams washing down her face and body as she gargled helplessly. It was an enormous, endless load that kept firing into her for an eternity of bliss and agony... and all of his tentacles fired their own immense loads, filling up every crevice inside the other goddesses as well, while others, coiled around their forms or reared up into the air like monsters eager to strike, fired their colossal volleys across the vast laboratory, sending out volcanic explosions of omnipotent virility that washed over the Disciples and Praetorians, drenching them all over and over and over again. Eyes bulged, throats gagged and convulsed, ragged shrieks rose to the ceiling as thick, omnivirile cum erupted out of nostrils, mouths, ears, the huge male continuing to savagely thrust into them all even as his endless load flooded the Sentence and made it sink deeper down into the ocean, a literal sea of hypervirile essence sloshing all around them, deep and immense.

Killer laughed viciously and continued to thrust in and out of Samara with a snarling grin on his features, his eyes burning with ecstasy... and his beloved goddesses could only take him as best as they could, hands uselessly clutching into tentacles that were frenzied and insatiable and that squeezed greedily into their bodies, making them moan loudly and helplessly as they continued to thrust with savage force and rhythm. And then, when Samara's body could literally not take anymore, the huge male began to rip his immensity back out of her, and allowed her body to splash down into the sea of his omnipotent essence, grinning darkly as his tentacles slid out and off her and rose in the air around him, while his titanic tower of a godcock swung up and slapped into his muscular chest, throbbing with incredible masculine power, so enormous that even his huge hands could barely handle its monstrous girth, and he sat up on his haunches, head bowed forwards not to tear through the Sentence's hull as he pumped the rest of his load out all over their eager, begging faces, his tentacles adding their own heavy ropes of cum in a literal deluge.

"Welcome home, Samara." He repeated, teasingly, grinning viciously as he unleashed his masculine omnipotence over them all. He felt truly powerful, truly godlike, truly limitless... and even as her mind continued to pound and hurt him, for the moment he could only focus on his ecstasy and hungers. He was with his girls now. And the monster that he had unwillingly created was destroyed, dissolved and devoured, imprisoned back where it had originated from: inside his own monstrous, glorious, prodigious body.