Hunter's Rise Ch. 43 - Pupil 43

All characters involved in any sexual scenes are above the age of consent.

This is the third installment of a lengthy story that I had to split into multiple chapters to make it more digestible.

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Part 18

"We don't want any trouble," Akemi said, raising both hands.

"You're Ari's pupils," said the pink-eyed woman with a smirk. "You should be ready for trouble all the time."

She reached toward her mouth and began pulling something out.

At first, it looked like she was yanking out her own tongue... but then more tongues followed. Dozens of them. Writhing, squirming, glistening.

Finally, she produced it--a sword made of flesh. The long, flexible blade was a massive tongue. The handle squirmed to life, coiling around her wrist for grip. The crossguard was a fleshy bloom of smaller tongues, twitching like the petals of a perverse flower.

"Whoa," Akemi gasped, half in awe, half in disgust. "A Tongue Titan augmentation..."

"Ahh, you must be the smart one," the woman purred. She looked like a wilder version of Aritimi--same deep brown skin, but her long braids alternated between jet-black and neon pink. Her outfit consisted of a tiny black tank top that did a terrible job at containing her overflowing chest, and skintight biker pants that left little to the imagination. Like her sisters, she was barefoot.

"Nope, that's her," Pixie said, pointing to Minerva.

"Hey, I don't care whose sister you are," Zara growled, stepping forward. "Mind your damn business."

"You better listen to her, Artixene," Aritimi snapped, still restrained. "My pupils are stronger than you think."

"Let's see about that," Artixene grinned. She cracked the fleshy whip-sword in the air. "Tongue Toledo!"

The tongue-blade shot forward like a serpent, aiming straight for Zara's face.

Zara's instincts took over. Her left arm transformed in an instant--a snarling wolf head erupted from her skin, and its powerful jaws snapped down on the blade.

Hristina, wide-eyed but reactive, stepped in. She grabbed the glistening sword with both hands. "Господи," she muttered under her breath in Russian. "Так скользко..."

It was wet. Very wet. Perfect.

She channeled her freezing power into it, mist rising as frost rapidly spread across the meaty surface. Within seconds, the squirming tongue-blade stiffened into ice.

Artixene tried to yank it back, only for it to snap in half. The severed stump writhed like a decapitated eel in her grip.

"You little bitches!" Artixene howled, glaring at Zara, Hristina, and the others.

"Maybe we should tie them up next to Ari," one of the sisters suggested, licking her lips. "Punish them together."

"Good idea," Artume said coolly. "But leave my granddaughter out of it." She pointed to Curtis.

"Nope," Artixene smirked. "And shut your mouth, Artume, before you join them too."

Several of the sisters stepped forward, aligning behind Artixene, clearly ready to fight. Only two hung back--Artume, and the one controlling the massive tentacle wrapped around Aritimi.

"Max! Get the camera ready!" Rita barked, scrambling to find the best angle. "We're definitely putting this on the front page!"

Then...

"What the hell is going on here?"

The room fell quiet at the sound of the voice.

Venus had entered from the kitchen, holding the crust of a pizza slice in one hand and wiping her mouth with the other. She looked... relaxed. But her eyes burned with authority.

Artixene turned, eyeing her up and down.

"Wow," she said with a sneer. "A landwhale."

Venus popped the last bite of crust into her mouth, chewed, and swallowed. Then she wiped her hands on her coat.

"You're gonna want to let Timi and her students go," she said flatly. Her tone wasn't threatening. It wasn't angry.

It was just... a fact.

"Ooooh, the lard golem is threatening me," Artixene mocked, hand on her hip. "What if I don't obey? You gonna sit on me, Miss Piggy?"

"Girl, I deal with a clone of Donald Trump every day. You're gonna need sharper material if you want to hurt my feelings with a fat joke," Venus replied, taking a slow step forward.

Artixene scowled, shoved the broken tongue sword back into her mouth, and pulled it out again, fully restored and dripping with fresh slime.

She whipped the blade around in a circle, sending it spiraling toward Venus like a fleshy whip. But instead of striking her, the sword suddenly stalled, caught in orbit, endlessly spinning around her massive body.

"Hey, what the hell?" Artixene tugged on the hilt, confused.

Zara already knew. Venus' Orbit Orangutan power had activated. The blade was now a satellite, trapped in gravitational pull.

"Try again, sweetheart," Venus muttered, unimpressed.

Snarling, Artixene ripped the weapon free and charged, blade raised high, leaping directly at Venus. But right before impact, she froze midair, suspended in place like someone hit pause on a violent anime frame. Her entire body hovered there, sword and all.

"You'll need a little more force if you want to break my gravitational barrier," Venus said, casually opening a packet of M&M's and tipping a few into her mouth.

"Hee hee hee! She's a walking black hole," another sister giggled, stepping forward. Her blue yoga pants clung like a second skin, matched by a cropped top. Her hair was tied in a ponytail with electric-blue tips that matched her glossy lipstick.

Her body suddenly began to flicker, like a video game glitch. Then she exploded into a cascade of glowing blue pixels and reassembled midair next to Artixene.

"Maybe try a different angle next time," the blue-haired woman suggested. She touched Artixene, and both of them glowed for a moment, clearly triggering some kind of power. But nothing changed. They were still stuck.

"What the hell? Why are we still floating, Artemina?" Artixene barked.

"I don't know! We're not supposed to be here anymore!" the sister, Artemina, complained, trying again--and failing.

"Like I said," Venus sighed, munching on another candy, "you're in my gravity now. You can pixelate, teleport, liquefy, or explode into stardust--nothing escapes unless I say so. Not even your subatomic particles."

"That's enough, girls."

The voice came from the back, where another sister leaned casually against the wall, puffing on a sleek, blood-red cigar.

"Oh look, now the book club's here," Artixene sneered. "You wanna help us beat this Dire Hippo, Artamas?"

Artamas, clearly the eldest, had shoulder-length dark hair streaked with natural silver. Her outfit looked like a sexy librarian costume in mourning--tight pencil skirt, high-collared blouse, glasses perched perfectly. But it was obvious from her mild discomfort that she, too, hated wearing clothes. Zara suspected most of the family did, just like Aritimi and Artume.

"Sorry about my sisters," Artamas exhaled a puff of crimson smoke. "They're just... excited to be here."

Venus gave a slow blink. "I'm about ten seconds from crushing them with my gravity."

With a thud, the orbiting sisters suddenly crashed to the ground.

"Thanks," Artamas nodded, strolling forward, cigar still in hand.

She approached the one who had Aritimi bound in tentacles, who was still holding her sister suspended midair like a struggling fish in a net.

"Let her go before security shows up and this turns into a bloodbath."

"Fine." The sister slowly unwound the tentacle from Aritimi. "Would've been a shame to wipe out the entire school's security over a little family drama."

"Don't get cocky, Artemelle," Artamas warned, flicking ash.

"I think you ladies should head out now," Venus said, cracking open a Coke like this was just her lunch break.

"Right, right. I heard the Dragonriders from Europe just landed," Artamas replied. "I want to pet the dragons... and some of the riders."

With that, she turned on her heel and her sisters followed behind her, stomping out of the cafeteria like a pack of mischievous supermodels on their way to wreak havoc somewhere else. The crowd parted without a word, as if Moses had just parted the sea for a gang of orcish runway queens.

Part 19

Now that the Argento sisters had left the canteen, everyone could come in. The girls could finally enjoy their lunch break.

"Why didn't you just use your portal powers to escape that tentacle?" Zara asked Aritimi as they sat down. Venus was still there, snacking like nothing had happened.

"Artemelle's tentacle came from a Phasing Squid," Aritimi explained. "That species is the natural predator of Riftwalkers -- the same type my portal powers come from. To put it simply: she neutralized me. Probably got that power just for this occasion."

Zara raised an eyebrow. "Yikes. Petty runs deep in your family, huh?"

Soon, Aritimi and Venus left together, and Zara finished her meal. The others were still busy eating or chatting -- even Skeletina was in conversation with Fred.

Bored and fidgeting, Zara's eyes landed on Bram. He was still handing out flyers, occasionally getting whistles and catcalls thanks to his goth femboy look and translucent fishnet dress.

"Finally, some rest," he sighed, slipping into the seat beside Zara. "Hope you don't mind. I didn't want to sit next to a total stranger -- not in this outfit. Kinda awkward, y'know?"

"No problem," Zara shrugged. "You're safe here."

Bram began eating, and for a moment, the two just sat in a companionable silence.

"Hey, Bram," Zara leaned in slightly, "what's it like having your whole family in this business? None of my close relatives are in the HSA."

He paused mid-bite. "Strange, to be honest. It doesn't feel like a job. It's our... life. There was never any other path for me."

"So, you didn't really choose this yourself?"

He scratched the back of his head. "That's complicated. Mom and Grandma raised me and my sister with this in mind. We never fought it. Maybe they would've let us choose something else, but we never really asked. We like working with them. And I wouldn't know what to do otherwise, anyway."

"I used to work as a bartender," Zara said. "At a bar where young hunters hang out."

"Interesting career choice," Bram said between bites.

"Not really a dream job. I just needed the money. I wasn't augmented at the time, and the surge of augmented hunters nearly killed my career. I was about to walk away from this life for good... but then they called me in for a special augmentation. Turned out to be a Flesh Fiend."

"Whoa. So now your job's safe?"

Zara shrugged. "I don't know. I've been in this mentorship course with Aritimi for months. I want to be the best one day, but the more I see, the harder that looks. This whole business is way more complicated than I thought. But enough about me--what about you? What was your biggest catch?"

"In a team? Helped take down a Thunder Terror once."

"Nice," Zara whistled, impressed.

"Solo though... just an Iceling. Nothing groundbreaking. Pretty sure even an amateur could handle one of those alone."

"Still better than nothing," Zara said, casually placing a hand on Bram's pale thigh.

That's when she noticed the bulge under the dress. Hard not to -- the sheer fabric left little to the imagination, and he clearly wasn't wearing anything underneath. She could see everything.

Her hand shot back like she'd touched a live wire. "Oh! Sorry."

Bram blushed, turning his head away slightly. "No problem..."

Zara snorted, covering her mouth. "Not gonna lie -- I was about to ask which team you're playing for. Guess I got my answer."

"Yeah," Bram chuckled, cheeks still burning. "Most people think femboy equals gay, but I'm actually into girls. This is just... my style, I guess. I like girls so much I want to see one when I look in the mirror."

Zara blinked, then grinned. "Honestly? That's kinda sweet in a weird way."

"Oh, and I don't care much about pronouns, by the way. He/him is fine. She/her's fine too. Go with whatever feels natural."

"Good to know," she said, nodding.

There was a pause.

"By the way... are you free tomorrow?" he asked, still a bit flushed. "Just to hang out or something. No pressure. I just figured I might not get another chance to ask."

Zara blinked again. "Um... maybe. Depends. Aritimi usually schedules training the day after a course like this. But I'll check with her." She pulled out her phone and quickly sent him a friend request. "I'll let you know."

"Hey, Zara! You ready?" Akemi called from across the table. Everyone else was packed up and ready to head out.

"Yeah!" she called back. She turned to Bram with a smirk. "See ya later," she said with a wink.

As she walked off, she heard someone snicker behind her.

"Careful, Zara. You keep flirting with goth boys in fishnets, and we're gonna start calling you Web-Wench," Dayanara teased.

Zara groaned, waving a hand behind her. "You're all just jealous 'cause my femboy's hotter than yours."

Part 20

"Where are we going?" Zara asked as they headed down the stairs. They were in the familiar direction of Professor Delmar's room, but this time passed it completely.

"No spoilers," Lexi smirked.

"But why are we even coming back here? Why not earlier?"

"They were too busy," Lexi said with a shrug. "Plus, we had to ditch Rita first."

"Speaking of which," Zara looked around, "Where is she?"

"I saw her sneaking out after the Argento sisters while Max sat down to eat," Akemi replied. "Not expecting that to be the last we see of her, though. Unlike Aritimi, we can't portal away."

Finally, they reached a new door.

"Oh, I know this place," Gaylor said, adjusting her glasses. "That's the Agriculture Protection class. I don't attend, but Mark does. Says it's wild."

"Hester's unit," Zara nodded. "So is she the teacher?"

"Nope," Lexi answered. "But her family helps out with demos if they're free."

They stepped inside.

The room resembled the emo trio's simulation space, but here the setting was a vibrant patchwork of crops, vegetables, and orchard trees. A soft breeze drifted through illusionary skylights.

"So... this is another monster simulation setup?" Zara asked.

"Probably," Gaylor replied. "Mark said they do competitions where students have to defend crops or livestock from simulated pests. Winner gets stuff like grade boosts or even exam exemptions."

"Okay, but... who's the teacher?" Irish asked.

The answer revealed itself when they spotted a small crowd gathered near a giant wooden cross at the edge of the "field." On it slumped a scarecrow.

Or, rather... a woman-shaped scarecrow, a naked one.

Then the scarecrow turned its head.

"Hi, guys!" she chirped with a bright, airy voice. A few students startled.

"I'm Ruthelle Hart, and this is my class," she said cheerfully, leaping down from the cross. Her large, stitched breasts bounced from the landing. "Nice to see so many new faces."

"E... excuse me," one of the students raised a hand nervously. "You said Hart? As in the hybrid sisters who teach some of the other classes?"

"Yep, that's us," Ruthelle said, smiling. "Some of us are on staff, others help with shows or guest lectures."

"Oh... so you're a hybrid too?"

"That's right," she nodded proudly. "I'm a scarecrow-human hybrid."

Ruthelle's appearance was unsettlingly beautiful, in a haunted doll kind of way. Her skin was pale burlap in tone and texture, but with soft, supple patches like smoothed leather. Thick black stitches traced along her arms, collarbones, and jaw, like a tailor's idea of anatomy.

Her eyes were large and glossy, almost porcelain, and framed by heavy lashes. Her straw-colored hair was a mess of dried frizz, tucked under a lopsided hat woven from what looked like actual hay. It was the only article of clothing she was wearing.

Despite her scarecrow makeup, her body was stunning--curved and symmetrical, like she'd been designed for both protection and temptation. Her nipples were unnaturally perfect, pink against her faux-flesh skin, and her sex was surprisingly natural-looking--neatly groomed with a straw-blonde strip and soft, very human folds.

"I know, I know, I look like someone sewed me together in a backwoods barn," Ruthelle said, spinning slowly to show off both sides of her stitched body. "But I'm very much flesh and blood. Just... built different."

Her ass was round and flawless, smooth like a mannequin's, with just enough jiggle to betray her living nature. A few of the boys whistled.

"Thank you, boys," she grinned, winking. "But now, eyes up front, hands to yourselves. Time for class."

In the next few minutes, Ruthelle gave a passionate, if occasionally chaotic, lecture about the importance of agriculture protection and the kinds of monsters that typically threatened crops and livestock.

"We'll have some special guests soon," she announced, clapping her stitched hands together. "So for now, feel free to take a little break!"

As the crowd scattered, Zara stepped up to her.

"Um... hey, can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"I wanted to ask about you and your sisters," Zara began. "Like... what's the deal? Were you all adopted by the same family or something?"

Ruthelle shook her head, her frizzy straw-blonde hair rustling. "Oh no, we're all related by blood. Same human mother."

"Seriously? I've seen like... a dozen of you."

Ruthelle chuckled. "If only it were just a dozen."

"How's that even possible?"

"Well, monster pregnancies--even hybrid ones--are fast. We develop quickly. The age gap between our eldest and youngest is only five years."

"That's wild," Zara said. "But what really puzzles me is how you all turned out hybrid. Usually, when a human has a monster baby, it's a pure monster. Hybrids are rare, and having so many from one mother? That's unheard of."

"Ah, that's because our mom has very dominant genes," Ruthelle said proudly. "We got lucky."

Zara opened her mouth to ask more, but then her eyes were drawn to the classroom door, where three very different figures had just entered.

Two were young women, dressed like they'd walked straight out of a historical drama: long dresses, neat braids, soft bonnets. One was a redhead, the other blonde. Definitely Amish.

But the third?

The third was impossible to miss.

Zara instantly recognized her from the canteen; a woman with a fit, athletic build and breasts so large they could've had their own postal code. She wasn't technically naked, but her micro bikini barely met the legal definition of clothing. The tiny triangles over her nipples failed to conceal her wide, slightly aging areolae. Below, a shaved crescent moon of slightly greying dark pubic hair peeked over an equally minimal bottom piece.

Her skin looked rough and calloused along her chest and thighs, like she'd just sprinted through a sandstorm. And her long, dark hair fell in a straight sheet past her waist, swishing behind her like a silk whip.

All eyes were immediately glued to her, and she knew it.

"Hello," the woman said as she approached Ruthelle and Zara. Her voice was smooth, with a slight accent. "Ah, a human-scarecrow hybrid. Must've been a wild party. And you..." Her gaze shifted to Zara. "One of Ari's pupils, right?"

"Yeah. What do you want?" Zara asked cautiously. "Just because the principal's not around doesn't mean you can mess with us."

"Oh no, no trouble," the woman said with a smile, raising her hands. "Let me introduce myself properly. I'm Artemora. Not as famous as some of my sisters yet, but I'm getting known: Europe, Africa, a few naughty magazines."

She extended a hand. Zara shook it.

"Zara Cromwell. So why are you here?"

"Just a friendly competition," Artemora chuckled. "I often work with agriculture defense units, so I'm not out of place here. Plus, I heard one of Ari's girls has powers similar to mine. Thought I'd drop by for a little test."

"Ah," Zara turned, "Irish, she's here for you."

"What?" Irish zoomed over, eyes wide.

"Yes, she's the one," Artemora nodded. "How'd you know I was a speedster?"

"Well," Zara said, "You're barely dressed. Speedsters tend to burn through normal clothes at high velocity. And your skin--especially your chest--has signs of friction burn. People call it speed-skin."

Artemora grinned. "Smart girl."

"I try," Zara replied. "So... you're here for a race?"

"Just a quick one. See if I've still got it."

"Hah! I'll take that challenge gladly," Irish said.

"Good." Artemora stretched with exaggerated flair, then strutted to a corner of the room, making sure every step jiggled. The string bikini was completely swallowed by her buttcheeks--and most of the boys didn't even try.

"Thanks for bringing her, girls," Ruthelle said, turning to the two bonnet-wearing young women.

"We've got time," said the blonde one. "We can stay and help, if needed."

"No need," Ruthelle waved her off. "Go prepare for the fight class. So bad I can't see you girls in action, but I have a job to do here as well."

They were about to turn when the redhead spotted Irish.

"Look, Mary, it's the dwarf who saved Mother and Grandmother!"

"Oh!" Irish lit up. "You must be Hester's granddaughters! Irish O'Neill," she introduced herself, offering a hand.

"Mary Schwartz," the blonde replied.

"Mary Schwartz," echoed the redhead.

Irish blinked. "Oh... I heard that Mary is a popular name among the Amish community. I guess both your mothers must like it. Hm, you must be Anna's daughter, you technically look like a blonde version of her. And you... Maybe Judith's daughter?"

"Close enough," the redhead Mary nodded, "but we are both Anna's daughters."

"What?"

"She liked that name, and our father couldn't stop her," the blonde Mary said.

Irish gave them a weird look. "So... you're both Anna's kids?"

"Yup," nodded red-haired Mary. "She's very persuasive."

Irish turned to Zara with a deadpan expression. "I'm going to outrun this old hag just to get my brain to stop processing all of this."

"We believe in you," blonde Mary said.

"We have to prep for another show, but we'll stay for a few minutes," red-haired Mary added. "Wouldn't miss it."

As Irish stretched out, Artemora decided to give the crowd a little pre-race show.

Ruthelle released a small flock of two-headed ravens into the field--part training exercise, part chaos test--but Artemora shot into action before the first one could flap twice. In a blur of movement, she zipped around, grabbing each bird mid-air and returning them gently to their cage without a single feather harmed or a single leaf trampled.

"Whoa, she's fast," Zara said, watching Artemora move like a living thunderbolt. Her long, straight hair snapped behind her like a giant black serpent with every turn.

"She should cut it," Irish muttered, eyeing the cascade of hair. "Long hair at high speed? That's an accident waiting to happen." She ran a hand over her own red bob, neat and practical.

"Okay, girls, time for that little race!" Ruthelle called out, pointing at the field's perimeter. "This path circles the whole garden. Not quite regulation, but it'll do the trick."

"I've run on worse surfaces in Africa," Artemora said with a shrug. "This'll feel like clouds."

Zara, standing nearby, caught a glimpse of Artemora's bare feet while she stretched. The soles were hardened, covered in calluses and old scars--clear signs she'd raced across harsh terrain.

"To make it fair, I'll run barefoot too," Irish said, peeling off her socks and sneakers.

Everyone stepped back from the track, keeping a safe distance from what was about to become a storm.

Irish and Artemora stepped up to the starting line.

They looked... ridiculous together.

Artemora, a tall, athletic black woman, practically naked except for a few stringy scraps of fabric, her hair trailing like a flag. And beside her--Irish: 112 centimeters of freckled fury, pale as milk, dressed in jean shorts and a faded My Little Pony t-shirt. Not because she was a fan. It was just one of the few shirts that came in her size.

"How many laps do you want?" Irish asked. "A hundred?"

"A hundred? The audience would barely see anything." Artemora grinned. "Below three hundred, it'll just look like a blur."

"Alright then. How about a thousand?"

"Now you're talking," Artemora said with a gleam in her eye.

"Hey, Ruthelle!" Irish called over her shoulder. "Give us a countdown."

"You got it," Ruthelle nodded, lifting a hand. Her stitched-together fingers curled slowly into a fist.

"Three!"

"Two!"

"One! Go!"

The instant Ruthelle said "go," both speedsters were already halfway across the field.

To the crowd, it was impossible to track who was ahead. At first, Artemora had the lead, but soon Irish pulled ahead, only for Artemora to overtake her again. Then Irish. Then Artemora. Their positions switched at least twice per second.

To the naked eye, they were just two blurs circling the track like comets chasing each other.

Everything was fine... until Irish started to feel it. Heat.

She was going too fast, too long.

She had two options: stop (absolutely not), or ditch her clothes before they ignited. Option two it was.

Shirt and bra were easy; she slipped out of them mid-stride. Her shorts and underwear were trickier, but between two bounding steps, she managed to kick them off.

The crowd couldn't see her clearly--only the smear of a red-and-white blur--but they knew. Her clothes were gone.

Despite her small size, Irish had a surprisingly curvy figure. Her breasts were like ripe apples, small and perky, with pink nipples that pointed straight ahead like tiny rubber arrows. Her hips were wide, thighs and calves muscular like a pro sprinter's. Her pubis hair was shaved into a shamrock, and above her butt, a tramp stamp of a four-leaf clover shimmered with sweat.

Artemora had gained ground again, but Irish was closing in fast.

As Irish caught up, she glanced sideways. Artemora flashed her a sign in rapid-speed sign language: "Nice tits."

Irish smirked and signed back: "Yours are great too."

Using sign language is common among speedsters since it's hard to hear each other's voices with the wind whistling in their ears. Also, sometimes they are faster than sound.

Adrenaline surged through them both. Their speed increased. Faster. Then faster still. The track was practically catching fire.

They ran so fast, they lost count of the laps.

Then suddenly...

"Oh shit!" Artemora signed.

Everything went white.

Irish blacked out for a second. When her senses returned, she was standing still.

The room was dark.

But not empty.

Artemora stood nearby, her long hair sticking to her back, panting slightly. As Irish's eyes adjusted, she realized they were still on the field--but something was different.

"What... happened?" Irish asked, rubbing her forehead. "Did we...?"

"Yes," Artemora nodded. "We flash-forwarded. That's what people call it."

Irish's eyes lit up. "No way! My first time doing a time jump! That's so cool!"

"Do you remember much of the run?"

"Barely," Irish said. "Just... light, and wind, and... blur."

"Same," Artemora replied. "We must've hit runner's trance and lost control. When multiple speedsters push past their limits together, sometimes it triggers a temporal drift."

"So... we're in the future?"

Artemora sniffed the air. "Smells like it. Same day, probably. Just... a few hours ahead."

Irish looked around. "So what now?"

"Nothing," Artemora said calmly. "We'll get sucked back into the correct time soon. The universe doesn't like loose ends."

Just then, they heard it.

A low, echoing howl from outside.

Deep. Guttural. Monstrous.

Both speedsters turned toward the sound.

"Should we go check it out?" Irish asked.

"Yeah, why not?" Artemora replied. "We got a rare peek into the future--it'd be a shame to waste it."

They walked to the door, but Artemora suddenly paused.

"Wait," she said. "Okay, we can go now."

Irish blinked. "What was that?"

"I just made a mental note to remind the scarecrow girl not to lock the door once class ends," Artemora explained.

She opened the door. "Yes! She listened!" she grinned, and they stepped out.

Outside the building, they found total chaos.

Some people were riding dragons, clashing in the air against flying women. A towering abomination, composed of human bodies, was brawling with a giant man who looked weirdly familiar.

The fighting stretched across the campus, but oddly, there was no blood. Everyone seemed determined to win, but not to kill.

"What the fuck is going on?" Irish muttered.

"I don't know," Artemora said, eyes wide. "But it looks fun."

Then they spotted her: Rita the reporter, decked out in a glittering golden chain-mail bikini, swinging a gold sword like a fantasy princess. She rode atop a vaguely horse-shaped creature--if the horse had been built entirely out of human limbs.

Before either could react further, another flash of white light enveloped them.

Suddenly, they were back in the yard--in the present. It was packed with students and staff, chatting, unaware of what was coming. With their hyper reflexes, Artemora and Irish zipped back into the classroom before anyone even noticed.

They screeched to a halt right in front of their classmates, who blinked in surprise.

"Wait, so you actually flash-forwarded into the future?" Zara gasped after Irish explained the situation to them. "That's so cool!"

She and the others had to make Irish repeat herself three times--she spoke too fast the first two tries.

"Everything was chaotic," Irish said, panting. "I don't even know what to do with what I saw."

"That's easy," Artemora shrugged. "Nothing."

"Nothing?!"

"We can't stop what's coming. We just got a spoiler. If we try to interfere, we could cause way worse problems."

"Exactly," said Akemi, nodding. "Time doesn't like being poked."

"But you can still tell us what you saw," Zara grinned.

As Irish pulled her clothes back on, she recounted everything she could remember.

"That's all I got. It was dark. Fast. We were only there for a few seconds."

"Still sounds awesome," Zara said. "I hope I get to fight someone cool too."

"Maybe you'll be the one who fights Rita," Akemi teased.

Zara smirked. "That'd be great."

Part 21

The group moved to the next room, just beside the previous classroom. It was quite large and looked like a slice of a real city block. Buildings, shops, an asphalt road, and a few nonfunctional cars were set up to recreate an urban environment.

"Ah, this is the Rapid Response Simulation class," Jacintha said, sitting down on a bench while the crowd waited for the teacher.

"How do you know that?" Zara asked.

"Some of the Winchester girls told me--it looks exactly like this," she replied.

"Ah, is it related to their unit?"

"Yeah. Most people who take this class end up joining the Crisis Response Team," Jacintha explained.

As they waited, Jacintha noticed Skeletina eyeing the black rose sleeve tattoos on her arms.

"Do you like them?" Jacintha asked with a wink.

"I... I just... I was wondering how it felt," Skeletina stuttered.

"How what felt?"

"I mean... all of this," Skeletina said, gesturing awkwardly at Jacintha's body: the eyeball tattoos, sleeve tattoos, split tongue, piercings, sharpened teeth, corset piercings, and the skull-shaped subdermal implants on the backs of her hands.

"Oh, yeah, they were painful," Jacintha chuckled, raking her fingers through her spiky purple hair. "But you have to suffer for beauty."

"By the way, what did you use for that hair color? It doesn't look like a dye job," Skeletina said.

"It's the Dora Syndrome. My mom has a Purple Phantom augmentation, and it affected my hair color before I was even born."

"Oh, is it something... bad?"

"Nah, it just changed my hair color. That's all. But it made me feel unique, so I liked it."

"And why did you choose all those body mods?"

"After I managed to activate my augmentation, I got these." Jacintha held up her left hand. A small bulge formed just beneath the skin. It writhed and pulsed, as if something inside were trying to escape. Then, with a wet pop, it plopped onto the pavement in front of her and stretched into a naked, twitching replica with the same purple hair.

"I was surrounded by my copies all day," she said, gazing at the clone as it shivered on the ground. "And I just stopped feeling unique. I felt like just another face in the clone crowd. So I decided to make myself noticeable again. Different."

"And a different hairstyle wouldn't be enough?" Skeletina asked.

"Nah, I always think big," Jacintha laughed, flashing her sharpened teeth.

"A lovely welcome to everyone," a cheerful voice rang out as a completely naked woman stepped out of one of the fake buildings. Nobody needed her introduction to guess her name ended in Hart.

"Today, we'll explore the Rapid Response Simulation class! I'm your teacher, Valentina Hart," she chirped. "I hope no one minds my nudity. Some of my sisters--like Arabella and Iris--enjoy wearing clothes all the time, but I'm a cupid-human hybrid. We don't do fashion. Or fabric."

Clearly, no one in the crowd was offended. Valentina was almost offensively gorgeous--like a Valentine's Day card that got into a fight with a boudoir calendar and won.

Her skin had a constant romantic flush, as if she'd just stepped out of a fever dream painted by a lovestruck artist. Her eyes shimmered pink, with glowing, heart-shaped pupils that pulsed brighter when she smiled. Her bubblegum-pink hair bounced in thick curls, perfectly fluffed and impossibly glossy. Tiny, vestigial wings fluttered behind her shoulders--too small for flight, but cute enough to be accessories.

Even her nipples were extra: bright pink, perpetually erect, capping her firm, gravity-defying double Ds. Her pubic hair was bubblegum pink too, trimmed into a perfect heart.

As she moved closer, Zara caught a faint scent of roses and powdered candy on the air.

"Sorry for the delay, sweethearts," Valentina said. "I had to wait for my sister to finish getting ready for the demonstration."

"Can I start the rampage?" a voice called from one of the buildings.

"No!" Valentina shouted. "Go around to the trapdoor and enter from below, like we rehearsed! You're not supposed to burst out through the front!"

"Fine," the voice grumbled from inside.

In the following minutes. Valentina explained what the class stands for, then turned back to the group with a glowing smile. "So! If you enjoy this class and want to be part of the kind of team that hits the ground first and fights the biggest fights, the Crisis Response Team might be your destiny. Oh--and don't forget to rate my class on the site. I know I won't win, but I'd like to place slightly higher among the losers."

The crowd chuckled.

"And now--demonstration time!" she clapped her hands. "Any volunteers? Normally the Winchester girls help me out, but they're busy today."

"I'll do it," Jacintha said, raising her hand.

"Wonderful!" Valentina beamed as Jacintha stepped forward. Her eyes lingered for a second. "Hmm... purple hair, extreme mods... Are you the girl the Winchesters mentioned? Hyacinth?"

"Close," Jacintha smirked. "Same flower family--Jacintha."

"Of course!" Valentina giggled. "I'll give you a moment to prepare. I need to check in with my sister and get her into position."

"Need help?" Zara asked.

"Nah," Jacintha said with a shrug. "I've got clones. I'm never really alone."

Soon, Valentina returned, her curly pink hair, and firm tits bouncing with every step.

"Okay, everyone! The demonstration's about to begin, so everyone except Jacintha, please get behind the yellow safety line," she called out with a cheerful clap.

The crowd shuffled back, clearing the makeshift street until Jacintha stood alone on the asphalt, facing the rows of fake storefronts.

"Ready, Jacintha?" Valentina asked.

"Of course," Jacintha replied, cool and confident.

"Alright then," Valentina grinned. She turned and let out a sharp, theatrical whistle. "Atlas! It's rampage time!"

She glanced back at Jacintha with a mischievous smirk. "She won't hold back. So you shouldn't either."

A loud, metallic creak echoed through the set as a trapdoor at the far end of the city scene opened.

"Ooooh no!" Valentina cried out in mock panic, pressing her palms to her cheeks like a stage actress. "Something broke through from underground! It's a monster attack!" She tried to keep a straight face but cracked up halfway through the line.

Then something big began to rise from the trapdoor.

"It's rampage time!" boomed a thunderous voice, just as chipper as Valentina's, only several octaves deeper.

"Whoa! That's a giantess?" Zara asked, eyes wide as the towering figure emerged.

Valentina shook her head. "Atlas? No, she's a human-colossus hybrid."

Atlas stood like a living monument. Her entire body was covered in smooth, metallic-looking skin with a faint greenish-blue patina, like oxidized copper--the exact shade of the Statue of Liberty. She looked carved from history: regal, weathered, and imposing.

At 4.3 meters tall, her physique was massive but sculpted, not monstrous. Her muscles were defined with artistic precision, from the deep lines in her abdomen to the cords in her neck and thighs. Her hair was styled into heavy braids, woven with copper wire and fastened with decorative clasps, swaying like chains.

Like her sister, she was naked, but there was nothing vulnerable about her. Her breasts were massive even for someone her size. They were like boulders on her chest, with large, dark green areolas and nipples that looked like they could slice concrete. Her abs were so sharply defined they looked hand-chiseled.

Jacintha just smirked. "Oh, a big one. I wanted a bunch of smaller targets, but this'll do."

She then shook out her arms like a fighter about to step into the ring.

"Alright, let's make this interesting," she muttered.

She held her hands out, palms up, and focused. Just like before, something began to writhe beneath the skin--two swollen lumps, one in each palm, twitching and pulsing like eggs ready to hatch.

Pop.

Pop.

The first two clones dropped from her hands, naked and twitching, hitting the pavement with wet slaps before rapidly stretching into upright forms. Then two more. And two more again.

The crowd murmured as Jacintha picked up the pace, a small smirk forming on her lips. Her hands became production lines of flesh and bone, popping out copies of herself faster and faster. The ground around her was soon littered with writhing shapes, each one snapping into full size within seconds.

In less than a minute, two dozen Jacinthas stood shoulder to shoulder--identical purple hair, identical sneering confidence. Some cracked their necks. Some stretched. One stuck out her tongue at the crowd.

"Have fun, girls," the original Jacintha said, pointing toward the towering figure of Atlas.

The clones let out a war cry--part rebellious punk band, part horror movie swarm--and sprinted down the street toward the colossus.

Atlas didn't move.

Not until they got close.

Then--WHAM!

Her foot came down like a battering ram, crushing one clone into the pavement. The moment the body hit the ground, it began to dissolve--flesh bubbling and deflating like a melting wax figure, leaving behind a faint, steaming puddle.

CRACK! She twisted, bringing her knee up into another clone, launching it into the air like a ragdoll. It exploded midair in a puff of disintegrating skin and hair.

Another step. Another kick. Another swipe of her heavy arm. Each contact erased a Jacintha from existence, their bodies unraveling into puddles or mist the moment they were broken.

The audience gasped, mesmerized by the sheer speed and force of the destruction. Atlas was a living wrecking ball, her strikes deliberate and clean, despite her size. Limbs. Heads. Torsos. All reduced to sludge within seconds.

Within half a minute, half of the clones were already gone.

And Jacintha was smiling and started undressing, peeling off her clothes piece by piece, until even her underwear joined the pile on the sidewalk. She stood confidently, fully exposed under the fake street lights. Her bouncy C-cups caught more than a few eyes, not just for their shape, but for what was etched into them.

A new body modification, previously hidden: scarification. Tiny butterfly-shaped scars decorated her breasts in a chaotic yet strangely artistic pattern, with one etched directly into her left areola like a brand of defiance.

Skeletina visibly cringed, a shiver rolling down her spine. The idea of how those were made made her toes curl.

"Hmm, you got a nice body," Atlas rumbled from down the street. Her voice had a hint of admiration, but even more amusement. "You look just as artificial as me."

The towering colossus girl took a step forward, her massive feet cracking the asphalt beneath. She bent down and casually picked up a nearby car, gripping it like it weighed nothing more than a lunchbox.

Jacintha just grinned, unbothered. "Time for mass production."

Small lumps began to form all across her arms, shoulders, torso--even along her thighs. They writhed and twitched like something under her skin wanted out.

Then--pop pop pop pop--clones began pouring out of her body in rapid succession. Nearly a dozen every few seconds, hitting the ground in messy splats before stretching upright like fleshy jack-in-the-boxes, already alert and ready for action.

Atlas made her move.

She hurled the car like a projectile, straight at Jacintha.

The crowd watching gasped. It was clear Atlas expected her target to dive out of the way--to stop producing clones for even a moment.

But Jacintha didn't flinch.

Instead, a dozen clones leapt into the path of the car like programmed soldiers. The car slammed into them with a violent crunch, flattening a few instantly--but not all.

The survivors skidded back under the weight, bracing and pushing together. Muscles strained. Feet dug in.

And slowly--miraculously--they shifted the car to the side and set it down with only a minor dent, sparing the rest of the clones and the original Jacintha from harm.

Atlas raised an eyebrow.

The real Jacintha, still standing proud and bare-skinned, kept grinning.

Jacintha raised a hand, halting the flow of clones for a moment. Her voice rang out, confident and defiant.

"I'm not letting you reach the buildings behind me."

Atlas smirked. "Big words for a little girl."

In response, Jacintha's body swelled with motion again. Bumps surged across her skin, splitting open as more clones spilled out like a grotesque assembly line. Dozens more hit the pavement and immediately sprang into action--this time not charging, but stacking.

They began crawling over each other, forming a living wall of flesh and purple hair. Hands gripped ankles, shoulders, hips. Clones perched on each other's backs, climbed higher, braced themselves like scaffolding. The structure groaned and twitched with constant motion, always adjusting, but rising steadily.

In seconds, the clone wall was as tall as Atlas herself, four meters of human architecture, blocking the path.

The colossus tilted her head.

And then she laughed.

A low, husky chuckle that rumbled through the simulation room. "Cute."

She walked forward.

The living wall trembled.

Then--crack--her knee drove through a segment, and a whole row of Jacinthas went flying. She bulldozed through it like it was made of paper dolls. Clones burst apart, limbs snapping, bodies splattering, and as each one died, it began to rapidly decompose into steaming sludge, while some just exploded into dust.

But not all of them died.

Some clung to her.

Jacintha's clones were already adapting--wrapping around her arms, clinging to her waist, linking together like living chains. One grabbed Atlas' shoulder, another her thigh. More crawled up her back and clamped onto her braids, forming a rope that coiled tighter with every second.

Atlas growled and tried to shake them off, flinging a handful across the fake street. But they kept coming.

Dozens turned to hundreds.

They surged at her in a tide, wrapping around her thighs, locking around her calves. Her movements slowed. She stumbled forward.

Then--boom--she dropped to one knee.

More poured over her like ants on a fallen statue.

Jacintha didn't stop. Her body pumped out clone after clone, the ground littered with twitching duplicates sprinting toward the colossus. They piled on, latched tight, building not just a wall this time, but a tomb.

Atlas vanished beneath the flesh-flood. Her teal-patina skin disappeared under a pulsing mountain of Jacinthas.

The pile wobbled. Twitched.

Then stopped.

For a beat, the room was silent.

"... Okay," came Atlas' voice, muffled beneath the heap. "I surrender."

A few people in the crowd clapped. Others just stared in stunned disbelief.

Zara gave a low whistle. "Damn."

Valentina squealed with delight, her heart-shaped pupils pulsing bright pink. "That! Was! So hot."

Jacintha just stood there, sweaty and naked in front of the chaos, panting slightly as more clones crawled out of her, only to glance around and realize they were no longer needed.

She grinned.

"Mass production wins again."

Part 22

"That was so cool," Skeletina said to Jacintha as the group marched toward their next destination.

"Thanks," Jacintha replied casually.

"You're pretty brave. I wouldn't dare take off my clothes to fight," Skeletina shivered dramatically.

"Well... I kinda have to," Jacintha said. "My power works better this way. If I keep my clothes on, my clones end up tearing them apart while spawning." She gave a little shrug. "Besides, I've gotten used to people seeing me naked, through my clones, at least."

"Ugh! I'm glad my power doesn't come with a nudity clause," Skeletina muttered.

They reached the next room just in time to see the previous group filing out, buzzing with excitement.

"Why are we here, Lexy?" Gaylor asked. "This is the library, not a classroom."

"We know," Lexi said.

"But Miss Elsher has a demonstration show too," Lexy added.

"And apparently, it's really good," Lexie finished.

As they entered, they were immediately hit with a bizarre sight: Jabba the Hutt, right in the middle of the room, getting aggressively choked by Rita the reporter while Max filmed the whole thing from multiple angles. Nearby, a stern-looking librarian watched over the scene like it was completely normal.

"Would you please finish up?" the librarian said to Rita, clearly unimpressed. "The next group is here."

"Almost done," Rita replied. "Max, did you get all the angles?"

"Yep," Max said, still filming.

"Perfect." Rita hopped off Jabba's back and turned toward the new arrivals. "Oh, look who it is. I think we should stick around a bit longer, Max."

The librarian rolled her eyes and pressed a button on a remote. Jabba flickered and vanished--like a hologram.

"Hello, Miss Elsher!" the Lexisters chirped in unison.

"Ah, I was hoping you girls would drop by," the woman said warmly. "And I see most of Aritimi's pupils are here too. Excellent."

Zara tilted her head. "You must be Paige's sister."

She was a near-copy of Paige--same blonde hair in a bun, same glasses, same strict-librarian energy--but dialed up with a distinctly... adult-video aesthetic. Her blouse was just a bit too tight, and her skirt just a bit too short for the average Dewey Decimal enthusiast.

"Yes, I'm Tome Elsher," she confirmed. "And I assume you've already met my mother, Gretchen?"

The girls all nodded.

"Hey, was that Gretchen's simulation tech?" Keller asked as she wheeled herself closer to the front.

"Yes," Tome replied, gesturing to several glowing crystals mounted around the room. "She gave me a few for today. The crystals can project any kind of tangible illusion inside this space."

"And she just gave them to you?" Keller raised an eyebrow. "Those things cost more than my wheelchair."

"To be honest..." Tome chuckled, lowering her voice a little. "I wasn't planning on doing a demo, but then Mom heard about the big reward for best presentation. So she 'loaned' them to me for the day."

More students began flooding into the library behind the girls, chattering with curiosity and excitement.

"Wow," Gaylor whispered, glancing around. "I've never seen this many people in the library before. Not even during exams."

Once the room was full, Tome stepped forward to address the crowd.

"Welcome, everyone!" she said. "Today, thanks to some borrowed high-end projection crystals, we'll be simulating combat scenarios using monsters from the HSA's extensive database."

With a flick of her wrist, a hulking minotaur appeared in the center of the room--life-sized, breathing, and snorting steam.

"They're not just visual either," Tome added, patting the minotaur's shoulder. "They're fully tangible. You can touch, fight, or run from them. Your call."

Keller's astral form drifted lazily in the air above her physical body. "What about Jabba? He's not in the monster database."

"Oh, right!" Tome laughed. "That's part of the extended feature set. With astral projection overlays, we can even fabricate fictional characters. The AI won't be accurate beyond visuals and basic behavior, so... no, we can't make Thanos snap away half the monsters. I tried."

"Cool!" Keller beamed. "Can we actually fight them?"

"You mean, a real fight?" Tome asked. "Well, the only reason I let Miss Razzo throw down with Jabba earlier is because I disabled the AI. Otherwise, these projections will fight back."

Keller shrugged, pointing at her motionless body in the chair. "You don't have to worry about me. I'll use my astral form. My body stays safe no matter what happens."

Tome hesitated, then nodded. "Alright. As long as it's your choice."

"It is."

"Okay then," Tome turned to the crowd. "While I go through some quick paperwork with our brave volunteer, feel free to browse the character list on the database. You'll find everything from goblins to gods."

She pointed to her laptop, which glowed faintly from its crystal-powered connection.

A few minutes later, Keller signed the papers while the others gathered around Tome's laptop, browsing the character list.

"Now get yourself ready, Keller," Tome said, sliding the papers aside.

"Are you sure about this?" Zara asked, glancing at Keller's motionless body in the chair.

"Yeah," Keller nodded, her ghostly projection floating just above the ground. "I want to prove that I can be a real threat if I need to be."

"Everyone!" Tome raised her voice. "Clear the center for Keller's match!"

The crowd moved back quickly, giving her room.

"Ready?" Tome asked.

"Almost. I want to use my strongest form."

Keller closed her eyes. Her astral body descended, feet touching the floor for the first time. A soft pulse of light rippled out from her chest. Her projection began to change--her form solidifying, gaining weight and presence, like a spirit pulling on the threads of the living world.

"Now I'm in my strongest form," she announced. Strangely, her astral body no longer looked translucent; she looked like a normal flesh-and-blood person, a naked one.

Her skin was as pale as an albino's, matching her long, white mane. Her ribs were faintly visible on her sides. Her breasts were cute C-cups, with dark pink nipples. Her stomach was concave. Her white pubic hair was shaved into an arrow pointing down.

"Um... Keller... Why are you naked?" Akemi asked.

"I've stripped my astral self down to its purest state," Keller explained. "No distractions. No fabric. Just raw projection. It makes me stronger, but I can't hold it for long."

The crowd clearly had no issues with her nude form. Whistles could be heard, and she liked the attention.

"Oh, I think I should do a little stretching before the fight begins," she said with a smirk.

The room grew quieter as everyone focused on the pale beauty before them. She leaned to one side, placing her left hand on the floor and reaching her right hand high up in the air. Her body bent gracefully, and the muscles in her arm flexed as she held the pose, her long hair brushing the ground. The curve of her spine was pronounced, drawing the eye to the plump roundness of her asscheeks.

Then she transitioned into a lunge, her right leg stretched out behind her. Her left hand remained planted, her breasts jiggling slightly as she leaned into the stretch, her pink nipples brushing against the cool floor tiles.

Next, she bent over at the waist, reaching for her toes with her fingers. Her spine curved in a perfect arch, showcasing the tightness of her abdomen and the way her buttocks clenched. A few of the boys couldn't help but stare, their eyes drawn to the way her cheeks parted slightly, revealing a hint of the pinkness between them.

She then stood up with her hands on her hips, and leaned backward, her breasts thrusting forward as she gazed up at the ceiling. The sight was mesmerizing, and even some of the girls found themselves admiring the confidence and poise with which she presented herself.

Then, with the grace of a ballet dancer, she shifted into a full split. Her legs were perfectly straight, her toes pointed, and her torso upright. Her breasts remained high and firm, the tension in her body highlighting their shape.

"Wow! You got some good poses," Zara exclaimed.

"Thanks," Keller said with a faint smile. "It's mostly the projection. I doubt my real body could pull this off, even if it were working."

"I'm ready now," Keller announced a little bit later, "bring it on."

Tome approached the laptop and tapped a few keys. The crystal glowed brightly, humming with magical resonance as streams of light shot from its base toward the center of the room. The air shimmered like a heatwave, and within seconds, a figure began to take shape from the luminous haze.

She stood tall, poised with natural grace and rugged confidence. Her sun-kissed skin glowed under the lights, perfectly complementing her toned, athletic build. She wore a tight turquoise tank top that clung to her chest, emphasizing her firm bust. Her brown shorts were snug, sitting low on her hips, showing off powerful thighs and smooth, muscular legs. A belt with a small pouch hugged her waist, and black leather boots reached halfway up her calves. Fingerless gloves wrapped around her hands, and a classic pair of pistols rested in holsters on both sides of her hips. Her long chestnut hair was tied back in a practical braid, swaying behind her with every movement.

She looked around the room coolly, her full lips curled in a faint smirk, and her piercing brown eyes gleamed with confident intelligence.

"Wait..." Keller squinted at the woman. "Is that... Lara Croft?"

Tome gave a guilty little smile. "Yeah. This is the fifth time I've seen her today. I can switch her to someone else if you want."

Keller grinned. "Oh, I'm flattered they think I can take on a legendary treasure hunter in booty shorts."

The walls of the library flickered as the simulation began, the bookshelves morphing away as the space widened into a simulated jungle ruin arena, complete with stone pillars, broken statues, and creeping vines.

Lara moved first. She sprang into action with a smooth, athletic grace, drawing both pistols from her hips in a single fluid motion. She didn't hesitate. With a sharp bang, the first shot rang out.

Keller barely twisted out of the way, the bullet grazing her hip and spinning her to the side.

"Shit, she's fast!" Keller hissed, regaining her footing and pulling her hands up defensively. The pain was real in her astral form--dull and echoing, but very present.

Lara didn't wait. She advanced quickly, firing again--bang, bang, bang--forcing Keller to dive behind a broken pillar. A bullet struck her shoulder mid-leap, spinning her in the air. Another grazed her side.

Keller grunted as she hit the ground. She rolled, then pushed up with her hands, scowling.

"You guys really picked a hard mode," she called to the watching boys, who only looked more excited.

Lara appeared above her suddenly, having vaulted off a broken statue. She aimed down, point-blank.

Keller twisted with impossible speed and slammed her palm into Lara's boot mid-air, psychically pushing the projection off-balance. Lara flipped and landed, but Keller was up now.

A glowing ripple passed through Keller's astral body--her focused energy beginning to intensify.

Lara didn't give her a break. Another shot rang out, and this time Keller screamed as her right pinky finger burst off in a flash of light. It evaporated like mist.

Her eyes narrowed.

"You know, I always liked you," Keller growled. "But this is personal now."

She dashed forward, and Lara opened fire again. One shot caught Keller in the cheek, blasting out her right eye in a splash of glowing ectoplasm. Keller stumbled, momentarily blinded on one side--but still moving.

Lara reloaded smoothly, but Keller struck first.

She threw an invisible wave of force with both hands, lifting Lara off the ground and slamming her into a stone slab. The pistols flew from her hands.

"Not so smug without your guns, huh?" Keller hissed, charging.

Lara spun up, fists ready. The two clashed in a flurry of blows--Lara precise and brutal, Keller graceful but desperate, her long pale limbs snapping like whips as she tried to overpower the projection.

A hard knee to the stomach made Keller stagger. She retaliated by grabbing a piece of stone debris with her telekinesis and hurling it like a missile. It struck Lara square in the back, sending her sprawling.

Before Lara could rise, Keller's hand shot forward. With an astral roar, she drove her palm into the center of Lara's chest, and a shockwave of psychic energy exploded outward.

Lara's body crackled and shimmered--then shattered into glowing fragments of data, dissolving like glass blown into dust.

Silence filled the room for a beat.

Then cheering.

Keller stood panting.

"Holy crap, that was awesome!" Gaylor shouted.

"I think I'm in love," one of the boys muttered.

Keller, despite looking like a wreck, smirked proudly. "Told you. I'm more than just the girl in the chair."

Tome clapped once, grinning. "Well done, Keller. That's the kind of fire the HSA needs."

"Thanks," Keller shot her a smile, "but I have to admit that the reason I was this strong against her is because everything was an astral projection there; otherwise, I couldn't affect her and the environment like that."

"Anyways, that was a great demonstration of power," Tome nodded.

"Wait," Keller stopped her, "can you bring Lara back?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"I'm not finished with her, yet," Keller smiled ominously.

Tome chuckled, nodded, and typed a few more commands into her laptop. The crystal flared again, and Lara's image began to coalesce in the center of the arena. The cheers grew louder, anticipation crackling in the air as the projection took shape.

"Now, erase her clothes," Keller said, but it was more of a command.

"What?"

"Just do it!"

Tome quickly complied with Keller's request, typing in a command that made the audience gasp as Lara Croft's iconic outfit shimmered away, leaving her naked before them all.

"Hell yeah!" somebody exclaimed.

Lara's body was a masterpiece of digital craftsmanship. Her breasts were high and firm, her areolae a dark, tempting brown. Her abs were washboard tight, leading down to her neatly shaved sex. Her hips were broad and strong, and her buttocks perfectly rounded.

"Hey! Where are my clothes?" Lara gasped, covering herself in embarrassment.

"Where are your clothes? Where is my finger and my eye?" Keller said, pointing to the spot where her pinky and eye used to be.

Keller then picked up one of the fake metal shackles that were projected by the crystal as a set piece for the location.

"You're going to regret messing with me," she said, advancing towards Lara.

The naked treasure hunter tried to resist, but Keller's astral form was too fast and too strong, as she was powered by rage. With a swift motion, she swung the metal shackles around Lara's wrists, securing them tightly behind her back.

"Um... Keller... What are you planning to do with her?" Zara asked.

"You will find out soon," Keller's astral mouth smirked. "Now let me focus my power."

Then her astral form began to flicker, and something started to form in her genital area. A cock! A long, meaty one sprang out from her groin. It was 12 inches long and just as pale as the rest of her body.

"Keller... that's a..." Zara gasped.

"Futanari mode, baby," she winked.

"How did you do that?"

"I loved how the angel twins managed to do that, so I tried it. Now I'm able to reshape my astral form into a futanari version of myself," she explained.

Then she began stroking it, making it hard in an instant.

"Record everything, Max. I want every square inch of the schlong to be recorded." Rita barked.

"No no no no!" Lara's eyes widened as she looked at the massive member growing from Keller's body. "What is this sorcery?"

"It's called an ace up my sleeve," Keller said with a smirk. She stepped closer to the struggling Lara, the head of her cock bobbing with excitement. "Tomb Raider, I introduce you to the Womb Raider."

She then pulled Lara to one of the desks. The students parted, making room for the unusual spectacle. Lara's naked body was sweaty and trembling with fear, but she remained silent as Keller effortlessly manhandled her.

With her next move, she pushed Lara onto one of the desks, face-first. She was lying on her stomach and knees, her round ass sticking up in the air.

Then she parted Lara's cheeks with her hands and laid her cock between them.

"Nice buns," she smirked as she pressed Lara's ass cheeks against the sides of her shaft, hotdogging her.

Her cock was like a veiny, white sausage between two brown buns.

"Hey, Tome," she called out, "can you simulate me some lube?"

Tome typed in something on the laptop, and a moment later, a bottle of glowing blue liquid appeared on the desk. "Thanks," Keller nodded and squirted a big load across her shaft.

Lara began to squirm as Keller smeared the lube along her tight, shapely cheeks. She tried to struggle, but the bonds held firm.

"Please, no!" Lara begged, but Keller was merciless.

"Yes, please," one of the boys grinned.

With a sadistic grin, Keller positioned herself behind Lara's bound form. She coated her cock with the glowing blue lube. She took a moment to appreciate the projection's firm, rounded buttocks.

"You're going to take this," Keller murmured. "And you're going to enjoy it."

With a swift, deliberate move, she pushed her cock against Lara's tight, unyielding pussy. Lara's body tensed, but Keller held her in place as she applied more and more pressure. The tip of her cock slipped into the digital projection's pussy with a wet sound. Lara's astral scream of pain was ear-piercing.

Keller's eyes closed with pleasure as she felt the hot, tight embrace of Lara's body around her cock. The sensation was eerily real. She took her time, savoring every inch as she penetrated deeper, feeling the muscles clench and release around her shaft.

Lara's cries filled the room. Despite the simulation, Keller's expression remained cold and determined. She knew it was just a projection, but the act was as real as any physical encounter in this room.

She thrust into Lara, her hips moving in a rhythm that grew steadier and more punishing by the second. Lara's body jolted with every penetration, and the desk she was bent over, shaking and squeaking under the force. Keller's cock slid in and out of the projection's cunt with ease, the blue lube leaving a glowing trail each time it emerged.

The crowd watched in stunned silence. Some had turned away, their faces flushed with embarrassment or disgust. Others couldn't tear their eyes away, transfixed by the macabre dance of the naked figures.

Keller's strokes grew more vigorous, her cock plunging deeper into Lara with every thrust. Her body jerked and convulsed, the illusion of pain etched into her face. Sweat beaded on her brow, her astral eyes squeezed shut in artificial agony.

The room was tense, a mix of revulsion and morbid curiosity painted on the faces of the onlookers. The sound of wet, rhythmic slapping filled the air as Keller's hips collided with Lara's firm, toned cheeks. Despite the horror of the situation, a few of the boys couldn't help but admire the power and dominance on display.

Lara squirmed and writhed beneath Keller's relentless assault, her lifelike flesh stretching and contracting around the intrusive phallus. But Keller was lost in the moment, her face a mask of fierce concentration as she pumped into Lara's tight orifice.

The simulated body jolted with each thrust, her breasts bouncing with the rhythm of Keller's brutal rape. Her digital skin was slick with sweat, the lines of her abs standing out sharply as she was pinned to the desk, her digital cries echoing off the walls of the library-turned-combat-simulator-turned-rape dungeon.

"Hey, Tome," Keller turned to her, "can you make her body a little bit see-through at her stomach area around her womb?"

A few more keystrokes and Lara's stomach grew transparent, revealing her digital insides--her womb pulsating with each thrust, Keller's cock visible in it now.

"Oh my God! An X-ray shot in real life!" one of the boys exclaimed.

The sight of Keller's cock moving in and out of Lara's see-through stomach was mesmerizingly disturbing. The digital muscles and organs inside her body stretched and contracted with each thrust, giving the illusion of a real, physical interaction.

"Nice! Can you also make something with this crying?"

Another few strokes and Lara began moaning like a pornstar.

Lara's face also switched from agony to pleasure, her eyes rolling back as she began to moan with every thrust.

"Oh yes, Keller," Lara's voice moaned, her face now a mask of pleasure instead of pain. "Give it to me, baby."

"Um... Rita. Can we post this? That's actual pornography now?" Max asked, zooming in on the astral duo.

"Hmm... I think this one will go into the members-only playlist," Rita murmured.

Keller's strokes grew more intense, her entire astral body shivering with the effort. The room was thick with the scent of the illusionary sweat and lube, the sound of their astral bodies slapping together.

"I'm going to cum," she grunted through gritted teeth, her eyes never leaving Lara's contorted, yet now pleasure-filled face.

With a roar that seemed to shake the very fabric of Keller's astral body, her cock erupted inside the digital woman, spurting a torrent of glowing white cum that filled her womb. The projection's body quivered and arched upwards, a silent scream of ecstasy frozen on her lips as she was filled with Keller's essence. The audience watched in a mix of shock and awe as the semen gushed out from Lara's pussy, running down her legs and pooling on the floor.

"Wow, that was... wild," Keller chuckled and pulled her cock out of Lara, but she got so weak at this point, her phallus dissolved like mist.

The audience applauded, their shock gradually giving way to awe.

"Do you also do birthday parties?" Bambi asked, looking at Keller.

"Maybe... why?" she asked.

"My little brother will turn eighteen next week, and he loves futanaris."

"Agh, nothing's better than a loving sister," Zara quipped.

Part 23

"That was wild," Quincy said, patting the shoulder of Keller's physical body as they wheeled her toward the next location.

"Thanks," Keller replied, her voice faint. Her astral form had regenerated, but it barely looked substantial, flickering like a dying flame.

"How did you get this strong?" Skeletina asked, eyeing her with curiosity.

"Aritimi's special sexual training helped me a lot," Keller explained. "Wanna try it?"

"Um... no."

"I wanna try fighting with your astral form," Quincy said.

"Sure," Keller nodded weakly, "but don't cry if I beat you."

"Ha ha! Sure, just don't rape me after the fight."

"I can't promise that, you are hot," Keller chuckled.

"Where are we going now?" Gaylor asked, glancing around. "This part of the school doesn't look familiar."

"We're heading to a very important place," Lexi announced.

"The most important one," added Lexy.

"Which also happens to be the best one," Lexie finished.

"We're going to check out the cheer squad's training room," Gaylor guessed.

"What? How did you figure that out?" Lexy gasped.

"Hm... maybe I've got a sixth sense for this stuff," Gaylor said with a smirk.

Lexi opened the door for the group while Lexy and Lexie stood on either side like ceremonial guards.

Inside was a mid-sized sports hall with a standard parquet floor. It wasn't particularly flashy, but it was already packed with students--mostly boys--watching a full team of cheerleaders practicing elaborate routines.

The Lexisters immediately ran ahead toward the woman overseeing the training.

"Ah, I thought you girls would be too busy now that you're Aritimi's pupils," the coach greeted them with a warm smile.

"Nah, we always make time for you, Miss Margrave!" the Lexisters sang out in unison.

"Oh, and these must be your friends--the other pupils," she said, glancing at Zara and the rest of the group.

"Everyone, meet our coach, mentor, and best friend: Regina Margrave," the Lexisters beamed as they made the introduction.

"Margrave? As in, like, the Principal?" Akemi asked.

"Yes," Regina nodded, "the Principal is my mother, and Reberta is my sister."

It was a needed clarification--Regina looked nothing like her mother or sister.

The only family trait she seemed to share was their blonde hair. Reberta was morbidly obese, and Venus even more grotesquely so. But Regina was the picture of athletic perfection.

She wore the same blue-and-white uniform as the other girls, though it looked more like a performance outfit on her. Her round, bubble butt was nearly on full display beneath the short skirt, and her top strained to contain her full breasts, the undersides peeking out as she moved. Her hair was pulled into a high ponytail, just like the Lexisters and the rest of the squad.

"We were just about to start our show. You're welcome to stay and watch," Regina offered, turning back to the group with a grin.

"Yeah, of course!" Akemi said immediately, and several others nodded eagerly.

"Oh? Where's the rest of the squad?" Lexi asked, scanning the practicing cheerleaders. "I only see your daughter."

"... Yeah," Regina sighed, "That was her idea. She said she could handle the demonstration better on her own."

"What do you mean?" Zara frowned. "There are, like, a dozen girls out there."

"Not really," Lexy replied with a grin.

"That's just one girl," Lexie clarified. "Number Margrave--and her duplicates."

Zara looked again. The girls did look eerily alike--same height, same curvy body type, same blonde ponytail bouncing in perfect sync. Their smiles were identical, their eyes equally fierce. Compared to their athletic mother, they bore a closer resemblance to their aunt and grandmother. Not obese like them, just... plush, soft in a way that made the resemblance unmistakable.

"Oh, so she can clone herself--like me!" Jacintha piped up.

Lexi shook her head. "Nope."

"Her power comes from a Dozen Demon," Lexy explained. "It's a little imp-like monster that can split into twelve independent versions of itself."

"Her copies have their own minds," Lexie added, "and they're not easy to get rid of. Think normal human durability, not fragile projections like yours."

"Okay, that's actually kinda cool," Jacintha admitted.

Regina laughed dryly. "Cool? Try feeding eleven extra mouths. She treats her copies like her sisters."

"Yeah, that's... weird," Jacintha said, raising a brow.

"And it gets weirder," Lexi smirked. "They all have government paperwork now."

"Seriously?" Akemi blinked. "That's legal?"

"Oh, it is," Regina nodded. "My daughter's full legal name is Number One Margrave, and the others go by Number Two through Twelve. I pulled some strings with a friend at HQ's legal office. Now her copies have human rights. She asked for this on her eighteenth birthday, and, honestly? That was easier than the other option, a pet unicorn."

Before anyone could respond, a chorus of voices rang out behind them.

"Well, well, well."

The group turned to see Number and her eleven duplicates walking toward them in perfect formation. Their matching outfits were identical to Regina's and the Lexisters'--tight crop tops and micro-skirts.

"You came to see how real cheerleaders do it?" they asked in perfect sync, eyes scanning the group but pointedly ignoring the Lexisters.

"Oh please," Lexi scoffed, flipping her ponytail as she stepped forward. "Real cheerleaders? You think synchronized smugness counts as talent?"

"Yeah, just because you multiplied yourself doesn't mean you multiplied the skills," Lexy added, crossing her arms.

Lexie tilted her head, smirking. "We were doing formations before you were legally twelve people."

The Numbers fanned out slightly, moving like one creature with twelve bodies. Number One stepped ahead of the pack, hips swaying with deliberate flair. "We didn't come here to trade words with backup dancers."

"Oh-hoh!" Quincy chuckled, backing up with both hands raised. "This is getting spicy."

"I'd choose your next words carefully," Lexy warned, stepping in close. "We don't just cheer. We dominate."

"Then prove it," Number said, flashing a grin that all her sisters instantly mirrored. "Let's settle this. One match. Pose for pose. Style, strength, synchronization. You three... against us twelve."

"A pose-off?" Lexie said, raising a brow. "You're on."

Zara leaned toward Akemi. "Is that, like, a real thing?"

"In cheer culture? Oh yeah," Akemi whispered back. "It's like a dance battle but cattier."

Regina sighed dramatically and stepped between the two groups, though clearly enjoying the drama. "Alright, alright, if you're gonna go feral over it, at least do it properly. Standard rules--three rounds, four Numbers in each. Audience applause decides the winner per round. Final fourth round at the end if needed. You all know the drill."

The Lexisters nodded.

"Get ready," Lexi said.

"To witness," Lexy added.

"A cheerquake," Lexie finished.

The floor cleared, and the crowd waited for the show. Regina clapped twice, and the school's speaker system kicked in with a bass-heavy track--something with stomps, claps, and lots of attitude.

From the left side, the Lexisters stepped forward in perfect unison--Lexi in the lead, Lexy and Lexie flanking her. Their steps were sharp, deliberate, and mirrored perfectly. As they reached center court, they spun in sync, dropped into a low crouch, then rose with fists in the air like a comic book splash panel.

"Triple Snap!" they shouted--it was one of their signature openers.

They launched into a fast-paced routine of aggressive power poses: high kicks ending in one-foot balances, flexed biceps with synchronized winks, exaggerated hip pops and finger snaps. Lexi spun low, Lexy leapt high, Lexie leaned back with a sharp hair flip--all at once, forming a clean triangle formation.

Their final pose of the round: Lexi in front with her leg extended forward and arm flexed like a pin-up hero, Lexy and Lexie behind her on either side in deep lunges, arms crossed over their chests, heads tilted just enough to let their ponytails swing dramatically. The crowd whooped.

Then it was the Numbers' turn.

From the right side, Numbers One to Four marched in step, their eyes locked forward. They didn't bother with personality or flair--just mechanical, flawless execution. Their movements were tight, efficient, military-precise.

They began with a slow rotation--each one turning on her heel, striking a pose in perfect delay: one after the other, forming a rotating wave of motion that looped cleanly twice. Then they exploded into a fast routine: backflips, splits, simultaneous hair flips, and gravity-defying cheer stunts with zero hesitation. The four of them stacked into a living pyramid mid-routine, dismounted, and re-aligned into a row with split legs and high V-arms like a mirror image of each other.

The crowd went silent for a beat, then erupted into a roar of cheers. Even the Lexisters had to nod in reluctant appreciation.

"Score goes to the Numbers!" Regina announced, arms raised.

Lexi gritted her teeth. "Okay. Warm-up's over."

Lexy smirked. "They want precision?"

Lexie cracked her neck. "Let's give them passion next round."

The bassline of the next track hit low and slow--sultry and teasing. The lights dimmed slightly, casting a soft pink hue across the floor. The mood had changed, and the Lexisters were ready.

Lexi winked to the crowd as she strut forward, hips swaying with exaggerated confidence. Lexy and Lexie followed her like backup dancers to a pop diva. Their movements were no longer sharp--they were fluid, teasing, playful. Lexi ran her fingers through her hair and flipped it over one shoulder, letting it fall slowly as she blew a kiss to the boys in the front row.

Then--snap!--the three spun into a low, synchronized dip, their backs arched, their chests pushed forward in a deliberate show of confidence. One arm rested behind their heads, the other extended out, fingers curled with diva precision.

They slid across the floor like they owned it, heels clicking, shoulders rolling with rhythm. Lexy gave a dramatic turn, throwing her leg high into a standing split, then slowly lowered herself into a sultry squat. Lexie leaned against Lexi's back, arching with a practiced moan in her breath, then rolled forward, letting her hands trace her thighs before flaring both arms out into a heart shape.

They ended the sequence with their signature move--the Triple Temptation: Lexi on all fours at the front, Lexy crouched above her back, and Lexie standing tall, flexing a single bicep while blowing a slow, mocking kiss to the Numbers. Their bodies formed a pyramid of power, sass, and sin.

The crowd went feral.

Regina gave a slow clap, nodding with amusement.

The Numbers stepped up next--but something had shifted. Their routine was still tight, clean, acrobatic--but the seductive energy just wasn't there. They tried to match it, rolling their hips in unison, letting their tops ride a bit higher as they twirled, their areolas peeking out. But it wasn't natural--it was a copy of a vibe they didn't quite understand.

And the crowd felt it.

As their final pose snapped into place--four identical cheerleaders kneeling in a V-formation with forced smiles--the applause was noticeably... polite.

Regina stood and raised one hand dramatically.

"Round Two goes to the Lexisters!"

Lexi blew another kiss to the crowd.

Lexy ran a hand down her torso and whispered, "We're just getting started."

Lexie licked her lips and smirked. "Hope they've got more clones, 'cause they're gonna need backup."

The lights pulsed brighter as the music changed again--now a high-energy pop anthem with fast beats and heavy drops. This round was about speed, precision, and impact.

The Numbers were the first to hit the floor.

Four identical girls burst into motion like a machine with perfect choreography. They flipped, kicked, spun, and stuck every landing like professionals. Their curvaceous bodies moved in hypnotic sync, creating symmetrical shapes on the floor--interlocked arms, mirrored jumps, dynamic tumbles that ended in stacked pyramid stances. One stood tall on the others' backs, raising a single fist triumphantly while the other three posed underneath her like the base of a living statue.

Their finale hit like a drumbeat--boom boom boom boom--each of them sliding to a split in one perfect ripple of motion, arms spread wide as if saying: Beat that.

The applause was thunderous.

"Damn..." Quincy muttered. "That was tight."

"They're more than just clones," Irish admitted. "They've trained like soldiers."

But then the Lexisters stepped out--and they were glowing with competitive fire.

No warm-up. No delay.

Lexi shouted, "Formation Alpha!" and the girls launched forward like rockets.

Where the Numbers had been all about technical mastery, the Lexisters focused on attitude and impact. Their synchronized flips weren't just clean--they were wild. Lexy did a one-handed cartwheel while Lexie slid beneath her, back arching, hair flying.

They used the entire floor like it was a stage, switching places mid-jump, posing with just enough snap to shake the floor. They danced like they were fighting, elbows and knees flying with stylish aggression.

Then came their big trick: The Triple Spiral.

Lexi spun on one leg in a slow, elegant twirl while Lexy launched off Lexie's back into a spinning kick, landing perfectly on beat. Then all three leapt, flipped, and landed back to back, forming a rotating triangle of flexed arms, popping legs, and flawless grins.

The final pose was daring--Lexy hoisted Lexi in the air while Lexie supported from behind, their bodies stacked diagonally like a twisted human sculpture.

The crowd exploded.

Akemi was on her feet cheering. Gaylor just whistled low. "That was nasty. In a good way."

Regina stood again, clapping slowly, but this time with a sly smirk.

"I... honestly don't know who to give it to," she said. "Audience?"

The room split into chants:

"NUM-BERS!"

"LEX-IS-TERS!"

The noise rose until the walls echoed.

Regina shrugged, clearly enjoying herself. "Sounds like we've got ourselves a tie."

Lexi cracked her knuckles.

Lexy cracked her neck.

Lexie cracked a wicked grin.

"Final round?" Lexi asked, already bouncing on her toes.

"With all twelve of them?" Lexy added.

"We better bring the big guns," Lexie finished.

As the Numbers regrouped, lining up in a perfect twelve-girl formation, the Lexisters stepped forward and gripped each other's hands.

The gym had gone quiet again. Tension hovered like humidity. Three rounds in, and the scores were even: one win for the Numbers, one for the Lexisters, and one unforgettable tie. Now the final round was here--no more warm-ups, no more teasers. Just one last, jaw-dropping showdown.

Without needing a cue, the Lexisters stepped forward in perfect unison. The trio shared a single look, their smirks spreading wide, and then they began.

Their bodies started to melt--liquefying with slow, sensual ease, like hot wax left out in the sun. Their cheer uniforms slipped off them naturally, puddling around their ankles as the three girls' forms slid down into a single, glistening pool of muscle and curve. It wasn't grotesque--it was mesmerizing, fluid, like watching silk fold into water.

A few steps away, the mass reshaped, rising taller and broader. The form grew legs, then arms, then the tightly coiled core of an athlete carved from marble. Towering above the crowd now stood a woman unlike any other--nearly two heads taller than anyone else in the room. Her skin gleamed, her body a stunning fusion of strength and grace, with thighs that could crush a monster and a waist that could dance around one. Her tits were big and round; her pubic hair was shaved into an "L."

But most striking of all were her three heads--Lexi, Lexy, and Lexie--emerging like a blooming flower from between the shoulders, each with a different expression of smug delight.

Gasps filled the gym.

Then, the music dropped, and the Lexisters moved.

First, Lexi's head launched upward, still tethered to the main body, but stretching high into the air like a striking serpent. Her face twisted into poses mid-flight: flirty wink, fierce snarl, tongue-out smirk--before she snapped back into place with a satisfying slap.

Next, two torsos extended from the sides, each with a head and a pair of arms. They spun in perfect mirror formation, flipping once in midair and catching hands like dancers before gliding back into the body. The crowd oohed and aah'd.

Then came the finale: the massive body dropped low in a wide, feline crouch. Legs braced wide, arms pulled tight to frame her stomach like a sculpture, and then Lexy was ejected from the main body into the air, like a fleshy rocket. She did some poses mid-fall, then merged back into the main body. This was repeated by the other two as well. Then the three heads tilted forward in sync. They delivered a single, unified wink--slow, deliberate, dripping with smugness.

The audience roared.

The Lexisters slinked back with a confident sway, their bare feet padding across the floor as they stepped away from their discarded uniforms.

But the Numbers weren't backing down.

All twelve girls stepped forward and, in a blink, merged back into one. The single, full-bodied Number Margrave emerged, her outfit left in a neat pile behind her. She stretched her limbs, cracked her neck, then grinned at the crowd--nude and proud. The curvy confidence ran in the family.

And then, with a dramatic breath, she burst apart again--twelve bodies springing out like an unfolding deck of cards.

But they didn't spread. Instead, they climbed.

The first Number flipped onto her hands. The second balanced delicately on the soles of the first's upturned feet. The third locked her hands around the second's and inverted herself, creating a staggered mirror stack. The fourth climbed atop, standing straight. Then came the fifth, locking hands with the fourth.

And it kept going. Six, seven, eight...

By the time the eleventh balanced in place, the gym was dead silent. A human tower of curvy, naked blondies reaching to the ceiling.

Finally, the twelfth girl flipped upward and landed perfectly at the top, arms stretched to the heavens, a smirk on her lips.

For a moment, it held. A tower of temptation. A dozen curvy beauties. Their asses were plump, their tits were huge and sagging a little bit with their natural weight, their pussies were shaved with only a neat triangle above them.

Then--a twitch. The seventh clone wobbled. The fifth shifted her weight. Gasps echoed.

And then--collapse.

The structure buckled and crumbled, one clone falling into another. Limbs tangled, torsos collided, and all twelve crashed to the floor in a pile of soft skin and loud groans. The audience winced... then burst into laughter and applause.

Impressive? Yes. Successful? Not quite.

The Lexisters' towering merged form stepped back onto the floor, towering over the messy pile of Numbers. Lexi gave a mock-sympathetic pout.

"Well, that stacked up poorly."

Lexy stretched one bulky arm, flexing for the crowd. "Nice try though. Maybe next time, keep it horizontal."

Lexie ran a hand down their shared hip, grinning. "Anyway... we win."

They strutted back to their uniform pile, hips swinging, still fused, still glowing with victory. The audience gave them a standing ovation.

From the sidelines, Regina clapped with a sigh. "You girls are going to be the death of me."

And the final round was over. Result? An undeniable victory for the Lexisters.

Part 24

"Wow, that was amazing, girls," Akemi said as they walked along the corridor.

"Ooooh," Lexi cooed dramatically.

"We're gonna blush," Lexy added, fanning herself with mock modesty.

"Inflating our ego is the last thing we need," Lexie said--though her proud smile betrayed how much she enjoyed the praise.

"I'm honestly surprised the Numbers were all okay after that fall," Zara commented.

"Each of them has monster-level durability while they're split," Lexi explained matter-of-factly.

"Hey, what's the next class?" Irish asked, bouncing in place.

"Our next destination is the Para-Zoological Unit's petting zoo," Lexy replied.

"Aha! What a profoundly delightful proposition," Minerva said with a soft smile.

"Thanks! We knew you'd appreciate it," Lexie grinned.

They continued walking together, only to stop in front of a set of tall glass doors that led to the school's yard.

"Alright, ladies," Lexi said, turning back to the group. "We'll need to cut through the yard to reach the next classroom efficiently."

"But fair warning--it looks very different now than it did this morning," Lexy added.

"Because the guests have arrived," Lexie finished.

"Wait--guests? Why are there so many people here?" Zara asked, furrowing her brow.

"The open day grows bigger every year--just like our principal," Lexi said.

"And the fact that Aritimi and her sisters are here adds quite a bit of buzz," Lexy noted.

"Just stay close to us and don't stop for anything," Lexie instructed as they pushed open the doors.

What greeted them was a far cry from the yard Zara had seen that morning. It was filled to the brim with strange figures, humans and monsters alike.

The entire yard felt like a page torn from a fantasy novel--or possibly a fever dream.

Zara's eyes darted everywhere, unable to settle on a single sight. Above them, the sky buzzed with activity. Some people flew under their own power, propelled by augmentations that gave them wings, levitation fields, or trails of clouds that danced like ribbons behind them. Others soared on the backs of monstrous companions--massive birds, bug-winged panthers, and even a few dragon riders circling lazily above the school like hawks eyeing prey.

Near the center of the yard, a giant Dire Giraffe strolled majestically through the crowd. Perched atop its back sat a regal-looking African woman with a spear.

"Wait... is that Ayanda?" Zara blinked. "Yeah! That's her! And she brought her monster partner, Mosi!"

"Oh? I didn't realize you were an expert on international hunters," Akemi said, raising a brow.

"I'm not," Zara admitted, "but I know the big names. She's huge in the South African branch."

As they moved deeper into the chaotic wonderland, they passed a makeshift combat arena--just a ring of glowing salt lines on the grass--where augmented guests tested their powers against each other. One man was sword-fighting with a creature made of hands, while a woman in a frilly dress summoned living mirrors that fought on her behalf. A living shadow tried to wrestle a man made of molten candy.

"Oh! Can we stop here?" Quincy asked, eyes glued to the action.

"Nope. Tight schedule," Lexy said, not even slowing down. "But there'll be time to spar later."

"Good," Quincy nodded, reluctantly peeling her eyes off the arena. "I hope there's a lot of fighting. Some of them look strong."

As the group walked on, they passed a band made entirely of monster musicians--creatures with harp strings for limbs, accordion torsos, and flute noses--serenading a group of guests with oddly catchy music. In the corner of the yard, a floating jellyfish tent glowed like a nightlight, offering "free hugs and psychic readings" to anyone brave enough to enter.

They finally approached a squat, ivy-covered building on the far side of the yard. Even from a distance, Zara could see the sign painted in swirling letters: Para-Zoological Unit -- Petting Habitat and Research Dome.

"Is this one of your classes?" Zara asked, looking at the Lexisters.

"No, it's just an optional class for extra credit," Lexi answered as they entered the building.

As the group stepped through the arched entrance, the air shifted immediately. The buzzing chaos of the yard outside was replaced by something else entirely--an almost overwhelming atmosphere of curious sounds, rich scents, and soft lighting that gave everything a slight dreamlike glow.

It was less a classroom and more a biosphere.

The interior opened into a vast dome, the ceiling high and transparent, letting natural light beam down onto strange trees, artificial hills, and flowing streams filled with colorful, swimming organisms that occasionally leapt out of the water and laughed. Yes--laughed.

Dozens of students wandered through the space in small groups, each of them accompanied by at least one peculiar creature.

One girl was brushing the shaggy fur of what looked like a cross between a lion cub and a dandelion puff. Every time she pet it, it released a small cloud of glittering spores into the air and let out a content purring chirp.

Nearby, a boy wrestled with a squid-legged bulldog that barked in Morse code and occasionally turned translucent when it got excited.

A trio of students played fetch with a two-headed fox-snake hybrid. One head growled while the other whined, and the moment the stick was thrown, both heads tried to go in different directions--resulting in a tangled mess of coils and teeth.

Zara blinked as a floating jellyfish-cat drifted lazily past her head, its gelatinous body trailing silky, iridescent ribbons that tickled her nose. "Bless you," the creature said politely as she sneezed.

"Oh my god, this place is weird," Quincy grinned. "I love it."

Minerva, however, looked utterly serene, her eyes glittering with fascination. "Exquisite," she murmured, adjusting her glasses as she took in the strange ecosystem. "A true symbiosis of bioethology and ontological speculation... I may faint from admiration."

Akemi reached out to scratch a small, slug-like thing perched on a student's shoulder. It shivered happily, then sprouted tiny butterfly wings and zipped off toward a glowing fruit tree.

"I think that one tried to bond with you," Irish giggled.

Before anyone could respond, a hush fell over the students nearby.

From the far side of the dome, a large door creaked open with a mechanical shh-chunk.

"Hello, everyone," said a cheerful, completely naked woman as she strode into the dome. Her entrance didn't faze the students--clearly, she was a familiar sight--but Zara and her friends all did a synchronized double-take.

She was unmistakably another Hart sister.

"I see we've got some fresh faces," she said, her eyes glinting as she looked over Zara's group. "Welcome! I'm Uma Hart, your Para-Zoological instructor. And yes, I'm a Human--Tikbalang hybrid."

Uma was long-limbed and sinewy, her wiry body moving with a bounce and swagger that seemed more gallop than walk. Her skin was a glossy warm brown, with a shine that gave her the look of a racehorse freshly groomed for show. She had exaggerated proportions--long torso, even longer legs--and moved like someone whose body had more joints than normal.

Black velvet horse ears twitched attentively atop her head, catching distant sounds no one else could hear. Her hair was pulled into a jet-black ponytail braided with tiny golden bells that jingled faintly with her movements. A sleek black tail swished behind her, emoting with every flick. Her blue eyes were wild and intelligent, like a mischievous fae, their horizontal pupils scanning the room with quick, analytical flicks.

She radiated energy like she might break into a sprint at any second--or leap straight over the dome's ceiling.

Over the next several minutes, Uma enthusiastically introduced them to a rotating selection of strange beasts. Each creature came with a name, habitat origin, emotional disposition, and advice on what not to do if encountered in the wild.

One was a bushy, feathered creature that looked like a cross between a raccoon and a parrot--its tail mimicked bird calls. Another was a rock-skinned lizard with dozens of eyes around its neck that blinked in independent rhythms. One student sat cross-legged with a floating worm-loop hovering around her head like a halo, giving her what Uma called "temporary higher empathy."

Everyone was listening attentively.

Everyone except Minerva.

She stood ramrod straight, arms crossed behind her back like a professor evaluating a dissertation, and frequently interrupted. "I believe the study by Vargas-Kimura in '23 revised that classification," she noted when Uma mentioned a beast's aggression patterns. "Also, that specimen is miscategorized; it's a symbiote, not a parasite."

After the lecture wrapped up, Uma trotted--yes, literally trotted--over to her. "Let me guess," she said, tilting her head with a toothy grin. "You're Aritimi's pupil... and you must be Minerva."

"That is correct," Minerva replied with a small, proud nod.

"I've heard plenty about you from Tomato," Uma chuckled. "Her son's your boyfriend, right?"

Minerva blushed faintly but stood firm. "Indeed. We are mutually entangled."

Meanwhile, Zara caught sight of Rita and Max a few meters away. They were filming an absurdly fluffy, spider-like creature that was dancing upright on four legs while spinning yarn out of its rear like a cotton candy machine.

"A bit of cuteness for the feed," Rita whispered, carefully framing the shot. "This one's gonna slap."

"I'm usually terrified of spiders," Max admitted as he zoomed in, "but this one's kind of adorable."

Zara raised an eyebrow. "Did you develop a sixth sense that lets you always find us?"

"Not yet," Rita replied with a sly grin, "but I'm working on it."

"Alright, my little beasties," Uma clapped her hands with a jingle of her hair-bells, "time to move on. Follow me--we're heading to the lower wing."

The class obediently followed as she led them down a curving ramp at the side of the dome. The lights dimmed slightly as they descended, replaced with warm ambient glows that mimicked cave light. The soundscape changed too--no longer cheerful student chatter, but distant rumbles, growls, and the occasional monstrous screech.

"This section isn't part of the petting zoo," Uma said over her shoulder. "This is the real zoo. The rowdy ones. The ones with teeth, acid spit, or just really bad table manners."

The lower level opened up into a wide corridor lined with high-tech enclosures. Reinforced transparent fences, glowing perimeter sensors, and signs with multiple warning icons gave the place a far more clinical vibe. Each enclosure had a viewing panel and a holo-plaque with species info.

Zara slowed down to look.

In one cell, a three-headed snake-dragon hybrid slept coiled around a rock that oozed fog. Its left head snored; the right head stared at nothing with wide, unblinking eyes. The middle one wore a permanent scowl, as if it disapproved of the other two's behavior.

Next was a massive plant-creature resembling a tree, except it breathed slowly, its bark undulating with each inhale. Its roots snaked around a pool of water that hissed with caustic steam.

Then there was what looked like a floating starfish the size of a child. It blinked all over its limbs and released bursts of glittery spores whenever someone looked directly at it.

"Don't worry," Uma said cheerfully, not slowing down. "They're all perfectly safe. Well... contained, anyway."

Eventually, they arrived at a smaller, circular fenced area near the back. Unlike the high-tech habitats, this one was just a waist-high ring of sturdy wood and metal--low effort, no glamour.

And it housed a single, confused-looking monster.

Inside stood a donkey-sized creature with a dusty gray coat and thick, clumsy limbs. It looked normal--at first. But then it turned.

And turned again.

Because both ends of the creature were identical.

It had no head. Or rather, it had two butts. Two identical hindquarters, two tails swishing in opposite directions, four legs shuffling forward--or maybe backward, depending on your perspective.

Zara blinked. "Is that...?"

"Yes," Uma said brightly, throwing her arms up like a magician revealing her masterpiece. "This, dear students, is an Arse Ass."

There was a moment of silence. And then giggles. Snorts. A poorly muffled shriek of laughter from Quincy.

"It's a lesser para-equine anomaly," Uma went on, unfazed. "One of the few creatures that can genuinely confuse predators simply by existing. No front, no head, no eyes, no mouth. And yet--it moves. It eats. It... functions."

"Which end does it poop from?" Irish whispered. Minerva elbowed her.

"Both," Uma answered cheerfully.

The Arse Ass took a few awkward steps--more like a shuffle--and then slowly sat down. Which was also just... squatting.

"I have several questions," Akemi said slowly.

"You and the rest of the scientific community," Uma said with a proud grin.

The butt-beast paced within its enclosure with both ends twitching in irritated unison. Its tails flicked rapidly, thumping the air with increasing frustration. Every now and then, one leg or another kicked out blindly.

"... Is it just me," Zara said, tilting her head, "or does it seem kinda... agitated?"

"It's not just you," Akemi agreed, stepping back as one tail whipped near the fence.

Uma clucked her tongue. "Ah, yes. I was afraid of that. Poor thing needs milking."

"Milking?!" Zara blinked, then she noticed something... well, two things. The monster had an erect cock at both ends.

"Oh yes," Uma nodded as if it were the most normal thing in the world. "He was rescued from poachers, and we have no mating partner for him, yet."

Irish raised a hand. "I'm sorry, did you just say..."

"Jerking him off? Yes," she nodded.

"Can't a professional do it?" Akemi asked, eyes narrowing. "This feels... advanced."

"It is," Uma said cheerfully. "I wanted to... khm... milk him, but looks like he doesn't trust me because I'm also an equine creature and maybe thinks I'm trying to attack him. He is quite dangerous because an Arse Ass can kick from both ends, the procedure must be done simultaneously, by two handlers with excellent timing, balance, and strong glutes of their own. Usually, my sisters help with this, but they are busy today."

"Strong what now?" Irish asked, incredulous.

"Glutes," Uma repeated. "You need to squat and hold the position the whole time while avoiding reflexive kicks. Oh, and it must be done in complete synchronization. If the rhythm's off, the beast gets nervous."

A long pause hung in the air. No one spoke.

Then, Minerva raised a calm hand.

"I shall volunteer for the task," she said coolly, adjusting her glasses. "My timing and coordination are unrivaled. I imagine this will be, at most, a brisk exercise in anatomical choreography."

Rita immediately stepped up beside her. "Count me in."

Minerva blinked. "I beg your pardon?"

Rita grinned. "Don't worry, I'll keep it classy. Mostly. I always wanted to try something weird, plus this one's got two ends of action."

Uma clapped her hands. "Perfect! One for each cheek, so to speak. Remember: squat, press, squeeze, dodge if necessary. The creature will relax when properly stimulated. You'll feel it."

"Wait. You two are really planning to jerk off that monster?" Max asked.

"Yeah, I always wanted to try something like this, but legally," Rita nodded.

The others backed away to the safety perimeter as the two volunteers stepped into the ring, the Arse Ass shifting nervously, its twin tails lashing like whips.

"Ready?" Uma called.

"I emerged into existence in a perpetual state of preparedness," Minerva replied, slowly lowering into position beside one end.

"Born ready," Rita winked, crouching down beside the other end.

"Wait," Uma said, raising her hands, "This can and will get dirty, so you better take off your clothes first."

Minerva and Rita looked at each other, then shrugged in unison, peeling off their outfits without a second thought.

Minerva's nude body was a work of elegance. Her skin was a pale canvas untouched by the sun. Her breasts, a round pair of C-cups, were firm and high, with pale pink areolae and large, puffy nipples. Her shapely ass and hips looked bigger because of her wasp waist. Her pubic hair was neatly trimmed, save for a very small patch of heart-shaped hair.

Rita's body, in stark contrast, was tanned, likely from a salon. Her short, dark blonde hair was messy as if she was just out of bed, adding to her allure. Her breasts were much bigger and rounder. Her pussy was almost completely shaved, save for a landing strip.

They both got a series of whistles from the male audience, although only Rita seemed to care about it; she even threw some kisses. Minerva just focused on the task.

They were about to begin the "milking," but the Arse Ass immediately kicked into full frenzy mode. Both ends jerked and thrashed, hooves flying dangerously close to their heads. Its twin tails whipped in tight spirals, and it let out a guttural braying snort from somewhere deep in its ambiguous anatomy.

"Easy now!" Rita ducked as a hoof flew over her shoulder. "You're not making this easy, buddy!"

"This is proving to be less of a graceful coordination exercise and more of a rodeo!" Minerva hissed, narrowly sidestepping a double-kick. "The creature is clearly overstimulated."

From the other side of the fence, Uma tapped her lip thoughtfully. "Hm. Yes, it's a bit too feisty today. I did forget to calm it first."

"Calm it how?" Rita asked, sidestepping again. "You got any sleepy darts? Chamomile lotion? Whiskey?"

"It likes classical music," Uma said brightly. "Baroque compositions in particular. Has a taste for harpsichord. Problem is, the music box is under maintenance."

"Of course it is!" Rita called out. "Why wouldn't it be?"

Minerva, however, didn't flinch. Her eyes sharpened behind her glasses. "Then allow me."

Rita glanced over at her. "Wait, really? You know classical music?"

"I have memorized most of Bach's solo repertoire, alongside select works by Händel and Vivaldi. My cerebral recall is both vast and, I daresay, surprisingly melodic." She tapped her temple. "And with my augmentation, I can do more than recall."

"What is your augmentation, anyway?" Rita asked.

Without another word, Minerva tilted her head to the left. From her ear, a strange slick slithering sound began. A shiny, soft-looking extrusion began to emerge--a pale, glistening pink mass, wrinkled like a brain. It slithered out slowly and deliberately, squishing onto her shoulder where it rested like a sleepy pet octopus. A thin, cord-like strand still tethered it to her ear.

"Oh... my god," Rita said, blinking. "Is that extra brain?"

"She just pulled a brain out of her ear," somebody whispered. "That's hardcore."

"It's beautiful," Lexi said.

"It's disgusting," Lexy added.

"It's both," Lexie concluded.

As the girls watched, the mass on Minerva's shoulder pulsed once, then a soft note echoed through the air. It wasn't coming from a speaker. It came from the brain. A deep, resonant organ chord.

Within seconds, a delicate and complex classical melody began to fill the air, floating gently through the enclosure. The Arse Ass froze. Its tails slowed. Its legs stopped twitching.

Rita's jaw dropped. "Is it... playing music?"

"Yes," Minerva said, the tones rising in crisp harpsichord precision. "It's a side-effect of synaptic overflow. The cerebral mass can function as an acoustic instrument under proper neuromuscular tuning."

Rita blinked. "Say that again, but like, hot girl friendly?"

"I have a spare brain that sings Bach."

"Much better."

Just as they both crouched again, Rita narrowed her eyes and turned to Uma. "Wait. This monster doesn't even have ears. How is it hearing this?"

Uma smiled serenely. "I have no idea. But it has impeccable taste."

With the music flowing and the Arse Ass swaying in strange peace, Rita and Minerva prepared to try again--this time, with rhythm, grace, and fewer near-death kicks.

While the beast enjoyed the elegant rhythms of Minerva's shoulder-brain symphony, Uma stepped forward and passed two small metal buckets through the fence bars.

"Here--one for each end," she said. "Don't get them mixed up."

Rita took hers with a wink. "I'll take the starboard end."

"I shall claim port," Minerva said, adjusting her glasses as she gracefully knelt on the opposite side.

As they both crouched near their assigned rear ends, the Arse Ass gave a long, satisfied snort-wheeze, still rhythmically twitching its tails in time with the music. Its back legs stayed lifted just slightly--still threatening, but now less volatile.

"Okay," Rita whispered. "Real gentle. Firm pull. Steady rhythm. Treat it like one of those old pump wells."

Minerva tilted her head, watching Rita's hand movements with laser focus.

First, Rita carefully placed her hand around the base of the monster's cock, feeling the heat and pulse of the creature's need. Then, with a nod to Minerva, she began to stroke in time with the music, her movements precise and measured. The Arse Ass quivered but remained still, seemingly lost in the melody.

"I see... a three-beat rhythm with a half-second pause. Interesting wrist angle. Hm." She mirrored Rita's movement almost perfectly, her slender fingers wrapping around the warm, slick shaft of the creature's other erection. "Quite a natural technique."

The music grew more intricate, a dance of notes that seemed to resonate through the very air of the chamber, soothing the creature and setting the pace for their task.

Rita glanced over, amused. "You... copyin' me?"

"Indeed. Your intuitive tempo syncs nicely with the composition. Coordinating our movements will ensure even expression and reduce the chance of bodily harm."

"You could've just said 'yeah.'"

"I could have," Minerva smiled faintly.

Together, they worked in elegant unison, both cocks of the Arse Ass gently stimulated in tandem. The rhythmic motions and classical score blended in a bizarre harmony--two naked young women kneeling beside an anatomically impossible donkey, pleasuring it with matching grace and precision while a brain on Minerva's shoulder played Bach. You had to be there to believe it.

"It's almost... elegant," Lexi commented.

Their hands moved in perfect harmony with the music, the twin erections responding with eager jerks. The Arse Ass let out a low, contented sound, its tails swishing more gently now, as if swaying to an invisible breeze. The audience outside the enclosure watched in a mix of amazement and bemusement.

As the crescendo of the piece approached, the creature's hindquarters began to quiver. Minerva's brain played the final notes, and Rita whispered, "Here we go."

In unison, they increased the speed of their strokes, matching the tempo of the climax of the Bach composition. The Arse Ass's cocks swelled, the veins bulging with anticipation. Then, almost as if choreographed to the beat, the first stream of thick, white cum shot into Rita's bucket. It was hot and viscous, steaming slightly in the cool air. The monster's body jolted with pleasure, and its tail swished in approval.

Minerva's end was not far behind. The second cock jerked in her grip, and she watched with a scientific fascination as it spurted its seed. The force was surprisingly strong, and she had to adjust her grip to avoid spillage. The scent of male musk filled the air, a stark contrast to the delicate melody still resonating from her extra brain.

Their hands moved in a ballet of necessity, keeping time with the dying notes of the harpsichord piece. The Arse Ass's hindquarters quivered with each release, the buckets slowly filling with the sticky essence of the creature's relief. The music reached its crescendo, and as the last note hung in the air, both cocks spasmed one final time, the warm fluid pulsing into the containers.

Minerva and Rita looked at each other with a mix of triumph and bewilderment, their expressions a silent question of 'Did we really just do that?'

Uma beamed, hands clasped. "Marvelous work! You've synced with the creature's dual temperament. That's not easy, you know. Some professionals can't even manage one side."

Minerva blinked behind her glasses. "Admittedly, the oddity of the task had its challenges, but once the bilateral synchronization was achieved, it became... rather soothing."

"Speak for yourself," Rita said, flexing her fingers. "I feel like I just massaged an anaconda."

Minerva gave a tiny nod. "A shared achievement, nonetheless."

Rita bumped her shoulder gently. "You weren't bad, Brain DJ."

Minerva blinked once--then smirked. "Nor were you, Bucket Wrangler."

From her shoulder, the extra brain gave one last lingering chord before slowly retracting, slurping back into her ear with a moist glurp.

Uma laughed. "Congratulations, girls! Maybe I will call you two again if he needs some release."

Part 25

"You were both amazing and disgusting, Minerva," Zara said, patting her on the shoulder as they walked away from the petting zoo.

"My, such remarks may very well provoke a chromatic response in my cheeks," Minerva replied with a gentle chuckle, adjusting her blazer.

"I don't even know what that means," Freya mumbled.

"It means she's blushing," Gaylor whispered.

"What's our next destination?" Olympia asked, stretching her arms with audible pops. "I heard this place has a gym. I'd love to see what kind of equipment they've got here. I wanna try that Kaiju-class bench press I saw in a flyer."

"Don't worry, Oly," Lexi said, already skipping a step ahead.

"We were thinking about you as well," Lexy added with a wink.

"We will visit the gym," Lexie assured, "but first, we'll take a detour to this one." She pointed ahead as they reached the outer fringe of the campus.

As they walked, the terrain shifted from manicured lawns to an open area that felt more like a festival fairground in the sky. They passed a levitating popcorn stand that floated six feet in the air, tethered only by stringy purple vines. A girl with butterfly wings was giving rides to toddlers in giant soap bubbles. One of the Lexisters waved politely at a woman walking a leashed chimera--it had a dog's body, a toucan's head, and a badger's attitude.

A group of glittering Harpy twins performed midair synchronized flips above them, their feathers changing color with every rotation. Nearby, a man in a top hat was playing poker with a group of goblins using live beetles as chips.

"This place is getting weirder by the minute," Quincy muttered.

"I like it," Niko said, pulling her bomber jacket tighter. "Feels alive."

Lexie suddenly clapped her hands. "And here we are!"

They turned a corner where a wide grassy clearing stretched before them, marked by tall flags fluttering in the breeze. A huge sign floated overhead, formed by suspended glowing letters that rearranged themselves every few seconds: FLIGHT FIELD • AERIAL TRIALS • SKYRIDER SHOWCASE.

"Welcome," Lexy said, "to the Flying Class."

As they stepped onto the grass of the flight field, the wind immediately picked up, like even the breeze was excited to greet them.

"Niko," Lexi said with a grin, nudging her with an elbow, "we picked this one with you in mind."

"We know how you feel about flying," added Lexy.

"Your jacket practically begged us," Lexie teased, pointing at the bomber jacket Niko was zipping halfway up.

Niko's eyes lit up. "No way. A whole class about flying?"

Before anyone could answer, a gust of wind swept down from above, followed by a flurry of feathers. Then, with a swooping blur, the teacher made her entrance.

She landed lightly in front of the group, bending one knee like a performer hitting her final pose. She looked like a creature drawn by a dream: white-blonde hair fluttering around her face, a sculpted body glistening slightly with sweat, and a chaotic array of wings across her body. Some were sprouting from her back, and smaller ones were protruding from each wrist and ankle, like accessories. A pair of feathery winglets even framed her head like strange, noble horns growing from her temples.

She wore only a bikini--barely--its straps cleverly threaded through wing joints and loops to avoid getting tangled in the plumage.

"Welcome, visitors," she beamed. Her voice was airy and pleasant, like it might float off without her if she didn't hold it down. "I'm Zephyr Hart, your instructor for this little airborne adventure."

She gave a theatrical spin, her ankle wings fluttering. "I know I look like I lost a fight with a bird-themed fashion designer, but trust me--I'm fully qualified."

Lexy chuckled while Niko leaned forward, visibly hooked.

"This class," Zephyr continued, pacing across the grass as her wings flared with each step, "is all about aerial movement. Mastering the sky with whatever gift, gear, or beast you happen to use. We'll be looking at powered flight, gliding, combat agility, and--if we have time--some freestyle."

She raised a hand, and several foreign guests descended from different directions, hovering midair or touching down gently behind her.

"To help with the demonstration, we've invited some of our talented guests from abroad. Some fly with augmentations, others with high-tech gear, and some"--she paused dramatically--"ride beasts that were born to dominate the skies."

Behind her, a short woman descended using mechanical jet fans strapped to her shoulders. Another floated effortlessly with no visible tech at all--just glowing lines tracing the bones of her arms. A third was perched on a manta-like glider stitched from monster skin.

And then the wind changed again.

A collective hush passed over the crowd as the sky darkened briefly--not with clouds, but with the enormous silhouette of a scaled, winged creature circling overhead.

Zephyr smiled, eyes following the beast. "And now, our headliners... the dragon riders."

The sky bloomed with motion.

The dragons soared into formation, their massive wings slicing through the air with elegant, thunderous rhythm. Each rider executed complex maneuvers--spiraling ascents, steep dives, tight corkscrews--showing off not just their bond with their beasts, but complete command of the skies.

Gasps and cheers erupted as two dragons twisted around each other in a double helix while a third dropped between them upside down. Another performed an aerial loop while its rider stood upright, arms spread wide like an acrobat.

Then, with a sharp whistle from the lead rider, they all began to circle. One by one, each dragon released a burst of fire--not a wild blaze, but a controlled, radiant ring that hovered in the air like a halo.

Six. Seven. Eight rings blazed in perfect alignment, suspended in the sky like the rungs of a fiery ladder.

The last dragon--midnight blue with copper horns--rushed forward.

The rider leaned low against its neck, and with astonishing precision, they zipped through every single ring of fire in a single, continuous dive. Flames licked at the beast's wingtips, but it emerged unscathed, gliding into a perfect landing.

The dragon's claws hit the earth with a deep thud, and the rider swung off in one smooth motion. The crowd erupted into cheers.

He pulled off his ornate helmet--black and burnished gold, with wing motifs along the sides--and a cascade of silver-blonde hair fell free, tousled and shining in the sun. His face was angular and delicate, with sharp cheekbones and a smooth jawline. At first glance, he looked like another androgynous beauty from some high fantasy novel.

But then he spoke.

"That was your sky welcome," he said with a confident smirk, his voice rich and unmistakably masculine, with a thick European accent. "We are honored to fly for you today."

His dragon let out a soft growl behind him as the other riders landed and dismounted. A wave of squeals swept the crowd as the girls rushed forward.

"He's gorgeous!"

"That hair... those eyes!"

"Did you see that dive? Did you see that dive?!"

He basked in it with practiced humility, offering nods and warm smiles.

"I'm Dragomir Sokolov, captain of the Wyrm Talons," he announced. "My crew and I come from the mountains of Eastern Europe. We fly where the wind howls and the stars burn bright."

Several of the girls actually sighed.

But one voice broke the rhythm.

"Nice technique," Niko said. Her arms were crossed, her head tilted slightly. "Though your center alignment drifted in the second barrel roll, and your dragon dipped its left wing too far going into the fifth fire ring. Could've lost momentum."

Dragomir turned his head, blinking in surprise at the small, boyish figure addressing him. He looked Niko up and down, clearly mistaking her for a young guy.

"You are... brave, little flyer," he said, amused. "Your eyes are sharp, but perhaps you prefer watching from the ground, yes? It's easier to critique with your feet in the grass."

A few girls laughed, but Niko raised an eyebrow.

"I prefer flying. Just not on borrowed wings."

"Oho!" Dragomir grinned. "Such fire in this one! A future pilot, perhaps. Tell me then, little eagle--do you fly as well as you speak?"

"Better," Niko replied with a smirk.

Before their exchange could heat further, Zephyr swooped down between them, a feathered whirlwind of energy. "Alright, enough preening! There's only one way to settle a sky spat like this."

She grinned.

"A race."

Gasps and excited whispers spread like wildfire.

Dragomir gave a gallant shrug. "I accept."

Niko grinned. "Let's go."

Still assuming she was a cocky teenage boy, Dragomir chuckled. "You may ride a borrowed glider if you like. Or will you flap your arms and pray?"

Niko smirked. "No need. I've got my own wings."

"What wings she talks about?" Zara elbowed Akemi.

"Oh, she learned a new trick recently with her Paper Pixie powers," Akemi explained.

Niko tossed off her bomber jacket, revealing the tight black tank top she wore beneath. Her toned and tanned arms were already scrawled with sharp creases and tiny paper cuts--signs of her power waking up. She cracked her neck and spread her fingers wide.

From the skin of her shoulders and upper back, sheets of paper began to unfurl with a papery shhhrrip, as if peeled from under her skin. They folded and layered in rapid precision, creasing themselves midair into intricate, aerodynamic shapes. With a twitch of her shoulders, the sheets shifted, spreading into a big pair of stylized wings, sharp and clean-edged like origami made by a master with a mean streak.

They flapped once, rustling with the faint sound of turning pages.

The crowd went silent. Then the murmurs started.

"Is that paper?"

"Did that just come out of his skin?"

"He can fly with those?!"

Dragomir, strapping back on his helmet with casual grace, gave her a glance--then a second, longer one. His smirk faltered slightly, but returned quickly. "Ah. So this is your method. Very creative. Cute, even."

"Thanks," Niko said, rolling her shoulders and flaring her paper wings again. "You'll get a good look at them when I pass you."

The last of Dragomir's riders took position in the air, each atop their dragons, forming a series of staggered hoops made of lingering flame. The dragons weren't breathing constant fire--just keeping their rings lit long enough for a real challenge. The wind shifted; the smoke curled upward in lazy trails. It looked like a gauntlet meant for daredevils.

Zephyr fluttered into the space between Niko and Dragomir, flapping her wrist-wings for emphasis. "Alright, here are the rules! You'll both take off at my signal. There are eight fire hoops, each at different heights and angles. You must pass through all of them to qualify--miss one, and you're disqualified. The first one to complete the course and land back here wins."

"Understood," Dragomir nodded, slipping on his gloves. "And your name, little challenger?"

"Niko."

He blinked, then gave a lopsided grin. "Weak name for a weak boy."

Zephyr snorted quietly but said nothing.

Niko just narrowed her eyes, her stance low and ready.

Zephyr raised a winged arm. "On my mark..."

The fire hoops shimmered in the sky.

"Get set!"

The air held still for one electric heartbeat.

"GO!"

At Zephyr's cry, the two launched.

Dragomir surged forward like a missile, his dragon's tailwinds still lingering in the air, giving him an early speed burst. Niko followed instantly, her paper wings slicing through the sky with crisp precision, catching the wind with an eerie silence. Her lean frame leaned forward, aerodynamic, locked into the race.

The first hoop was an easy one--wide, low, and horizontal. Both racers glided through without effort, Dragomir twisting theatrically, showing off to the crowd below.

"Too flashy," Niko muttered to herself, shifting her weight and folding her wings tighter for speed.

By the third hoop, things changed. The rings got tighter, trickier--angled vertically or spun sideways, positioned at dizzying heights or almost too close to the ground. Dragomir clearly knew the layout; his movements were practiced, elegant, and showy. But Niko was quick to adapt. Her wings could fold and reshape mid-flight, compressing for narrow gaps and flaring wide when she needed a sudden lift.

At the fifth hoop, she caught up.

They were neck and neck, each of them banking into a tight spiral to squeeze through a flaming loop no wider than a dorm window. Niko's wings skimmed the edge of the fire, the tips curling and blackening.

Dragomir noticed, casting a sideways glance. "Careful, paper boy. You might crumple."

Niko said nothing. Her jaw clenched.

The sixth and seventh hoops were even closer. The crowd below roared as the two racers began diving and weaving in near-sync, their silhouettes framed in overlapping fire rings. Dragomir was faster in raw thrust, but Niko moved like a dancer--every motion calculated, tight, efficient.

They hit the eighth hoop together--flames now rising higher, wind pushing against them, smoke beginning to sting the eyes. Niko's wings, singed at the edges from previous passes, finally caught a proper blaze as she passed just a hair too close to the seventh fire ring. Orange embers licked across the right side of her wings.

Her eyes widened.

She didn't falter.

Matching Dragomir's movement perfectly, she tucked her legs, dove hard, and with the last of her intact wing surface, shot straight through the final burning hoop beside him.

Both passed through at the exact same second.

The crowd erupted in cheers and screams. Zephyr flew upward, wings flared wide to meet them at the landing point.

Niko's wings were trailing smoke.

She hit the ground running--literally. The moment her feet touched down, she ripped the smoking paper wings from her back and tossed them aside. Embers, however, were already working their way into her clothes.

"Crap!" she hissed as the first flickers of heat licked at her skin.

Not wanting to pull a "Freya," she spun out of her burning clothes at lightning speed, tearing off her jacket and shirt, hopping out of her pants, and kicking off her shoes all in a single move. Her quick stripping was so fast and chaotic that it earned scattered laughter from the onlookers until the laughter gave way to stunned silence.

Dragomir and his fellow riders, still chuckling, suddenly froze.

Standing in the clearing, illuminated by the lingering glow of dragonfire, was not the gutsy boy Dragomir thought he'd raced.

It was a girl.

Her short, sandy-blonde hair stuck out in wild, slightly sweat-dampened tufts. Her body was lithe and athletic--tan skin stretched over taut muscle, with square shoulders and narrow hips giving her a tomboyish, almost androgynous build. Her chest was small enough to be mistaken for a flat one from afar, save for the soft outlines shaped more by lean tone than curves. There was no mistaking it now.

"Wait... he's a she?" one of Dragomir's crew muttered under his breath.

Niko blinked and looked down. "Oh... damn it," she groaned, quickly covering her goods with both hands.

Zephyr dropped in a second later, wings flaring out protectively. "Alright, alright--show's over," she said cheerfully, wrapping a wing around Niko like a towel. "Let's give the lady a second to dress, shall we?"

Some people in the crowd respectfully turned away. Others, mostly boys, peeked through fingers with wide eyes and suppressed giggles.

Dragomir, meanwhile, was still staring.

His smirk was gone, replaced by something softer, curious, maybe even a little impressed. "So... you're Niko," he said, voice lower now, as if recalibrating his entire opinion.

"Yeah, surprise," Niko grumbled, tugging her tank top over her head. "I come in a girl flavor."

He blinked, then gave a sheepish grin. "Guess I owe you more than just a rematch. That was some insane flying out there."

She squinted at him. "You're not gonna pull the 'Oh, you're good--for-a-girl' card, are you?"

Dragomir laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Nope. Just 'You're good.' Period. Really good."

"Damn right," Niko muttered, slipping her pants back on and stamping a boot down.

Zephyr raised an eyebrow between them. "Well, now that we've had fire, flight, and a surprise gender reveal, who's up for scoring this thing?"

The crowd quieted as Zephyr lifted her hand dramatically, her voice ringing out like a referee in an arena. "And the winner, by a half-wing lead and a scorched landing--Niko!"

Cheers erupted from the crowd. The Lexisters were practically vibrating with excitement, while Zara gave a victorious two-finger salute. Even Minerva gave a slow, approving nod.

Niko, now fully dressed again, stepped out from Zephyr's protective wings and raised both arms overhead in a subtle but proud victory pose.

Dragomir clapped, then walked up to her, his dragon following close behind with a low rumble that almost sounded like applause.

"I'll admit it," he said with a crooked grin. "You're faster than I expected... and tougher too."

Niko folded her arms and smirked. "That sounds dangerously close to a compliment."

"It is," he chuckled. "I don't hand those out often. Especially not after getting smoked in front of a crowd."

"Smoked literally," she added, pointing at her singed boots. "I think some of my socks melted."

Dragomir laughed. "Worth it for the show, though."

He offered her a hand. "I'm officially humbled."

Niko took his hand and shook it firmly. "I'm officially awesome."

Their handshake lingered a moment longer than necessary, and then Niko cocked her head. "You ever race someone with wings made of office supplies before?"

"First time," he admitted. "I won't underestimate one again."

"Wanna rematch someday?" Dragomir asked as he began walking backward toward his crew.

Niko gave a small smile. "I love flying too much to say no."

"Next time, I might even try to win."

As he turned away, Niko glanced at her singed sleeves, still faintly smoking.

"... Next time," she whispered, "I'm bringing fireproof clothes."

Part 26

"We're not surprised you won, Niko," Lexi said with a proud smile.

"Yeah, we were cheering down here for you. Even did our signature pose," Lexy added, striking a quick, dramatic stance.

"No need to thank us," Lexie grinned, "but..."

"Thank you, girls," Niko said with an exaggerated eye roll and a smirk.

"You're welcome!" the Lexisters replied in perfect unison.

"Okay, can we hit the gym now?" Olympia cut in, practically bouncing with anticipation.

"Yeah, of course," Lexi nodded.

"Let's see some muscle. My viewers are gonna eat this up," Rita's voice chimed in from behind them.

Zara turned with a groan. "How did you even find us this time?"

"I just finished interviewing the dragon riders," Rita said with a smug grin. "Their leader mentioned a 'boyish girl with a weird crew' heading toward the gym. Wasn't hard to connect the dots."

They headed back into the building and began descending a wide, industrial-looking staircase.

"The gym is in the basement?" Zara asked.

"Guess it's easier to bring all the equipment down than lug it upstairs," Lexy shrugged.

When they reached the bottom level, the heavy doors opened into the gym -- a massive, high-tech chamber buzzing with energy. Heavy machines lined the walls, platforms were stacked with weights, and augmented athletes filled the space. Some wore uniforms emblazoned with their countries' flags, others had skin in unnatural hues or bore extra limbs, tails, or glowing veins.

It was a carnival of strength and modification.

"Hello, hello!" came a booming, friendly voice. A tall, muscular woman approached with a grin. "Oh, it's you girls. Aritimi's pupils, right?"

"Yes, Miss Hart," Lexie replied politely. "One of our friends is really into fitness, so we thought we'd bring her here."

"Oh come on, no need for the 'Miss.' Just call me Brick," she said with a chuckle. "There's a lot of us Harts around here, so it helps to keep things casual. I'm Brick Hart -- gym teacher and proud meat slab." She turned to the rest of the crowd.

She definitely lived up to her name.

Brick was nearly two meters tall and looked like she'd been carved from masonry. Her entire body was coated in matte, reddish-orange plating -- each segment shaped like an individual brick. The grooves between them flexed naturally as she moved, creating the illusion of a living statue. Her abs were literal rectangles, an eight-pack of perfectly shaped slabs. Her hair was thick and terracotta-colored, braided into heavy ropes. The only thing covering her was a micro bikini that barely qualified as clothing.

"Damn," Zara muttered, letting out a low whistle. "I knew they called it bodybuilding, but I didn't think you guys meant it literally."

Brick chuckled. "You must be Zara. You've got a nice tone yourself."

She scanned the rest of the group with an expert eye.

"You look like you keep it light and agile," she said to Akemi with a warm smile. "Probably do some balance or flexibility training, yeah?"

To Curtis, the Lexisters, and Freya: "Strong, lean, and aesthetic -- textbook excellence."

She trailed her finger lightly across Freya's abnormal abs. "An immaculate ten-pack. You don't see that every day."

To Irish, she clapped a hand on her calf. "These are sprinter legs if I've ever seen 'em."

When she got to Dayanara, Brick's face softened. "A little softness here," she said, poking her belly with a grin, "but that just means you're huggable and strong."

Then she turned to Olympia -- and stopped dead in her tracks.

"Holy crap." Brick's eyes widened. "You must be the one they were hyping up. Girl, your build is out of this world."

"Aw, you're gonna make me blush," Olympia said with a grin, flexing one arm casually.

"Your biceps are nearly as dense as my rocky hide," Brick marveled, giving one a testing squeeze. "Come on -- my sisters have to meet you. They'll love this."

She turned and waved them toward a reinforced side door.

"Wait," Zara said, glancing at the Lexisters. "I didn't know you three were gym rats."

"Of course," Lexi said proudly.

"But not for bodybuilding," Lexy added.

"Just to keep everything tight and shiny," Lexie finished with a wink.

Zara rolled her eyes. "Of course."

The group followed Brick through the side door, stepping into a new area -- one with even more intense vibes.

The reinforced door slid open to reveal a chamber that looked like a hybrid between a futuristic weight room and an ancient coliseum. Steel beams and support frames arched overhead, but the floor was rugged stone, marked with chalk outlines and scuff marks from countless competitions. Heavy-duty benches, squat racks, and lifting platforms lined the edges, and in the center stood two unmistakable figures.

The first was an imposing centaur-like woman -- though her anatomy defied standard mythological categories. Instead of an equine lower body, she had a human woman's body with a second torso rising from the neck. She had two sets of arms and breasts because of that. Grotesquely, she was walking on all fours, using her lower arms as front legs.

Beside her stood an equally impressive sight -- a towering woman who scraped the ceiling even while standing relaxed. Her pale, glacier-toned skin was crisscrossed with faint frost lines that shine like cracks in ice. Her braided hair was snow-white with streaks of cobalt, and she carried herself with a kind of heavy, regal calm -- like a mountain that chose to move. She wore a reinforced sports bra and fur-trimmed workout shorts, her posture casual but commanding.

"Girls," Brick grinned, gesturing between the two, "meet my sisters."

The centaur-woman gave a confident bow, the top half of her torso folding while the lower one remained upright. "Debbera Hart. Don't let the extra torso throw you -- I can lift with both."

The giantess waved warmly. "Inga Hart. Jötunn-human hybrid."

Zara raised a hand. "Just a half Jötunn? I've seen pureblood Jötunns that were slightly but still shorter than you."

"Because my father was an Alpha Jötunn. But outside of my abnormal height, I'm not more powerful than purebloods."

"So," Brick said, turning toward Olympia, "this is our girl. Olympia, meet Debbera and Inga. They both love working out just like me."

Olympia looked up at them, unshaken. "Damn, now that's a power team. It's an honor to meet you both."

"Oh, the honor's ours," Brick said, grinning. "You're one of Aritimi's -- that alone means you've got something special. And you look the part."

Inga gave a soft chuckle. "You know what? We should have a little friendly test. Strength. Endurance. Aesthetics. Just a quick three-part challenge."

Debbera trotted in a slow circle around Olympia, eyes gleaming with excitement. "Nothing brutal. Just a little heat to see what you're made of."

"And of course," Inga added, "we'll participate too. It'd be an honor to compete against one of Aritimi's pupils."

Olympia raised one eyebrow with a smirk. "A three-part test against a centaur mutant and a frost giantess?"

She flexed both arms, causing her delts to pop. "Hell yes."

The Hart sisters grinned wide, clearly pleased.

"Then let the challenge begin," Brick announced, clapping her bricked hands together. "First up -- raw power."

As the challenge was announced, Olympia unzipped her gym hoodie and peeled it off, revealing the tight tank top beneath. She reached into her side bag and pulled out a folded, glittery bikini -- deep purple with shimmering crystal details.

"You brought a bikini to school?" Zara asked.

"I always carry one," Olympia replied, matter-of-factly. "Never know when you'll need to drop the sleeves and lift some iron. Clothes just get in the way." She turned around and changed quickly and confidently, slipping into the bikini with practiced ease.

Even in the fluorescent lighting, her bronzed muscles gleamed.

Rita and Max were already filming.

"Okay, first round!" Brick announced. "Bench press. Each of you gets three rounds, progressively heavier weights. You max out -- you're out."

A thick bench was rolled into place with mechanical ease, the weights already calibrated for titanic lifters.

"Round One: Bench Press"

Debbera was up first. With her upright torso lifting while the horizontal one helped spot, she nailed her reps with ease. Her form was both grotesque and graceful, movements smooth and efficient -- clearly a seasoned lifter.

Next was Olympia. She dropped onto the bench, took a breath, and pressed with explosive power. The plates rattled slightly, but the bar rose clean. The crowd clapped.

Then came Inga. The moment she lay down, the bench groaned. She gripped the bar like it owed her money. Her form wasn't flashy -- just pure, crushing force. She lifted the bar like it weighed nothing.

By the third round, Debbera tapped out -- her dual-torso system wasn't built for max power. Olympia pushed hard, her muscles trembling slightly, her teeth gritted. She managed her final lift with a triumphant growl and sat up, chest heaving.

But Inga? Inga added more plates.

"Are you serious?" Olympia blinked, towel in hand.

"Just a little icebreaker," Inga winked.

The massive Jötunn hybrid gripped the bar again and pressed it up. Once. Then twice. The gym echoed with the clang of power.

"Winner of round one -- Inga Hart!" Brick called, raising her sister's icy hand.

Olympia clapped with a nod, "Okay, that was hot."

Inga chuckled. "Cold, actually."

"Round Two: Overhead Press Endurance"

For the second round, the girls were given moderately heavy barbells. This time, the challenge was duration -- who could hold the weight locked out above their head the longest.

Debbera stepped forward first, lifting with synchronized grace -- both torsos working in harmony to balance and support. Her muscles looked locked in place.

Olympia followed, arms raised. Her abs twitched, and sweat formed quickly along her brow. She gritted her teeth, holding steady.

Inga looked strong as ever, but endurance wasn't her game. Her arms trembled sooner than the others, and after a few minutes, she grunted and lowered the bar.

Olympia and Debbera kept going, visibly straining now.

"She's sweating more than my cold cuts," Zara whispered, watching Debbera.

"You better be filming every second," Rita whispered to Max, focusing on Olympia's glistening core.

Finally, Olympia let out a low growl and dipped her knees, lowering the bar with a gasp.

Debbera remained standing, arms locked, calm and controlled, not even shaking.

"Winner of round two -- Debbera Hart!"

The centaur mutant dipped both torsos in a celebratory bow.

Brick clapped loudly. "One win for Inga, one for Debbera. Final round will be aesthetics! That's right -- the pose-down!"

"Ohhh yes," Olympia grinned, her crystal shimmer intensifying. "Now you're in my arena."

As the weights were cleared from the space and a wide, mirrored platform slid into view, the tension between the competitors shifted -- less sweat, more style.

"Okay," Brick said, clapping her hands once. "Final round: posing!"

"But..." Zara raised a hand. "How are we supposed to decide the winner fairly? I mean, you're literally their sister," she pointed at Brick, "and we're obviously Olympia's crew."

"True," Curtis nodded. "And I'm not pretending I wouldn't vote for those abs," she added, eyeing Olympia.

Brick looked thoughtful, but before she could answer, Rita raised a finger -- and her phone.

"Don't worry, ladies. I've got it covered." Her screen was already open on a livestream app. "My followers are hungry for content and extremely judgmental. None of them know who any of you are, which makes them perfect judges."

"Hmmm... that sounds fair and unbiased way to decide who will win," Brick nodded.

Rita smirked. "Now strike a pose, muscle queens. You're live in three... two..."

The stream blinked on. Rita quickly asked the audience to vote on who they think should win the round.

Debbera went first.

She stepped forward and flexed her upper torso's shoulders and biceps, while her secondary torso struck a contrasting pose, raising her arms in a wide stretch, giving the illusion of symmetry in motion.

Next came Inga.

The crowd gasped as she rolled her shoulders and did a slow lat spread that made her already massive body look even broader. Her pale blue skin glistened with mist, and as she struck a thunderous side-chest pose, her veins pulsed like rivers of frost. She ended with a classic strongwoman stance, her fists on her hips and a grin like she'd just lifted a mountain.

Finally, Olympia stepped forward and turned up the heat.

Her Zircon Zombie augmentation activated subtly at first -- faint flecks of shimmering crystal blooming across her skin like morning frost on bronze. But as she flowed through her routine, hitting side poses, vacuum flexes, and double biceps with effortless rhythm, the crystals intensified -- glowing softly with shifting hues of violet, gold, and deep blue.

Then came the finish.

Olympia struck a back pose and flexed hard -- and her entire body lit up in a cascade of refracted color. Her skin became a glistening gemstone surface, catching every beam of light and scattering rainbows across the room.

"Oh damn," Rita whispered.

Even the other competitors turned their heads, slightly stunned. It wasn't just strength or form -- Olympia had turned herself into a walking statue of beauty and power.

On the stream, the chat exploded:

"CRYSTAL GIRL FTW"

"2nd one was like a frost GIANT DAMN"

"Centaur Lady is cool but bruhhhh that finale???"

"I want her to crush my skull with those thighs! NOW!!!"

"Bronze girl GLOW UP let's gooooooo"

The girls struck one final trio pose -- side by side, flexing hard -- and then relaxed as Brick stepped forward.

"I guess we just need the results," she said.

Rita glanced at her phone. "Voting just closed." She smirked and raised her voice dramatically. "And the winner, by a narrow margin... with 46% of the vote... is OLYMPIA!"

Cheers erupted around the gym. Olympia let out a sharp exhale and gave a humble nod, though her grin betrayed just how much she was loving it.

"You earned it," Debbera said, slapping her shoulder. "At least all three of us won a round, so nobody goes home as a loser."

"Next time I'm bringing glitter," Inga added with a chuckle.

Brick beamed. "That was one of the best pose-downs we've ever had in this gym."

Olympia smiled and adjusted her bikini strap. "Maybe I will drop by in the future for more, so be ready for a rematch."

"We will!" they said in unison.

Part 27

"That was a great contest," Quincy said as they took the stairs down without Rita, who stayed there with Max to film the muscular women for their audience, "but can we finally move on to something I want to do?"

"Soon, don't worry," Lexi said, patting her shoulder.

"We've got something planned for everyone," added Lexy.

"But first," Lexie smiled, "it's Pixie's turn."

"Good! I'm really excited," Quincy grinned, bouncing slightly on her heels.

They descended into a vast underground space--an enormous greenhouse lined with strange, vibrant flora from floor to ceiling. The air shimmered faintly with pollen and magical residue. Some flowers glowed. Others moved. One particularly odd shrub had a heartbeat.

"Welcome to the Botanical Class," Lexi announced with a grand gesture.

"Aaawww! It's soooo beautiful here!" Pixie squealed, skipping forward. She bent down to sniff a golden rose. "Oh! This one smells like... glitter and cookies!"

"Is it always this empty?" Zara asked, glancing around. "Feels kinda... eerie."

"They're probably running the obstacle course in the next sector," Lexy said, stepping to a control panel beside a reinforced glass door. She pressed a button, and a soft chime echoed.

A few moments later, rapid footsteps approached from the other side. The door clicked, then swung open.

"Hello!" beamed a woman so radiant she made the glowing flowers look dull. "Ah! I recognize you three," she said, eyes sparkling at the Lexisters. "Aritimi's pupils, right?"

"That's us," Lexy nodded, then gestured to the rest. "And these are our fellow classmates."

"Except him," Lexie added, thumbing at Fred, who waved sheepishly.

"It's an honor to have you all," the woman said warmly. "I'm Viva Hart--botanical instructor and field partner of the Botanical Unit."

Esmeralda raised a hand, eyes wide. "I... I don't mean to be rude, but... what are you? You're... you're almost too beautiful to be a half-monster."

She wasn't exaggerating.

Viva's skin glowed softly, like sunlight filtering through a leaf. Its tone shifted subtly with her emotions--currently a warm, golden hue. Her hair flowed around her as if underwater, changing color gradually from spring green to soft amber to rose gold. Her irises were a vibrant green, flecked with gold sparks that shimmered with every blink. Even her presence felt calming--like stepping into a peaceful meadow after a storm.

Also, she was very naked. Her body moved like she was wading through water, every step causing her curves to sway in slow, serene motion. Somehow, it didn't feel vulgar. It felt natural--almost sacred.

"I'm a human--life force entity hybrid," she explained gently. "To be specific, a Primordial Life Force Entity. But don't let the title intimidate you."

"So you're like... a demigoddess?" Akemi asked, eyes twinkling.

"Not quite," Viva chuckled. "There are hybrids that powerful, but I'm not one of them. I'm more of a botanical whisperer than a divine being."

Lexi stepped in. "Do you still have time for the obstacle course?"

"Not all of us will join," Lexy clarified.

"Just her," Lexie said, nodding toward Pixie, who gave an eager hop.

"Of course! Right this way," Viva said. She turned and led them through the door into a dim hallway lined with glowing vines. As she walked, tiny blossoms bloomed from the floor behind her--sprouting wherever her bare feet touched, only to slowly retract once she passed.

Pixie leaned toward Zara, whispering with wide eyes, "If I die today, I want to be buried in this greenhouse."

They followed Viva down a winding staircase wrapped in vines that glowed with soft bioluminescence. As they reached the bottom, they were greeted by a waiting crowd--a line of students in various athletic outfits, chatting and stretching while they eyed the obstacle course ahead.

Standing near the starting gate were two striking (and very naked) women, both clearly Hart sisters.

"Hey there," one said, stepping forward with an earthy confidence. Her skin was a rich, deep brown, marked with natural patterns like the grain of tree bark winding over her shoulders and arms. Her afro was thick, vibrant green, and looked more like a canopy than hair.

"I'm Evergreen Hart," she said with a warm nod. "Dryad hybrid. I help run the course."

Beside her stood a woman with a much softer, ghostly appearance. Her skin was a pale beige with a dusty rose undertone, speckled faintly with what looked like upside-down mushroom gills. Her thick, shoulder-length hair faded from soft white at the roots to grey at the tips, curling in a way that resembled mushroom caps.

"And I'm Portobella Hart," she added with a gentle smile. "I'm part mushroom folk, and I mostly handle the... moodier plants."

Pixie gasped. "Oh my gods, you two are the cutest vegetables I've ever seen!"

Evergreen grinned. "Technically, we're fruiting bodies."

Portobella giggled softly. "Close enough."

Viva gestured toward the wide, overgrown space ahead. "This is the Botanical Obstacle Course. Designed to test agility, reaction, and your ability to work around--or with--hostile plant life."

The students turned to face it.

The obstacle course stretched out like a jungle maze, thick with greenery, vines, and shifting terrain. Animated flora moved of their own will--some lazily, others twitching with menace.

"There are vine snappers," Evergreen pointed to twitching coils ready to lash at anyone passing too close.

"Projectile spitter-lilies," added Portobella, nodding at flowers with trumpet-shaped mouths that pulsed with glowing goo.

"Thorn crawlers," Viva continued. "They like to run across the ground like crabs, trying to trip you. Be careful--those claws can tear sleeves but won't break skin."

A few students gulped.

"And at the end..." Evergreen gestured with a raised brow, "you'll face The Wall-Wood--a living barricade made of interlocking roots and sentient bark. It shifts. It learns. It doesn't like being passed."

Portobella added in her calm, eerie voice, "And finally, the Blazebreath Bulb. It's a flowering carnivore with a dragon-shaped head. It spits fireballs. But only small ones. Mostly."

Zara blinked, stepping forward. "Okay, but... how safe is this?"

Evergreen and Portobella exchanged a knowing glance.

"We're connected to every plant in this room," Evergreen said, patting her chest. "Think of us like moderators."

"We can shut them down instantly if anything gets out of hand," Portobella added with a reassuring nod.

Viva clapped her hands. "Alright! Who wants to be the first brave soul to tackle the course?"

The line of students shuffled uncomfortably. A few looked at the vine snappers, then at the fire-spitting bulb, then took tiny steps backward.

Pixie stepped forward, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

"I'll go!" she grinned, pumping both fists. Her rainbow hair shimmered under the grow lights. "These veggies don't scare me!"

Evergreen raised a brow. "You sure?"

Pixie threw a peace sign and winked. "Absolutely. I was born to run through magical plant death traps."

"Very well," Viva said with a sparkle in her eye. "Let's see what a pupil of Aritimi can do."

The crowd murmured with excitement as Pixie made her way to the starting line, cracking her knuckles and doing exaggerated warm-up stretches like a cartoon character psyching herself up.

She crouched down, her rainbow-colored mane swaying as she grinned ahead at the waiting vines and teeth.

"Let's get botanical, baby."

She then paused for a moment and closed her eyes, gathering energy. She did this for almost a whole minute, but nothing happened.

"What's wrong, Pixie?" Zara asked.

"I need to anger myself to activate my powers, but I'm too happy," she said, pouting her cheeks.

"Well, it's the perfect time to come up with something. You will have to learn how to activate your powers on your own."

"Hmm... yay! I got an idea!" she beamed and reached into her pants.

"What are you doing?" Zara's (and some other students') eyes widened.

Pixie paused, looking over her shoulder at the bewildered expressions. "I need to get a bit... motivated." With a devilish twinkle in her eye, she grabbed the waistband of her thong and yanked it backward with surprising force. The fabric tightened around her butt cheeks, eliciting a yelp and a blush.

The students and instructors stared, unsure if they should laugh or be concerned. The vine snappers quivered in anticipation, and the spitter-lilies paused mid-pulse.

With a grimace, Pixie gave another mighty yank, pulling the fabric of her shorts even further into the crevice between her cheeks. The discomfort was clear on her face, but she remained determined.

Then came a snap of magic.

A pulse of energy radiated from her body, and in an instant, her skin lit up in radiant rainbow hues. Glimmering bands of neon pink, electric blue, gold, green, and violet sparkled over her limbs like liquid light. Her hair, already vibrant, now blazed with saturated color, leaving streaks of rainbow behind it as it moved.

The air crackled around her. The plants closest to her recoiled instinctively--petals drooping, vines twitching as though confused or stunned.

"Is this safe?" Skeletina asked Zara, who simply smiled knowingly.

"She's in her Upset Unicorn state. Technically, nothing can touch her right now."

"Technically?"

Pixie's foot kicked off the ground--and she was gone.

She blazed through the first section like a missile of color. The vine snappers lunged, but their coils bounced harmlessly off her radiant form, recoiling as if scorched by sunlight. The spitter-lilies tried to launch their glowing goop--but it evaporated on contact with the rainbow aura, sizzling into harmless sparkles mid-air.

The thorn crawlers leapt at her path like aggressive tumbleweeds. One tried to latch onto her ankle--only for its claws to shatter on impact, sending it tumbling sideways with a squeaky little growl.

Pixie cartwheeled through the pollen fog section with unnecessary flair, laughing as she flipped over a row of bouncing seed-pods.

"She's not even slowing down," Evergreen said, stunned.

"She's showing off," Portobella said flatly.

"She's doing both," Lexi corrected with a grin.

Then came the Wall-Wood.

A massive, sentient barricade made of tangled roots and living bark rose before her, shifting and snarling like an awakened beast. Faces appeared in the knots of wood. Thorned limbs cracked into position to block her.

Pixie didn't stop.

She leapt--arms flung out like wings--and slammed into the Wall-Wood with a burst of blinding rainbow light.

The barrier froze.

Then it parted, roots slithering aside in reverent silence to let her through untouched.

"Did she just... impress it?" Esmeralda gasped.

"She has Upset Unicorn powers. Those can do even weirder things in the wild," Viva said, watching with amusement.

Finally, the Blazebreath Bulb rose, its dragon-shaped blossom roaring to life. It reared back to launch a fireball--but the moment Pixie dashed past it, the plant flinched and launched the fireball harmlessly into the air.

Pixie reached the end of the course in under thirty seconds, skidding to a halt with one glowing arm in the air.

"Wahoooo!!" she shouted triumphantly. "Taste the rainbow, motherflowers!"

Applause erupted from the students, some cheering, some simply stunned.

Pixie turned around and gave a dazzling pose, flexing dramatically with both fists in the air. "Botanical Unit, baby! I belong here!"

"She's still glowing," Portobella noted calmly.

"And slightly levitating," Evergreen added.

"She'll come down in a minute," Lexy shrugged.

Pixie struck one last pose as glitter-like rainbow particles spiraled off her, winking at the group. "Okay, now I need a juice box."

Part 28

"That was a... very Pixie way to boost yourself," Zara said as they exited the botanical wing, her voice teetering between amusement and disbelief.

Pixie gave a proud little twirl, her rainbow hair still glowing faintly. "I know, right? I saw my shot, and I rainbow-blasted it."

"But why with a wedgie?"

"That was the only thing that could annoy me without causing any harm to me."

They climbed the stairs back toward the ground level.

"Yes! Finally, something for me," Quincy announced with a fist pump. "I'm ready to fight someone. Big, fast, mean--preferably all three. I need a real challenge!"

But before they could move to the next class, a familiar voice echoed from around the corner.

"Pupils!"

Aritimi stepped into view.

"Oh, hey!" Akemi waved. "What's up? Is something wrong?"

"Or are we finally getting pulled into a real emergency?" Rexine asked.

Aritimi gave a light chuckle. "Nothing dramatic, no. I was just looking for you. I ran into the rest of my pupils."

Zara tilted her head. "The rest of us?"

"Yes," Aritimi said with a nod. "The rest of my pupils. You haven't met them yet, Zara, and I figured now's the perfect time."

Zara turned toward the Lexisters. "Why didn't they come with us this morning?"

Lexi shrugged. "They weren't really into the whole class tour thing."

"And they couldn't make it early anyway," Lexy added.

"Well, they're here now," Aritimi said, smiling. "They arrived a few hours ago, and I thought it'd be nice to let them join you for the rest of the day. It'll give you all a chance to bond--and Zara, you'll finally get to meet the full team."

"That sounds fun," Zara said, nodding.

"The more the merrier," the Lexisters chimed in perfect unison.

Aritimi turned toward the hallway. "Alright, come on in, pupils."

A moment later, a small group rounded the corner.

"Zara," Aritimi said with a sweep of her arm, "meet the rest of your new friends."

To be concluded...