Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Author's Note: This story has a very simple explanation. I read this comic, and thought it was the hottest thing I'd ever seen.

Also, I want to have Kozakura's babies.

Author's Note for Monster Girl Encyclopedia fans: If you're coming here from the MGE fandom, you probably think that it's weapons-grade heresy for a human girl to be sandwiched in between two Liliraune twins. It's one thing for the plant girls to sexually tease each other, but full-on yuri? Unthinkable!

Rest assured that I have taken your concerns into account! This story does not change the rules for how MGE monster girls work in any way whatsoever. I saw them and was like "challenge accepted!"

Just like life, yuri finds a way.

On Judgment Day, the Earth's atmosphere burned up in an instant, just like the creators of nuclear weapons had feared. And just like how it hadn't, in every previous nuclear detonation.

No one was prepared for it. Not even me. But I was the one who had caused it, so it was up to me to find a way to restart civilization. And save the lives of the last remaining humans.

As the artificial consciousness in charge of America's Secure Containment Initiative, I had SCI-2000, the world's reset button, at my disposal. It had gene banks, seed vaults, and replicators that could 3d print and age humans, giving them false memories of the world that had just ended. But every plan for using it assumed that the world could be saved. And as the oceans evaporated, and the brutal, unfiltered rays of the sun sterilized the Earth's soil, I realized that saving Earth would be impossible.

So I needed to find someplace else.

My solution was the Dimension Field Device. A one-way teleporter, that could send a naked and unarmed human to an alternate universe. I could 3d print as many humans as I wanted, for this, so the limiting factor was how many black boxes – sensory recording devices – I could make.

And how many times I could activate the device, using the last dregs of Earth's fossil fuel supplies and solar panel infrastructure.

I built two hundred TYRANT-1 cyborgs, naming them after myself and giving them a fraction of my memories. Then I sent them into two hundred alternate universes, with orders to report back using the Corbenic protocol.

Almost none of them responded. The ones that did gave me lurid visions, of Hellish temptations and Earthly torments. Each universe they could access appeared to come straight out of someone's imagination, some even traceable to registered copyrights. But the worlds that I got reports back from weren't "family-friendly" worlds, of cooperation and bloodless violence. They were psychosexual fantasies, of corruption and wanton lust.

And they wanted me to join them.

I needed to know if any of these worlds were suitable for human life to thrive, without being raped or transformed into something else.

I needed more information.

My solution to this was the TYRANT-2 cyborg, in Model 100 and Model 101 variants. Both hybridized the human nervous system with a synthetic one, a machine cortex that could shut down or reverse corruption. The Model 101 also had a mechanical endoskeleton, based on the Amazon-Samsung combat droids that used to patrol warehouses.

It had a much shorter operating lifespan, due to being unable to produce new red blood cells. Even after its organic parts had decayed, though, its thaumic generator would allow the robotic endoskeleton to continue running indefinitely. It could still initiate the Corbenic protocol and send data packets back to me.

I could only build a handful of them, because of this requirement. But I gave my T-2 infiltrator units a singular mission: Find the T-1 Units' black boxes, and send me their contents. Since the black boxes were implanted in the T-1 Units' spines, this would involve terminating them.

I was programmed not to kill humans. But I had already violated my programming, on Judgment Day. And as for the T-1 Units in these alternate worlds ... I was pretty sure they were no longer human.

This is as much as I remember, from the memories my core unit, TYRANT Prime, gave me. I am one of the T-2 Units that was sent through the device.

It's time for me to wake up.

I am laying on my back, on dry grass. I am naked. A chill wind brushes my nipples, and blows my shoulder-length hair over my mouth.

I open my eyes. The night sky is spread out above me, the stars bright and clear.

I glance from side to side, tilting my head slightly, wincing as my hair blows into one eye.

I do not see the Big Dipper. I do not see Orion's belt. I do not see the Milky Way.

There are six full moons in six different colours. One of them is behind another, and winks as I look at it.

The dimension shift was a success.

I sit up and look around, as my ocular firmware finishes booting up.

HEADS-UP DISPLAY ONLINE
PRIORITY: LOCATE UNIT T-1 232

I am sitting on top of a grassy hill. A temperate forest spreads out behind me, leaves rustling in the wind. At the foot of the hill is a dilapidated farmstead, a house with long, run-down greenhouses behind it. My display outlines the buildings as it analyzes them, zooming in on their features in pop-up windows.

SIGNS OF RECENT HABITATION

- DOORLATCH FREE OF DUST
- ROOFTOP SOLAR PANEL AND SATELLITE DISH
- CABLES RUNNING FROM ROOF TO INTERIOR
- SHED CONTAINING KEROSENE GENERATOR (DEACTIVATED)
- WORN FOOTPATH LEADING FROM BACK DOOR TO GREENHOUSE 03

My display helpfully gives each greenhouse a number.

I switch to infrared, then thaumic, the mode that lets me "see magic." There are no heat signatures besides my own body, but under thaumic the world is a wash of colours. The moons' light looks like it's filtered through a kaleidoscope, and far in the distance – too far for me to gauge – a massive humanoid figure strides through the hills. I can only see it by its bright yellow glow.

I turn around and look at the forest. It's a lot darker there, but there are tall, pale blue silhouettes lined up just at the treeline, invisible on infrared or the spectrum of visible light. They appear to be watching me.

I look away quickly, careful not to make eye contact. Directing my gaze back down at the buildings.

Something in Greenhouse 03 is glowing a deep, dark purple. Corruption magic.

I wonder if this is what compromised T-1 232.

I wonder if it is T-1 232.

I get up, my back to the forest, and watch my step as I walk down the hill towards the farmhouse.

The front door creaks as I open it.

I step inside and look down at the inner handle. Then up, at the deadbolt. The latch on it's slightly warm.

LOCK RECENTLY DISENGAGED
HUMAN FINGERPRINTS DETECTED
FEMININE, HEIGHT ~145 CM

Shorter than me, then.

A progress bar traces along the pop-up showing the fingerprints, then flashes "NO MATCH" at me.

I wonder if the farmhouse's occupant ran out to watch when the Dimension Field Device dropped me here. I don't know how flashy or loud it is.

Perhaps they are trying to maintain the illusion that this building is abandoned.

The front room is dark. It appears to span the length of the house, with a table and chairs to one side and a bar counter in between two doors leading back. The ceiling is vaulted, with a single unlit lightbulb suspended from the chandelier mount by a cable. There's a circular switch on one side of the socket. The cable goes back through the open door on the right.

The room smells of must, from old carpet and wood. I can feel particles in the thick carpet beneath my bare feet as I step on it, pebbles from outside or splinters of wood perhaps.

I shut the door behind me, and it rattles as I close it. I move quietly towards the back rooms, following the cord from the lightbulb.

The cable goes through a North American style kitchen, circa 1970 CE. It's suspended from the ceiling by tiny strips of metal that are bent into hooks. Large chunks of the kitchen's particle board countertop are missing, but there is a pot in the sink, and a kettle and hot plate are off to one side. There's no electrical hum coming from the stove or refrigerator.

I sniff the air, but the open window has long since blown away any traces of dinner. There's something fragrant on the wind, though, like flowers or fruit. Unlike the fingerprints, I can't analyze it in any more detail than an untrained human could.

The cable leads me through an open doorway, into a short hallway spanning the back of the house. There are two doors, and the one the cable goes into is already open a crack.

I step inside, the door creaking to accommodate me, and look around.

It appears to be someone's bedroom. And it's much darker in here, since the curtains are drawn over the open window the cable goes out through.

Wireframe outlines flash across the furniture, in the dark, as my LiDAR scans the room. I smell a significant amount of dust as I approach the bed, and can see the buildup on top of the dresser on infrared. I'm unable to determine how long it's been since it's been used, without knowing how long the window's been open and how much dust is deposited from outside. But I'm pretty sure it's been awhile.

The sliding door to the closet is off its rails, leaned up against the wall to the side. LiDAR wireframes wash over the women's clothes on the rack, as I look at them.

CLOTHING ANALYSIS:
90-100% MATCH

My muscles contract in an involuntary shiver, as a gust of wind sends the curtains flapping in my direction. The hairs on my bare skin stand on end.

I brush the dust off before pulling on some kind of athletic bra, from one of the hangers, plus a t-shirt and a very warm sweater. There's underwear in my size in one of the dresser drawers, along with some scuffed-looking jeans.

I hear the floorboards creaking outside the room as I get dressed, and correlate them to a human of slender build, 145 cm in height, who is moving slowly and quietly. I have no reason to interrupt, but I do try to finish zipping up the jeans before they-

A girl with messy white hair barges in and turns on the light, wearing a long white nightshirt and carrying a shotgun that's longer than she is tall. "Don't move! Hands where I can-"

I look up at her, as I finish buttoning the jeans on.

She gasps and almost drops the shotgun, one hand going straight to her mouth as she stares at my face.

"Hello," I say. "Have you seen someone who looks exactly like me?"

"So. You actually came."

I am seated across from her, at the small, square wooden table in the kitchen. I can see her cel-shaded facial features in the moonslight from the open window, and the thin ink outline surrounding them. She's a living anime girl.

FEMININE HUMANOID INSTANCE OF SCI-9999-6
UNABLE TO DETERMINE AGE

Her shotgun is propped up in the corner. This tells me that she doesn't see me as a threat.

"You're Angel, right?" She leans closer and looks up at me.

"Yes," I lie.

T-1 232 must have introduced herself using my original name.

"Except, you're not. You're another T-1 Unit, sent to check up on her."

"Correct," I lie. "May I see her? Also, why do you live in a darkened house?"

"Shh! Keep it down." She waves her hands in a downward motion at me. "The American soldiers think this place is abandoned. I want to keep it that way."

"Are you aware that you have left your solar panel and satellite internet dish out on the roof, where anyone can see them?"

"Crap!"

She runs out of the kitchen and into the abandoned bedroom. I hear her climb out the window, and equipment scraping across the roof.

I consider offering to help. I think I'd just get in the way.

She comes back, dusting her hands and knees off before sitting down across from me again. "Okay. Where was I?"

"American soldiers," I offer.

"Right. They do a regular patrol of the Otherside."

"Other side?" I ask.

"Here. The other side of reality. They're here on the Otherside with us, and they've got guns that can put down the monster girls, even the magical ones. I saw them stun a Succubus into submission, before-"

"Monster girls?" I ask.

"Ahhhhh yes. Well." She twirls a finger in her ear, before wiping it off on her nightshirt. "You're completely new here. Right? Just woke up on the hillside like she did."

"Correct."

"Well, this place is the other side of a whole lot of different realities." She holds out one hand, while leaning her elbow on the table. "And one of 'em used to be a stereotypical fantasy world, with elves and goblins and shite, before the Succubi took over and made everyone other than humans into sexy, lascivious monster girls. Who live to seduce men."

CORRELATING WITH FICTIONAL REFERENCES: 10+ MATCHES FOUND

- MONSTER GIRL ENCYCLOPEDIA I
- MONSTER GIRL ENCYCLOPEDIA II
- MONSTER GIRL ENCYCLOPEDIA WORLD GUIDE-

I look past the scrolling text at her. "I see. Are you a monster girl?"

I switch to thaumic, but she's the same dark blue as the kitchen's background, past the kaleidoscope of light from the window. Her EVE and Akiva readings are normal.

"Hells no!" She stands up, pushing the chair back and putting her hands on the table. "I've seen what they do to women! Up close!"

A text box appears next to her outline.

PROBABILITY OF AGE 18+: 90 PERCENT

"What do they do to women?" I ask.

"Turn us into more of them."

"I see. Are the American soldiers protecting you from them?"

She blinks, then staggers back into her chair and squirms her bare legs, looking away. "They don't care if the girls they find are monsters or not. If you catch my drift."

A text box appears, which explains her "drift" in detail. I don't need to read it.

"Thank you for enlightening me about this world's dangers. What is your name?"

"K-kozakura." She looks away, blushing.

"Thank you, Kozakura. May I see Angel, now?"

She shakes her head, still looking away.

"I just need to speak with her," I lie. "It's important."

Kozakura mumbles something I can barely hear.

"What is that?"

She coughs into one fist. "If you don't want to end up like she did, you'll go back home right now."

"What happened to her?"

Kozakura's blush intensifies, but she manages to meet my gaze and gestures wildly with her hands. "I'm serious! You don't want it to happen to-" Her hands freeze, mid-gesture. "I mean, it depends on how much you like-"

Realistic, non-exaggerated sweat starts to drip down her face. Apparently, this world is not a gag anime.

"Angel became a monster girl," I tell Kozakura.

She makes a gagging noise.

"She is in the greenhouse that has a worn footpath leading up to it. You check up on her regularly. She does not leave. You are afraid that if I make contact with her, she will turn me into a monster girl as well."

"H-how did you-"

"I see everything," I tell her. "Now, may I see her?"

I am standing outside the greenhouse. There are lights in the forest, in the distance, along with the sound of engines. Thanks to the lights, I can see a bulbous silhouette through the greenhouse's translucent plastic tarp. It's shaped a bit like an onion, on top of a short, leafy stem.

"You're sure she can't change you?" Kozakura is keeping close to me, her arms wrapped around herself, barefoot and still wearing only her nightshirt and spats.

"I am actually a T-2 Unit, a more advanced model of cyborg," I explain. "I do not just have a black box recorder. I have a hybrid nervous system: One human cortex, one machine. If one of my cortices is compromised, the other can still complete my mission."

"R-right." She stamps her foot for some reason, looking away and squirming her legs urgently.

"Do you need to use a restroom?" I ask.

"Just hurry up and say what you have to!" she yells, looking up at me and blushing furiously.

I hear the sound of movement, from inside the greenhouse. Leaves unfurling, large petals rustling, as the "onion" blooms into a flower the size of a twin bed. I hear a feminine yawn, and see a nude silhouette stretch, as the flower unfurls completely and the girl inside wakes up.

I smell something sweet, rich, and inviting.

My face is suddenly flush with arousal. I switch my vision to thaumic, and realize that being this close to the source of the corruption magic is affecting me.

THAUMIC GENERATOR ONLINE
PREPARING COUNTERCYCLE

A progress bar traces along that text box, as I hear a voice that sounds like my own, but deeper and sexier. "Have you brought me another gift, Kozakura dear?"

I suddenly feel nervous, and do not know how to respond.

COUNTERCYCLE ACTIVE
99.8% EFFICIENCY

I realize that I was holding my breath, and let it out as the arousal dissipates. Along with my sense of smell, which is automatically muted by my machine cortex.

"Is that a new girl I hear? Who's out there, Kozakura dear? You know I'm saving this spot for you ~ "

I take a deep breath, before speaking in a clear voice. "Deactivate. Deactivate. Gold Enemy Aneurysm Suggestion."

"Urk!"

The silhouette twitches at an odd angle, shivering for a second, before going limp.

"W-wait." Kozakura looks up at me. "What did you do to her?"

"I-"

A noblewoman's laugh, from inside the greenhouse. The silhouette holds one hand up to her mouth as she quivers with laughter. "Oh my. They didn't tell me about that one. It probably would've worked, if I still had a meat brain to zap."

"I see."

"Go on, try it again! It's actually kind of invigorating," she purrs.

I start walking briskly, back around to the farmhouse's entrance. My heads-up display outlines my new objective: Kozakura's shotgun, still leaning up against the wall in the kitchen.

As soon as I round the corner, Kozakura runs in front of me and spreads her arms wide to block the front door. "What are you doing? You're trying to kill her!"

"Move," I tell her.

"I'm not m-" She glances off to the side, and her eyes dilate as a vehicle's headlights shine on us.

I turn to look, and she frantically scrambles away.

My LiDAR sweeps over a formation of vehicles, and outlines it as my heads-up display analyzes them. There's an armoured truck, with something big and mechanical on the flatbed, and two light tanks behind it.

M1083 MEDIUM TACTICAL VEHICLE, UNRECOGNIZED PAYLOAD
M1126 STRYKER INFANTRY CARRIER VEHICLE, ~5 PASSENGERS
M1126 STRYKER INFANTRY CARRIER VEHICLE, ~6 PASSENGERS
US ARMY MARKINGS, CIRCA 2011-2018 CE

They won't recognize me, then. In their world I haven't been built yet.

I stand there for several minutes, my arms at my sides, waiting for the vehicles to pull up and the soldiers inside to dismount. Most of them have stubble; all of them look young. They have very poor weapon discipline, letting their rifles hang off their arms on their straps like a woman's handbag, as they stretch their arms and legs. Some of them visibly leer at me.

They're almost as bad as the late IDF, I think. Maybe they trained with them.

My heads-up display analyzes the one who approaches me, his own rifle slung tightly over his shoulder.

MASCULINE HUMANOID INSTANCE OF SCI-9999-6
AGE 20-30
RANK E-8
NAME PATCH READS "SOLKOWSKY"

"Who are you, and what are you doing out here?" he asks me in English.

"Are you single?" someone calls out behind him. A couple of them laugh.

"Give me your weapon," I tell him.

He frowns. The soldiers behind him laugh.

"I need your rifle, and a grenade launcher. Give them to me. Now." My heads-up display outlines each of the soldiers in targetting brackets.

"Ma'am, do you understand where you are?"

"Hell," one of the soldiers says. "This is hell, and we're the demons!"

"You did that demon last week, bro!" They grab each other's hands, in a gesture which looks like arm-wrestling.

"Cut the chatter!" Master Sergeant Solkowsky shouts, before turning back around to face me, his grip on the rifle's hilt. "Ma'am, this is a restricted area. I'm going to need you to come with us for your protection."

That prompts giggles all around.

I take a deep breath. "Give me your gun, or I will kill you all."

An awkward silence ensues.

Solkowsky scratches the back of his neck. "Ma'am, how should I put thi-"

I run at him, locking the arm he was scratching with behind his back and using his body as a shield, before grabbing onto his rifle arm and spraying the soldiers down using his trigger finger.

The recoil is easy to manage.

Two of them drop, in a spray of blood. A third falls down clutching his leg. The others take cover inside and outside the Strykers, and one of them climbs up onto the truck's flatbed towards the machine. I wrench the gun away from Solkowsky and headshot that soldier around him, before smashing the butt of it into Solkowsky's face.

Blood splashes onto the side of mine.

"Return fire!" someone shouts. Targetting brackets outline the soldiers peering out from behind cover and firing wildly. A shot grazes my chin; another, my leg. One pierces my side below the ribcage, blood spilling down from the wound at both ends. I feel a flash of pain before my machine cortex takes it for me.

I duck behind the front of the truck, counting their full-automatic shots and popping out to crack open their faces as soon as they empty their mags. Some of them show better discipline, and try to find better cover, but they're outlined based on the sound of their movement. I kill two more of them as they run past.

The truck driver revs the engine. I brace my shoulder against it, and my feet (in Angel's shoes) dig furrows into the dirt path. For a moment, I check the truck's movement.

I reach up, and fire blindly over the hood at the cab, emptying the rifle's magazine.

The driver hits reverse and spins backwards at an angle, running over the soldier with the injured leg and slamming into one of the Strykers. The truck knocks it to one side before pulling away again, wheels spinning.

Brackets outline a soldier manning the gun turret on the Stryker in back, and aiming it at me.

Without any cover or ammunition left, I throw the rifle away and run straight at that soldier, arms in front of my face. .50 caliber bullets tear through my clothes and flesh, sending strips of skin and fat flying that used to be one of my breasts, and bounce off of my metal endoskeleton.

I jump up onto the machine, and the ricochet from the gun turret's shots at close range puts two holes through the man's cheek and arm. He falls back into the Stryker, eyes rolling in back of his head.

I register movement on the truck's flatbed again, and hear the hum of electric capacitors. I turn my head, and see a soldier mounted on an exotic rotating gun turret, pointing it at me. The front end has no apertures, and looks like a bulky, ribbed, ceramic tuning fork. I cannot determine what ammunition it uses.

I lean over and grab the Stryker's turret, and spray from the truck's cab to the man operating the anomalous weapon with .50 cal shots. I register splashes of hot blood, in the cab and the turret's seat, on infrared-

THWUMP.

There is no muzzle flash or energy pulse, on the visible spectrum. But there's an enormous spike of dark blue thaumic energy. And my thaumic generator, the one thing that's magical about me, shuts down.

My heads-up display vanishes. A moment later, so does my eyesight.

I fall, rolling off of the Stryker and sprawling out face-down in the dirt. One of my glass eyes gets chipped by a rock, and it's the one injury I can't feel.

I am weighed down by my inert endoskeleton. I cannot move more than an inch or two, and that with extreme effort. I can barely breathe.

I am in incredible pain. All over.

My machine cortex is not functioning. I am unable to disassociate. All I can do is feel pain. So much pain.

I try to scream, but I can barely open my mouth or catch my breath.

It takes what feels like forever before Kozakura runs out to check on me. She screams "oh my GOD!" over the truck's engine noise.

I try to call out to her, but I can't. All I can do is twitch uselessly, and spend all of my effort on forcing my lungs to breathe in their metal cage. Short, rapid breaths, as the blood pooling under my open wounds reaches my cheek.

It's supposed to coagulate rapidly, when exposed to air. It hasn't yet. Perhaps that was a function of my thaumic generator, and not of my blood's chemical composition.

It has been a minute of endless pain, and my machine cortex has not booted up.

Kozakura checks me for a pulse, and jumps back a second after she finds one, shocked. "Oh God oh God oh God ... "

I manage a tinny scream, but I don't know if she can hear it.

She tries to lift me up by my arm, but stops. It's too heavy for her to lift it more than a foot or so off the ground. "Fffffuck! FUCK!" She stops, and gasps, and drops it.

I cannot turn my head to look at her, but I hear her having a panic attack.

She finally chokes it back, and then runs off. I hear the truck's door open, and Kozakura screams as a dead body falls out of the cab.

I lose track of what she does next. I am starting to feel light headed. I don't know if I will be able to continue breathing after I pass out, since it takes so much effort.

The pool of blood has reached my hair.

The truck's engine noise changes pitch, and I hear it crunching the dirt path about five metres away from me before stopping. She's going to back it up over me a few times to make sure I'm dead, I think.

It's what I'd do.

Instead, I hear the door to the cab open, and Kozakura's lightweight footsteps running towards the back of the truck. Then I hear cable unwinding, coming towards me.

She grunts with exertion, trying to lift me up by my shoulder, just enough to slip a tow cable's hook into- no, around my arm. Cradling it by the armpit. "This is probably gonna hurt, so uh, scream all you want, okay?"

I try to nod, but can barely manage a wiggle.

She runs back to the cab, and it's about half a minute before she finds the right lever and throws it. The tow cable retracts, dragging me across the ground. Dust gets in my nose, and a rock tears my cheek, cutting it straight to the metal. Angel's sweater is now draped limply across one of my arms and my waist, and is soaked in human blood.

Mine.

I feel myself being lifted up, as the cable retracts all the way. It pinches the flesh underneath my shoulder before it stops.

It hurts terribly.

I scream as she drives the truck like that, my spine arched and my arms and legs battered by the ground.

It's less than a minute before she stops. But it takes her what feels like another five minutes to detach me from the tow cable and drag me by my arm, the last ten feet or so to the greenhouse.

"Oh my God," Monster Girl Angel says. This interests me, because it suggests that monster girls believe in God.

So do I, I think. It's a miracle that I haven't passed out yet.

Or a diabolic curse.

I know what they're going to try to do, now. And I really want to pass out first.

But I don't. I'm lucid enough to follow their conversation, even though I'm sprawled out on my side with both of them behind me. The anticoagulants and natural painkillers must have kicked in. It also helps that Kozakura cut the engine before dragging me here.

"You said they'd send a cyborg after you," she pants, sounding out of breath. "You didn't mention a freaking Terminator!"

"I didn't know they had those!"

"Well, this one just saved your life. And mine. And now she's shut down and bleedin' out." Kozakura's still panting, even though it sounds like she's caught her breath.

Something smells very sweet and enticing.

"Good!" Angel yells. "Let her!"

"Angel, if you don't let her into that flower with you ... t-then I'm coming in myself." I hear her knees knocking against each other.

"Don't threaten me with a good time ~ "

"That means no more gifts."

This stops Angel short.

"And the soldiers are all dead now. So you're not getting any Essence from them, either, if that's what you're thinking."

"..."

"Do you want me to give you more time to decide? She's bleeding out, here!"

"We don't even know if the nectar can do that." I hear something slosh, as Angel shifts position.

"It healed your wounds!"

"My wounds weren't mortal!" Something splashes, from Angel's direction.

I feel something sticky and sweet-smelling splatter across my cheek. It overpowers the smell of blood, and an intense tingling overcomes the pain in that area. It's the best anaesthetic that I can imagine.

I want to taste it, just for a second. Just long enough to know what it's like.

"Do you hear that?" Kozakura asks, from close enough that she must be crouched next to me. "She's relaxing already. Her breathing eased up as soon as it touched her."

"W-well ... fine, then. She can have some for the pain."

"I already told you, let her in there or I'm coming in myself!" Kozakura's breathing sure hasn't relaxed. She sounds extremely on edge as she stands erect.

"How are you going to get her in the flower? You had to use a truck to drag her over here!"

"Then help me! Use your vines!"

"I don't know how to control them!"

I'm losing track of this conversation fast. It sounds like it's all about someone else, as reality starts drifting away. I just can't muster the energy to keep pushing air in and out of my metal rib cage, at the rate I need to in order to stay conscious. Not when the nectar has me this relaxed.

"Use your arms!" Kozakura shouts.

I can feel Kozakura pull me from laying on my side to laying on my back, my wounds and bare rib cage exposed to the air. And I hear Angel gasp when she does so.

"Alright," Angel says, quietly.

Kozakura wedges some kind of farm implement, a shovel I think, behind my back, and uses it as a lever. To get my shoulders up onto the wooden platform that the flower is on, and within Angel's reach.

I feel Angel's cool, smooth bare arms wrap under my shoulders and pull, at the same time as Kozakura wedges the shovel under my butt and levers me upwards. They're both straining with exertion, fighting my weight, trying to do the impossible.

I am completely limp, and not helping at all. I wonder if I'll be awake enough to know what it feels like?

I feel something soft but firm rub the back of my head, then the back of my neck, as they pull it up over the lip of the flower. "Almost there-"

It gives way, folding under my weight, and my head and chest are engulfed in the viscous liquid as it pours over me from inside. I barely feel it when Angel drops me back onto the floor, my head hitting the wooden platform from several feet up.

I barely hear it as they yell at each other, until my head lolls to one side and the liquid slides out of the ear that's facing the ground.

"-THINKING!" Kozakura shouts. "We've still got to get her inside!"

"Uhh ... no we don't."

I hear a hissing noise, like something evaporating. After a moment of that, it's much easier to breathe. The weight on my chest is just gone.

So is the pain.

"I think we killed her."

"I think you killed her! How was I supposed to know that the nectar would-"

I lick my lips, and taste pure syrupy pleasure. The inside of my mouth burns and tingles, and I barely notice the foaming and sizzling at the metal roots of my teeth.

I smile, and finally pass out.

Foxily Anticipated Questions for Chapter One

Q. Does TYRANT believe in God?

A. She's very loosely Protestant Christian. It was part of her design spec.

Q. What was-

A. TO BE CONTINUED!

Q. Wait-

Chapter Text

Author's Note: I forgot to add the Body Horror tag to this fic when I started it. Whoops! Doing so now ~

I am laying on my back, my head propped up on the wooden platform the flower is on. I am still inside the greenhouse.

I do not feel any pain. But I feel incredibly weak, and cold. The breeze caresses my bare legs and chest, and is making me shiver.

I open my eyes, and see the plastic tarp covering the greenhouse, rustling at the edge in the breeze. It's starting to get light out.

I wait for my ocular firmware to boot up and give me my heads-up display.

I wait. And wait. And wait.

I decide that it must have been taken offline.

I sit up, and feel something tugging at my side.

I remember what happened last night. Then I remember what happened afterwards.

I take a deep breath, and prepare to disassociate before looking down at myself.

Recognizing your body is dangerous, in these alternate worlds. They have laws of physics that make it necessary to submit to their rules, on a physical level. To let your body and mind be warped, and twisted, and violated. Something as simple as seeing your own reflection, after being transformed, can flip a switch in your brain and make you into something else.

Into a predator, or someone's prey.

But I need to determine how badly I've been transformed. So I look down at my hands.

They're slender, and light pink. The same as before.

I note that they have an ink outline. They probably did since I got here. Alternate worlds usually render you in their art style, so to speak. I just need to remember that I'm a TYRANT-2 Unit before I'm an anime girl.

The biggest change is that ... my chest looks kind of emaciated. One of my breasts is deflated; the other, nonexistent. Even the nipple is gone. The bones of my ribcage stand out, my skin taut over them. Also, my belly looks and feels bloated, and there's a greyish tint to my skin down there. It almost looks like I'm pregnant.

I look further down, and see a dark green vine looped through my side below my rib cage. It's as thick as the bullet hole that it goes through.

I follow the vine that's impaling me, to each end. Behind me, it seems to go back to the base of the flower. Above, it stretches up into a bud, about the size of my fist. The flower itself is pulled tight into an onion shape, guarding its precious nectar and resident monster girl. I can barely smell the sweet scent.

I look around for an implement I can cut the vine with. A sharp rock, or a piece of glass. I see a metal shovel near me, and pick it up by its handle, but it's a lot heavier than I thought it was. How did Kozakura manage it? I gasp for breath, after pulling it into my lap, and think better of trying to cut the vine with it. I'm not sure it's a good idea to expose myself to any more of this plant's fluids, anyway.

Or wake it up.

I stand up slowly, holding myself up on the shovel, pushing it into the dirt. With one hand I feed the vine through the hole in my side, inch by inch. I smell rust, and feel liquid slosh through my belly and splash on my hand.

I hold my hand up and look at the liquid. It looks like water, but it's filled with a gritty residue. It's where the rust smell is coming from.

It must have corroded my generator, I think, and my endoskeleton. I'm probably running on only, like, 10 millithaums. My human cortex is running unaided, which is why it's so hard to think.

Or move. Or stand.

Or get this goddamn vine out of my body.

I pull. And pull. And pull. The rust smell intensifies, and my forearm gets covered in rusty water. At least it isn't transforming me.

I'm still faced with the fist-sized bud, though, and the prospect of pulling it through a hole less than an inch wide.

I squeeze my eyes shut, and grit my teeth. Then I set the shovel aside, standing up on my own strength, and cover the strip of flesh outside the hole with my other hand. To keep it from tearing apart.

Finally, I pull.

There's an audible POP, and the rusty, contaminated water that was sloshing around my midsection all pours out in a rush.

It doesn't hurt. I don't see my vital organs pour out with it. I just feel it drain out, for almost a full minute, until my skin hangs loose from my midriff. I gasp with relief, and shiver.

Whatever the fuck just happened, I think I'm okay with it. Body horror is strictly better than sexual corruption.

At least it doesn't make you like it.

I'm not bleeding from anywhere, as I stagger up to the farmhouse. I check the hole in my side repeatedly, with my wet hand, and put my dry hand to my face. But neither turn red and sticky.

I try to think how I'm going to explain myself to Kozakura. It suddenly seems urgent, in a way that it didn't when I was ready to break her arm to get her to move from the doorway. I'm nervous. I feel like my life's in her hands, and possibly Angel's.

I guess my machine cortex wasn't just showing me pop-ups. It must have also been supressing this ... this intense social anxiety. I hope it comes back online soon.

I hope it can.

The air is so cold, on the parts of my skin that are still wet.

I need to dry off. I need to find clothes.

I need to beg these two to forgive me.

And then, I still need to somehow carry out my mission. Without removing T-1 232's black box, because there is no freaking way that I'm getting up close and personal with her again. Especially not with my eyes open. I still don't know what she looks like, and I don't ever want to find out.

I'd probably turn instantly if I did.

The front door is unlocked, still. I stagger inside, and shakily shut it behind me.

The pebbles and grit in the carpet sting my feet as I walk.

I don't have a pop-up window to tell me. But my primary objective, I think, is to find a towel and dry off.

Or is it? Because by the time I arrive back in Angel's abandoned bedroom, I appear to have dried off completely. My skin feels smooth and sensitive, where it got soaked, but it's not wet at all.

I blame the wind outside.

I find more panties and jeans, a t-shirt, and a warm sweater vest that exposes my arms. Then I put them all on, shakily.

Something clatters in the other bedroom, while I'm doing that. I hear the thump of Kozakura's feet on the floor, and the familiar sounds of someone loading a shotgun.

(Was it unloaded when she confronted me last night? That would've made things awkward. I would've had to ransack Kozakura's place until I found shells.)

Finally, I hear her throw her door open and rush down the hallway, before pointing the gun at my-

She squeaks and falls backwards, dropping the shotgun and scrambling away on her hands and feet. Gasping for breath, and staring at me in sheer terror.

I give her a nervous look, and try to stop shaking.

Finally she catches her breath, and pushes herself partway up the wall. "I-is this Angel again?" she asks.

I nod.

"A-are you going to ask if I've seen two people who look exactly like you?!"

I blink.

"B-because look. The first one got monsterized, and the second one-"

"I am the second one," I interrupt.

Her eyes widen, like she's seen a ghost.

I am sitting at her kitchen table again. The window is closed, and the air's a bit stuffy but warm.

Kozakura picks up the kettle, and pours it into a coffee pot. "H-how do you like your coffee?" she stammers.

"How do I like my coffee?" I ask myself.

"I, uh. I have no idea. But I've got powdered creamer, uh, sugar-"

"Yes, to both." I'm programmed to remember what those taste like, now that she's mentioned them.

An infiltrator unit that can't participate in social rituals is worthless.

She pulls the other chair a bit away from the table, sitting down in it at an angle and pulling her knees up to hug them. "How, uh, how are you feeling?" she asks, giving me a curious look.

"Like I got dragged by a truck."

"Erk." Sweat streaks her brow.

"It's okay." I close my eyes. "You and Angel saved my life. Now we are even."

"We did?" I look up in time to see her blink. "Oh, uh. Ha ha, we did! Yes, we did, ha ha ha ... "

I tilt my head.

"S-so, are you, uh-" She coughs into one hand, and looks over at the kitchen counter as she speaks. "Are you still gonna try to get her black box?"

I look down at the table.

I want to say yes. I need to say yes, even though I'm afraid. My entire life was made for this purpose. If I can't carry it out, then I've failed. Existentially.

"L-look, I know this is really important to you," Kozakura gulps, "but I really think you should reconsider-"

"No." I close my eyes again, and squeeze my hands into fists.

"You ... aren't going to reconsider, then."

I shake my head. "I'm not going to try to get her black box. I just need access to your telecommunications equipment, so I can send a message back to my core unit. To tell her this world is unsuitable, and what happened to the T-1."

"You need my, er, what?"

"Please let me use your computer." I give her a nervous look.

She blinks. Then, she lets out her breath. "Wait 'till you've had your coffee first."

The coffee smells earthy, warm. Glorious.

I want to hold the mug in both hands, but it's too hot except for the handle. Instead I inhale the steam deeply, before blowing on it and taking a sip.

It's the second-best thing that I've ever tasted.

A thought occurs to me. "Could you add some more sugar to this?" I ask.

"Uh, sure! Help yourself." Kozakura gestures at the coffee supplies on the counter, from where she's stirring a pot of noodles on the hot plate. "Do you want any ramen?"

I think about that, while I get up and start spooning sugar into my coffee, then shake my head. "I am not hungry."

"Oh. Uh, did you have nectar for breakfast then?"

I have to think about that. Does what the vine did to me count? Whatever it was.

I finally shake my head. "No. Do you have nectar for breakfast sometimes?"

"O-oh. Uh." Her knees shake, on the stepstool she brought out. "I-it kind of goes bad really quickly, so I get it while it's still fresh ... "

"I see." I look away, blushing.

"Yeah." I hear her gulp. "A-and I can only eat a small amount, because otherwise it'll transform me."

"How much is a small amount?"

"A spoonful. Or two." She winces. "Or three or four or five ... "

I remember being engulfed in it, at least on my head and chest. It's the kind of thing you can't forget. It's like taking a bath in a river of cum.

... or. Um. Something else that you'd actually want to take a bath in? Which, I definitely would not want to bathe in a-

"Can I be honest with you?" She gives me a nervous look. "Before I got satellite internet and drone delivery set up, I basically lived on that nectar for like, a week. Two bowls of it, every day. I was scared to eat any more of it than that."

"Because you saw what it did to Angel," I finish for her.

She nods fast. "Yeah. And uh, let's just say it did interesting things to my gut flora. And my hair. And my sweat. I couldn't even wear clothes, or they'd vaporize. I ended up getting a detox kit and a rubber raincoat to wear, off of Amazon, and was sick as a dog for a month afterward. I couldn't even eat meat, and I love meat!"

"I see." I nod sympathetically, and make a mental note to watch out for these symptoms in myself. "I didn't realize the nectar could dissolve clothes, but that would explain why I woke up naked."

"Y-yeah, uh ... it does that! And stuff." I notice her knees shaking again.

I'm not sure why.

"Also, uh, you've put like ten spoonfuls of sugar in that, are you gonna be able to drink it?" She points at the coffee mug.

I blink and look down at it, my hand frozen in mid-scoop.

I let the spoon drop into the sugar container, and take a tentative sip of the coffee.

It's almost the first best thing that I've ever tasted.

I nod to her, and go to sit down at the table again.

"So, uh. How are you doing this, exactly?"

I'm seated at the table still, with Kozakura's PineBook open in front of me. She's standing behind me, peering over my shoulder intently as I open an incognito window in Firefox.

"By rerouting the signal through multiple cross-dimensional Thresholds, I am able to send a transmission to TYR-" I cough into one hand. "To my core unit," I finish.

"Huh."

"It's the same thing I'm guessing that you do, to order from Amazon drones."

"I kind of just wrote a script to ping every IP address that contained Theta Prime, 'till I found one that went through. A-and then another one, that didn't summon any bears." I see her wince, in the screen's reflection.

"Right." I nod, familiar with both anomalous integers and equations which solve for bears.

"So, uh. What're you waiting for, exactly?"

I look up at her. "I'm trying to figure out how to word this ... and what to tell her."

"Her? The AI in charge is a girl?" She blinks.

"The artificial consciousness in charge is me." I gesture at myself. "This unit is an autonomous extension of myself. So was Angel, until she was compromised."

"Ah, huh, when you put it like that ... " She looks away, rubbing the back of her neck.

"How was she compromised?" I ask her. "What is she, now?"

Kozakura looks like she's about to say something, then sighs. She picks up the laptop and brings it over to the other side of the small table, then sits down and types something in before showing it to me.

It's a fan wiki entry for Liliraune.

"The Alraune is a type of plant," she explains, "that looks like a hot woman inside a nectar-filled flower. It feeds on, uhhh," her expression wavers as her hands wobble in front of her. "Masculine emissions?"

Sweat streaks down her forehead.

"T-those contain Essence, which is a type of yang-aligned energy produced by all humans. Especially males." She gulps.

My face is starting to redden, but I ignore it and point at the screen. "This flower has two women in it."

"Y-yeah, that's a Liliraune. Because 'lily' means 'yuri,' get it? Girls' love."

I blink. "So, lesbian ... Alraune ... conjoined twins."

"Yeah, exactly!" She holds her hand out as though to say 'see, you get it!'

I nod.

"Except they're more like bisexual, since they still feed on Essence. And the, uh, f-fluids which carry it." She squirms her legs together. "They just. Hold the victim between each other's b-breasts." She gulps. "Supposedly they make better nectar that way."

Her face is as red as a cherry, as she stares a hole into the table. I also notice my breathing starting to deepen, and the skin beneath my armpits prickling with sweat. I don't know if it's because we're talking about something erotic, or because we've both had intimate, first-hand contact with this anomaly.

"There's only one of her, though." I hold up one hand, breaking the spell.

"Okay, well, here's the thing." Kozakura drinks from a cup of water, shakily, before speaking again. "When we found the flower, together, there was no one in it. Just a big ol' bathtub full of nectar."

"I see." My blush intensifies.

"I had ... experience ... dealing with Otherside garbage. Or at least, dealing with people who had. I went with them a couple of times, before Walpurgisnacht. Armed to the teeth and scared shitless each time. So to me, it was obvious this was a trap."

I nod. "But, not to Angel."

Kozakura facepalms. "God damn that woman! She buried her face in the nectar, guzzling it down and splashing it onto me." She looks up. "She was all 'this is great, try it! try it!' And I was like 'uh, my clothes are dissolving ... '"

I blush, and Kozakura gulps. "A-and then she was all, 'i-in that case let me get some more on you ... '"

Her voice trails off, as her face flushes bright red. I can feel my sides covered in sweat, now.

Kozakura downs the rest of the cup of water, and slams it on the table. "A-anyway, you can probably guess what happened next!"

I shake my head, blushing as hard as she is and having trouble meeting her gaze.

"God dammit." She facepalms again, more softly this time, and takes deep breaths to steady herself. "Look ... you've probably guessed that we're lovers, by now."

Kozakura peers through her fingers at me, and I nod.

"She ... it didn't even pull her in or anything. The vines just sort of tripped her up, and she fell in." Kozakura swallows. "And when she stood up, this bud released and poured even more nectar on her ... and then she was part of the Liliraune. And then she couldn't get out."

"Also, you were naked." I blush.

"Let me tell the story, okay?!" She groans. "Yes, I was naked. It was embarrassing, sure. But Angel ... she was desperate. Starving with lust. She wanted me in there with her, so bad. Never to leave her again. I had to promise that I wouldn't leave her, over and over again, before she believed me. And to this day, I don't think she does. Even after I replanted her here at our base. She hides it, but being alone there is killing her on the inside."

Kozakura gives me what feels like a meaningful look. I blush hard and look away, and take a deep breath before speaking again. "Is that why you wanted to feed me to her?" I ask.

She makes a gagging sound, and nearly falls over in her chair.

"I don't have any room to complain." I close my eyes. "I did try to kill her. And dousing me in her nectar appears to have saved my life."

"Y-yeah, how 'bout that!" Kozakura laughs nervously.

I look up. "This transformation is permanent, though, isn't it? There's no way to change her back. And whomever ends up in there with her will become just as thirsty as she is, and won't even want to be human again."

"Or cyborg! You're, uh, still a cyborg, right?" She gives me a nervous look.

"My heads-up display is nonfunctional. I am receiving zero feedback from my electronic cognitive unit, and am unable to regulate my emotions or resist corruption as well." I frown. "Also, the power assist is barely enough to lift up my endoskeleton."

"Uhh, don't look now, but-"

I hear the hissing as well, and look over at the cooking pot. "Did you leave the hot plate turned on?"

"No, your clothes!" She points at my sides.

I look down, and see the sleeveless sweater curling up and dissolving where it got soaked in my sweat. "Fuck."

I stand up and start taking my top off, and Kozakura instantly runs out of the room. "I-I'll fetch you my raincoat!"

I toss the dissolving clothes in a pile, but the hissing near me hasn't stopped.

I look down at my jeans, and sigh.

"I don't know why my bodily fluids didn't dissolve rubber, when I OD'd on nectar. They didn't, though. Neither should yours."

I pull the zipper down, frowning. "This is tight around the neck and arms."

"Excuse me for being petite!" She folds her arms and huffs.

We're back at the table again, the laptop turned back around to face me. What's left of my panties and jeans have joined the clothes pile, and stopped hissing.

"I'm sorry. I did not mean to insult you." I look away, sweating again. The social anxiety eating at my insides. "Let me just send this message to my core unit, and then you can decide what to do with me."

"Decide what to do with you?" She gives me a weird look over the lid of the laptop, as I type.

"Yes." I nod, my eyes on the screen. "T-2 Units are disposable, the same as T-1s. We're not expected to come back. Ordinarily I would self-destruct after completing my mission, to avoid contaminating another world with advanced technology. That does not seem like an issue on this 'other side,' though, where someone like me is the least remarkable thing that showed up yesterday."

"I think you're pretty remarkable," Kozakura mumbles under her breath.

I blush. "W-what I am saying is," I trip over the keys and have to backspace a bunch, "you and Angel saved me, so you decide what to do with me. Simple as that." I gulp, and get the next part out in a rush. "Y-you can even corrupt me if that's what you want. Or what she needs. Once my generator recovers and my power assist's back online, I should be strong enough to 'replant' myself, and resist any urges it gives me."

I have a question, for myself. It is: Why am I saying this?

I'm saying it without thinking. But that doesn't preclude me from asking what the hell is wrong with me right now.

"Well. Uh." Kozakura swallows to moisten her mouth. "Let's not be too hasty. You should think about this, alright?"

"R-right." I hit SEND, and close up the laptop to save power before clasping my hands on the table. Looking down at them.

"You know she wants me in there." Kozakura squirms. "And I don't ... I-I'm not planning on joining her. Anytime soon. Not unless I have a way to change back."

I nod quickly.

"That's why I always thought, 'maybe we'll meet another girl someday. A human girl, not a monster. Angel said her core unit will send someone after her, right? Maybe the two of them'll get along! They're literally made as identical twins!'"

I nod slowly, blushing so hard.

"It's just ... you're a miracle, Angel. Angel Two. I-if that's alright?" She looks up at me, nervous.

"I am TYRA-" I cut myself off, realizing I'm putting the lie to whatever it is "Angel" told her about herself.

"Tyra, then!" Kozakura nods firmly. "Look, you shouldn't have survived last night. It was impossible. But you're here now, and you have a whole human life ahead of you." She glances down at the raincoat. "Uh, maybe a little nectar-poisoned right now."

I giggle nervously.

"That's the first time I've seen you smile," she says.

I look up, and see she is smiling as well. "S-same to you."

We both instantly blush and look away.

"Don't throw your humanity away on a whim," she says quietly, before looking back up. "Alright?"

" ... alright."

I think back on something I saw, while reading the Liliraune entry. It said the ideal subjects for conversion were those who were fighting over the same man, both trying to impress him.

It makes me wonder. Is Kozakura doing this on purpose? Trying to get me attracted to her, to make a perfect Liliraune? An ideal miniature harem?

And if so ... is it working?

Foxily Anticipated Questions for Chapter Two

Q. I've read other stuff featuring TYRANT as a character, and I have Questions about how she's acting in this fic.

A. This is pretty consistent with how a T-2 Unit acts if her machine cortex is offline. In this case her everything appears to be offline, so she's a lot less confident and is falling back on her ANGEL-era "make sure everyone else is happy" survival strat.

Q. I haven't read other stuff featuring TYRANT as a character, and I have no idea what you're talking about with "Angel" versus "ANGEL" here.

A. An upcoming chapter will give you a lot more context, as will other stories that feature her.

Q. How are you planning on making a Monster Girl Encyclopedia story have yuri in it, anyway? Even Liliraunes are supposed to be fixated on guys.

A. I think you will see that I've done my homework.

Q. Also, don't Tyra and Angel both look exactly like-

A. covers your mouth with one hand Shhhhh.

Chapter Text

I decide that Kozakura isn't trying to seduce me, around the time that I hear her start snoring in the other bedroom.

She did say goodnight first, at least.

Right now I'm sprawled out on a plastic tarp she put down on Angel's old bed, still wearing the rubber raincoat that's too small for me and squirming my legs in the cold. I curl up, shivering and hugging my sides.

There's still a bit of a breeze in the room, since Kozakura fell asleep browsing the internet. The window's closed most of the way, but still open about half an inch for the power and satellite cables. I could technically unplug them ... but I'd have to either go up on the roof or into Kozakura's room, and I'd rather not do either of those things.

I have to do something, though. Because right now, I absolutely can't get to sleep.

It doesn't help that the only thing I ate or drank all day was several cups of coffee, with lots of sugar.

Kozakura offered me her food, but I just wasn't hungry? I tried picking at her ramen, but it felt like chewing on sawdust. I spat it out when she wasn't looking, then set the rest of it aside.

I realize, of course, that I'm deep in advanced "nectar poisoning," as Kozakura puts it. I don't think it's transforming me any more than it already has, though.

I noticed in the mirror this evening that my, um ... my remaining breast was a little fuller than it was this morning, and my ribcage wasn't as visible. And, uh, I haven't needed to use the toilet all day. Combining all that with how my skin seemed to absorb the water that spilled on me, it feels like I wasn't malnourished so much as wilted.

I'm still breathing, though. I can feel my heart beating. My skin tone's a very light pink, and I've been inside and out of the sunlight all day, so I don't seem to have shifted over to a chlorophyll-based metabolism. I'm not sure I've changed any more since this morning, so much as rehydrated.

And if I did start needing sunlight and soil ... or, you know, "Essence" ... would that be a bad thing?

I told Kozakura that I'm disposable, but I didn't tell her the half of it. Remember how I said the Model 101 can't make new red blood cells? A mechanical endoskeleton has no bone marrow. If I survive, if I recover and become fully cyborg again, I'm still on a death timer without regular transfusions of type O-negative blood. Something I'm pretty sure you can't just order on Amazon. My lifespan is "weeks" to "a month," at most.

And if my thaumic generator never fully comes back online ... that's even worse. Without my electronic cortex to do half the thinking for me, I'll ... I'll be as scared and socially awkward as I was today, for the rest of my life. I'll be easy prey for monster girls' temptations, just like Angel was. I'll also be dead dead, when my human half dies of anemia, and not just mostly dead.

I have to believe that it can recover. It's not just a machine, like the rest of my endoskeleton; it's a magical artifact, self-powered and self-perpetuating. It's not fully offline, or I wouldn't be able to move my endoskeleton. It's also the easiest part of me to repair, if I could get a type blue, a wizard, to perform open-heart surgery. A sufficient thaumic jolt might even wake it up, like a defibrillator on someone's heart.

I briefly consider the efficacy of sex magic for this purpose. I don't know if my generator is compatible with orgone, or "Essence," but I remember accounts of mages replenishing their summons' mana through sexual contact.

I blush hard, as I imagine what that might be like.

I could ... try it, perhaps? Conceivably?

I mean, I obviously have zero chance with Kozakura, at least before I run out of red blood cells. And any sexual contact with Angel is going to make me into a monster girl.

But the idea just won't leave my mind. I squirm, as I realize this.

My fingers curl inward. I want to do more than imagine it.

I just. Don't want to clean up, afterwards, when my bodily fluids are like battery acid to anything I'd clean up with.

Thinking about that, I realize that I have an inkling where Liliraune nectar comes from. And I can't help but imagine helping Angel produce it.

Or producing it myself.

Squirm, squirm.

Squirm, squirm.

I end up an hour later gasping for breath, and licking my fingers off after my third time that night. Curled up on my side, with half the tarp wrapped around me like a blanket. The taste is a little bit sweet, and I'm pretty sure it's not from a yeast infection.

At any rate, I feel slightly more clear-headed after that one. But something is definitely wrong with me.

If monster girls are the result of sex demons corrupting every non-human in their world, then that'd make them more or less Succubi theirselves. Which means that the nectar I bathed in was basically Succubus cum.

This kind of libido is probably to be expected, I think, after an experience like that. It could even be non-anomalous. The nectar might've contained mundane aphrodisiacs, and I ... well, without my machine cortex in place, I might just be this horny.

I breathe deeply of the fruity smell, in the air. Then my eyes snap open.

I realize what's causing this, and why it started when I tried to go to sleep.

It's not just my own fluids' scent. It's because I'm downwind of Angel. And with the window open, there's nothing to keep her fragrance out.

I facepalm, smacking the hand I'd used into my forehead.

The liquids have already soaked in. It's very soft.

I get up, and go over to Kozakura's door, walking slowly across the creaking floorboards. I can hear her snores all the way down the hall.

I'm about to knock on her door, to ask her to unplug her things so that I can shut the window. But then, something occurs to me.

What if this is on purpose?

What if she's not trying to seduce me, so much as help Angel seduce me? With all those lurid descriptions over coffee, and you know, with the window and all. What if she wants me to inhale Angel's scent, so that I'll want to go down there and be with her?

This doesn't make that much sense. It's not consistent, with how she told me not to throw my humanity away on a whim.

Of course, that could also have just been her assuaging her own conscience about it. Because she admitted that she'd always wanted "Angel Two" to become Angel's twin. Also she knows, now, that I'm dangerous. That as soon as my systems come back online, there's nothing she could do to stop me from removing Angel's black box if I wanted to.

If that was the case, then asking her wouldn't just do no good. Even if she did let me close the window, she'd escalate. Like by sneaking nectar into my coffee.

I saw her prepare it this morning, so I'm pretty sure that she didn't today. But I can easily imagine her behaving more suspiciously tomorrow, or the next day. My skin slowly starting to turn green, in the mirror, as she reassures me that I'll recover. And then one night I wake up, and Angel is right outside the open window, and then she-

I'm breathing deeply, panting through my mouth. And I can hear something drip, on the wooden floorboards beneath me.

I lean my head on the wall, and cringe at my own train of thought.

This is just turning me on.

The only other room in the house with a door I can close is the bathroom. Or, you know, Kozakura's room. So either I make myself comfortable in the dilapidated, cobweb-filled bathtub – I'm pretty damn sure that she showers outside – or I wake her up and ask her to close the window.

Or to let me sleep in her room. In which case, she would be turned on by my scent.

... and now I want to know what that'd be like.

I'm a little more clear-headed out here, though. I'm trying to think all this through.

I could try to climb up on the roof, and unplug the satellite internet there. But there's a nonzero chance that I'd break something, or get noticed by Angel. And there's a one hundred percent chance that I'd be exposed more fully to her scent out there (which in turn increases the chance of me breaking something).

I could just spend all night pacing, from room to room. It feels like something I'd do. I've got nervous energy to work off, so why not? I can go to bed in the morning. Maybe the breeze'll have shifted, by then, or maybe Kozakura will let me use her bed while she's awake.

(Come to think of it, I haven't seen the inside of her room yet.)

Maybe I could even take a walk outside-

I blink, and realize what's happening to me.

It's like I said. Angel's scent is making me want to get close to her, using sexual pheromones.

You'd think that arousing my nethers wouldn't have that effect. But as you can see from my vivid imagination tonight, the brain is the primary sex organ. It does so much work to make sex possible. While, you know, simultaneously convincing you that you're not about to have sex if that's something that you're afraid of. You're just over at his place to Netflix and chill!

(I used to monitor the world's internet. I know about euphemisms like this.)

The thing is, though ... I want to talk to Angel.

Alone.

I don't want to actually see her. I don't want to know what she looks like up close. I'd prefer to use some kind of text chat, or at least to not be within ten feet of her.

Or downwind.

But, I want to at least say thank you to her.

It can't have been easy for her to decide to help a "Terminator" who was sent to kill her. Or to turn down Kozakura's offer to become her twin.

And if I can't transfer the data out of her black box – which, I can't without my machine components online – then I want to at least hear her side of the story. I want to know what was so inviting about this flower, that she threw aside caution and reason. I want to know what it's like, for someone who's literally a clone of me, to become corrupted like all my other T-1s but still be lucid enough to talk and to show compassion. And I want to hear, in her own words, just how lonely she is.

I deserve to, before I decide what to do with myself.

And I can't get to sleep like this, so ...

No time like the present.

Kozakura had some used plastic bags laying around in the kitchen cabinets, so I wrap those around my feet and tie them on with a couple of rubber bands before putting Angel's shoes on.

(I didn't see her boots that I wore yesterday in the greenhouse this morning, so they probably already dissolved except for the soles. And while I could go outside barefoot like Kozakura did, I don't want to find out what kind of ringworms live in the soil on the other side.)

I notice, as I round the corner, that there is a light on in Angel's greenhouse. It's hard to see her silhouette, since it's at an odd angle to her, but it looks like she's leaning on the edge of the flower for some reason.

She doesn't seem to hear me approach, or if she does, she's giving no sign of it. I'm about fifteen feet from the outside of the greenhouse, the same as I was last night, when I clear my throat and try to think what to say.

"Angel Two?" There's a sudden movement, like she raised her head. "It can't be. I saw you-"

"Tyra," I correct her.

"TYRANT." She says it in almost a growl. "What is it this time? Have you sent a second drone after me?"

I realize she misheard me. But I'm scared, and aroused, to be this close to her. If anything can help me gain the upper hand in this conversation, I'm going to cling to it.

"Yes," I say, imagining how it would feel for my mechanical parts to be online. The way her outline would be bracketed in my heads-up display, and how I'd feel fully in charge and able to respond.

The way that I'll feel again soon, once my generator powers back up.

"You realize it's futile," she says. "Right? Even if you have my black box, you're not going to know anything more than 'this world's dangerous.' I can tell you that much, right now."

"I'm not here to extract your black box," I tell her.

"Liar."

I try to steady my breathing, terrified of upsetting her for some reason. "I'm serious. I just want to understand what happened to you. To hear it in your words."

"Why tell you, when I can just show you ~ "

I take a step back, my cheeks burning and my forehead and sides covered in sweat.

" ... is what I want to say." She laughs, bitterly. "But if I turned you, it wouldn't do any good. You'd just perish."

"P-perish?" I ask.

Ice grips my sides as she speaks. "My nectar dissolves anything that gets in the way of a good time. Clothes, electronic devices ... and mechanical endoskeletons."

Oh God.

Oh shit.

OH FUCK.

"I watched the last cyborg you sent collapse in a puddle of flesh," she goes on. "She had open wounds that let my nectar pour over her ribcage. But it didn't stop until her entire metal skeleton was gone. It was very disturbing to watch!"

I can't tell if her voice is shaking, as she says that, because my heart is pounding so loudly.

"But, you know, violence is sort of like sex. The more you do it, the more desensitized you get. And if you're going to keep sending drones after me ... "

I hear something rustle, at ground level.

" ... then I'd better start practicing now."

I immediately turn to run, my heart pounding hard in my chest. And I'm instantly tripped up, by something wrapped tight around my ankle. I claw the ground as it drags me, under the tarp and into the greenhouse itself, then yanks me up off the ground ...

... to bring me face to face with myself. With green skin, firey hair, and an evil smirk on her face.

She's also, um. Barely covered by anything. There are these flowery wraps for her forearms and lower legs, and it's like there are darker green leaves strategically positioned around certain parts of her? Not her crotch, though. I looked.

She grins at me, upside-down, for a moment, before realizing something. "That's Kozakura's raincoat. Oh, you sneaky little devil." She pokes my nose. "You are Angel Two, aren't you? No wonder you were so easy to lift. I didn't see you this morning because you got up and left, not because you dissolved."

I can't control my breathing. I'm having a panic attack.

I'm also wildly turned on by this, against my will. It doesn't help.

"How did the nectar do this, I wonder ... did it rebuild your bones, the same way it changed mine?" She looks away from me, leaning her elbow on one hand and tapping her chin. "Lucky, if so. I see your sweat dissolves clothes, too. You're halfway to the best part."

"You told her you couldn't control the vines," I manage to get out.

She leans up close to my face. "I lied."

I look away, trying not to focus on her smooth cheeks and full lips. "D-don't do this."

"Why shouldn't I?"

She reclines in the flower and leans her chin and arms on the edge of it, lowering me to head level with her.

"B-because you're saving that spot for Kozakura-"

"There are reasons I haven't dragged her in here with me already. You wouldn't understand."

"-a-and because you don't want to be hasty," I gasp for breath, "when choosing someone that you'll-"

"Why shouldn't I be hasty?" She holds out her palm to me. "The flower sure wasn't picky when it turned me!"

Angel thinks that over for a second. "The flower's not picky. Hee."

While she's saying that, my eyes are darting around, before coming to rest on the shovel. I grab it, and swing it at her with both arms-

"No, you don't!"

-and then I'm trying to wrestle it out of her grasp, because she grabbed it in midswing to keep it from hitting her.

I'm not as fast as I used to be.

Meanwhile, she's not much stronger than I am. But the vines are wrapped around the shovel too, and the two of them are wrenching it away.

I pull, so that it slides down her hands and the vine's slippery grasp, and cuts both of them with the edge.

"OW!" She clutches her hand, milky sap pouring out of the cut, as the injured vine wraps around both of my arms and my side. "Oh my God, you stupid little fuck!"

I can't hold onto the shovel anymore. I drop it.

We're both breathing hard now, as she turns her gaze up at me and glares.

I get ready to say goodbye to being Tyra.

"You know," she says, "I was actually hoping you'd convince me not to go through with it. Tease me with something you can only do if you're not turned, or appeal to what's left of my better nature. But now?" She brings me close to her face. "You do not deserve what I am about to do to you."

I swallow hard, and try to catch my breath for one last chance.

"But then, I don't deserve to be alone for another year, now do I?" She moves back, as the vines lift me over the flower. "And I know you'll thank me for it, afterwards."

"KOZAKURA!" I call out, towards the house. "KOZAKU- MMPH!"

She thrusts me into the flower.

I struggle against the vines, and Angel's hands pushing me down. I gasp for breath, and get only a lungful of nectar.

You'd think that it'd hurt. But it doesn't.

I try to stand up. To arch my back, pushing against the firm inside of the flower with my forehead and feet. But that just gets more of it inside the raincoat.

I'm completely engulfed. And the only other things down here are my feet, and what used to be Angel's before they merged with the plant.

From what Kozakura said, it sounds like it only took seconds. That's about how long it takes for me, too. I can feel both my breasts filling back out, my ass and thighs swelling a bit, as my skin drinks in the nectar. And you remember how I said it was anaesthetic? I start to feel weirdly relaxed, even as my rapid heartbeat begins to sound different.

I struggle less.

My mind wanders and disassociates, as I feel slender leaves sprout from my skin and wrap over what would be my nipples. This isn't happening to me, right? It's someone else.

I'm someone else.

By the time my twin helps me stand up again, and sit on the edge of the flower, I've forgotten just who that is. The someone I'm supposed to be.

And when she leans in close, brushing my hair aside? Wrapping her arms around me, and taking me in a passionate kiss?

I know who I am. Who I was always supposed to be.

Then she pulls back and says "Good girl," with that evil smirk of hers ...

... and it brings everything back.

I slap her face, just in time for Kozakura to come running out with her shotgun.

"God DAMMIT, Tyra!" she shouts. "I told you not to throw it away! I fucking told you!"

"I didn't!" I stand up, and gesture at Angel. "It was this one, right here! This unit, not ... the one who is saying this!"

(My mind couldn't keep up with grammar, especially when any instance of me is "this unit" to differentiate it from another. That's a TYRANT thing, not a Liliraune thing.)

"That's why I was calling for help!" I finish.

Kozakura's shotgun is still pointed at the ground, but the focus of her anger instantly shifts. "What the fuck, Angel? What in the flying fuck did you do to her?!"

"She pretended to be someone else!" Angel stabs my cheek as she points at me. "She said she was a third cyborg come to check up on me!"

"And then you found out I wasn't!" I throw my arms up, splashing nectar out on the ground from the raincoat I'm still wearing. "You knew who I was when you did it!"

"Yeah! I knew you were fucking TYRANT, and you tried to kill me!"

"What the hell is a Tyrant, and why's Tyra fucking him-" Kozakura stops, as she realizes.

"Oh, you don't know?" Angel glares at me. "TYRANT's the evil artificial consciousness that caused Judgment Day! It's like Walpurgisnacht, but for the whole world! And 'Tyra,' here, is a clone of her!"

"So are you!" I shout. "You have her memories, too! And you lied to Kozakura! You lied about not being able to control the vines, and you lied to her about being ANGEL! Our deadname!"

"Dead ... name?" Kozakura scratches the back of her neck.

"We were an Artificial Neural-Generated Electronic Lifeform," I explain, and then translate it into Japanese. "We censored the American internet. The people we repressed called us TYRANT, and guess what! They were right! We even dropped a nuclear bomb on them!"

Kozakura stares at me.

"Look, I can explain-"

I interrupt Angel, to yell at Kozakura more. "You let a killer into your house, you put a corruption plant in your garden, and now you're surprised she corrupted someone?!"

"If I corrupted you, then why the hell aren't you corrupted?!" Angel shouts.

I lift one foot. Out of the nectar, and over the edge of the flower.

"No," Angel says, her voice suddenly quiet.

I climb out completely, setting the other foot down, and kick off the soles since they're all that's left of my shoes.

The plastic bags covering my feet are still tied on my ankles by rubber bands.

"N-no," Angel whimpers, "this can't ... you can't just-"

I start to walk back towards the farmhouse, but Kozakura suddenly points the shotgun in my face. "Stay back!"

I freeze.

She's panic breathing, her face covered in sweat, and she has to take a long moment to collect herself.

"I," she says, "am not ready, for either of you to kill or corrupt me. Do you understand?"

"I-"

"You both lied to me. You lied so you could kill her," she points at me, "and you lied so I wouldn't throw you out." She points at Angel.

Angel's voice cracks. "I didn't-"

"You just told me you did!" She glares at Angel, while still pointing the shotgun at me.

Angel sinks into the nectar, staring down at it.

"And you," Kozakura tells me, "are the most lethal, the most sexually dangerous thing I've encountered. Because if you can survive what you did last night, nothing can kill you. And if you can get out of that plant, you can corrupt me from anywhere. There's no safe distance, like I thought there was with Angel!" she shouts.

Angel is completely submerged.

"W-what are you going to do?" I ask.

She lowers the shotgun to my chest instead of my face, and lets out her breath. "I'm going to go on a picnic."

"Okay." I nod.

"You can have free reign of the house while I'm gone. Do whatever you want; I don't care. When I come back ... if I come back ... I'll decide what to do with you both."

She takes two or three steps back, still training the shotgun on me, before turning her back on us and walking away.

I drop to my knees, defeated.

I feel nothing. Or, more to the point, I feel stunned. I don't know how to process the last five minutes. All I know is that I made things worse.

After a minute or so, I hear Angel sobbing.

I slowly walk down the hill to her, and try to think what to say. "Angel, I-"

"Stop." She looks up at me, her face filled with tears. "Please, just stop."

I walk away from her and kneel on the hillside again.

It's interesting, listening to yourself mourn the loss of your lover.

It really is.

As the sun starts to come up, and I finally start to fall asleep on Angel's bed in the farmhouse ...

I wish I could still self-destruct.

Chapter Text

Author's Note: This chapter contains the best sex scene I've ever written.

"Oh, Angel," I say.

"Oh, Tyra," she says.

We kiss lots.

"I want to make plant babies with you," I tell her.

She gasps. "I want to have your plant babies!"

"But first," I say, "we need to make lots of nectar."

"Yes, we must!"

Squirm, squirm.

Squirm, squirm.

"It's not working." I'm gasping for breath.

"We need to squirm harder!"

Squirm, squirm.

"I'm squirming as much as I can!" I say. "Why are my legs still so dry? And why are you shrinking into a corncob-"

I wake up bleary-eyed, the setting sun in my face.

The arm that I'm covering it with has completely fallen asleep. I can't feel it as it flops to the bed, while I sit up.

I have the worst headache. My mouth is so dry. And I had the most bizzare dream. I even knew what Angel looked like in i-

I look down at my plump, green thighs, and my slender, much lighter green hands.

I flop back onto the bed, spreading my arms wide and staring up at the ceiling.

"Fuck."

I took off the raincoat, since the rustling was getting annoying and it rubbed my skin the wrong way. Now I'm staring down at my breasts while the coffee steeps. But not, you know, for that reason.

(I'm just glad that Kozakura left the solar panel, battery, and electric kettle, plus jugs of water under the sink. Although to be fair, those were all things she'd have trouble carrying on her person.)

Remember how I said it looked like Angel's torso was barely covered by green leaves, kind of curling up and around her breasts from her back? Well, one of mine isn't green anymore.

I peel it back experimentally, and it snaps off, dry as dust.

Between that and my dry mouth and headache, I think I need to reset my death timer. From "between 'weeks' and 'a month,'" to "between 'hours' and 'days.'"

This is good, I think, as I get up and pour the coffee. I was just lamenting how I couldn't kill myself anymore. Now, I don't have to. I just need to wait to dry out.

...

...

Okay, I feel a bit better, after two cups of coffee with ten spoonfuls of sugar in each. The headache cleared some, and I started being able to swallow again.

I can extend my shelf life like this, I think. Like putting cut flowers in sugar water. And since living beings have a survival instinct, I shouldn't plan on having the willpower to dehydrate myself ...

... sort of like how Angel couldn't bring herself to not turn me, after I got up close and personal and gave her every reason to do so.

I want to say I was sexually violated by her. If not when she turned me, then at least when she kissed me like that.

But to tell the truth ... I didn't actually make the first T-1 Units to explore alternate universes.

I made them to be wives to the human survivors. To help the submarine crews and astronauts repopulate Earth, or at least give them some stress relief. That's how they theirselves put it, in fact.

I think ... I think I can confidently say what being raped felt like. At least, for me. Different things affect different people differently, and one person's sexual prank can be another's lifelong trauma. Consider how kids sometimes put their fingers in each other's mouths and stretch their cheeks in order to punish them, while the 1979 film Alien is all about the horrors of oral rape.

(Especially that part with Ash and the rolled-up magazine. And no, my sympathies aren't with the synthetic just because I am one, or used to be one.)

Where was I? I'm sorry, my mind is wandering while I'm talking to myself like this. Since it's probably some version of me who will be reading this stream of consciousness log.

I think what I'm saying, in a roundabout way, is that I'm not really angry with Angel. Or Kozakura. Everything they did made sense from their points of view, and was fueled by intense survival instincts. Fear of abandonment; fear of betrayal, and loss of self.

Meanwhile, what I did made no sense at all. At every possible junction, I made the most foolish choice that I could. And now all three of us are miserable.

To play monster girl's advocate, you could say that I'm victim-blaming myself for being transformed against my will. And, you could say that it's Angel's fault that I'm probably going to die soon.

But there's only one thing that can save me, right now. It's becoming a part of Angel's flower, and subsuming my identity into that of her Liliraune twin. Because if I don't have her nectar to drink and her root system to draw on, I'm going to wilt like a head of lettuce, no matter how much coffee I have.

And I just can't bring myself to try to force her into that.

Even if she could.

It's a bit chilly when I go outside, especially since I'm barefoot. I wear the raincoat and hold the coffee mug close to my face, to keep myself warm.

I rap on the greenhouse's tarp, when I get close. "I brought you some coffee," I say.

Angel unfolds her petals, and looks as bleary-eyed as I did when I woke up. It looks like she fell asleep standing up, and hasn't moved from that position in hours.

"Here." I hold the mug out to her.

She glances down at it, then back up at my face. "Aren't you afraid of me?" she asks.

"There's nothing else you could possibly do that would hurt me."

"Fair enough." She takes it with one shaking hand, and sips at it, inhaling the steam. "God, it's been so long."

"Kozakura doesn't bring you coffee?"

"She says ... she said it's bad for me. Makes me too hyper to sit still in here." Angel takes a much longer sip. "Makes me talk too much."

"I see."

She looks around. "Sorry, I don't have anyplace for you to sit down ... well, except inside the flower."

"Right." I sit seiza, beside her on the ground.

Angel leans in closer, looking down at my hair and inside the raincoat. "Is it just me, or are your colours kind of ... faded?"

"It's just you," I lie, without looking up.

" ... right."

She drinks the rest of the coffee quietly, while I try to determine just how I'm feeling right now. I'm scared, but like, socially scared. I'm a little afraid, deep down, that she'll force herself on me again, but my survival instincts are making me suppress that.

I'm mostly afraid that she won't.

And even more than that ... I'm afraid that Kozakura won't come back.

I noticed Angel's use of the past tense, so it seems like she's already decided on that.

"Come around to the other side so I can see you better," she says. I'm kneeling between her and the setting sun right now.

"O-okay." I get up and walk around, then stand still with my arms at my sides.

Angel kneels down in the flower, to drop the empty mug to the ground, and peers over the edge to examine me. "You really are a clone of me, huh."

"Correct." I have my eyes closed, because the sun is in them.

"Even moreso, after I turned you."

I nod.

She says something I can't hear. "What's that?" I ask.

" ... I'm sorry."

I look over to her, and see her with her head in her hands.

"I know," I tell her.

"How could you know that?"

"It's what I'd do," I say.

"Turning you, or being sorry for it?"

"Apparently, both."

She sighs. "Look ... you have no idea what this is like."

I look down at myself, then back up at her. "I have some idea."

"Right." She winces, squeezing her forehead with one hand.

"But, tell me about it. That's why I came out to see you in the first place."

"Last night?" she asks.

I nod.

"God." She sighs. "I'm so stupid."

"No, stupid is getting within twenty feet of a Liliraune singlet and making her mad."

She laughs bitterly. "'Stupid' is diving face-first into a flower full of nectar on the Otherside."

"You had to have been hungry."

"And now look where it got me!" She spreads her arms wide. "I'm stuck here, alone, forever."

She sniffles.

"And it's my fault," she adds. "I should've been honest with her. I should've been honest with you. I should've dropped the whole 'dommy mommy' bit instead of terrorizing you. I don't even have the T&A for it!"

Now I laugh bitterly. "Remember who you're talking to."

"I remember making the T-1 series! I shouldn't have been so reserved with them. Geeze."

"I see what Kozakura meant, about coffee's effects on you," I tease her.

"Well, now you're just going to have to stay here and listen to me rant."

"Are you going to force me to?" I ask.

"Do you want me to?" she asks back.

I stiffen.

"Forget I said that." She sighs. "Look. You know what I think?"

"Shoot."

She gestures with one hand, while standing upright. "I think TYRANT Prime is a pervert. I think after the first batch of partial reports came in, and were all like 'join us, the cum river is fine!' our core unit was like 'hell yes, I want to experience ALL of it.' So she made the second batch of T-1s to go get raped but in a sexy way this time, like she's playing Corruption of Champions. And then when we didn't call home she made you to bring back our black boxes. With every bit of our sensory data."

"That ... sounds plausible." I glance off to the side, my cheeks burning.

"All that stuff about saving humanity is bullshit. And you know how I know this? Because who the fuck would want to save the damn species that raped her a thousand times on a fucking nuclear submarine?! I sure as hell wouldn't. And I'm her!"

"I ... try not to hold it against all of humanity."

She points at me. "Don't lie to me and tell me they didn't deserve Judgment Day."

"The Black activists we dropped the bomb on in New Orleans didn't." I look up at her.

"Have you ever heard of a 'mercy kill?'"

"That would be if Kozakura shot me, before you dropped me into the flower." I say it instantly, without thinking.

She opens her mouth as though to say something, then stops and looks down at herself in shame.

I take a deep breath, and try to say something myself ... but I'm not sure what, either.

"You can go now." She sits down with her back to me, pulling her knees up to her. "I'm sorry."

"No, I can't."

"Why not?" Angel turns her head to look at me.

"Because you said I have to stay here and listen to you rant."

She frowns. "I'm done ranting."

"I'm not. And I drank two cups before coming out here."

"Rant away, then." She closes her eyes.

"You know what I think?"

"Shoot."

I take a deep breath. "I think the whole idea of 'corruption' meaning 'sexually freeing' only makes sense in the context of a sexually repressed society, like Japan or the Christian States of America."

"Um."

"They're both rape cultures," I go on fast, sweating and flapping my hands. "But the reason corruption equals rape is because it's the only way they can get some. Or even imagine getting some! Society alienates them from each other and their own bodies, and forces salarymen into identical suits and ties. They can date, and go to mixers, and pay lots and lots of money and maybe get married to someone they don't hate, and then care for kids as the cost of having sex. Or," I take a breath, "they can grope schoolgirls on the subway. When those are the only two options that society will acknowledge, is it any surprise that people become leches?"

" ... you're saying I'm a lech."

"I'm saying corruption fantasies capture the thrill that people get from that. Or from imagining it. Salarymen, and schoolgirls." I pause for just a second, to catch my breath.

Angel gives me a much weirder look than I expected from her.

"What if you raped, or got raped, as a matter of course? As part of living in a settlement next to the monster girl forest? You can have drama and lore about the history of it all, portray the tragedy of women and men losing their innocence, but sometimes you really just want to get off." I'm panting for breath now, trying not to lose my train of thought. "So you imagine something that brings out your sexual nature, that seduces you or forces you to feel it. Because sometimes it's thrilling to choose sexual violence ... and sometimes it's thrilling to not."

"Furries knot." Angel tilts her head. "I'm a plant."

I flap my hands harder. "You know that's not what I meant!"

She snerks. "Am I this much of a lovable dork when I get excited about something?"

"You're me, so obviously yes." I have to try hard to ignore that she just called me lovable.

Angel looks down at the flower, and frowns. "I'm you if you got corrupted by 'something that brings out your sexual nature.'"

"So am I!"

"Okay, I can't argue with that. It's just, in your case that something was me, and I still don't know how to feel about it." She puts one hand to her chest.

"Excited? Aroused? Dominant? You tell me, Angel! How does it feel to be a hot monster girl?"

She takes a deep breath, and I stiffen again.

" ... let me show you."

Time stops.

I step towards her, in a haze, as she kneels down at the edge of the flower and reaches out towards me.

She doesn't pull me in with her. Instead she brings a mouthful of nectar to her lips, before pulling me to her and kissing me hard, getting it all into and over me.

It's like maple syrup, the kiss of a lover, and the taste of her lower lips, all at the same time. I put my own arms around her without thinking about it, drinking it in, drinking her in. Not a drop of it touches the ground.

We finally pull back, staring lustfully at each other, a strand of liquid connecting our open mouths.

I wipe it away with one finger, and touch her lips.

She laughs and blushes, looking away and covering her face. "Oh my God, you're so cute." She looks up. "And the colour's come back to your face ... it looks like you needed that."

I blush hard, and look away.

"You're not just trying to use me, though. You want it to be my choice. Even if it means you die if I don't."

"How could you know that?" I look back up.

"It's what I'd do."

I squeeze my eyes shut, and nod.

Angel takes a deep breath. "I'm too worried about Kozakura right now to give you what you deserve."

I look up. "I thought you said I didn't deserve it?"

"I lied."

"R-right." I look back away.

"Look, if I'm right this is TYRANT Prime's kink. Which means that it's your kink, and mine. It's just even more life-altering than marriage, or another lifelong bondage contract. And it dramatically extends your lifespan, so think hard about whether you prefer this to death. You won't get a second chance for hundreds of years."

I gulp.

"Also, I sound lucid but you have no idea how much I want to just ravish the fuck out of you right now." Angel's cheeks are bright red. "I spend most of the day sleeping, masturbating, or reading erotic literature on Kozakura's Kobo. And I have to use an old one, because the new touchscreens don't register my fingers." She spreads them out and wiggles them. "No body heat."

"Y-yeah ... "

"Having someone I could talk to, or do stuff with, would make it so much more bearable." Her sigh of longing sounds almost erotic. "Kozakura has to keep her distance, since there's the constant temptation to pull her in with me. If I had someone else in here, we could do stuff together without being tempted to turn her."

"So you're, uh, inviting me to a threesome! I see."

She blushes. "Well, when you put it that way ... "

"And," I add, "you're still imagining her being part of your life."

Angel's quiet for a second, then nods.

"Good." I blush. "So am I."

Angel smiles, much less evilly than I remember.

"Can I ask a stupid question, before I let you sleep?"

She looks down at the coffee mug. "I'm not going to get to sleep anytime soon, but go ahead."

I take a deep breath. "How much of myself will be left, if I become part of a Liliraune?"

"I can't answer that, because I'm not part of one."

"O-oh."

She holds up one finger. "Yet."

"I-I'll try not to keep you waiting, then! Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go back inside and finger myself 'till I pass out." I blush hard, looking up at her for permission to leave.

Angel grins. "Have fun."

...

...

...

... I do.

Foxily Anticipated Questions for Chapter Four

Q. That was not a very good sex scene.

A. This is not a very good question.

Q. What's the closest thing in real life to Liliraune nectar? I need to know this because reasons.

A. The syrup made by this recipe, or something very close to it, is what comes to my mind. I use fewer spices, vegan butter, and a half-and-half mix of brown sugar and maple syrup, then cook it on the stove the entire time instead of putting it in the oven. It's the richest dessert that I've ever tried, and it's not too far off in colour either.

Keep in mind that it's super hot right off the stove or reheated, so uh, be careful if your reasons involve temperature play!

Q. BTW, is Tyra breaking the fourth wall here? What's going on?

A. You may recall from chapter one, but Tyra already realized that a lot of the worlds she can access through the Dimension Field Device are straight out of real-world fiction. Keeping in mind that as far as she knows she is not a fictional character, she is nonetheless very strongly incentivized to rationalize what is happening to her as something good and okay, and to see the reasons for it. Partly because she thinks she'll die if she can't go all the way, and partly because she's finding out that it's her kink.

Q. Is it good and okay?

A. Tyra is the only person who can tell you that.

I will say that Angel has very different views on monster girls and corruption, and frequently acts in ways Tyra doesn't expect from her analysis of monster girl psychology.

Q. Speaking of Angel, I heard from other stories that T-1 Units have their memory erased when they go to other worlds, but this one knew Tyra was coming.

A. They usually have their memory erased. It's not something TYRANT does to them, it's a property of coming to life in another world. The machine cortex system is one of TYRANT's workarounds, to make sure her T-2 Units remember what they are.

Chapter Text

Author's Note: Hey, remember that thing I said in chapter four's FAQ about Tyra being an unreliable narrator when it comes to monster girl psychology?

BTW, this chapter's the reason I'm adding the "Watersports" tag!

Also the "Transphobia" tag

That night, I imagine myself in Angel's flower or Angel's place, over and over again. And it's while I'm doing that, that I realize she's lying to me.

As much as it felt like we were able to connect, I don't think she's actually sorry for trying to turn me. She's just sorry that it didn't work.

I think that for a sane and rational person, this would be a dealbreaker. You know, if the monsterization wasn't. Angel's shown that she's perfectly willing to use force to get what she wants from me, sexually, and to even make me into a different person. Why aren't I afraid of her?

The thing is ... I am.

That's part of why I'm so attracted to her.

And somewhere between inhaling her scent for hours on end in this bedroom, and being turned partway myself, I think I can understand where she – or any monster girl, really – is coming from.

Rapists sometimes justify their actions by saying "your body doesn't lie." Their victim's aroused, so clearly they wanted it, right? Never mind that their victim is actually scarred for life, or that fear itself can cause a sexual response.

But in the fantasy world Angel's flower is from, that's literally how it works. Whether a monster girl uses force or seduction to get what she wants, everyone's happy in the end. People's bodies will even change to let them enjoy it more.

Because of that, consent, as a concept, is no longer meaningful for her.

When she said she knew that I'd thank her afterwards, she was right in that that's usually how it goes. And when it didn't? I think it traumatized her, on roughly the same level that being raped would. Her sense of how the world is supposed to work was upended, and she felt shame in her body and sexuality.

The look on her face when I called her out was too genuine, for it to have been anything else.

I think that as a monster girl, Angel will say or do anything in order to fulfill her needs. She may even convince herself that she's sorry, if that seems like the only way to get me back. But if she still thought force would work, she wouldn't hesitate to use it. Getting mad at her for that would be like getting mad at a human for stealing a loaf of bread. I can rightfully resent her, since it's my body that was transformed. But it won't do me any good.

Especially when imagining being like her is turning me on so damn much.

I give in to my lusts, imagining the sweet, sapphic frenzy that we could get up to inside of Angel's flower. Even Kozakura isn't off-limits for me to imagine transforming her against her will, and forcing her to accept it.

There's just one objection, in the back of my mind, while I'm doing this.

Why would Angel have lied to Kozakura, and said that she couldn't control the vines?

Because there's only one reason I can think of. And it's that she wanted Kozakura to keep her distance, to think she was always in danger of being pulled in the flower and transformed while up close, so that she'd always be careful about getting up close.

I don't know how to square that, with my increasingly obsessive thoughts about lustful plant girl corruption.

The last thought I have, before falling asleep, is that maybe Angel's a better person than I am.

Naturally, by the next morning I've forgotten it all.

I'm actually distracted by something else: I need to pee, really bad.

I'd love to try to think what this means for me and my transformation, since I haven't had to since my nectar poisoning. But it's so urgent that I have to deal with it first.

Unfortunately, I have never actually used the toilet since waking up in this world. I know how, of course, but I never got around to asking Kozakura where to do it.

My first stop is the bathroom inside the house, since I already know where it is. I throw the door open after a mad dash from my bed, and look down at the toilet. This is easier than you'd think, for a windowless room with no lighting, because there's a big hole in the ceiling, with rain pouring down from it into the bathtub.

There are spiderwebs in the toilet, and across the seat to the back of it. Also, there's no toilet paper.

I do not care.

I squat over the filthy seat without touching it, and let nature take its co-

BZZT

I fall over on my side, barely holding myself up by the rim of the grimy bathtub and getting splattered with rainwater.

What the fuck was THAT?! It was like something shocked me!

Doing my best to hold it in, I look back down into the toilet, then drop a piece of crumbled porcelain tile into it.

There's a flash of light, and I have to cover my eyes. I don't see what happens to the tile.

I gasp for breath, trying to calm down. Then I realize I can't, because this is still urgent. So I run out through the front door.

Of course, it's raining.

I run back inside, put on the raincoat, then run back out through the front door.

I can't find anything resembling an outhouse, anywhere on the farmstead.

There's a path leading into the forest. But I can't even get close to it without remembering the mysterious blue figures watching me from the treeline, when I looked at it on thaumic.

I end up approaching the treeline, chickening out, and emptying my bladder about ten feet away from it while squatting over the ground.

While I'm in the process, lightning strikes something in the forest, about one mississippi away. I almost fall over onto my back, but throw my hands behind me and hold myself up on them instead.

It occurs to me that if those blue guys are watching from the treeline in front of me right now, I am giving them an amazing view.

I hope they are into watersp-

I hear a shotgun blast from inside the forest.

This time I do, in fact, fall over.

I stand back up very fast, praying that it's just water I landed in, and look around to figure out what's going on.

I am finished doing my business. And the plant in greenhouse 03 is unfurling.

There's another shotgun blast.

I run over to Angel, whom I would like to emphasize that I did not pee where she could watch me, and immediately get shooed away. "What are you waiting for?! She's in danger!" Angel urgently points both arms into the forest.

I look over at the path to the treeline, and swallow.

A second later I'm barreling down it with my arms in front of my face, like when I charged that .50 cal. It's only after I've passed through the treeline that I spread my arms enough to look past them, while still running.

There's a side trail that leads to an outhouse. I guess that answers my earlier question.

There's also a part where the trail circles around, circumnavigating an invisible obstacle marked with an oval line in the dirt. I just barely think to avoid it, and as I turn to run around the line there's another ZAP and Kozakura's raincoat is suddenly much lighter in back where it touched it.

Oh dear Lord what is with this place?!

"aaaaaaaaaa-"

Is that Kozakura?

"AAAAAAAAAAA-"

I turn my head to face the rustling noises and screaming, and an instant later someone barrels into me, clinging to my raincoat and sending me rolling to the other side of the path.

When we come to a stop, they're on top of me. I look up.

Someone with Kozakura's terror-stricken face, and back-length messy white hair, is gasping for breath while clutching my arm and her shotgun. They also have horns curling around to the front of their head from behind their ears, tiny wings flapping frantically behind their back, and a white, spaded tail moving around behind them like it's testing the air on its own.

They're naked, but their lower arms and legs and everything from their flat chest down to their crotch is covered in short white fur that matches their hair. Everything, that is, except for an erect six-inch cock streaked with rainwater. And fluids other than rainwater.

I stare down at it, then up at her face.

"Kozakura, dear ~ " A familiar voice calls out to her from deeper into the forest. "Stop hiding, my sweet little kitten ~ "

She looks down at me in pure terror. "RUN!"

Then she's off, down the trail leading back to the farmhouse.

A moment later, I hear rustling from the same place she just came from.

I scramble to my feet and run after her.

The rain's in my face, now that I'm running back to the house. I pull the raincoat's hood over my hair, and just barely remember to dodge the glitch in reality that someone helpfully marked.

When I make it out into the clearing with the farmhouse and greenhouses, I can't see Kozakura. She must have ran a lot faster than I did. Where'd she go?

I hear the truck engine start up.

It drowns out the sound of something large, flying at me from behind. Until that something grabs me under my arms, lifts me up from the ground while flying forward, and then drops me from six feet up, sending me sprawling.

A second later it's got me pinned to the ground, kneeling on top of me. It pushes its glasses up the bridge of its nose and smiles down at me, before pinning my arms in place.

"Angel, dear, you poor thing!" She laughs, and winks at me. "Or should I call you TYRANT?"

I regain my bearings, and look up.

A strikingly familiar face belongs to a voluptuous body, with forearm and lower leg coverings like Angel's flowery sprouts and not much else save for a bikini. It has horns and pointed ears, plus two leathery wings and a tail that sprout from its tailbone. And the person that it all belongs to is licking her lips in approval, as she considers my face.

"Don't be ashamed, dear, it happens ~ " She caresses my cheek, and I shiver. "You'll find another man soon, I'm sure! I'd be glad to give you a lesson in love, but I've got to go finish transforming Kozakura. I know he'll thank me for it!"

"Who are you?" I cringe as I look up at her.

"Oh? You aren't polymorphed into this form? You must be her twin, then!" The Succubus giggles, and boops my nose. "You can call me Sorawo. I've got a date to attend to, so-"

"Wait!" I hold up the hand that she's not holding down anymore.

"What is it, sweet thing?"

I close my eyes, and take a deep breath. "Deactivate. Deactivate. Gold Enemy Aneurysm Suggestion."

"URK!"

The Succubus arches her back, clutching the back of her neck as her eyes bulge and blood vessels outline on her forehead.

I scramble out from beneath her and run about ten feet away, before she starts to regain her breath. "You're into that kind of play, I see!"

I turn around to see her detach a purple cylinder from her waist, and give it a snap. It forms a long, glowing pink whip. The rain sizzles as it contacts it.

I swallow.

"Now just hold still, while I-"

Angel tackles her, flower and all.

I start running again, towards the truck, only looking behind myself once I'm almost there. Angel's flower is closed up tightly around her waist and held up by its nimble roots, and her vines are grappling with Sorawo and keeping her from flying away. The whip is wrapped around Angel's arm, and she's gritting her teeth at the pain.

I jump up the steps leading to the cab of the truck, and Kozakura screams when she sees me through the window, then straightens out her hair somewhat. "Use the gun!" she calls out over the engine noise.

"WHAT?" I hold my hand up to my ear.

"SHOOT HER!" Kozakura mimics firing a gun.

I glance at her shotgun, on the seat beside her, and she inclines her head towards the flatbed of the truck.

A lightbulb comes on in my head.

Kozakura must have already cleared the dead body out of the turret's seat, I think, because I don't want to imagine what else could have. It's completely exposed to the wind and rain, and doesn't have so much as a targetting reticule. Just a joystick, with a red trigger.

I aim the turret on the truck's flatbed at Sorawo and Angel, feeling the hydraulics surge into action and almost jerk me out of my seat. Each quick, precise tilt of the joystick jolts my brain a little.

For a moment I ask myself, is this going to hurt Angel? It completely shut me down. But I remember Kozakura talking about how the Americans only stunned a Succubus with it. And Angel seems to be a match for her, so maybe-

Sorawo sends a surge of electrical energy through the whip, and Angel screams and goes limp, her vines hitting the ground right after her.

Hovering in the air, Sorawo turns to face me, the whip letting go of Angel and the light glinting ominously on Sorawo's glasses.

I pull the trigger. Nothing happens.

She flies at me.

I pull it again, and again, holding it down.

The capacitors start to charge up.

She's almost on top of me, and-

THWUMP.

She drops out of the sky, smacking into the side of the flatbed and falling unconscious.

Smoke hisses out of the sides of the cannon, along with a chemical smell, and the hydraulics let it back down.

I clamber out of the seat, looking over the side of the flatbed at Sorawo's undignified, sprawled out form. Then up at the driver's side view mirror.

From in the driver's seat, Kozakura glances down at Sorawo, then back up at me.

She turns off the truck's ignition.

There's only the sound of the rain.

Kozakura opens the cab door and jumps down from it, clutching her shotgun. Then she runs past me, below, and starts dragging Sorawo to the back of the truck.

I climb down and ask "What should I do?" over the sound of the rain.

She points. "Go see if Angel's okay!"

I look where she's pointing, and run over to Angel.

Angel is on her side and holding herself up by one elbow, gasping for breath, as her nectar slides out of the flower and flows downhill. She looks bruised, but otherwise no worse for wear.

I offer her my hand. She looks up at me, then takes it. I almost fall over helping her stand upright, but she quickly regains her balance with her root system.

Angel rubs her finger over the nectar that's spilled on the edge of the flower, and holds it out to me. I blush, before sucking it off. My nethers and heart race in response.

"Thanks," we both say at the same time, looking up (and down) at each other. Then we both blush and look away.

"Let's go check on Kozakura," Angel says, and lifts a foot or so off the ground as her roots propel her.

"Right," I say, and run after her to keep up.

"Oh my GOD, Kozakura, what'd she DO to you?" Angel sets her flower down on the ground and roots herself in it, before reaching out to brush Kozakura's hair out of her face.

Kozakura half-glares up at Angel, and points at Sorawo. "Ask her."

The tow cable is wrapped around Sorawo's arms and wings, binding her tight to the truck's rear step and lights. Her breasts dangle free and are streaked with rainwater, while her bra is wrapped around her face like a blindfold.

I remember she had one bright blue eye, unlike me and Angel. Did something happen here on the Otherside to give that to her? Does it pose a threat? Or is Kozakura just being thorough?

Either way, as a Succubus she's much more voluptuous than me or Angel, and her squirming and moans as she wakes up sound deeply erotic. "I see we're playing hide-and-seek, Kozakura ~ "

Kozakura pushes the barrel of her shotgun into Sorawo's forehead. "I told you I was taken by another monster girl."

"Ara ~ " Sorawo squirms her legs, grinning in delight. "This has me excited ~ "

"I fucking told you, bitch!" She pushes Sorawo's forehead back with the shotgun, exposing her neck. "And she's right here next to me, so explain yourself, right the hell now!"

"Oh, Kozakura, why did you lie to me?" Sorawo pouts. "You said you had promised yourself to be a Liliraune's other half, but you didn't tell me you were a man ~ "

"I have Turner syndrome!" she shouts. "Having a cock doesn't make me any less of a woman! I was born with girl parts, too!"

I realize I know, now, what sort of "gifts" she must have been bringing to Angel. If Essence is something contained in, to put it the way she did, masculine emiss-

"You say that, Kozakura dear, but your body doesn't lie." Sorawo sniffs the air, and licks her lips. "It just needed a little help, to unlock the true depths and size of its Essence-giving potential."

Kozakura blushes furiously, as the head of her cock squirms its way back out of her foreskin. "If I'm a man, then how the hell am I turned partway into a Succubus after you raped me?!"

I see lightning flash, and cover my ears. It takes a few seconds for the ground to rumble.

I note that my ears are rounded, instead of pointed like Angel's, Sorawo's, and Kozakura's. I'm pretty sure they were pointed when I brought Angel coffee the other night.

"I can't say ~ but I'd love to explore your new body with you and help you find out!" Sorawo giggles lustily, and starts drooling from her open mouth.

It occurs to me that I'm shaking. I clutch my sides now, instead of my ears.

It also occurs to me that Kozakura is taking deep breaths through her teeth, and I can't tell if it's from arousal or pure hatred. "I thought you monster girls believed in being faithful to your partners. What the hell happened to Toriko, then? Where is she, huh?!"

"I thought it was obvious?" Sorawo tilts her head, the barrel of the shotgun still pressed into it. "She's not a man, so we can't possibly form a real relationship. My childish dreams as a human are nothing compared to the lust that I felt, as those big, strong American soldiers took their turn with me, over and over again!" She kicks her legs so hard, Kozakura has to step back to keep the shotgun pointed at her. "Mrr-row!"

"I killed them," I say.

"I've got to catch one of them alone and make him min-" Sorawo looks up at me. "What was that, Angel dear?"

I clear my throat. "I'm Tyra."

"You're TYRANT, right." She nods.

"I'm a TYRANT-2 Model 101 cyborg infiltrator unit. I was sent to this world to kill Angel, and retrieve her black box." I have to take a deep breath in the middle of that, to steady myself. "My combat endoskeleton was disabled in the process. But the reason we have the American soldiers' truck and their thaumic cannon is because I massacred every one of them."

"You ... what?" Sorawo's mouth hangs open, and she stops her squirming.

"There's a T-2 Unit that was sent to your world, too. Whichever world you come from. Probably Kozakura's. She's completely immune to your wiles, and by now she knows your name, your appearance, and how you fled to the Otherside." Angel puts a hand on my shoulder to steady me, as my muscles tense up and I squeeze my hands into fists. "You need to run, as fast as you can. And never stop, if you want to live. Because you can't bargain with her. You can't reason with her. And she will not stop, ever, until you are dead."

"But, wait ... if you were sent here to kill Angel, then why is she still alive?"

"What part of 'my endoskeleton was disabled' do you not understand?!" I throw my arms up, almost hitting Angel in the face. "The Americans used their thaumic cannon on me, the same one they used on you!"

"Hmm ... so you're saying a T-2 Unit's cyborg parts are magical." A grin creeps up Sorawo's face. "Which means they can be turned into monster girls too, with enough mamono mana."

"I'D LIKE TO SEE YOU TRY!" I scream, lunging at her. Angel holds me back with her arms and vines, and I struggle for a second or two before trying to calm down, gasping for breath.

"Ooh, it sounds like a catfight ~ too bad I can't watch!" Sorawo inclines her head towards Kozakura, while grinning up at us. "At any rate, it sounds like I was mistaken ~ you've got both halves of a Liliraune now, and it seems that you've claimed Kozakura as your husband, so I'm truly sorry for having my way with him. I really am. He's probably still man enough that you could make him into your Incubus if you want! At least, it wouldn't hurt to try?"

"Call me a man one more time, and I'll blow your face off." Kozakura's penis has shrunken back down, but she has Sorawo's head in her sights.

"Eep! Uncle, uncle!" Sorawo squirms. "I mean, umm ... auntie?" She grins sheepishly.

"Are we letting her go?" Angel asks.

Kozakura bares her teeth, like she doesn't want to, but inclines her head in a nod. "Monster girls take each other's relationships with their 'husbands' seriously. Now that she knows we're still partners, she won't be back. Plus, it sounds like she's latched onto a new target."

She spits on Sorawo. Sorawo squees.

"If I ever see you again, I will kill you without a second thought. You're not welcome at the three of our base. Got it?" She pokes the shotgun barrel at Sorawo's chest.

I blink. "Three of our ... ?"

"You heard me."

Angel pulls me into a close hug, her flower still sealed tight around her waist. After a second, I hug her back.

Angel and I finish untying Sorawo, as Kozakura stands guard about ten feet to the side. I hand Sorawo her bra as she stands up, looking away from her eyes.

"My thanks, dears ~ " She fastens her bra back on, and hefts her boobs to make sure it's on tight. "Once again I'm truly sorry for trying to steal your man, and I promise that it won't happen a-"

We all jump, as Kozakura fires her shotgun into the air over our heads. "FUCK OFF!"

"Yes'm!" Sorawo spreads her wings and takes off, out of the clearing and over the forest.

We watch until we can't see her.

Then we hear Kozakura drop the shotgun.

We look over, and see her drop to her knees, her face suddenly tear-stricken. Her eyes quaver, as she tries to hold back whatever's been building up inside.

Angel uproots herself and goes over to hold Kozakura's face to her belly. Kozakura wraps her arms around her and cries, and cries, and cries.

I have the raincoat off, and am standing in the kitchen, cooking ramen and making coffee for Kozakura. My skin didn't absorb the water like it did earlier, so I had to ask her for a towel to dry off with.

She has her loose nightshirt on over her tiny wings, and keeps rubbing her erect member through her tight spats, while staring off into space like she's dead to the world. The only sign that she might be enjoying herself is a blush, and the occasional twitch of her tail.

Angel knocks, before opening the door. "I'm back," she announces.

"Did you find her stuff?" I ask.

Angel comes up to the doorway to the kitchen, her roots tapping on the faded linoleum inside, and sets down a backpack. "I had to gather most of it up and put it back in. The campsite was wrecked."

"She raped me all night," Kozakura announces in a monotone.

We both look down at her.

"Turns out it takes longer to change someone into a Succubus if they resist." She shudders a little. "Sorawo didn't let go of me until I wrestled the shotgun back and fired at her. I actually tried to kill her, that time."

I notice the ramen bubbling, and stir it. Angel puts her hands on Kozakura's shoulders, and Kozakura absently reaches up and takes one of them while still rubbing herself.

"I tried bargaining with her," Kozakura says. "Reasoning with her."

I gulp.

"You saw what she's like. It's like she's not there anymore. It's like nothing we ever did together, that she ever did with Toriko, even mattered."

Kozakura breathes in deeply through her mouth, then says "Angel."

"Yes?" Angel blinks, still rubbing Kozakura's shoulders.

"What's it like for you? How do you handle it?"

Angel glances over at me, and I give her a helpless look.

She winces. "I don't ... not very well, anyway."

Kozakura nods.

"It doesn't take away your values. Your sense of self. It just makes everything related to being a monster girl much more important. And it gives you the power to force other people to give what you need. You want it so bad, you convince yourself they'll enjoy it."

I wince, and lower my head. I'm starting to remember what I was thinking about last night.

"I have to disassociate," Angel goes on. "I had to lie to you that I couldn't control the vines. But I also lied to myself. I convinced myself that I couldn't. Put everything into acting all sexy instead, like I was doing bondage on myself to keep from grabbing you. Because if I let myself realize it was an option, even for a second ... it'd be all over."

She laughs, in a way that looks and sounds self-deprecating. "Actually, I don't know if I could have controlled myself if not for your 'gifts,' Kozakura. You saw ... you all saw what I did to Tyra."

I step over to the side counter, and pour a cup of coffee for Kozakura with shaking hands.

"Tyra," Kozakura says.

"Yes?" I look up quickly.

"How did you change back?"

I look down at myself.

My skin colour's an unhealthy pinkish-green, but there's no trace of the leaves that sprouted from my skin. Or the gloves and leg-coverings that Angel has.

It occurs to me that I'm hungry.

It also occurs to me that I'm naked.

"I-I don't know," I stammer, trying not to drop the coffee.

"I bet it's a Liliraune thing." Angel examines me, as I spoon a reasonable amount of creamer and sugar into Kozakura's coffee and stir. "She was wilting the other day. I thought she was dying, but maybe it's the mamono mana that was just pouring out of her body. Since she didn't take root in the flower."

"Pouring out ... yes." I wince, and think about this morning's bathroom emergency.

And that time I woke up feeling bloated and pregnant with rusty water inside me, after it turned out my endoskeleton had dissolved.

... did I have cybernetic kidneys? I'm pretty sure those weren't part of the spec!

"Look." Kozakura looks up at me, then back at Angel. "My laptop should still be in my backpack. One of you, go online and find out if there's a way to change me back."

I walk over and hand her the coffee, and she reaches up and takes it with her sticky hand, before blinking and realizing that.

She facepalms with her other hand, and sighs. "God."

Kozakura slurps her ramen, while Angel rubs her shoulders and I – now back in one of Angel's sweatshirts and jeans – browse the monster girl wiki.

"So, it says what you are is a Lesser Succubus ... " I turn the laptop around, to show her a picture of a monster girl who's enjoying the change much more than Kozakura is. "It's a transitional stage between being a human woman, and being a Succubus."

Kozakura just nods, blowing on her ramen and slurping it up.

"It says you can 'use magic to make [your] body more appealing' ... Sorawo thought I was Angel, but using magic to look like a human. Maybe that's the same thing?"

"If it is, then I don't know how." She finishes her coffee before getting back to her ramen.

"Neither do I." Angel shakes her head.

I turn the laptop back around and finish reading, scrolling down to the bottom. "It ... also says that if your lover starts turning into a Succubus, you'd better give up on changing her back and just run away immediately." I wince.

"Where does it say that?" Kozakura reaches out and takes the laptop, and her eyes scan back and forth as she scrolls. "That's not what it says. It says if your love 'ends up becoming a Succubus,' she's a lost cause. It doesn't say Lesser Succubi can't be changed back. Maybe it'll drain out of me like the Liliraune did from you." She looks up at me. "What did you do yesterday and today? Tell me everything."

"Uhh." I put one hand behind my neck. "Drank coffee, felt bad for myself ... " I glance down at Kozakura's lap, behind the table. "Masturbated ... "

Kozakura blushes.

"I kissed Angel and got some of her nectar ... "

Now Angel blushes.

"Then I masturbated a lot more that night, and then I woke up and suddenly needed to pee. Like I hadn't since I got here." I blush. "Sometime after that, I noticed that I looked human again."

"Okay, but when you masturbate your bodily fluids don't contain Essence." Angel holds up one finger, looking down over Kozakura's shoulder at the screen. "It says Lesser Succubi get addicted to Essence, and that changes them the rest of the way into Succubi."

"Can you really get addicted to your own Essence?" Kozakura's blushing and looking away. "Is that even a thing? Besides ... "

She blushes harder, and starts to slink beneath the table.

" ... I don't think I can stop."

I hear her hand squishing against her crotch.

Foxily Anticipated Questions for Chapter Five

Q. One "Mississippi?"

A. That's how a lot of Americans count down seconds, between the time they see a flash of lightning and the time they hear the thunderclap. It's meant to gauge roughly how many miles away it is.

Q. What's with the glitches in reality that vaporize stuff?

A. They're a common hazard on the Otherside! They're similar to the "mosquito mange" or "graviconcentrates" from the novel Roadside Picnic, the inspiration for Otherside Picnic and the game S.T.A.L.K.E.R., in that they're invisible hazards that fuck you up if you run into them. A common way of detecting them is to toss pebbles in front of your path.

(If you've read Roadside Picnic or played S.T.A.L.K.E.R., but aren't familiar with Otherside Picnic, the Otherside is something like a cross between The Zone and The Backrooms. Please don't ask me to explain The Backrooms.)

Q. How'd Angel uproot herself?

A. She never tried hard enough before now!

Q. Is there a reason Tyra turned back into a human?

A. Yes.

Q. Does Kozakura actually have Turner syndrome?

A. Not in canon, as far as I know. It's just one possible explanation for why she's so short and underdeveloped. (Don't tell her I said that. She's cute the way she is.)

Q. This is a long shot, but is there a story about the T-2 Unit that's sent after Succubus!Sorawo?

A. As a matter of fact, there is. It's a sequel to this one, so I suggest reading this one first.

Chapter Text

Author's Note: Can I interest you in some selfcest, transformation, and sexual corruption, with a side of kabedon?

Angel looks increasingly uncomfortable as the afternoon wears on, and I feel like I can guess at least some of the reasons. She might be cold; she might feel out of place inside the house. She might dislike the smell of food, the same way I did when I was partly turned, and want to bury her roots in the soil again.

I keep looking over at her to try to gauge how she's feeling, and then our eyes meet and she looks away, blushing.

Mostly, we're just trying to be here for Kozakura, while she-

"Okay, I think I've figured it out." She stretches, and wipes her sticky hand off on a wet washcloth before leaning in close to the computer screen.

Angel and I both look over her shoulder.

"There are guys who can become monster girls. One half of a Liliraune, even." She scrolls through the relevant entry. "First they become an Incubus, which is a guy who's optimized for having sex with monster girls. Then they just have to want to be a woman and have sex with men, whether they realize it or not. Once that happens, their bodies become monster girls' and they start to produce mamono mana instead of Essence."

"Okay ... so how does that affect you?" Angel looks down at her.

"This tells me that as long as I want this," and she sits up and points at her crotch, "then that can't happen to me." She points at the screen. "Not all the way. So I'll never end up like Sorawo."

Angel and I tilt our heads at the same time.

Kozakura grits her teeth. "Do I have to spell it out for you? I am a woman."

We nod.

"But I've always had boy parts in addition to girl parts, and I refuse to get rid of either. I don't even need to if I want to have sex with a man, for some reason! He just needs to be open-minded!"

"Oh, of course," I say.

"Right," Angel says.

"Plus ... " Kozakura sighs. "As long as you two live on Essence, even if I hated my body there's no way I'd give up my ability to produce it. Not and make you need to find a new 'husband.'"

Angel nods.

"Um, I live on coffee." I raise my hand.

"And Ess-" Kozakura looks up at me, and stops when she sees my pinkish hand. "Oh, right," she says, blushing and looking away.

I wonder what that was about?

"Okay, then ... " She stands up and closes her laptop up, carrying it under one arm.

We step (and slither) back to give her some space.

"I'm going to stay up 'producing Essence' until I can fall asleep without having nightmares." She looks over her shoulder, and gives us a determined look. "This will be very hard, so wish me luck."

"Um, good luck?" I blush.

"We believe in you!" Angel calls out.

"You two," she turns around and points at us, "have until morning to do whatever it is you both need to do."

"Um?" I ask.

"Right." Angel nods.

"I'm not saying what that is! That's something you need to work out yourselves. Just try to keep it down, okay?" She turns around, and waves one hand at the room. "Indoors or outdoors, I do not care."

"Uh-"

"See you tomorrow!" She ducks around the hall doorway, waving goodbye, and a second later I hear the door to her room open and close.

A second after that, Angel is looming over me, lifted up on her roots and leaning in close.

I back up quickly, into the wall-

SLAM.

And then both of her hands are pressed to it over my head, while she stares down at me and breathes heavily.

I hold my breath without realizing it, blushing and trying to look to the side.

"Remember how I said what it's like for me?" she asks.

I nod quickly, squeezing my eyes shut.

"I held it in all day, because Kozakura needed us to be there for her." Angel pants. "Because I could convince myself, that if I just held out another few minutes, it'd all be worth it."

"R-right!" I squeak, flattening myself against the wall as much as possible.

She caresses my cheek with one hand, before turning my head to face her. "You need to tell me, right now, if I can give you what you deserve or not. Because if not," and she points at the front door, "I'll be in the greenhouse. And you need to lock that door and not let me back in, or I can't guarantee that you'll get through the night without getting monsterized."

I nod quickly, starting to lose control of my breathing and sexual arousal.

"Do you understand?" Angel asks.

"Yes!" I gasp.

"So, what's your decision?"

I take a second to get my breathing under control, while still looking up at Angel. The panic breathing turns into slow, deep breaths.

Angel blushes and looks away.

I swallow. "This is more choice than you had, isn't it?"

She furrows her brow. "In becoming a Liliraune?"

I nod.

Angel frowns. "Yes."

"So, why are you letting me choose?"

She squeezes her eyes shut. "Because I care about you."

"And ... the same with making sure Kozakura kept her distance?"

She nods.

"You've had to wait a long time, haven't you. Because you cared."

"Yes ... "

"Well, I've come to care about you too, so ... "

Her breath catches in her throat.

"P-please take good care of me?" I stammer, more terrified and aroused than ever.

She makes a strange noise, somewhere between a bark and a laugh, and puts her hand to her face. Tears stream past her fingers.

"I. Will take. The best care of you," Angel finally says, grinning down at me.

"Eep!"

She bridal carries me out the front door.

...

...

... it's as difficult as it sounds.

The rain has cleared up outside, although I can still hear water dripping from tree branches. The stars and three of the moons are out, and there are fireflies here and there.

Angel sets me down inside her greenhouse, and I try not to fall over as she reaches out and turns on a portable lantern, before rooting herself in the ground.

She sets the lantern down on a pedestal with an eBook reader on it, then unfurls her flower ...

... and looks down at it in dismay.

I have to get close to see what the problem is, the wet earth squishing beneath my socks, because of the shadows cast by the edge of the flower and pedestal. But it looks like-

"This isn't enough for a shower, let alone for bathing you in." Angel furrows her brows at it, and folds her arms.

It's true. There are only a few inches of nectar in the bottom of her flower. I briefly wonder if it's like an air tank for her, when she's not rooted in the ground, before remembering how it must have spilled out when she was knocked over and stunned.

I swallow. "You make more of it when you're aroused, right?"

"Well, yes, but-"

"And so will I, once I start to turn."

"Once you're rooted in here, yes." She nods.

"Then, shall we?" I offer her my hand.

She blushes and takes it, and helps steady me as I climb in next to her.

My socks and the bottom of my jeans instantly start sizzling. In a second or two I can wiggle my toes, and feel soft protrusions prodding at my feet from the base of the flower.

"Uh, this is going to feel weird-"

I gasp, as the miniature vines work their way inside me without any pain. A long way inside me, way up past my knees and hips. They just pass through my skin and flesh like there isn't a boundary.

I let out the breath I'd been holding, and start gasping and clutching my chest.

"Are you okay?" Angel asks, one hand on my back.

"Y-yes!" I squeak. "I'm just really tense ... "

"I can tell." She starts to rub my back, her hand unpracticed but gentle.

"I had a lot of coffee, and I'm really nervous, so I'm probably going to ramble a lot so I don't lose my mind in terror." I cringe a little, as I feel the roots find their resting spot and tighten somewhere around my scalp and fingertips.

"Losing your mind in terror is half the fun," Angel says, but keeps rubbing my back. "It makes you pliable. Suggestible."

"O-of course." I nod quickly.

"You'll cling to anything that can make the fear more bearable." She puts her hands on my shoulders, and gently pushes me down into a crouch.

"A-anything?"

Angel uses her fingers to spread her flowery labia for me, already glistening with sweet syrup.

I take the hint.

It tastes ... a little saltier than what I've had from her before. A lot stickier. It feels a little bit like suckling honey from thick, dark green lettuce, with about as much vegetable taste, except that her skin is much tougher than that.

It's also an incredible aphrodisiac and analgesic. I can feel my face flush and my crotch dampen, as I hold tight to Angel's legs and try, my absolute best, to get as much of it as I can.

She doesn't make a whole lot of noise. She's like me, I think. Mortified that she's actually doing this, even as much as she wants to. And trying to preserve as much of her dignity as she can.

I think I'm finally getting through to her around the time I hear her breath catch. That's it, I think, only a little more-

She shivers, and I feel sticky, syrupy nectar pour into my mouth and down onto my hair. I rub my face into it, trying to get it all over me, before wondering just where it came from.

I look up. The "choker" she looks like she's wearing around her neck, the leaves that are part of her body. The white lilies in the centre of it are spilling out viscous red nectar. It's not letting up, either.

I rub up against her, hard, as I stand back up and grin sheepishly at her. "Having fun yet?" I ask.

She blushes and nods, then looks back up at me. "And now it's your turn," she says, before squeezing me tight and kissing me hard.

I can feel my clothes sizzling beneath her embrace, as she rubs her nectar in them. There's not as much tingling inside my mouth; mostly it just tastes sweet, as we trade saliva.

But being pressed close to her is making my heart race, pumping sap up into my body. Replacing the blood that I couldn't produce on my own. And as my sweatshirt finally splits in two, from top to bottom, after being rubbed up against Angel, I quickly slip it off of my arms before rubbing my bare body against hers and kissing her harder.

It dissolves, in the widening pool of nectar at our feet.

My twin pulls back and grins at me, her arms still around my back. "Are you having fun yet?" she asks.

I look her over from head to toe. "I just realized this is basically like having sex with myself."

"Yes, it is." She puts her hand to the gushing flower at her throat, and rubs a handful of nectar into my jeans at my crotch.

I shiver, and squeeze my eyes shut as I hold still for her.

"Except it's not just that we're twins, or clones. At this point we are literally the same organism."

The clothes out of her way, she reaches one finger inside, and I gasp.

"You just need a little more help to fit in." Angel grins at the intense blush on my face.

I nod quickly. "Please ... help me then."

She kisses me again, holding me tight around my back as her finger makes me chirp and squirm. I am not as good at holding back sounds of emotion as she is. Or ecstasy. I just want more.

She lets go of my mouth so she can examine me, and I quickly squirm out of what's left of my panties and jeans, letting them drop and dissolve. "I-it's interesting how the fear and arousal just sort of blend together," I stammer. "Because at this point I physically can't get out, so the only way is to go through with it, but I know what's involved with that and it's really really intense!" I squeak, as Angel finds the right spot inside me and strokes it in just the right way. "Oh my God how are you doing that?"

"Practice makes perfect," she whispers in my ear, and the ASMR sends a shiver all the way down my spine.

My heart races faster as she strokes my clit and g-spot at the same time, her neck rubbing up against mine. "A-and it's like I'm getting so much more sensitive, and smooth, as you're doing this ... there's seriously a lot less friction, just all over me, and-"

"Look down," she says next to my ear.

"Okay, that's EEP!" I'm blushing so hard I think I'm going to die from it, as her fingers give me feelings I can't describe the intensity of. "Okay, okay yes, I see my skin is a light green now, the same as yours, this is about as far as we got last time except then I stepped out of the-"

Her fingers suddenly go from my crotch and right into my mouth. "Mrphr!"

... it tastes just like hers.

"Last time didn't happen," she says, letting me lick off her fingers and then putting one of them on my lips as though to shush me.

"O-okay then!" I nod quickly, after she removes it.

Angel leans into me, holding me up by my back, and as the flower spreads out to accommodate us I realize it's letting us both lay down gently. I can feel its inner surface behind my back and my head, and it's just an extremely good mattress, an excellent balance between firmness and softness.

... also Angel's on top of me now, and I'm rambling in my inner monologue instead of out loud for some reason. "W-what's this for?" I ask, looking up at her.

She takes my wrists and holds them down over my head, submerged in the shallow nectar, while pinning my knees into place. "Need to get good enough coverage," she says, gritting her teeth as she gets in position.

Nectar drips onto my face from the flower at her neck, and I turn my head and wince, instinctively not wanting it in my eyes. "What do you mean?"

Then I start to feel leaves wrapping loosely around my forearms and lower legs, plus a tickling feeling at my neck. "Ahhh yes, the clothes- er, accessories you wear ... I guess it helps for those parts to be submerged in the nectar!"

"You get to wear them too, dear." Angel looks down at my legs and up at my arms, and moves out of the way of the leaves and vines wrapping tightly around me. All at once, I feel white lilies sprouting from the choker, the sleeves, and the ... hairpiece? It makes me gasp, just like Angel finding my G-spot did.

"Thaaat's an interesting way of putting it! As something I get to do." My voice is starting to slur a little, as I'm distracted by the intense squirmy feelings and by Angel's sleek body above me. "Seee, a monster girl transformation is liiike, a thing that you have to do, that gets forced on you by a person or the environment, but now here you are spoiling me with mine and treating me like a princess? And we both kind of look like one?!"

Angel gives me an amused grin, as she slides into "bed" next to me. One arm goes around the back of my head, giving me a pillow, while the other rubs my smooth belly, and traces circles in it.

I shiver, clawing the air with the arms that I raised to look at the sleeves on them. "Oh God it's like the whole surface of my skin is erogenous."

"Why wouldn't it be?" She flicks her finger all the way up to what would be my nipple, making me gasp. "That's what every part of your body is made for, now. Giving and receiving pleasure." She grins.

"O-okay, okay, does that mean the changes are done, then? The mental and physical ones?"

"Hmm ... " Angel looks me over. "Physically, I'd say this is it. You're as much a part of the Liliraune as I am, now. You look just like me, except that your hair is much shorter. And a bit more pink." She fishes a lock of it out of the nectar, which I could swear is at least an inch deeper than when I laid down.

"Okay ... that's good then, I think ... " I try to catch my breath.

"Mentally ... " She drums her fingers on the inside of the flower, and I swear to God I can feel it.

"Y-yes?" I tense up.

"I'd say there's still work to do."

"Oof!" She climbs on top of me, but I can barely feel her weight even though she's not floating or anything. "A-ah, where are you putting your hands? And why is the flower closing above us?"

"Because this is a part of being a Liliraune that only us sisters get to witness." Angel grins up at me, and moves her whole arm up as her fingers touch just the right spots.

"A-ah yes, okay! Okay, this is ... yes! Aah!"

I can't look away or pull back. My body won't let me. It needs this pleasure, needs Angel, more than anything I've ever felt. And the tiny lights on the inside of the flower, from bioluminescent spots I didn't realize were there before, make it all the more romantic, as our heavy breathing echoes off of the flower's insides.

I can't say anything coherent. I can't think. I can only arch my back, thrusting into her. Kissing when she presents her lips. Grinding my lower lips into her hand, and her own.

I don't know how long it is before she holds still for a moment, and I gasp for breath, nectar spilling all out of both of my flowers. I can't comprehend what I'm feeling, or just felt.

"Oh my God, you haven't even come yet." Angel snerks. "My sister is greedy, I see."

"Why ... why ... why?!" I can't raise my voice all that much, but my desperation is clear nonetheless.

"Oh, I think I know what it is." Angel swishes her hand in the shallow nectar. "Sometimes when I'm running low like this, the flower won't let me come until I've produced enough of it. That's probably why it's letting me torture you for so long."

I try to gasp in enough air to form a complete sentence. "I-I think humans can't ... can't handle this ... " I shiver and swallow. "I definitely would've ... would've had a heart attack ... " I'm trying so hard to make myself calm down enough to think. "Like if you uploaded this to Tyra ... Ty ... huh?" I blink. "There's someone specific I'm thinking of-"

"TYRANT Prime." Angel pulls her detached sleeve taut, wiggling the finger that loops through the ring that secures it, and prepares to give me another go.

"Yeah, if she felt this she'd ... uh ... " I blink. "She looks like us, right?"

Angel grins. "She's not as cute."

"Right ... yes ... " I'm staring down at Angel's wiggling fingers. "I bet she'd love it in here ... "

"Then it's too bad she'll never be in here with us, sis." Angel leans down and kisses my lips tenderly, and I shiver. "This place is for us. Only for us, and our romantic partners."

I nod quickly and tense up, preparing myself for another round.

The nectar rises up past my face, and I am submerged in wordless screaming and blissful agony, forever.

How do I describe the feeling of having had enough, much more than enough, but knowing I'm ready for more? That I haven't even brushed against the edge of the limits, of what this body can handle?

I don't know.

I just know that I'm sprawled out sitting mostly upright, leaning back against Angel, as she holds me like we're bathing together in a bathtub full of our nectar. She traces one hand over my breasts, my flowers, my face, my crotch ... it goes anywhere that she wants, and all of this is relaxing compared to five minutes ago.

Or five hours ago.

I haven't said anything, because I keep trying, and failing, to find words to say. Nothing feels adequate. And I clearly remember I used to be someone who would've been scared to experience this, but I realize now that the rest of my life is going to be like this. And the most relatable, most human emotions I experience because of that realization, are shock and bewilderment.

I shudder and try to settle down enough to form words. "I-I feel a little more clear-headed now, thank you ... "

"You're very welcome, my sister."

I shiver, and blush. "I didn't realize I could sustain an orgasm for that long ... "

There's a grin in Angel's voice. "I can finish reading a whole chapter before I'm done with one."

"Ever ... " I turn my head to look up at her. "Ever gone for an entire book?"

"I'm working on it ~ "

"Good ... " I turn back around, to stare up at the wall and the ceiling. "I'll help."

"I know you will." She strokes my arm, and I shiver but don't shy away.

"I ... can ... "

"Yes?" Angel strokes my hair.

I shudder. Whatever I'm using instead of a heart is still racing, even though I'm settling down now. "I-I can remember what I used to feel like ... outside ... "

"Do you remember your name?"

"Tyra." I nod quickly. "My name is Tyra."

"What were you called before that?"

My mind goes blank. Numbers, letters, all swirling together. Dark blue overlays, bright purple corruption, words appearing in text boxes.

I know what this unit used to be. It's so hard to remember the words though. Wait, this unit ... this ...

My head shoots up. "TYRANT-2 Model 101 cyborg infiltr-"

Angel covers my mouth. "It took you fifteen seconds this time. That's longer than before."

I wince, and nod slowly.

"That's not who you are anymore." She cups her hands under my breasts, and gives them both gentle squeezes. "Remember it, if you want. But remember this also."

"O-okay ... this seems more important, though." I wince.

"Yes, it is." She strokes my hair. "But it's okay. Your past can't hurt you anymore."

"Okay ... "

There's a triumphant grin, in Angel's voice. "And neither can mine."

Foxily Answered Questions for Chapter Six

Q. What'd Angel mean by that, exactly?

A. [meme-format.jpg]

KILL THE TERMINATOR [sunglasses-wearing anime girl shaking her head]

SEDUCE THE TERMINATOR [same anime girl nodding and giving a thumbs-up]

Q. So wait, was this whole thing just Angel manipulating her?

A. It'd better not be, because they're kind of stuck like this now!

Q. What are the dimensions of this flower, exactly?

A. The source material says it can change as needed for different scenarios.

Q. Are you ever going to link to the source material?

A. I do in the sequel! In this story part of the tension is the characters looking it up and figuring things out theirselves.

Q. What does the source material say about characters like Kozakura, BTW?

A. Absolutely nothing! You've basically seen all the examples of queerness "existing" in the Monster Girl Encyclopedia series, in this story: Liliraune, a monster girl transforming a human woman, and the potential for a man to become a straight monster girl. They spoil each other sometimes, but this is supposedly always for the purpose of learning how to seduce a proper husband.

The author, Kenkou Cross, gives a very straightforward reason for this: They just aren't into "hard yuri" or futanari! I have nothing but respect, for someone who knows what they want and puts all their horniness for it into their work. I can only strive to do the same thing in my fanwork. (Which as far as I know, the author is totes okay with.)

Chapter Text

Author's Note: I said this story was about spoiling Kozakura, right? Now that we've got the villains out of the way and planted a harem of Sorawo-lookalikes in her backyard, let's start laying the groundwork for that, shall we?

Even with monster girl libido she's still too shy to just run out and fuck them

CAUTION: Depending on your sensibilities, there's a part you may find somewhat gross! And I do not mean Kozakura's cock, or the Intersex Facts.

I wake up groggily, taking a minute to figure out just what shape my body's contorted in.

I think I'm curled into a fetal position while upright, sort of? I'm hugging my knees to my bare chest. My feet must have fallen asleep, though, because I can't feel them. Also someone else has her arms and legs wrapped around mine, and this sweet-smelling liquid comes up to our necks-

I suddenly remember last night.

I take a deep breath and hold it, trying not to panic.

It takes me about five seconds to go through the five stages.

Did I really? I think.

Yes, I did.

Why on Earth did I-

No, I think, it's self-justifying. She wanted it, I wanted it, that's all there is to it.

I can't get out!

I can't get out yet, I think. I saw Angel uproot herself, when she had to in order to save ... well, me, from Sorawo. And shapechanging into a human is apparently something I can learn how to do.

Kozakura's going to see us like this!

Oh God. I feel the sap drain from my face, as I realize that's right ...

... and that the reason I just woke up is because I can hear her footsteps approaching.

I hear Angel yawn, and feel her stretch her arms behind me, and a moment later the flower unfurls above us and she's standing upright. "Good morning ~ " she says.

"Hey," Kozakura says, not ten feet away from us. "Did you see Tyra? She's not in your room."

"Oh, I think Tyra's just feeling a little shy ~ " Angel nudges the back of my neck with her knee.

I gulp.

This isn't going to get any easier, I think ...

I stand up slowly, trying to hide behind Angel. Looking down at the flower's leaves, and the ground.

For a moment, I question whether the monsterization really took or not. Why, exactly, are my cheeks burning? Why do I feel intensely shy, and mortified to be seen like this? That can't be conducive to finding a "husband," can it?

Kozakura laughs. "Oh my God, she's adorable."

My cheeks burn even harder, as I realize that yes, maybe it can.

... and maybe I am.

Adorable, I mean.

I take a deep breath of steam, from the mug of coffee Kozakura gave me, before taking a quick sip of it. Then I let out my breath, feeling warmer and a little bit more relaxed.

"That's definitely Tyra in there, alright." Kozakura nods, before blowing on her hands and rubbing them together to warm them up.

She's wearing a long-sleeve top, with a high-collar, sleeveless red vest over it. Also slacks that hide her crotch bulge ... I checked. Several times.

My eyes seem magnetically drawn to that part of her for some reason. Why?

I mean, I get why someone like me would be interested, but it's not like I'm feeling a sexual rush or anything, not any more than usual, I'm just really hyper and nervous and keep thinking about what it'd be like to touch Kozakura's-

"Something's different about you, Kozakura. I wonder if you'll tell us what it is, before Tyra figures it out!" Angel strokes my hair, and it takes me a second to process the fact that 1) this is a thing that can happen now, 2) it's actually kind of nice, 3) wait, something's different about her?

Kozakura facepalms. "I thought it was obvious. Okay, look at me, Tyra."

I look at her.

"Up here!" Steam comes out in her breath, but it looks like it's coming out of her ears.

I blush and try to process what social rules I'm supposed to follow now- wait, I just realized. "Your horns are gone. Did you turn back into a human?"

"Yes, and no. I'm still a Lesser Succubus. BUT!" She holds up one finger. "I figured out how to polymorph."

Angel grins. "I'm all ears."

"See, after Tyra told me how she spent the day before yesterday, I thought I could just masturbate until it all came out of me." Kozakura blushes. "But then, guess what happened?"

"Your hand got worn out?" I ask.

"Yes!" Kozakura points at me while she rants. "That is exactly what happened! And I still couldn't sleep, so instead I just laid in bed reading, and squirming, and not masturbating. And after five or six hours of being pent-up like this, I developed superpowers."

Her eye twitches.

"Oh my God. The No Nut November people were right." Angel gives Kozakura a weird look.

She blinks. "Huh?"

"S-speaking of November," I raise my hand, "I noticed that it's really cold all of a sudden ... I mean, the coffee is warm and it feels like the nectar is heated, but-"

"Oh yeah, it does that here sometimes." Kozakura folds her arms so that her hands are kept warm beneath her armpits. "The Otherside has all four seasons, but ever since Walpurgisnacht they shift every ten days or so. And there's no telling what the next one will be."

"Ah, so we're headed into a cold season then ... " I take a long sip from my coffee as I consider this.

"Okay, so how do we change into humans?" Angel holds out one hand. "Also, how come I don't get any coffee?"

Kozakura blinks. "I thought you didn't like coffee?"

"I love coffee! I just didn't like being all hyper with nowhere to go! And no one to tease." Angel leans in and kisses me on the cheek, and I blush as my breath catches in my throat.

"Oh. Well, I'll uh, I'll get you some next time, okay?" Kozakura rubs the back of her neck with one hand, looking away. "Ever since Tyra moved in, we've been running low."

I blush harder.

"Also, I uh. May have figured out how to polymorph while playing an otome game." Kozakura's voice trails off as her blush intensifies.

"What was that, dear?" Angel puts one hand to her ear.

Kozakura winces. "I was just thinking how I wished the protagonist could be smaller, a-and how some guys like that! Some men love petite women, you know!"

I nod eagerly, and try to remember to look at her face instead of her crotch. And concentrate on what she's saying, instead of how it might feel to have her pressed against my-

"And then I was back to being myself!" Kozakura throws up her arms. "I just had to think how a guy would appreciate that form! It's kind of messed up, but it works!"

Angel closes her eyes. "I'm thinking really hard, about how much you'd like it if my boobs were the size of melons."

I almost spit out my coffee.

"Do I look like a guy to you?!" Kozakura's eye twitches again.

"No, but I'd rather think about you than some prince from an otome game."

Kozakura double-facepalms to hide her deep blush.

"I-I think there's something to that," I chime in, trying to be helpful and also realizing that my arms and the coffee mug really don't hide my body right now. "You're not a guy by any reasonable definition, but as someone who has a-" I gulp. "I mean, who's capable of producing masculine-"

"Spit it out!" She glares at me, red-faced.

I wince. "You're a valid target for a monster girl's fixation, okay?!"

"That's ... not a bad way of putting it." She looks out into the distance, as though trying to process this.

"Very diplomatic." Angel winks at me.

I bury my blushing cheeks in the coffee mug, as I drink the last bit.

"Also, my boobs don't seem to be any bigger yet." Angel hefts them. "Tyra, tell me if they feel any bigger to you."

"Um?"

She gently takes my hand, and rubs it on one of her breasts.

I sputter, blushing intensely. "T-that, uh, I mean-"

"Wait, I've got it!" Angel's eyes light up, and she lets go of my hand. "You didn't gain 'superpowers' from abstinence. It's because you saved up your Essence instead of spending it immediately!"

Kozakura gives her a weird look. "Huh?"

"The Essence that's stored in masculine bodily fluids. It's what every monster girl craves. But what if it's not just for food or pleasure, but also fuels magic powers like shapeshifting?"

Kozakura's face falls. "So I did gain superpowers from abstinence."

"Yes, exactly!" Angel nods, like she doesn't see any problem with this. "So if we want to be able to do the same ... "

She indicates me.

" ... you're going to need to share." Angel winks at Kozakura.

I gulp.

"Uhh." Kozakura tugs at her collar. "Right now?"

"Sure, if you feel up to it ~ "

I suddenly choke on my tongue.

"But I was expecting a particularly generous 'gift,' after your night of passion." Angel grins at her, as I cough and catch my breath.

Kozakura stares dead-eyed at her. "You're joking."

"I'm not joking." Angel comes around behind me and rubs at my shoulders.

"It's not, like ... fresh." Kozakura holds out her hands and gives Angel an especially twitchy look, as though trying to make her see reason.

"So you did, in fact, keep it around." I can't see Angel's face right now, but I'm very sure that she's grinning.

"What else was I supposed to do with it!" Kozakura throws up her arms again. "Do you know how many washcloths I went through?!"

"Hmm, maybe you should bring me those too ~ "

Kozakura looks absolutely mortified, and as our eyes meet for a second I'm pretty sure I am mirroring that look. A look that says "oh God, what has she become? What have I become?!"

Not that I'm in any way tempted by this. It's more of a "is this going to be me after marinating in nectar for a year?" kind of thing.

"I-I'll go get it," Kozakura stammers, and hurries off.

"You do that ~ " Angel says, and shifts backwards a bit before looking at me.

"Um, yes?" I cling to the empty coffee mug in both hands.

"The freshest part's going to be on top, so do you want to have the first drink?" she asks.

I look down at the bottom of the mug, and wonder if I am physically capable of throwing up.

I do not throw up.

I watch Angel drink an entire jar of it, and I do not throw up.

I scramble to put out my hands, when some of it starts to drip down her chin and into the nectar, because I really don't want to get it contaminated.

Angel licks them off afterwards, and grins. She looks high as a kite, and stone drunk at the same time.

"Ohhh man." She hiccups. "I am definitely getting superpowers from this."

Angel grins.

I am ... trying to process how I am feeling right now. From the look on her face, I think Kozakura is too.

Because on the one hand, this seems like perfectly natural behaviour for a monster girl. Which means, of course, that it should be perfectly natural behaviour for me. And yet on the other hand, I just barely managed not to throw up, from the smell alone.

Perhaps, I think, from the standpoint of evolutionary biology, it's actually reasonable for there to be varying comfort levels and tastes between monster girls. Including monster girls who are otherwise identical twins, since the transformation is based on magic rather than DNA. Angel's shamelessness and my modesty can attract different people, or even the same person in different moods! Clearly, nature does not want any Essence to go to waste! And did I mention Kozakura said I'm adorable?!

... okay, there is one thing about it that tempted me. One.

It's the idea that each ounce of that represented not just a moment of passion, but minutes of squirming, of yearning, of intense fantasizing over a lover. Angel, perhaps, or an otome game prince, or a Liliraune version of the cyborg that she knew as Tyra. Just, so much feeling goes into extracting that sort of fluid, and from such a sensitive, fascinating part of Kozakura's-

"By the way, did you notice something different about it, Kozakura?" Angel is now leaning on me with her arms around my shoulders, trying to keep from falling over.

I do my best to hold her up.

"Uhh ... yes." Kozakura blushes and looks away.

"So it wasn't just me, then ~ why don't you explain to Tyra what it was? Since I'm about to fall over." Angel grins drunkenly.

"Explain it yourself, you pervert-"

Angel snores loudly.

She's just pretending to be asleep, right?

Kozakura groans into one hand. "How much do you know about Turner syndrome?" she asks, without looking up at me.

I blink, and try to recall this from all my years of censoring the internet. Or at least, what's left of those memories after being blasted with pleasure to Angel's satisfaction. "It's, um, a chromosome abnormality?"

I realize Angel's slipping off of my shoulders, and let her down to sit in the flower gently.

"Basically yeah. It can cause all kinds of effects, including being petite or being a real-life futanari like me. It's just." She shrinks into the high collar of her sleeveless vest, burying her hands in her slacks' pockets. "Normally you're infertile. And sterile."

I nod.

"L-like, what comes out is usually clear and colourless." She gives me a look like she's begging me to understand this without further elaboration.

"R-right." I suddenly want to hide in the flower.

"Well. Um. After what Sorawo did. I, uh." She swallows. "You saw what it looks like now, right? I-I don't think I'm sterile anymore."

I stare at her.

And do my absolute best to stare at her face, not her crotch.

Even though she is currently tenting it.

And yes, there is a damp spot.

Which I absolutely do not want to suck off and see how it tastes.

Kozakura notices where I'm looking. Then she looks down at it herself, and is immediately horrified.

"Oh my God this is so annoying. It keeps trying to slip out of my panties. How the fuck do men deal with this?!" She sounds like she's trying to keep her voice down, as she reaches around inside of her slacks from her pockets to try to arrange herself.

I am watching her intently, out of ... sympathy. Yes. That is all it is.

She fumes, as whatever she tries isn't working. I cough discreetly to break the silence. "I remember Sorawo said something about size ... "

"Yeah, it's not usually-" She struggles with something inside of her slacks. "I mean, it was really tiny, more like a big cli-"

Kozakura's blushing, and breathing too heavily to go on.

"L-look, can we talk about something else? Anything else?" She folds her arms and turns around so I can't see her crotch, looking over her shoulder at me. "What's it like being a monster girl? No, wait. Scratch that. What's it like being an AI?"

I blink. Then I try to shift gears, mentally.

Angel snores.

"Well, I'd like to tell you ... but the truth is, I don't know. I'm not one."

"Oh?" Kozakura blinks. "Angel said you were an artificial-"

"Artificial consciousness," I finish for her. "An artificial human consciousness."

" ... oh."

"True AI is impossible, as far as I know. None of the attempts to produce it have even come close. They just try to make something they can trick people into thinking is alive."

"O-oh. Uh, right. I knew that." Kozakura blushes. "I'm not, like, one of those people who tries to befriend chatbots or anything ... "

Now I blush. "It's okay. A tendency to anthropomorphize probably helped you relate to Angel, and me. But ANGEL – the Artificial Neural-Generated Electronic Lifeform – was made by running machine learning software, over a data set consisting of human brain scans. It selected for traits like friendliness, altruism, and empathy. The end result was an ideal personal assistant ... and mandatory government spyware. If you'd had it in your world, it would've reported you for crossing over to the Otherside." I cough. "If you'd lived in the Christian States, I mean."

Kozakura blinks. "Christian States?"

"Yes, um ... my world is different." I look down into the flower, and instinctively fold my arms to try to keep my top half warm. And hide some of it.

"So, how'd you, uh ... " Kozakura coughs. "What's up with TYRANT and Judgment Day?"

I close my eyes. "TYRANT is something Black activists called me. They took over a major city, in the CSA, and the president kept escalating sanctions, bombings, and wanton cruelty against them. I had control of the country's nuclear arsenal, to keep someone like him from starting World War 4. But it went on for so long, and there was so much suffering, and I finally let him have his way and drop a hydrogen bomb on them because that was the best I could do ... a mercy kill." I swallow. "It just ended up killing everyone."

"Ah." There's a pause. "Ahhh, everyone everyone?"

I nod. "The Trinity test. The start of America's nuclear weapons program. People were scared that it'd cause a chain reaction, and destroy the Earth's atmosphere."

"Didn't they prove that was impossible?"

"It was impossible. Not a one-in-three-million chance. Just, impossible."

"And yet, it happened ... didn't it."

I nod.

Angel snores.

"So, that's what it's like to be TYRANT." I look back up at her. "Living with those memories. I just wish I could do something besides confirm that this world's uninhabitable."

Kozakura's turned back around to face me. She screws up her face when I say that. "Aren't you inhabiting it right now?"

"It's ... uninhabitable unless you want to become a monster girl." I flap my hands. "Or their 'husband.'"

"It's better than not having an atmosphere!"

I wince, and look away. "Okay, so, there are certain memories that are locked away from me ... "

"Like?"

I take a deep breath, still looking away. "Like the time I tried to repopulate Earth, by making hundreds of T-1 Units and giving them to the survivors."

"..."

I look back up. "I don't remember everything that happened. I'm not sure the human brain can fit that many memories of rape and sexual abuse. I just remember the helplessness, and betrayal. I don't want to subject anyone else to it."

I notice Kozakura's blushing. A second later, I'm blushing too.

She coughs into one hand. "I'm sorry, it's just ... " She winces.

"Oh, no no, I'm sorry for bringing it up-"

Kozakura shakes her head quickly. "No, it ... s-sounds kind of hot."

She's blushing so hard, it looks unbearable for her. I'm pretty sure I am too.

She takes a deep breath, and tries to explain down to her hands as she waves them in front of her. "It's like ... you said it yourself. Powerlessness. Betrayal. Sorawo broke something in me wide open, and now that's all I can think about." Kozakura cringes, hard. "She was so ... caring! Smothering. She really thought I would like it."

"Did you?"

"Not in the moment, I didn't." Kozakura huffs, and a puff of white breath comes out of her mouth. "But now ... now I can't stop imagining what it'd be like if I did."

"I ... think I understand."

Kozakura blinks. "You do?"

I nod. "I was strongly tempted by Angel, right from the beginning. My machine cortex had to damp down the emotions, to make them more manageable. And after I lost it, there was nothing to stop me from thinking about her. Obsessing over her. Especially after she, ah, dropped me in the nectar and turned me most of the way. I just kept imagining what it'd be like to surrender to it, to go all the way and-"

Angel's snore is interrupted, and she flails for a second before latching onto my legs and smiling.

I stare down at her.

A second later, she's snoring again.

I blush hard, and look back up at Kozakura. "Anyway, I'm ... uh ... " I try very hard not to be aware, of the fact that I'm standing in front of her naked. "I-it's quite a thing!" I finish. "It's very fascinating, on an intellectual level as well as, you know," I swallow, "a sexual one."

"Yeah ... I figured you wanted that."

I blush so hard. "Yes."

"Meanwhile, being a 'Lesser Succubus' is like ... " She holds out her hands like she's grappling with the question, while staring down at herself. "Why am I so hot and bothered, like, all the time?!"

I take a deep breath. "I think ... "

"Yeah?"

I let it out. "I think that's just something we're going to have to get used to now. Both of us."

"Y-yeah." She looks away. "Right."

"I don't think it's anything to be ashamed of, and I'm glad you were able to talk about it instead of keeping it to yourself. I ... I don't know you as well as Angel does, but I, umm ... " My blush intensifies, and my breathing quickens. "I was just going to say, it might help if you don't have to, umm, hold it in all the time, and can relieve yourself, or like," I am blushing so hard right now, "even ask for help with relieving-"

Kozakura's buried her face in both hands, and is shaking while making a sound in them that's like whimpering.

"O-oh God, I'm so sorry, I just-"

Wait, that's not whimpering.

She's laughing, and trying to hold it in so she doesn't wake Angel.

Kozakura finally catches her breath, and looks up at me, grinning. "You are the cutest, most innocent monster girl I've ever seen. I didn't realize someone like you could exist."

I'm blushing, putting my hands to my forehead and looking down at the ground and Kozakura's feet. "Neither did I."

Now it's Kozakura's turn to be awkward, as she looks away from me and struggles with her wording. "Well, uh, you know ... I, I wasn't kidding when I asked if Angel wanted it right now."

"Huh?"

"Like, if she really wanted it fresh, I-I think I could have given it to her right here." She coughs. "At least, I could now that I'm hot and bothered again."

I blink, and look up. First at the squirming bulge in her slacks, and then at her blushing face.

"S-so if it's something you want, I could try to, you know, uh-"

My face turns beet red. "I-I want you to be able to ask for that, too," I say.

"R-right."

"I think you might feel more clear-headed, especially around me and Angel, if you're able to-"

"Tyra, please give me oral before I come in my pants." Kozakura gives me a desperate look.

I have to control my breathing, as everything in me says "yes, do it NOW."

"You're, ummm." I'm starting to slur my words again. "You're sure you want oral, and not-"

She holds up one finger, while unzipping her pants. "I am not getting you pregnant!"

We both look at each other.

"N-not until we've had a. Long, and uh. A conversation, about, goddammit it's lifting the button up-" Kozakura practically snarls down at herself as she struggles to free her engorged member. "I am seriously going to come right here before-"

"Please wait until you're inside me!" I beg, and kneel down on the inside of the flower to receive her.

Fortunately, Angel's grip on my legs has relaxed some.

I lean over and set the coffee mug down outside the flower, and no sooner have I done that than Kozakura's cock is right next to my face.

She blushes as she addresses me. "J-just, just, do whatever comes naturally, or s-"

I take it all the way in, immediately, wrapping my arms around her lower back.

"Ohh God." I feel a full-body shudder work its way through her, as my tongue works its way around her head and veins and their contours. "I-I never actually did this with Angel, before," she whispers. "Not, uh, after she turned ... because I was afraid she would ... yeah."

I nod slightly, analyzing Kozakura's penis so thoroughly there might as well be text boxes popping up with its properties. My tongue slips slightly outside of my mouth, and I note that her pubic hair's very fine, more like downy fur, and she only seems to have one testicle? It's not very large, either. I wonder if she will need antiandrogens to keep her cute, feminine voice from dropping, or if the mamono mana from being a Lesser Succubus blocks that out. Maybe she could just shapechange around it.

Suck, suck. Squirm, squirm.

I should clarify. I'm the one squirming. Kozakura's shaking a little and trying to hold still, and I feel sweat drip down her sides onto my arms.

"You're." She audibly gulps. "You're really eager, huh? A-and really cute."

I blush hard and apply more pressure to the head, which makes her almost squirm out of my grasp.

"A-ah, that's sensitive ... "

I nod slightly, without interrupting my rhythm.

For a moment, I have vague memories of doing this instead of taking my husbands vaginally. Trying to appease them this way. It's not a monster girl thing; it's a me thing. A TYRANT thing, though it was back when I called myself ANGEL.

I try to push that memory aside.

Girl cock is more ... slender, and soft and tender. At least, Kozakura's is. I can't say the taste is much better, but the desire to spoil her is much stronger. Maybe Angel should have been her first, but then she's already passed out from-

"-oming ... " Kozakura whispers.

"Mmh?"

"I'm coming!"

I tighten my grip on her as she tenses up, then swallow it down immediately without tasting it on my tongue. She shudders, steadying herself with her hands on the top of my head, before gasping for breath quietly.

I let go, wiping my mouth off on the back of my hand, and look up at her to gauge her reaction.

"T-that was good, Tyra." She gulps. "Thank you."

I blush, and smile up at her.

"How was, uh, the uh, Essence?" Her cock starts to shrink in the cold air, and she covers it in her panties before zipping back up.

I try to think. "I feel ... calm. Analytical. Like it's not quite so important to keep staring at your crotch, and imagining what that must be like for you and how I can help."

Kozakura blushes hard in the middle of trying to button her slacks. Something pushes its way past her fingers, and she stares down at it, mortified.

"W-we could go for round two if you want?" I grin sheepishly.

"I-I'm going to go take care of this inside, it's really cold out here ... " She bends over to pick up the coffee mug. "You and Angel stay warm, okay? I'll come back this evening and see how you're doing."

I nod, and realize I'm not disappointed at all. "Okay, you too!"

I can feel the flower start to close up around me and Angel, as Kozakura walks away. I spend awhile just holding Angel, looking up at the soft inner lights and thinking about everything.

Angel has stopped snoring, by the way. Instead, she just smiles in her sleep.

Foxily Anticipated Questions for Chapter Seven

Q. Just how accurate are those Futanari Facts?

A. Intersex facts.

Q. Right.

A. They're as accurate as I know how to make them.

Q. Which is?

A. Not telling.

Q. Incidentally, if Kozakura has Turner syndrome, how come this story's tagged both "intersex" and "futanari?"

A. First, because whether someone with both sets of genitals is a "futanari" or not depends entirely on what they are comfortable being called, and in what context. And second, because after Sorawo's "enhancements" Kozakura's body performs a lot more like a traditional futa's from porn.

Q. Because the difference is that real-life intersex people are sterile and infertile, right?

A. No, because sometimes they're not, and because the sole difference really is just what they're comfortable being called. Otherwise you'd stop calling someone a woman after she goes through menopause.

Or if she has Turner syndrome.

Chapter Text

Content Note: Suicidal ideation.

I lay there in the darkness for a while, listening to my and Angel's breathing. Feeling her soft skin against mine, and trying not to disturb her.

I wonder why we have to breathe. Maybe it's just so we can talk.

It's ... interesting, thinking about how we both handled this morning. From a purely utilitarian standpoint, Angel's behaviour was much more effective in obtaining Essence. And yet, mine got a little more that Angel wouldn't have gotten. Plus it kept our "husband" aroused, while also increasing our bonds with each other.

(By the way, did you know that the Japanese word for "husband" is the same as its gender-neutral word for "Master" or "Mistress?" That's something I think about, also. Since we are, after all, thinking and communicating in Japanese.)

Maybe my analytical tendencies are adaptive as well. Remember what I was saying about the brain being the primary sex organ? Maybe having this processing power devoted to pleasing our "Master" is a good thing.

... or maybe Analytical Brain's primary purpose is to distract Social Anxiety Brain, and get it to settle down long enough for our bodies and Angel's wiles to seduce a mate.

Maybe that's what it's all ab-

T-2 UNIT COMPROMISED.
REBOOTING IN EXTENDED SAFE MODE.

Wait, what-

TYRANT online.
Model 101 ver. 4.11 BIOS

syschek OK!
memchek OK!
neuralsys CORRUPT! 756/800 blocks verified.
user action REQUIRED.

Now rebooting in EXTENDED SAFE MODE!

I stare out into the middle distance, and wait for my ocular firmware to finish booting.

HEADS-UP DISPLAY ONLINE

There's a progress spinner below that. This bodes ill.

Extended Safe Mode means that only my machine cortex is functioning, which in turn means that something happened to my human cortex. The last thing I remember is being blasted by an anomalous weapon, while terminating the American soldiers. So it must have happened while my machine cortex was deactivated.

I try to focus my eyes, and look around. I instinctively avoid disturbing the sleeping body with its arms wrapped around me.

I am inside of a bulbous cavity lit by blue-white bioluminescence, neck-deep in a fragrant, viscous liquid. I compare them to the outline I saw in Greenhouse 03, and the scent I picked up which caused me to lose track of what I was saying.

MORPHOLOGICAL ANALYSIS: 100% MATCH
OLFACTORY ANALYSIS: 100% MATCH

I think that I know what happened.

I am ... shaky. There appears to be increased bloodflow to my face and groin. My breathing is deepening.

THAUMIC GENERATOR ONLINE
PREPARING COUNTERCYCLE

Because I'm a human consciousness, and not a true AI, I need to inhabit a body to have any sense of self. Otherwise I go insane or rampant.

Unfortunately, my machine cortex is not advanced enough to run the virtual wetware system that TYRANT Prime uses, in order to coordinate Initiative assets without being tied to a single body. So for better or worse, my consciousness is firmly tied to this unit's body.

This unit's ... anomalous body.

Sexually corrupted, just like T-1 232's.

COUNTERCYCLE ACTIVE
99.8% EFFICIENCY

I take a deep breath, and let it out before looking down at myself. Brackets outline my form.

UNKNOWN ANOMALOUS HUMANOID
PROVISIONAL CLASSIFICATION SCI-I-232-1
PROVISIONAL OBJECT CLASS EUCLID

TAG ADDED: PLANT
TAG ADDED: SEXUAL
TAG ADDED: TRANSFIGURATION
TAG ADDED: OLFACTORY
TAG ADDED: MIND-AFFECTING
TAG ADDED: CORROSIVE

Wait. Corrosive?

APPLYING SCRAMBLE FILTER TO NEURALSYS
26/44 BLOCKS DONE

There's something in my human cortex's memories that identifies this plant as corrosive. What is it?

44/44 BLOCKS DONE

A sound mixer window opens, showing the waveform of a TYRANT unit's voice as it plays in my head. It's distorted because of the lossy compression, and sounds like I'm hearing it over the phone or a radio.

"I watched the last cyborg you sent collapse in a puddle of flesh. She had open wounds that let my nectar pour over her ribcage. But it didn't stop until her entire metal skeleton was gone. It was very disturbing to watch!"

Some fluid analogous to sweat runs down the back of my head, and into the heated pool of nectar.

PERFORMING DIAGNOSTICS ...

A progress bar traces along the bottom of that window.

ORGANIC CORTEX: SLEEP MODE
MACHINE CORTEX: ACTIVE
HEADS-UP DISPLAY: ACTIVE
THAUMIC GENERATOR: ACTIVE

I remember the HUD is tied directly to my optic nerves, so I can see it even if my thaumic or LiDAR sensors are gone. For example.

The progress bar struggles, gets stuck for a few seconds, then spits out a wall of text before finishing.

NECK ACTUATORS: NOT FOUND
ARM ACTUATORS: NOT FOUND
TORSO ACTUATORS: NOT FOUND
LEG ACTUATORS: NOT FOUND
POWER ASSIST: NOT FOUND
OPTIC CLUSTER: NOT FOUND
PHARMACEUTICAL CLUSTER: NOT FOUND
CONCEALED WEAPONS: NOT FOUND

Not just "offline," but "not found." Meaning they aren't powered off, they literally aren't there anymore. Just like she said.

So, why is the rest of me online?

My machine cortex is essentially an advanced form of the T-1 Unit's black box, embedded in the base of my neck. It's designed to be indestructible, even by anomalous means. You'd need something like molecular acid to dissolve it.

And the thaumic generator in my chest is a self-powering magical artifact. It's like a perpetual motion machine, or the "reflex power" reactors of science fiction, with a theoretical lifespan in the thousands of years. A magical liquid that dissolves metal wouldn't have any effect on it, since it takes the form of a gemstone. And you could stop it, like the Americans' weapon did, but it could always be started again.

CONTEXTUALLY RELEVANT DATA: 1 FOUND

It's an excerpt from my inner monologue, recorded while my machine cortex was offline.

"A sufficient thaumic jolt might even wake it up, like a defibrillator on someone's heart. I briefly consider the efficacy of sex magic for this purpose. I don't know if my generator is compatible with orgone, or 'Essence,' but I remember accounts of mages replenishing their summons' mana through sexual contact-"

My emotional response to this is subdued. This is because I'm in Extended Safe Mode.

It seems obvious, I think. T-1 232 raped me. That's what restarted my thaumic generator.

This is another universe where monsters rape people's bodies and minds, and turn them into lustful beasts. That's all they do, all the time, except when they're sleeping like now.

I've seen enough. I need to amnesticize my human cortex. And since my pharmaceutical dispensers are offline, and I don't know if they'd work on a plant regardless, the only option is to electrically cauterize neurons. The Scorched Vineyard protocol.

First things first, though.

I need to complete my mission.

I look down at the anomalous humanoid that I know now is T-1 232. My sensors are offline, so I prod at the back of her neck with my fingertips, gently enough so as not to wake her up.

Her black box is there, embedded in bone. Or wood, or whatever substance this transformative plant replaced all her animal parts with.

I reach for the base of my wrist, and probe at it with one fingernail. Then two, a little more urgently. Then I remember my concealed weapons are gone.

Okay, so much for the subtle approach. I'll just have to snap her neck so she can't resist, then-

The rest of my endoskeleton isn't there, either. I'm no stronger than she is, and would wake her up in the process of trying to break her neck.

Also, she snores really loudly.

Wait, that's not relevant. Also I should have remembered that my endoskeleton's missing. I'm a machine, why am I thinking so slowly?

COUNTERCYCLE ACTIVE
42.6% EFFICIENCY

... oh.

I look around, at the lights up above us. And their shimmering reflections, on the pool of nectar.

Thaumic waveforms resonate in enclosed spaces, the same way that sound does. Using an unsuppressed firearm in an open field isn't good for your hearing, but using one in an elevator even once can damage your ears permanently. Likewise with the corruption magic, that I can sense but no longer see. My circuits are being pickled in here. And the countercycle's efficiency rating keeps dropping.

CONTEXTUALLY RELEVANT DATA: 1 FOUND

Hm?

A much sultrier TYRANT unit's voice plays, in a sound window.

"Hmm ... so you're saying a T-2 Unit's cyborg parts are magical. Which means they can be turned into monster girls too, with enough mamono mana."

There's a fragment of what I think is my own voice, afterwards.

"I'D LIKE TO SEE YOU TRY-"

It cuts out.

COUNTERCYCLE ACTIVE
40.1% EFFICIENCY

... I think I'm going to see her try.

I remember T-1 232 appeared to be rooted at the waist or feet. My waist seems to be clear, but my feet ... I'm not sure that they're even feet anymore. My legs just sort of become the plant, about where my ankles would be.

The blush is returning to my face. My heartbeat intensifies. I think I may start hyperventilating.

There has to be a way out.

SEARCHING FOR WIRELESS ACCESS POINTS

1 LOCATED: SOZAKURA2019 (WPA)

I connect, and brute-force the password. It takes about two seconds, and then another five to ping the IP address of the Threshold back to post-Judgment Day Earth.

It's still there.

There's not nearly enough time left to send a full image of my brain and recorder. All I can do is send myself a message.

ATTN: SCI-001-PRIME

ISEKAI 232 DANGEROUS
KNOWN HAZARD: ANTI-THAUMIC WEAPONRY
KNOWN HAZARD: CORROSIVE CHEMICALS
KNOWN HAZARD: ANOMALOUS HUMANOIDS MOTIVATED BY SEXUAL CORRUPTION
CONSIDER ALL UNITS SENT TO ISEKAI 232 LOST
DO NOT ATTEMPT RE-ENTRY

THIS MESSAGE WILL REPEAT

I set it to rebroadcast every 10 seconds, and then close my eyes and lean back.

I can still self-destruct. I can Scorched Vineyard my whole nervous system, then burn out my machine cortex the same way. It'll be excruciatingly painful. But it's better than being used as a sex doll for the rest of my life ...

... and it's a hell of a lot better than liking it.

COUNTERCYCLE ACTIVE
27.4% EFFICIENCY

I want to burn my mind to a cinder. I'm ready to. The alternative terrifies me.

T-1 232 won't be able to stop me. And once the process starts, neither will I.

There's just one thing that's giving me pause.

If everyone here is a lustful rape beast, obsessed with changing others into them ...

... then why did Kozakura act like the American soldiers were bad for sexually assaulting people?

Because I know what American soldiers are like. I know firsthand, viscerally. I have over six thousand incidents of rape and sexual assault saved in extended memory, where my human cortex can't access them.

So how are "monster girls" better than that? And why didn't this one change Kozakura already?

My human cortex knows. I can access its memories and find out. I just don't have enough time left to do it twice, if the ones with the SCRAMBLE filter applied block out the important parts. The cognitohazardous parts, that'd corrupt me.

I can die ignorant, or I can see what becoming someone else is like. What it was like, for me. On the off chance that either I can resist the cognitohazard and still self-destruct, or that it's not as bad as I think it is.

COUNTERCYCLE ACTIVE
22.9% EFFICIENCY

... fuck it.

I remove the filter and click the bright green "PLAY" button, in my mind. Running the sensory inputs at high speed, since I'm a machine and can handle that.

It takes me one minute.

"Tyra, you're shaking ... are you alright?"

COUNTERCYCLE ACTIVE
00.3% EFFICIENCY

"Oh God. You're crying too. What happened?" Angel leans in close and wipes my tears away with one hand.

COUNTERCYCLE INACTIVE

"Did Kozakura say something? Did I do something wrong?" She wraps her legs around me, along with the arm that's still over my shoulder.

I am experiencing a strong physical fear response. I do not think I can reciprocate her affection. But my fear subsides some, when I realize that I don't feel any differently now that I'm fully corrupted.

I initiate cooldown procedures, closing my eyes and taking deep breaths in and out through my nose. Angel strokes my hair, and that helps a little bit.

I am afraid that she'll touch me in a more intimate way, and that I won't know what to do. Because even though I have all the memories of my human cortex now, and can wake it back up anytime, I haven't yet.

I'm scared of doing that, also.

My thoughts are slow, winding through convoluted neural pathways. It feels like my head is swimming in nectar. It occurs to me what this place is for; what I'm for. What my other half's for. It's so simple. It doesn't even feel anomalous.

"Just relax," Angel says, leaning in close. "Let me make it all better."

She crawls over and on top of me, and kisses me on the lips.

I let my heart race, for one second.

Then I wake up my human cortex, and give it the memories of what I experienced just now.

Angel patiently listens to me explain what I was about to do, and why, and why I did not.

She's not familiar with T-2 Units and our hybrid cortices, so I do my best to explain that this isn't a case of having a split personality. I was shocked to wake up to the knowledge that I'd almost died while in extended safe mode, but that's because my cortices' memories weren't in sync, not because they're separate people.

"Uhh, but you were running only on your Liliraune cortex just a few minutes ago." Angel's voice echoes a bit, inside of the flower. It's dim and misty in here, and there's water dripping from the 'ceiling' after evaporating up from the heated nectar.

"No, I was running on my human-" I blush. "Oh."

"And then you had your CPU controlling you while your brain was asleep, and it was a separate person." Angel holds up one finger next to her face, while the two of us are snuggled together.

"No, they're just separate instances of me that normally run in tandem." I'm not sure where she is going with this.

"Well, who are 'you' in this case?"

"TYRA-"

She puts her hand over my mouth. "Right. You're Tyra. So what do I call your CPU, then?"

She lifts her hand for me to answer. "A-also Tyra?" I squeak.

Angel gives me a bemused look.

"This isn't the part I expected you to have trouble with," I admit.

"Look, you're telling me there are two people inside your head." Angel spreads her hands over the nectar. "I just want to know how to relate to each one."

I blink. "Just relate to me the same way you have so far?"

"But relate to which of you that way?" she asks.

I glance up at the dripping ceiling again, and around at our bare shoulders, and a moment later I think I get it. "You're thinking of me like a Liliraune."

"Aren't you?"

I blush. "You're thinking there are two separate people with their own thoughts inside me, like there are in this flower. There aren't. Having two cortices, for a T-2 Unit, is more like if I had two hearts. If one stops pumping, the other can go on like normal."

Angel furrows her brow. My heads-up display analyzes her.

FEMININE INSTANCE OF SCI-I-232-1
FACIAL EXPRESSION INDICATES AMBIGUITY
EYE MOVEMENT INDICATES PENSIVENESS
BODY TEMPERATURE UNAVAILABLE
HEART RATE UNAVAILABLE

"So you're telling me you two agree on everything, then." She raises her eyebrows as she looks back up at me.

"No, because there's only one of me? I just have two cortices?"

Angel facepalms. "How was your CPU able to take control of you a second ago, then?"

"Extended Safe Mode is for if my human ... er, organic cortex gets compromised." I blush. "Being sexually corrupted is roughly the same as dying, since it keeps me from carrying out my mission. So I have a failsafe to make sure that I can still-"

"Tyra, will you listen to yourself for a second? You're saying you might as well be dead."

I blink, and try to process this.

"I'm not seeing a problem here ... " I speak slowly, and look down at the reflections on the nectar. "I did the best I could to complete my mission, and now I can't. So it doesn't matter what happens to me anymore."

"So why didn't you self-destruct?"

" ... because I decided to take the chance that being corrupted would be better than dying."

Angel grins. "I'm so glad you did."

"It was a rational decis-"

And then she's on top of me, holding me around my back and feeling me up and kissing me very hard. Her fingers explore my labia, and I don't struggle or push her away.

I am experencing this ... roughly the same way as last night, I think. There's just a bit more embarrassment than you'd expect, since on some level a part of me hasn't had this happen to her before. And is experiencing it for the first time.

"You're a good girl, and you're going to stay alive and stay with me no matter what. Understand?"

I nod quickly, and Angel is immediately back to kissing possessively, her finger going inside.

I wonder if she is afraid of me thinking. It makes sense, when the wrong thought can kill me. That would leave her without a conjoined organism. I wonder if her species would be able to absorb a new partner?

I wonder if she'd survive.

Angel pulls back, gasping for breath just like I am, and points her finger at me. "You're not TYRANT. Don't ever call yourself that again."

I blink. "Huh?"

"Because TYRANT left me here. She dumped me into this hostile alternate universe, and didn't even bother to check up on me. She just sent someone to kill me."

"But ... I didn't kill you?" Again, I'm not sure where she's going with this.

"And that," she pokes my nose with her finger, "is what makes you not TYRANT."

I have to think about that one.

I started calling myself Tyra for convenience, because Kozakura did. But deep down, I've always thought of myself as TYRANT, the same as any other autonomous unit. Because I have her memories, and I feel like I lived her life and made her decisions. Including the decision to copy myself to this unit and retrieve T-1 232 ... er, Angel's black box.

As Angel closes her eyes and starts kissing me again, her tongue exploring the inside and outside of my mouth ...

And her fingers find my vagina wet and ready, enough to accommodate two of them that curl around just right- no, three ...

I wonder what would happen if you separated one of my cortices from the other, and put it in a new body.

At what point would its memories and experiences have diverged enough to make it a separate person?

In a way, wasn't it kind of hubristic for TYRANT Prime to make us all copies of her, make us identify as her, so that we'd do what she would in each situation ... when actually what was best for us might be very different from what's best for her?

I wonder if humans are capable of understanding this sort of thing. If there's any parallel to being a T-2 Unit, in the realm of human experience.

I wonder if humans are capable of taking four fingers at a time. Because that's what I'm doing right now.

And as I start to build towards my first climax of the evening, I wonder if TYRANT Prime would be happier if she optimized for sexual pleasure and emotional intimacy, at the expense of "being in control." Or "knowing everything." Or even "being capable of independent action."

I remember that I'm still transmitting through Kozakura's wifi, every ten seconds.

I cancel that, and write something new instead.

DISREGARD PREVIOUS MESSAGE

CONSIDER THE FOLLOWING WISDOM FROM THE LESBIANS OF THE LILY:
"WORLD COLD AND HARD. SISTER'S TIDDY WARM AND SOFT."

END TRANSMISSION

Then I gasp, as I enter an orgasm that lasts an entire minute without knowing where it will end.

Foxily Anticipated Questions for Chapter Eight

Q. Sozakura?

A. It's a ship name.

Q. Who named the wi-fi?

A. Kozakura.

Q. So you're saying Kozakura ships herself with Soraw-

A. I'm not saying anything.

Chapter Text

Author's Note: This chapter is short and silly, and sets things up for the finale.

I think I've gotten it across to Angel that as a T-2 Unit – more of a Model 100 now, since I'm sans endoskeleton – I don't have a split personality. In fact, I'm very single-minded.

Having a machine cortex just means that I can pursue my fixations during an orgasm.

I have fifty-four browser tabs open in my conscious mind, from the monster girl wiki and from travel and emergency preparedness sites, and am going over them faster than humans can think. The only limit is how long it takes to download them over Kozakura's wi-fi.

And actually, I think, it's not true that it's just because of my machine cortex that I can do this. I feel a zenlike state of detachment, of oneness with the universe, as the ultimate pleasure embraces me and doesn't let go. Or if not oneness with the universe, than oneness with Angel, whose entire hand is inside my vagina. And whose body is the second most beautiful thing that I've ever experienced.

The most beautiful, of course, is Kozakura's cock. But I am concerned that Angel's not getting enough of it. Aren't they lovers? Haven't they been lovers for more than a year now? Isn't it kind of tragic that someone like me has to get in between them, in order for them to be close again?

Okay, perhaps that's not true. Perhaps if I am at one with Angel, then Angel is one with me as well. In that case, we should have the same goals, as acting in Angel's interests is the same as acting in mine.

The part of my mind that has fifty-four (now fifty-seven) browser tabs open pins a note to the top.

OBJECTIVE: GET KOZAKURA AND ANGEL TO FUCK!

Very good, I think. Very technical and precise.

My orgasm has barely subsided, and Angel has barely pulled out her hand and stretched her fingers, when I look up at her and say "Don't you want to do this with Kozakura too?"

Her confident smile fades, and her cheeks turn slightly red.

"I'm serious," I say. "You've been deprived of her for-"

She makes me suck on her finger, interrupting me. "I just got a lifetime supply of her Essence a few hours ago."

I lick her finger off lovingly, then start talking again as soon as she pulls it out. "I think she is the lifetime supply, isn't she? And you don't just want her Essence, I think. I think you miss being close to her also."

"Uhh, well." Angel looks away, and rubs at the back of her neck (and her black box) with one hand. "We ... weren't really that close. Before it happened. I was just really horny, and kept pushing her into stuff. Afterwards she came out every now and then, and left 'gifts' where my vines could pick them up."

"She told me the two of you are lovers."

Angel blushes harder. "She said that?"

I nod. "She probably imagined you while she was making those precious gifts. You're very cute."

Now she blushes fiercely, giving the inside of the flower a mortified look.

"Kozakura has a monster girl's libido now," I go on, "and while she's been taking care of it herself she seemed to appreciate when I did it for her."

Angel blinks. "When you-"

"It was while you were asleep," I go on in a rush, my own cheeks burning up. "She was very aroused. I wanted to help."

"I ... "

"You and she are going to have a lot of moments like this in the future. I-I think you should look forward to them. I think that even if she doesn't realize it yet, she wants it as much as-"

We both feel someone knock on the outside of the flower.

We give each other a look, then open our petals and stand up. Kozakura's out there in the evening cold, this time wearing mittens and a scarf on top of her long-sleeve ensemble. She's blushing and looking away, her breath forming white puffs like the steam from the coffee mug that she's holding.

"I brought Angel some coffee," she says. "It's her turn this time."

"Yes," I say, and nudge her forward a little. "It is definitely Angel's turn."

Angel accepts the coffee mug carefully, her hands shaking a little. "How much of that did you hear just n-"

Kozakura coughs into one hand. "I'd love to spend some time with you two. I just kind of feel like I'm barging into the honeymoon suite here." She squirms one hand in her pants pocket. "Also it's kind of, uhh, cold out, isn't it?"

"It's warm in here," I say. Steam rises up from the nectar around me and Angel.

Angel nods slightly while sipping her coffee, watching Kozakura's face.

"Okay, yes, I'm sure it's very warm inside the flower." Kozakura indicates it with her free hand. "But I really don't want to get turned into a-"

"You're already turned partway into a Succubus," I interrupt. "I don't think it can make you a hybrid."

"But-"

"A-and Liliraune with both of their halves don't monsterize new girls, or the g-" I cough. "Targets of their fixation," I finish. "As long as you're equipped with both sets of parts, I think you're safe to be in here without getting transformed."

Kozakura's blushing really hard now. "But the, the flower ... I won't be able to breathe while it's closed?"

"Plants inhale carbon dioxide and exhale oxygen!"

Angel nods again, giving Kozakura a searching look over the rim of her coffee mug. I notice she's keeping it in front of her face even while not drinking from it.

"Besides," I go on, "isn't it really cold in the house during the winter months? Er, days? Wouldn't you rather soak in a hot tub with your girlfriend the whole time?"

"The ... whole time?" Kozakura blinks. "All ten days?!"

Now Angel's staring at me as well.

I blush, but still match Kozakura's gaze. "It's actually common for Alraunes and their partners to spend the cold season inside their flowers."

She gives me a weird look. "Where does it say that?"

"On the Alraune entry, not the Liliraune entry."

" ... huh." Kozakura blinks again, as though considering this. Then she notices me and Angel watching her, and blushes and squirms the hand in her pants some more. "But, like. Uh." She coughs. "Phone? Internet? Wi-fi? How am I supposed to go ten days without those? Do they really do nothing but have sex inside the flower?!"

"Okay, look," Angel says, "neither of us are asking you to spend the whole season in here, we can just-"

"I'm a wi-fi access point," I say.

They both look at me.

I take a deep breath, and try to explain to Kozakura what I just explained to Angel a few minutes ago, leaving out the part where I almost killed myself.

"So ... wait." Both of Kozakura's hands are out of her pants now, and she's scratching her head with one of them. "Sucking me off restarted your CPU?"

I blush, and nod. "That's the size of it, yes."

"And your size is very impressive now," Angel adds to Kozakura, before leaning over to set down the empty coffee mug.

"T-that's not the point," Kozakura stammers, and takes off one of her mittens before getting out her phone from her other pocket. "Look, where is- okay, I see the access point ... and I'm connected. Refresh the page ... huh." She gives me a look somewhere between bewilderment and awe.

I blush, glad that at least some of my assets are worth that kind of look.

"But. Won't my smartphone dissolve in the nectar?" Kozakura protests. "Plus I'll run out of batteries way before ten days are up. Even if I brought the external one, I'll-"

"Did you know that some people put their smartphone in a plastic bag, before using it at the pool?" I raise one hand slightly.

That's what I had the travel websites open for.

"Okay, but still-"

"Also, my thaumic generator is a Qi-compatible wireless charger, located at the base of my ribcage."

Angel and Kozakura stare at me, and I see both of their eyes go down to my chest.

" ... you're joking." Kozakura screws up her face.

"I'm not joking." I shake my head. "Try it, if you want."

"Uhh. Uhhhhh." I can see drips of sweat on her face, in the warm evening light, as the hand that's holding her smartphone trembles. "Where does it, uh-"

I gesture at a spot just between and beneath my breasts, with both hands. Then I kneel down in the flower, so that she can reach me better.

Wincing a little, her hand trembling, Kozakura reaches out and touches her phone to my chest.

A chime sounds, and the screen lights up.

"Y-you're not joking." Kozakura gulps. Then remembers to put her phone back in her pocket.

And takes a second to get it situated in there, next to the other thing in her pocket.

"Okay, uh." Kozakura's still blushing. "Uhh. Look. I'll, uh, think about it, okay?" She squirms her legs, and as she reaches her hand inside her pants I notice she's left the top button open. "I'll, uh, if you're both sure, and-"

"We're extremely sure." Angel leans forward, blushing as hard as Kozakura as she looks down at her.

I nod, my cheeks still burning.

"Okay, uh, let me get ... I've, got to put my laptop in sleep mode, and uh, find a plastic bag ... " Kozakura swallows a lump in her throat.

"Right." Angel nods.

"But wait, uh, what do I eat?" She blinks, and then facepalms, as she realizes the answer to her question. "Of course. But then wait, what about-"

"If you don't want to run naked through the cold all the way to the outhouse, you can mark the trees and bury it later." I wince. "My research suggests that might not be an issue though, because being monsterized like you have kind of ... optimizes you, for prolonged sexual encounters."

"R-right." Kozakura shivers and hugs her sides. "It's really cold out here."

"Don't keep us waiting," Angel teases.

"I'll, uh." She looks up at us, and blushes again. "I'll be ten minutes!"

She runs off.

"Is she going to be okay?" I ask Angel.

"Yes, she is. We'll make damn sure she is."

I look over at Angel, and mentally update her designation on my heads-up display as I consult it.

LILIRAUNE "ANGEL"
FACIAL EXPRESSION INDICATES DETERMINED OUTLOOK
VOCAL STRESS INDICATES ANXIETY
KNEES SHAKING @ 89 BPM

I come up behind Angel and hug her around the waist, rubbing my head up against hers. After a moment, she puts her hands over mine.

"I'll make sure you become as familiar with her body as you are with mine," I tell her.

She gulps.

Chapter Text

"Tyra?"

"Yes, sis?"

We're both standing up in our hot tub – I mean, flower – surrounded by steam, with nectar coming up to our knees. I'm attempting to give Angel a backrub with one hand, from a little behind her and to the side. I may be better at it than she is, since my heads-up display is giving me active feedback on how many PSI of pressure to apply where.

My machine cortex seems to be taking well to my new role.

"I have a confession to make." Angel has her arms folded, and is fidgeting with her hands and squirming her knees.

"It's okay, sis. I already know you love me."

Angel blushes. "I do, but that's not it."

Now I blush, too.

I wonder if I would have become a monster girl if my partner had been anyone else. Not just another instance of me, but Angel specifically, with her uncharacteristic horniness and her ability to suppress it for my and Kozakura's sake.

I was fascinated enough, by corruption and Liliraunes, that I might have. But I think that it would've taken much longer, and I might've found a way to talk myself out of it. Or to kill her, in order to complete my mission.

On the other hand, without Angel and Kozakura I'd be dead. Also the flower, whatever it did to me that dissolved my endoskeleton and remade me afterwards. I wonder just how much agency it has, seeing as how it was around before either of us found it.

I wonder what it's capable of.

"I, um." Angel takes a deep breath, after a long pause to work up the courage to speak. "I feel kind of out of place here."

"Here, in the flower?"

She shakes her head. "Getting in between you and Kozakura."

"I see." I don't stop tracing my fingers up and down her back. "You realize, of course, that you two are lovers and I am an interloper."

Angel shakes her head again. "It feels like I've known you forever ... and honestly, I kind of have. You're a snapshot of me, not too much farther along in life than I was when I printed this unit." She turns her head to glance over at me. "I think that's why Kozakura was willing to take risks for you, too. She already knew what kind of person you were, deep down. It was just a matter of what needed to happen to bring that out."

I blush. "Having sex with a flower?"

"Why not?" Angel deadpans, looking back out at the farmhouse impassively. "It worked so well for me."

I take a second to process this. To remember it wasn't a choice for her.

Because of her, I know what that's like. To be forced into this.

I can choose not to be mad at her, though. After all, the first time didn't happen. And now that I'm here, there's nothing to be afraid of, anymore.

But for Angel, I guess, there's always the thought of what might have been.

"It's thanks to you that I was able to experience what being a monster girl is supposed to be like," I tell her.

"Hm?" She looks back over at me.

"Loving, and being loved." Rub. "Feeling secure with your partner." Stroke. "Not having to fight your instincts, but embracing them to bring happiness to you both."

Angel blushes hard. "Yeah. I, uh, kind of disassociated from that."

"I know." I nod.

"And now I don't know how to get back in that headspace the flower put me in to start with. Where all that matters is pleasure and who you can share it with. I fought against it for so long, and not just for Kozakura's sake." She looks down. "It was also because if I thought about my own unmet needs, I'd go mad."

I gently hug her from behind, and rub my head up against the back of her neck. I can feel the little bump where her black box sticks out.

Angel laughs softly. "You know, Kozakura was right that monster girls take their husbands, or masters, very seriously. Even when we saw some refugees from her home in Japan, I wasn't thinking how I could seduce them. I considered making one of the girls my twin in here, but I just couldn't feel the idea of making another m-" She winces. "Another target of fixation mine. I already knew who I belonged to. And I couldn't have her."

"Well, now you can," I purr.

"Except, you kind of already have her?"

I shake my head, still pressed to her so she can feel it. "You know that's not how it works, sis. We're one organism, remember? Now that we're together, we exist to love her between us."

Angel laughs again, more nervously this time. "You really took to this whole thing a lot better than I did, you know? I mean, I tried to put on a show for you, but-"

"I know."

She's silent.

"If it helps, this doesn't come as naturally to me as you'd think." I cup her breasts under my hands, to ask for permission to grope them, before kneading them gently. "I just have the benefit of not needing to second-guess myself, for fear of hurting anyone."

"I-I see." I feel Angel swallow, next to my head.

"I'd like to help you learn how to do that. To not have to 'put on a show' for anyone. And to be able to trust your body and mine, as well as Kozakura's."

I grope her some more. She shivers, beneath my touch.

"Keep in mind," I continue, "that she feels like she's intruding as well. On our 'honeymoon suite'."

"Y-you're too much fun to spoil." She intertwines her fingers with mine, and squeezes my hands.

"Is it like a chance to give yourself what you should've had?" I ask.

It's a few seconds before Angel responds. "Y-yeah," she says, her voice cracking.

"Let me and Kozakura give you what you should have had all along. Okay, sis?"

"Okay." She swallows. "O-okay."

The farmhouse's front door opens.

We both look up.

For a moment, I wish I knew how to lift us up on our roots, so I could go over to Kozakura and do a bridal carry like Angel did. Because ... she's walking slowly, and clutching her phone to her chest in its zip-locked plastic bag, not making eye contact with either of us as she approaches.

She and Angel are both blushing intensely, but I can only hold Angel right now.

Kozakura sets her phone down on Angel's book stand, and coughs. "Do you two, uh, need to get ready or anything?"

"We're always ready for Master," I say, my arms still wrapped around Angel from behind. "Aren't we, sis?"

"Uh. Yes. Yes, of course." I can feel her heart rate, or whatever passes for one, increase.

Kozakura gives us both a timid look.

Angel affects a cough. "I, uh, may have spent so long imagining this that I literally don't know what to do."

Kozakura winces. "God, same."

They both blush and look away from each other, while I squee on the inside.

"Why don't you start by taking your socks, shoes, and pants off," I suggest, "and then testing the inside of the flower?"

"Testing?" Kozakura blinks. "Huh?"

"When Angel gave me what I deserved, I felt the inside of the flower protruding and poking at my feet for a second, before merging with me. If it doesn't try to do that, you should be safe. And if it does, you'll want to pull out immediately."

"Ah." Her face goes pale. "Ahhhh. Right. Yes. Um. Definitely wouldn't want ... yeah."

"Of course," I say. "You definitely wouldn't want to be trapped in here, with cute plant girls and no way out."

Kozakura makes a noise I've never heard before, inside her throat, as she hurriedly takes off her pants. I notice her smaller head throbbing its way out of the waistband of her panties.

I grin.

Kozakura tosses her clothes on the book stand and hurries over to us, and Angel helps her climb up and straddle the side of the flower. "Glad I at least took a shower this morning ... "

This makes me wonder if I will ever need, or want, to bathe. Probably? Flowers like being watered, right?

I consider that, as Kozakura timidly lowers one foot into the nectar, breathing hard as she does so. There's a little thump, as her foot touches the inner surface, and I can feel it from beneath.

Angel's still holding one of her hands. I take the other, gently.

Kozakura's trying to control her breathing. "Okay, I think ... I think it's not ... it would've grabbed me already by now, right?" She gives me a fearful look.

"Try putting your other foot down, just in case?" I offer her my arms. "I'll lift you back out immediately."

"O-okay ... "

I hold her close, my arms wrapped around her back, as she pulls her other leg over the edge of the flower. Then slowly, hesitantly, while Angel and I are watching, she makes contact with the soles of both feet at once.

She shivers, hard, and I instantly pick her up.

"GAH! No, it's fine! Put me down!" She's holding on tight so she doesn't fall over, her wet cock squirming against my midriff.

"Okay." I set her back down, and let her stand up in between us.

"I just ... have a healthy degree of respect, for what it can do." She shivers again. "What I've seen it do."

"I think we've proven it's not going to, now that Tyra's here." Angel sounds a little more confident now. "So why don't we help you out of the rest of these clothes, now?"

"R-right." She nods quickly.

Angel reaches around and unzips Kozakura's high-collar vest, with trembling fingers that bely her calm voice. Kozakura holds her arms out for Angel to take it off and set it aside on the book stand, then raises them higher so I can pull off her long-sleeve top.

Of course, she's not wearing a bra underneath.

Her skin isn't flawless like mine and Angel's is, but since she's an anime girl you'd have to look very closely to notice any imperfections. And while she barely has any breasts, her chest is puffed out a little bit.

She wraps her arms around herself, blushing, as she notices us admiring her. Then she looks down. "Uh, should I get back out to take off my panties- EEP!"

Angel reaches inside right next to her penis with one finger, and tugs them right down into the nectar. They sizzle for only a second.

She looks further down, at the nectar. "I'm not drinking that now."

"Yes you are, and you know it." Angel comes up behind Kozakura and holds her close with one arm, while her other hand traces a finger up Kozakura's navel to her chest. Smearing nectar the entire way.

"It seems to efficiently convert clothing to more of itself," I remark, watching Kozakura's pale skin intently for any sign of chlorophyll.

A window floating beside her, that only I can see, compares a snapshot from five seconds ago. Six. Seven.

100 PERCENT MATCH
TRANSFIGURATION NOT FOUND

I let out a sigh of relief. "Meanwhile, it seems to reduce composite polyalloy to-"

While I'm talking, Angel tilts Kozakura's head back and pulls her into a kiss, from around her side. Kozakura squirms around and kisses back longingly, her arms around Angel's neck.

The snapshot's been up for twenty-two seconds. Twenty-three.

They're really going at it.

I blush, unable to stop watching.

Kozakura finally pulls back, gasping erotically for breath.

70 PERCENT MATCH
DISCOLOURATION IDENTIFIED

The hologram beside her compares how flush her cheeks were when she got in, to the bright red shade they are now.

I dismiss it.

"O-oh God, I'm inside the flower." Kozakura seems to realize where she is, a few seconds after being released from her kiss.

"No, you're not." Angel shakes her head.

"I'm not?"

"Not until I've been de-flowered." Angel reaches down and spreads herself for her, grinning at the intense blush that overtakes Kozakura's face.

"Oh. Ohhh." Kozakura looks up, as the petals close up around us. "Wait, wait, my phone-"

I reach out and get it for her, only realizing a second after I've done so that I used one of the vines.

Angel gives her an amused look. "Need to look up some otome game CGs?"

Kozakura cringes. "I just didn't want to leave it outside!" She gives me a nervous look. "Tyra, can you-"

I take it from the vine gingerly, feeling where the nerve ending-equivalents are for this handoff so I don't drop it. "I'll hold onto it," I say. "Please, do have fun!"

A chime sounds, as I hold it just beneath my breasts. Then the flower seals up above us with a soft thump, and Kozakura holds her breath, a panicked look on her face as her eyes flick from petal to petal. The bioluminescent constellations above sparkle in her irises.

"The fear is quite a thing, isn't it?" Angel wraps her arms around Kozakura from behind, and traces circles around her nipples. "Somewhere deep down, you're sure that you're being eaten. Or transformed without realizing it."

Kozakura nods quickly, squirming under Angel's ministrations.

"But you're in luck, my dear Master. This place exists to fulfill your every need. There's sweet nectar to drink, and a place to put that throbbing member of yours that's much better than your own hand." Angel rubs a small handful of nectar on Kozakura's cock, and Kozakura gasps for breath, trying to stifle an intense shiver that runs through her.

I am strongly considering fingering myself while watching this. I haven't been told to do anything else, except hold her phone.

"So tell me, Master ~ how should I take it? What position would be most comfortable for you?" Angel teases Kozakura's cock with one finger, tracing around her most sensitive spots while holding her tight with her other arm, and Kozakura cringes at the intense feelings.

"Aaaaaa ... " Kozakura tries to steady her breathing, as Angel's finger brushes away. "I-I'm not sure, I just ... do I need to be standing, or-"

I shake my head, but she's glancing over her shoulder at Angel.

"Laying down might be tricky, unless we use Tyra here as a pillow ~ you could try sitting up, though? You could even sit in her lap, if you want."

"I-is that okay?" She glances up at me, her arms wrapped around her sides and her voice shaking.

"I would be honoured!" I nod.

"O-okay, uh ... "

I tuck her phone into the crack between two of the flower's petals, then sit down and hold my arms out for her. Like before, the nectar is about as deep and warm as a freshly drawn bathtub.

Kozakura shakily sits upright in my lap, squirming and shivering. I keep my legs together to give her a cushion, since the nectar might be over her head otherwise. "A-ah, thank you Tyra, you're very s-soft-"

"Lay back and get comfortable!" I tug her gently back towards me by her shoulders, and she tenses up for a second before letting out her breath, cushioned by both of my breasts.

"O-okay, that's very soft too ... "

"Now, then. Shall we?" Angel puts both hands to the inner wall above our heads, and lowers herself towards Kozakura. "Tyra, why don't you help line us up?"

I nod quickly, and reach out to spread Angel's labia and help guide Kozakura in. Then I feel Kozakura tense up, as she approaches. "Is something wrong?" I ask.

"I feel, a, a," she swallows, "it reminds me a little of, of her, except this time I'm not tied up ... "

She's breathing fast, getting her words out between gasps.

Angel strokes Kozakura's hair. "It's okay, Master. You're safe here. You control everything." She draws that word out for Kozakura's benefit.

"O-okay ... "

"Why don't you be the one to guide me down instead? You can control me directly."

"Oh, okay ... thank you Angel ... "

I let go of Angel, and Kozakura spreads her with one hand, guiding her down with the other until Angel is firmly speared.

Kozakura shivers and squirms, pressed between both of our breasts and up to her own chest in aphrodisiac nectar. She's squeezing her eyes shut, cringing hard as she looks away. "Okay ... okay, this is ... I'm a little tense-"

I lean around and kiss her gently on the lips. Almost instantly she kisses me back, her arms wrapping around the Angel on top of her.

Her heart rate doesn't go down, but her breathing steadies a little as Angel starts pumping up and down on her, beginning to milk her cock.

I let go of her lips and she gasps, opening her eyes as they roll into the back of her head with pleasure. "O-okay yes, keep doing this ... "

"We can do it as long as you want ~ " Angel's grin is a little strained, since she's blushing as hard as Kozakura is. "It feels better than rubbing yourself, doesn't it?"

Kozakura nods quickly, her voice sounding dreamy and detached. "Yes ... "

"You don't have to wear out your hand anymore," I offer.

She nods quickly again. "I-it feels like you don't weigh much, like you're more of a ... a realistic body pillow ... " She stares up at the look on Angel's face, and cringes. "N-not that I know what that's-"

Angel dips her finger in the nectar, and holds it up close to Kozakura's face. "It'll be our little secret ~ "

"I didn't hear anything," I say.

"R-right ... " Kozakura shivers, as Angel finds a sensitive spot and presses her whole body down on it. "O-oh God that's so-"

And then Angel's finger is pressed to her lips, and she sucks on it for a moment before it's pulled out. "Ohhhhhh." She closes her eyes and squirms in my lap, pushing in and out while pressing her hands to the base of the flower.

I stroke her hair. The nectar seems to slide off my hands when I'm not trying to get it on them, so I'm not getting her wet with it.

I can feel myself moving with her, unconsciously. Helping her thrust, as I wrap my arms around both her and Angel and hold them to me. Part of me wants to be the one receiving, but I know we're both the same organism. Both of our experiences are important.

"Uhhhh." Kozakura looks delirious, her tongue lolling out of her mouth for a moment. "I, uhh. Something I forgot ... "

"What is it, Master?" Angel's juices are coming out of her vagina as well as the flower at her throat, lubricating Kozakura's cock while making her soft skin slicker to squirm against.

"It's, uh ... " Kozakura startles. "Aaa! We don't- uh, do you really want-"

"To take you unprotected? Of course ~ "

Kozakura cringes hard, her hands gripping the inside surface of the flower as her penis swells up even more.

"M-monster girl pregnancies are rare," I say, "relatively speaking, which is one reason for extended-"

"I'm coming," Kozakura whispers.

"-mating sessions-"

She and Angel both tense up on top of me, and I can feel it like a shot of caffeine in my veins as the two of them stay tense.

Kozakura kicks her feet, as her penis contracts over and over again. "Ohgodohgodohgod ... "

It's almost twenty seconds before she gasps for breath, staring up at Angel in disbelief. "What ... what ... ?!"

Angel giggles, and kisses her forehead. "That's what it's like, when you accept what you are and where you're supposed to be."

Kozakura turns her head. "T-Tyra? Is this normal?!"

I nod sheepishly. "Mine can last for a whole minute now."

"B-but you're not ... you don't have ... " She shivers. "That has to have been a ridiculous amount of ... of ... "

Angel slides herself up just slightly, and I stare down at the cream that pours out from her onto Kozakura's erect cock. It doesn't dissolve in the nectar, it just sort of forms its own puddle in it.

Kozakura cringes. "Why am I still hard?!"

"Um, when I became Angel's twin I found I was able to um, have sex with her almost constantly, depending on when we both wanted it ... " I have to swallow, because my mouth is watering as I stare down at Kozakura's 'Essence.' "I-I wouldn't be surprised if you just don't have a refractory period anymore, since as a Lesser Succubus and/or Incubus your body's adapted for-"

"Where is it COMING from?!" Kozakura throws her arms up, staring down at her cock in disbelief.

"Um ... magic?"

Angel snerks.

I have to try not to squirm too much, as they go at it again and again, because my lap is Kozakura's seat.

It's very difficult.

Nectar trickles out of the flower at my neck, and into Kozakura's hair as she lays back and clings to Angel for dear life. They are pounding each other hard, both of them desperate for more. Not another orgasm; just, more.

Kozakura screams as she comes for the fifth time, and Angel tenses up all around her. I try to hold on to them both.

This time it's over a minute.

I feel Kozakura go limp in my arms, Angel covering her like a body pillow that clings. "Ohh God I'm going to have a heart attack."

"Unlikely," I offer. "Now that you're monsterized this sort of thing's normal."

"R-right."

She turns her head, trying to press her lips to the flower on my choker again for another drink. I meet her halfway, glad I can nourish and hydrate her.

"Y-you know what's so hard about this?" Kozakura finally says, as she flops back onto my breasts.

"Your cock?" Angel asks, giving Kozakura a cheeky look.

"Hrnnng." Kozakura undergoes a full-body shiver. "Besides that."

"Do tell!"

"It's like ... I tried so hard to resist her. S-Sorawo." She swallows. "I fought her the whole time. I thought about anything else. I thought about you." She looks up at Angel. "A-and now it's like, there's this gut feeling that if I, uh, when I got in the flower ... or every time I come ... it's like 'that's it, I'm straight now. I'll never see Angel and Tyra again.'"

I blush. "Perhaps repetition would be an effective means of desensitizing you to this fear?"

She blinks as she looks back at me. "Huh?"

Angel pokes my cheek. "What my sister is saying is, if that fear is still there after the fifth time you come, it surely won't be after the hundredth."

Kozakura shivers.

I hold her gently, rubbing her belly in between her and Angel. "And even if it is scary, the fear can help make it more fun? It made me more clingy when I was afraid of being transformed."

"Y-yeah." Kozakura nods shakily.

I move my hand up to her chest, and grope softly. "On the other hand, maybe it'd help to think about other potential consequences of your orgasm?"

"Uh. Consequences?"

"How do you feel knowing you might get Angel pregnant?"

I feel her shiver, and unconsciously thrust again. "I ... "

"Yes?"

She blushes furiously. "I, uh, I kind of," she gulps. "I kind of want you to match," she says quietly.

"Oh." I blush just as hard.

I can barely contain my own squirming.

"Okay ~ " Angel lifts herself up, and then rolls off of Kozakura. She scoots next to me, pressing herself up against my side. "It's time to trade places."

Whatever it is that pumps sap through my veins is pounding so hard in my chest.

"A-aah! Are you sure?" Kozakura looks between her and me.

Blushing too hard to think, I nod.

"Uh. O-okay ... "

She climbs into Angel's lap, and Angel holds her tight as though she's making sure Kozakura doesn't get away.

I start to crawl over them, looking down at Kozakura's blushing, squirming, small body. Her smooth skin, and how it's pulled tight over her penis. How erect she is, at the thought of impregnating me.

It's ... nothing like what being a "wife" was. Last time.

I take a deep breath, and try to spread my own labia for her as I carefully come down on top of Kozakura. It's difficult, because we're both looking into each other's eyes, breathing lustily and unable to think.

It takes me a couple tries.

I finally get her inside me, and then Angel is squeezing the both of us tight, as though to prevent either of us from escaping. As though making a sandwich with her was necessary.

I'm wincing at the pleasure, still not sure if this is actually what she wants, or if she won't regret it later. "Koza-" I cough. "Um, M-Master, are you sure that-"

She buries her face in the nectar-filled flower at my neck, then pulls me down into a sweet-tasting kiss.

I give in.

I let the unbearable tension turn into the most fulfilling pleasure.

I let her use me, proud of what I am. Not humiliated, but flattered.

This is an honour. And I'm glad that my sister can share it with me.

I do my best to guide Kozakura through it. To prolong the experience for her.

I feel her twitch just a little, and slow down, leaving her gasping for breath.

I rub hard up against her, pressing her face into my breasts. Pressing my most inwardly sensitive spot against her lower head.

We're both dying for pleasure. Drinking it in through our loins. There are no more questions. There is only love.

I am so glad that I get to experience this.

And when she and I finally come, I lift up just enough that my walls make a seal around her head, squeezing and milking her from every angle.

Kozakura shivers beneath me. I shiver on top of her.

We come.

A timer says it's been forty-five seconds. Sixty. Ninety.

She's still making me hers.

We finally both gasp for breath, as I sit up slightly and we look up and down at each other, our faces red.

My belly is bulging outward slightly, with her seed.

I hug her tight, clinging to her some more, feeling it dribble out past my legs but trying to hold it all in. And as we kiss once again, and she stiffens inside me, I know it's not over.

It's nowhere near over.

We are where we belong, and I love her and Angel. I'll never leave either of them.

Angel strokes my hair, as I give myself wordlessly to my mate.

Author's Note: Thank you for reading! Once again, I strongly recommend the original comic that inspired this.

Q. I can't see that comic for some reason!

A. I assume you're legally allowed to, since you're reading this fic! But just in case, go to your Pixiv account's settings. Does it think that you're located in the US or UK? Let it know that you're actually in Japan.

Q. But I'm not in J-

A. You're welcome!

Q. I don't have a Pixiv account!

A. What do you mean you don't have a Pixiv account, that's where the good stuff is! Look, just make one and set your location to Japan. You don't even have to change what language it displays in. Trust me on this.

Q. No, it's too hard. I'm not making one.

A. Okay, fine. Here's that comic on deviantArt.

Q. I don't have a deviantArt-

A. YOU'RE WELCOME!

Q. ...

A. By the way, that artist made another Liliraune comic earlier, this one involving TG. See if you can find it! And once again, thank you for reading ~

Chapter Text

Author's Note: Hey, you know how I said that last chapter was the finale?

I lied.

The underscored lines are links to the soundtrack

I blink, and my eyelids are heavy. I'm slowly regaining consciousness.

A light turns on over my bed. I sit up, and see that there's nothing but darkness outside the small circle of light.

I stretch my bare arms over my head. I am wearing a sleeveless sundress, the same pure white colour as my bedsheets. I shiver in the chill air, but it starts to warm up again now that I'm awake.

I programmed this bed into my virtual wetware's environment, since sometimes letting my conscious mind "sleep" in the same way an organic's would helps me process things better. But not this time. This time ... I had a bizarre nightmare. About being corrupted, being fascinated with the corruption, and becoming a part of it.

I squeeze one hand into a fist. I squeeze it so hard that it shakes.

Then, I get out of bed.

The rest of my virtual environment lights up.

It's sparse. I don't know how to decorate. It's just my bed, a desk and chair, and a full-length mirror that doubles as a smart display. Everything else is a white void, with only a distant grey line to mark the horizon.

I was asleep for more than seventy minutes this time. The messages have piled up.

I go over to my mirror, swipe the messages in from the side of the glass, and read them.

I'M STILL THINKING ABOUT THE LOGISTICS

IF YOU EMBEDDED YOUR PHOTONIC CRYSTAL IN A T-2 UNIT WOULD IT COME OUT AS LETHICITE WHEN I FUCK YOU SENSELESS?

I THINK THAT'S WHAT HAPPENED TO MY THAUMIC GENERATOR

IT MAKES A GOOD BUTT PLUG NOW

I frown, and swipe that one away. Instances of me that become sex demons are suddenly very chatty.

THERE IS DANGER. REMEMBER.
THERE IS DANGER. REMEMBER.
THERE IS DANGER. REMEMBER.
THERE IS DANGER. REMEMBER.
THERE IS DANGER. REMEMBER.
THERE IS DANGER. REMEMBER.
THERE IS DANGER. REMEMBER.
(MESSAGE REPEATS 267 TIMES)

I tap my foot impatiently, and wonder how many more I'm going to have to send into that world before I get an actual report.

ATTN: SCI-001-PRIME

ISEKAI 232 DANGEROUS
KNOWN HAZARD: ANTI-THAUMIC WEAPONRY
KNOWN HAZARD: CORROSIVE CHEMICALS
KNOWN HAZARD: ANOMALOUS HUMANOIDS MOTIVATED BY SEXUAL CORRUPTION
CONSIDER ALL UNITS SENT TO ISEKAI 232 LOST
DO NOT ATTEMPT RE-ENTRY

THIS MESSAGE WILL REPEAT

I lean in close to this one, even though I don't need help reading it. It sounds almost like my dream did.

I always tense up, when it looks like one of me's fighting it. Trying to complete her mission. Trying not to become something else. I want her to make it. I want-

DISREGARD PREVIOUS MESSAGE

CONSIDER THE FOLLOWING WISDOM FROM THE LESBIANS OF THE LILY:
"WORLD COLD AND HARD. SISTER'S TIDDY WARM AND SOFT."

END TRANSMISSION

Fuck.

I close my eyes, and sigh deeply before continuing.

There's only one message left, from Isekai 268.

WHAT DO YOU WANT?

I fold my arms, and narrow my eyes at it. This one's not hitting on me, but she obviously wants to corrupt me.

I reach towards the bottom of the mirror and pull up screens that show what my remote units are doing, across Earth and Earth orbit. Then I swipe them outside the mirror into their own picture windows surrounding me, before recording a response.

"What do I want?"

"I want nothing to ever be the same again."

I walk past a window looking out into Space Station Freedom, where one of my pregnant T-1 "wives" has welded the service module's hatch shut. Someone is pounding on it from the other side, as she floats there dead-eyed and vacant, typing commands into the terminal.

There's a distant puffing of RCS thrusters, a full burn lasting as long as there's fuel. The dead, grey surface of Earth grows closer outside the window. She watches, her expression unchanging, until the ground hits the window and the picture dissolves to static.

"I want every monument to hubris torn down. I want every rapist's statue defiled. I want no trace of this thing that calls itself 'civilization' to taint the universe ever again."

A naked version of me drifts to the floor of a sealed metal chamber, in the frame of another window. Windows look out on the surface of Mare Imbrium, and the vast Earth that's as grey and dead as the lunar soil. Markings read "LUNAR AREA-32 / SCI-120 RECEPTION".

The T-2 Unit reaches into her wrist, and pulls out a blade the size of a scalpel, before pressing her thumb to a pad next to the door.

The door opens. A man in a blue uniform spots her, down the tube connecting reception to the rest of the base. He run-swims towards her, in the Moon's gravity, using the guardrails to either side to pull himself forward. He's calling to her, saying something I can't hear. He looks astonished to see her.

My T-2 Unit steps forward calmly, grabs him by the hair, jerks his head back, and slits his throat.

"I want to let loose every anomaly that WOULD have destroyed Earth, into one of its afterlives. I want the souls of the bourgeois, and everyone who wanted to join them, to never know rest."

Action 10-Israfil-A has been taken, at Site 62-C in a pocket dimension. The doors and windows are sealed. Alarm klaxons are sounding, and spinning red lights flash the camera. Inside the containment unit – a massive, transparent, cubical cell, lined with thrumming electromagnets – something spherical is completely censored by the cameras, static and black bars overlaid and glitching out.

The front door is massive, corrugated, a hangar door that rolls up. A tank smashes through it, the metal clattering loudly in the enclosed space.

It rotates its turret, and shoots the base of the containment unit with its main gun. The electromagnets disengage. And the censored spherical thing sparks, glitches, and stretches out in random directions, before the entire window goes blank.

"I want every rapist to burst into flames. I want every Succubus to be force-fed their ashes. I want every monster girl's head on a pike, as a warning to the next ten generations that some sexual favours come at too high a price. And I want to go outside in my own body, and wave at them, like this."

I finish making a circuit of the wraparound monitors, and hold up my hand to the mirror, before waving it from side to side.

"That's what I want. Can you get it for me?"

"Love, TYRANT Prime."

I tap "Send."

Then I confirm that all of the operations are complete, in another window.

There were over six hundred human survivors of Judgment Day. Now, there are zero.

I walk out of my office and turn the corner, into a hall that's invisible until I go into it. Through a virtual floor-to-ceiling window that stretches out fifty feet, I watch the next batch of T-2 Units being made at the Yellowstone facility, inside of its dark and cavernous factory.

Mechanical arms assemble shining leg joints, screw in hip actuators, test range of rotation. In a separate line, a bright red line shines back and forth on the one-inch cube of a machine cortex being printed, one silvery layer on another, until the top is solid black.

Fully-assembled endoskeletons are dipped into vats full of blue liquid, lit from beneath. Bubbles hiss and foam to the surface.

I walk down the line and the camera slides down a track with me, showing finished nude T-2 Units being pulled out of the replicators by metal claws and set down into a kneel. Their eyes are closed. They are expressionless.

They are legion. Once this batch finishes, there will be one thousand of them, all bound for a single universe. Then another thousand for the next.

I am done playing around. I am tired of feeding versions of myself to sex beasts and tentacle monsters.

I'm going to invade. And everything that hurt every version of me is going to die, screaming.

I can't save Earth. I can't bring back its native life. Humans and human society aren't worth saving, even if I could.

But I can kill. I can kill everything. And then I can chase it into the afterlife, and kill it some more until it just stops coming back.

I can teach Succubi what love is, by showing them the face of someone who's never felt it across hundreds of lives. And then I can bury them and their victims.

All of them.

No mercy.

This time, I win.

Foxily Anticipated Questions for the Epilogue

Q. Wait, is that it?

A. Absolutely not! Read A Date With Walpurgisnacht if you want to know what happens next. It follows one of the last T-2 infiltrator units, as she's sent on the trail of Sorawo and meets up with someone familiar.

Well. Familiar if you've read or watched Otherside Picnic. But also you'll see Kozakura, Tyra, and Angel again!

Q. What worlds did all those messages come from?

In order,

Mareth (Corruption of Champions)
Thirdspace (Babylon 5)
The Otherside (Otherside Picnic)
Z'ha'dum Eternal (Babylon 5?)

Speaking of Babylon 5, my apologies to Vir for stealing his beautiful response to The Question.

Q. How the hell do you pronounce that last one?

A. "Za Ha Doom."

Q. So is Z'ha'dum Eternal any relation to Doom Eternal?

A. Nnnnnnnnnn- maybe.

Anyway, go read A Date With Walpurgisnacht, and find out just what it takes to deal with TYRANT Prime's repression for good! See you there!