Xena strode back into the hive, the two filthy stains of humanity clamped in her massive hands. They thrashed weakly, but neither had the strength left to break free. Shitstain was spent, no brute rating to save her. Garbage-lord was just a pathetic mongrel without his trash golem. Two drones greeted her at the threshold, each cradling an ovomorph for the new capes. The scent of fresh hosts hit the eggs like a trigger. They bloomed open, tan chitin splitting to reveal the writhing facehuggers inside.
The nightmare fuel that emerged sent her two captives into full panic. Tan chitin crawled out of the ovomorphs. Legs were bony and finger-like. No beady spider eyes. Just a far-too-large creepy-crawly that triggered every primal alarm in their human brains. Xena watched. She felt the mouthparts reminded her of a fleshlight. One day she might even try one that way. Granted she would need a smaller form than her queenly one. She doubted the tiny orifice could take her enlarged cock. Even a succubus struggled with it.
In the end, Adamina Mustain and the man once known as Mush both had a facehugger latch onto their heads. The creatures silenced their desperate cries for help in seconds. Their struggles ceased. Xena handed the limp bodies off to the same drones that had brought the ovomorphs. She made a mental note to deal with the two once her babies finished gestating. No sense wasting perfectly good power-ups, even if it meant tasting them later. “Actually, can you girls wash these two first before you restrain them? I’d rather not taste their foul bodies when the time comes.” The two drones nodded and dragged the Merchant capes away. Xena stared at her own hands. “Like taking out the trash. Ugh.” She grimaced and headed off to find a place to wash the filth off without spreading it further.
-X-X-X-
One by one, drug dens fell. Not for the narcotics, the cash, or the weapons. Only for the people inside, living there or stashed away. Hookers vanished from street corners and alleyways, dragged off alongside their pimps. Sewers and shadowed alleys became perfect routes. The nimble xenomorphs slipped through unseen, hunting down the remnants of the Merchants’ loose junkie-ring. They had never been a real gang. Not yet. They wouldn’t turn into one until Leviathan hit the Bay. By then they would already be subsumed, folded into Xena’s hive. All the males would get the facehugger treatment. The females would become seedbeds for her and her clones.
It was easy enough to find the Merchants, though Xena was sure she had scooped up a fair number of false positives. Her search criteria were broad. Not every drug addict, whore, or homeless person was affiliated with them, but she didn’t care. Yes, she saw the obvious comparison to Lung. Both kidnapped women and forced them into sex work. The big difference was that the women under Xena’s control would actually live better lives than those under the false dragon’s. And hell, Xena even gave her people work benefits. Free housing. Free top-tier medical care. Even a daycare service for their pre-existing children.
The only people truly losing out were the men. Luckily very few of them had families that depended on them. The handful who did presented an extra headache: what to do with any male children left dependent on the women she had taken. Those boys would eventually become men, and men were not allowed in her hive unless they were getting facehugged. She could always just kill them off. But that felt too… monstrous, even for her. That would be something Lustrum would do, hiding behind an “all boys become rapists” excuse. A true fem-Nazi action. It didn’t sit right with Xena. Not because she was some defender of men. She parasitized every male who entered her hive without hesitation.
No, it was because she refused to be boxed into that ideology. Xena hated being shoved into neat little assumptions about how she thought. It reminded her of the before, back when she admitted to liking futanari porn. People immediately assumed she liked it strictly for the cock. She didn’t. To her it was just a realistic strap-on with the added bonus of being able to make MILFs. She hated lesbian porn. Trans porn in her time was literally just guys with tits because the technology wasn’t there yet. Even hetero porn always focused too much on the guy. But futanari, Xena always wanted to be one. And now she was.
Xena didn’t sit on her tail waiting for the Merchants to be rounded up. No. She finally turned her attention back to what she had been doing before Skidmark interrupted. She walked into the computer room in her smaller form. Crawling through hallways no longer appealed to her. “Rebecca, has Simmy made any moves? Oh, Lisa, you’re here too?” Xena froze mid-step. A less bloated Rebecca sat beside the teenage blonde cape. They appeared to be browsing PHO. Lisa’s eyes widened. Rebecca, seeing the reaction, facepalmed. “God damn it, Xena! Lisa is not a retard, unlike you.” Xena frowned at the cum-bloated gremlin and tilted her head. “Uuugh. Of course you don’t understand.” The cyan shortstack lamented into her hands.
Lisa gaped at Xena. Her finger shook as she pointed it straight at the Queen. “YOU! You’re… you’re planning on fucking the Sim-Bird!”
The blonde Asian shapeshifting bimbo bounced lightly on her toes, shifting her weight with a carefree shrug and throwing her arms wide. “Well, yeah? What’s a better weapon against an Endbringer than another Endbringer? With her by my side, Leviathan is a roasted fish ripe for eating.”
Xena jutted her head forward and gave a small shake. Her logic was obviously flawless. She genuinely wondered what the problem could possibly be.
Rebecca tried to peel her own face off with both hands and let out a long, agonized, frustrated sigh. “Xena, you cow! Lisa is a cape who hasn’t been given your blind spot.”
The blonde teen whipped toward the gremlin, mouth still hanging open in shock. “Wait! No! Bu-that means-” Lisa clutched her head in horror. “Dear god. She knows now. She knows!”
It was as if a lightbulb finally flickered on in Xena’s head. As if her two brain cells had finally collided and sparked recognition of what the two women were talking about.
“Ooooh… Fuck.” Xena’s eyes widened. She rushed to the computer and shoved the two women aside. Rebecca’s chair rolled across the floor. Lisa wasn’t so lucky with her flimsy fold-out aluminum one. Her arms flailed as she toppled over.
Despite normally being a dumb bimbo bitch, Xena had her moments. Even a broken clock is right twice a day. Lisa stumbled back to her feet, eyes locked on Xena’s fingers flying across the keyboard. Rebecca’s lips curled into a pleased smile as she too focused on the screen.
Tabs and windows flashed by. Xena pulled up satellite imaging and Simurgh tracking forums. When she finished, a crisp image filled the monitor: a white blob floating off China’s coast. Xena stood up with a satisfied huff.
“Well, let’s see who’s faster, shall we?” She glanced at Lisa. The girl looked between the desktop and Xena.
Rebecca grinned like a loon and tossed a sat phone which Xena caught and stored in her inventory. The action was far too brief and out of Lisa’s line of sight for the girl to leak it. “ Are you ready? Get set! GO!”
Xena turned intangible. The moment she did, the white blob on the screen accelerated. With a grin she shot through the roof of the hive and rocketed toward the Simurgh’s last known location.
The city shrank behind her as she rocketed west. Colors blurred together. Grey of the city gave way to green of the wilds, then white of the Appalachian peaks. As elevation climbed, brown and tan took over until only white remained: the Rockies.
The combination of power usage and raw momentum meant she had a throbbing erection within thirty minutes of flight. It demanded immediate attention. She didn’t stop. She stroked herself vigorously. She was sure many civilians below would spend the rest of their day wondering what the hell was falling from the sky.
Clouds drifted lazily high above. Xena watched them pass. She flew straight through one and the world vanished. Nothing but white. A commercial airliner crossed her path. At her speed she caught only a split-second glimpse of passengers and seats before it vanished behind her.
The peak fell away. Browns and tans of the West Coast rushed up to meet her. Finally the Great Blue of the Pacific opened ahead. Xena flew straight toward her goal. From this distance the ocean looked too calm. Too perfect. Fake. As if someone had tiled a video-game water texture across the horizon ad nauseam.
It was then that the flight turned truly boring. The vast, diverse landscape of America had bled away into a single blue blob. The same thing, forever. Occasional interesting bits broke the monotony. She glimpsed Hawaii in the distance, then lost it as she pushed farther west. But the Pacific was mostly endless sameness. It reminded Xena of that America song, “A Horse with No Name.” The ocean was a desert.
Spotting Hawaii told Xena she was slightly off course. At her current speed, the correction had to be gradual. A sharp turn would have been impossible. Past 932 mph she behaved like a rocket and Xena had been in constant burn since leaving Brockton Bay. That made turning or slowing down far more difficult.
But Xena still pushed herself. She had to get that psychic chicken.
Miles and miles of ocean fell behind her. In the distance, clouds drifted lazily. Farther off, a storm churned part of the horizon into foreboding dark grey. It helped break up the monotony.
She spotted another island ahead. Perhaps Midway. If so, she was on track. It also meant she should start prepping for the inevitable.
Xena began shifting back to her queen form mid-flight. She stored her clothes in her inventory and pulled out the sat-phone Rebecca had given her. Right now it wasn’t working. That changed the instant she turned tangible again.
The gremlin was a whiz at not-tinkertech. While Xena moved too fast for live video of her path to the Simurgh, Rebecca had built in a simple color system to keep her on course. Bright neon pink meant she was right on track. Black meant she was wildly off target. Right now she was getting a fairly bright pink.
She adjusted slightly. The display snapped to full neon. She would have to make many more corrections over the next few hours. The Simurgh knew she was coming and was trying her damnedest to flee. She wouldn’t get far. She couldn’t escape Xena’s talons. The xenomorph queen was going to have her yin-yang-themed orgy, and the damned bird-brain was a required piece.
She pushed on. Xena spotted an island chain, random peaks rising from the water. She wasn’t great with geography, but she didn’t recall anything like that in the Pacific. The sat-phone said she was on course, yet she’d expected to see Japan by now. Then it clicked. “Ooooh! That’s Kyushu!”
It really drove home the scale of the Endbringers’ damage on Earth-Bet. Kyushu wasn’t a small island. It was nearly twice the size of the entire Hawaiian chain and almost half the size of Ireland. In her old world, by 2011, 13.2 million Japanese people had called it home. Now? A few thousand at most. The desperate few clung to the peaks, trying to keep some semblance of normality. How else would anyone react to a literal kaiju destroying their island like a smaller, more focused Godzilla?
She sighed. Xena could she was losing focus. The flight was wearing on her. Luckily, Xena was getting closer. Just a few hundred miles left. She spotted a fighter jet trying to catch up. Its triangle shape shrank in the distance. She was simply too fast for it.
She ignored it and kept going. As Kyushu fell away behind her and the Japanese fighter faded into the dust, she began to decelerate.
Finally, she saw the horizon dotted with spires. She knew she had made it. It was also when she spotted more jet fighters approaching that she realized.
“Looks like they’re expecting me. Gonna have to keep breaking the speed limit till I pounce on the bird!”
The Chinese fighters could shoot all they wanted. As long as she maintained her speed, they could do nothing to her except maybe annoy her.
Xena saw trails racing toward her. Silver streams tried to paint her with lead. Both struck the invisible field that surrounded her at this velocity. The rounds spalled harmlessly against it and slid off like water from a duck’s back. Missiles did no more harm than momentarily blocking her view.
She glanced at her sat-phone again and pushed slightly harder to bring the display back to full neon. Xena was getting closer. The Simurgh’s movements were becoming far harder to adjust to at her current speed. She had to decelerate to a more manageable 124 mph if she wanted to reach her true combat speed.
A/N
Feel free to leave a comment on what you like or dislike about my work, I read them all! If you want to read the next chapter or just want to pay for my Monster addiction, become a patron! Do note that due to the site rules All of the pre-release chapters are held on my discord so you will have to connect your discord with your Patron account. Under the name of: ToasterForkerAnonymous
