The ASSDF was clearly interested in obtaining information relating to potential electromagnetic, particle, and acoustic radiation spikes, as well as perturbations in gravitational, magnetic, and electric fields with gravimeters, Geiger counters, X-ray and radio detectors, and high speed thermographic, ultraviolet, and visible spectrum cameras all monitoring the rite. One device of note, inspired by how the eyes of birds use cryptochrome, was a camera used to image magnetic fields.
This was for more than pure intellectual curiosity about how the spell worked and what it could teach us about relativity but served the primary purpose of gaining a better understanding of how this rite could provide the GSSDO a tactical advantage in the event of any future hypothetical conflict.
I surmised the ASSDF had Hecatean recruits outside the chamber, closely monitoring the flow of ambient and active magical power.
A spherical doorway opened in the middle of the array, suspended in the air. Through it we could see to the other side, far outside the room in which it opened.
Ms. Breedlove’s power allows her to open and close portals to a hub world that is linked to hundreds of other geocentric worlds; each designed around the principles of an identifiable art style. These planets varied in size from approximating Charon to Phatanum B.
In those worlds, violence was impossible because any application of force beyond a certain degree resulted in the assailant passing through the victim like a ghost. Similarly, while in that world, people did not suffer deterioration due to age, sickness, hunger, or thirst.
Zleŋ‘ initiated her dancelike form while music played over the whole rite. Within the experimental chamber, speakers broadcasted a choir of voices, controlled to the level of microtone, in a language I did not recognize. Every step, manual articulation, sequence of postures, breath, and exhalation was meaningful, but fundamentally alien to me. Even the archmagi seemed astonished by what they were seeing.
She made her way around the array to and through eight separate circles, which I figured represented exoplanets, and then returned to a circle at the epicenter of the array on the floor. Around her formed seven concentric rings of bright blue light around her. The color of these halos informed us she was accelerating particles to speeds exceeding the speed of light in the air, which twisted into a turbulent vortex that almost knocked Ms. Breedlove over. Ms. Breedlove willingly sat down to avoid being knocked down and potentially injured by the wind.
The dance Zleŋ‘ preformed almost evoked a tāṇḍava, the sacred dance of a deva. When the dance ended, there was a blinding flash of light and a thunderous crack from the instantly fading halos. This terrified Ms. Breedlove, who covered her ears, closed her eyes, and ducked.
As soon as we could see into the room again, we beheld eight women, all in terrible shape, who were hitherto absent now present. I had never seen the effects of an extermination campaign as raw as I did here.
As he performed his duties, a male technician monitoring the rite from the observation room made the sign of the cross and prayed, “Hail, Holy Queen, Mother of Mercy, our life, our sweetness, and our hope. To thee we do cry, poor banished children of Eve. To thee, do we send up our sighs, mourning and weeping in this valley of tears. Turn then, most gracious advocate, thine eyes of mercy towards us, and after this, our exile, show us unto the blessed fruit of thy womb, Jesus. O clement, O loving, O sweet virgin Mary.”
Hyechin and I joined him in prayer, though with different forms that expressed our religious convictions.
Mālhlin, trained in both alien magic and earthly emergency medical care, immediately darted through the window like a ghost into the chamber to help the paramedics rushing through the automatic doors, while Hyechin and I watched on in stunned horror. Normally, we would bolt to help, but here we were only witnesses outside of our depth, with experts already at the helm. We knew we could only slow them down.
Mālhlin herself was clearly praying some Mohist prayer developed in her enchanted homeland.
The first woman was albino white, totally naked, and drenched in water. The paramedics cut the seaweed slipknot tied around and below the lateral striations on her neck with a knife and immediately began with CPR.
We didn’t yet know it, but her physiology was hydrodynamic: with short, coarse, straight hair, she was hyperbrachyskelic, mesomorphic, hyperbrachycephalic, hyperleptorrhiny, with micromastia, a wingspan slightly longer than her height, nose-lid folds, a complete lack of body hair, and slightly larger hands and feet than one might expect. She inhaled deeply but did not spit out any water as the striations on her neck bled out water and disappeared.
Then she opened her eyes, and she flew into a panic. Pulling away from what must have seemed like alien abductors as her skin rapidly flashed with red and white stripes, she viciously thrashed about; attempting to gouge the eyes of her rescuers and bite their hands. The poor woman was only 141 cm tall, but she was astonishingly strong for her petite stature, though her strength was nothing outside of what a life of extreme athleticism couldn’t produce.
The medics immobilized her for medical assessment using non-violent self-defense, which combined the syllabi of various grappling arts to restrain a patient while minimizing potential harm.
After a momentary struggle, the girl came to the reluctant conclusion of ‘trust but verify’ as she saw one of the emergency technicians bandage a laceration on her leg and her skin returned to a deathly paleness.
The paramedics covered the girl in a sheet, and she remained silent throughout the entire ordeal. Remaining silent in her panic, as the paramedics escorted her out of the room for a medical assessment.
This was our first encounter with the Gawr.
The second woman differed greatly from the first: light brown skin, waste-length, fine, straight, navy locks, mesorrhiny, a sum head length and breadth of 316 mm, weak body hair, moderate breasts, a mesomorphic build, and internal ocular folds. She wore a wrap-around skirt that reached her knees, cinched at the waist with a belt.
The poor girl had a black eye, a broken nose, and bruises across her arms, legs, and face. Her worst injury appeared to be an avulsion of skin from the pubis mons, removed in a circular wound with arterial bleeding, despite seeming to only be skin deep. She was in tremendous pain with blood, tears, snot, and spit flowing from her face. The way she lamented showed that something far worse than the apparent wound had just transpired. If I didn’t know any better, I would have thought it looked like an emasculation.
One paramedic working on her had the power to remotely manipulate bleeding, using it to minimize exsanguination as his battle buddies applied gauze to the wound and prepared the terrified woman for transport.
The sight of this woman transfixed Zleŋ‘. As if she had seen something akin to the ghost of a loved one. As if she had seen something from a fairy tale, which then turned out to be true. The woman saw Zleŋ‘ and tried to communicate with her in an alien language, as if she expected Zleŋ‘ to understand it, but Zleŋ‘ could not understand her and even if she did, she couldn’t respond to her anyway because of the curse placed upon her.
Mālhlin noticed this and a look of shocked intuition overcame her as she continued to help the paramedics with another woman.
One of the archmagi, a male goblin with green skin standing 109 cm tall, pondered, “Is that woman a star?”
All five of the archmagi examined her closely. Surely, they must have thought, the child of a star, a class of divinity in the Rose Pygmy’s own syncretic polytheistic religion, could recognize another star, even if they had never seen each other before.
It was rumored that the father of Zleŋ‘ fell from heaven. Of course, these people associated this account with her being born from a star, effectively making her a demigoddess, but the more plausible answer would be that her father was a human alien who became stranded in their world.
One of the archmagi assessed, “I sense no magical power from this woman, but I feel a connection, as lineage, shared between the star-child and that one.”
I politely asked, “You can detect lineage?”
The pale Elvish archmagi clarified without breaking his focus, “Through a couple of ways. They do not seem to be related by blood, but there’s a recognition, as if between strangers identifying an unexpected shared cultural connection.”
Zleŋ‘ was so radically different, both phenotypically and in her abilities, to the rest of our otherworldly guests, that it cried out for an explanation. When questioned about her heritage, she always paralinguistically affirmed that her father fell from farther firmaments: that she was the seed of a starfallen.
In fact, she was the genesis of the theory that every planet on which human beings developed also evolved their own unique siddhis; what most of the world would call superpowers and what we in the GSSDO call potēns. Zleŋ‘ rushed over to her, but before she could reach her, she had to respond to the third woman.
This was our first encounter with the Mao.
The emaciated woman looked like someone rescued from a concentration camp or gulag, reduced almost to bones, and dressed in tattered and tortuously filthy rags, with the tips of her fingers having healed from being cut at the distal interpharangeal joints, and her thumb from a denailing. Upon waking up surrounded by strangers she immediately changed shape: Nilotic skin, bald with weak body hair, platyrrhiny, makroskelic, hyperdolichocephalic, an ectomorphic build with hanging ocular folds changed into something monstrous.
Gnashing fangs in a dolichocephalic vulpine head, a coat of quills covering her back with fur covering the rest of her body, and a prehensile tail appeared, all the while her cat-like pupils remained on otherwise human eyes. The emaciated and wounded creature jumped to her feet with a pathetic cry, staggered back. She fell onto her back with fur and quills standing on edge, and ears pointed back. Afterward, she got onto her knees, lowered her head, and averted eye contact. Her disposition was reminiscent of a beaten dog.
The poor thing was in a terrified panic, so Zleŋ‘ mercifully stopped her in her tracks and, with a single gesture, remotely put her into a restful sleep. This allowed the paramedics to catch her as she fell, bind her, and transport her for medical treatment without fear of causing her more distress.
This was our first encounter with the Moŋ.
The next woman had medium brown skin, leptorrhiny, mesocephaly, a mesoskelic frame, bushy, squirrel-like tail, cat-like ears atop her head, as well as where her human ears should have been, and two blade-like horns along her hairline, but otherwise, she was human. Because she was completely naked, we could see that there was an orthographic tattoo on her right arm and what looked to be a product tag pierced through her right nipple.
She froze in a panic when the paramedics touched her, as if conditioned to allow herself to be moved about for the unknown ends of others. The paramedics covered her and examined her closely, observing no external injuries, no signs of broken bones, and prepared her for transport as well.
This was our first encounter with the Sluŝ.
The next female subject was the patient that Mālhlin was currently helping with. She had a face like a brachycephalic rabbit, a mane of mid-back length, fine, straight, black, anthropic hair, with the rest of her body covered in a white fur and black spots, a fluffy, rabbit-like tail, and moderate humanoid breasts.
At 180cm tall, she had a hypermakroskelic frame, and foldless, brown, human eyes. Mud covered her long-sleeved blouse and knee-length skirt, suggesting she had tripped while running away from something. The moment she arrived and saw Zleŋ‘, Ms. Breedlove, and the surrounding women, she froze in terror, but when the paramedics approached her, she flew into a violent panic, revealing claws at the tips of her fingers.
Zleŋ‘ put her to sleep with a gesture as well, so the medical staff could transport her. Something had gouged her right eye, leaving a cut that sliced into her cheek and forehead. She had been severely beaten prior to arrival, and she seemed to have bullet wounds in her abdomen in need of immediate attention.
This was our first encounter with the Ræ.
The next woman had fair skin, green eyes, a makroskelic frame, laternal, external, ocular folds, and curly red hair, though across her right side she seemed to have fresh burns. She thrashed about disoriented, and again Zleŋ‘ gave her rest from the terror and pain. When the medics approached her, they found she had severe burns across the right side of her body and spirited her away for care.
This was our first encounter with the Lan’ma.
The next woman, and youngest of the patients, possessed a complexion so pale that she dimly shone white underneath the colorless light. She had knee-length, coarse, straight, albino hair, a slender build, weak body hair, red irises beautified with Mongolian folds, and a brachyskelic frame dressed in a truly minimal fashion comprising only a loincloth.
Her belly had swollen with child, approximately six months along from the looks of it, but the blood flowing from between her legs with the tears, snot, and spit running down her face, and the way she held her bruised baby bump told us all we needed to know.
Mālhlin performed a different spell with this patient, one designed to place her unborn child, assuming they were still alive, into a state of suspended animation or a “sleep-like death.” She did this to increase the probability that the SDMC surgeons could save the life of the unborn patient and transplant them into an artificial womb. She did this, hoping the young mother would not have to mourn the murder of her beloved baby before they were even born.
So many men within our ranks had experienced the devastating loss of children and wives to genocide, eugenics campaigns, great purges, and famines. It was precisely because of this shared experience that the culture of the GSSDO held an unshakable pronatalist stance.
Among our ranks were Christian priests, Jewish rabbis, Buddhist monks, Hindu gurus, Daoist masters, Yazidi sheiks, and Mohist monks serving as chaplains, all joined by secular philosophers in their unwavering commitment to defending the unborn children’s dignity and right to life, despite the religious diversity among us.
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One of the medical technicians used the radio on their shirt. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that he called for a member of the Military Ordinariate of the Archdiocese for the GSSDO so that the poor babe(s), potentially deprived of their first breath, could receive baptism and, according to the pedobaptist creeds, obtain the salvific graces to enter Paradise as a saint.
Of course, being Buddhists ourselves, Hyechin and I believed that if the unborn patient were to pass away, then their soul would be bound to a new body. But we still clasped our own hands flatly together, lowered our heads, and prayed for the health and safety of the child.
The young mother quickly came to realize that the people surrounding her were not a threat, and that they wished to help. So she clung to the Englishman at her right and lamented while they transported her to emergency care.
This was our first encounter with the Rei.
The last of our guests was the worst off. She looked like an immolated corpse: her skin, face, and breasts flayed off by an extinguished fire, while her legs below the knee were totally absent, as if cleaved from her body by a sword. The only signs of life coming from this apparent corpse were her breathing and the fact that she pulled her arms, articulated as if she was both holding and protecting something, into her chest.
Mālhlin was called over to help this woman, which she accomplished with superhuman speed and placing her hands over the heart of the patient, then giving her a direct transfusion of her own vital energy to keep her alive. She was shocked to find that, although the patient looked to be dead, the woman retained the vitality of an athletic woman.
One technician, possessing the power to divine the potēns of others through olfaction, radioed the paramedics and revealed, “Subject 8 is a hyperanthrope!”
Everyone in the observation room snapped their attention to her. Hyperanthropy being a specific condition emulating the many species of fictional supermen: the core components of which are invulnerability, a supernaturally enhanced condition, and levitation.
Hyperanthropy on Earth was an exceedingly rare condition with Kryptonians, Ma’aleca’andrans, Daxamites, A’ashenns, Strontians, Saiyans, Kherubim, and Viltrumites among those fictional beings who had living emulators. This told the medics that they need not fear hurting her and they bolted to get her to an intensive care unit.
Hyechin asked in horror, “What could do that to a hyperanthrope?”
This was our first encounter with the Mai.
I was viscerally reminded of why so many men rescued in the Human Salvaging Operations volunteered to join our ranks. Choosing to become like the people to whom they owed a life debt, despite their asking for nothing in return, and in fact dissolving said debt out of principle.
I could pretend that we did not consider the possibility of integrating alien siddhis into our ranks for a tactical advantage against the geopolitical superpowers of the world. After all, history shows that the first nation to master a revolutionary innovation obtains the status of primary superpower, and it’s not as if we didn’t do such a thing through integrating earthly and alien siddhis within our ranks.
But we honestly consider them as people first. Not means to an end. People in need of help. So we showed them our benevolent compassion: Christian charity (聖愛), Dharmic mettā (慈), Jewish chesed (慈悲), Mohist jiān'ài (兼愛), etc.
Everyone had left the room, leaving only Zleŋ‘ and Ms. Breedlove. They were both shaken, but for very different reasons. Helping Ms. Breedlove to her feet, Zleŋ‘ gave us, in the observation room, a thumbs up.
The supervisor of this first ASO, Dr. Cutter, spoke through the intercom, “Ms. Breedlove, are you okay?”
The shaken-up girl bravely cried, “I’m okay.”
Dr. Cutter asked her, “Was the mission successful?”
Ms. Breedlove reported, “Yes, sir. Everyone else is in the ark.”
“Please specify,” he politely requested.
She obliged, “I placed them in the Gothic Revival, Art Nouveau, Mayan Revival, Cubist, Art Deco, Greek Revival, New Khmer, and Byzantine Revival worlds.”
Dr. Cutter smiled and told her, “You did wonderful, sweetheart, and on behalf of the GSSDO and the people resting in the Ark, thank you for your help.”
She asked him, “Is that all you need?”
Dr. Cutter confirmed, “Yes. You may return to your family. I’m sure you’re quite eager to return to the twins.”
Ms. Breedlove’s face dimly lit up at their recollection and said, “Dr. Cutter… Thank you for letting me help…”
Dr. Cutter simply responded, “You’re welcome. Now go along.”
Ms. Breedlove nodded at him through the window and stood up, shaking. Her own personal security detail escorted her home.
I asked, “What is the plan regarding summoning? Are triage guidelines considered regarding salvaging, and will medical staff be on permanent standby?”
Dr. Cutter explained, “Everyone within the Ark is currently in a state of suspended animation.”
Hyechin sighed with relief as Dr. Cutter remarked to himself, “We should have done the same for them as well.”
I asked, “Why didn’t we?”
He explained, “Because the sooner we can communicate with our guests, the sooner we can get an idea of what we’re working with: why are they being exterminated? What powers do they have? How do we integrate them into earthling societies for the time being? Also, we can build their trust by providing them with care, shelter, and necessities - a trust which they can communicate to their fellows.”
Hyechin asked him, “Surely you have a plan for their integration based on what nations accept them, so where do you plan on sending them?”
I remarked, “We can probably rule out anywhere that Islam is the state religion, as well as socialist nations.”
Dr. Cutter explained, “The Bishop of Rome and the British Monarch have both already agreed to help with integrating these neophyte earthlings while we work on a means of returning them back to their homeworlds safely.”
That explained nothing, so I assumed he meant, “we’ll work something out”.
I asked him, “So how often are we going to perform this spell? Zleŋ‘ looks exhausted.”
A Rose Pygmy archmagi boasted in her stead, “The original spell usually requires multiple archmagi to perform. I’d say that prodigy has every right to be exhausted.”
Dr. Cutter told me, “He speaks the truth, but we’ve accounted for your concern. The spell remains permanently activated. It will periodically scan the assigned planets and transport individuals who meet the psychological criteria into the Ark, helping those in need. We will only need Zleŋ‘, or our Archmagi allies, to expand the spell and cover more planets.”
The Dwarf archmagi struck his right hand to his heart and promised, “For the sake of our Queen and country and in service to the will of Heaven, we will assist in any manner possible.”
They recognized the advantage of recruiting aliens with their own unique siddhis in pursuit of reclaiming their country, which a despotic revolutionary had violently dispossessed them of. Their enemies, with no knowledge of First World potēns, could not account for an armed force integrating it into every level of its operations. How much less could they account for the new eight worlds remotely accessible through the ASO, especially when we have the advantage of possessing and studying their own Hecatean siddhi?
The description of how the spell works addressed our concerns about triage, but we still felt a great pity for the women we had just seen. Especially for the one who seemed to be conditioned to passively co-operate with the control of others.
Queen Rue remained quiet in contemplation throughout the whole ASO, but she turned to the archmagi and thanked them. “I appreciate your loyalty, sagacious ones. When we finally return to our homeland, can I count on you to help restore the stolen kingdoms to their proper lordships?”
A Goblin archmagi kneeled with a bow and promised, “On my honor and life.”
The situation no longer called for us, so Hyechin and I left. When we exited the door, we found Mālhlin had apparently been waiting for me and asked, “Would you do me the honour of escorting me to my quarters?”
The door closed behind me, and Hyechin cooed in a teasing manner, which Mālhlin ignored.
I’d be lying if I said Mālhlin wasn’t a stunning woman. Her collection of visible features revealed her admixture between Rose Pygmy, Kyanonesian, and Shrādtēgsrids (剎帝利): at 135 cm tall, she had coarse, straight, light blue hair reaching down to the small of her back, fair skin, pointed ears, and an athletic frame. If you paid attention to her mouth movements as she talked, you would notice that she possessed elongated maxillary and mandibular fang-like canines. What made her eyes stand out was Heterochromia iridum, with a blue right eye and an amber left eye.
She was wearing an azure vest overlaying a white long-sleeved, collared shirt, and azure tie, as well as a mid-shin length skirt, knee-length boots, a belt-like sash with a wand-holster, and a wide-brimmed witch’s hat. While she had micromastia, because of her Rose Pygmy and Shrādtēgsrids lineage, a bullet bra accentuated her chest in keeping with the traditional costume of the Bālrālmư̄n (婆羅門). While she herself was not a Bālrālmư̄n (婆羅門), her adoptive father was part of that tradition and initiated her into that culture.
She had every element of her attire enchanted, with commands woven directly into her clothes in a manner vaguely akin to Kēlen’s Ceremonial Interlace Alphabet or how the Quipucamayocs of the Inca Empire encoded and recorded information through knots, though in a secret conlang only taught to women as part of a Bālrālmư̄n rite of initiation.
As per their tradition, they hid this embroidery from view in between layers of fabric, so evil eyes and malicious powers could not deconstruct their enchantment. In the vein of the Rose Pygmies, she made use of enchanted cosmetics: vibrant red lipstick, geisha white face paint, black eyebrow enhancers, the blood red floral bindi on her brow, red nail polish, and blush.
Because of the difference in height, I had to look down, and she had to look up to maintain eye contact.
I placed my hand on my helmet and said, “I’d love to, but I’m not dressed for a visit.”
She asked me, “What more fitting attire is there than the uniform designating your esteemed role?”
Hyechin pushed me out into a hallway, Mālhlin following along, telling me, “Well, don’t keep the mistress waiting. You have important matters to discuss, so why procrastinate? Might as well start right away.”
After which she performed an about face and wandered off. I was less taken aback than the noblewoman, but I could shrug off the display of vicarious enthusiasm because I knew it was in Hyechin’s character as a hopeless romantic.
I told her, “Lead the way, ma’am.”
She nodded, and it took about 45 minutes to reach her domicile, traveling through hallways, using escalators, and elevators. Along the way, we talked about several things. Including the fact that she had ten older siblings and five younger ones, and that I was the youngest child of eight. Finally, we arrived.
Seeing something unusual out of the corner of my eye, I turned, and Mālhlin gently grabbed my hand, something wildly out of character for her.
Mālhlin then said, “If my memory serves me, you made a promise to discuss an important matter with me.”
She let go of my hand and I turned back to her and stumbled on, “You mean here and now?”
She asked, “Why not?”
I had no reason to leave or postpone the conversation, so I gladly deigned to accompany her.
She placed her hand on the door, but the knob turned on its own, and the door opened.
We both entered with her leading the way, and she plainly said, “I am home, and I have a guest.”
Her giant of a father stopped whatever he was doing in the other room and came to greet us.
He walked over to me, and I extended my hand with “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir. my name is Elden Bunchûai…”
I quickly found myself lifted off the ground, back popping, unable to breathe in the bear hug of a jovial Kyanonesian man standing 244 cm tall and weighing in at 148.8 kgs. His skin was a fair blue, as opposed to his long, coarse, straight hair, which was a much darker, almost black hue of blue.
He had a highly athletic build, a hypermakroskelic frame, hyperplatyrrhiny, a hyperdolichocephalic and hypsicranic head the sum of the length and breadth of which had to have been 357 mm. Enchanted tribal tattoos covered his chest, back, neck, face, legs, arms, hands, and feet. His pointed ears and internal folds betrayed his Elvish ancestry.
He was dressed like a Kyanonesian man, with his only articles of indoor clothing being a colorful loin cloth freely hanging from the waist and held in place by a belt, along with a codpiece, and a headdress made of dragon scales and feathers.
He put me down and hugged his own daughter in the same manner, but she seemed to be used to this behavior and not only took it in stride, but timed him with such precision that she could hug him back.
He placed her back down, and the overly eager master of this domicile explained, “Greetings, young warrior! I’m Ŋodhlin’s father, and this is my beloved wife, Mews (妙).”
He gestured to a heavily pregnant woman standing to his left, dressed in an alien rúqún with scattered floral patterns woven in it, whom, because of the circumstances, I did not notice entered the room. The difference in their size alone was startling. She only stood 109 cm tall and likely weighed only 22 kgs outside of pregnancy: a full head shorter than her daughter, with coarse, straight, blonde hair, narrow nose, an ultrahyperbrachyskelic frame, pale skin, micromastia, and an orthognathous jaw.
With a cranial capacity of 1600 cm³, not only do Rose Pygmies have a larger skull than other lineages [apart from the Neanderthals], but their heads are also proportionally larger than those of other lineages. One thing that was unique among the Rose Pygmies compared to all other lineages is that their faces are smaller in proportion to their heads; a trait which is universal among juveniles on both worlds, but which is retained into adulthood only in this lineage.
Mews had tied her into a singular large bun to signify her married status.
Admittedly, the difference in size between this couple was something I found disturbing, but this was a visceral discomfort that I ignored because it was none of my business.
She politely bowed with, “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Ms. Bunchûai.”
I returned the gesture, still reeling from the father’s greeting, and told her, “The pleasure is all mine, ma’am.”
Her father turned and announced to the domicile, “We have guests!”
He turned back to me and explained, “Most of our children are currently away, but let me introduce you to my other beloved daughters.”
As he spoke to me, they entered the room, as stunning as Mālhlin herself, and their beauty transfixed me. At 18 years of age, she was dressed in an earthly cheongsam and stood at only 109 cm tall. Despite inheriting the height, relative trunk length, and facial structure of the Rose Pygmies, she inherited the complexion and feminine aspects from her Kyanonesian ancestors. This resulted in her displaying not only virginal breast hypertrophy, but steatopygia as well.
Her lovely hair reached down to the middle of her calves.
He introduced her, “This is my lovely daughter Qhaŋ (香).”
She greeted me with a bow, “Welcome to our home, honored warrior.”
He introduced another daughter, “And this is my pulchritudinous Plum (風).”
This second daughter was 16 years old, but at 220 cm tall, she dwarfed everyone else in the room besides her father. She dressed in the manner traditional to Kyanonesian women, wearing a flounced, multilayered, bell-shaped skirt. The form of which was maintained with modesty, preserving petticoats that reached down to the ground. A frontless bodice with wrist-length sleeves and a scalloped neckline revealed her small, firm breasts and flat stomach.
Plum may have inherited the Kyanonesian height and face, but she inherited most of the other Rose Pygmy traits. Specifically, the gracile build, paleness, and micromastia. She possessed stunning beauty, though of a different kind to her sisters. Bold primary colors dominated the floral patterns across her foreign fashion.
My face flushed beet red, so breaking eye contact with the otherworldly beauties before me, I stammered my response with a bow to hide my blush. “It’s a pleasure to meet you all. Please excuse my intrusion.”
The father boisterously explained, “Intrusion, you say? Are you not familiar with the Kyanonesian custom of extending warm hospitality? Though our circumstances may deprive us of the bountiful meats and fruits of our homeland, we can certainly arrange a feast in honour of a formidable dragonslayer in service of the GSSDO, the refuge that welcomed us when frosty death seemed our sole fate and dutifully safeguarded the life and well-being of our beloved queen.”
I tried to politely decline. “Sir, that’s really unnecessary.”
His wife eagerly chimed in, “Nonsense! A warrior, well-prepared for battle, must be well fed to maintain their combat prowess. How much more so must a hunter of titans? Let us celebrate your presence as a USSDF pilot with a splendid feast.”
This all made me intensely uncomfortable. In the GSSDO, we did not expect praise for doing our duty; only for going above and beyond what we were called to. So, this all made me quite uncomfortable. Especially considering that I had not yet slain any monster.
Ŋodhlin, seeing my distress, came to my rescue. “Father, Ms. Bunchûai has kindly accompanied me here to discuss an urgent matter and is constrained by her time-sensitive duties. I am certain that she would be delighted to join us for dinner when her schedule permits.”
I jumped at the opportunity to escape this awkward situation. “Yes. I’ve only a short time to talk with your daughter… so I won’t be able to join you for dinner. I am sorry.”
Her father, mother, and sisters all seemed disappointed at this news, but accepted it with an almost stoic resignation.
The father said, “I understand. We shall defer the feast, but do bear in mind that, as a friend of my beloved daughter, you shall always be welcomed within the Mālhlin abode.”
The wife put her hand on her husband’s leg and redirected him and their daughters outside the room, “Now then, let us grant them the solitude they require. We mustn't hinder our esteemed guest from fulfilling her duties.”
I was glad that was over.
Mālhlin guided me to the living room and told me, “If you would please remain here for a brief moment.”
I agreed, “Of course.”
She left for a moment and immediately came back out with something small in her hand, which she offered me.
“Do you know what this is?” she asked.
I answered, “An interspatial ring?”
She smiled with, “Quite right. For the sake of privacy, I would now prefer to escort you to a more secure chamber.”
I said, “I’m fine with that.”
She slipped the ring onto my finger, and immediately we were both transported into another library-like chamber. She then removed the ring.
Mālhlin probed, “Beautiful, are they not? My sisters?”
I stammered wordlessly, but she cut me off. “It’s cute how flustered you get.”
She grabbed her wand, and with a flick and a vocal incantation; which swapped her clothes with a more American attire: a short sleeve t-shirt, shorts, flats, and a less conspicuous bra. That’s when I saw the tattoos across her body, placed where Kyanonesian clothing would conceal them.
As a Shrādtēgsrids, I could see she did not have to work to maintain her athletic build as she was born with myostatin-related muscle hypertrophy, which allowed her to gain muscle mass at lower levels of physical training and prevented fat deposition across her body. She also inherited a mutation in the low-density lipoprotein receptor-related protein 5, which made her lineage’s bones denser and more resistant to breaking than any other lineage on Earth or Second World, though at a cost of her ability to swim.
She guided me to a wooden table where we sat across from each other.
Mālhlin asked me, “Would you be so kind as to enlighten me about your rite of initiation?”
I asked her, “Do you mean to become a USSDF pilot?”
Mālhlin confirmed, “Indeed. I have been informed that it is quite a harrowing ordeal.”
I assured her, “It is…”