Push, Mum!

Oh god, that looks horrible. I never want kids.

…

There, it’s out!

Wait, she’s still going? How big are raccoon litters?

--Elise’s mind during her siblings’ births, 2031

There are a few options. Would you like a cheaper one-time solution, or another mutation that can address situations like these?

I silently consider the choice, absentmindedly rubbing my brothers’ bellies as they puff happily on their shoulder perches that Sim has widened to make more comfortable.

“Can I hear both options at least?”

Of course!

Cyon’s pitch-black avatar crawls out of the port my data cable is connected to, standing up proudly and floating into the centre of my vision.

Both options will focus on a new strain of bacteria: SerpentBite OG.

She raises her paws dramatically, and a small green organism flickers to life above her. It’s a strange thing, looking kind of like a sea anemone with tonnes of tiny tentacles floating about aimlessly.

“That’s bacteria?”

Yes, this is thousands of times larger to make it easier for you to see.

“That’s not-“

SerpentBite is a highly active strain of Antithesis-eating bacteria that specialise in consuming muscles and connective tissue, immobilising and disabling Antithesis quickly after exposure.

It just so happens that Model Sevens are made up of a soft enough tissue to be wholly affected by SerpentBite, so after infiltrating the host’s circulatory system through the lungs, the bacteria will consume the Model within seconds. When mixed with a potent enzyme to slowly break down the remaining biomass afterwards, it becomes complete plant-killing package!

I nod along at the impressive explanation, patiently waiting for her to get to the numbers while definitely not bouncing on the spot in anticipation.

The cheaper option is buying a dispersal canister like you did for White Dream in the past.

A familiar glass cylinder replaces the bacteria above Cyon’s head. It’s filled to the brim with a bubbling, fluorescent green liquid.

It will only cost you five points per room within the bunker, of which there are five, for a total of twenty-five points. As for the mutation option? That would be purchasing the genetic blueprint for SerpentBite for two hundred points along with the Class II Pneumatic Omni Organism Flinger Viral Sample for one hundred and fifty points.

The image above her head shifts once again, folding in on itself before expanding out into a bushy black and silver striped tail, almost identical to the one swishing around behind me except slightly denser.

The Class II P.O.O.F mutation focuses around augmenting your tail. It gives your fur a hydrophobic coating, creates a series of controllable micropores along the limb, and comes with a small support organ that to produce enzymes to mix with your bacterium. This will allow for easy, repeated dispersal of SerpentBite in an almost identical manner to the canister, and you will be able to use the limb for other strains, including White Dream if the weak enzymes that come with the P.O.O.F aren’t fast enough for your tastes.

The image of the tail twists, causing the fur to gather towards the central shaft for a moment before bursting out as it changes direction, flicking out a mist-like spray of green liquid.

“Organism Flinger? Isn’t that a bit of a reach? Also, you put so much effort into your pitch for the mutation. Where was that energy for the canister!?”

You are also nearing the safe limit for further mutations with the Class I Mutagen X you use before, so I would suggest getting a dose of Class I Mutamax X for another one hundred and fifty points.

I roll my eyes at her ignoring my questioning, obviously pushing me towards the mutations. But I have to admit, spraying alien melting goop by shaking my tail does sound tempting.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“Fine, mutations it is. Hit me with it,” I say with a faux resigned tone, not giving her the satisfaction of winning this one as I drop down to sit with my back against the wall.

Unfortunately, I regret my words moments later when Cyon’s avatar’s pitch-black face, so dark it’s hard to even see her snout when she looks straight at me, parts in a smug, glowing-white grin.

¯¯¯¯¯

New Purchases!

Class I SerpentBite OG (blueprint) – 200 points

Class II P.O.O.F Viral Sample – 150 points

Class I Mutamax X – 150 points

Total: 500 points

Remaining points: #####

_____

A pitch-black mass suddenly grows before my eyes, and a small box flies out of it before I can even blink, slamming into my nose and dropping into my lap as I stare ahead blankly.

Chip breaks out in chittering laughter on my shoulder, but Cyon drops the second box on his head moments later, almost immediately silencing him.

“Did… Did you just hit me with it?”

Yes. That’s what you wanted, correct?

“…”

“I’m sorry. I won’t make fun of your item acronyms again, they’re very impressive.”

She nods in satisfaction, placing her paws on her hips and pressing out her chest proudly.

I rub my slightly sore nose and choose to let her bask in her glory peacefully as her avatar fades away into nothingness.

I’m being nice, not running away!

Moving on quietly, I grab the box that has bounced to the ground after hitting Chip and pop it open, along with the one in my lap. They both contain syringes, but as I’m about to inject the Mutamax into my arm, I pause and glance at my bacteria incubator’s aug window, seeing it’s eighty per cent full of DogEater.

“How am I meant to use SerpentBite if my incubator’s almost full?” I ask, absentmindedly pressing the injector into my arm and feeling a warm buzz spread through my body.

You can either set your incubator to consume the current bacteria and reprocess it into a different strain at a small nutritional loss, or you can store it externally for a small point cost.

“It seems like a waste to reprocess it. Can I get a container please?”

Cyon doesn’t even bother with a full message in my augs, only flashing a small ‘-1’ in the corner of my vision as she spawns an empty glass tube in the air before me.

I drop the empty injector and snatch the tube before it falls, turning it to find a soft membrane covering one end. I don’t need her to tell me what to do as I stab the claw on my right thumb through the membrane, pouring the contents of my incubator out in a steady stream.

Once my incubator’s empty and the tube is almost full, I pull my claw out and drop the tube into a pocket at my leg.

Satisfied, I set the incubator to produce SnakeBite instead as I grab the second injector and bring it to my chest. Sim parts a small hole to give me access to my sternum, and the thick, dark yellow solution from the syringe drains into me.

I brace myself as I drop the empty injector and, a moment later, a burning itch erupts in my lower back.

I breathe a small sigh of relief. It doesn’t hurt too bad, though it’s hard to resist the urge to scratch it.

I busy my hands petting my brothers as we wait for the virus to finish doing its thing, watching my tail puff out slightly, gaining more mass and at least an extra five per cent fluffiness. After about twenty seconds, the scratchy sensation vanishes, leaving me to admire my puffy appendage.

Chip and Spot hop off my shoulders, scrambling down to join my tail in my lap, diving into the fluff as I run my fingers through it.

Nodding in satisfaction, I push myself off the ground and look at the sealed bunker door.

{Wait here for me,} I squeak to my brothers, peeling them out of my tail and setting them down on the floor.

They both nod and give me small salutes that melt my heart, before running over to the nearby corpses and rifling through their clothes.

“Right, time to clean up I guess,” I mutter, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, preparing my stomach for the gruesome scene waiting for me on the other side of the reinforced door.

I will open the door wide enough for you to enter and set it to automatically shut after a few seconds to keep the Antithesis contained for you. Please unplug your transfer conduit before entering unless you want to grow a new one.

I nod and take a firm grasp of the hair-like cable as I step up to the centre of the door.

Three. Two.

A mechanical beep replaces the last number in the countdown, and the door cracks open. I yank on my cable, tearing the conduit from the wall without feeling a thing, and squeeze myself into the parted gap.

There’s a person waiting for me immediately on the other side, but her vacant, glossy eyes with streams of bloody tears running down from them suggest maybe it’s not a warm welcome.

My hand lashes out before I can even think, parting the zombie’s head from its shoulders in an instant and leaving a thin coating of caustic green bacteria behind.

I quickly scan the room full of zombies, seeing several of them lined up along the edges on their backs, their stomachs breeding more Sevens. There are also dozens of the little worms crawling between the mindless zombies’ feet towards me.

I try not to focus on the bloated worm farms as I punch away the closest bodies, creating a little room for myself as the door clicks shut behind me.

“Let’s see how well this Organism Flinger flings!”

I turn my back to the group, extending my tail out and following my instincts, twisting the limb in a way I’m almost certain I couldn’t before, building up power as my incubator pours SnakeBite into it. With a small shake of my hips, I release the tension in my tail and watch over my shoulder as a green mist bursts from it, filling the room in an instant.

The zombies hobbling towards me freeze as the mist envelopes them, before slowly starting to convulse. The worms creeping along the floor all freak-out, squirming in panic as their bodies quickly disintegrate under the influence of the bacteria.

I turn to face the room completely as the seizing corpses fall to the floor, ceasing their movements after a few seconds before beginning to dissolve. A quick glance at my augs tells me my incubator’s already prepared for another burst, so I step over the bodies and head into the next chamber.