[1260 / 134 / 30]
Your name is Shu, and you’ve come a long way at the end of the world.
The world as you knew it is long gone, consumed from without by a ravenous being from beyond the stars. Humanity’s been reshaped into a vicious, feral thing by the Crucible, their bodies twisted into raging beasts of muscle and bone, voices and minds warped into tools of war. The Daughters—combatants elected by the Crucible to fight and devour their fellows to reach even the apex of hideous strength—are perhaps the lucky ones, granted the freedom of choice in a world where most humans, flora, and fauna have been melted down into a carpet of raw biomass that’s pulled taut across our world.
Like every other Daughter in existence, you can feel the pull—gnawing at your bones, pulling every fiber of your being towards the tether between a mutilated earth and an alien sky. You call it the Cord, and it’s said that reaching its summit will grant the Crucible’s victor the power to reshape all that is into all that will be.
A siren’s song, beckoning you to the end of all things…
…but you’ll fight it, and anything else that would dare to drown out humanity’s future.
For a brief, blessed moment, though…there’s no fighting to be done save for wrangling the strap of your dress down around your left shoulder. You stand alone in a rare moment of silence, staring at your own reflection in the mirror of your room as you inspect what the Crucible’s made of you. The pitch-black plates of steely chitin that were once limited to your spine have almost completely covered your left arm in a gauntlet of onyx, and as you roll your right the tell-tale clicking along your shoulder informs you that the other arm’s soon to follow. Wiggling your toes, you try and get used to their warped texture—what were once flat and unassuming have been twisted into spirals of rough-hewn flesh, eager to impose its will upon the Fleshscape at your whim. The fingers of your right hand trail along your arm before grazing the vertical slit that runs from your belly and up to your chest, the ravenous maw opening slightly at your touch to reveal the rows of guillotine-teeth that line the merciless void.
“Need some help getting that dress off all the way?” Purrs a welcome voice behind you.
++++++
Previous Vein: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2022/5211274/
Archive: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Body%20Horror%20Quest
Character Abilities: https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1p_asyKKcyCbQieAAXo1oogBucLtzSypx8-M9vqA96zE/edit#gid=1685687578
Trypophilic Hive, Ver. 3: https://pastebin.com/bUWG6TNF
Relics, Ver. 7: https://pastebin.com/kHzW2hbd
Dual Techs: https://pastebin.com/2jZ5Zhyx
Character Profiles: https://pastebin.com/eL2zTZ4f
Quest Fan Works: https://docs.google.com/document/u/0/d/1comL20X2jUrPO0p7QMdFinwAwdXHre2F9A5bdXif7_k/mobilebasic
Twitter: https://twitter.com/bodyhorrorquest?lang=en
The world as you knew it is long gone, consumed from without by a ravenous being from beyond the stars. Humanity’s been reshaped into a vicious, feral thing by the Crucible, their bodies twisted into raging beasts of muscle and bone, voices and minds warped into tools of war. The Daughters—combatants elected by the Crucible to fight and devour their fellows to reach even the apex of hideous strength—are perhaps the lucky ones, granted the freedom of choice in a world where most humans, flora, and fauna have been melted down into a carpet of raw biomass that’s pulled taut across our world.
Like every other Daughter in existence, you can feel the pull—gnawing at your bones, pulling every fiber of your being towards the tether between a mutilated earth and an alien sky. You call it the Cord, and it’s said that reaching its summit will grant the Crucible’s victor the power to reshape all that is into all that will be.
A siren’s song, beckoning you to the end of all things…
…but you’ll fight it, and anything else that would dare to drown out humanity’s future.
For a brief, blessed moment, though…there’s no fighting to be done save for wrangling the strap of your dress down around your left shoulder. You stand alone in a rare moment of silence, staring at your own reflection in the mirror of your room as you inspect what the Crucible’s made of you. The pitch-black plates of steely chitin that were once limited to your spine have almost completely covered your left arm in a gauntlet of onyx, and as you roll your right the tell-tale clicking along your shoulder informs you that the other arm’s soon to follow. Wiggling your toes, you try and get used to their warped texture—what were once flat and unassuming have been twisted into spirals of rough-hewn flesh, eager to impose its will upon the Fleshscape at your whim. The fingers of your right hand trail along your arm before grazing the vertical slit that runs from your belly and up to your chest, the ravenous maw opening slightly at your touch to reveal the rows of guillotine-teeth that line the merciless void.
“Need some help getting that dress off all the way?” Purrs a welcome voice behind you.
++++++
Previous Vein: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2022/5211274/
Archive: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Body%20Horror%20Quest
Character Abilities: https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1p_asyKKcyCbQieAAXo1oogBucLtzSypx8-M9vqA96zE/edit#gid=1685687578
Trypophilic Hive, Ver. 3: https://pastebin.com/bUWG6TNF
Relics, Ver. 7: https://pastebin.com/kHzW2hbd
Dual Techs: https://pastebin.com/2jZ5Zhyx
Character Profiles: https://pastebin.com/eL2zTZ4f
Quest Fan Works: https://docs.google.com/document/u/0/d/1comL20X2jUrPO0p7QMdFinwAwdXHre2F9A5bdXif7_k/mobilebasic
Twitter: https://twitter.com/bodyhorrorquest?lang=en
