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They were skin to skin now, every curve and contour molded together by the relentless, muscular sack.
“Comfy?” Aldith’s voice was smug. “I’ll be right here, tending to my partner. Watching his beautiful body convert your legacy into his future. When it’s all over, and he coughs up those pretty trinkets—your necklace, Cynthia, and whatever baubles you had, Diantha—I’ll add them to my collection. Tokens of a world we’re erasing.”
Cynthia felt Diantha’s hand twitch, her fingers searching in the dark. With a monumental effort, Diantha managed to slide her hand up, her palm coming to rest flat against Cynthia’s back, between her shoulder blades. It was a feeble attempt at a hug, a final gesture of human connection in the dehumanizing dark. Cynthia, her arms still trapped, could only press her cheek harder against Diantha’s.
“I’m… sorry,” Diantha whispered.
“Don’t be,” Cynthia rasped. “It’s not your fault.”
“For what comes next… for both of us.”
Cynthia understood. The final descent into unconsciousness. The cessation of thought. The moment their minds would dissolve before their bodies did. The ultimate, undignified end.
Aldith began speaking again, her voice a low, loving murmur to her Seviper. “That’s it, my gorgeous boy. Rest and digest. Let them marinate. Such quality ingredients… No microplastics, no synthetic toxins. Just pure, organic champion. You’ll shed the most magnificent skin after this. And I’ll be an Admin, draped in your new, powerful scales. We’ll take Sinnoh, then Kalos, then all the regions. And it all started here, with two women who thought they were powerful.”
