The Shoot Is On - Part 6 (Commission for VDO)

TAGS: Pokémon, Hyper/Mega Hyper, Macro/Mega Macro/Planet Macro/Universe Macro, Growth/Expansion, Milk/Lactation, Ascension/Goddess

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Terror was a difficult concept to fully describe. Every living thing, be they sentient or not, had its own set of stimuli which provoked in it that visceral, fight-or-flight response out of sheer, raw, unfiltered fear; while one’s self-consciousness might change the way one experienced this terror, it ultimately boiled down to a set of chemical reactions built into every functional brain, predicated on the need for self-preservation. It just so happened that, with countless quintillions of souls living across billions of universes, getting a proper average was practically impossible, as what one species might consider to be a “universal” fear stressor, another might see as perfectly mundane, perhaps even positive. It had long been an interest of multiversal anthropologists to try and ascertain if there was truly any one thing that everyone, down to the last sentient creature, feared so much that they would either freeze in utmost terror or try to run away from it in a blind panic; and while the answer to this question remained unknown for countless aeons, it would eventually be answered… in the absolute worst way possible. After all, what better way of finding out if something caused a universal fear reaction than to take that something and show it to every known universe at once? The logistics involved naturally made this a pipe dream, an impossibility that nonetheless served as an interesting thought experiment, at least until it showed up and promptly proved to all things that lived that yes, there was something that everyone feared.

No one remembered how it happened, and if they did, they had wisely decided to either wipe it clean from their minds or spend the rest of their lives pretending not to have answers. The worst part about it all was that it wasn’t instantaneous; perhaps, if the Unleashed had simply appeared one day and asserted themselves over the entirety of meta-reality, then maybe the shock would’ve been easier to process, or at least been strong enough that most people wouldn’t have to care too much about it, in a morbid sense. Instead, billions of universes were put through the wringer over the course of several years, as a series of escalating psychological phenomena spread throughout the multiverse’s many civilizations, first as a mere uptick in anxiety, then progressing into a serious outbreak, of mass paranoia, before eventually scientists began to detect the first words. They came not from without, but from within, hallucinations shared between those who had never even known of one another, people who lived in completely different realities and yet had the exact same tone of voice telling them the exact same things in the exact same way, all in a language that no one had ever heard before. From there, things went to the dumps pretty quickly, with societal order beginning to collapse as everyone became convinced the End Times were upon them, a subconscious understanding that something was dreadfully wrong and reality was about to implode upon itself in order to be reset, and something, or someone, was bearing down on them in order to do the job. Entire universes went dark as their constituent galaxies tore one another apart in apocalyptic chaos, until countless sentients’ entire lives were reduced to cowering in fear in whatever hole they dug for themselves. And then, at the very end of it all, when there was no longer any such thing as authority, he arrived.

To describe the Unleashed One would be to fail, for none could describe him beyond the vague notion that he embodied the identity of a male, for whatever unfathomable reason. Most universes didn’t even see him, let alone have the opportunity to begin understanding what he even was; for the vast majority of thinking life throughout the multiverse, the Unleashed was a presence, a thing that existed and made itself known in the back of their heads, its vague form imprinting itself upon the minds of all thinking creatures, serving as tyrant, dictator and oppressor. Any errant thought, any inkling of disobedience, any stray consideration for rebellion was instantly crushed, punished by summary disappearance; none knew where the vanished ones went to, but most assumed they were simply wiped clean from existence, as if they’d never been to begin with. What they didn’t know, what they couldn’t know, was that their newest god-tyrant, this vaguely undefined presence that occasionally made itself known via a sense of dread felt in the pit of everyone’s stomachs, was that the Unleashed One very much had a physical form, one that existed beyond the boundaries of existence and loomed over all things that ever were and ever would be. They were above gods, above pantheons, ruled over vast swathes of being and not-being with an iron first, crushing universes underfoot and demanding nothing but complete obedience from the many souls within; it was fitting that they took the form of an egregiously overendowed and muscular thing, vaguely humanoid in shape yet covered in deep red fur from top to bottom, its head encapsulated by a neck so bulky that it was doubtful the creature could even see at all, leading to a chest of dimensions so incomprehensible that movement was far past them. The Unleashed One rationalized this away as being a simple manifestation of their power, but the fact of the matter was that their muscle mass had grown so far out of control that they themselves were a victim to it, constantly seeking more while slowly leaving themselves more and more unable to do anything other than expand in every direction; it certainly helped that the expansion affected their prodigiously oversized cock and pair of balls as well, leading to a self-reinforcing cycle where, no matter how much the pressure rose, no matter how many times the Unleashed One believed themselves to be close to exploding, they would once again reap vast swathes of sentients and bring them to his little bubble of existence in the great barren wastes of unreality, that they may worship his form despite only being able to comprehend a fraction of a fraction of it. They were, ultimately, the god, not just a god, and all who lived would act accordingly.

They were also, as it turned out, a bit of a thorn on Vivian’s side, as by the time she noticed that the little upstart was even there to begin with, it was already too late to do anything about the universes they had terrorized into compliance. It left her feeling genuinely sick, to know that so many people had to suffer because she hadn’t paid close enough attention; granted, as her mom told her time and again, she couldn’t possibly be held accountable for not noticing something that happened in a cluster of just a few billion universes when she had a literal infinity to worry about, but that hardly mattered for all the people that had to go through years of torture because this “Unleashed One”, as he liked calling himself, happened to stumble onto the right combination of harmonic frequencies to tune into divinity. It was made worse by the fact that he was surprisingly resistant to being dislodged; as much as Vivian hated to admit it, the pissant had transcended the bounds of regular godhood and become something new, something better, not unlike herself… if only on a much, much smaller scale. Seeing as the two were technically on the same level of existence, it was impossible for the Delphox to extricate her new rival, because they were already in the exact same place, and it just so happened this Unleashed fellow was too small to see her. This, of course, opened up a perfect opportunity for her to do something about the problem before it came knocking on her door later down the line; not that she had any doubts about her ability to take care of even an ascended creature like that, but it was better for her to put the issue to rest as quickly as she could in order to spare the lives of more living beings from being subjected to the same tortures as the ones doomed to forever be tramped under the immense paws of that monstrous destructor deity. Vivian was revolted at the notion of it; to imagine that anyone could ever reach the level of understanding that she was at and, rather than using it to elevate life and give it neverending bliss, to instead trample it, kick it while it was down, then stamp on it with a boot, forever, until it was too scared to fight back. No, she was going to fix that, and she was going to fix that now.

In fact, she even had a good idea of how she wanted to go about doing that, one that left her body tingling at the mere thought of it. Part of how the Unleashed One made sure to maintain their reign of terror was to make sure that those who even thought about deposing him were transported to his personal realm, where they would forever serve on rubbing or kneading or massaging whatever part of his burgeoning self he felt needed more care and attention. While most universes weren’t privy to this, there were a few, the core realities with the most sentient life, for whom this realm constituted the very backdrop of their cosmos; rather than an endless, infinite blackness, they were forced to watch as this musclebound brute kidnapped their loved ones and forced them to worship something that wasn’t even worth a second look, at least going by its moral standing. These universes had been looking at this spectacle for centuries, millenia in some cases, and thus Vivian figured the best way of breaking the hold the Unleashed One had over their petty realm was to just… show up. No more alterations to her form were needed, just a projected avatar of roughly the same size as the tyrant; proportions were kept, so the first thing the Unleashed saw wasn’t actually the Delphox’s face, but a single nipple poking him directly on the side of the head, prompting him to look to it and wonder just what in his own name he was looking at. After an uncomfortably long amount of time, Vivian heard them yell in shock, declaring a whole bunch of things that they would do to this “usurper of the rightful throne” and other such nonsense that the Delphox didn’t particularly care about; honestly, the longer she heard that idiot talk, the less she wanted to hear him, and the only reason she was even keeping the theatrical charade going was precisely for the sake of giving the sentients kept prisoner in the Unleashed One’s universes some semblance of hope. There she was, an unknown goddess come from nowhere, who utterly silenced their oppressor by unceremoniously shoving a teat into the cavernous valley where the red overlord’s neck sunk into where their head was, declaring that she was there to best him in a contest of brawn and wit. Many refused to believe anything good could come of this; surely, this was just another tyrant who decided that they wanted a slice out of their present dominator’s realm.

But, rather than attempting to impose her will upon them, or even move to attack the Unleashed One, Vivian remained put, waiting for an answer as her “rival” disentangled himself from the nipple keeping him so embarrassingly immobilized, his voice clearly breaking and cracking as he demanded a trial by combat, declaring that he would not only crush her, but take all of her power in the process as well. The Delphox, eager to get the show on the road and kick the upstart back to whatever reality he once came from, snapped her fingers and produced the two’s arena: a gigantic, multiversal-sized fighting pit around which the entirety of the Unleashed’s captive universes were arranged in a circle, that they may watch as the two competitors walking into the proverbial ring in order to duke it out. For a moment, Vivian almost felt pity for the poor thing as it tried to understand just what had happened; they were so convinced of their own immense power that to just suddenly have their entire domain so effortlessly rearranged like that triggered a series of incredibly destructive questions, ones that they had to work hard in order to shove to the back of their mind as they walked into the “pit”: a vast volume in the interstitial multiversal medium, which Vivian had filled with a thick, syrupy substance that felt, smelt and tasted suspiciously like a mixture of two entirely different forms of cream, none of which were confectionery. The Delphox could do little more than smile when she saw her competitor stumble around in a haze, unable to understand just what was happening to them. The pity refused to wash away, though it had mutated into something else entirely; no longer was she sorry for the unapologetic tyrant, but rather she had to pity his mere existence, so utterly devoid of any real understanding of divinity that even something as simple as rearranging an entire multiverse for the sake of a pseudo-boxing match left them so confused as to be unable to come up with coherent sentences. Truly, theirs was a power wasted on a mind who wasn’t even remotely ready to wield it, and just for that, the Delphox was going to make it quick.

Not much effort needed to thoroughly dismantle everything the Unleashed One had built, which only added to how pathetic the entire display was. He was clearly a paper tiger, so much so that all it took was Vivian taking a couple of steps toward him, effortlessly wading through the pool she herself created, for the would-be god to take the same number of steps back, seemingly unwilling to commit to a fight now that he realized just how outmatched he truly was. It didn’t help that even his pride and joy, the cock he had on proudly full display, was utterly dwarfed by the one that the Delphox had smushed between her immense tits; not only was it clearly longer, long enough that the Unleashed’s own shaft would probably need to at least triple in length just to able to compare, but it was so thick that he began wondering if he would even be capable of hugging it properly without needing to grow a lot bigger as well… which, in turn, led to him realizing he was fantasizing about holding onto that enormous rod as more than just a fighting tactic, which only served as yet another brick being torn off the flimsy wall they built for themselves. Bit by bit, their defenses were chipped away as the Unleashed One began to understand just what he was going up against, because Vivian wasn’t just getting closer, she was getting bigger as well: her shaft continued to pick up in raw mass, towering over the tiny pretender god, her tits filled to the point where they could easily flood their arena with just a droplet if need be, and even the Delphox’s body in general was becoming something of a titan compared to the Unleashed. Worst of all was a dreadful, looming realization that the red tyrant was only vaguely aware of, the same kind of creeping dread forming into a more well-defined idea that he himself had subjected to his subjects before appearing fully before them: the notion that what he was looking at, all of that Delphox perfection before his eyes, amounted to little more than a percentage point of a decimal of a fraction of Vivian’s true self. He could see it, just barely visible in the corners of his eyes and out in the vast beyond, that what he was looking at outside the fighting pit (at least, in the small bits that weren’t completely covered in Delphox plush) wasn’t the eternal infinity of meta-existence… but just more Vivian.

It was like looking into the blackest pits of Hell itself, albeit ones adorned with a most radiant smile and an endless series of kind words reminding him that he should’ve been nicer, should’ve been more considerate, should’ve thought about the misery he brought to others before trying his hand at being a god. Perhaps he had died and this was his personal punishment, something that made an uncomfortable amount of sense once he felt his very bulk and power start to be drained, shrinking him down at a rate so quick that he didn’t even have time to complain about it; he was paralyzed by fear, his ability to react the way he usually did to challengers utterly destroyed by, fittingly enough, a deep existential terror that he had ascended into godhood to escape. How foolish he was, to think that he could run from his problems, as if there wouldn’t always be someone greater than him ready to kick him into dust… all thoughts that Vivian, being Vivian, could clearly hear going on inside of her opponent’s head, her own face going stony and expressionless as she internally bemoaned how someone could miss the point so badly. She wasn’t doing this to harm him, merely to teach him a lesson in how to treat others; if he were willing to turn around and act like a decent divinity, she really wouldn’t have an issue with that. Instead, he chose to believe it was divine punishment for him trying to overstep his bounds, thus proving that he really was a pitiable thing who still had so much to learn.

No matter. The point of her going to all that trouble was to free that particular multiverse from the influence of a tyrant god who knew nothing but their own sense of self-satisfaction, and that’s exactly what Vivian did. When the last vestiges of the Unleashed One were erased, when their soul was jettisoned back to their home universe in order to relive its life and think about what it did, the realities once oppressed by it were finally free.

Maybe next time he’d do better.