An order of acolytes dedicated themselves to the worship of the Necronomicon. Scattered across all of time and the multiverse, these dreaded fanatics had come to be known as the 'Cult of the Nemesis' by those that warred with them, their numbers unable to be completely stamped out. Most of the time they were unseen by mortals, since few survived to tell the tales. Anyone unfortunate enough to cross their path would either be sacrificed...or worse, indoctrinated by force.
Garbed in hood cloaks which fluttered when they appeared to float across the earth, one of their members stared into a crystal ball, where visions of their prey surfaced. The minotaurs, with their female counterparts the holstaurs. The Amazons, a female tribe in the deep forest. And the caribou, who cut a deal with these devils to further spread their conquest of all females. They, too, would be harvested once their usefulness came to an end, were they not wiped out first in the all-out war soon to come.
Currently, most of their numbers in this Equestria made their home in the blackest pits of the forest, which decayed around them, the trees petrified, the waters turned to poisonous swamps that bubbled and radiated visible vapors. Gnarled wilderness appeared charred and blackened. A phantasmal miasma so thick one could breathe it in and exhale it permeated the radius.
Some of those spirited away from their homeworlds couldn't even recall their pasts, overwritten by the cosmic storm when it deposited them here. Others clung obsessively to their memories, and pitted their will against the forced indoctrination. One of those, who looked into the crystal ball, cast back their hood to throw back a thick mane, and the front of their cape-like robes fluttered open, to expose a supple, voluptuous female form beneath without a stitch of underwear.
Glows from the crystal ball in rhythm reflected off Trixie Lulamoon's face and denuded curves, the buxom witch's snout drawn in a malicious smirk. “Heehee. Lavender Lace, Fuchsia Blush, to the Great and Powerful Trixie's sides~!” With a flourish, she waved her old friends over. The mares 'dressed' in the same fashion, their delicious bodies put on full display for the world.
“It's nippy out here,” whined Lavender, her nipples stiff in the cool air.
“Beats the humidity in areas we don't control,” reminded Fuchsia, her own areola also erect.
“Quiet, you two. Look and observe~!” Trixie pointed at the crystal ball, where the Amazon Queen, Zafire Heart, swam into view. A crystal alicorn that towered over most individuals. The sphere's view trailed across the rest of the encampment, over the minotaurs, holstaurs, and Amazons.
“So we convert them all like usual,” said Fuchsia, a hand draped on a thrust out hip. “Easy-peasy!”
Lavender cried, “But there's so many of them! Look, they have entire armies at the ready!”
“That's where the caribou come in,” reminded Trixie. “They'll continue to divide and conquer for us, thin their numbers, before we swoop in and awaken the survivors to the truth!” Most of her memories seemed distant, yet they were still housed within her brain. Above all, she remembered her daughter, Beatrix Belladonna, the 'Wandering Witch' able to weave portals and travel the multiverse at a whim. Her child forever tied to the Necronomicon, a 'clone' of her mother.
She didn't know where Beatrix was now. But she'd track her down, show her the way!
Acolytes from their order were forcibly converted by members, each of them in symbioses with parasitic, eldritch entities. The three mares could feel the abominations squirm inside their slippery wombs, and a wet splash oozed from their pussylips when a nest of tentacles wormed their way free from their snatches, the monstrosities tethered to their uterine walls where they lived.
With this fusion, their magic potential ended up amplified beyond the limitations of a unicorn. They could work spells far above their skill level, and picked up many new techniques with ease. Their overtaken minds surrendered to the connected enemies, almost a hivemind in service to their cause, to spread corruption, devastation, and debauchery wherever their order traversed.
While they could easily work their arts without them, the trio of unicorns carried wands fashioned from severed unicorn horns, like all members of their order. Eventually, these would burn out, since the mystic potential of any individual was limited, especially after severed from a live body. Usually, they kept them hidden in the folds of their cloaks, until they needed to be brandished.
The labyrinth of twisted trees which appeared to have horrific faces stretched before them. Fellow members read from tomes of the dark arts, whispered traded secrets, performed blasphemous experiments. Familiars and pets, often made up from different animals and insects fused into one by the arcane, made their way across the maze or lazed about, while ravens crooned overhead.
No sane mortal would dare tread anywhere near here, let-alone choose this as a home.
From her vantage, Trixie studied the pale moon, surrounded by dense, inky black clouds. One day, the fated 'Walpurgisnacht' would arrive, the lunar surface would bleed a blood red, and the Apocalypse would commence. They were the custodians of the ill-fated End of Days!
The nightly, ritualistic orgies began, as the cultists chanted an alien tongue, discarded their hooded robes to leave themselves exposed beneath the moonlight, and surrendered themselves into piles of flesh, mixed between men and women from numerous races, plus their pets and familiars.
Trixie, Lavender, and Fuchsia stretched the bunches of tentacles from their moist cunts, each coil lined in rubbery suckers when they shot out and penetrated the exposed orifices of their peers. Vine-like, they wrapped around bare tits, buttocks, and cocks, rubbed at clitorises while they drove into pussies, rectums, and down throats, the acolytes left to writhe and mewl in ecstasy.
Lost in a dream-like trance of bliss, Lavender and Fuchsia scissored, and their twat tentacles entangled while they grinded their moist pussylips, driven up each other's cunt and past the cervix to explore their womb. In that moment, the eldritch parasites in them connected and mated. Their horns lit up, telekinetic auras used to tweak, pinch, and pull nipples and clits, probed at exposed orifices, and Trixie did much the same, as she fantasized about Beatrix's indoctrination.
Loads of cum and squirts slathered the attendees, who went at it while they waited for dawn to break. Trixie once dreaded the day when she first encountered the Necronomicon, but without it, Beatrix Belladonna would never have come to be. Her child provided her a sense of purpose.
Until they were reunited, she would continue to carry out the order's will...
*****
An ill-omen weighed upon Zafire Heart. Since the broken caribou females were mentally scarred and most either feared men or immediately submitted to them, with barely any will of their own left, the Amazon tribes had taken the poor women in and attempted to mend their psyches. Unfortunately, she knew it would take years for most, and some were far beyond repair, a normal life forever denied them after a lifetime of abuse under the hands of the male caribou.
Perhaps a proper spell could mend their minds. But first, she'd have to wipe portions of their memories, hollow them out, and she wavered about the moral implications of that. However, a queen sometimes needed to make decisive, and perhaps dubious decisions for the betterment of the many. She mulled back-and-forth over the consequences in her private forest home.
A few elite Amazons had risen to the rank of her lieutenants. Fluttershy, with her command over animals. Tree Hugger, who manipulated plants. And more recently, Chezka Windhooves a centaur, and Panna Fauna, a fawn. Both skilled warriors, and the latter also a medicine woman.
Their tribe's alliance with the minotaurs and their female counterparts the holstaurs continued, bolstered both by continuous victories over the caribou hordes, and the 'Cult of the Nemesis' she warned their leaders of, albeit most of them had encountered little evidence of the cultists.
One of the reasons they'd even heard her out was due to Redrum and Moon Hammer, two of their representatives. They also believed her tales about the cosmic storms that rewrote reality.
With nowhere else to turn, Cornelius Fauna was allowed to live near the Amazon territory, in a hut out in the wilderness they built for him. She promised to support him, whenever he needed it.
“Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to have a few males here,” she murmured to herself. Her palm idly traced a crystalline column which stood before her similarly constructed home.
Her eyes were drawn to a shooting star that streaked across the sky in the distance. With a gasp, she heard the explosion rock the earth in the distance, an ill-omen despite its ethereal beauty. She spread her plume and sailed into the sky, while her Amazons also mobilized to investigate. Nor would they be the only ones to race onto the scene, the fallen star seen across Equestria...
*****
Moon Hammer's telescope spotted the comet far before anyone else knew of its existence. He rushed to find Redrum, a fellow minotaur that often served as a father-figure and mentor to the more youthful blacksmith. His mass had increased a little through constant workouts and meals heavy in protein to build muscle, but he was still leaner and swifter than most of his kind.
He reached the crimson skinned and furred bull with a chipped horn, who had retired to his small bar for the day, dressed in an open vest, pants, and boots. A bell tinkled when Moon Hammer entered and huffed a little when he leaned on the counter. Redrum asked, “What's the rush, son?”
“A-a star crashed somewhere out in the wild! Can you come with me to take a look?”
Redrum smiled thinly beneath his small mustache at his empty, afternoon bar. “Sure. Won't have many customers until it's dark out anyhow.” He flipped the sign to 'Closed', took up his battle axe hidden beneath the rows of bottles behind the counter, and also took a pack of provisions.
“Thanks! I estimated where it fell and can mark it on a map. Shouldn't be more than a few miles on foot.” The two men set out, and noticed another party of minotaurs had already been put together to serve as a search party. After a small chat with Redrum, they decided to travel as one.
Gears turned with clanks ahead. Gates that serve as an entrance and exit to the compound creaked open, surrounded by reinforced walls. Mechanized bull automatons served as sentinels, with ballistas and watchtowers stationed around the area in case of another attempted invasion.
“Wait~,” came the slow voice of Milky Mountains, whose udders, hips, and buttocks shook in her cow-print bikini, barely able to contain the voluptuous curves of the holstaur. A cowbell tinkled from a collar around her neck, tiny horns visible from her thick mane. Her sleepy eyes matched her lazy speech style when she beamed at them. “How about a few kisses for luck, boytoys?”
“Count me in too,” added Creamy Canyons, a more confident holstaur with a hand planted on her wide hip, part of her thick mane done up in a small bun. “Shame we can't come, but honestly, we'd only be in the way. Afraid we're not warriors, like you two, but I do know how to throw a punch!”
Moon Hammer smiled back. “I wouldn't say no to a kiss!” His lips met Creamy's and Milky's, while Redrum's were more chaste, despite how these two had helped make the blacksmith a man.
Creamy said, “See you later, studs! Don't let us down!”
“Drink lots of milk,” teased Milky with a wink, as she shimmied in her bikini.
They'd bounced back quickly, even after what the caribou did to them. Of course, they'd only been imprisoned for a few days, compared to many that had been taken prisoner. Moon Hammer worried about what the comet meant. Could it be used as a potential weapon by the caribou?
Theymarched out to find it first, and the blacksmith suddenly wished he could fly. Perhaps he could someday craft prosthetic wings that could serve such a purpose...but could they support the weight of a minotaur? He'd figure that out later, as he pointed to his calculated trajectory on the folded out map and marked the area where the fallen star would most likely have made landfall.
Boots crunched across the flatlands, into the forests. Certain portions were considered Amazon territory, but with the shaky alliance between their clans they needn't fear them. After their crushing defeat, the caribou had mostly gone into hiding, as more of their smaller camps were crushed and claimed by the minotaurs. However, the Amazon Queen warned them the worst could still be to come, with her paranoia about these unseen cultists, and a cosmic storm.
Redrum broke the blacksmith's reverie with a whispered, “You sense it too, don't you?”
“Yeah. Somebody's watching us,” he murmured back and tried not to dart his eyes at the trees, as he too played dumb for now. The Amazons? Or someone else? Whatever the case, they could see the prismatic smoke trail from a crater that loomed in the distance, contrasted to a sky that started to dim. “Wait,” he warned a fellow bull with a raised arm to halt their advance. “Cover me.”
The soldiers nodded, arrows cocked in their crossbows. Redrum also had his back with his axe readied, both of them aware they'd be out in the open, vulnerable to a potential ambush.
Redrum asked, “Do you think it's safe? The meteor, I mean?”
“Hmm. A radiation leak or spores are possible. But I haven't had time to build a proper hazmat suit. Our kind aren't dumb by any means, but most are too stuck in their ways, so our science has been slow to advance. I fear if I share too much knowledge too soon, I'll become a pariah, or worse. Without your support, I'm not sure I'd still be welcomed,” he finished as they closed in.
Redrum squeezed his shoulder firmly. “They'll understand. Someday. Until then...” He removed the cap from a canteen, drank the spiced cider, and offered his friend some, who took a sip too. “Braveheart. It's do-or-die,” he decided, as they risked whatever the comet could do to them.
The sphere shimmered and hummed. Its radiance lit up the darkness that had started to fall. They walked down the slope into the crater, where the heat steamed over them, their muscles soon awash in even thicker perspiration. Moon hammer exhaled and noted, “Well, we're still alive. Hopefully there won't be any long term effects. Don't want to end up sterile, since I hoped to be married and have kids of my own someday. Maybe I should've taken a sentinel with us to safely explore, but-”
“-they're too slow,” he finished for him. “By the time we arrived, someone else could claim it.”
“But now what? I didn't think that far ahead. We can't easily transport all this back. We'd have to break this comet down piece-by-piece, and that's if we assume it even can be broken!”
“One way to know.” Redrum's hands clasped around the hilt, as with a two-armed swipe he struck the sphere's spacious surface. Muscles rippled, and he shook when metal-struck-metal in a rain of sparks, with barely a scratch left on the comet. “Huh. Sturdier than steel, it seems.”
Moon Hammer, too, struck the orb with all the might he could muster, his war hammer designed to pulverize flesh, bone, and bend the sturdiest known metals, but he, too, was barely able to dent their discovery. They struck different parts of the orb, moved around it in hopes they could locate a softer spot, but no matter how many times they bashed it, their blows made little difference.
The blacksmith collapsed and huffed, “Damn it. That was a waste of time.”
“Maybe not. We learned something, didn't we?” He shared another drink from the canteen with him. “You said some of the stars have vanished? Was this meteor or whatever one of those?”
“I think so. Like it burned away into something much smaller, a hunk of spherical met. It could even be from another universe. I can't deny the idea kind of excites me,” he confessed.
“Curiosity is what drives our species forward. The minotaurs could use more of it, son.” By now, their fellow minotaur soldiers crept closer, but still kept watch with crossbows at the ready. Darkness had fallen, the skies lit up by a sea of stars that framed the pallid moon. With that, the temperature also started to cool, and the steam that once rose from the sphere had died out.
A horn sounded in the distance to announce an approach. The bulls went on alert.
“Wait,” said the blacksmith, who peered out with his telescope. “It's the Amazons!” He spotted their queen at the front, who sailed in with her wide plume and landed a short distance away from the crater. Cautiously, crossbows were lowered, as Moon Hammer came to meet her. “You easily could've beaten us here, so why didn't you? I assume you've been observing for a while?”
Yes,” she replied with a nod. “I didn't want you to think I'd try to claim this comet for myself.”
“One could assume you wanted us to assess whether it's harmful,” added Redrum dryly.
Zafire tittered at the idea, a hand raised to her bosom. “Oh, I have no fear of it, only what may come of its presence. My mystic arts and alicorn physique should be sufficient to protect me.” Her features hardened when she studied the orb. “This 'comet' radiates an eldritch power. Almost like it's alive.” Her horn lit up, to wrap a protective layer around her palm when she touched it.
She could hear it breathe. The slow, steady staccato of an uneven, alien heartbeat.
Redrum asked, “What do you think we should do?”
“Transport it back to your compound. It's too vulnerable out here. My Amazons will help and escort you,” surmised Zafire. “With your permission?” Moon Hammer and Redrum shared a look, then nodded. With her ancient alicorn body and awesome arcane prowess to match, Zafire assured herself she'd be able to lift up the comet with her aura...but when she wrapped the field around it, and started to lift it inch-by-inch, already she hissed and strained, a vein pulsed on her temple.
With honed concentration, she'd once moved a portion of an entire castle. Yet while her mane and loincloth whipped around her, she strained and shook on her knees. “It's...it's too much...!”
A thud sounded when it dropped back into the pit. The shockwave bowled her, Moon Hammer, and Redrum over, as dust blossomed around them amidst the small quake.
Redrum asked, “Anyone hurt? You okay, son?”
“Yeah, I'm fine. Look!” He pointed at the sphere, where a fracture appeared from the impact, and continued to audibly spread across the metallic surface. An inky blackness oozed out from the wounds and washed onto the earth, where the three of them scrambled away from the slime.
The minotaurs and Amazons above the crevice crept closer.
“My queen!” A sharp cry and the trot of hooves sounded from Chezka Windhooves, the centaur archer, whose spiky white ponytail and horsetail to match sailed in the wind.
Panna Fauna, a fawn with a small horn on her forehead, also approached. “What should we-”
“Stay back,” ordered Zafire, her horn and fists lit in anticipation of whatever emerged. What would hatch from what appeared to be some cosmic egg? Or would this blackness simply contaminate Equestria with poisonous corruption? She shuddered at what they may have unleashed.
The sphere cracked open like a shell. Split open into two halves before the onlookers.
Zafire scooped up Moon Hammer and Redrum under her arms, sailed up from the crater and away from the flood of inky waves that washed out from the sphere and started to fill the pit. The minotaurs and Amazons hurried back, as part of the messiness overflowed onto the soil.
From its center, submerged in the much, was a nude mare contorted in a fetal position. Gradually, she lurched to her feet in the cracked shell, tall and voluptuous, with a mane that draped behind her. Her eyes slowly blinked open when she studied the people collected around the pit.
Moon Hammer whispered, “Why does she look so familiar?”
Zafire narrowed her eyes. “Beatrix? Trixie? No, I don't think she's either of them, but she certainly passes as a look-alike.” She noted the mare's color scheme was different, for one.
The unicorn mare barely seemed to notice them. “Who...am I?” A two-toned, red-and-white mane that matched her tail trailed to her ankles and fluttered in the breeze. She shimmered in the darkness, and her lit up skin illuminated the area further. Gossamer, butterfly wings unfurled from her back, while she took the first, awkward steps into the black pool. “It's so cold.”
“Stay back,” warned Zafire. “I can feel her presence! Her power is off the scale!”
Chezka, with an arrow already nocked in her bow, murmured, “Should we take the shot?”
“No,” said the queen. “It wouldn't be wise to invoke violence.” Somehow, she sensed whatever this creature was, her power was a match for her own. Perhaps she even surpassed her...!
With each step, the mare appeared more confident. Grace replaced her awkwardness. Her mane and tail floated behind her like an ethereal curtain of flames, and her buxom breasts were tipped with wide, perky nipples, as her hips and buttocks swayed, her taut snatch bared. She then hovered, and floated up from the crater, where she landed at the surface, her lips drawn in a forlorn manner.
“Keep your distance,” warned Chezka, her drawn arrow tip leveled at the mare's heart.
“Wait! Maybe she doesn't mean any harm,” said Panna, who nonetheless kept a hand at a knife.
The unicorn mare asked, “Why was I born? What is my purpose? Tell me!” She clutched her hands to the sides of her skull, unleashed a scream that split the air. The crowds shrank back from the sound, covering their ears, as the creature's horn and hands started to shimmer brilliantly.
Moon Hammer yelled, “Look out!” He shoved Redrum away from a stray prismatic beam that zapped from the unicron's horns, a steamy black mark left on the dirt where the blast struck. More lasers continued to punch out from the horn and hands, as Zafire raised an arcane barrier.
“Calm down,” cried Zafire, yet the unicorn continued her blind assault. A lightshow blanketed the area. Arrows launched from bows and crossbows, as the minotaurs and Amazons counterattacked in tandem. The creature reflexively raised her own barrier, and arrows sizzled and disintegrated on contact with the invisible shield. Quickly, both sides found themselves locked in a stalemate.
However, Zafire noticed the mare's control increased by the second, her aim more precise, her arcane lasers more concentrated. At this rate, she could potentially master her craft within the hour! And then, she truly would prove unstoppable! Should she order a tactical retreat...?
*****
Another person that raced onto the scene earlier from a private hut was Cornelius Fauna. His sister could be in trouble, and he wasn't about to let her approach the fallen comet alone.
One the way he'd met up with two of the Amazon Queen's lieutenants, Fluttershy and Tree Hugger, who transported themselves atop their berserker bear. Shy told the fleet-footed satyr, “Leave this to us! This is Amazon business, you don't need to involve yourself anymore!”
“Panna's my sister,” he reminded them while they ran across the forest.
“Got us there,” admitted Tree with a crooked smile. Just don't slow us down, okay?”
“You don't have to worry about that. Sis and I used to be outlaws,” he told them, reminded of when he and Panna slipped under the noses of the authorities. His deer hooves cut across the dirt Eventually, they had arrived, and seen the earlier events play out before the pitched battle commenced. A machete rested on a belt at his hip, with more knives in his jacket.
“Looks like we won't be much help,” noted Tree at the chaos ahead.
Shy shouted, “We have to try! Mister Bear,” she said as the riders slid off. “Be careful!” However, before they could even attempt to intervene, one of her birds sailed down with a caw. “What? The caribou are also on their way?” She mimied at her allies while she interpreted the bird's cries.
“Far out,” said Tree with a subdued chuckle. “Looks like we'll see some action after all!”
“Maybe you should led the caribou try and claim whatever that unicorn mare is,” offered Cornelius. “Let them all tear each other apart, before the alliance moves in to clean up the mess!”
There wasn't much time to consider it, as Shy and Tree alerted their fellow Amazons that were nearby. Without much time to prepare, the allied armies pulled back. By now, the mysterious stranger that emerged from the egg had begun to slow her attack, more methodical now, almost like she'd started to lose interest in the attackers, who proved little match for her prowess.
The forest shook when the caribou hordes started to converge from all sides. Hundreds of the enemies poured in. Trees rattled, the earth shaken, and birds scattered from treetops to sail into the skies. They were out in full-force, prepared for this moment, ready to finish this once-and-for-all.
'Brutes', the titans of their race, and Warbeasts also filled their ranks. Any hope of an escape route was cut off. Fluttershy and Tree Hugger acted quickly so they wouldn't be overrun, as the former commanded all the wildlife in the area to attack, while the latter split the earth, which quaked the landmass when she formed a chasm. However, both Amazons were pushed to their limits.
Sweat poured down their bodies while they trembled. Shy murmured, “Can't...hold on...!”
“M-me either babe,” murmured a shaky Tree, as they continued to use the powers the Amazon Queen had awakened in them, and Fluttershy telepathically communicated with every animal at once within their radius. Tree collapsed after she opened up the continent with a whimper.
“We'll handle this,” said Cornelius, as he and the berserker bear rushed to aid the nearest Amazons. He whistled at their handiwork, impressed at what powerhouses they were, despite their soft appearances. Some of the caribou had fallen into the chasm, easily picked off by the arrows that fired into them. Others tried to climb up, and were swiftly cut down by the allies.
The bear's claws and teeth opened up caribou flesh. He, too, chopped into him with his machete.
With the time Flutteryshy and Tree Hugger bought them, they were able to even the odds for the moment, but the caribou numbers would soon be upon them in full-force. The small party of minotaurs here prepared to make their final stand with the couple hundred of Amazons present.
The sole upside was that the creature which hatched out had mysteriously vanished...
*****
A small detachment of caribou left behind met with the order. The army had mostly abandoned their camps, their main concern to crush any resistance with finality. Meals were left half-eaten, decks of cards and other belongings scattered across the emptied out settlement. A few of the captured holstaurs, Amazons, and female caribou were left in the stocks, ready to be exploited.
One of the caribou, seated on a bench, bounced a nude curvaceous holstaur on his lap and noisily suckled at one of her udders, while her cow ears flicked and her head tilted back, hazy eyes emptied while she released a continuous moo. Then, when a commander approached, he dropped her to the dirt when he stood and snapped his posture to attention, a milk mustache on his snout.
His boot pressed into her tity, which squirted dollops of lactation across the ground. “These whores sure live up to their reputation,” a soldier said as he relaxed. “So delicious! They keep us nourished! Why, I could drain the milkers of every last sow dry. I've never felt more alive!”
“It's not sufficient. We need more firepower,” one of the caribou commanders announced.
“You will have it,” reassured Trixie with a smile beneath her hood, flanked by Lavender and Fuchsia, with more of their order behind her. “Stay and witness! If you dare.” With a flourish, she outstretched a bare arm, which revealed her naked flesh as her robes were parted at the front.
Another of the caribou leered. “What do you have in mind?”
Trixie snickered back. “Don't worry. You'll have your pound of flesh.” She knew that to the male caribou, all females were lesser, to be conquered and tamed. But to their order, sex made little difference. All flesh was to be used and consumed in pursuit of their ultimate aims. The worship of the Necronomicon, and the deity-like entities connected to it, the so-called Elder Gods.
Her robed and hooded allies led in a number of eldritch abominations, locked down by chains. Grotesque creatures, a fusion of people, beast, insect, and monstrosities from beyond the mortal plane of existence. Bestial cocks were suspended below them, many covered in tentacles.
Another caribou took a step back and seized his spear. “What are those...?”
“Relax,” said Trixie. “Our order's experimentation has produced a variety of hybrids! Furthermore, we've learned how to make them 'compatible' with other species. Observe!” With a wider smile, the monstrosities were directed to rear up and mount the captive variety of fertile females here. “I'm sure you've already knocked them up! But these monsters can overwrite even caribou semen!”
“Blasphemous,” yelled the caribou commander. “You're supposed to help us spread our numbers!”
“And we will,” said Fuchsia, who took a bold step forward, a unicorn wand at the ready under the folds of her robes in case they needed to put them in their place. “But you need us, too.”
Lavender smiled coyly and added, “Consider this a trade! You've seen the 'Brutes', as you call them, the way we've made your Warbeasts even more fearsome! Well, these females will be turned into incubators that will produce 'abominations' that are far beyond what you've seen so far!”
“It all depends on the mother they mix with,” explained Trixie. “Imagine what a holstaur or Amazon hybrid would be like! Your armies will soon be unstoppable!” While she explained the plan, the monsters took their pleasures from the captive women, pushed twisted, barbed, and knotted cocks and tentacles into every fuckable orifice they could find to breed them raw.
Moans, whimpers, and slaps of flesh filled the air, as the monsters drooled and rammed into them without mercy or relent, the stocks shaken while they pounded into their subdued prey. A number of Warbeasts mounted the females too, considered free use when the caribou hadn't claimed them. Muscled hips rolled, breasts bounced, and buttcheeks were clapped by a wild blur of feral humps.
“Give it to the bitches,” a caribou yelled with a raised fist.
At the same time, the female cultists disrobed, their cloaks pooled at their feet to leave them completely nude. Within moments, the caribou beset them, cocks pressed into their holes while they brutalized their nubile bodies. Grunts, squelches, and wet slaps filled the air.
A caribou pulled Trixie's mane as he fucked her pussy and yelled, “Unf! Take our cocks!” They attempted to pound the cultists into submission, like they were the ones in control.
Trixie and her allies knew better. The tentacled entities in their wombs could snap caribou necks in a second. Not to mention they could easily blast them into meaty chunks. Yet for now, they played the servile allies, allowing the males to take their pleasure from them. She knew most of them couldn't think without their dicks involved, which made them pathetically easy to manipulate.
She and her old friends turned sidekicks, Lavender and Fuchsia, were offered no quarter, their mouths, pussies, and assoles impaled at once by caribou cock. Their males were selectively bred over time, to the point the sizes of their members were almost a match for a typical minotaur. Each was their pride, a symbol of their masculinity, virile and flushed with excess testosterone.
Many of them could fuck for hours, indoctrinarted by their fathers to spread their seed far and wide, with the promise that one day their kind would wipe the males from every rival race wiped out of existence. They kissed the mares, pulled their hair and tails. Groped and spanked them,
The poor fools probably believed they could knock them up, unaware the parasitic entities in them rendered them sterile. Nevertheless, they were cummed in and on numerous times. Cocks were slapped across their faces, poked and rubbed into their bodies while they were traded and used.
Gentle didn't exist in male caribou vocabulary, fuckholes stretched, skewered, rammed, and ruined. Gaped out and sluiced dense puddles of cum, before another cock pushed into an open hole. Trixie, Lavender, Fuchsia, and the other cultists accept the treatment without complaint, helping stroke off more presented dicks that weren't buried in their orifices with both their hands and their auras.
“F-fuck!” A caribou cried out when a silky, aura construct shaped like a tight pussy surrounded his shaft and vibrated. He shook and unloaded all over Trixie's already messed up face. She and her sidekicks stuck out their tongues whenever they weren't filled and took a load to the face, swished and chewed on the hot spunk that painted them, their perverse lust offered to the deities they worshiped. Creatures beyond mortal comprehension, who could drive mankind insane.
Through the use of the dark arts, not only could the order ensure the prisoners would be impregnated, but that the abominations that developed in their wombs would mature rapidly. With their incubators, they would raise a new, horrific army to demolish the alliance.
Unknown to everyone else, the order knew how to ride the cosmic storm, and used it to travel the multiverse, much like a race of aliens that also worshiped the Necronomicon, known as the Eldritch, once did before their defeat by Beatrix Belladonna and her allies. With this travel method, the legend of the 'Cult of the Nemesis' spread throughout each universe and their doomsday religion. Entire universes had fallen through their efforts, but there were countless others.
Beatrix had been meant to spread their influence. Their 'Dark Messiah', hostess of the Demiurge which lived inside her, for a time worshipped by the Eldritch, but the 'Wandering Witch' had turned her back on fate. Nonetheless, disaster continued to follow in her wake, no matter how Beatrix tried to balance the cosmic scales, to save the multiverse and make up for her very existence.
Once, Trixie supported her daughter, before the order invaded her Equestria, forcefully indoctrinated her, Fuchsia, and Lavender. Now, the zealot would show Beatrix her destiny...
*****
Flames roared behind the nude witch, who calmly strode away from the battlefield, while caribou, Amazons, and minotaurs fell in the wake of all-out warfare. Already, more of the minotaur and Amazon armies arrived to support them, much as could be spared without their territories left completely undefended. Yet she took little notice of this, the witch stuck in her reverie.
“Beatrix. Why does that name sound so familiar...?” She could picture a face similar to her own, recall her faintly. With a hand raised, she studied her palm. “Am I her reincarnation?”
Her eyes looked skyward, her vision amplified when she focused. She could see, amidst the seas of stars, the cosmic trails that waited to touch down on what she sensed was a doomed world.
“Whose side am I supposed to be on? Maybe that's for me to decide. I'll define who I am and serve no master,” she announced to herself, and closed her hand into a fist. Then, she ran her palms down her curves, shuddered at the pleasure from her slow caresses. “This flesh, this power, is mine alone.”
Thus, she would leave all sides to their fate. She needed to escape this world and survive.
First, she lit up her horn and arced her bare breast, eyes closed when she summoned up prismatic threads around her with a quiver of her breasts, thighs, and buttocks, the ethereal thread woven into place, restricted around her flesh when she wove her own costume, based loosely on Beatrix's, with a slim bikini-styled top and bottom, a garter belt, and thigh-high boots that ended in stiletto heels. Fingerless gloves also came to her upper arms, and a pointy hat decorated her head. Garbed in what she believed epitomized sensuality and mysterious allure, she wryly smiled to herself.
“It's perfection,” she told herself. “But must I walk this path alone? Don't many witches have familiars?” She tried to recollect a murky past, and saw the faint faces of her friends. One in particular drew her attention. “Mini-Trix,” she recalled, Beatrix's tulpa, a child-like version of herself. One that had later been reborn as 'Demi-Trix'. With her magic, she could recreate her. Make her better!
A phantasmal sphere evolved in a palm she opened, a portion of her own power extracted, which she released before her and breathed life into through willpower. An entity started to take shape before her wondrous eyes, its dimensions manipulated by her imagination. A unicorn mare materialized before her, the woman much shorter than her but no less buxom.
She otherwise cloned the familiar from herself, naked at first when her assets bounced into existence, before she wrapped her too in a similar costume, complete with a wide-brimmed pointy hat. Her familiar wildly looked around, as she tried to make sense of her sudden existence.
With a stroke of her chin she wondered aloud, “Now what do I call you? For that matter, what do I call myself?” She mulled it over. “I suppose that can always be decided later. Follow me.”
“O-okay!” Her smaller double ran to keep up with her strides.
The pair of them headed where she felt compelled to instinctively travel. The eye of the cosmic storm, set to eventually touch down the moment this Equestria started to crumble.
*****
Zafire Heart's broadsword swept across the ranks of the caribou, cut them down in showers of blood and viscera which she blocked with the mystic barrier she summoned. She'd rushed to the frontlines, sailed on her spread plume to zip past her allies, and took the enemy head on. She didn't care about the risks or the odds, only that she knew it was up to her to protect her companions.
Even the Brutes and Warbeasts proved no match for her. Yet she couldn't hold them all off at once, as the hordes spilled past her while she executed many of them, and knew that eventually, even an ancient alicorn's reserves would waver. She calculated they were outnumbered a dozen to one.
The clash of metal, the war cries and screams, filled the queen's ears.
From the corner of her eye, while she continued to carve apart caribou, she spotted a solitary robed and hooded figure in the distance. Garbed in gray, a dragon's snout peeked out from the hood, the frame muscular, with hands hidden in the folds of the sleeves. Yet she recognized the founder of the Order of Reapers from ancient times. “Grayscale Carnifex. The neutral executioner.”
His reapers collected souls across the multiverse, and helped them pass to their proper places in the afterlife. No wonder he'd be drawn to a bloody battlefield, like a vulture! The drake turned in a muted smirk with a visible chuckle that shook him, almost like he mocked her burdens!
Another powerful player is here,” she bitterly mused, as she dismembered another Brute. She slayed one warrior after another over the hour, feeling her powers slowly start to diminish.
No one else appeared to see the reaper. Not even when he blinked away, then reappeared not far from her, while she stepped over a corpse and struck down a Warbeast, which whimpered. “Go away,” she hissed, distracted by his presence while she continued to demolish her adversaries.
Carnifex answered, “And why should I? I'm only here to help, my dear.”
“Help yourself, you mean. Isn't it against your creed to interfere with mortal affairs? Your domain is the supernatural alone, the ferryman of the dead. I believe they once called you Charon,” she surmised, and her blade barely blocked a Brute's own broadsword, which knocked her off-balance.
He chuckled in a deep, mirthful manner. “I've been known by many names! Even I can't recall them all.” The drake's face turned more pensive. “But this is beyond even us. There are entities out there that have shattered the delicate cosmic balance. I can't afford to remain neutral anymore. Unfortunately, this version of Equestria is already condemned by fate. We cannot save it!”
She snarled, parried and countered more attacks from all sides. “What, then? I leave everyone here to die? The Amazons I've taken in like they're my own family? The minotaurs and holstaurs?”
“I may be able to save them. Anyone still alive when the cosmic storm descends will be healed when they exit this world, but until then, you must keep them safe! I cannot interfere directly, or I fear the architects behind the destruction of the multiverse will locate me! And without me, this world will collapse much faster! Buy me time, and I promise you, I'll save whoever I'm able to!”
Zafira contemplated her options for a moment. “...deal. Now, leave me!”
Chezka, who was nearby, twitched her sharp ears while the centaur archer fired off arrows, her face drawn in confusion as she'd overheard parts of the conversation over the bedlam. “My queen?”
“Draw back,” backed Zafire at her Amazons. “Defensive formation!”
“As you command,” answered Chezka, who drew a special arrow, aimed at the sky, and fired it off. The missile exploded like fireworks that howled and lit the sky to signal her fellow Amazons, where they snapped to obey, forced to hunker down near the overfilled crater of inky blackness.
Panna murmured back, “Are you sure this is a wise idea? We don't have an escape route!” Blood soaked half of the fawn's face, as she huffed, red-soaked knives in both her hands.
“Not much choice,” added Cornelius, his own machete stained. Behind the Amazon Queen in the lead, the elite Amazons formed a defensive wall, and minotaurs fell into step with them in an attempt to hold off the caribou advance. He wondered,”What's her plan? We're doomed at this rate!”
“She must have her reasons,” reassured Panna softly, as brother-and-sister warred side-by-side with their knives. “Siege tactics. We have to hold out until reinforcements arrive!”
Cornelius replied, “That could take hours! If they're even headed here!”
“Have faith,” shouted Chezka firmly as she snarled and tossed her emptied quiver off her. One of her hooves kicked out, crushed the knee of a caribou, who screamed and went down. She took up one of the downed enemy's spears, galloped into action with a series of war cries and drove the tip into another caribou's heart. He shook and died, as she withdrew the spear and resumed her attack.
The three of them helped their allies desperately attempt to hold the line.
With their defensive wall, their forces took down many of the caribou for every friendly lost, but Zafire continued to be worn down, and knew that the moment her stamina was tapped out, everyone behind her would be overrun and slaughtered by sheer numbers and ferocity. The burden of responsibility fell on her, as Redrum and Moon Hammer also did their best to support her.
Despite her weakened state, Fluttershy's birds were sent out to ferry messages to potential reinforcements, the caribou's own archers unable to shoot each one down, especially since more of her animal friends tore into the caribou, her pet bear included. Her desperate pleas for aid reached both the Amazon camp and minotaur compound, as reinforcements raced to arrive in time...
*****
Equestria's death rattle sounded. The planet's roe started its collapse first. Violent winds howled, and the earth fractured from the quakes, the seas tumultuous. The doomsday cult's aims had come to pass. Trixie, Lavender, and Fuchsia lost track of how many times the caribou had stretched, ruined, and came in all their fuckholes, their eyes lit up with wonder at the world's imminent end.
A caribou that fucked her turned his head skyward. “What in the hell is-” A knife flashed in an acolyte's hand, his throat opened as he came in Trixie's cunt. Sacrificial knives flashed as the order moved in, drove their blades into the caribou before they knew what had happened.
“B-betrayers,” cried a commander, cut off when a knife exited his heart from a backstab.
“You've served your purpose,” Trixie announced, when the caribou that impaled her asshole also died, the bodies slumped off when she stood, soaked in blood, sweat, and cum. Fuchsia and Lavender were the same, while caribou were sacrificed to aid in their master's ritual.
“Die,” screamed Fuchsia. “Die for the sake of our order!”
Lavender cast back her mane. “A shame you have to perish! You weren't bad in the sack...!”
“I'll miss their cocks,” said Fuchsia, who kicked a carcass in the side. “The rest of 'em, not so much!”
They would ride the cosmic storm away from the doomed planet, leaving the inhabitants to perish. The hybrid beasts and the women would be taken with their order, to serve the rest of their lives as incubators, where a similar process would repeat in the next Equestria they traveled to.
The cosmic storm started to manifest overhead, blossomed out like a rainbow, ready to ferry their numbers away whenever it finally touched down. Surrounded by the corpses of the cut down caribou, the onlookers awaited the imminent doomsday, the cult naked, arms spread out wide.
*****
Elsewhere, the mysterious mare and her familiar also took notice of the phenomenon.
Her eyes could make out the rifts in the cosmic storm, where windows into innumerable, alternate versions of Equestria flashed before their eyes. She slowed down the sprawl with her enhanced perception, took note of the possible planets she could escape to. But for whatever reason, one in particular called to her. The 'Cyberverse', she somehow knew it was named for its advanced tech.
“That's who I'll be,” she decided. “Poly-MaTrix. This is where I'm meant to exist. And you, smaller one, shall be MediaTrix, my mediator that heralds me wherever I travel.” She patted her familiar's wide-brimmed cone hat. “It's time we left this land behind us, before it falls!”
MediaTrix looked behind her with a frown. “But all those people will die!”
“It's fate. I couldn't save them all, even if I cared to. Innumerable universes will be snuffed out before this is over. But pieces will survive, and be used to construct new planets. Perhaps some portions of this world will survive, no matter how slim the chances may be. Now, come!”
“I-I'm sorry!” MediaTrix's eyes watered, when she took a last, melancholy look back at the world she'd been 'birthed' into mere hours before. Entire chunks of the land started to be torn up in the distance. Gravity went awry, chunks of rock and earth tossed up where they floated.
A cosmic trail swirled down. Like a rainbow bridge of legend, Poly-Matrix's stiletto heels took the first step onto it, and she took her familiar's hand to lead her up. Her timing would have to be precise, to reach the 'Cyberverse' amongst the countless universes that made up the multiverse. With precision, she leaped into the void with MediaTrix, who cried out in surprise.
*****
Armies were torn apart with the collapse of reality. The planet should have died quickly and violently, but true to his word, the 'God-like' founder of the Order of Reapers, Grayscale Carnifex, used his ancient, arcane powers to try and maintain the planet's equilibrium. Yet he could only slow its inevitable descent, and it would be up to Zafire Heart to try and lead her allies into the rift.
Bloodied and bruised, as her magic reserves were all but tapped out, Zafira's swings were slower, but relief filled her when horns sounded to announce the reinforcements. More Amazons and minotaurs poured onto the battlefield. Caribou ranks were broken from behind, trapped and pinned by the evened out odds. For a moment, the Amazon Queen was filled with hope.
Then, the world's death rattle reached them. More pandemonium broke out, while the lands split and caved in, people on all sides were plucked from the earth and tossed about.
Moon Hammer cried, “No!” He watched helplessly as a chasm swallowed up part of his army.
The Amazons and caribou fared no better, many of them hurled about or crushed by the natural disasters that started to consume the planet. Somewhere, the 'Cult of the Nemesis' laughed at them all, their caribou pawns used to thin their numbers, and speed the corruption and decay of this universe. Once more, a world formed from a patchwork of other planets was torn apart, and what survived would be reassembled with portions from other planets in yet another universe.
“It can't end like this,” seethed Moon Hammer.
“Not much we can do son,” replied Redrum, the pair of them forced to hunch down so they didn't fall. “How about that telescope? Can you see the cosmic storm from here?”
The blacksmith raised the scope to an eye. “Y-yeah. Maybe that's our chance! But there's no way to save everyone! How many thousands will die, while we save our own skin like cowards?”
“Hard choices,” replied Redrum, but at least the war had mostly been put on halt by the bedlam. The red-furred bull winced, as a heavy stone, thrown by the winds, smashed one of his legs to a pulp. The minotaur crumpled and whimpered a hiss, trapped in place by the small boulder.
The blacksmith yelled, “Hold on!” He strained his scrawny muscles to try and push the boulder, but found it wouldn't budge an inch. “No use! I'll have to smash it!” He raised his war hammer.
“No time! Save yourself,” demanded Redrum, as the landmass threatened to yawn open.
Not far from them, Chezka tumbled when a pit opened. The centaur screamed when she hit the rock bottom in the darkness below, felt the bones in her ankles snap on impact. Panna and Cornelius yelled for her, tried to carefully climb down and scramble to help her.
Panna landed on her deer hooves by her and also tipped over. “H-how bad is it?”
Chezka winced and swallowed back tears of pain. “I...I'll live,” she told them, but already, she wondered whether even the medicine women could fix her, whether she'd ever walk again. Delirious, her head swam, and her spiky ponytail had come loose from all the chaos.
“I'll try and mend it,. This will hurt,” warned Panna as she squatted down.
“I can take it,” reassured Chezka, who hissed out a pain moan when Panna touched her ankles and tried to set her bones with what the medic had available. “A-are they...?”
“All broken,” confirmed Panna. At least from within the pit, the tremors were much more subdued. Her brother helped her, as he tore strips from his clothes.
“We're all fucked,” muttered Cornelius.
“Don't be so pessimistic,” said Panna, her mouth drawn. “I can't lose you after I found you! You either, Chezka! You're my best friend!” She swiftly worked to patch her up best as she was able.
Distracted by the skay pit and all the noise around them, even their pointy ears didn't pick up the sound of a caribou Brute's feet when he landed in the burrow. He leered at the two females, his eyes set on the crippled Chezka in particular, with only scant resistance between his fertile prizes.
His muscular arm hurled a javelin at his target. Cornelius snapped to his attention as he caught the glint of metal, twisted to try and avoid the missile, which missed his heart which it was aimed at...but he felt the weapon sink into his belly, choking on the coppery blood that filled his mouth.
“Brother!” Panna went for a knife at her belt, but the Brute was already upon her, and he backhanded her across the face, the blade knocked from her hand with a rattle. Meaty fists tore the clothes from Panna's body, her breasts spilled out with a bounce amidst the tatters.
She writhed and kicked her hooves at him when he seized her throat and lifted her up. Chezka, her spear lost when she'd fallen, threw a punch at him despite the agony that nearly made her black out, which he chortled at and knocked aside. His free fist also tore the clothes from the centaur, her heavy tits also flopped into the open. Already, his palm seized Chezka's closest titty and squeezed.
“Bastard,” hissed Chezka, so weak and dizzy she could barely resist.
“W-we'll all die,” whimpered Panna, despite his hand around her throat as she sputtered.
“I'll kill you,” snarled Cornelius, who crawled shakily across a pool of his own warm, sticky blood, and reached for his machete, ready to sever the penis and testicles from the rapist.
The Brute chortled harder. “You're still alive? I'll rape your women, after I've crushed your skull, you impotent, sissy bitch ass punk!” He raised a heavy boot, and Panna screamed and turned away, unable to watch as her beloved brother's head was about to be caved in without mercy.
Instead, the Brute bellowed. An aura wrapped around his testicles, crushed them to a red mess. He spun and almost fell to face his assailant, as Zafira sailed down, and her broadsword sank into the caribou's skull. His eyes sank upwards, and the slain titan collapsed in his own filth.
“Hold on,” called Zafira to Cornelius. “You can survive this! When the cosmic storm hits, and we're transported to another universe, our wounds will be healed! Unfortunately...” She decided not to finish her sentence, aware that unlike her, it was unlikely any of those present that lived would be able to hold onto their memories. Her Amazons, the minotaurs, even the caribou, anyone involved would have these events stripped from their mind, unlike her and Grayscale Carnifex.
“I-I'll try,” mumbled Cornelius weakly, as he momentarily blacked out.
Panna sniffled and held his shaky hand. “You have to live! I've already lost you once...!”
Chezka nodded firmly. “You'll live! Our queen is never mistaken! Remember what we all shared mere days before?” She seized his free hand, pressed the bloody palm to cup one of her sizable tits to motivate him. Surrender, and this is what you'll miss! Don't you want to have me some more?”
He chuckled weakly as his hold sank into the warm, supple titflesh. “Y-yeah. I do.”
“Good,” answered Chezka, her own eyes moist as she held his palm to her pinched breast. By now, Cornelius had snapped off the spear in his midsection, pale but stabilized as he sat on the rocky floor. The centaur perked up with life. “My queen! You promised Panna and I power!”
Panna continued to staunch her brother's bleeding and said, “You mean once we become full Amazon elites? But to do that, we'd...”Her cheeks colored at the memory of when they'd last made love.
Zafira said, “I'm not sure this is the time-”
“Do it! Please,” pleaded Chezka with hot tears. “I want to die a full, proud Amazon sister!”
Despite the circumstances, the crystal alicorn felt her horsecock twitch at the idea below her loincloth, excited by the prospect, perhaps since she knew they might not make it. She didn't know whether it would even take were she to finish, since their memories could soon be stripped.
Perhaps it was foolish. But Zafire Heart didn't care anymore. She tossed her clothes away, positioned herself behind the centaur's wide, round, and toned white asscheeks. Gently, she slid into her velvet-soft and moist pussy, and Chezka moaned from a mix of pain and pleasure from her broken hooves, which soon wouldn't matter, were they able to survive the world's end.
She held Chezka's hips and buttcheeks, develiered slow, firm strokes into her depths. They didn't have much time to waste, so Zafire crushed her lips to Chezka's craned back face, possessivly kneaded the centaur's ass and titties while she fucked her raw to speed her release.
“C-cum in me my queen,” pleaded Chezka as she winked around her.
Normally, Zafira would've preferred to take her time and savor her lover, but she needed to work fast, and so she pulled every trick she could think of to help speed her climax. Her firm hips clapped horsecheeks as she talked dirty to her to speed her climax. “Unf! Take all of my cock and my cum!”
“Y-yes~!” Chezka squealed, winked around her horsecock and squirted all over her lap. Pushed to her limit, Zafira shook and fired off into her horsecunt, too, her hands sunk into her butt and a tit.
“Me next,” pleaded Panna as the nude fawn crawled over to her queen.
A pop sounded when Zafire withdrew, the last couple shots of her load rained across Chezka's back and horsecheeks, where they slid between the slope of her asscrack, slathered all over the centaur's puckered rectum and down a pussy that oozed thick dollops of spunk and female lubricant.
“My turn,” whined Panna, who presented herself on all fours in submission to their queen, and shook her more slender, but still heart-shaped ass before Zafira. Quickly, she found herself mounted too and squealed, with the hopes her queen's seed would activate some hidden potential in the pair, like she had for Shy and Tree once they'd reached elite status and been bred silly.
The fawn's arms were pulled behind her while she was taken more fiercely, whatever wounds she had so minor that Zafire didn't have to claim her so tenderly, but with all the dominance she could muster. Joyous tears rolled down Panna's cheeks as she screamed her pleasure, her medium-sized tits bounced and swayed with each impact each time a blur of Zafire's hips clapped her cheeks.
She stretched her open. Fucked her to the core, Panna's belly a tad distended by horsecock.
Zafire hissed while she slammed into her bouncy buttcheeks, “Is it too painful?”
“I can handle it! I'll heal! We live to serve you! Fuck me into submission, my queen...!” Panna, too, drenched her mistress, and soon, she felt Zafira's horsecock, which had broken past her cervix, flare and impacted the slimy walls of her uterus directly with thick load-after-load of virile cum.
The fawn almost fainted from pleasure overload, drooled and shook on the cock that impaled her. Her stomach swelled out, her own backside marked by more cum when Zafira pulled out.
Panna huffed and heaved her sweaty tits. “D-did it work, my queen?”
“I don't know,” admitted Zafira, whose dick was still wet and half-erect. Like with Shy and Tree, she saw the rune-like 'womb tattoos' materialize across the bellies of Chezka and Panna, two of them for the centaur, for her human and horse portions. The marks hummed and shimmered.
“It's about to take effect,” whispered Chezka in wonder.
“Maybe I'll unlock a power that can heal you brother,” desperately hoped Panna.
“That...would be swell,” he mumbled sleepily, barely conscious. Their eyes turned skyward from the chasm, watched the cosmic storm start its spread across the area. “Maybe we'll make it, after all.” He chuckled weakly, clutched his hand back over Panna's, while Equestria fell apart.
Already, Zafire Heart could feel the storm's effects. To avoid paradoxes, reality would rewrite itself where necessary in an attempt to preserve a universal, delicate balance. To enter a newly born world, it would attempt to erase and rewrite the memories of everyone presented, but she resisted it.
She would remember her Amazons! The minotaurs and holstaurs! Even her bitter enemies, the caribou! She would not let them all surrender quietly to non existence, like she feared what may have once happened to her own bloodline, who had mysteriously been erased from history...!
*****
Grayscale Carnifex, ever the observer like his Order of Reapers, sworn to neutrality to preserve the multiverse. Like the Cult of the nemesis, his influence spread across innumerable worlds, where his reapers ferried souls. But the architects of universal destruction had forced the drake's hands. To slow the decay of entropy, he was forced to remain in one place, his entire will required.
Beads of sweat rolled down his temple when he concentrated. He was perched atop a watchtower in the minotaur compound, unseen by the bulls and cows below, who desperately scurried about in an attempt to save themselves. One of the compound's sturdy walls caved in with a crash.
Milky Mountains wobbled on her feet. “What do we do?”
“Take cover,” offered Creamy Canyons, also at a loss due to the natural disasters.
The bulls arrived to protect their women, oblivious to another threat on the way. Blasts of magic struck out, downed several of the minotaurs and watchtowers in prismatic waves fired off from unicorn horn wands. The cultists rushed in, determined to claim more sacrifices.
Unfortunately, the minotaurs had been forced to leave their territories with minimal defenses to deal with the flood of caribou, but still, Moon Hammer's mechanized sentries moved to aid the warriors left behind. Weapons were taken up, ballistas manned to repel the acolytes.
The cult's twisted beasts also attacked, feral and driven by baser instincts. Milky yelped when one of the abominations pounced on her, her cowprint bikini torn away by his razor teeth, his tentacles encircled around her voluptuous udders, milk sprayed out when he mounted and pounded her holes with his multitude of cocks, his bestial, muscled body used to keep her pinned.
A moo escaped her while she was stretched and ravished, her spotted asscheeks clapped each time her knotted pussy and asshole were skewered deep and left her a shaky, wet mess.
Creamy, who'd taken up a shovel and bashed in the skull of a cultist from behind with a snarl in an attempt to reach and save her friend, fared no better when another hybrid slammed into her side. She, too, found her own bikini torn away, shoved onto her back and her ankles lifted to the sides of her heads by tentacles. When the beast reared up she snarled, “Damned cur...!”
He slammed into her fertile fuckholes, mashed and squeezed her udders, sweet warm milk splayed across her face and her own more caramel-colored asscheeks clapped as she was pounded hard.
A similar fate befell many other holstaurs, the minotaurs too few in numbers to defend them all, especially since the order had prepared for this moment. Their main concern was to protect their calves, which they had locked in reinforced caverns below the earth. Outmatched by sheer volume from the cultists that poured in, the compound seemed doomed to fall at any moment.
Grayscale knew he couldn't sit on the sidelines anymore. He opened his snouted, breathed a cone of flame from the watchtower that enveloped one of the hybrids, which thrashed as it was immolated. The attack rendered him visible to the cultists, but he'd already puffed up his belly and launched a different breath attack, this time an icy one that flash-froze the torched hybrid and the cultists that rushed his way, whereupon steam rose with a hiss from the blackened area.
Leather wings, six in total, exploded from the dragon's back when he rocketed up from the watchtower, which blew apart from magic cast by the wands. He rained back devastation from overheard, careful not to harm the compound's inhabitants while he picked off their enemies.
Lavender cried, “Who is that?”
“A dead man,” shouted Fuchsia, while she too took aim.
Trixie narrowed her eyes and realized, “He's the one that's slowed this world's destruction! I can feel the power that radiates from him! But he can't hope to save every last person here!”
Indeed, Carnifex, the ancient executioner turned ferryman of souls, knew it was impossible. But with Zafire's help, it was already done. The cosmic storm, which blanketed across the entire world, could be manipulated by his will. Just like how the Eldritch and Cult of the Nemesis used the storm to travel. Now, he mentally attempted to direct it, down on the lands below.
The ethereal prisms swooped down, funneled by his mind into tornado-like tunnels, scooped up whatever minotaurs and holstaurs he could find, where they were sucked up by the rifts and deposited to other worlds. Ones that were likely eventually doomed to, but he'd buy them time.
Fuchsia screamed, “Stop him! Those are ours!”
“I can't even hit him,” cried lavender, who fired zap-after-zap at the skyborn drake.
Trixie stomped a foot in frustration, uncertain where their potential sacrifices would be sent. However, she comforted herself with the knowledge that most of them would likely end up in the newborn world, one that would be composed from other doomed planets, like this one.
From the dimensional nexus, Carnifex could see a preview of this world. A collage where he spotted a place where the ponies battled the changelings, a kaleidoscope that would soon be overwritten by the new arrivals to an extent. A place which had been destabilized in part by Beatrix Belladonna.
Trixie, too, realized this. She sensed her dear little hellspawn would surely return to the scene of unintentional crime, Beatrix's own Prima Materia able to reshape reality to an extent!
Across this Equestria, the planet started to crack and split in half. Amidst the Apocalyptic scene, the cosmic storm crashed down, not only people, but entire places scooped up and desposited elsewhere. Zafire Heart too bore witness, her followers torn away from her.
“Concentrate on me,” she called to Panna and Chezka. “Think of your queen...!”
“Brother,” cried Panna, as Cornelius was ripped away from her, into the solar winds.
He yelled back, “I'll find you!” Then, he vanished into the skies. Panna and Chezka were also thrown upwards, Zafira the only one here able to resist the supernatural pull. Somehow, she would reunite with them. But eventually, she, too, was forced to let the storm take her, lest she die with Equestria.
Epilogue
At the world's end, Grayscale Carnifex manipulated the cosmic storm the best he was able, to make sure he deposited whoever he could into the newborn planet, partially composed from an Equestria filled with the threat of the changelings. Unfortunately, the memories of most survivors had been stripped away in an instant, himself, Zafire Heart, and the Cult of the Nemesis exempted. The few caribou that escaped the doomed planet were soon dispatched by the ponies, the swarm, or the cultists in this other Equestria, put down the moment they attempted to rise up in conquest.
That aside, Zafira wouldn't find herself so different from the old world. She and her Amazons that survived took shelter in another forest. Of Fluttershy and Tree Hugger, they found no sign, nor could the Amazon Queen locate Cornelius, and kept the truth of their memory loss from her people, Chezka and Panna included. Disturbed, she withdrew to look after her followers.
Moon Hammer, Redrum, Creamy, Milky, and a number of other minotaurs and holstaurs found themselves in a villa. Thankfully, their calves were safe in the underground shrines, and with no knowledge of exactly how they'd come to be in this strange new world, they started to rebuild. They too secluded themselves from the native ponies, uncertain whether to trust them.
For the moment, the order kept a low profile. But they would soon form an alliance with the changeling swarm.
Grayscale Carnifex looked upon this new land, partially of his own creation, with an ambivalent smile. Other races and people were also displaced here, to discover their own way.
He protected the planet's stability from the shadows, and retreated from the cult's eyes. From his estimation, this planet could last many years, were he able to maintain its balance.
In the Amazon camp, hidden in the deepest parts of the forest, the huntresses honed their skills under the direction of their queen. Zafire Heart looked upon them with a certain melancholy, not only because their memories of their time spent with her in the last world were lost, but she'd been able to save less than half of her forces on the trip here, many of her elites included.
Had the rest been left to die with the last world? Were they erased from existence? Or were they scattered across this Equestria, and possibly befell the horrors of the changeling swarm or the cultists? She would probably never know, and it haunted her every time she slumbered.
In her private abode, seated on a throne carved from crystalline, she sat naked with her legs spread wide, her hands threaded throughout Chezka's and Panna's hair while they serviced her thick, runny horsecock with their lips. They too were stripped, and to her unspoken disappointment, her attempt to awaken their true potential hadn't taken, nor did it no matter how often she bred them.
Were the rules in this world different? Or had she weakened once she crossed over...?
She dreaded the possibilities, and left her followers in the dark as to what she'd been capable of. Her hope was that she could reclaim her power, so she trained relentlessly to prevent another tragedy. All the while, the pair moaned, kissed around, and suckled on her thick, drippy horsemeat.
Panna and Chezka lifted their breasts, wrapped them around her vein-lined shaft, their supple slopes smeared in Zafira's precum and their own saliva. She cast back her head, filled their mouths and painted their faces and tits in her dense, virile loads, which they accepted as a compliment.
Still covered in cum, Panna smiled at her. “How else can we serve you, queen?”
“You know how,” said Chezka with a side-smirk, as the duo of Amazons turned away, still on their knees, and went to all fours, where they presented themselves face-down and ass-up, ready to be routinely fucked as Zafira secretly attempted to awaken their hidden potential each day.
It had become a ritual, as Zafira smirked and tenderly but possessively patted their heart-shaped, pressed side-to-side asses, their holes on display and ready to be taken. It always surprised her how limber and nubile her well-toned and trained Amazon beauties were. “You're too kind to me,” she murmured, and lined herself up behind them, uncertain which to start with first.
Her hands ran up-and-down their supple flesh. She sank deep into their offered holes. Made them cry out whenever they drenched her with their own liquid arousal, happy to be used by her.
She pounded them until they were a sloppy, cum-filled mess, sprawled half-conscious across her floor. Their asses were red and sore, their cheeks furiously clapped for hours. They leaked their seat and their own lust all over, their breasts left to heave, their faces drawn in stupefied ecstasy.
Still no 'Womb tattoos', to her muted disappointment.
Somehow, someday, she would reclaim what she used to be. Until then, she would continue to marshal and rebuild her forces, aware there were other women out there to be recruited to her cause. For now, she stayed out of the local conflicts, but eventually she'd have to intervene.
When, she wondered with a pained expression, would the last star burn out...?
Author's Note
These events are followed up in Prisoners of War: A Beatrix Belladonna Tale.
