In front of him lay the cocoon—the same one from inside the creature's throat. Still beating. Still pulsing. It was alive.

"There's no way…" Finn muttered, frozen in horror.

It rested among a few smaller creature corpses, not far from the giant wing. The cords he had pulled still dangled from it, thin and fragile, like an umbilical cord from a newborn—barely attached.

"Stop staring at that thing and focus on me!" Majestria's ass wiggled aggressively on his shoulders, forcing him deeper into the mud. "The only thing that matters is you apologizing to me!"

"No! What's really important is that thing ahead of us!" Finn struggled to rise beneath her crushing weight.

"Are you questioning my authority?!"

"I am! How about you look forward for once instead of worrying about me!"

She finally glanced ahead. Her expression twisted into pure disgust and horror. Thighs clamped around the back of his head, pressing him further into the mud.

"AHH! LET ME GO!" Finn screamed muffled, flailing beneath her grip.

Majestria screamed over him, a high-pitched, chaotic counterpoint, and her voice carried across the battlefield. The other girls most likely, hearing the commotion.

"What is that thing?!" Majestria demanded, peering down at Finn's mud-smeared face. "Tell me! What is that thing?!"

Desperate, Finn pushed against her legs—but accidentally smeared mud onto Majestria's thighs in the process.

"AAAH! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" she shrieked, stomping down on his head repeatedly.

Finn tried to scramble away, but she pressed her full weight onto him, showing no sign of stopping.

By the time the others arrived, they were greeted by a nightmare on two fronts: the pulsing cocoon slime thing and Majestria, mercilessly stomping Finn's head into the mud.

It was horrific, to say the least.

Seraphina was frozen in place, clutching her staff like she was watching a demon crawl out of hell. Lickthorn, of course, looked disturbingly aroused—whispering under her breath, "This is exactly like my fanfic of them…"

Isolde's shock, however, quickly turned into righteous fury.

Elise wasn't there yet, still casually walking her way over like nothing was happening, while Chestelle stumbled toward the scene—still covered in mud from being shoved earlier.

With a sharp motion, Isolde glided in, her fingers tracing the air. Invisible strings shimmered briefly in the sunlight before wrapping tightly around Majestria's thighs, yanking her down.

She crashed onto Finn's muddy back with the force of a divine meteor, driving him even deeper into the muck.

Finn let out a muffled "MMMPH!"—a mix between a cry of pain and a gurgle.

Majestria thrashed wildly like a cat tangled in yarn, her legs kicking, her divine breasts pressing awkwardly against Finn's back. It was both deeply unpleasant and… confusingly pleasant.

"GET THESE STUPID STRINGS OFF ME!" she screamed, flailing. "I'M TIRED OF ALL OF YOU—OH MY GOD WHAT IS THAT TOUCHING ME?!"

A chunk of slime had squished up under her fingernail, triggering an ear-splitting shriek.

"SOMEONE PLEASE HELP ME!" Finn cried, voice muffled into the mud.

Seraphina, completely panicked, looked around helplessly and started praying. "Dear Goddess, if you are listening, please save this man this mad woman sitting on him!"

Chestelle and Lickthorn rushed in to help, each grabbing one of Majestria's arms while Isolde kept the strings tight. Together, they tried to pull her off Finn, but Majestria kicked and thrashed, her heels repeatedly smacking against his back like divine percussion.

Chestelle lost her footing, stumbling in the mud. Lickthorn's grip slipped, and before anyone could react—

Majestria toppled forward face-first into the mud with a heavy splat.

Silence followed.

All eyes widened, even Isolde's—her hands frozen midair. The only sound left was the slow dripping of mud sliding off Majestria's hair.

Finn, meanwhile, just lay there in the mud, half-buried, broken, and emotionally defeated.

***

It was completely silent—until a bloodcurdling scream tore through the air.

It wasn't just any scream; it was the kind of sound a woman would make after watching her husband kill her kids and then turn toward her next. It was the sound of pure, divine horror.

Majestria thrashed violently, her movements explosive as she shattered the strings binding her body. Mud splattered in all directions like a swampy explosion.

Getting to her feet, she stood trembling—eyes wide and twitching like she'd just snorted powdered lightning. Her hands clawed through her muddy hair as she shrieked, "MY BODY! MY PERFECT DIVINE BODY IS RUINED!"

Finn, who was barely starting to rise from the ground, groaned as his back throbbed with pain. Before he could even straighten up—

Majestria screamed louder and stomped on him again. Hard.

"STUPID! STUPID! STUPID! STUPID!" she yelled, pounding her foot into his back with each word. "THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!"

Finn didn't even have the energy to respond. He just laid there, accepting his fate like a man who'd seen too much.

Finally, her foot slipped on the mud—sending her tumbling backward into the muck again with a wet splat.

Finn seized the chance of a lifetime.

Scrambling to his feet with the grace of a wounded duck, he stumbled and sprinted toward Isolde, screaming like he was fleeing from a serial killer.

"ISOLDE, HELP ME!"

Majestria was already pushing herself up, covered head to toe in mud. Her once divine white dress was now a crusty, streaked brown mess. She looked less like a goddess and more like a swamp creature having a mental breakdown.

Finn flung himself toward Isolde, arms out like a panicked toddler running to his mom. He grabbed her waist, eyes wide and glossy with tears.

"Keep her away from me, please!" he begged, his voice cracking.

Isolde looked down at him—now half-covered in mud from his touch—with a face torn between concern and disbelief.

"…Of course, Mister Finn," she said softly, giving him a protective stance. "I'll keep the crazy wench… away."

In-front of them, Majestria twitched, mud dripping off her hair as her divine pride evaporated into feral rage.

Her fingers stretched, curling slowly into fists. Mud dripped down her face, mixing with the glow of her furious eyes—two divine meteors burning with unholy rage. Her fists began to shimmer with divine energy. She was 100% pissed off—like a Greek god discovering someone forgot to pray for the 100th time.

She was mad.

"Hand over Finn," she growled, her voice low and predatory.

"I cannot do so," Isolde replied, standing firm. "Mister Finn has asked me to keep him away from you, and I will fulfill his wish. It is my duty."

Majestria's glowing eyes shifted toward Finn. "Is this true, Finn?"

Finn, still clinging to Isolde like a traumatized toddler, looked up at her with wide eyes and nodded rapidly. "Yeah, it's true! You stomped on me constantly! I literally said out loud I didn't want to be near you! I thought someone like you—a you know what—would've heard that!" His tone was sharp, dripping with wounded sass.

"Oh, I see," Majestria said calmly, nodding to herself as if she fully understood.

Finn sighed in relief. "So, are you—"

"I'M GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU!" she shrieked, her divine voice shaking the air.

Before she could pounce, Isolde flicked her wrist—thin strings coiling around Majestria's limb—like a snake. Binding her in place. The cords strained under the sheer power radiating from her body, ready to snap at any second.

"LICKTHORN!" Finn shouted desperately.

Immediately, Lickthorn whipped out her "wand." With unholy enthusiasm, she aimed and fired—blasting a jet of white liquid straight at Majestria's face.

It splattered across her mud-smeared cheeks, some getting in her mouth. She gagged and coughed, sputtering violently as the mix of brown and white dripped down her chin.

Lickthorn's face flushed crimson. She rubbed her thighs together and whispered breathlessly, "It's just like I imagined it… with Finn getting it all over her face…"

Ignoring that entirely, Finn yelled again, panicking. "CHESTELLE—DO THE THING!"

"What thing?"

"THE CHEST!"

"Oh!"

As if suddenly remembering, Chestelle sprinted forward, leapt into the air, and transformed mid-jump—turning into a giant wooden chest that slammed Majestria square in the forehead.

THUD!

The impact was brutal. Majestria's body crumpled backward into the mud with a heavy splash, completely knocked out.

Chestelle morphed back into her human form, landing beside the fallen goddess with her hands on her hips and a big grin. "Yay! Chestelle did good!"

Finn fell to his knees, shaking and exhausted. "Oh thank god… I'm alive…"

From the mud, Majestria's fingers twitched.

Looking down at Finn with a soft, worried gaze, Isolde asked gently, "Are you alright, Mister Finn?"

"I am anything but alright… but at least I didn't die again…" he muttered, letting out a shaky exhale.

When he moved, his back cracked loudly, the sound followed by a low moan and a whimper. "Ohhh, that felt good…" he murmured under his breath before slowly pushing himself upright.

Behind him, Seraphina stood frozen—staring wide-eyed at the aftermath like a rookie officer who'd just survived his first gunfight.

Finn dusted himself off, wincing at the soreness in his body. As he walked past Majestria's unconscious form lying down in the mud, his eyes narrowed. For a split second, he imagined doing something unspeakably petty.

'You are so damn lucky everyone's watching…'

Then—

Thump.

A pulse shook the ground beneath them.

Finn's head snapped toward the source, his body freezing up.

The beating came again, stronger this time—slow but heavy, like the heartbeat of something that shouldn't still be alive.

His expression darkened. "Oh no…" he whispered, eyes locked on the grotesque cocoon ahead.

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