Basil. Oregano. Mozzarella cheese, browned and stretched. Pepperoni cups, curled, holding parmesan flakes and hot sauce. Mushrooms and roasted garlic. Crust, with solid leopard spots underneath. The aroma fills the brick-walled dining room, its patrons observed by the Last Supper, never mind the unique addition of a slice of pepperoni pizza in Christ's right hand as Matthew and Jude Thaddeus argue with Simon the Zealot over whether pineapple belongs on pizza. Never mind Judas Iscariot pestering John the Apostle (not Mary Magdalene) and ruining a perfect meal. No, along the opposite wall are booths with faux leather cushions, patrons seated in each one, savoring the slices in their mouths.
Some college students wander about with jello shots in hand, while hungry patrons from the 8-Bit Bar next door pour in, hungry and severely inebriated. Everyone walking in the front door of Ricky's Late Night Slice is demanding a slice of pie, and who is the cashier to deny the city of Columbus a slice of pizza- never mind the four other locations downtown and near campus, while three more locations serve the suburbs of Franklin County? No, this is a special place of food and drink, one that everyone wants to succeed.
Beeps ring from the point of sale system as a chip fails to register, the cashier's dark braids swaying to her side as she hunches over the counter to look at the screen facing the customer. The cashier squints as the customer keeps pressing the blue card to the screen, prompting more beeps with no resolution, his fingers gripping the card tighter and tighter with each beep.
Sitting alone, a young woman rests her elbows on the tabletop, her deep blue eyes staring down at the half-eaten slice of roasted garlic and mushroom pizza held in her left hand. Folding the slice neatly in half, she brings it back up to her mouth, carefully avoiding touching the pizza to her neatly red-stained lips, her platinum blonde hair resting on her shoulders and falling a bit past her shoulder blades. Her lilac bodysuit goes from ankle to collarbone, the sleeves extending all the way to her hands, operating as attached fingerless gloves with a violet trim. The trim travels up the arms to the collar, descending down to a valentine on her chest, before resuming its stripe traveling down her midriff until it reaches her pelvis. To top it off, a cropped dark gray leather jacket rests open, the sleeves rolled up to reveal some of the trim on her forearms. The stripe, however, stretches wider on her abdomen than the rest of the stripes on her costume, the fabric being pulled by the distended flesh of her womb, her popped out belly button poking through the purple bodysuit.
Her painted purple fingernails start to lose some blue, a slight red glowing coming through, catching her attention as she chews her slice of pizza.
Putting down the pizza on a paper plate, the costumed woman looks at her fingertips, seeing the red glow in her fingertips as they start tingling. Her eyes, slightly tilting to purple, look at the counter, studying the visibly annoyed customer and cashier.
“There's no way someone can be that annoyed-”
Swinging open, the glass cracks on the front door as it slams into its own hinges, three men suddenly storming in, brandishing pistols. The man in the front rushes forward, a few hairs from a light brown beard visible in the mouth hole of his ski mask, shoving his elbow into the customer in front of the counter, immediately shoving his handgun in the cashier's face.
The cashier takes a cautious step back, throwing her hands up to the sky, “P-Please! We're cashless!”
“If you don't give us everything you–”
The gunman is suddenly cut off, a surge of red light clocking him in the jaw, throwing him into the cracked glass of the front door, shattering and falling down on him.
Trailing the opposite direction of the trajectory, the other two gunmen immediately point their firearms at the young woman sitting by herself as she drops her pizza crust onto her paper plate with her left hand, her right pointed at the front door, her index and middle fingers extended and glowing red.
“I know I'm supposed to let you finish your threat and tell you to surrender, but my ankles are a bit swollen right now, my back is killing me, and you're interrupting my dinner.” Her brow furrows as she aims her right hand at the other two gunmen, glaring at the robbers. Briefly gazing down at her left hand, she notices a yellow glow forming in her palm, “Damn it…” Her voice echoes in her mind as she looks across the dining room, finding patrons throwing their hands up and hiding under tables.
“You bitch! I'll kill you-”
Another bolt of red light flies across the dining room, slamming the yelling mugger in the left shoulder, forcing a wheeze out of the man as he falls back, his denim jacket incinerated at the impact point.
The other masked man immediately opens fire as a yellow square suddenly materializes in front of him, dissolving the bullet in midair. Screams grow louder in the dining room as he repeatedly pulls the trigger, each round disappearing into the yellow square.
The young woman steps out of the booth with her left hand raised, glowing with intense yellow light as her ill-fitting tan boots clap on the roughed up wooden floor, her bump swaying as she takes slow, cautious steps forward. A myriad of civilians hunker beneath tables and counters, slinking away from the gunman in a futile effort to distance themselves from danger. With every scream, the yellow square in front of the gunman grows brighter and more intense, the color growing more bold with each shot.
The slide on the pistol eventually catches on the stop after the eighth and final shot, empty clicking filling the air as the gunman lays into the trigger for nothing. Growling loudly, he starts to run around the yellow square as the gravid woman gets closer and closer, “I'm gonna kill you!”
Swinging his arm back, he throws the pistol to the side of the square, the gun rotating in midair as it travels for the purple-clad lady. However, her entire body is engulfed in orange, leaving a brief trail as she suddenly leaps onto a tabletop with unseen swiftness. Grunting loudly, she propels herself off the tabletop, extending her leg in front of her, the heel of the boot landing square on the gunman's nose. The robber falls back, the woman landing on top of him in a kneeling position, her left foot on his face, her right knee jabbing his ribs as she sandwiches him between herself and the hardwood floor.
Breathing heavily, the woman looks down past her rounded, heavily pregnant belly, seeing the man not moving under her boot or making sound, yet she still feels his chest rising and falling with breath. She looks over to the man she burned, noticing the redness of his fair skin, as well as a tattoo on his left bicep. She tilts her head curiously at the strange design, a large circle hanging off the top-right of a W.
Flash. Flash. Click. Click.
Blinking, the woman turns around, spotting people coming out from under the tables, a number of them holding their phones, some of which flash with audible clicks. Pictures, something she'd grown quite accustomed to.
Needing to say something, the platinum blonde looks around, so far not observing anyone hurt… well, no one worth protecting, at least. “Is anybody hurt?” She breathes heavily, resting a hand on top of her round belly as she slowly stands up.
No one seems to respond, before the cashier slowly rises up from behind the counter, “You're… you're Radiance, aren't you?” More employees start pouring out from the back, “I thought the costume was weird since there's no anime or comic thing at the convention center, but… you're really her?”
Flinching at the constant flashes, Radiance covers her eyes with her right hand, her left pressing into her lower back, “That's what everyone's been calling me… also, you can all turn the flash off. The lighting in here would be better by itself, if you really want the pictures.” She turns around to the rest of the civilians, and promptly notices the flashes rapidly slowing down, before eventually coming to a halt entirely, yet the clicks resume. Smiling now, she brings her right hand back to the top of her distended belly as she stands up, her right foot flat on the ground while her left remains on top of the third robber. Her left leg is bent slightly, a true huntress posing with her big game prey. Meanwhile, her entire body starts to envelope in a gentle pink glow, and she takes a deep breath in.
A young man adjusts his glasses, using his fingers to brush his shaggy black hair out of his face as he crawls out of cover. As he rises to his feet, he looks down at the second robber's tattoo, “Wait, isn't this-”
Sirens erupt outside, catching everyone's attention, especially Radiance.
“Sorry, everyone, I'm kinda not supposed to be doing… this… without a license or whatever they give out.” Her tan boots clap on the ground as she hurriedly waddles out of the pizzeria, initially looking at the sign for the 8-Bit Bar as she steps outside. The pink glow intensifies, and her heels slowly lift from the ground, before her toes eventually pull away, her entire body moving up. The pink aura remains behind, slowly fading with distance as she levitates higher and higher into the air, drawing crowds onto the sidewalk. Spotting flashing red and blue lights approaching, she immediately bolts westward, flying over downtown Columbus with her hands at her side, twirling in midair as she passes over the Statehouse. Her flight takes her westward, laughing as she crosses the Scioto River.
Flying along West Broad Street, she resumes, taking in the city air, before noticing an orange glow a mile away. “Is that a fire?” Clicking her heels together, she tries to kick herself into gear, flying toward a neighborhood. Huffing, she looks back at her feet and the fading trail she leaves behind, “Agh, I gotta figure out how to get moving…” Her eyes move to her belly as she flies on, “I swear, you're slowing me down, even if you're why I can even do this to begin with.” The pink trail disappears into the neighborhood, flying into a rising tower of black smoke.
A crowd gathers around a burning house, phones filming and streaming firefighters spraying the house with their hoses. A young boy struggles against the arms of a firefighter, tears streaming down his soot-stained cheeks, “GRANDMA!”
“Hang in there, kid, we'll have her outta there!” The firefighter keeps his grip firm on the child, preventing him from endangering himself further.
The heat melts the surrounding snow, the cruel flames keeping onlookers warm in the winter night. Everyone is cascaded in the orange glow of the flames.
“HEY! IT'S KAYODE! THE STAIRS COLLAPSED! HE'S STILL UP THERE!” Another firefighter shouts as he rushes out of the front door, motioning his arms to the firetruck, “MOVE THE TRUCK! GET THE LADDER TO A WINDOW!”
“YOU HEARD THE CAPTAIN, PEOPLE! CLEAR OUT, NOW!” A different firefighter rips his protective mask off, spreading his arms and walking at the crowd, “MOVE!”
Yet a man cannot command an ocean.
Suddenly, in the smoky air, a pink beam rushes toward the house, suddenly dissipating as a young woman with platinum blonde hair in a lilac costume stands in front of the house, her gravid silhouette obvious in the flames. She looks around, before stepping up to the recently unmasked firefighter.
“Is anyone still in there?” Radiance asks, a bead of sweat already forming on her brow from the heat.
The firefighter looks down at the woman, unable to make the crowd budge despite his towering stature, “Look, I, uhh… I don't think I'm supposed to-”
“Sir, please, is anyone in there?” She puts her hands on her hips as she looks at the house, “I'm guessing there is since you didn't immediately say no.”
“Ma'am, you can't be here.” The captain walks up, taking off his protective oxygen mask, “I'm not handing you over to the police, but I ethically cannot let a civilian inside.”
Radiance observes the man's badge, quickly deducing he's the captain, “Captain Gordon, sir, just one glance at this situation, and I can tell something's wrong-”
Glass shatters, letting flames burst out of a window on the first floor.
“Kayode's trapped upstairs trying to rescue the woman who lives here.” The tall firefighter blurts out, drawing the captain's wrath.
“Menendez, what the hell are you doing?!” The captain shouts.
Looking to the crowd, Radiance spots a crying child, wailing and flailing as he tries in vain to rush to the burning house. Before anyone can touch her, a pink glow envelopes her body, and she propels to the house.
“MA'AM, STAY OUT OF THERE!” Captain Gordon gives chase to no avail- the pink swiftly disappears through the front door, disappearing behind the leaking smoke.
The walls are engulfed in flames, though the collapsed staircase just to the right of the front door immediately gives the glowing woman her cue.
“Anh!” Wincing, Radiance clenches her middle with her left hand, using her right to grip her thigh and stabilize her balance. A sharp movement juts ever so slightly to the side of her middle, swiping hard along her side before disappearing into her flesh. “Yeah, yeah, I know it's hot, just bear with me.”
The pink aura pushes her up the ruined staircase, before eventually fading, causing her to stumble to her feet as she lands on the second floor. “No, no, no…! Damn it!” The pink aura briefly blinks back into existence, before totally fading. “Okay, if they're still okay, hopefully they're scared enough for me to use.”
Covering her face with her arms, she moves across the hall, spotting framed photos ablaze on the floor, cracked glass surrounding them. With the wooden floor having few safe spots to step, the blonde eventually wanders into a room, the flames roaring in her ears as she spots a firefighter weakly attempting to pry a window open, spotting a gash in the tube of his oxygen supply. Next to him is an elderly woman, her wiry white hair stained in ash as she hacks her lungs out on the floor.
“This is gonna hurt if they aren't worried…” Radiance mutters to herself, before rushing across the room as a green aura envelopes her body, her thighs and biceps growing in circumference, the cropped leather jacket tightening around her shoulders. Approaching the outer wall, she extends a foot out, which makes contact, instantly shattering a hole as wide and tall as she in the wood.
“Here!” Summoning the yellow square from the pizzeria, she angles it flat, gently trying to nudge the old woman with her spare right hand onto the makeshift platform outside the house. The woman, tapping out the singed hem of her bathrobe, narrowly crawls onto the yellow projection, before the firefighter hops on unprompted, causing Radiance's left fist to clench. Stepping on the platform herself, Radiance’s face turns bright red as she holds her breath, her body quivering as the yellow square gently lowers to the drying grass below.
The square starts to tremble beneath their feet as it descends a yard every five or so seconds, before eventually giving out with just a couple feet left, the woman and firefighter collapsing onto the ground.
“Crap! Are you two alright?!” Radiance yells, crouching awkwardly to help the elderly woman to her feet.
Coughing loudly, the elder eventually looks up, her dark brown eyes slowly clearing to find Radiance next to her burning house, looking for a solid moment at the blonde's swollen belly. “This isn't good for your baby, honey…” She hacks her lungs out.
“Trust me, my baby's okay.” Radiance says, before looking at the firefighter as he rips his protective mask off. He breathes heavily, with his name badge singed quite heavily, yet Radiance can still make out the first few letters: KAY.
“How… how did you get up there?” Kayode asks with a thick accent, sitting down on the grass and staring up at the burning house.
“Being able to fly helps.” Radiance says as she attempts to escort the elderly woman to the fire engines and ambulances in front of her house, but she loses the need to as a swarm of firefighters notice the side of the house, rushing over to help Kayode to his feet and take the elderly woman from Radiance.
Captain Gordon marches up, finding Radiance standing there, her hands in the pockets of her jacket. His hazel eyes scan the woman just an inch below eye level with him, “You know you're endangering your baby, right, ma'am?”
Radiance forces a smile as she pulls out a hand to tap the side of her bump, “Super secrets, but he’s just fine in there.”
“Look, I'm supposed to turn you over to the police since you're not a member of the Paragons, but…” He looks around, seeing only other firefighters and EMTs nearby, and sees the young boy rushing up to the elderly woman, “since you saved one of Fire Station Ten's own, the least we can do is turn a blind eye when you rescue people in our turf. I should probably ask that you weren't sent by the villains’ league or something from Ann Arbor, were you?”
“Nope, can't say I've ever been to Ann Arbor in my life.” The blonde fibs, before looking up at the house as the firefighters resume their damage control, “Sucks that this happened. I know this isn't the most prosperous neighborhood; was it an electrical fire?”
The young boy, overhearing the heroine's conversation with the captain, calls out, “Someone threw a bottle through the door! The stairs caught fire!”
“What?!” Captain Gordon looks over to the young boy, “Are you sure, son?”
The boy simply nods his head.
“Great…” The captain mutters to himself, before looking back to Radiance, “Listen, I have to radio the police if this is an arson. I'll give you a moment to clear out of here and get the ambulance rolling out of here.”
The pink aura builds at the bottom of Radiance's feet once more, prompting a smile from her as she looks at the firefighters resuming their work, “I'm probably overstaying my welcome, anyway.”
With a small hop, the blonde severs her connection to the earth, leaving the pink trail behind her once again as she floats over to the crowd. As phones spot her and fingers start pointing at her, she clenches her fists as her sides, digging her wrists into her hips as the pink glows brighter. After a few moments, she bolts up into the sky, flying east.
As her body flies on, she looks down at the city beneath her, and further down to her rounded middle, coming to a brief stop in midair, the pink wake slowly fading and catching back up to her. “Seriously, you don't have to kick so hard when I jump into burning buildings.”
A small, gentle swipe at the top of her middle responds.
“Does it get too toasty in my belly? I figured you'd like the warmth.”
A small, gentle swipe at her right side glides over her belly button, before sinking into her left side.
“Alright, alright, I'll give you a heads up next time I'm going somewhere hot.”
A small poke against her navel.
“It's almost gotten cute when you poke at my belly button.” With a gentle sigh, her flight resumes, “I don't know about you, but I am in need of a bath…”
“You have to admit, Mr. Duke, our city is beautiful at night.” A woman stands next to a wall of windows, the only thing stopping her from falling is endless glass. Swirling a small glass of red wine, she takes a gentle whiff of the aroma, before bringing the glass to her pristine, red-stained lips, her sharp green eyes looking around the other skyscrapers nearby, before settling on the convention center. With fair skin and dark brown hair, she stands vigilant, her neatly pressed purple buttoned blouse tucking smoothly into her blue pencil skirt, her cognac heels clicking against the marble flooring with a tiny shift in her center of gravity.
“With all due respect, Ms. Landon, I didn't come here to talk about skylines.”
A massive mahogany table sits in the middle of the conference room, a few telephones aligned neatly with ten chairs on each long side, and one chair on each short side. The chairs are dark brown leather, freshly built and delivered, only a couple having been sat in yet.
In one chair is a man, his gray suit standing out against the back of his chair, with his white shirt popping out even more, letting his dark red tie stand out more. His dark brown starts to gray in his sideburns, before turning back to the darker color, his blue eyes studying the woman at the windows, enhancing his wrinkles beside his eyes. His hands fold together atop the polished wood table.
“Right, right, of course. So, what brings you all this way to snowy Ohio, Mr. Duke?” Turning back to the conference room, Ms. Landon gently sets her glass down next to the ice-filled bucket, alongside the empty, unused glass.
“That abandoned property, west-something… whatever it's called.” Mr. Duke leans in, bringing a hand to his chin, stroking his beard.
“The Westland Mall? My inspection crew loves the Beatz convenience store that opened up in front of the historic place. They can't get enough of the hot chocolate. Why do you ask?” Taking a seat parallel to Mr. Duke, Ms. Landon folds her legs as she sits, placing her fingertips together as her elbows rest on the tabletop.
“Westland, right. When were you planning on demolishing it?”
“Well, now, it sounds like you found a use for it. I can postpone demolition at your convenience, Mr. Duke.” Smiling, Ms. Landon leans back slightly, before reaching for her wine glass.
“Another thing, the Great Man. You still haven't told me a whole lot, and it's been three months, Ms. Landon.” He places his hands down on the table, tapping on the wooden surface.
“Oh, right. Forgive me, Dr. Carter says that it's a rather delicate process. She's so far isolated and eradicated hindrances in the process, so we should expect a milestone in progress soon.” Gently finishing the glass of wine, Ms. Landon sets it down without a sound, her blue eyes watching the suited man across from her.
“...” Sighing, Mr. Duke stands up, turning away from the woman, “...thank you, Ms. Landon.” He bolts for the door, walking briskly as he turns the handle and swings the heavy oak door open, leaving the businesswoman by herself.
“...hick.” Ms. Landon's smile fades, hissing to herself with a scowl. She winces, before gently rubbing her stomach, feeling her bloated midriff feel a bit firm underneath her fingertips, “Well, now, Dr. Carter, what on earth have you done to me…?” A small pinch in her side and stomach hold her attention for a moment.
Standing up slowly with a deep breath, she steps around the table, heading for the door Mr. Duke scurried out of. Slowly pulling the door open, she briefly looks around, finding the hall empty. Stepping into the sterile hall, she walks down, the clicks of her heels echoing as she steps to the elevator. Pressing the button down, she looks at the floor counter, finding it fifty-six floors below her.
“Well, well, too lazy for the stairs, Mr. Duke?”
Eventually, the elevator arrives. Turning around in the neat, pristine mahogany environment, she presses the button for the forty-eighth floor, descending rapidly. Stepping out, she walks into the familiar, sterile hallway, the air thick with the scent of lemon-scented cleaner. Passing a few doors, she comes to a stop in front of one, a solid oak door with a frosted window with a name in serif font: “Carolyn Carter, Sc.D”
Raising the back of her hand to the wood next to the window, Ms. Landon gently taps with the knuckle of her index finger. “Dr. Carter, it's Linda.”
“Come in.” The businesswoman hears a muffled voice through the door, and twists the door handle, slowly pushing the door open.
“Well, now, how is the head of Research and Development?” Linda asks, slowly closing the door behind her. Unlike the conference room, the room is devoid of windows, instead being made entirely of solid wood construction, everything perfectly lacquered and polished. At the center of the room is a solid mahogany desk, with a branch off holding a monitor and a phone, the core desk having some files neatly laid out.
Behind the desk is a dark brown leather chair, its occupant leaning back gently, her ginger hair in a loose bun that rests low behind her head. She coos gently to herself, her green eyes looking down at herself. She wears a pristine white labcoat over a dark green turtleneck, with a crisp pair of khakis, and dark brown flats. Her turtleneck is pulled up, exposing a large, rounded pregnant belly, her navel pushed out into an outie.
“He's kicking.” Dr. Carter chuckles quietly to herself.
Sitting on the desk next to her is a transducer and a bottle of gel, though her belly is dry. The sitting woman looks up at Linda, turning around, “This isn't a normal time for you to come to my office, Ms. Landon. I take it you're wondering about the Great Man Project.” Her fingertips gently graze the sides of her distended midriff.
“Mostly. Dick- I mean Richard- came in. I still haven't told him anything, but it seems he's seeking permission to move his Uncle Dad and his brother-cousins into Westland… not like permission was stopping him before now.” Rubbing the bridge of her nose, Linda walks around the desk, standing next to the seated gravid woman.
“I still find it fascinating you keep your business partners in the dark-” Dr. Carter coos as a sharp movement next to her navel catches Linda's attention, “Even in utero, he's displaying much physical strength.”
Linda's blue eyes look down at the files on the desk, before finding a calendar, her gaze wandering to the current date, finding “Day 91.” “You look ready to burst, Dr. Carter. I take it the Great Man will be fully grown in… oh, six years, if my math is right?”
“This current specimen is maturing at a rate three times faster than a normal human, yes, Ms. Landon.” With a smirk, Dr. Carter gently grabs the bottle of gel, holding it up to Linda, “Would you like to do the honors, this time?”
“I can't believe we're handing something like this over to him of all people.” With a small sigh, Linda gently takes the bottle, turning it upside down over Dr. Carter's womb, gently squirting a small pile on the surface of the scientist's skin as the latter strokes a few keys on her keyboard, displaying a program on the monitor.
“You know I can build artificial wombs for you to use after this prototype is done, Carolyn.” Putting the bottle down on the desk, the businesswoman grabs the ultrasound wand, immediately sticking the business end into the gel on the scientist's stomach.
Immediately, the warbled sound of a fast heartbeat fills the room. The two woman look at the monitor, finding the fetus being displayed in an awkward position.
"Just a bit more to your left on my belly, Ms. Landon.” Dr. Carter doesn't take her eyes off the screen, “And position it below my navel, if you would.”
Linda repositions the transducer as expected, filling the room with the even louder heartbeat as she moves beneath the round scientist's popped out belly button.
“And about the artificial wombs, Ms. Landon: I've already attempted something similar at UrbCorp, but no embryo made it to the fetal stage. I suspect life needs a real uterus to grow and flourish. I suppose there is a reason you and I came from our respective mothers’ bellies, Ms. Landon. Perhaps the forces that let Vittoria and Queen Ariel be simply force it so.”
The business woman simply moves the transducer around slightly, not straying too far from the instructed position. The monitor shows a perfectly healthy fetus, one Dr. Carter fails to notice any abnormalities.
“I suspect I'll be going into labor in the next couple days.” The scientist says abruptly, rest a hand on a dry spot of her middle.
“Being the size of a house clue you in on that?” Linda pulls the transducer off Dr. Carter's skin, grabbing a nearby towel and drying it off.
“The Great Man fetus is equally developed to a normal human fetus at forty weeks, Ms. Landon. Perfectly developed. If I were to be overdue, I suspect placental failure would occur in about five days time… though I doubt it'll come to that.” The scientist flinches as a sharp kick juts out from the top of her rounded belly. “A normal fetus can't rupture the amniotic sac… though I'm starting to wonder if the Great Man fetus is capable of doing such… even then, I have had a few sporadic contractions today. None of which resolves by getting or sitting down.”
Grabbing the towel and drying herself off with her left hand, Dr. Carter's right grabs the mouse, clicking around and opening some digital notes, “With the next specimen, I believe I can further shorten gestation by at minimum one month, possibly up to two months. That will be up to nine times faster maturation than a normal human.”
“Incredible…” Linda looks over the scientist's shoulder, her right hand resting on top of the chair, while her left slowly moves to touch Dr. Carter's midriff.
Dr. Carter's left hand guides Linda's hand to the top left spot of her belly, gently pushing the businesswoman's hand into her flesh to provoke a response. Then, a sharp kick, causing Linda to yell out as she pulls her hand back. Holding her fingers, Linda looks down at the pregnant scientist, “Jesus… it felt like I just had my hand punched by a heavyweight boxer! If you can get the next specimen to this degree in just a month, then that redneck can have this one! This one shouldn't be a problem after long… and Uncle Sam will come calling, asking for more!”
“If I may, Ms. Landon, I do not have superpowers.” The scientist turns around, motioning her hand around her still-exposed midriff, “I'd only be able to deliver so many specimens so quickly, and I’m not sure I'd like to delve into twin or triplet pregnancies of Great Men.”
“We can find others to carry them, Carolyn, don't be ridiculous. We'll just promise an extra bonus to whatever secretaries are sitting around and pretending to work.”
“With all due respect, Ms. Landon, I will not let my life's work risk being miscarried by some random simpleton who wants to back out and drinks the fetus to death-” Dr. Carter gasps loudly as the unborn Great Man starts kicking wildly inside of her, “Ooh… don't worry, you'll get to achieve your potential soon…” The redhead coos to her midriff, and the business woman takes a step back, adding more of the desk's corner between the two of them.
“Right… one last thing…” Linda motions to her own stomach, pointing out the slight paunch under her pencil skirt, “You didn't do anything to me, did you?”
“Either the Great Man is capable of somehow triggering spontaneous pregnancy in others before he's even born, or you've come down with a case of Couvade Syndrome, Ms. Landon. Those are the only two answers I have for you.”
Rolling her eyes, Linda turns around, opening the door to Dr. Carter's office, “Alright. Give me a call tonight if your water breaks.”
The door closes, leaving the ginger scientist alone. Stroking the taut surface of her belly, Dr. Carter chuckles to herself, “The next Great Man specimen… in just a month's time…. and it'll grow in my womb.” Pulling on the sleeve of her green turtleneck, the scientist strokes the silky skin of her forearm, before kicking off her flats, looking around her belly to her feet, which remain unswollen, despite her late pregnancy. “My perfect hands… my perfect feet… my perfect neck… my perfect belly… my perfect body… with the blood I share with the Great Men to grow in my womb, perhaps I can ascend above human perfection…” Dr. Carter chuckles to herself, rubbing her belly without a flinch as it suddenly tightens and shrinks, pushing into her body.
Outside in the hall, Linda stops in front of a window, looking out at the city, though with less elevation in the conference room. Then, in the corner of her eyes, she spots it, a pink trail, growing brighter and brighter as it draws closer. Holding her hands behind her back, she stares at the flying color, “Just what are you… in Columbus, of all cities?”
It only grows brighter and closer, which she realizes that it'll be flying right past her. Inching closer to the window, the businesswoman waits, before she finally sees it.
For the briefest moment, she sees a woman flying, with a large, rounded belly, just as big as Dr. Carter's. Eyes widening, Linda takes a step back as the flying woman passes by, leaving the fading pink trail in her wake. Looking down, Linda Landon strokes her hand on her lower abdomen, “...maybe it really is contagious…”
It's finally here, Issue 1 to the story that's been stuck in development hell! Huge thank you to @sapphicbump for the lovely art of Radiance!
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