From the bathroom to the battlefield to the stars!
Content Warning: TSF Series #005-3: Ghost Milky in… The White Terror contains sexually explicit activities, strong language, extreme violence, extreme racism, slavery, attempted genocide, forced transformation, breast expansion, and vaginal vore. Reader discretion is advised.
TSF Series #005-3 is a direct sequel to TSF Series #005-1: Ghost Milky in… The Cookie Crumbles, TSF Series #005-2: Ghost Milky in… Genocide the G.O.D.S., and Weiss Vice: Glory Unto Genocide. It is recommended to read these stories in order to understand the characters, events, and concepts featured in TSF Series #005-3: Ghost Milky in… The White Terror.
SPACE! The truest wonder and grandest spectacle of the natural world. Every stretch of this breathless vacuum was teeming with lights radiating from the distant stars, and spread across a canvas bereft of color. The result of this natural phenomenon was a dazzling spectrum that one could stare at for hours upon days, listlessly imagining what was out there. That was the case for humanity. For the dominant denizens of Terra who never ventured much beyond their own planet’s orbit.
Any and all plans for such growth had been stifled by corrupt systems that intentionally brought humanity to the eve of absolute destruction. It was in this fateful era when their salvation came. When humanity was assimilated by a successor race who inherited every one of their virtues, and only some of its vices. From the most humble of beginnings, the Milkies (homo lacteus) rose up against the systems of evil crafted by humanity and, following four years of war, demolished those systems. They were left with a tattered world that took them decades to rebuild, and once they did, at the dawn of the twenty-second century, they set their sights on the stars.
It had been over a century since the first voyage began, and while the Milkies had been fruitful in their findings, this was an infinite expanse… with infinite possibilities.
Chapter 1: Ghost Milky in… The Saint Capra Mystery
Date: March 4, 2222
Location: SPACE
A cluster of asteroids drifted slowly, propelled by a force that had long-since faded only occasionally colliding against each other. Despite this relative calm, the space between these rocky bodies remained tight, enough to dissuade most spacecraft from even attempting to pass through this field. Yet, there were always exceptions.
Amidst these floating rocks, there was a small spacecraft swiftly cruising about. Its petite body colored a soft pink and the name ‘Spunky Bunny’ painted onto its hull. It flew with both speed and poise, narrowly avoiding collisions as it moved through these hazards like a fish through a collapsing reef. With the only collisions coming from small pebbles that plonked against the metal body or, occasionally, clank against the windows.
As a small noise of a wayward pebble striking glass percolated across the interior of this ship, it captured the attention of an occupant. A woman, or rather, a Milky, with brown skin and silver hair styled in two thick twintails. Her style and physique was emblematic of her kind. A 180 centimeter stature, narrow waist, flared hips, a plump rear, and DD cup breasts containing ample sums of milk. She was dressed in a skin-tight form-fitting ‘zero suit’ that clung to every part of her body beneath the neck and colored a mid-tone azure, leaving next to nothing to the imagination.
She casually sat at a desk as she glanced out of her window, briefly registering the asteroid field around her, before returning to the tablet within her hands. Her fingers and eyes were frantic as she flipped through information at a rapid pace, silently soaking up entire pages within seconds. She carried out this activity for a brief while, before a chime came from an unseen speaker. A chime that inspired this Milky to put down her device and walk through the narrow corridors of the Spunky Bunny to reach the cockpit.
Her eyes first landed on the sight of the asteroids obscuring the colorful majesty of the celestial expanse, before panning down to the console. A vast array of machinery, buttons, and controls that framed a chair in the center. A chair that swiftly turned around, revealing the ship’s pilot. She was a Milky, but she was particularly… smaller than her blue-clad companion, in every sense of the word. Her stature was only 140 centimeters in height, while her breasts, buttocks, and hips were all practically flat. Aside from her stature, she had deep brown skin, a cute smiling face, had frizzy black hair that poked out from the bottom of her helmet, and was dressed in a pale green zero suit.
Tall Milky: “So, how are things looking?”
Short Milky: “Pretty good. Saint Capra should be just after this asteroid field.”
Tall Milky: “Do you think it’s going to really be this simple? Asteroids can really mess a ship up, but to have all communication go dead like that just isn’t normal.”
Short Milky: “I mean, I could hypothesize what’s going on, or we could just wait a few minutes and figure things out the right way.”
Tall Milky: “Geez. You could just say you’re space sick, Kase.”
Kase: “I’m only space sick because this thing’s so freaking small! I get that this is just a recon mission, but did we really need to take an XS vessel? Couldn’t I pilot something a little bigger?”
Tall Milky: “I tried to put in a request, but Cheese wanted to leave ASAP, and beggars can’t be choosers.”
Kase: “Speaking of Cheese… she’s not showing up, is she? Ugh. Misa be a sweetie and check on her for me.”
Misa: “Sure thing!”
Misa spun around as she ventured back through the corridor, bouncing over to another hallway as she searched for the third member of their crew, starting with her private chambers. As she approached, Misa heard faint sounds escaping from a metal door, sounds that she immediately recognized, and caused her cheery demeanor to sour. With a groan, Misa opened the door and was met with an all too expected sight. That of a Milky with near identical proportions to Misa, but with tan skin and brown hair, naked, flopping around on the floor, pleasuring herself.
The Milky wore a headset blocking her eyes and ears, with a piece of machinery embedded in her crotch, vibrating as it radiated a rainbow of colors. Her body was convulsing, a barrage of erotic moans slipping from her mouth every few seconds, and based on the puddle beneath her butt, she was clearly enjoying herself.
Misa let out a sigh as she walked over to the Milky, where she slapped her upside the head.
Masturbating Milky: “Gah!”
Misa: “Cheese, we’re on a mission. You can masturbate after we rescue everyone.”
Despite still wearing her headset and her electric masturbator still going at it, Cheese turned her head to look at Misa, and spoke to her in a venomous tone.
Cheese: “You could’ve just asked me to stop, y’know.”
Misa: “If it didn’t work the first, second, or third time, why would it work the fourth time? Just put on a zero suit and get to the cockpit.”
Cheese: “Yeah, yeah, I’m coming.”
As Cheese said that, she ripped off the headset and masturbation aid from her body, leaving them on her bed before plopping onto the floor to get dressed in a vibrant pink zero suit.
Misa: “For someone who volunteered to do this job because it sounded ‘exciting’ you sure don’t seem enthused.”
Cheese: “It was an excuse to get out of the capital. It might seem fun with all the politics and orgies, but that gets booooring.”
Misa: “Please don’t start waxing poetically about The Godslayer War again. It was the most euphoric part of my life, but I’m glad things have been so peaceful for so long.”
Cheese: “Yeah, totally. It’s just that sometimes I just want something different. This VR stuff is great, but I want to make love to a man every now and again, and they’re all gone now, and that stinks!”
Misa: “Well, we… no, you do have a point. And to think, so many generations of Milkies won’t get to feel what it’s like to assimilate.”
Cheese: “Assimilation’s one thing, but even with a room full of Milkies, it’s still nothing like pleasuring seven men at once.”
Misa: “Seven? How did you manage seven at once?”
Cheese responded by lifting her leg and wiggling her toes through the skin-tight fabric of her zero suit.
Cheese: “I have very skilled feet.”
Before Misa could ask any further questions, the high-pitched voice of Kase echoed throughout the room.
Kase: “Girls, stop talking about wangs and dongs and get your keisters over here!”
After Cheese finished getting dressed in her pink zero suit, Misa dragged her back to the cockpit, where the two immediately plopped themselves on opposite sides of Kase’s chair. Through the glass before them, they saw a silver dot that grew larger with every passing second. It was a spacecraft, one designed to haul cargo across long distances, and before the on-board computers could finish a scan, they already knew precisely what it was. Their destination. The Saint Capra.
Kase: “Hm… the initial scans seem promising. The exterior is showing minimal damage and the support systems are online.”
Cheese: “So… then what’s the problem? They wouldn’t just stay put in the middle of nowhere for no reason. If they landed on a planet or whatever, no questions asked, but—”
Kase: “The problem is that there are no Milkies on board.”
Misa: “Wait, so they’re all… gone?”
Kase: “It seems that way. I’m trying to communicate with them, but I’m getting no response beyond an automated message. The way I see it, there are three things that could be going on. Nobody’s there, the people there don’t want to answer, or the people there can’t answer.”
Cheese: “Welp, now seems as good a time as any to call up command and ask for reinforcements.”
Misa: “…But—”
Cheese: “—But that doesn’t mean we’re not going in to investigate.”
Kase: “I’d ask if you were joking… except I know you aren’t.”
Cheese: “So, will you play nice?”
Kase: “Only because you would be insufferable if I said no.”
Misa: “Same here…”
Cheese: “Good answers! Let’s grab our space rifles and solve a mystery!”
Kase: “They’re not space rifles. They’re just assault rifles that release milk-based substances meant to incapacitate or wound targets based on a series of scans which determine—”
Cheese: “—Girl, I was just fooling, gosh. I’ll call up the reinforcements, you two get things ready and I’ll meet you in the airlock.”
After forcing her plan upon her partners, Cheese moseyed out of the cockpit. Misa and Kase sighed in unison as she left, before turning around to look through the ‘windshield’ where they saw they arrived at their destination, with the Saint Capra floating less than 150 meters away.
Misa: “If things keep going like this, I’m going to become a farmer after my bicentennial.”
Kase: “Lucky you. I’m 217-years-old and I’m stuck doing compulsory Milky Voyager service until 2256!”
Misa: “They bumped it up to 200 years?”
Kase: “Yeah, they found out about the Mer-Milky incident and—”
Misa: “—The what?”
Kase: “The less you know, the better.”
Instead of elaborating, Kase leapt out of her chair and pulled off her helmet, revealing a wad of frizzy curly hair that she began styling into twintails as she walked down the corridor. Misa shrugged at this sight and followed behind her, knowing that some things are better left unknown.
Soon enough, the trio assembled around the airlock of the Spunky Bunny, clad only in their zero suits and with weapons on their backs. Misa nodded at her two companions as her hand gripped the control panel, before pressing the button to leave their ship behind and enter the recesses of space. As the mechanisms of the airlock churned and the door before them opened, the Milkies were greeted by a sense of cold nothingness. Something that would have simultaneously suffocated and boiled a human alive due to the lack of oxygen and change in pressure. But for a Milky, zero suit or no, this was comparable to stepping out of a warm home on a chilly day.
With the airlock fully open, the three walked off of the metal floor before them and leapt toward the Saint Capra. It was close by, but the three still used the propulsion systems of their zero suits to get there a bit quicker. A system consisting of small thrusters near their shoulder blades, with a secondary pair under the soles of their feet. Together, these allowed the three Milkies to drift through the vacuum with ease, reaching their destination in a matter of seconds.
Their hands gripped the metallic surface of the ship as they navigated to the cargo bay. The external interface was still shielded, and still powered, meaning all they had to do was place a palm on the display and wait for the computer to read their DNA. Misa took charge and, a second later, the machinery silently opened, inviting them into a vast metal room, filled with crates lined up from wall to wall and halfway to the ceiling.
Misa, Kase, and Cheese all took a moment to examine this sight, but try as they might, they could find nothing amiss. The lights were all functioning as expected. The cargo was orderly, with every crate secured to the floor. And while there was not a soul to be found, that was not suspicious in and of itself.
Once their feet were secured on the bay’s floor, they navigated to the internal control panel, shutting the door behind them, sealing the group inside this vessel. The bay’s automated systems then kicked in, filling the room with oxygen, and giving them the ability to speak once again.
Cheese: “So… where we heading?”
Misa: “Did you not read the briefing?”
Cheese: “Nah. Why would I do something when I know someone else will do it for me?”
Kase: “Ugh… First we’ll check out the escape pods, then the commons, then the bridge, then we systematically examine the ship from top to bottom.”
After stating her course of action, Kase led the group as they ventured deeper into Saint Capra, and the more they saw, the more suspicious they became. The lowest level of this ship was empty, with barely any sign of life, let alone stray personal artifacts. Everything was cold, artificial, and the only sound that braced their ears were their clanking footsteps and the soft hum of machinery.
The sense of unease persisted until they reached the escape pod bay on the other end of the ship, where they found what they expected. A series of compact emergency spacecrafts lined up, untouched, in a clean inorganic room. All were where they should be, and none were deployed.
Misa: “So, that rules out their most obvious form of escape…”
Kase: “I suppose another ship could have picked them up, but—”
Cheese: “—Nobody’s here, so let’s just head up the commons.”
Kase: “Well, somebody’s impatient.”
Cheese: “I’m only impatient because so far this has been boring as all heck.”
Misa: “You could just leave and head back to the ship if you’re gonna be like this…”
Cheese: “Nah. It’s gotta get more interesting eventually, even if this just winds up being a ghost ship.”
Kase: “You’re basically asking for something bad to happen at this point.”
Cheese: “Yeah, I know. But even something bad’s better than nothing, right?”
Misa: “If we find out that this place has been overrun with zeromorphs or whatever, you do realize that we’re going to need to leave you, right?”
Cheese: “Hm… Do those things have penises?”
Kase: “According to hentai, yes.”
Cheese: “Then I’ll accept my fate!”
Misa and Kase sighed in unison as they realized just how much of a pervert their supposed leader was, and resumed their trek through this seemingly isolated metal box. While the elevator was the most obvious means of accessing the next floor, Misa instead guided her companions to a shaft bearing an innocuous ladder that blended in with the scenery. Seconds later, the three lifted themselves up to the second lowest level, and immediately found traces of life.
The floor appeared to be scuffled, with small dents, just barely large enough to shift and obscure the reflection of light. Misa and Kase pulled out their rifles and used their guns’ internal scanner to examine these surfaces. While Cheese’s mind and eyes wandered, spinning around as she gathered a 360 degree view of this hallway, before her eyes landed on something peculiar on one wall.
Among the clean, uniform, milk-based alloy surface, she saw a crusty white fluid that had dripped down to the floor. Since it was first applied, it had hardened, becoming something crusty and fragile enough that it would break apart like a sheet of dust.
Rather than using her rifle’s scanning mechanism like her allies, Cheese investigated this substance the ‘old fashioned way’ by giving it a small sniff, allowing its aroma to dance across her tiny nose. An instant later, her eyes went wide. She knew what it was… and immediately licked every drop off the wall. Her body shivered and convulsed as her tongue fervently tossed this unidentified white matter about, breaking it up and spreading it before finally swallowing it.
Once the substance hit her stomach, Cheese became unable to contain herself, and began to laugh, drawing the attention of Misa and Kase. At first with sheer confusion, but as the scent of Cheese’s breath traveled to them their expressions erupted into something angrier… with a hint of jealousy.
Misa: “Cheese, please don’t tell me you just ate some crusty cum off of the wall.”
Cheese then turned to the others, grinning ear to ear, unable to hide the ecstasy that was gushing through her body.
Cheese: “O-Okay, I w-won’t.”
Kase: “Wait a second… is… is that synthetic cum or real cum?”
Misa: “Kase, we haven’t seen real cum in over a century. How could it be—”
Kase then handed her rifle to Misa, where she looked at the holographic display coming from its left side. A display that identified what remained of the white substance on the floor as ‘homo sapien seminal fluid.’
Misa: “What the frick is going on here?”
Kase: “My thoughts exactly. Human semen like this should not exist, and to just find it on a wall means—”
Cheese: “That we hit the freaking jackpot, bay-bee! With how bitter that stuff was, I know it had to have been created by a real stud. Now we just need to find them and—”
Misa: “If we find humans, you are not laying a finger on them, Missy!”
Cheese: “Aw, don’t be such a buzzkill, Misa. You used to be cool and take peckers by the fistful.”
Misa: “That’s when we were waging a war, Cheese. And we wound up getting a bit too frisky with the few humans we tried to keep alive. So this time, we need to keep them alive. Science demands it.”
Cheese: “Science, schm-ience! If you think something like—”
Kase: “Do I seriously need to remind you that our zero suits record everything and relay it back to the nearest server in real time?”
Misa: “And that even with your ‘political power,’ you’re gonna have a hard time justifying why you were allowed to keep all of these humans to yourself.”
Cheese: “You girls, suck. You know that?”
Kase: “Really? Because it sounds like you’re the one who wants to do the sucking, Cheese.”
Cheese: “I want to do so, so much more than just that… but you made your point.”
Cheese then brushed aside her companions, and she took the lead as they ventured to the commons of the ship. The heart of the ship, where the Milkies would socialize, eat, and make merry when not doing their job. It was known to be the messiest area of any decently sized spacecraft, but even that couldn’t have prepared the trio for what they saw when they turned the corner.
Tables were toppled aside. Chairs were strewn about without care. Food had been stomped into the floor, left to congeal and rot. Trays and plates and silverware were all scattered without rhyme or reason. Scraps of zero suits and other clothing had been sprayed everywhere. Tablets and assorted tech were shattered to such an extent that it had to be deliberate.
It was evident that something bad happened here, and before the three could even think to ask what, their eyes were drawn to the center of the room. To the sight of dozens of Human men, their bodies tall and bulky, engaged in what could only be described as a brutal orgy.
Bodies flexed against each other as the men dominated each other in a pile of flesh. Their arms clashed and clung to each other, hairless and covered in sweat. Their forms gyrated and convulsed as penises were rammed through buttholes. And the entire room erupted with asynchronous sounds of the most guttural delight.
There was no love. There was no sex. There was only fucking!
Misa, Kase, and Cheese all stared at this display in absolute astonishment, unable to comprehend this… miraculous discovery. Yet as they gawked at this performance of profound eroticism, they noticed something far more bizarre than the sight itself. They noticed that… all of these men were identical.
All were of a complexion as white as marble, had scalps covered in short flaxen hair, wore dull blue eyes, stood two meters tall, and possessed frames thriving with muscles. Even their penises were all identically sculpted 33-centimeter-long shafts, each glistening with a layer of an erotic concoction formed through the mingling of semen and sweat.
The three Milkies had to restrain themselves as they witnessed this sight, one so powerful with sexual energy that it sent a ripple of arousal through their bodies. Misa and Kase both felt their forms lurch forward at this sight— gravitated by it— only for Cheese to grab them by their shoulders and pull them back behind the wall
Cheese: “Misa, Kase, remind me how many Milkies were on board.”
Misa: “W-What does that have anything to do with—”
Kase: “37… and that’s how many men I saw.”
Misa: “But, how could a Milky transform into a human just like that?”
Cheese: “They look human, and their cum might be human by our scan’s standards, but that doesn’t mean that they’re actually human, now does it? I mean, humans don’t have stark white eyes and have the same physique. That’s a Milky thing… with some exceptions.”
Kase rolled her eyes as Cheese made a cheap shot at her for being an ‘extra small’ Milky.
Misa: “If they’re not human, then what are they?”
Kase: “Should we try… asking them?”
Cheese: “Nah… I think we did our job pretty darn well, and even though I really want to be pulverized by those things, I know that wouldn’t go well. For now, we just need to relay this to command, get out, and wait for the calvary to come in with a little more firepower.”
Cheese pulled out a small thin computer from her zero suit’s thigh pocket and began tapping her thumb about as she stared at its screen.
Cheese: “We already did our part, and even though we’re good, we’re not quite twelve-on-one good. But with our backup, things will be in our favor and all I need to do is press… send.”
As Cheese relayed the information from her handheld computer, she was met with a sudden silence. The wailing of the man-like creatures stopped, as did the sound of their bodies smacking against each other. The three looked at each other without words, before Misa took the initiative and peeked past the wall obscuring them.
She was met with the sight of the 37 man-like creatures, all standing tall with heads tilted down, and as she continued to stare, she saw… someone else. Or rather, something else. He was another man-like creature, with an adonis-like body, a large phallus unrestrained by any cloth, and porcelain complexion. He resembled the other man-like creatures in stature, yet differed in his coloration. His skin was not just white, but his veins glowed white. His hair was not flaxen, but a platinum blonde so bright it resembled freshly fallen snow. While his eyes lacked any pupil or iris, leaving nothing but white. Nothing but a pure, radiant, and uncanny white.
These shimmering white eyes darted over to Misa a second after she poked her head out, and as they landed on her face, she felt a shiver across her being. She immediately retracted her head and looked at her allies. The words refused to leave her lips, but her expression told them everything they needed to know: Run.
Not a second later, the three were dashing through the halls, moving as fast as their legs could take them. A deep booming voice chased them as they fled, one they could only assume came from the white-eyed creature.
White-Eyed Creature: “Sterks still live, to my dismay. End them now, this very day.”
The Milkies lacked any time to comprehend this creature’s rhyme, let alone question his odd vocabulary. Instead, they fled back to the ladder they took minutes ago, leaping down it as they reached the lowest level. Adrenaline brought them to the cargo bay within mere seconds, but as the door to their escape was in sight, so too was the very thing they were fleeing from.
The white-eyed creature floated in mid-air, as if the gravitational system was disabled, his expression as blank as his white eyes. He stared deeply at the three, but before any of them could ready their weapons, they felt a powerful force pulsating across their body, reverberating from their bones to their skin and back again. For a fragmentary second, it felt as if their bodies were about to explode, instead, they simply… climaxed.
The three moaned in unison as their labia burst open with their natural juices, and once the initial impact faded, their eyes grew wide. They did not know what just happened to them, but their bodies were imploring them— demanding them— for more.
White-Eyed Creature: “Even now, my power remains weak. They should die, but merely squeak. Come faster, my Whitened slaves, bring these Sterks to their graves.”
Without turning their heads, the three Milkies heard the sound of flesh pelting against metal. The man-like creatures were growing near, and though they did not know quite what they were, they had suspicions. They fought against their aggravated libidos and attempted to run, but as they felt the uncanny gaze of the white-eyed creature strike them once more, their bodies underwent a second orgasm, just as intense as the first.
With their legs wobbling as they stood, they realized they had to do something desperate to get out of here without being claimed by this horde. Their eyes scattered about, looking for something they could use in this hallway of crates, but as Misa’s vision landed on the massive cargo bay door, she had an idea that was just crazy enough to work.
She grabbed her rifle, pointed it high at the door, and pressed the secondary trigger. An egg-shaped object escaped from the under-barrel of the rifle, and went flying through the air, before smacking into the door, where it filled the entire room with light, smoke, and a great big kaboom.
A second later, the static air morphed into a harsh wind, and the artificial gravity the three had enjoyed was compromised. The cargo bay door was blown open, and they felt themselves pulled away into the vacuum. Misa was the first to react, using the thrusters on her shoulder blades and feet to expedite the process, hopping off the ground, and letting herself drift off into space. Cheese and Kase, both on the verge of tears, mimicked their friend and leapt forward, flying through the cargo bay and away from the encroaching horde.
Despite the lack of oxygen or atmosphere, the three still took a sigh of relief as they found themselves out of the Saint Capra. They had escaped disaster… but they still weren’t safe.
The mob of man-like creatures poured out of the spacecraft one by one… only for them to flail and fumble, unable to control themselves as they were left flinging through space. The fact that their heads didn’t explode confirmed the hypothesis that they were not humans, though that was hardly a concern for the Milkies. Instead, their only concerns centered around the vessel floating overhead. The Spunky Bunny was right where Kase parked it, and not wanting to test their luck, the three propelled themselves toward it.
Kase slammed her hand onto the exterior control panel, causing the airlock to open. The three swam inside like they were running out of air and shut it just as swiftly. They looked on at the airlock as it sealed, at the dozens of man-like creatures flailing about in the distance, but just as the airlock reached the precipice, they saw a hand reach forward.
The white-eyed creature then slammed his head against the crack, and their gaze brought the three to climax once again. They flinched as their bodies convulsed against their will, but they still had their guns in their hands, and this time, they had the wherewithal to try using them. Misa raised her gun first, and her allies quickly did the same.
On an invisible timer, the three shot at the white-eyed creature’s arm, unleashing a storm of laser-based gunfire that tore through the creature’s skin and into its flesh. It was far more resilient than any human, Milky, or any animal, but soon enough, the arm was shredded into bits of bone. The airlock door was unencumbered, and a moment later, it was sealed.
The instant the door out of the airlock opened, the three dashed to the cockpit. Kase tossed her tiny body into her chair, hands onto the controls, and turned the ship away from Saint Capra… only for Cheese to grab her right arm.
Cheese: “Sorry Sweetums, but we’re not going anywhere without a sample.”
Kase: “…Are you insane, or just dumb?”
Misa: “She does have a point, Kase.”
Kase: “Oh fiddlesticks, don’t tell me she’s gotten to you too!”
Cheese: “Just use the ultrahand and grab one of the not-human-man-things and let the ship AI do her thang.”
Kase: “…This better take a year off my compulsory service.”
Misa: “Trust me, Cheese will take off a year, and I’ll pull some strings to get you an extra six months.”
Kase snickered at that comment and immediately turned the ship around, moving at blazing speeds as her fingers danced across the console. The ship’s computer locked onto one of the man-like creatures floating aimlessly through space, and as it grew nearer, a limb escaped from the top of the Spunky Bunny. A tentacle-like arm that positioned itself, aiming for the moving target as the ship accelerated forward at several hundred kilometers an hour. With virtually no time to spare, the tentacle grabbed its target, and immediately receded back into the ship with its payload in tow.
Cheese: “Hot beef! And this is why I wanted someone like you on this mission. You never know when you’ll need an ace pilot.”
Kase: “Please, it wasn’t anything I haven’t d—”
A loud thunk burst from the cockpit as Kase spoke, and the three recoiled as they saw the source. The white-eyed creature was back, his arm was miraculously healed, and he was pounding against the windshield, trying with all his might to shatter it. His gaze stunned the Milkies once more as they were brought into their third unwanted orgasm, but even with her body shivering, that did not stop Kase. She shut her eyes as she navigated her console with grace, not a finger misplaced or a wrong input made, as she recited the commands needed to get out of here.
Kase: “MILKY SPEED-A-GO-GO!!!”
As she pulled a switch, the Spunky Bunny began moving faster and faster, and as the pressure surrounding the vehicle grew, it became too much for the interloper on the windshield. In a single second, his body exploded, liquefied, and fell apart in a million little droplets that spread across hundreds or kilometers.
Once every visible trace of this monster was gone, the ship bent space to reach speeds of 500,000 kilometers a second. Sending it far away from Saint Capra, and away from whatever evils these three had discovered.
Cheese, Misa, and Kase all relished in this momentary relief. They had escaped an alien horror the likes of which Milkies had never encountered, and lived. They wanted to do little more than rest and reflect on what happened, but as they remembered the souvenir they grabbed before leaving, they realized this was the start of one very long day.
Chapter 2: Ghost Milky in… The Plan To Eradicate White Terror
As the Spunky Bunny continued to tear through space at profound speeds, its crew of three gathered around a table in what constituted this vessel’s kitchen. They sat shoulder to shoulder as they stared at a tablet that rested on the desk, propped up by a stand. On the screen, they saw two Milkies, each with blonde hair and blue eyes. Their identical proportions made them indistinguishable to the human eye, but they fortunately wore different zero suits. With one blonde Milky dressed in black, and the other in yellow.
Cheese, Misa, and Kase all looked at these two blonde Milkies with rapt attention as they awaited their response, before finally being given one.
Milky in Black: “Holy mostaccioli! That sounds like one heckuva discovery! And you said you captured one of these white thingies?”
Cheese: “You know it, Cookie! And the ship should be sending you all sorts of data right now.”
Milky in Yellow: “Hm, initial readings showed that this creature is a human, but now that the blood tests have been processed, he is clearly something else. Something with more similarities to a Milky than a human.”
Misa: “I figured as much, Gomme. So you think Cheese’s hypothesis was right? That these creatures used to be Milkies?”
Gomme: “There were 37 of these creatures and 37 Milkies on the ship. That’s just simple math, and I don’t have another working theory. I think the more pressing matter is the white-eyed creature. We weren’t able to get much data on him, but he managed to make you cum with just his eyes! I thought it was just super pheromones at first, then he did it while in space, and he did it again, but through a milk-based alloy!”
Cheese: “Also, in case I didn’t make this crystal, that dude was bonked up! Those regular guys, they were hot, I saw them and I wanted to have sex with them. But him… he just gave me the worst vibes possible. And not just because he had no pupils.”
Kase: “Yeah. I thought we were gonna get creamed, or worse. …And thanks again for saving us, Misa.”
Misa: “Honestly, I was thinking pretty selfishly when I did that, but that’s besides the point.”
Cookie: “Wait a single slippery second! Gomme, do you remember those drones we sent out 20 years ago?”
Gomme: “You mean the ones capable of tracking transdimensional fluctuations? …Do you seriously think that this creature came from another dimension?”
Cheese: “Um, I thought Ghost Milky was the only one who could travel between dimensions.”
Cookie: “The only one that we know about, but she wanted to make extra sure of that, and taught us how to create drones to keep track of anything that should not exist.”
Kase: “And you think this white-eyed creature is something like that? But how could he travel like that? Ghost Milky is a ghost, and while he was pretty darn white, he wasn’t transparent.”
Misa: “Let’s not lose focus. How he appeared is not important. What is important is the fact that this white-eyed— can we please just come up with a name for him?”
???: “I have personally taken to calling him White Terror.”
As a comforting and motherly voice suddenly appeared, both parties examined their surroundings, searching for who, or what, could have said that. After a few seconds, Cheese, Misa, and Kase looked forward and saw a semi-transparent Milky before them, one completely naked and with a yellowy white color to her person. She wedged herself between Cookie and Gomme, who both looked at her with confusion, before smiling.
Cookie: “Hiya Ghostie, good to see ya!”
Gomme: “W-Wow, I never thought I’d get to meet you in-person, Ghost Milky.”
Ghost Milky: “Well, I’m too busy these days to stop and chat, but you’ve done and gotten yourselves in one big no-no, haven’t you?”
Cheese: “Hey, don’t phrase it like that! We did nothing wrong.”
Ghost Milky: “True, but things are gonna get baddy bads unless we act swiftly and rightly!”
Kase: “So, who was this ‘White Terror’ person?”
Ghost Milky: “He’s the biggest threat I’ve ever seen for many reasons, but the most pressing is his ability to turn Milkies into Malkies!”
Gomme: “Malkies? You mean they’re a bunch of violent crooks who like slashing people up?”
Ghost Milky: “…N-No? How did you get that from anything I just said?”
Misa: “She’s British, so—”
Ghost Milky: “Ah, that explains everything.”
Gomme: “Oi! What’s that supposed to—”
Ghost Milky: “—A Malky is a Man Milky. They are a mutation of the ideals of a Milky, but lack the ability to nurture and care for others in the same way as a Milky, for they are too easily distracted by their boundless lust. Normally, they should not exist, but these Malkies are… even worse. Instead of just assimilating everything into their flock, they rob them of their individuality, turning them into himbo drones. They don’t believe in the ideals of communism, peace, or care for a utopia. They have no beliefs, and only care about satiating their mannish lust. No Milky across this dimension, or any other, is safe from them, and if they are permitted to spread, they will endanger all worlds.”
Cookie: “Uh-oh. …I hate to say it, but it sounds like the only option is genocide.”
Kase: “Well… that shouldn’t be a big problem. Those ‘Malkies’ are drifting off in space and don’t seem like they’re bright enough to get back into their ship. Plus, it’s not like they have their leader around to order them anymore.”
Ghost Milky: “Aw, just because you’re not a full-sized Milky doesn’t mean you need to play dumb, Milbenkase. White Terror is alive and well.”
Cheese: “Seriously? He got splattered on our windshield after Kase cranked it up to Milky Speed. That seems like it would kill pretty much anything.”
Ghost Milky: “True… but would that kill a Milky?”
Gomme: “…Probably not. The last recorded Milky death was on October 7, 2060, right before we formally established the Milky Communist Utopia of Terra. Ever since then, every Milky who ‘died’ got creamed instead and resurrected a few hours, or days, later.”
Ghost Milky: “For White Terror, it’s probably not even a few minutes. He is a scourge who has claimed several worlds under his banner, and with every one he dominates, his powers grow.”
Misa: “What exactly does that mean though? How strong is he and… how can we stop him?”
Ghost Milky: “His strength is difficult to determine, as I do not know if he has ever expressed the full extent of his power. But let’s just say, even without his power to assimilate Milkies into Malkies, his power is immense. As for stopping him, the only thing that could possibly work would be… Project Nova.”
Kase: “Shut the frick up! Do you know how destructive that would be?”
Cookie: “Kase, how do you know about a classified project?”
Kase: “Uh… I mean, ‘project nova, I wonder what that could be.’ Sorry, it was a slip of the tongue.”
Cookie: “That’s what I thought you said.”
Ghost Milky: “Project Nova will be a risky move, but it’s also the safest! Before we begin though, we’ll need to track where White Terror is heading and intercept him th—”
Gomme: “We just got visuals on White Terror on Rekkum-03!”
Cheese: “Well ain’t that just the most convenient thing…”
Misa: “Crud! That’s in the opposite direction! Kase, turn this thing around ASAP!
Kase did as Misa requested, hopping out of her chair and running down the hall in a greenish blur. She slammed her tiny hands onto the console, sending the ship screeching to a halt, before doing a 180 and zooming back to beyond light speed.
As this sickening experience transpired over the residents of the Spunky Bunny, the same thing happened to Cookie and Gomme, whose bodies lurched about as the camera swayed about. But Ghost Milky remained right where she was, as ghosts aren’t affected by things like a dramatic change in velocity.
Cheese: “Well I’m glad my stomach was empty before you did that… How long until you girls reach Rekkum-03?”
Gomme: “43 minutes.”
Ghost Milky: “Drats! That’s 42 too many…”
Cookie: “We have some of the best veteran Milky Fighters deployed there. I would trust them with any threat under normal circumstances, but…”
Misa: “These are anything but normal circumstances.”
Chapter 3: Ghost Milky in… Neo Louise Battlegrounds
The colony world of Rekkum-03 was the latest settlement founded by the Intergalactic Milky Communist Utopia. A world half a light year from Terra that was currently in the midst of its own terraforming process. Transforming a ball of cold rock into something temperate, lush, and teeming with life. It was a decade-long process in the best-case scenario, but it had already borne dividends, and the world was already home to its first majority city, Neo Louise.
A technological, architectural, and structural triumph with design and beauty that rivaled the even the rebuilt cities across Terra, and wore all the trappings of a 23rd century city. Its sleek architecture rose valiantly up to the sky, and its streets were filled with people going about their day, doing their part to better this world. Not only for themselves, but for the generations who would grow to call this world home.
These denizens carried out their lives in bliss, having not known the horrors of war for over 160 years. Yet, there were always people waiting, preparing, and planning contingencies just in case something happened. It might sound exciting, but those who wait patiently for danger are notorious for getting bored out of their gourds, and the two at the Neo Louise control tower were no exception.
Amidst an assortment of computers running their own variety of checks, two Milkies sat at their desks, both with a dark complexion, black hair bound in twintails, and brown eyes. Much like with Cookie and Gomme, the differences between the two were nigh imperceptible to anyone but a Milky, though they fortunately wore different clothes. One dressed in a red tank top along with denim shorts, while the other wore a white dress shirt and black slacks.
The professional-looking Milky flipped through interfaces and data on the many monitors aligning her desk. While the casual looking one’s eyes drifted from her screens and across the room as she sat slouched over, resting her head in her palm.
Casual-Looking Milky: “Are you sure you don’t want me to help with something?”
Professional-Looking Milky: “I’m positive. It would be harder to incorporate you into my workflow than it would be to do everything by myself.”
Casual-Looking Milky: “Welp, guess I’ll just shut my eyes and try to get a nap in. Later, Cream.”
Cream: “Paneer, please. This is the sixth terraforming project I’ve been involved in, and I would be delighted to have your help if I needed it… but I don’t. So many things are automated and task management is so streamlined that it is simply easier for one person to handle the duties than two. Unless you would prefer we waste our time relaying the same information back and forth.”
Paneer: “Yeah, yeah, and I’m just here as the backup for this week. I get that there is a reason why I’m here, but I would rather be doing anything else.”
Cream: “If you want to do something, do an atmospheric scan.”
Paneer: “I already did that three times today, and it’s not even lunchtime.”
Cream: “Well, there’s no harm in doing it a fourth.”
Paneer: “Ugh! Okay, one more time, but if I don’t see anything— and I won’t— then I’m leaving for the day. Because I seriously would rather terraform a field— by hand— than sit on my heinie.”
Paneer flicked her mouse about as she loaded up the necessary program, and began slowly examining the atmosphere surrounding the area immediately above Neo Louise. All readings were normal at first glance, but as the view updated, she noticed something strange. There was a source of heat piercing through the atmosphere. It was not too uncommon, as meteorites sometimes fell down and burned into nothingness upon impact.
She waited for this to happen, but as the seconds ticked by and the scans continued to update, the object entered the atmosphere… did not burn up. It was only about the size of an oil drum, but when an object of that size was moving at that speed, that was enough to take down a building.
Paneer: “Ah, FRICK! Cream, something’s gonna crash into the city!”
Cream: “What? But I did not see any meteors large enough to—”
Paneer: “It’s not a meteor. I don’t know what it is, but it’s not burning up. We need to sound the alarm right no—”
Paneer’s words were cut off by the sound of something faint, yet powerful. Immediately, their minds began theorizing, but before they had the wherewithal to verbalize these thoughts, the alarms were already wailing.
Away from this control tower, deep into the heart of Neo Louise, an intersection collapsed as an object fell from the sky, tearing through the asphalt and digging into the pipes and cables buried underneath. The violent noise and quake that followed this impact drew in a crowd, with denizens of the city flooding around this hole, where they basked at its contents in awe. Not because of the destruction itself, but because within this newly formed crater, there was something unfamiliar. Something taller, broader, and more slender. A creature who many immediately recognized as a human male. Yet… he was far from that.
Humans did not liquefy as they crashed onto a new world and reconstituted their beings upon landing. Humans had meletin to give their skin, hair, and irises a pigmentation. Though he looked like it, this creature was not human. He was a being known as White Terror.
White Terror lifted himself from the ground as he recovered from his landing, and once he was standing tall, he looked up at the array of Milkies before him. Milkies of all colors, each dressed in a style unique to them, and 85% of them bearing the same ‘standard’ tall, skinny, and busty proportions. As White Terror confirmed this sight, he rose from the ground, levitating through the power of will, and landed in front of this group.
The expression on the crowd’s faces went from awe to fear, and at least some darted their heads around, deliberating an escape. However, before any could move their feet, White Terror spoke to them in a booming voice.
White Terror: “This dimension is just like every other. Filled with Sterks of every color. I would ask you why you think this is right, but I know you are blind to this blight. So bask and witness the power of white.”
White Terror’s words failed to resonate with Milkies before him, but before any brave soul could even attempt to ask for a clarification, White Terror made his move. He leapt forward, pressing his unclothed body against the nearest Milky. One whose wavy coffee-colored hair flowed halfway down to her back, as opposed to the military standard twintails. Her skin was colored a rich olive, eyes a rich brown, while her body was dressed in a breezy violet top and a short black skirt.
She stood there, paralyzed as White Terror embraced her against her will. As she struggled to find a word of resistance, she felt something press up against her skirt, ripping through it as it thrust itself deep into her person. The sudden vaginal penetration forced the air from her lungs, and it was followed by a high pitched scream as White Terror came inside her like a bullet fired from a gun.
After raping this Milky within the span of five seconds, White Terror pushed her off of his penis and onto the ground, where she fell with a thud and bounce.
Not even a second later, White Terror had taken hold of another Milky, and repeated the same practice. Thrusting his penis through their clothing, ejaculating inside them, and tossing them aside. Once this pattern became clear, the crowd of dozens of Milkies fled in horror of this uncaring and unemotive human shaped rape machine. A machine that pursued them after they fled, leaving behind a trail of bodies in his wake. Bodies of Milkies who were left paralyzed, as their bodies and minds struggled to process what had just happened to them.
The Milkies had an adoration of sex, and viewed the act of pleasuring themselves or others to be an almost necessary act for their physical and mental health. They should have been thrilled by such a sudden injection of sexual pleasure, but… everything about what White Terror did to them felt wrong. There was no love, no emotion, and as they stewed in the juices planted in them, the Milkies became consumed by a vile sickening sensation.
The olive-skinned Milky was the first to experience these symptoms: intense heart palpitations. She reflexively drew a hand to her chest as the pain began, cupping her breast as she felt her heart rate accelerate. Her breathing grew loud and ragged as blood continued to rapidly pump across her being, and as the pain brought her to the verse of tears, she felt something truly… unexpected.
While clutching the breast covering her heart, she felt it… shrink. The fat recoiled from her chest, dispersing itself throughout her body, and leaving her with something flat. She continued to grasp the flappy remains of her skin, only for it to be tugged away by an imperceptible force, leaving behind something flat and taut. The softness of her breasts and rich sensations of her nipples had been uprooted and replaced by something hard and faint by comparison. She removed her hand from her chest, brushing the back of it against the unfilled cups of her bra, before feeling a burning sensation throughout her palm.
She then brought her hand to her face, looking at it intently. Her fingers, long, slender, and thin, like any other Milky, felt sore, stiff, and as she tried to move them, they began to swell. The thin layer of muscle beneath each bone began to expand to something nearly twice its size, while the surrounding skin grew firm. Turning her supple, almost squishy, fingertips into something closer to a callus.
The same shift spread across her palm. Its surface expanded, bones cracked as they split and grew, and the pleasant softness of her skin was replaced by something almost stonelike in comparison. She tried to clench and close her hand as this change was finalized, leading her to at first compare it to a glove. But as her grip became tighter, and she was forced to acknowledge the thicker bones beneath the layer of dense muscle, she realized that comparison was far from sufficient.
Before a better comparison could strike her mind, her attention dropped to her arm. It pulsated while standing still, the fat from her breasts spreading beneath her skin as invisible forces mended and morphed it into pure muscle. Muscle that caused the volume of her arms to practically double and stretched her skin so far that it looks like it would rip like a thin piece of latex. Comparing the arm before her to the mental image that had been ingrained in her head felt like comparing a french fry to a plump sausage.
Once the muscle solidified down from her biceps to her triceps, she was met with a sharp pain that paired itself with an audible crunch. Her shoulder blade cracked as the bone expanded, breaking itself again and again as it grew to a newer and larger size, and shifting the entire arrangement of her upper body. Though she could not fully see herself, she could tell she had the upper body of something she only knew how to describe as a man. And as she tried to examine these changes in detail, she was drawn to her feet.
With no breasts obscuring her vision, the entirety of her lower body was visible to her as she craned her neck forward, and what she saw was another rendition of what happened above. Her plump bubble-shaped rear had lost its fat, becoming both flat and hard, while the fat took to her legs, shifting and shaping them from something slender and rippling with muscle.
It was then that, from the neck down, she became unable to recognize herself. Her body no longer even vaguely resembled that of a Milky. A hand drifted to her temples as she realized this, and her hardened fingers brushed across her smooth and slender brow. Her eyes went wide as she compared the difference in skin texture alone, but before she could delve further, the next stage of the transformation began..
It began with her scalp, which erupted in a dense burning sensation as every single hair follicle on her head was stimulated at once. Her lush wavy mane sank into the confines of her skull, and as these strands returned, they afflicted her with a splitting headache that served as the prelude to another wave of changes.
Her face, soft, slightly pudgy, and designed to be the idealized balance between something cute and sexy, began to contort itself. It was as if there were insects crawling beneath her skin, moving flesh and bone as they saw fit, their actions rough and uneven as they fumbled toward their goal. A face that was utterly unrecognizable. Cheekbones, chin, brow, and most especially the nose. All were changed, and as the form solidified, so too did the skin, growing hard and rigid, like every other part of her transformed body.
She tried to scream as these changes progressed, but she found herself silenced as these changes spread to her mouth. Her gums swelled as they expanded. Every tooth in her mouth broke in unison before reforming as something bigger and stronger. While her tongue became plagued by a bitter metallic sensation as it twisted and shifted against her will.
By the time she could open her mouth, the changes had already spread to her throat, changing every aspect of her voice. Even the sound of her gasp was rough, coarse, and deep on a level that left stunned. She spoke to herself in her new masculine voice, and as she did, she started to reflect on what had happened to her.
This was something different, something exciting, in a transformation of this magnitude and extremity. In becoming something the world had not seen in so long, and being able to put aside the body she had resided within for decades. But before she could celebrate these feelings, she felt that sickening sensation once more, crawling up her throat and higher, higher, until it reached the very top of her being. Where that vileness leaked beyond her senses and into her mind.
At first, it seemed like her mind was being clouded, that her knowledge was obscured, but as this feeling progressed, she realized what was truly happening. Knowledge, thoughts, memories, and thoughts were not being hidden, but rather decayed, crumbling down into nothingness and leaving behind something lesser. Lesser than a Milky, and lesser than a human. A narrow mind incapable of complex thought and driven more on instinct than intelligence. A mind that issued orders to her to act upon, shouting them all at once. The loudest of which was a simple word. An unspeakable no-no word. Yet a word that every Milky knew deep within themselves.
FUCK.
She did not know who she was. She did not know what she was. She did not even comprehend the idea of gender. All they knew was that they wanted to fuck. …but how?
They stared down at their body. Broad, muscular, and covered in tattered clothing that, no matter how loose, could not fit their new form. Their instincts commanded them to destroy the clothes around their body, which they did, tearing away the top and skirt with a single swift motion from each hand, leaving their body completely naked.
They then looked downward, at the thing between their legs, and as they brought their bulky fingers down to it, they were met with a layer of soft skin that surrounded a hole. The second after they noticed this part of their body, it grew hot, as if a fire had been lit within their flesh, and as they propped themself upward to get a better look, they witnessed the next stage
It began with their clitoris, expanding from out the core of the body, pulling in flesh and skin from elsewhere as it extended beyond the reaches of the vulva. It moved further, further, and further still until it reached such lengths that it was halfway to their knee. They felt their head spin as this narrow rod lifted itself, but they still stared as it underwent a change in texture and shape.
The slimy and smooth surface grew a second layer of coarse skin, leaving only the very tip uncovered. As they saw this phallus before them, they could not prevent their hand from reaching forward, only for their body to twitch, freezing in place as the tip of what was once their clitoris split open, releasing a drizzle of transparent goo. Though they could no longer recall the word, they knew that this was no longer a clitoris, but… a penis.
Their body then lurched forward as they felt something punt itself from inside their body, dropping and landing at the bottom of their torso. They looked past their newly forged penis, and saw a sack of skin. Puffy, baggy, and containing two sphere-like objects.
It was then that this Milky was struck with a revelation. It was then that he knew what he was. He was not a Milky. He was not a girl. He was not a woman. He was a Malky. Or… almost.
He stood up tall, adjusting to his new weight and strength. Everything felt heavier than before, but he was also stronger than ever. As he looked across the streets of Neo Louise, he recognized just how large he had become. And as he looked down at the asphalt below, he recognized how it looked subtly further away.
His vision then drifted from the ground to his body, tightly bound with muscle, and also… damp. He was sweating profusely, but while sweat was ordinarily transparent, the fluids that dissipated from his body were dark, almost completely black. The sweat accumulated from his head to his toes and, once enough of it had accumulated, it flowed across his being in a cascade of darkness. He moaned with bestial pleasure as the sweat pooled around his feet, for her knew that, with this final step, his body fully transformed.
Gone was his soft brown skin tone, his black hair, or his brown eyes. Instead, his skin was pale and bereft of color, his hair rendered a light flaxen hue, and his eyes colored a soulless blue. He was now indistinguishable from the man-like creatures that were on board the Saint Capra. He was now a Malky.
The last vestiges of his life as a Milky had been banished from his body, leaving behind only a white husk. A husk who looked onward at the crowd of Milkies fleeing from the buildings of this city, and became filled with a simple desire. A desire to spread his pure seed and exterminate the other. A desire to FUCK everything until it all resembled him, and FUCK it some more.
He then sprinted forward to the nearest victim, and the latest Malkification Genocide began.
Chapter 4: Ghost Milky in… The Next Generation of Milky Warfare
The second after Cream and Paneer got a visual of the impact site, they activated every alarm possible. A wailing alarm screeched throughout Neo Louise, warning its citizens to evacuate. Screens embedded in the wall pulsated the phrase ‘DEFCON MAX’ in bright red letters. While their monitors became flooded with emergency warnings and attempts to contact them for clarifications. However, all of that faded into the background the instant they received an urgent call request from ‘Commander Cookie.’
Cream and Paneer looked at each other for a moment, before nodding and accepting the call. Immediately, their screen was populated with a blonde Milky in a black zero suit, a serious expression on her face.
Paneer: “Commander Cookie? Please tell me you have some idea what the frick that thing is!”
Cookie: “We discovered him less than an hour ago. Ghost Milky has informed me that he is a transdimensional entity known as White Terror. He has the power to mutate and transform Milkies into his slaves, known as Malkies. You must do everything you can to contain him.”
Cream: “How the heck are we supposed to do that?”
Cookie: “…I do not know what to tell you Cream. He cannot be killed with conventional weapons, and we are going to be at least 40 minutes before we can pursue a more permanent solution.”
Paneer: “So, what, we’re just supposed to keep him busy, try not to get creamed, or worse, become a… Malky?”
Cookie: “Basically. I don’t have tips or tricks for you guys. Just try your best and know that… if you screw up, your very sense of self might be destroyed.”
Cream: “Why do I always get stuck with the suicide missions? …Fine. We’ll do what we can to incapacitate our enemies, relaying this message to the Colony Defense Force.”
Cream then ended the transmission and forwarded it as described, before immediately running out of the control room and sliding down a fire pole in the corner. Paneer did the same, following behind her companion as she led her to the armory.
The two dashed through this room with great intimacy as they assembled their loadout for this mission. Plucking a zero suit off a rack and changing within seconds before grabbing what was known as a ‘mega suit.’ A slim metallic exoskeleton that shielded their bodies with a hyper dense milk-based alloy, protecting their bodies, enhancing their abilities, all while retaining a distinctly feminine curvature. Much like zero suits, mega suits also came in different colors. With Paneer settling on a vibrant crimson, and Cream opting for an appropriately creamy white.
They then moved to the firearms, each grabbing a gun in the vague shape of an assault rifle, loaded with a vast array of different types of ammunition. Standard lasers and explosives were obvious inclusions, but the attached barrels featured ammunition more capable of containment.
After checking their weapons, the two Milkies stormed out of another door and down a hallway. The tension had kept them quiet until now, but with danger just a moment away, Cream couldn’t help herself.
Cream: “Look, whatever you do, don’t play the hero!”
Paneer: “I won’t! I might look the same, but I couldn’t be as stupid as I was back in ’56.”
Cream: “Maybe. But when have we seen anything like this?”
Paneer: “Well, that one G.O.D.S. in Indonesia wasn’t that far off with her mind slave army. And if my memory serves, I wasn’t the one who jumped out of that chopper first.”
Cream: “Heh. That was when I ate danger for breakfast and pooped explosives. But unlike you, I’ve seen enough action for an eternity.”
As Cream finished her zinger, the pair opened up the door and was met with a dirt field that led into the developing city. The two gave each other a knowing nod, resumed running, and as they exceeded 30 kilometers an hour, they both leapt high into the air.
One of the many perks of the mega suit was its aerial propulsion system. Or as it was more colloquially known, its jetpack. The back of every mega suit came equipped with a thruster capable of lifting its wearer high above the ground, and wings used to maintain flight. With sufficient training and care, this would allow the Milkies to fly continuously for several minutes, passing over hazardous terrain, and achieving speeds greater than those possible on foot.
This was how, and why, Cream and Paneer took to the skies, soaring as a pair of red and white angels, each armed with a gun powerful enough to eviscerate a tank. They soared past waves of fleeing Milkies, and while their inner heroes wanted to help them, they knew every second mattered in a situation like this and carried on. What mattered was stopping the White Terror and saving as many Milkies as they could, and their first opportunity to do so came just a few seconds later, when they saw their first Malky.
The white brutish creature was in the midst of assaulting a Milky, having already torn off her top, and knocked her to the ground. She swiftly landed a kick directly at his testicles, hoping that the ‘old rules’ still applied. But after a moment of daze, the Malky slammed her against the sidewalk, his penis looming over her shorts, ready to rip and tear.
Paneer took the initiative by unleashing a single shot of gunfire at the Malky’s head, and while it made a small dent in his temple, the wound was healed a few seconds later. Seeing this, Cream shot a wad of slime that landed squarely on the Malky’s chest. The Malky looked down at this slime in confusion, only for it to start spreading across his chest and arms, covering every inch of them. Then, once he was sufficiently coated, the slime began to expand into something 20 times as thick within just five seconds.
This new substance had a texture similar to foam, and as the Malky tried to tear it off of his person and free his arms, his motions became slow and fatigued, before he fell to the ground in a loud thud. He groaned as he made impact, before falling asleep seconds later.
Cream: “Remember, kid. Always try the Time Out Slime first.”
Paneer: “Figures. Laser rounds don’t work, but industrial tranquilizers do.”
The two continued to the heart of Neo Louise with this knowledge in mind, taking out every Malky they crossed paths with, while following the display on their visors. Soon enough, they had reached their destination, and were staring down White Terror, who was in the midst of mutating Milkies into Malkies with machine-like proficiency. Paneer shot first, launching a glob of Time Out Slime at the creature, where it rapidly solidified against his body, bringing him to the ground.
Paneer snickered at this display, but it only took a matter of seconds before White Terror freed himself of his restraints, shattering the foam-like substance covering his body into dozens of shards. He rose off of the asphalt with a single motion, and glared at Cream and Paneer with his glowing white eyes. His gaze sent the two Milkies’ bodies boiling with arousal and, a second later, they both reached a climax. The sudden sensation caused them to stagger, even with the support of their armor.
They were left vulnerable for a mere second, and White Terror capitalized on this by dashing toward the two, and slamming his fist into Paneer’s gut. She went flying through the window of a storefront, shattering the glass and toppling into the shelves, breaking them and crushing the contents as she tumbled backward.
White Terror took no time to register their action and immediately moved his body to attack Cream in much the same way. Only for Cream to point her rifle at his head, unleashing a concussive burst of energy that shot White Terror across the city street before smashing against a parked tram. White Terror lifted his head and attempted to use his climax-inducing gaze again, only for an egg-shaped object to bounce off his head and land between his legs. Shrapnel then coursed through his body with a profound force, ripping through his white skin and into the white flesh underneath.
Cream remained focused on her target as he was obscured by smoke, but by the time it faded, White Terror was already in the process of healing itself. The shards of this explosive had been ejected by his body, where they fell limply on the ground, and the layer of cuts coating his body just as swiftly evaporated away. Even a military grade explosive was not able to delay or wound him for more than ten seconds.
Cream grimaced at the results, readying the next ammunition in her arsenal, but before she could fire a shot, she saw a bag of milk flying through the air before slamming against White Terror’s face. The bag exploded open upon impact, unleashing two liters of milk onto White Terror’s person. For any other target, this would have done little more than inspire irritation— or perhaps arousal. But as the milk made contact with White Terror’s skin, it bubbled and burned.
Paneer: “I knew it!”
Cream turned her head to see Paneer standing next to her, with three bags of milk in her arms.
Paneer: “Lasers did nothing, but anything with a milk-based whatever in it did something at the very least.”
Paneer then chucked another bag of milk at White Terror, further burning his body.
Cream: “You’ve gotta be freaking kidding me with this. Milk is like acid to this thing?”
Paneer: “Milky milk does turn humans into Milkies, so it’s not the wildest thing.”
Upon seeing signs of recovery from White Terror, Paneer tossed a third bag of milk at the creature, and his body became covered in a fresh layer of chemical burns. Cream shook her head at this display, baffled by the simplicity of this situation, before taking this moment to send out a message via her mega suit.
Cream: “White Terror is weak to Milky milk. I repeat, White Terror is weak to Milky milk! All available units, get here right now!”
Cream paused as the other end of her communicator buzzed with the voice of another Milky, only for her to be brought back to reality with the sound of another bag of milk bursting open.
Paneer: “…And that’s the last of them!”
Cream: “Reinforcements should arrive soon. In the meantime, we need to engage in Mega Milk Mode.”
Paneer: “You sure about that? I mean, we haven’t tried—”
Cream: “Mega Milk Mode, engage!”
The breastplate of Cream’s mega suit then split open from the center, revealing her breasts, still covered by the zero suit, but with the nipple masking flapped open. Cream took a deep breath puffing her chest up as much as she could, and as she plopped her arms down to her size, her breasts grew five times their size. So large that they were no longer mere breasts, but Dobonhonkeros.
Cream: “Let’s go FULL-FORCE!”
Milk then ejected from Cream’s nipples at a speed and intensity of an industrial pressure washer, both streamed aimed squarely at White Terror. The milk tore through his skin and into his white flesh, digging through it until reaching his very bones, which cracked and oozed from this milky assault.
Paneer: “Shaz, this is actually just like in ’56.”
Cream: “Less whining, more milking!”
Paneer snickered as she entered Mega Milk Mode, exposing her breasts and making them burst into something bigger than three heads. Then, once fully charged, she let her milk loose, where it shredded White Terror’s legs, sending him toppling onto the ground. With no legs, he began to crawl closer toward the two. Even as his fingers and hands were reduced to stubs at the end of his wrists. Even as his skill was shattered and brain began melting. His tenacity had no limits, and he kept inching closer to the two, healing himself no matter how much punishment he took.
Cream and Paneer stood their ground, hoping to keep this up for as long as possible… only for the two to be grabbed from behind. Their milk sprayed wildly as their stance was interrupted and the two immediately brought their free hand to the fingers gripping them from behind, crushing their bones with the power of the mega suits!
This gave the Milkies just enough time to free themselves and use their jetpacks to soar up to the nearest roof, where they looked past their massive leaking breasts and saw a horde of dozens of Malkies filling the streets, all running toward White Terror, whose body had been fully restored within the handful of seconds it took for the two to flee.
The pair began by readying their breasts for another Mega Milk assault, but their reserves had been depleted, leaving their chests flat and deprived of Milk. Seeing no other choice, they sealed their mega suits and readied their weapons, knowing that even if they could last for another minute, it would be worth it. They silently nodded as they recognized their fate… only for their fortunes to suddenly change.
100 liters of a creamy white goop fell on the horde of Malkies. Its consistency was more similar to paste than milk, but its effectiveness was all the same. The Malkies’ skin burned and boiled, their feet melted as they attempted to walk, and this imposing threat was slowed down to a literal crawl.
Cream and Paneer gawked at this sight before bringing their eyes to the sky, where they saw a helicopter bearing a giant bucket turned upside down. A helicopter whose doors opened to reveal a squad of 12 Milkies in a rainbow of different mega suits. They fired down at White Terror below, shooting him with anything and everything they had, causing his body to crumble yet again.
This was a dramatic boon for Cream and Paneer, but as they looked around them, they saw that this was merely a small fraction of their reinforcements. Helicopters filled the skies, tanks tore through the streets, and squads of Milkies in mega suits hopped from rooftop to rooftop or through alleyways. Over 100 Milkies were ready to fight, and this desperate situation immediately took on a different tone.
Cream felt a tear brush past her eye as she witnessed this sight, but still retained the composure needed to take charge and dole out orders to these Milky Fighters.
Cream: “EVERYBODY BUST OUT YOUR TITS AND GET SPRAYING!!! LET’S SHOW THIS CREEP THE POWER OF 100 MEGA MILKIES!!!”
The Milkies shouted in agreement and began to surround White Terror, assembling a force 100 strong, on the streets and on rooftops, bombarding White Terror with a relentless assault as they got into position. Once they did, all it took was three seconds.
One second for 100 Milkies to unsheathe their breasts. One second for their breasts to grow five times their usual size. And one second for their 200 streams of milk to be unleashed, all directed at White Terror.
The intensity of the Milkies’ milk was not only powerful enough to collapse White Terror into white fleshy goop, but buy him completely. His remains sank into the hole, through the asphalt, the foundation, and even the bottom of the pipes, down into the dirt, and deeper still.
The 100 Milky Mega Milk assault only lasted for a scant 30 seconds, yet it left behind a hole seven meters deep and flooded with milk. The 100 Milkies on the ground looked at each other with a mixture of pride and exhaustion as they breathed heavily, their breasts deflated to near nothingness.
Some made it a point to hide their breasts with their mega suits, while others stared at the milk-filled hole in the ground. Wondering if that would truly be sufficient enough to seal this threat, and how long the seal would last.
They stood in silence for a brief moment… before seeing an arm rise through the milk. They grabbed their weapons, ready to start shooting, before Cream shouted from the rooftop once more.
Cream: “Hold your fire, girls!”
The 100 Milkies on the ground did as requested, some more begrudgingly than others, and simply waited and observed, using their weapons to scan the creature before them. A creature who was recognized as a human. …A female human.
The reason for this was clear when the White Terror fully emerged itself from its milky hole. Though his body was covered in a white fluid, his physique was considerably different. It was smaller and shorter, featured a set of breasts on his chests, and even had long hair draped over the face. His proportions were not quite like a Milky, but they were distinctly… female.
White Terror immediately began examining himself as he crawled out of his milky grave. Hands flurried across his hair, face, breasts, and every part of his body. Whereas his actions before were composed and artificial, they were now far more… human. A flicker of hope sparked in the hearts of Cream and Paneer as they looked at this result, briefly wondering if they had, to a degree, succeeded.
Paneer took a step forward, thinking that she could possibly talk to this creature, but as her foot clicked against the surface of the roof, White Terror unleashed a howl. One with a distinctly higher and softer pitch that lowered and hardened with every passing second. And it was a truly powerful howl, growing exponentially in strength with every passing second.
One second, it was strong enough to damage human ear drums. The next, it was strong enough to shatter the glass panes lining a skyscraper. By second five, it was sending Milkies flying back through the streets. Then by the tenth second, every building in a 100 meter radius had been demolished.
This sonic boom blissfully came to an end after that, but the damage was comparable to a nuclear explosion. Buildings near the epicenter were reduced to mere pebbles. Tanks and helicopters were nothing more than crumpled husks. And most of the Milkies who surrounded White Terror had been reduced to puddles of cream.
Cream and Paneer were among the luckier ones, as their vantage point instead sent them flying into a skyscraper that had fallen onto its side, located approximately 120 meters away from the epicenter. Their mega suits had protected them, but several tons of rubble had crushed Cream’s legs, and by the time Paneer came too, she was missing her right arm.
Paneer: “Welp, I guess we’re screwed… and not in the good way.”
Cream: “If your jetpack still works, get the heck out of here and try to regroup. Your arm should grow back in a day and—”
Paneer: “Nah, my wings got clipped. And just because I still have two legs doesn’t mean they’re not in 29 different pieces. I’d say we’re toast, but we’re not even waffles when put up against this freak.”
Paneer laughed at her attempt at humor before her attention was drawn back to the epicenter, where she could see White Terror rising high into the sky, levitating himself. She used her visor to zoom in, and swiftly determined that White Terror had reverted back to his original masculine form.
White Terror looked down at his body as he confirmed the reversal of his transformation before looking outwards. The area immediately surrounding him was reduced to nothing more than a ruin, and the army of Malkies who had come to his aid were reduced to a white sludge.
White Terror: “These Sterks have power beyond comprehension. But even they shall crumble with enough tension. I know not how they corrupt my form, but it won’t matter during the storm, for I know how to end all dissension.”
White Terror’s body then began to glow even brighter than usual, with light covering every facet of his form, and spreading beyond. Paneer smiled as she saw this sight of encroaching horror, while Cream could only laugh. Both knew it was futile to run away, and if this was really the end for them… they wanted to go out with smiles on their faces.
It was then, once the light had amassed a radius of 30 meters, that a brilliant green light came down from the sky, and landed directly on White Terror. His encroaching white aura disappeared, and his entire body was burnt in an instant, becoming nothing more than ash.
Silence swept the scene after this impact, only for it to be broken seconds later, when White Terror flew from the deep hole that had swallowed him for a second time. He immediately cast his white eyes upwards, where he saw something floating high in the sky, barely visible from the surface. Something that had the audacity to attack him. With his eyes locked on this vessel, White Terror shot off into the sky.
Chapter 5: Ghost Milky in… Nova Milky
In the exosphere of Rekkum-03, a massive spaceship floated above the city of Neo Louise. Named the Queensome Gaggle, it was a vessel capable of comfortably housing thousands upon thousands of Milkies. Its labyrinthine halls were home to hundreds of rooms and countless amenities, but the real action took place on the bridge. A room with eight Milkies, all performing their own task, but in the center of it all sat their leader, Commander Cookie, who was leering at the main screen before her. At the surface of the planet below, and the transdimensional terrorist who, in less than an hour, had already brought forth such ceaseless destruction.
Cookie: “We have his attention. Fire a second laser to show him we mean business.”
As she gave her order the Milky on the main console, Gomme, gave a single enthusiastic nod.
Gomme: “You got it!”
Gomme then flipped through her controls, and narrowly aimed the ship’s orbital laser at the target on the surface. Seconds later, a beam of green light was released from the underside of the ship, where it dashed through the atmosphere. However, its target narrowly avoided the second strike, and instead flew above the surface at a rapid rate. His destination, the Queensome Gaggle.
Cookie: “Heh. All according to plan. Gomme, initiate Milk Speed on my mark.”
Gomme: “Gotcha… but I just want to make super duper sure that we want to do this.”
Cookie: “I know it’s risky, but has Ghost Milky ever led us astray?”
Gomme: “Eh… that’s debatable, but I’m not going to argue with the transdimensional cum ghost who taught us how to build spaceships.”
Cookie: “Good answer!”
Cookie then returned her attention to the screen, which saw White Terror zooming forward at extreme speeds, rapidly catching up to his unmoving target.
Cookie: “Engage Milk Speed, pronto!”
Gomme did as commanded, pressing the necessary keys and inputs to send this ship flying at 500,000 kilometers per second. Not dissuaded, White Terror followed behind the ship, but he was only able to assume a fraction of the speed of the Queensome Gaggle, moving at a mere 300,000 kilometers per seconds. Such a divergence in speed would make it easy for the spacecraft to outrun and lose its pursuer, but that was not Commander Cookie’s intention. Her intention was to merely lead White Terror to the heart of this solar system. To its sun.
Cookie and Gomme stared at the sun as it drew closer with every passing second, knowing that if they screwed up, they would destroy the ship and condemn its occupants to an eternity of burning agony. So they waited, counting down each second until their distance was just right.
Gomme: “Now!”
The ship immediately slowed down to a crawl, stopping dangerously close to the sun. Not close enough for the ship to be yanked away by the sun’s gravity, but enough that the bridge became as hot as a sauna, despite the ventilation system’s best efforts. Cookie wiped a layer of sweat from her forehead as she took a second to relish in this success, before moving onto the next stage of the plan.
Cookie: “Unload everything we’ve got to delay White Terror!”
At Cookie’s command, the back of the ship became alit with weaponry that fired outwards. Missiles, bombs, mines, lasers, and even giant containers of milk. All traveled toward White Terror as he attempted to catch up to the Queensome Gaggle, and all were woefully ineffective. White Terror had experienced enough with the weaponry of the Milkies to be wary of them at this point. In fact, he was so adept that he even managed to disable them with just his gaze. He sent missiles flying past him. He caused bombs to detonate prematurely. And he even shattered containers of milk, leaving behind only globules of liquid that rapidly boiled before vaporizing. These weapons were enough to delay him by a few seconds, but nothing more.
Cookie looked at this display from her screen and grit her teeth in frustration.
Cookie: “Fooey! I should’ve known that wouldn’t work. Is the Nova Missile ready?”
Gomme: “Um… it will be in 30 seconds!”
Cookie: “…Seriously girls?”
Gomme: “We don’t just have missiles powerful enough to survive being shot into the sun, Cookie!”
Cookie: “Well, maybe we should’ve! Maybe we should have thought that Ghost Milky wanted to shoot herself into the sun!”
Gomme: “We haven’t used space missiles for practical purposes… ever! We’ve been making them 120 years ‘just in case.'”
Cookie: “Look, there is… No, you’re right, I know you’re right, but it’s hot as heck up in here, and I don’t want to spend the rest of forever inside a star, so I’m taking it out on you because this is super stressful!”
Gomme: “…Missile’s ready, boss!”
Cookie: “Then fire it, ya dork!”
Gomme pressed a single key on her console, and a missile fired from the front of the ship, flying directly to the center of the sun.
Cookie: “Now get us out of here, right now!”
With Cookie’s latest command, the Queensome Gaggle turned itself as quickly as a ship of its size could, revving and powering its engines to enter Milky Speed once more. As it neared this goal, White Terror grew ever closer and closer, closing the gap to a mere 1,000,000 kilometers… when the ship vanished.
White Terror stopped as his eyes recognized this feat, and looked in the vague direction the ship must have headed in. He remained floating there for a moment, deliberating his next move as his latest target chose to flee. After finalizing this decision, he rotated his body and fixated his eyes on the tiny brown planet known as Rekkum-03. He lunged himself forward, preparing to propel forward at the speed of light, only to face an immediate resistance.
White Terror turned around to investigate what could possibly stifle his powers… and what he saw shocked him.
He looked back at the sun so dangerously close to him, and as he gazed at the surface, he saw a set of eyes. Eyes so massively large that they reminded him of just how small he is in the grand scale of the universe. Eyes that structurally resembled that of a human or Milky. Eyes that even blinked as they looked at him.
These eyes were one thing, but as White Terror looked closer at this star, the more unexpected features he saw. He saw a nose protruding from between the eyes. The surface of the sun caved open as it developed a mouth. Meaning not only could the sun see him, but it could eat him. It was a breed of cosmic horror that left White Terror frozen as he tried to comprehend and process it. Only for his mind to go blank as he saw the full extent of this transformation.
It wasn’t that the sun was developing a face. Rather, the sun was turning into a humanoid creature. Its perfect spherical form shifted to resemble that of a human being in a fetal position, developing arms, legs, a neck, a torso, everything. It then unfurled itself, stood tall, and displayed its body. A body that resembled that of a Milky, right down to the twintails coming off from her head.
Though the silhouette matched exactly, it was still a star. Still made of burning gas and capable of shifting planets and destroying anything that dared to get close to it. But… that just made it all the more horrifying. White Terror was someone with the power to destroy people, to topple cities. This was an entity so powerful that it controlled the very foundation of a solar system, granted life to entire worlds, and filled the infinite emptiness of space with light. What was White Terror next to something like this? What was… anything… when compared to a star?
It was then that the star spoke to him in a booming sultry voice that defied the laws of space.
Milky-Shaped Star: “It has been far too long since I claimed a body as my own… and what a body this is. Hear me, White Terror! I am Nova Milky, and I shall bring your reign of destruction to an end!”
Nova Milky then brought her planet-sized hand down to White Terror. As the hand grew closer, his body began to burn, then boil, before being completely consumed by her palm.
Immersed in the fires of the sun, White Terror screamed in agony. Not from the sense of his flesh being decimated as he became entwined in an unending cycle of death and rebirth as his immortal body fought against something unsurmountable. But because of something deep within his mind that was reawakened.
It was a memory of his body being destroyed by an immense heat. By a ravenous fire. And being reduced to nothing but ash. It was a memory of when he was greeted by a radiant white light. When he was given the power.
“The power to rid this world of evil. The power to cleanse the corruption. The power to reshape the world into something ideal.”
He was given power above all else… and with that power, he would not allow anything to stop him. He would not allow himself to be overcome by a simple star. He was God. He was the ruler of everything… and he could do anything.
Nova Milky looked down at her hand shortly after absorbing White Terror. It was a simple and effective solution, the sort that should end anything. But she still looked at her hand with doubt, wondering if her method was truly enough to defeat someone as mighty as the White Terror.
It was then that a small white light appeared within Nova Milky’s palm. A light she grew and grew with every passing moment. As it reached the proportional size of a marble in her palm, Nova Milky threw the sphere of light and watched it as it continued to grow hundreds of times larger. As it grew into something roughly the same size as her. Something whose body glowed an intense and burning white. Something in the shape of a human man, but from the color alone, Nova Milky already knew this was White Terror.
A worried expression appeared on Nova Milky’s face as White Terror unleashed his new form, but she adopted a fighting stance all the same. White Terror looked at this stance… and let out a bestial howl. A howl that broke the rules of the universe by not only traveling through space, but doing so with such intensity that the solar system surrounding them… collapsed. Every planet, moon, and asteroid of the Rekkum system shattered into countless pieces once the destructive waves reached them.
It took several seconds for Nova Milky to realize just what White Terror had done, and once she did, her calm demeanor shattered, for she had just witnessed the impossible. She witnessed something so powerful that it could destroy worlds with just its voice.
Nova Milky: “W-What are you?”
White Terror: “I am the paragon of white. A god, an emperor, and knight. I find tainted worlds and spread my seeds. For it is the most righteous of deeds. If you resist, know you will fall. For I am the conqueror of all.”
Nova Milky: “Heh. You know, you remind me of someone I met long, long ago. A man filled with aggression and rage. A desire to change the world. Not to improve it, but to feel powerful. I can tell you want the same thing and that, deep down, you hate what you have become. You hate yourself for committing to this path, and despite all of your strength, you are too afraid to go back. Too afraid to change who you are after committing so many atrocities. I want to help you but I know someone as stubborn and blind as you would never listen to reason. Though perhaps… you’ll listen to my fists?”
As she concluded her speech, Nova Milky thrust herself forward, her fist aimed squarely at White Terror’s face… only for him to duck away and land a sucker punch. The impact left Nova Milky dazed, and before she could even attempt to recover, White Terror placed himself on top of her and started hitting. He slammed his burning hot fists into her fiery face, stomped down on her breasts with the heels of his feet, and yanked on her twintails as hard as he could. She cried in pain, only for White Terror to continue his underhanded tactics, bringing his mouth to her neck and sinking in his teeth as deep as possible.
As this horrific beat down played out, billions of Milkies looked on in shock. The three onboard the Spunky Rabbit— Cheese, Misa, and Kase— all gathered in the cockpit of their ship. Amongst the remains of the destroyed Rekkum-03, Cream, Paneer, and thousands of other Milkies, all drifting in space, looked at the sight, caring far more about the outcome of this encounter than whatever fate awaited them. The Queensome Gaggle had returned from its diversion, and its crew all paused the operations. However, Commander Cookie did not just limit this display to those in the Rekkum system, as she transmitted a video feed of this to Milkies all across the universe. From Terra to Mars to Luna to the ten other colony worlds settled by the Milkies. All rendered with only 5 seconds of delay thanks to the magic of MilkyNet!
This meant that over 50 billion Milkies were watching this drag out battle taking place. Watching their only means of defeating this impossibly powerful force from another world get her ass handed to her. As this happened, Nova Milky could feel their despair and fear, feel the worry and doubt that filled their minds as they saw her fail. She needed to do something, or else… she might not only lose this world, but all others.
It was then that Nova Milky caught White Terror’s fist and rammed her knee into his gut. She tossed him off her and stood tall before shouting as loudly as she could. Not at her opponent, but at all the Milkies who called this world home.
Nova Milky: “Milkies of this universe, please, lend me your strength! Cheer me on and I know I can defeat this menace! With our powers combined, we can do anything!”
As these words pierced the ears of billions of Milkies, they all realized what they had to do. They remembered the assault on Rotterdam, Kashgar, Beijing, and Jakarta. How the Milkies managed to slay every last G.O.D.S. by December 31, 2056. It was not just the power of the Milkies Fighters. It was all possible only through… A Milky Cheer of Power and Determination.
Misa on board the Spunky Rabbit immediately ran from the cockpit to her quarters, dumping out a box of personal items. Mostly mementos of war, but in a compressed bag, she quickly found exactly what she was looking for. Three sets of rainbow colored pom-poms.
Misa: “They thought I was crazy waiting 160 years for something like this to happen again, but who’s crazy now? Who’s crazy now?!”
With these tufts of shimmering rainbow tassels in hand, Misa dashed back to the cockpit and distributed the pom-poms to her two other crewmates.
Misa: “Alright girls, take my lead and repeat after me!”
Kase: “Ah geez, whenever we do something like this, all I can think about is Paneer’s womb. …It smelled sooooo good.”
Cheese: “You sure it will be that easy, because I’m not really the most rhythmic of Milkies and—”
Misa: “1, 2, 3, let’s go! We’ll put on a special show!”
Cheese & Kase: “1, 2, 3, let’s go! We’ll put on a special show!”
Misa: “All together now!”
Cheese & Misa & Kase: “Nova Milky, you’re the best, you can pass this dastard’s test! Kick, punch, chop, you know! Raise your spirits, strike a blow! You saved us once, let’s make it twice, beat him up and don’t play nice! We love you with all our hearts, ‘cos you gave us peace and lotsa smarts! Now it’s time to return the favor, to pump you up ‘cos you’re our savior! You gave us bodies that we love, that fit us right just like a glove! So show this jerk the Milky way! Bestest luck, or as they say, Ganbatte!”
Misa: “Huh, I suddenly feel like our multi-racial menagerie of war buddies is missing some real important representation.”
Cheese: “…Misa, now is not the time to be thinking about something like that.”
In the remnants of Rekkum-03, the thousands of surviving Milkies grabbed whatever rubble and debris they could to begin cheering. It was true that, in space, no one can hear you scream… but no matter where the Milkies were, their cheers were always effective. Sure, it meant that most Milkies drifting about weren’t able to sync, or hear themselves, but that did not stop them from trying. And the fact that they were missing limbs sure as sugar wasn’t going to stop Cream and Paneer from giving it their all to help save not just the world, but the whole dang universe!
Cream grabbed two chunks of rebar while Paneer settled on a traffic cone, and with their mega suits still functional, they looked at each other with a smile.
Paneer: “Mega suit sync on?
Cookie: “Sync is on, you know it girl!”
Paneer: “Let’s give this thing another whirl!
Cookie & Paneer: “6, 7, 8, 9! Trust ourselves and we’ll do fine!”
Cookie & Paneer: “Hey White Terror, you’re an error! Wreck our planet with just a sound? Give that jerk a mighty pound! Nova Milky, you’re our hope, beat him good and make it dope! Knock him down, make him splat! Wait, huh, what was that? You can’t hear us? That’s okay. This will help you anyway! Even though we’re bleeding lots, we’re giving it our best shots! And we’re also not alone, even though the planet’s blown! Many Milkies are floating by, looking high into the sky, or I guess it might just be space? It’s hard to fact check with this pace! Either way, we believe in you, for your power’s great and true!”
The thousands of Milkies aboard the Queensome Gaggle had stirred into an uproar at Nova Milky’s request. Not because of a lack of determination among the 8 Milkies in the bridge, but a distinct lack of necessary supplies.
Cookie: “What do you mean they threw the pom-poms into space with all the bombs?”
Gomme: “What else could I mean? The crew tossed out the emergency pom-poms!”
Cookie: “Well, we’ve got to use something!”
Gomme: “Um… oh, we have all of those kiwis in storage!”
Cookie: “Hm… Right, you and Misa used houseplants before, so fruits should be an okie dokie substitute.”
Gomme: “Not the fruit, the bird. We have like 3,000 of them.”
Cookie: “…Why?”
Gomme: “We don’t have time for any stupid questions, boss!”
Gomme then paused to type something on her console, putting in a request to another department on the ship. A request that read ‘teleport 16 kiwis to the bridge.’ A second later, 16 wingless brown birds the size of footballs appeared before Cookie’s feet, all of them immensely confused. Or at least, more confused than birds usually are.
Gomme: “Just grab ’em and shake ’em!”
Cookie: “You sure about that? Don’t… wait, don’t we have maracas we could use inste—”
Gomme: “SHUT UP AND JUST PLAY ALONG!!!”
Cookie sighed in defeat as Gomme proved to be unbudging in her conviction, leading the commander to grab two birds by their legs. They were clearly uncomfortable, and their bodies shook with fear, but with them being so large and fluffy, they truly did make perfect pom-poms. After Cookie grabbed them, the six other Milkies on the bridge did the same, all of whom looked at Gomme to set the pace.
Gomme: “1, 2, 3, do it now, just like me! 4, 5, 6, come and see our Milky tricks!”
Cookie & The Bridge Crew: “1, 2, 3, do it now, just like me! 4, 5, 6, come and see our Milky tricks!”
Cookie & Gomme & The Bridge Crew: “Nova Milky, Nova Milky, we love you, and you know that’s for true! This stinky white freak’s breaking all the rules, but you’re got us, more precious than any jewels! We’re rockin’ with the power of 50 billion, from all the soldiers and every civilian!”
As the 8 Milkies in the room continued to cheer, the kiwi birds in their hands became restless and began to… sing.
Sixteen Kiwis: “Squawk, bawk, chirp, tweet, shriek! Hear our cheers from our beaks!”
Cookie & Gomme & The Bridge Crew: “Wait, what, talking birds? C’mon now, that’s just absurds!”
Sixteen Kiwis: “You say that with a straight face? Look at you and your race! Cheering for your sun-based god? That’s just silly, you buxom clod! How is that your only ace?”
Cookie & Gomme & The Bridge Crew: “Can that rudeness that you’ve brought! We’re giving it all we’ve got! It’s up to us, ‘cos the end is near, so please help us out in our cheer!”
Sixteen Kiwis: “Well, erm, okay, fine. We’ll help you out with this rhyme. Just lay off the shakes this time.”
Cookie & Gomme & The Bridge Crew: “You’re the best, you talking cuties! Let’s sync up and do our duties!”
The Milkies on board then placed their kiwi birds gingerly down onto their chairs, where they began awkwardly dancing as best as their talons would allow them, but they were trying, and that’s all that matters! This left the Milkies without anything to wave other than their hands, but, again, all that matters is that you try, try, and try some more!.
Cookie & Gomme & The Bridge Crew & Sixteen Kiwis: “Cheering loud from the Queensome Gaggle! With our bird friends we won’t waggle. They’re so cool, don’t you think? They can even do the Milky sync! Nova Milky, turn the tide, even birds are on your side! It’s so nice, a point of pride, let it fuel your winning stride! And, um, is this just kiwis? Is it ‘cos they’re such teensies? Wait, no, it doesn’t matter, so let’s cease this meta chatter! Nova Milky, you’ll win this fight! For you have your secret might! Kick them hard, yeah real far, ‘cos you are a superstar!”
Cookie: “…Was that a little much? I mean, she is a literal star so—”
Gomme & The Bridge Crew & Sixteen Kiwis: “Shut it Cookie, don’t make us crumble, when we’re so deep in this rumble! It’s the second verse, not like the first, beat this freak and make it terse!”
As the cheers across the universe carried on, Nova Milky felt her body brimming with a newfound power. The power of cheer! The power of fun! The power of bonds! The power of a whole universe full of Milkies. A smile appeared on her burning face, and as White Terror looked at her, he could tell that something was different about her.
Nova Milky: “Do you feel that? That is just a teensy sample of the power of 50 billion Milkies! You might have been able to destroy humans and shatter their civilizations, but you are nothing compared to the Milkies! Don’t believe me? Then give me your best shot, punk!”
White Terror said nothing in response, and simply thrust himself forward, aiming his fists for Nova Milky, only for her to grab him by the arm, and toss him away. Before he could recover, she rushed toward him, slamming her knee into his face, her elbow to his back, and a fist to his gut. He spat fire as the pummeling continued, trying to find an opportunity to land a hit, yet he was countered and rejected every time.
He recoiled in pain after being thrown for the umpteenth time as Nova Milky approached. She stood tall over his clutched form, but rather than give him the dignity of trying to stand, she planted her blazing foot onto his throat.
Nova Milky: “I have the strength needed to kill you here and now… but Milkies don’t kill. We are lovers before fighters, and while most Milkies would die shortly after trying to love you… I am not most Milkies. I’m the queen of Milkies. And I shall show you a pleasure beyond your wildest imagination. A pleasure that will finally free you of your curse.”
After giving her warning, Nova Milky lowered herself onto White Terror’s body, and slid his burning penis into her blazing vagina. White terror resisted, failing his hands and legs, only for Nova Milky to press her body against his, wrapping his legs and forcing his arms behind his back. He began to shout his objections, but before he could utter a single syllable, Nova Milky brought her lips to his. He wanted to scream, he wanted to run, and he wanted to pry this giant woman made of fire off of him, but she was too strong, he was too weak, and as he recognized this reality, the intercourse commenced.
Nova Milky began by focusing on White Terror’s mouth. Though his teeth were sharp and his tongue as ravenous in its resistance, that only made him all the more fun to overpower and tame as she explored every part of his mouth, claiming them as her own. He wound up trying to do the same, to overpower her, but despite whatever he might have been thinking, Nova Milky welcomed his invasion. It made her domination feel all the more deserved.
She thrust and rubbed her chest against his, and even in these star-based forms, their chests were as different as any man and woman. His hard, flat, and toned, and hers soft, round, and ever so squishy. Their nipples collided as the two ground together, and with them already erect, Nova Milky’s couldn’t help but unleash little spurts of flame onto White Terror’s chest. He tried to hide it, but she could feel his body tense as the hot burst of fire danced across his person.
But above all else, she focused on the most immediately ‘terrifying’ element of White Terror. His dick. Massive relative to his size, and at his current scale, it was not only the size of several planets, but easily the biggest penis that even Nova Milky had ever seen. Meaning not only was she determined to bring him to his apex, she wanted to have fun while doing so.
White Terror knew this was what his enemy wanted, and that the only way to win was to control his urges and go flaccid. But once a penis is in a hole, it does not know where it is, nor does it care where it is. All it cares about is sensation, having something to rub its tender underside against, and that was something Nova Milky was born to achieve. The folds of her burning solar vagina shifted in accord with her partner’s needs, growing to accommodate it before clamping down, embracing it, and all the while, tugging it up and down.
She was definitely adjusting her approach for him, but to Nova Milky, this was simply how the act of sex functioned. To her, sex was an art, your partner was an instrument, and the artist not only had to adapt to the capabilities of the instrument to achieve the best result. With music, that was sound. But with sex, it was nothing but pleasure.
Though her biology was utterly inhuman in every sense, the sheer sense of weight and force behind every action made this feel truly incredible. Every thrust was mighty enough to topple planets. Every motion saw gravity shift and bend as the two naturally drifted closer. And every sensation was fueled by a sense of heat— by bursts of fire— that she could not only withstand, but craved. She desired the pull, desired the heat, and desired the intimacy of the two together, as they grew closer, closer, and closer until White Terror was in as deep as he could.
As Nova Milky immersed her partner in her vaginal clutches, she was rewarded with a blazing hot fire that burst throughout her solar uterus. Her body shook as the impact recoiled throughout her being, and once it subsided, she looked down into White terror’s lifeless white eyes and whispered to him.
Nova Milky: “Thanks for that, but I’ve got one more trick I want to show you.”
Nova Milky released White Terror from her clutches, freeing his chest, arms, legs, and penis as she drifted apart. He brought his hands to his face and looked down at himself, searching for any damage or changes caused by his orgasm, but found nothing. He hadn’t been transformed or altered in any way. He lifted his head to look at Nova Milky… and saw that she was undergoing her own transformation instead.
Her body was rapidly losing the yellows and oranges emblematic of a healthy star, and in its place was red. It was eye-catching, but that was not what surprised White Terror. It was her size. She had grown from being roughly the same size as him to being twice as large, and she was still growing. The change was exponential, rapid, and somehow made White Terror feel even smaller and more insignificant than he did when he was merely two meters tall and staring at a blinking sun.
He tried to focus on the world around him, tried to grow bigger, but he couldn’t. That power was beyond him for reasons he could not comprehend, and the more he tried, the more horrified he became. Once he was the size of a doll compared to Nova Milky, she grabbed him with one hand. He tried to resist, to shout, but he remained silent.
Nova Milky: “Now that I have had your cum dance inside me, I understand you so much better, Love. You were supposed to be a Milky… but something bad happened to you. So, I guess I’ll just need to try again. And what better way to remake you into the form you were always meant to be, than to stick you back into the oven?”
Nova Milky then took White Terror, and shoved him inside her, inserting him past her lower lips of her labia, and into her innards. White Terror found himself pushed through the same tubing that brought him such pleasure mere minutes ago, but instead of brushing up against a ceiling, he was sent into something… deeper. Something hotter than anything he knew was possible. Something that sent him, a creature made of flames, into a feverish pitch. He was desperate for escape, desperate for the cool embrace of space, but there was no way out. No way to defy the will of Nova Milky. And as he tried, he was met with a growing pressure. A pressure that threatened to end his very existence.
Everything grew brighter, hotter, and then… nothing.
White Terror opened his eyes and was met with the sight of space. Except… it all seemed so much smaller than it was before. He moved his head around as he tried to find out where he was, before seeing a star, far, far away in the distance. For a moment, he thought he simply traveled to another solar system, but as he turned his head and saw a planet, he realized that was not the case. He was simply back to his normal size.
Confusion filled his mind as he tried to recall what happened, only for his attention to be diverted inward as he looked down and saw his hands. Hands that were once made for war, yet were now only a fraction of their size. Immediately, he knew what had happened to his form, but he had to confirm it for himself and looked down at his body. At his slender arms, at the DD cup breasts dangling off of his chest, at the flowing white hair that cascaded down his shoulders.
It was the body of a woman. …No. It was the body of a Milky.
White Terror: “No… no, please, this cannot be! He made me into a man, you damn harpy! Oh, how I loathe this body, how I despise this voice! I’ll make you rue the day you made this choice! So show yourself, you blasted whore! Haven’t you even a speck of candor?”
As White terror ranted and raved, he got his wish and Nova Milky appeared before him. Or rather… Ghost Milky.
Ghost Milky: “Hmph! I should have expected as much. Stubborn until the end, but if you try out this form for enough time, I’m sure you’ll come to like it just fine. …That was almost a rhyme, but I’m pretty sure it’s a linguistic crime to rhyme ‘ime’ and ‘ine.’ It probably varies by dimensions…”
White Terror: “Why make me into a woman, why rob me of my class? How am I supposed to conquer this revolting mass?”
Ghost Milky: “Geez, somebody’s got issues. I did this for your own good, White. Something corrupted you long ago, and I wish to help you begin the healing process. I was hoping to get things really going with the form you were supposed to have, but your body is so stubborn that it wouldn’t even let me change your eye color. Or, lack of color I guess is the right way to put it.”
White Terror: “You… You dare speak as if you know that which I desire? Oh, how I wish that I was reduced to ash in that fire. Tell me how I might return to normal, and be quick about it, don’t make it formal.”
Ghost Milky: “Sorry, but no can do. You’re a woman forever, White. And I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it. I mean, nobody has ever not liked being a Milky.”
White Terror did not listen to Ghost Milky. Instead, he tried to undo this transformation. He briefly managed to retract the size of his breasts and rear, but nothing more. Still, he tried and tried for several minutes, ignoring the words of Ghost Milky before coming to the conclusion that… this was his body.
White Terror: “…I am a man, for he made me so. I trust him, as he taught me all I know. My name, my body, my mission. My reason to live, my lone ambition. It’s as important as my very life! Without it, there is nothing but strife! And for this transgression, you shall pay a mighty price. You shall be victim to the unrelenting fury of… Weiss Vice.”
White Terror, or as he called himself, ‘Weiss Vice,’ then glared at Ghost Milky, seething with rage so great that it caused his body to glow. He became drenched in a white aura, a light so intense that it blinded even the astral being before him. And by the time she was able to look at the light… Weiss Vice had vanished. He was gone and, try as she might, Ghost Milky could not sense him.
Not in this world… or any other she knew.
Epilogue: Ghost Milky in… Beach Bummin’
Date: June 23, 2225
Location: Bitz Isles, Rekkum-03
Following the Nova Milky Supernova, the Rekkum solar system was reborn, and its once desolate planets were given life anew. While not every planet was hospitable, it opened up new possibilities for Rekkum-02 and Rekkum-04, and immediately terraformed Rekkum-03. The once desolate world was now strikingly similar to Terra, from its vast blue skies and fluffy white clouds, to its vast seas. Well, that’s not true. The seas were all freshwater, so it was even better than Terra in that sense.
It was a fortunate turn of events and, three years after the rebirth of this world, things were popping off! Cities were being erected across its vast landmass. Architects and city planners were having a field day as they had the opportunity to go hog wild with their designs. However, even without any civilization to speak of, the world was still beautiful, and few places encapsulated that as well as Bitz Isle. A lush tropical paradise with roughly 200 kilometers of land to call its own that boasted an obsidian mountain that valiantly rose into the sky, and beaches with sand as green as its trees.
Despite being completely unsettled, it was the vacation spot of choice for a group of seven Milkies. Cookie, Cream, Cheese, Misa, Gomme, Paneer, and Kase were all chilling in a lounge chair to call their own. They laid back with sunglasses over their eyes, a fruity decorated drink in one hand, and their bodies clothed in nothing more than sandals and a bikini. They were at the height of tranquility, staring at the vast sea and feeling the cool summer wind brush through their hair. They were content to just stay there, saying nothing, for hours at a time, but somebody just had to open her mouth.
Cookie: “How long has it been since we took a vacation like this, girls?”
Cheese: “Pfft. Have you ever taken a vacation, Cookie?”
Cookie: “Hmm… nope! Guess I haven’t!”
Cream: “You’re the one who standardized the thirty-ish hour work week and gave every Milky three months of holiday every year, but never took a vacation yourself?”
Cookie: “Hey, I had a lotta stuff to do!”
Gomme: “She means she chose to do a lotsa stuff. You could’ve just sat on your butt and done nothing after you did so much for the war, but noooo. You just had to be a Commander.”
Cookie: “You’re one to talk. You’ve been at my side for the past century.”
Gomme: “Darn tootin’. And if you remember that, you should remember at least some of the times I said you should step down, take a holiday, or get a backup Gomme instead of taking me everywhere you went.”
Cookie: “I do not take you everywhere I go!”
Paneer: “True. You didn’t take Gomme with you when you went to that conference on Venus in 2164, and you nearly sent the whole space station spiraling into a moon!”
Cookie: “Hey! The MCU department of Spaceship Safety determined that the control system was not adequately able to inform users of erroneous inputs. So it was the ship’s fault, not mine!”
Gomme: “Whatever helps you sleep at night, boss lady.”
Misa: “Girls, don’t get spicy. Just sit back, relax, and be glad that things worked out well three years ago.”
Kase: “Ah crud! Is that why we’re here? To celebrate the defeat of White Terror?”
Paneer: “I mean, he was the greatest threat we’ve encountered in over 160 years, so… yeah?”
Cheese: “It was only a day, but it was a day where I thought I was gonna die… at least three times.”
Cream: “Only three? Every minute I was fighting that freak, I thought I was gonna die.”
Paneer: “You can say that again. You girls were in spaceships when things were going down, or running away, but we were fighting him in the streets along with his entire army.”
Misa: “I’d say I could imagine, but I really don’t want to. Just running away from him for ten minutes was enough.”
Kase: “I still feel like we missed out on something with those Malkies though. I know they weren’t able to exist in a civilized world, but if we could’ve removed White Terror’s influence—”
Cookie: “I’d stop talking if I were you. Ghost Milky put a ban on any further research into Man Milkies for a good reason. …Even though the ones we encountered were just mutations of a concept that was neutral at worst…”
Cream: “Yeah, I get why she did that, but it’s still pretty crummy, as I know lots of girls who would love to give being a man a shot.”
Cheese: “At least we figured out how to replicate the most important part of a Malky before our little test subject went all normal.”
As Cheese said that, she rubbed her bikini bottom, bringing attention to the erect penis barely contained by the thin triangle of cloth.
Paneer: “Ah crud, I knew I was missing something. Um… you girls wouldn’t happen to have any of those pee-pee pills with ya?”
Gomme: “As a technician on that project, I kinda sorta need to keep them with me. People kept asking and it’s just easier to keep a sample bottle with me whenever I leave the Gaggle.”
Misa: “I still can’t believe those things have taken off as much as they did.”
Cookie: “Oh please, like you’ve never thought about what it would be like to have your weiner back.”
Misa: “No, I have never thought of that, because becoming a Milky was a lifelong dream come true for me.”
Kase: “Hold on, did we ever get an update on the whole White Terror situation? Is he just flat out gone?”
Cream: “I’m pretty diligent with my email, and I haven’t seen a peep about him, even in the emails I’m not allowed to share.”
Kase: “Doesn’t that mean he’s just… out there? Ghost Milky said she didn’t know where he could be, so he could be planning a counterattack, and I’m not sure what we could possibly do after that supernova.”
Gomme: “Kase, don’t be silly. If we run into a bigger threat, we just create a double supernova. Or maybe even an octuple supernova! It’s just math!”
Cheese: “I mean, we could plan a counterattack to something that may never happen. Or we could get back to enjoying our vacation. I think that’s a better use of our time. Who’s with me?”
The other six Milkies then took half a second to contemplate this query, before nodding along and voicing their affirmations.
Cookie: “If and when that fateful day comes, we’ll deal with it like we always do! Because Milkies never die, and Milkies are forever! Say it with me, girls!”
Cookie then raised her fruity drink into the sky and her companions did the same, before they all shouted in unison.
Everyone: “Milkies Forever!”
They all then took a long sip of their drink before letting out a satisfied ‘ah’ and returning their eyes to the blue horizon before them, ready to look at it all day long… At least before they saw something poke out of the water.
Something that almost resembled a turtle, with its big black eyes, green and brown reptilian skin, and a beak covering its mouth. Animal life was in short supply after the world’s rebirth, so a sight like this snagged the attention of the seven lounging Milkies. They stared at this turtle-like creature as it drew closer, swimming up to the green sand beach before revealing that it wasn’t actually a turtle. Though its head definitely resembled one, the body beneath was far more… anthropomorphic. With two arms, two legs, three fingers to a hand, and a shell that looked more like a piece of armor or clothing than a natural part of its body.
The Milkies all hopped out of their chairs as they realized that they were having a first encounter with an alien lifeform. But things immediately took on a different tone as the humanoid turtle before them started shouting in an unintelligible language. A cry that caused dozens of humanoid turtles to rise from the water… except these ones were armed with spears and clubs.
Paneer: “So much for a relaxing vacation.”
Cookie: “Fret not, Paneer. I am in the top percentage of Milkies when it comes to physical communication. And I know that there is no better way to make first contact than to show them a good time at fourth base! What do ya say girls?”
Kase: “I want to say no… but I know I’d regret not doing this more than actually doing it, so…”
Misa: “…Without further ado, let’s see if we can assimilate these things!”
The seven Milkies then tore off their underwear and struck a pose, showing off their curvy forms… Except for Kase, who was still as flat as a pancake, but there was a distinct charm in that. In response, the turtle creatures made a guttural howl before rushing forward, their weapons held high. The Milkies smirked at this reaction, dashed forward, and proceeded to kick off this new conflict… Milky style!
The Adventurers of the Milkies are as infinite as the universe, and while their stories may never be told, the spirit of the Milkies shall forever live on in your heart.
Das Ende
The story of Weiss Vice will continue in Psycho Shatter 1988.