Scientist on the phone
Undeserved Ascendance
chapter 7
by
copier
· original author:
an188
Verosika's bright pink eyes sparkled with a toxic mix of malice and greed, her sly smile twisting into something sharper as she watched Loona pause, the bodyguard's breath hot against her skin. But the interruption had already shifted her focus—like a cat spotting a new toy. "Give me the phone, Niffty," she commanded, her voice dripping with entitled impatience, one long leg retracting from Loona's grasp.
Niffty bobbed her head frantically, kimono sleeves fluttering. "Hai! Hai! Right away, Miss Mayday-sama!" She scampered to the bedside table, snatched the sleek pink smartphone—bedazzled with diamonds spelling "QUEEN"—and presented it on both palms like a sacred relic, bowing low.
Loona, still on her knees with her crop top half-off, let out a quiet, resigned sigh. The game was over; her mistress's whims had pivoted, as they always did. She rose silently, pulling her tattered grey top back down over her wolf-tattooed torso, and took her post beside the bed—arms folded across her massive chest, green eyes staring blankly at the wall. A shadow once more.
Verosika snatched the phone without thanks, swiping to answer. "What?" she snapped, then her tone softened into something faux-sweet, laced with calculation. "Odette? Darling... it's late. This better be good."
On the line was Odette—Verosika's forgotten high school "friend," or rather, her unwitting tool from those days. Verosika had no real friends; people were props, and Odette had been a perfect one: the nerdy, straight-A student who'd done her homework, slipped her test answers, and endured her teasing without complaint. As soon as graduation hit and Verosika's music career exploded, Odette vanished from her mind—off to some elite university studying biology, chemistry, and human physiology, buried in labs while Verosika conquered stages.
Fate—or Verosika's boredom—had reunited them at a spring break gig Verosika performed at Odette's campus. The mousy girl had approached backstage, starry-eyed, and Verosika hadn't recognized her at first. Amused by the awkward reunion, she'd agreed to drinks, planning a quick public humiliation for old times' sake. But as Odette got tipsy and rambled about her research—a revolutionary formula to combat aging, enhance beauty, and rejuvenate the body, allowing endless hedonism without consequences like hangovers, weight gain, or wrinkles—Verosika's interest sharpened.
She'd mocked her at first, prodding until Odette spilled every detail: the science, the trials, the potential. But Verosika's sharp mind caught the truth in the slurred words. Eternal youth? A body that could party forever without paying the price? It was greed incarnate. Over the next few weeks, Verosika "renewed" their friendship—seducing the lonely nerd with flattery, gifts, and calculated intimacy, weaving a web of manipulation until Odette was hers: vassal, servant, slave. Verosika funded the research lavishly, buying a private lab in a discreet coastal warehouse near Havenridge, isolating Odette there with orders to perfect the formula exclusively for her.
Now, Odette's voice bubbled with excitement through the speaker. "Verosika! It's ready! The serum—I've stabilized it! The trials on the mice... eternal youth, enhanced vitality, no cellular degradation. You have to come now—it's perfect!"
Verosika's lips curled into a smug grin, her free hand idly twirling a lock of pastel pink hair. "Finally. Don't move. I'm coming."
She hung up without goodbye, tossing the phone aside. "Loona—get the car. The boring one. We're sneaking out."
Half an hour later, they pulled up to the nondescript warehouse lab in a rented black sedan—nothing flashy, no entourage. Loona drove in silence, her massive hands gripping the wheel, while Verosika lounged in the back, robe swapped for a simple black hoodie and leggings that still hugged her curves like a second skin. Niffty had been left behind with strict orders to guard the suite and spread more rumors online.
The lab door buzzed open at Verosika's approach. Inside was a sterile wonderland: humming machines, glowing screens, cages of test subjects. Odette waited at the central workbench—a tall, thin 21-year-old with humanoid grace, white skin pale from endless indoor hours, long light blonde hair tied in a high ponytail. She adjusted her black circular-rimmed glasses with red-tinted lenses, her long white lab coat buttoned over a black turtleneck, black gloves reaching her elbows, black tights, and gray pointé shoes giving her a severe, ballerina-like poise.
"Verosika!" Odette's voice trembled with awe and nerves, eyes lighting up behind the lenses. "You're here. It's... it's done."
She held up a test tube filled with a glowing pink liquid—viscous, shimmering like liquid starlight. "The formula integrates nanotechnology with bio-engineered peptides and telomere extenders. It reprograms cellular senescence, boosts collagen synthesis by 300%, enhances metabolic efficiency to negate caloric overload or toxin buildup—eternal youth, flawless skin, boundless energy. No more aging, no consequences from... well, your lifestyle."
Verosika's eyes fixed on the tube, greedy and malicious, barely registering the jargon. Science was a tool, like everything else. "Spare me the nerd talk, Odette. Does it work?"
Odette nodded eagerly. "Yes! But—"
"Inject me. Now."
Odette hesitated, biting her lip. "There's... a side effect. I discovered it in the final trials. Not sure how it'll manifest in humans." She gestured to a nearby cage, where a lab mouse—once scrawny—now bulged with exaggerated muscles, scampering with unnatural strength, bending the wire bars slightly. "Increased myostatin inhibition. It... builds muscle mass aggressively. Strength surges. This mouse could overpower ten normals. If it happens to you..."
Verosika threw back her head and laughed—a wicked, echoing cackle that filled the lab. She reached out, trailing one long, crimson nail over Loona's bulging bicep, feeling the bodyguard tense under her touch. "Oh, darling... I wouldn't complain if I ended up as ripped as my little Mutt here." She glanced up at Loona, smirking. "What do you think, Loony? Should Mistress get some muscles to match yours?"
Loona's voice was brief, stoic. "If it pleases you, Mistress."
Verosika's grin widened. "See? Perfect. Do it, Odette."
Odette swallowed, hands shaking slightly as she drew the serum into a syringe. Verosika turned, dropping her leggings just enough to expose one firm, shapely buttock. The needle slid in—cold, quick—and the pink liquid flooded her system.
What happens next?
1. Verosika becomes beautiful and shapely but not muscular.
2. Verosika becomes beautiful and muscular.
Niffty bobbed her head frantically, kimono sleeves fluttering. "Hai! Hai! Right away, Miss Mayday-sama!" She scampered to the bedside table, snatched the sleek pink smartphone—bedazzled with diamonds spelling "QUEEN"—and presented it on both palms like a sacred relic, bowing low.
Loona, still on her knees with her crop top half-off, let out a quiet, resigned sigh. The game was over; her mistress's whims had pivoted, as they always did. She rose silently, pulling her tattered grey top back down over her wolf-tattooed torso, and took her post beside the bed—arms folded across her massive chest, green eyes staring blankly at the wall. A shadow once more.
Verosika snatched the phone without thanks, swiping to answer. "What?" she snapped, then her tone softened into something faux-sweet, laced with calculation. "Odette? Darling... it's late. This better be good."
On the line was Odette—Verosika's forgotten high school "friend," or rather, her unwitting tool from those days. Verosika had no real friends; people were props, and Odette had been a perfect one: the nerdy, straight-A student who'd done her homework, slipped her test answers, and endured her teasing without complaint. As soon as graduation hit and Verosika's music career exploded, Odette vanished from her mind—off to some elite university studying biology, chemistry, and human physiology, buried in labs while Verosika conquered stages.
Fate—or Verosika's boredom—had reunited them at a spring break gig Verosika performed at Odette's campus. The mousy girl had approached backstage, starry-eyed, and Verosika hadn't recognized her at first. Amused by the awkward reunion, she'd agreed to drinks, planning a quick public humiliation for old times' sake. But as Odette got tipsy and rambled about her research—a revolutionary formula to combat aging, enhance beauty, and rejuvenate the body, allowing endless hedonism without consequences like hangovers, weight gain, or wrinkles—Verosika's interest sharpened.
She'd mocked her at first, prodding until Odette spilled every detail: the science, the trials, the potential. But Verosika's sharp mind caught the truth in the slurred words. Eternal youth? A body that could party forever without paying the price? It was greed incarnate. Over the next few weeks, Verosika "renewed" their friendship—seducing the lonely nerd with flattery, gifts, and calculated intimacy, weaving a web of manipulation until Odette was hers: vassal, servant, slave. Verosika funded the research lavishly, buying a private lab in a discreet coastal warehouse near Havenridge, isolating Odette there with orders to perfect the formula exclusively for her.
Now, Odette's voice bubbled with excitement through the speaker. "Verosika! It's ready! The serum—I've stabilized it! The trials on the mice... eternal youth, enhanced vitality, no cellular degradation. You have to come now—it's perfect!"
Verosika's lips curled into a smug grin, her free hand idly twirling a lock of pastel pink hair. "Finally. Don't move. I'm coming."
She hung up without goodbye, tossing the phone aside. "Loona—get the car. The boring one. We're sneaking out."
Half an hour later, they pulled up to the nondescript warehouse lab in a rented black sedan—nothing flashy, no entourage. Loona drove in silence, her massive hands gripping the wheel, while Verosika lounged in the back, robe swapped for a simple black hoodie and leggings that still hugged her curves like a second skin. Niffty had been left behind with strict orders to guard the suite and spread more rumors online.
The lab door buzzed open at Verosika's approach. Inside was a sterile wonderland: humming machines, glowing screens, cages of test subjects. Odette waited at the central workbench—a tall, thin 21-year-old with humanoid grace, white skin pale from endless indoor hours, long light blonde hair tied in a high ponytail. She adjusted her black circular-rimmed glasses with red-tinted lenses, her long white lab coat buttoned over a black turtleneck, black gloves reaching her elbows, black tights, and gray pointé shoes giving her a severe, ballerina-like poise.
"Verosika!" Odette's voice trembled with awe and nerves, eyes lighting up behind the lenses. "You're here. It's... it's done."
She held up a test tube filled with a glowing pink liquid—viscous, shimmering like liquid starlight. "The formula integrates nanotechnology with bio-engineered peptides and telomere extenders. It reprograms cellular senescence, boosts collagen synthesis by 300%, enhances metabolic efficiency to negate caloric overload or toxin buildup—eternal youth, flawless skin, boundless energy. No more aging, no consequences from... well, your lifestyle."
Verosika's eyes fixed on the tube, greedy and malicious, barely registering the jargon. Science was a tool, like everything else. "Spare me the nerd talk, Odette. Does it work?"
Odette nodded eagerly. "Yes! But—"
"Inject me. Now."
Odette hesitated, biting her lip. "There's... a side effect. I discovered it in the final trials. Not sure how it'll manifest in humans." She gestured to a nearby cage, where a lab mouse—once scrawny—now bulged with exaggerated muscles, scampering with unnatural strength, bending the wire bars slightly. "Increased myostatin inhibition. It... builds muscle mass aggressively. Strength surges. This mouse could overpower ten normals. If it happens to you..."
Verosika threw back her head and laughed—a wicked, echoing cackle that filled the lab. She reached out, trailing one long, crimson nail over Loona's bulging bicep, feeling the bodyguard tense under her touch. "Oh, darling... I wouldn't complain if I ended up as ripped as my little Mutt here." She glanced up at Loona, smirking. "What do you think, Loony? Should Mistress get some muscles to match yours?"
Loona's voice was brief, stoic. "If it pleases you, Mistress."
Verosika's grin widened. "See? Perfect. Do it, Odette."
Odette swallowed, hands shaking slightly as she drew the serum into a syringe. Verosika turned, dropping her leggings just enough to expose one firm, shapely buttock. The needle slid in—cold, quick—and the pink liquid flooded her system.
What happens next?
1. Verosika becomes beautiful and shapely but not muscular.
2. Verosika becomes beautiful and muscular.
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·
June 13
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