Odette couldn't understand what happened
Undeserved Ascendance
chapter 16
by
copier
· original author:
an188
Verosika lounged on the reinforced floor of her oversized quarters like a bored empress on a throne made of lesser beings. She had Loona cradled in one massive palm—eleven feet of hypertrophied, golden-orange perfection casually toying with the bodyguard the way a child might play with a toy soldier. Loona was curled into a fetal position against Verosika’s abs, whimpering happily, tongue lolling slightly as Verosika dragged one long crimson talon gently down her spine.
Odette stood several paces away, clipboard clutched to her chest like a shield, voice small and trembling.
“Verosika… please. Just a few basic scans. Blood draw. Tissue sample. Vitals. We need to understand why you—”
Verosika didn’t even look at her. She lifted Loona higher, nuzzling the bodyguard silver hair with exaggerated affection.
“Awww, listen to the little nerd begging. How tragic.” She flicked her gaze toward Odette—pink eyes glittering with contempt. “No, darling. I’m busy. My puppy needs attention. Run along and invent something useful. Maybe a collar that says ‘Property of Perfection’ for Loony here.”
Loona yipped in delight at the nickname.
Odette’s lip quivered. “But if we don’t understand the mechanism—”
Lute stepped forward—still pale, still rigid, but she knew exactly which lever to pull now that Verosika’s ego had metastasized into something planetary.
“Ma’am,” Lute said crisply, “if the growth was random… uncontrolled… it could happen again. Without warning. In public. On stage. In front of cameras. The entire world would see you lose control of your own body.”
Verosika’s head snapped toward Lute. For a second her smile faltered—then it returned, sharper, meaner.
“Are you implying I’m not in complete control of this masterpiece?” She flexed one bicep; the peak rose so high it nearly brushed her ear, veins throbbing like power cables. “This body does exactly what I tell it to do.”
“Of course, Ma’am,” Lute said instantly. “But imagine the headlines if it happens unexpectedly. ‘Verosika Mayday Outgrows Stadium.’ ‘Queen Bitch Literally Too Big for the World.’ They’ll laugh. They’ll meme you. They’ll think you’re… defective.”
Verosika’s nostrils flared. The word defective hit like acid.
She dropped Loona—gently, like setting down a favorite stuffed animal—then rose to her full eleven-foot height. The chandelier swayed as her head brushed it. She looked down at Lute with the expression of someone who had just stepped in something unpleasant.
“Fine,” she snapped. “But only because I’m curious how much more perfect I can get. And because the idea of peasants trying to comprehend my divinity is hilarious.”
She turned to Lute. “Before I dignify the lab with my presence, call the tailors. Custom everything. I want outfits that scream ‘I’m better than you in every measurable dimension.’ And redesign this entire warehouse—higher ceilings, bigger bed, reinforced everything. I refuse to stoop like some common giraffe.”
Lute saluted—clipped, automatic—and hurried out.
Verosika ducked through the double doors—barely—shoulders scraping the frame, wood splintering slightly. She strode to the lab like a goddess slumming it among mortals, Loona trotting happily at her heels.
Inside, she simply sat cross-legged on the concrete floor. The impact cracked a tile. She scooped Loona into her lap again, petting her like a prized lapdog while Odette—hands shaking—began attaching sensors, electrodes, scanners.
Blood pressure cuff (stretched to breaking), pulse oximeter (tiny on Verosika’s tree-trunk wrist), thermal imaging camera, blood draw (needle looked like a toothpick), full-body MRI (Verosika had to lie down across three gurneys pushed together).
Verosika ignored most of it, cooing at Loona instead.
“Who’s my widdle murder-puppy? Hmm? Who’s going to bite anyone who looks at Mommy funny?”
Loona yipped, nuzzling deeper into Verosika’s cleavage.
The lab door burst open.
Charlie and Cherri stumbled in—Charlie’s ankle-length ponytail swinging wildly, Cherri’s bomb-fuse ponytail bouncing.
Both froze.
Verosika—naked, eleven feet tall, cartoonishly muscular, casually using Loona as a teddy bear—looked up and giggled.
Charlie’s knees buckled. Cherri’s jaw dropped so low her cigarette nearly fell out.
Verosika tilted her head, feigning innocence so viciously it bordered on performance art.
“What’s wrong, darlings? You look like you’ve seen a goddess. Which, to be fair… you have.”
Charlie managed a strangled, “V-Verosika… you’re… huge.”
Verosika blinked slowly. “Am I? I hadn’t noticed.” She flexed one pec; the breast bounced like a wrecking ball. “Must be the lighting.”
Cherri finally found words, voice cracking. “Mate… you’re eleven bloody feet tall and built like a fuckin’ kaiju pin-up. What the hell happened?!”
Verosika laughed—bright, cruel, delighted. “Honestly, Cherri, I don’t care. I love it. Look at me. I’m literally too perfect for this tiny little world now.”
Odette cleared her throat, voice shaking. “She… grew overnight. I can’t explain it yet. Cellular expansion, mass increase, no detectable energy source. I’m still running tests.”
Charlie clutched her ponytail like a stress ball. “We have to cancel the tour. There’s no explaining this. The fans will—”
Verosika’s smile vanished. “Cancel?” Her voice dropped into dangerous silk. “No, Charlie. The tour goes on. Harder. Bigger. Nastier. This—” she gestured at her hypertrophied body “—is the new brand. Muscle Bitch 2.0. They’ll eat it up. They always do.”
Cherri’s eyes lit up, manic grin spreading. “Fuck yes! Oi, think about it—‘Verosika: Too Big to Fail’ tour! Giant screens, hydraulic stages, her smashing props with one hand! She’ll be the next bloody phenomenon! Bigger than Beyoncé, bigger than the bloody Beatles! Let’s lean in, mate!”
Charlie gaped. “Cherri—!”
The two began arguing—Charlie frantic, Cherri enthusiastic—while Verosika giggled, petting Loona’s head like she was watching a mildly amusing sitcom.
Odette suddenly stepped forward, face pale.
“I… I can’t find anything. No radiation spike, no viral trigger, no genetic anomaly I can detect. The growth is stable now, but the cause… I don’t know. I need more time. More samples. More observation.”
Verosika yawned theatrically. “Then keep looking, darling. I’m sure the universe will eventually catch up to how perfect I am.”
What happens next?
1. Odette asks Verosika to stay in the lab for further tests.
2. Verosika returns to her quarters for measurements and a meeting with her team about what happened to her and the impact on her career.
Odette stood several paces away, clipboard clutched to her chest like a shield, voice small and trembling.
“Verosika… please. Just a few basic scans. Blood draw. Tissue sample. Vitals. We need to understand why you—”
Verosika didn’t even look at her. She lifted Loona higher, nuzzling the bodyguard silver hair with exaggerated affection.
“Awww, listen to the little nerd begging. How tragic.” She flicked her gaze toward Odette—pink eyes glittering with contempt. “No, darling. I’m busy. My puppy needs attention. Run along and invent something useful. Maybe a collar that says ‘Property of Perfection’ for Loony here.”
Loona yipped in delight at the nickname.
Odette’s lip quivered. “But if we don’t understand the mechanism—”
Lute stepped forward—still pale, still rigid, but she knew exactly which lever to pull now that Verosika’s ego had metastasized into something planetary.
“Ma’am,” Lute said crisply, “if the growth was random… uncontrolled… it could happen again. Without warning. In public. On stage. In front of cameras. The entire world would see you lose control of your own body.”
Verosika’s head snapped toward Lute. For a second her smile faltered—then it returned, sharper, meaner.
“Are you implying I’m not in complete control of this masterpiece?” She flexed one bicep; the peak rose so high it nearly brushed her ear, veins throbbing like power cables. “This body does exactly what I tell it to do.”
“Of course, Ma’am,” Lute said instantly. “But imagine the headlines if it happens unexpectedly. ‘Verosika Mayday Outgrows Stadium.’ ‘Queen Bitch Literally Too Big for the World.’ They’ll laugh. They’ll meme you. They’ll think you’re… defective.”
Verosika’s nostrils flared. The word defective hit like acid.
She dropped Loona—gently, like setting down a favorite stuffed animal—then rose to her full eleven-foot height. The chandelier swayed as her head brushed it. She looked down at Lute with the expression of someone who had just stepped in something unpleasant.
“Fine,” she snapped. “But only because I’m curious how much more perfect I can get. And because the idea of peasants trying to comprehend my divinity is hilarious.”
She turned to Lute. “Before I dignify the lab with my presence, call the tailors. Custom everything. I want outfits that scream ‘I’m better than you in every measurable dimension.’ And redesign this entire warehouse—higher ceilings, bigger bed, reinforced everything. I refuse to stoop like some common giraffe.”
Lute saluted—clipped, automatic—and hurried out.
Verosika ducked through the double doors—barely—shoulders scraping the frame, wood splintering slightly. She strode to the lab like a goddess slumming it among mortals, Loona trotting happily at her heels.
Inside, she simply sat cross-legged on the concrete floor. The impact cracked a tile. She scooped Loona into her lap again, petting her like a prized lapdog while Odette—hands shaking—began attaching sensors, electrodes, scanners.
Blood pressure cuff (stretched to breaking), pulse oximeter (tiny on Verosika’s tree-trunk wrist), thermal imaging camera, blood draw (needle looked like a toothpick), full-body MRI (Verosika had to lie down across three gurneys pushed together).
Verosika ignored most of it, cooing at Loona instead.
“Who’s my widdle murder-puppy? Hmm? Who’s going to bite anyone who looks at Mommy funny?”
Loona yipped, nuzzling deeper into Verosika’s cleavage.
The lab door burst open.
Charlie and Cherri stumbled in—Charlie’s ankle-length ponytail swinging wildly, Cherri’s bomb-fuse ponytail bouncing.
Both froze.
Verosika—naked, eleven feet tall, cartoonishly muscular, casually using Loona as a teddy bear—looked up and giggled.
Charlie’s knees buckled. Cherri’s jaw dropped so low her cigarette nearly fell out.
Verosika tilted her head, feigning innocence so viciously it bordered on performance art.
“What’s wrong, darlings? You look like you’ve seen a goddess. Which, to be fair… you have.”
Charlie managed a strangled, “V-Verosika… you’re… huge.”
Verosika blinked slowly. “Am I? I hadn’t noticed.” She flexed one pec; the breast bounced like a wrecking ball. “Must be the lighting.”
Cherri finally found words, voice cracking. “Mate… you’re eleven bloody feet tall and built like a fuckin’ kaiju pin-up. What the hell happened?!”
Verosika laughed—bright, cruel, delighted. “Honestly, Cherri, I don’t care. I love it. Look at me. I’m literally too perfect for this tiny little world now.”
Odette cleared her throat, voice shaking. “She… grew overnight. I can’t explain it yet. Cellular expansion, mass increase, no detectable energy source. I’m still running tests.”
Charlie clutched her ponytail like a stress ball. “We have to cancel the tour. There’s no explaining this. The fans will—”
Verosika’s smile vanished. “Cancel?” Her voice dropped into dangerous silk. “No, Charlie. The tour goes on. Harder. Bigger. Nastier. This—” she gestured at her hypertrophied body “—is the new brand. Muscle Bitch 2.0. They’ll eat it up. They always do.”
Cherri’s eyes lit up, manic grin spreading. “Fuck yes! Oi, think about it—‘Verosika: Too Big to Fail’ tour! Giant screens, hydraulic stages, her smashing props with one hand! She’ll be the next bloody phenomenon! Bigger than Beyoncé, bigger than the bloody Beatles! Let’s lean in, mate!”
Charlie gaped. “Cherri—!”
The two began arguing—Charlie frantic, Cherri enthusiastic—while Verosika giggled, petting Loona’s head like she was watching a mildly amusing sitcom.
Odette suddenly stepped forward, face pale.
“I… I can’t find anything. No radiation spike, no viral trigger, no genetic anomaly I can detect. The growth is stable now, but the cause… I don’t know. I need more time. More samples. More observation.”
Verosika yawned theatrically. “Then keep looking, darling. I’m sure the universe will eventually catch up to how perfect I am.”
What happens next?
1. Odette asks Verosika to stay in the lab for further tests.
2. Verosika returns to her quarters for measurements and a meeting with her team about what happened to her and the impact on her career.
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June 13
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