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Reading The Label - Part 3 (Commission for Axel1)
🕑 Added 2022-11-01 16:50:35 +0000 UTCTAGS: Growth/Expansion, Muscle Growth, Giantess TF, SHORK
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And it had to happen, because she wasn’t yet complete. She was big, yes, she was absolutely gargantuan, enough that the city around her became smaller and smaller with each step, but she wasn’t done; already Mako could tell that her growth was beginning to dwindle, that the pitiful amount of fuel she’d consumed back at the supermarket had burned up, leaving her dangerously close to a tipping point beyond which she’d have no choice but to shrink down from. If she didn’t eat any more fish, then she wouldn’t be able to keep going.
In her first transformation, this had been the exact moment where her better judgement kicked in. Granted a single moment of lucidity, Mako had taken one good look at herself, recognised that she’d gone too far, and proceeded to throw herself into a locked room inside an armored bunker to weather out the rest of the change. Back then, she made the difficult decision to let go of her perfection, the shock of her new self being too much for her to process; it was less a promise of greatness to her as it was something too new to be accepted, and in that one moment of uncertainty, Mako sealed her fate.
That, however, was back then. This was now.
What was she? Objectively speaking, what even was she? A giantess, at first; a good look around would reveal that her height matched or surpassed that of multiple buildings, to the point where she could use their roofs as armrests; if she had to put a number to it, she was likely well over a hundred feet tall, if not even more, absolutely towering over everything and anything else in the city apart from some of the larger office buildings and the downtown skyline. Certainly far bigger than any of the people scurrying about at her feet, most of whom had already turned to active, blind worship.
And what was she? A hybridisation of a human with the best characteristics of one of the ocean’s apex predators, merged together to create perfection incarnate: endless stamina, a wellspring of muscle power that seemed bottomless, the ability to change and warp her body to adapt to any challenge thrown at it, leaving her in a position where, by that point, just standing was enough to encourage muscle growth. And this was just the start as well; all she’d done was walk around, and already her body was so exaggeratedly bulky that it bordered on the impossible. Who knew what might happen to her once she actually started trying, when she did something as ridiculous as lift cargo ships just to see what would happen?
Lastly, what was she? In the grand scheme of things, she used to be no one but Mako, a genetic scientist under the employ of yet another large corporation who wanted nothing more than to pad out their bottom line; the entire project wasn’t even meant to produce a viable genemodding agent, being more focused on identifying key sequences that could later be used for a potential treatment. It was only through Mako’s own hard work (as well as a considerable amount of luck) that a viable therapy was produced; her own hard work that had fashioned her body into what it was at that exact moment.
Thus, a question was begged: why should she turn back? Back during her first transformation, the answer was simple: she was terrified, and in a moment of weakness, chose to turn back rather than face the uncertainty of whatever lay ahead. In a moment of weakness, her lucidity got the better of her, locking away any option that involved accepting who she was, planting the seeds of self-doubt within her. In that moment of weakness, Mako considered the possibility that she might want to go back, that her primary motivation should be to find a way to “cure” herself of the genetic “accident” and return to her old, boring life.
This was, to put it mildly, horseshit. Looking at herself as she was now, at the gargantuan sharkess that existed only because she herself had willed it, how could she not want herself to remain that way? Why, in all that was holy, would she ever want to go back? If anything, she was only getting started; it was clear that as long as she ate fish on a semi-regular basis, then her transformation could be kept going, and if this was abstracted at a high enough level… how different was it from her old self?
Even as a “regular” human, Mako still needed to eat. Maybe not just fish, but if she stopped eating, then she wouldn’t be going for longer than a couple of weeks; she had needs, physiological demands that she couldn’t ignore, the sole difference being that these ones didn’t elevate her to the status of a living goddess. By comparison, having to just eat fish whenever she was hungry, and to in return receive all of that was nothing short of an absolute bargain, and indeed not much of an adaptation at all; what she needed was to just stay around the coastline, and there was plenty of that to go around.
So, once again, she had to ask herself: why go back? If she could easily maintain her new body as it was, and if there was nothing anyone could do about it, then there weren’t those many reasons for her to want to “fix” herself; there wasn’t anything to fix, as far as she was concerned, with every flaw she could’ve possibly had having been addressed by the ascension itself. Meek, harmless, and unable to lift half her body weight in groceries? Well, one of her biceps alone was now the size of a truck and she could effortlessly lift one of those with a single arm. Too small to reach the top shelf? Her new shadow was long enough to plunge a significant chunk of the avenue behind her into twilight.
Thoroughly unsatisfied with the way she looked? Those little ones at her ankles were literally calling out for her, making up new and grandiose titles to bestow upon her, given they didn’t know her name; nor did she feel the need to grace them with that knowledge, because it didn’t matter. Maybe, in some remote corner of her mind, Mako was still Mako; her sense of self still existed after all, and it needed some anchor to keep itself grounded in reality.
Now though, it almost felt comical to refer to herself as Mako. Mako was who she used to be: a tiny, unassuming young woman whose greatest claim to fame was having a laboratory all by herself… and not even hers, but belonging to her employer. Maybe, in this alternate timeline, her name would go down in history as a footnote written in bold letters, a reference or quoted source that popped up more frequently than normal. Maybe, posthumously, people would remember her as a slightly more important figure in the development of gene therapy, though still thoroughly outshone by later, more important figures.
And while this would’ve been more than enough for the Mako-that-was, the one who spent thousands getting a diploma to then labour away at sheets and electron microscope readouts, it wasn’t enough for this Mako… though, Mako was no longer the correct name. The sharkess didn’t know what was, but she’d have to go through at some point; truly sit down and reconsider what she should call herself, a brand new name for a brand new goddess, one befitting someone whose mere presence could alter the course of reality itself.
Was this too much? Perhaps. The giantess exchanged a private chuckle with herself when some measure of sense filtered back into her; not enough that she began having second thoughts about her current situation, but… definitely enough for her to recognise this was an option. After the mind-rending high of the transformation itself, it seemed as if the world was growing clearer, her clouded perception turning keener and more well-attuned with reality as it actually was. It was lucidity, yet, not the kind that had plagued her before.
Rather, it was just… herself. Standing there, looking at a city that didn’t become smaller by the second anymore, the giantess came to be. She was there again, rather than in the back of her own brain, having woken up from a dream to be in full control of her body once more. She could move her arms at her own behest, could take a step in one direction and actually have her body obey her; she could open her mouth and snap her jaw shut, and it wouldn’t take place with a several second delay. And, perhaps most importantly, she could look at a mirror, point to herself, and recognise that yes, that was who she was.
All of this, and yet she didn’t want to go back anymore. For a moment or two, the sharkess was genuinely concerned that instinct would take over again; that, after falling back down into herself, the old Mako would rear her ugly head and beg for the two of them to go back to the boring old monotony of everyday life. But… no such thing happened. Be it the fact that she’d done so much damage to her surroundings that “going back” was impossible, her having become that massive in the first place, or something else entirely, the sharkess was perfectly fine the way she was; more than, in fact, enough that her goal had remained entirely unchanged.
Down the avenue, then over a corner, the harbor district was waiting for her. The scent of fresh fish wafting through the air into her nostrils let the giantess know that her true site of ascension was just there, waiting for her to get closer. She didn’t need to do much; eating fish wasn’t exactly rocket science, nor was the simple act of walking. All that was required of her was the will to take a step forward, then another step, and then another and another in short sequence, until the ground rumbled underneath her advance again.
Those watching were not made privy to that moment of internal realisation; the epiphany had last naught but a second or two, and even those most attentive of worshippers were willing to disregard it as just a short pause. They had better things to do, things like find the nearest spot on the shark goddess’ body that they could climb onto, things like find new and lewder ways of worshipping her very form, even if the giantess herself barely, if at all, noticed them. They had better things to do, like give up their lives in service of their new divinity, all while said divinity made ready to turn itself into an even greater, more powerful form.
There was a great big toothy smile on the sharkess’ face once she rounded that corner and saw the ships docked at the end of the street, where concrete and tarmac gave way to more traditional paved stone and a multitude of jetties stretching out into the water. It wasn’t an industrial-sized harbour in the slightest, but it was a very active fish market, perhaps one of the biggest in the region; one step closer to it and the delicious smell of fresh fish became ever more powerful and irresistible, promising so much more if only she made it to the end.
Already she could feel herself growing again. The groaning of straining skin, the creaking of her form as it struggled to pack on further mass without the adequate fuel for it; her soul was a raging furnace, demanding sustenance, augmenting her form even while running on fumes, just so she may know what awaited her once the feasting truly commenced. And, for her, this was precisely how things were meant to go; she was a goddess, and it was only fair that her body and self should reflect this.
She was ready for her ascension.
