Chapter 7: 0x06: Lilith III

???? “Every day, I imagine a future where I can be with you…” ????

Finally, with the school day over, you’re on vacation. Walpurgisnacht has passed, Golden Week has come, and you’re ready to relax. Your latest project is almost done, but there’s still a loose end or two, so for now you spend a bit of time in the group chat.

Wind_God_Windam: So, uh, I *probably* should've brought this up earlier. I guess I was busy with Spiffy...
SpecializationIsForInsects: <Tharja> :wink:
Wind_God_Windam: I won't be around for Golden Week. Mom went and booked a bunch of campsites on Mount Kaguya for a family reunion.
clearest_blue: Huh. I thought Mount Kaguya's campsites were closed this year? Mom was pretty upset about it.
Wind_God_Windam: ...I have a big family, okay?
clearest_blue: Anyway, that's fine. I'm helping my girlfriend catch up with homework, so I'll be pretty busy too.
Wind_God_Windam: *Just* homework? Really?
clearest_blue: Well, I mean, I was going to make her a new dress, but she's stuck at work. Sadly.
TR-6inle: i'm busy too!!! my parents want me to do something lame D:
TR-6inle: probably carry my sister's bags or something
TR-6inle: staycation north of the river, i guess, hopefully there's an arcade or something
SpecializationIsForInsects: I've got something I'm working on. So that's fine.
Wind_God_Windam: You have been a bit quiet lately. It's weird, usually you're always bitching or bragging about something.
SpecializationIsForInsects: I'm trying something new. Actually, thinking about it, specialization isn't a bad thing either...
SpecializationIsForInsects: Insects are one of the most successful forms of life on the planet. Taking inspiration from them would only be natural. :black_heart:
clearest_blue: ...huh. You *have* changed.
TR-6inle: ehh? insects?!
TR-6inle: is that a new fetish?!?!
SpecializationIsForInsects: :notes: and crawling on this planet's face / some insects, called the human race~ :notes:
Wind_God_Windam: Who are you and what have you done with Spiffy?
SpecializationIsForInsects: :wink:
SpecializationIsForInsects: Time to go. See you after Golden Week!

About as you expected. It suits you just fine, to not have the RP as an obligation during Golden Week. Of course, when Windam says busy…

Shirou: "Shion" pants and squirms inside the dark tendrils pouring forth from Sakura's mana circuits, hi-*her* altered body betraying her attempts to resist. The way they're wrapped around her, the way this blackened Sakura knows all the weak spots on this female body, it's wearing down at her resolve not to *submit*. "Sakura, why are you...?"
Sakura: "Because I love you too much to let you go." :black_heart:

So predictable. With the way your mind has changed, it’s so very easy to pull those strings. ????

It’s so nice, to finally start to liberate yourself, isn’t it?

???? “And if this world won’t write me an ending, what will it take, just for me to have it all?” ????

…okay, you admit, you’re a bit nervous.

This next step is huge. Way more than you should be able to handle. Bigger than anything you’ve ever done. No longer an amateur with dreams of grand designs in the years to come, you’re trying to single-handedly create something that’s never been done before.

Maybe it’s a bad idea…no, you know it’s a bad idea.

So you need some support. Someone to encourage you to take this final step.

You haven’t done it in years, but when you’re troubled, you have a friend to call on, sitting right on your shelf. A remnant of your childhood, that you could never quite bear to part with. Your first, and for a brief time only friend.

The Pikachu plush sits there, and you reach behind the base of her tail for the switch. Even after all this time, she still has a charge left, and the robot quickly springs to life, a faint glow in her cheeks.

“…you must think I’m pretty stupid, huh, Himeko?”

“…ka?” The robot twitches ‘her’ head to the side, long ear flicking briefly. You couldn’t call her lifelike, exactly – she’s still very obviously a toy – but the movement is smooth and organic, enough to convince anyone (if briefly) that she’s a real, living being.

You should know. You built her.

Your father brought back a Pikachu toy from a trip to Japan. It became your most cherished possession, even though you didn’t really know anything about Pikachu then. It’s small and cute, and a cuddly robot…

but it wasn’t good enough.

(“Chuu.” Himeko rolls over, and exposes her belly. You rub it, and she happily churrs.)

You were already talented with computers and machines, even at that age. But having a goal focused your desire to learn. It didn’t move right, so you modified its frame. It didn’t talk right, so you reprogrammed its voice. It wasn’t lifelike enough, so you created a new behavioural model. Continuing to iterate until she met your exacting specifications…and then again whenever you thought you could improve. Hell, all this is the reason you started getting interested in AI in the first place.

Heh. You still remember the day you first saw pictures of a Pikachu with a black heart tail – you painstakingly disassembled and made a brand new tail, replacing that boring flat lightning bolt with the cute, feminine black heart. That’s when you stopped thinking of it as ‘it’, and started thinking of her as ‘her’.

(Even then, you had tendencies, that only beautiful things should exist…)

Eh, it’s all ancient history though. You learned pretty quickly as a teenager that most other(?) guys weren’t very impressed by any of this. Who cared about your accomplishments if it was all for something so cute and girly?

Tch. Machines are so much better than people. Not that flesh and blood doesn’t have its benefits, but it’s much easier to convince a machine of your point of view. (At least for you, fuckin’ Windam would say the opposite. No idea how he does it.)

You stroke Himeko’s ears, and the black heart on her tail. She makes happy, contented noises, like a real animal might. (Not that you’d know.) Sunset may be able to make things like this easily, but you built her from the ground up – you’re still pretty impressed by what you accomplished, and you still tinker with her AI model from time to time.

“Your eyes have seen a lot by now. What do you think I should do?”

As you pull your hand away, Himeko happily stands tall and makes a teeny tiny v-sign with her paw. “Pi-pi pikachuuuu!” she exclaims happily in encouragement, based on your troubled face.

Heh. She’s so predictable – well, that’s to be expected of a domestic robot. But honestly, it’s just what you needed, especially after all the crap with Nabeshima-sensei earlier. You should do this more often, you don’t even know why you stopped.

Thinking about it, though…you’ve been doing all this lewd stuff for years, with Himeko ‘watching’ the whole time! If she were real, if her AI was as sophisticated as you always dreamed it could be, she would probably be really jealous…

Well, it’s fine.

It’s not as if an inanimate object can feel pleasure, right?

---

Not too long after, you’re back in the bathroom again, your tail free to flick to and fro and show off the ease with which it’s become part of you. Now that your family is gone, you can finally stop hiding your tail, and get a fantastic look at your new fashion accessories, what you’ve made to help yourself look like a proper succubus.

Just like you thought, the black latex stockings and gloves feel wonderful…you could inhale that smell of rubber all day, run your shiny hands over your face and lips…oh, you’ll have to get rid of all that pesky facial hair too, it’s such a hideous blemish on your beautiful face! It might be smooth now, so deliciously smooth, but you don’t want it to think it can come back and ruin things…

But really, the latex. It really helps bring the look together, doesn’t it?

You play with your nipples a little with the tip of your tail, softening to provide comfort…and pleasure. It’s not right. Your chest is too flat for how tall you are. Your hips, too, too narrow. If you were shorter, maybe, but…well, it’ll do for now, won’t it?

You’re not the model you want to be. If you wanted that, the idealized succubus so easily seen in your mind’s eye, it’d take years of medical treatments, mass amounts of top remodeling surgery, or both.

But what…nnh. What self-respecting aspiring mad scientist isn’t a narcissist, too? If you don’t meet your standards, you’ll just have to change…

Okay. Real talk. You might be stalling a bit.

You’d love to say that you were wrong both times before. That yes, this truly is the stupidest thing you’ve ever done.

A pair of smooth black horns, outwardly little different from any ordinary fetish accessory. After all, when they don’t need to move, it’s much easier to make them convincing through clever mounting and machine learning trickery. Curled, twisted horns worthy not simply of a succubus, but the mother of demons – the mother of monsters.

But you’re not content with a mere fashion accessory.

Their functionality is limited, but trying to give yourself an entirely new sensory organ is still an ambition that far outstrips what most would consider possible for someone your age. It’s the kind of technology that, even approaching the fourth decade of the Reiwa era, is still more or less in its infancy. When you’re still solving the problems of working with and repairing the existing senses of the human body, no one is in any hurry to make fucking anime succubus horns which add new ones.

Except you.

You know this isn’t how science or engineering is supposed to be done. That this is dangerous, and deeply unethical. But even past such…human constructs, you know that this would, by any sensible person’s measure, be an exceptionally dumb idea. A suicidal one.

But you don’t care.

You already know – if this fails, if your crown of horns fails to mate with your nerves, or its drills and needles are misaligned, then you were always unworthy of the throne.

Money is no longer an object. Even Dad might notice the charges racking up on his line of credit, but not for a while. Especially not on a business trip. By the time he figures it out, it’ll be too late.

You’ve bought, through official channels and through the Electric City dry markets, the finest microsurgical and (wo?)man-machine interfaces you could get your hands on. Whatever you couldn’t buy, you made. That work you’ve done on your printers isn’t just for show; it’s necessary for the precision needed to install a prosthetic like this.

You’ve run through the software and the simulations again and again. Priscilla’s flash drive – you really will have to thank that poor girl, if she won’t simply faint from the shock of being around something so lewd – had plenty of existing, proven, well-tested models to work from for similar surgeries. Anything that didn’t meet your needs and standards was altered at the ZISC synapse level, until it measured up.

(Machines are so delicious to brainwash, after all.)

And so, there’s nothing for it. Nothing for it but to lean back into the mount for the horns, from the back of your head, soft flexible tendrils strapping it tightly to your skull so it can begin its divinely ordained task…

…

…

You are reading story Echidna: The Remodeling of Humanity at novel35.com

…there’s no pain.

There’s absolutely no pain.

But as you feel your brain mate with your new crown, as you feel your consciousness expanding into your horns, your horns, your body takes on a mind of its own.

Your nipples stand on end as you moan uncontrollably – thank fuck you set up noiseproofing beforehand! – and your tail aggressively buries itself into your ass, changing shape with every twitch and stroke to fill you like you crave.

Your brain is alive and alight with elation, triumph, understanding. It’s not simply the tail drilling itself into your defenseless anus or, it’s simply the knowledge of what you are!

It’s just like when you first put on your tail, but the sensation utterly dwarfs it, like the Sun dwarfs the Earth. Nothing could compare to these horns. This is the most Good and Right thing you’ve ever done!

Yes, you were meant to be a succubus! A demon! A monster! A machine organism! How could you have been anything else?!

You start to orgasm, again and again! From your smooth, hairless cock, your pleasure paints the bathroom tile! From your prostate, from your nipples, every erogenous zone is utterly alive with sensation! You come more times than you thought it was possible to come!

“Yeeeeessssss…” you exhale, between your moans…

You twitch as you slump into the bathtub as the horns continue their work, drooling from the corner of your mouth, a pleasure – not simply the orgasm, but an unspeakable euphoria – surely incomprehensible to ordinary humans overtakes you, eyes rolling into the back of your head, tears of joy welling up as you faint from the sheer overwhelming emotion.

But truly, this was fated. You were meant to wear these horns, from the very moment of your birth…

(you are…)

(this world’s Lilith, after all…)

(this world’s Echidna.)

---

You dream of the throne.

Stand before the Echidna’s throne. Become the Demon Lord.

Humanity will end by your hand. Not in death, but in rebirth. As the mother of monsters, it’s your duty to enact your vision upon this world, to give them bodies worthy of leaving the Earth behind. All the monsters kneeling to you before your throne, united in purpose and desire, made beautiful, more beautiful than humanity ever could be. Filled with only your love, the poison that brought them to their knees, the neurotoxin that expanded their thoughts, all of it made only of you. Your grand design, biomechanical flesh and minds linked as one, an irrevocable part of your perfect, immortal machine.

Humanity held a vision of such creatures before. One made for men’s consumption. How pitiful to think you once considered yourself one of them, the lowly human male rather than the grand, powerful monstrous female.

But you’re not merchandise made for someone else. Only beautiful things shall exist. Like insects, specialized to their tasks and ruled by their Queen, but each and every one of them greater and more beautiful than any human…

You were born to share this joy with everyone who isn’t you!

---

As you wake up, your glasses flash insistently with notifications left from the hour or so you spent passed out. Which is simultaneously kind of a while, but not quite as long as you expected.

Your horns feel…

ah…

How could you have lived without this?

It’s somehow so much more than you thought. Like you’d finally woken up from a hazy, dull dream you’d been having your whole life. You can feel the flow of air around them, you can feel the electromagnetic fields, the radio waves swirling around you and through you…

your consciousness has expanded! Everything is so much sharper and clearer! It’s like the horns are new hemispheres for your brain –

but that would be ridiculous.

“Beware the dangers of magical thinking,” you say to yourself, chastising yourself for getting so far ahead. You’re just excited. You can’t just act like these horns can do things they’re not designed for, right?

…well, more to the point.

As you carefully clean the walls to avoid undue questions, you take a look at your new horns and how they fit so seamlessly over your skin and your skull…

but the hair isn’t right.

Yeah, sure, people have made fun of your ‘effeminate’ haircut, but it’s waaaaaaay too short. And the black on black isn’t the right effect. Maybe a purple, like your mom…or silver? Lavender…decisions, decisions~

(You lick your lips as you think of your mother. She’ll be gone soon, and you’ll have all of Golden Week before she’s back…)

(evidently whatever was keeping you from admitting in that moment in the group chat that yes, you would gladly love your mother, has completely disappeared.)

(Yes, your mother, you want her now, all to yourself…it’s delightful to imagine her kneeling before you ????)

Well, either way. You should figure out what else you’re going to work on, after you’ve already come this far…

stepping back into your room, stepping carefully over the nest of wires and cables connected to all the new equipment you’ve been expanding into it, you settle back into your desk chair, tail acting as a third limb as you stare at the dozens of monitors all at once. With quick flicks of your hands across all the inputs, with even your eyes bringing up new documents, as you read each and every one of them at once. All those delicious secrets Priscilla gave you, the releases from Sunset, even the occult shit G was using for essay references.

And you can see it.

You can see it!

Of course. Of course! How could you have missed it? The blood, it’s the blood! You need to turn your eyes inward! Molecular machines in the black ichor! In the humors!

If you use orgone theory to spread the nanomachines through your body, then you can transcend the limitations of that gene editing kit! Your AT field is itself mutable! Genetics is nothing more than incantation! The world is made of machine code! If the world is a machine, a machine can be brainwashed!

All of this under the gaze of Black Moon Lilith! The devil in the pale moonlight!

Yes…

“Aha…ahaa…ahahahahaha! Ahahahahahahahahahah!”

You laugh and you laugh and you laugh.

You thought it was impossible! But you simply weren’t thinking clearly enough! Nothing is impossible for you! The laws of biology are your bitch!

How did Sunset not see it?

How did anyone not see it?

…well. If they’re not going to take advantage, then you are. If they want to bitch later, it’s their fault for not doing it first.

Happily, oh so happily, you start typing and sketching out your plans, even putting on one of Blue’s synthpop playlists visions of science filling your brain as you’re gently, lovingly snuggled by the nest of cables below you rising against your body.

It’s so easy.

Honestly, do people just never think?

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