Amy's arms burned with exertion as she dragged himself onto the shore, his fingers digging into wet sand. The ocean waves lapped at his legs, salty and relentless, as he heaved himself forward, his breathing slow and controlled. His muscles should have been screaming in agony, but they weren't. He had already altered that—cut out the pain receptors, rewired the way his muscles processed fatigue. He had been swimming for nearly five hours, but his body was still fresh, his heart steady, his breath calm as ever. He had used the dissolved oxygen to breathe like a fish. It still felt odd, thinking and using her powers like that.
But. IT FELT GOOD!
She laid on her back for a moment, staring at the sky. The sun burned high overhead, beating down on his skin. It felt good. Real. The warmth, the air, the solid ground beneath him—after hours in the water, it felt real.
A soft exhale left his lips, and a smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth. Well, that was fucking terrifying.
The ocean was not like Earth's oceans. Not even close. The things he had seen…
Amy had thought she knew what biological monstrosities looked like. She had treated Case 53s, creatures warped by powers beyond human comprehension. She had seen flesh that defied nature, mutations so grotesque they belonged in nightmares. Though, they were the only ones which excited her then. She had been so used to the biology of normal man and capes that any other person felt boring. The whole thing of her healing other people was a continuous boring task, one that she could never escape from. There was nothing new to learn or do. Not until there were Case 53s who helped her to entertain her. In a way, they had been exciting. As they were something out of the norm.
And yet, the things in this ocean? They were alive. They weren't mistakes. They weren't failures of a mad tinker's experiment. They were natural here.
Fish the size of blue whales, with eyes that glowed like lanterns in the deep.
A lion-fish hybrid the size of a goddamn skyscraper, its golden mane flowing like seaweed in the currents, its body a mass of shimmering scales and razor-like fins. It had roared underwater, sending out a shockwave that nearly tore Amy's eardrums apart. But the moment he touched it? It had gone limp, sinking into the depths like a forgotten god.
The bear-eel had been worse. Massive. Furry. With teeth that jutted out of its elongated, eel-like mouth. It had lunged at him from the deep, moving far too fast for something its size. Amy had barely managed to twist his body mid-swim, avoiding those jagged fangs. He had reached out on instinct, pressing a palm against its slimy fur—and holy shit.
Its biology had sung to him.
Fertile. Adaptable. A genetic structure that shouldn't exist. And yet, it did. It thrived.
The third creature, a frog-fish hybrid, had been slower. But its mouth had been a gaping abyss, easily large enough to swallow a ship whole. Amy had reached for it, feeling its biology the moment his fingers brushed against its slimy hide.
They can reproduce. Wasn't that exciting and dangerous at the same time?
That was the part that unsettled him the most. None of this should have been possible. Earth's science had struggled for decades to make viable hybrid species without outside powers, and even then, they were usually sterile. These things? They could fucking breed.
She had swum through an ecosystem that shouldn't exist.
A cold knot of dread settled in her gut. Am I in a biotinker's domain? The thought made her skin crawl. If some lunatic tinker had created an entire biosphere like this, she didn't want to stick around long enough to meet them.
But she hadn't had a choice.
It was either keep swimming or die in open water.
Now, at least, she was on solid ground.
Amy pushed himself up, his webbed fingers flexing before she willed the webbing away. His gills sealed shut as his body reverted, shifting back into the man's form he had taken before. He wasn't going to risk walking around as a woman. He had seen what men did to women in desperate situations.
And this?
This entire world reeked of desperation.
Amy rolled his shoulders, feeling the solid weight of his muscles settle into place. Being in this body felt wrong in some ways, but he couldn't deny the advantages. He was stronger. Broader. More intimidating. His chest didn't feel vulnerable the way it did in his normal form.
It was a mask. A tool.
And Amy had always been good at using tools.
She took a deep breath and finally looked around.
The island was… different from the last one. Less ruined. More alive. The trees here were thick and vibrant, their trunks twisted in strange, unfamiliar patterns. Birds—normal-looking birds, flitted between the branches.
The air smelled rich. Earthy.
Amy ran a hand through her short, damp hair, taking it all in.
She was alive.
She exhaled slowly, then cracked her neck. Time to figure out what the fuck is going on.
As she started walking, her mind wandered. Her thoughts drifted back to Brockton Bay, to the people she left behind and was seperated from.
To Victoria.
Her jaw clenched.
Vicky.
The one thing she could never fix. The one person who had always been just out of reach.
She had been her light. Her anchor. And she had ripped herself away from him like she was nothing. Whatever that bitch Bakuda did to her, Amy was going to make her pay. That bitch's bomb had sent her somewhere odd and weird. She wasn't used to being away from Vicky this long.
Amy had done everything for her. Had given up everything for her. And it still hadn't been enough. She had been always afraid to mention her love for her. Vicky was too Vicky to notice. Too busy with Gallant to be with her.
Vicky would never like her romantically. It was something Amy knew. Neither would Carol or Mark allow it. Amy was like sister to her. Vicky wasn't someone with incestous complex like her.
But now?
Amy paused mid-step, her fingers twitched with anticipation.
What if Amy wasn't Amy anymore? What if she never returned back to the world as Amy Dallon? What if Amy Dallon was dead to the eyes of the world?
The idea had hit him while he was swimming. It had taken root in his mind like a parasite, growing with every kick of his legs, every brush of something monstrous in the deep.
Amy Dallon could be gone.
But what if someone else took her place?
A charming young man. Someone new. Someone who could enter Victoria's life when she was at her lowest, grieving for her sister. Who could be what she needed.
A protector. A lover. A perfect partner. Unlike Gallant. A boy who deserved nothing from Vicky.
Now, she could make it happen. She could manipulate her new body to be ideal partner with Vicky. She could grow a cock of around 8 inches, something which would be enough to fill Vicky's whole vagina as a whole. They would be perfect, Amy realised suddenly.
Gallant was hardly 5.5 inches. She knew about it because she had healed him. Her powers already gave her a 3d image of his body. He could never make Vicky feel good. She could already mentally picture herself making love with Vicky. Make her moan as his cock filled her upto the brim of her cervix while kissing her lovingly. That would be so hot and erotic.
Her body shuddered with goosebumps as she pictured Vicky beneath her, writing as Amy moved in and out of the beautiful blonde. Her breasts jiggling with each of Amy's thrust. Amy could picture all of it vividly.
She could give Victoria a child. A perfect baby boy, crafted with love, carrying Vicky's beauty and strength. It wouldn't be hard to do so. She could even alter her chromosomes to make a perfect baby with Vicky. Heck, she could even make their baby any gender as they liked. She just would have to make her chromosomes the X or Y type in her sperm, which was so easy to do.
Her breath hitched.
She could make it real.
Amy let out a low chuckle.
It was insane.
It was fucking insane.
But for the first time in a long, long while.... Amy felt happy.
Her newfound powers were really a blessing. She could actually work on so many things. Previously she could change everybody around her, but she could never change herself. It was something which had always bothered her. But now, she could make that happen too. It was like a dream come true.
How long she had wished to be able to use her powers on herself? Now, it was finally here, and she was going to make full use of it.
Amy slowly trudged forward to the inwards of the island, the damp ground soft beneath her bare feet. Her body still felt strange, the changes she had made pressing at the edges of her mind, but she ignored it. There were more important things to focus on.
People.
She could spot them from a distance—figures moving between the houses and roads, their shapes unmistakably human. Relief had flooded her at first, the kind of relief that came with the possibility of civilization, food, and most importantly, information.
But now that he was closer, she wasn't so sure.
These people were… odd.
Amy had seen tall people before. But these people weren't just tall—they were ridiculously proportioned. Some stood well over seven feet, their bodies packed with exaggerated muscles that made them look like something out of a comic book. Others were built thin and lanky, but their limbs stretched unnaturally, like their bones had been pulled longer than they should be. Their faces were expressive in a way that felt wrong, their emotions exaggerated, their movements theatrical.
And the language…
Amy's brows furrowed as she listened to the chatter around him. It sounded like Japanese, but it wasn't quite right. She had been to Japan before, had heard the language spoken fluently, had even picked up a few words during her visit. But this? This was off.
Some words were familiar, but the structure was strange. The accents were all over the place, fluctuating wildly from one speaker to another. It was like listening to a warped version of a language she only half understood.
Her stomach twisted. Where the fuck am I?
Before she could think too deeply about it, one of the men started walking toward him.
Amy tensed, his body still primed for danger after the ocean ordeal. He forced himself to relax, keeping his posture neutral as the man approached.
The guy was huge. Easily seven feet tall, with a thick, muscular build. He wore simple, tattered clothes—loose brown pants and a sash around his waist, but no shirt. His chest was broad, his arms as thick as tree trunks, and in his right hand, he held a long wooden staff.
He stopped a few feet away, eyeing Amy warily. His face was weathered, his dark eyes sharp with suspicion as he gazed on her.
Then, he spoke gruffly.
"Ano… anata wa dare da?"
Amy blinked. Her mind scrambled for meaning, but the words barely registered.
Fuck.
The man frowned when Amy didn't answer. He adjusted his grip on the staff, his stance shifting slightly—more guarded. His eyes flicked up and down, taking in Amy's appearance, his worn makeshift pants of bark, his lack of a shirt. The tension in the air thickened.
Amy swallowed. She needed to say something. Do something to avoid the fight.
He raised a hand to his chest, tapping his fingers against his sternum.
"Amy," he said, then quickly realized his mistake. He was still in a male form. He needed a name that fit. "Uh… Aiden."
The man's brows furrowed deeper. He tilted his head, muttering something under his breath to one of the other villagers nearby.
Amy exhaled through his nose. This wasn't working. The language barrier was too thick.
Think, think.
He needed a way to communicate. Something simple.
He pointed at the ground, then at himself. Then, with exaggerated movements, he mimicked walking in place, waving a hand in front of his face as if searching for something.
Then, he shrugged, raising his hands in a universal "I don't know" gesture.
The man watched him for a long moment, then exchanged another glance with his companion.
They muttered something between themselves before the man with the staff finally sighed.
He gestured for Amy to follow.
Amy hesitated, then nodded. He didn't have many options right now.
As they moved deeper into the village, he took in more details. The buildings were made of mud and stone, their designs simple but sturdy. Some of them had damage—cracks in the walls, missing chunks of roofing. It looked like this place had seen trouble recently.
People watched him from the sidelines, their expressions a mix of curiosity and caution. Some whispered to each other, others simply stared.
Amy kept his posture relaxed but alert. He was out of his depth, and he hated it.
His mind itched with the urge to reach out, to understand these people on a biological level. He could do it. A simple touch, a brush of skin against skin, and he'd know everything about them.
But she shoved the thought down. That wasn't an option.
Not yet.
The man led him toward a larger building at the center of the village. It was slightly taller than the rest, its wooden beams reinforced with thick rope. A few guards—more of the ridiculously large men—stood near the entrance, their weapons crude but intimidating.
Amy took a slow breath.
Play along. Get information. Figure out what the fuck is going on.
The doors swung open, revealing a dimly lit interior.
Amy stepped inside, ignoring the prickle of unease crawling up his spine.
She was really in an odd place.