Chapter 30 Brynn

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The winox descended through the Orange Tundra's crystalline landscape like a predator stalking prey, its sleek form cutting silently between towering formations that jutted from the frozen ground like ancient spears.

Twin moons hung in the amber sky, casting everything in ethereal light that made the crystal clusters glow with inner fire.

From my position pressed against the viewing port, I could see the massive formations scattered across the tundra, some reaching hundreds of feet into the air, others sprawled in complex networks that stretched to the horizon.

The crystals pulsed with bioluminescent energy, creating patterns of blue and violet that danced across the snow-covered wasteland.

"White Tribe mining operations," Nim explained quietly, following my gaze. "They carved out the underground network we're heading for. Those surface crystals are just the tip of what lies beneath."

The winox banked sharply, heading for what looked like empty tundra until I spotted the carefully concealed entrance, a crack in the volcanic stone hidden between two smaller crystal formations.

Our pilot, one of CG's contacts, brought us down with practiced ease that spoke of many illegal runs through this territory.

"From here, we go on foot," Sim said as the engines powered down. "And we stay incognito. The underground market has its own rules."

Before we exit ,I pulled my hood up, hiding the distinctive lack of any small fur on my face and trying to mask the scent that marked me as pregnant.

I took a slight offense when Nif declared I 'smell'.

But as we approached the entrance crack, my enhanced pregnancy senses picked up something that made my stomach clench.

The stench hit me before we even reached what they said was the market proper.

Ironically, this reminded me of some places back home.

It smelled of desperation given chemical form, mixed with infection, artificial hormones, and something that made my enhanced senses recoil.

My pregnancy had sharpened everything, turning my nose into a liability.

"Breathe through your mouth," Nim advised quietly, his hand steady on my lower back as we descended through the crack in volcanic stone.

But I couldn't. I clutched my laser pen tightly inside one of the many pockets of this hooded robe. Sim raised an arm around my shoulders, trying to look casual. I immediately sniffed his arm for that familiar smell of warmth and protection.

The entrance widened into carved passages that still bore the elegant spirals of White Tribe architecture, now defaced with crude markings in a dozen tribal dialects that my translator was able to interpret.

Fertile alien females seeks strong genetics.

Modification services - quick recovery.

Hope sold here.

The last one moved me. Surrounded by my mates, I have forgotten many Manasties die without having any offspring. Finding your mated mate was crucial for the Council to allow anyone to have a female egg to fertilize. The reason why gangs fought with their Council and the Tribes' Alphas.

"This place exists because we failed them," Sim said grimly, reading the graffiti. "Every tribal leader who hoarded genetic research, every Elder who suppressed breeding knowledge. This is what our 'official channels' created."

The main cavern opened before us like the mouth of some prehistoric beast. Bioluminescent fungi provided patches of sickly light, but most illumination came from stolen White Tribe crystals that had been deliberately cracked to leak their energy.

The perverted use of healing technology made my skin crawl.

Tunnels branched off in multiple directions. Some leading to deeper markets, others to illegal medical facilities, and one massive passage that echoed with distant roars and cheering crowds. A crude sign carved into the stone marked it as the path to "The Pit."

"Kilo's fighting arena," Sim noted grimly, following my gaze toward the ominous tunnel. "Where they'll force Zirc to fight for entertainment."

The knowledge that somewhere in this underground labyrinth, Zirc was being prepared for spectacle made my protective instincts flare. But first, we had to navigate this underground market that reminded me of Earth.

Until I saw them.

The first merchant looked up from a stall of dubious medical supplies, and the wrongness hit me like a physical blow.

Manasties. They have female proportions.

Surgical scars traced along the jawline where bone had been shaved, and when they spoke, their voice cracked mid-sentence from hormone treatments.

"Welcome!" The voice pitched artificially high, breaking with desperate enthusiasm. "I have fertility enhancers, womb strengtheners, anything for the precious carrier!"

Their breasts were clearly surgical constructs, asymmetrical and obviously foreign to their frame.

But it was their eyes that made my stomach clench.

The desperate hope of someone who'd carved away pieces of themselves chasing an impossible dream.

To become females that would continue their bloodline.

It looked as if they were tortured and lived to tell the tale.

I felt like crying, pregnancy hormones responding to their plight.

"Keep moving," Nim commanded, sensing my internal conflict. His nostrils flared and shot me and Sim a worried look. I have no idea where the others were because Nim and Sim were glued to my hip and I couldn't see anyone beyond five feet from me.

But the market had caught my scent. Damn it, I should have literally bathed myself in Nim and Sim's seeds if I knew this would happen.

All manasties have beasts inside them that heighten their senses.

And we were in an underground market that literally sells illegal fertility drugs.

They would know what a pregnant female would smell like.

Heads turned throughout the cavern, nostrils flaring as they detected my pheromone. Goosebumps erupted on my arms.

"A Goddess walks among us," someone whispered.

"Please, just let me touch—"

"One blessing, sacred mother, just one—"

They pressed closer, and I saw the full horror of what tribal neglect had wrought.

Modified males clustered around damaged crystal formations, their surgically altered bodies gleaming with sweat and artificial smelling hormones.

Some had breasts that wept constantly, staining their clothing with fluids that would never nourish young.

Others had been so extensively modified that their original gender was unrecognizable, leaving them trapped in bodies that satisfied no one.

The stench of infected surgical sites mixed with artificial pheromones made me gag.

"Hurry," someone spoke beside Sim as we navigated deeper. "We were able to divert them."

I understood now why CG's crew had looked at me with such reverence. In this economy, I wasn't just valuable. I was a living proof that the impossible could be achieved. Not something they read on a journal or text.

A commotion near the market's heart drew our attention. A crowd had gathered around something, their voices raised in what sounded like bidding. As we approached, I caught sight of the source of their excitement.

A female Neko, visibly pregnant, surrounded by five devoted males who moved like a coordinated unit.

Two Manasties, a Neko male, and two others I couldn't immediately identify, all focused entirely on their shared mate.

They fed her, groomed her, negotiated on her behalf with the reverence of priests tending their goddess.

"A polyamorous pod," Sim observed. "The apex of the underground hierarchy."

"Isn't it unsafe for her to be here?"I was curious why she would do this. Unless she also has someone she needed to rescue from Kilo's gang?

Nim snorted, but it was Sim who answered. "Clearly, Coone had been neglectful of his duties to orient you about their culture. Pregnant female Nekos craves violence."

It took me a moment to realize what he meant.

Oh.

No wonder Coone always made me mad lately. He probably thought making me mad was good for the babies. Ugh.

I watched their fluid coordination with something that felt uncomfortably like jealousy.

Not because I wanted what they had. Hello, I already possessed something similar.

But because their dynamic was on display, worshipped, celebrated by this desperate crowd while mine had to be hidden from tribal authorities.

"She's free here," I murmured, understanding flooding through me. "They can love her openly without political complications."

"Soon, you will be too," Nim vowed.

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