Super Goddess OmniCollab: Irina

A collaborative effort by delta7447 and Ultra Bra. Thanks to CrypticCollaborator and OmniScribbler for beta reading.

This is part of a larger collaboration with Akane, Cones, an anonymous individual, and, as specified above, Ultra Bra and myself.  I definitely recommend giving it a read, both because there's great Super Goddess stuff throughout and because this begins right where the prologue ends.  Each section takes place basically simultaneously, with the ending leading into the epilogue.

Really, I'm posting this here so everything I've written is available in one place.  Unless you just want to read this part of the story, I'd recommend reading the whole thing instead.

Speaking of external links to larger works, the hub for the series might interest you.


All persons depicted and mentioned are fictitious, owned by Akane, and above the age of 18.

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“Before that,” Irina interjected, “I have a question.”

Sofia groaned, obviously annoyed. “Yeah, I knew this was gonna happen. Alright Blondie, spit it out.”

“Why do we have to enter one at a time? What happens if, for instance, two of us enter simultaneously?”

A chuckle emerged from deep within Sofia’s throat. “Ohhhhh, trust me, you don’t want to do that.”

“Why not?”

Now suddenly at Irina’s side, Sofia leaned in close to whisper in her ear. “Don’t tell it I said this, but The Factory ain’t exactly the sharpest tool in the shed. It can have trouble distinguishing two people apart. You and your witless pal might end up somewhere unexpected, trapped in The Backrooms, or even teleported to an inescapable hellscape beyond even your understanding! I mean, is it really worth risking your life - not to mention those of the disappeared humans?”

Irina shrugged. “Maybe. Depends on whether or not you’re hiding something.”

“Listen here Anastasia, allow me to rephrase. This is a singleplayer game. You go in on your own. Whether you come out on your own - or at all, for that matter - is entirely up to you. Of course, you can’t come out if you don’t go in. Hint hint.”

“Fine,” Irina replied. “You can’t fault a scientist for being curious.”

“I can if she’s being a stubborn bitch.”

“Fair enough.”

Irina stepped through the doors to The Factory. In that moment, she felt a slight discontinuity. Instead of entering a room, Irina was seated in some kind of a barber’s chair, which seemed to be built out of scrap metal and obsolete steampunk medical equipment. The room around her was bleak, damp and filthy: it looked like a long-abandoned prison shower room. She was bound to the chair using her own threads of life. These mythical, abstract artifacts are conceptually bound to one’s life - breaking them would kill the individual they were bound to. Irina being an immortal and unkillable Super Goddess, her threads were also indestructible. Despite all that, her will trumped all, as she freed herself effortlessly simply by standing up - the threads fell apart like spider webs.

As she did, a ceiling-mounted analog TV switched on, displaying a ventriloquist puppet with decidedly Sofia-like features. From an adjacent speaker, Sofia spoke using a badly feigned fry register:

“Welcome, Esteemed Woman of Science, to- Hey, put those back! In this house we play by the rules.”

“Ugh.”

Irina humored her annoying peer and rewound time by a few seconds, re-restraining herself. Sofia continued, but her voice cracked back into her natural squealy one.

“Looks like somebody needs a lesson in showmanship.”

Her puppet-self glanced down to a stack of papers on the table before her.

“One second, let me start over.”

The TV screen blacked out. One second later - accurate to the picosecond by Irina’s count - it restarted. Sofia continued in her terrible fry register, which sounded like an attempt to impersonate some kind of black-clad vigilante with a peculiar animal motif.

“Welcome, Esteemed Woman of Science, to THE FACTORY.”

“Is this your idea of showmanship?”

“SSSSSHUSH YOU! Gawd, can’t you be chill for like one minut- you know what, heck this. Let’s just start... the game!”

A harsh buzzing sound denoted a button being pressed on her end. All around the chairbound Super Goddess, the room’s walls began to slowly rise, shedding layers of dust upon the tiled floor. In addition to the mechanical whirring, the room was soon flooded with a much more human-like sound, which drowned out any clanking of gears or whizzing of pistons.

With all the walls removed, Irina found herself at the center of a large warehouse. The source of the deafening sound revealed itself. All around her were futanari, sporting erections ranging in size anywhere from fire posts to shipping containers. All were constrained by constantly vibrating onaholes and moaning in a chorus of maddening pent-up ecstasy. Their cocks, seemingly on the verge of cumming at any second, all pointed towards dimensional rifts floating in mid-air.

Irina’s restraints were released. She stepped out of the chair, electing to levitate in place instead of defiling the soles of her high heels with such unsanitary surfaces, and surveyed the large room with all the curiosity and suspicion of an apt rationalist.

“Take a gander, Surly McGothface! One hundred - yes, count ‘em - one hundred hyper futas, pent-up and jacked off thrice to the edge and twice back! Pretty soon, they’ll all be released simultaneously, shooting their loads through those portals into Earth! These aren’t any comical mortal spunkloads either, oh no. The smallest of them could drown out the oceans, and the median-tiers can prolly blow a hole all the way through!”

Irina raised a single eyebrow and placed a hand on her hip.

“‘Ooouh, what’s little ol’ me to do,’ you’re probably wondering already. ‘I’m no people person, I can hardly hold hands, bwah bwah, boo hoo, woe is me.’ You’ve got one shot to prevent the Earth becoming an ice cream scoop for a wandering cosmic giantess, and that means grabbing these bulls by their horns and sucking up their cum!”

Irina rolled her eyes, her expression unchanging. The televised doll-Sofia lifted up a large stopwatch, the arms of which spun around comically fast in opposing directions.

“Tick tock, what’s it gonna be? Will our meek science lady concede to the lewd, ohoho? You’ve only got a minute left, I’d b- oh.”

Sofia now saw that Irina had duplicated herself a hundredfold, placed her lips around each individual hyper futa's cock, and was in the process of inducing stimulation-based ejaculation on them all. Her targets were all entranced in far too much bliss to care about impending planetary destruction, which, thanks to her efforts, did not occur.

Without any sort of resistance or sign of displeasure, she gulped down a galactic amount of cum in a few moments - a little sloppily due to the sheer volume of it all. The moans of pleasure soon turned to a chorus of contentment and gratitude toward this apparent angel.

Coalescing back into a single being, Irina wiped a few stray blobs of white goo from her face and turned to the monitor.

“Was that good enough?”

The jaw of Sofia’s doll-sona dropped, quite literally tumbling onto the floor. She hastily bent down to retrieve it and reintroduced it into her wooden head with a click.

Not bothering with changing her voice anymore, she blubbered out, “WHAT. Hel-lo, Earth to Isabelle, this was supposed to be a challenge. You’re repressed like a Puritan - what’s the deal?”

“Shows how up to speed you are on current events. I’ve had a healthy sexual appetite for almost 90 years now.”

Doll-Sofia’s eye twitched a few times. Irina pursed her lips momentarily and quipped, “So are we going to have an actual challenge next?”

Her visage quickly turning to pure seething rage, Sofia’s face began to lose its artificial appearance, and soon fleshed out into her regular self. She looked ready to explode, but caught herself and stepped offscreen. Irina could hear speaking, but it was too muffled for even her to make out.

Conferring with her Factory, maybe? Irina wondered.

Sofia reappeared onscreen a few moments later. She leaned forward, right out of the TV screen, with a face so red you’d think she was trying to grow horns.

“Oh, I’ll give you a challenge alright....”

The horror film set transmogrified into what appeared to be the start of a maze. The walls stretched up into infinity, and a polished reflective floor produced the illusion of the same effect also happening below. Sofia materialized next to Irina.

“Give this a try,” she said with a smirk.

Irina was about to head off at 6000 c when Sofia stopped her.

“Ah-ah-ah! I should clarify, there are rules here too. You need to solve this maze at walking speed - 5 km/h, no more.”

Irina shrugged and started walking, adjusting her gait to precisely 5 km/h.

She had actually never been inside a maze like this before, but that didn’t hinder her ability to efficiently solve it. The maze was unsurprisingly large, rivaling her home city in area. Despite that, the path to the end was relatively short, taking her only 36 minutes to reach.

“That wasn’t too bad,” Irina said. “What’s ne-?”

She was cut off by an identical maze appearing in front of her.

“Ah, sorry,” Sofia said, “I wasn’t looking. Could you do it again?”

“Fine.”

Irina retraced her steps and optimized her route, shaving off four minutes from her time.

“Well done, Sasha! For your valiant efforts against those vile labyrinthian corridors, you win... another maze!”

The upbeat theme song to a game show nearly two centuries old played through unseen loudspeakers, along with canned applause and a shower of confetti raining down from nowhere. As Irina proceeded through this maze, she picked bits of the stuff out of her hair.

This time, Sofia was at the end, in a midriff-baring crop top with a skirt too short to be considered decent. She shook a pair of pom-poms while cheering, “One more time! One more time! An-ni-ka!”

Irina didn’t break her stride as another maze materialized before her.

Once at the end, Irina spoke up before Sofia could.

“Again?”

“If you would be so kind.”

One maze later...

“And now, Kathleen... one more time!”

“I’m beginning to think your challenges are getting derivative.”

“Hmph!”

As Irina headed through this next maze, she started thinking of a way to expedite this tedious process. She decided to make a supertask of herself. With the 5 km/h rule, she couldn’t move twice as fast at each halfway point, so she instead created another iteration of herself halfway between her current position and the start of the maze. She repeated the procedure again and again as she continued walking, filling the maze's optimal route with a line of Russian beauties. In practically no time, an infinite number of Irinas were in front of her, already solving the infinitely subsequent mazes.

Sofia eventually appeared in the middle of the endless line of Irinas, stopping the queue.

“Alright, goth bimbo, I’ve seen enough.”

The infinite duplicates of Irina coalesced into one. “Are we done here, then?”

“Ha! Hardly. I’m done testing you. Now I’m going to challenge you.”

“Isn’t that what you said last time? The mazes weren’t really a challenge, just time-consuming.”

“Shut it.”

The mazes transformed into a remarkably mundane locale: a fast food restaurant. Sofia’s voice emanated from a mic placed in the mouth of a plastic clown statue.

“Feeling a bit peckish?”

“Not really,” Irina replied.

“I can imagine! You’ve gone who knows how long without food! Now that you’re here, you should order something before you keel over!”

“What, you just want me to order a meal for myself? That’s not a challenge.”

“Good luck!” Sofia remarked, before the clown statue went silent with a short static buzz. Irina rolled her eyes and stepped in line.

A short wait later, the person in front of her finished his order and stepped aside... only for a duplicate of him to appear before Irina could step forward.

Oh, ha ha ha. Downright hilarious. Sofia, you clown.

Irina elected to simply wait, only to find the same thing happened again.

“Oh, now isn’t that annoying, now isn’t it?” Sofia said, her god-awful plastic clown voice now suddenly breathing down Irina’s neck.

“Yes, you are.”

“You know, I bet that if you can convince the person ahead of you to let you order first, you might be able to place your order.”

“Again, that doesn’t sound hard.”

Sofia simply giggled and disappeared again.

Irina cleared her throat and tapped the man on the shoulder. He turned around.

“Would you mind letting me order first?”

“Why?” he replied.

The odds of him not simply obeying her were staggeringly low enough that she didn’t have a plan ready in case it happened. She thought for a couple yoctoseconds and came up with one.

“I’m Super Goddess Irina Volkoba, and you will earn my favor if you do as I say.”

He chortled at that. “You? A Super Goddess? Sure, and I’m the tsar of all the Russias. Just wait your turn like everyone else, lady.”

Irina tried again, utilizing her mind control powers. “I insist, let me order ahead of you.”

“Back off, lady! You’re not getting special privilege just because of your looks. Wait your turn or I’ll call the police, capisce?”

Irina relented and let him order. Another iteration of him appeared as he finished.

I’m not really surprised my mind control didn’t work on him. Every iteration of him is made and presumably controlled by a force somehow beyond even me. Besides, this is all a test of some sort, constructed by a mad hatter. Moreover, I can tell the new iteration of him doesn’t have the memories of his predecessor. This one won’t call the police on me if I so much as ask him for the time. I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s some penalty in store for me if I take too long or go through too many iterations of this guy. With that in mind, let’s think this through and get it right this time...

She contemplated how to proceed for entire microseconds, then teleported herself to just outside the entrance.

You seem hellbent on getting me to participate in your madness, Sofia. I hope you’re watching - this isn’t going to happen again.

She made herself into a starving malnourished mess of a woman in a dirty and tattered version of her usual outfit, complete with a sob story if anyone pressed her. She scrambled through the door.

“Please, mister, let me order ahead of you. I haven’t eaten in days, and if I don’t eat something now, I’ll pass out and he’ll find me! I can’t go back to him!”

The guy was thoroughly stunned. “Wow. I, uh... Y-yeah, go ahead.”

“Thank you. Thank you! You just saved my life!”

She turned to the equally stunned cashier. “Please just give me anything you can. I don’t care what.”

The cashier grabbed a to-go bag and stuffed it with a fistful of ketchup packets, a haphazardly scooped cup of fries, and four frozen breakfast burritos straight out of the freezer.

Irina accepted the bag and handed the cashier five worn 5,000₽ bills.

“Keep the change. Thank you so much!”

She bolted out the way she came in.

Irina felt like a scoundrel for so shamelessly flummoxing somebody, never mind that the person in question was a simulated construct whose sole purpose was to literally stand in her way. Almost as an insult to her empathetic attachment, the restaurant with its two inhabitants ceased to exist. With them, everything else began to disintegrate: Irina could acutely feel the basic building blocks of matter make themselves scarce. Time slowed down and space folded itself into an infinitely tiny speck. In this reduced universe, the only thing left was Irina’s godly being.

And Sofia’s voice.

“Well done, squirt! That scrappy attire, that fakey fake teary face... roflol! Oh, if I didn’t know what a borax poindexter was behind it, I might even commend you for reals.”

“Are we done now?”

“Not quite, Lil’ Miss Impatient. I’m still not quite convinced that you’re fully attuned to the show-stopping powers of entertainment that I possess.”

“Humble to the last.”

“Cram it! There’s still one thing, one teensy tiny bit that I’m just aching to see. The Grand Finale. A little qualification challenge, shall we say?”

“What do you have in mind?”

“Oh, you’ll see.” Sofia disappeared with a Cheshire Cat grin on her face, leaving her adversary standing in the howling silence of nothingness.

Irina doubled over as a familiar yet unfamiliar sensation flooded her body. It reminded her of the times when she had separated from the fused beings she had created with other Super Goddesses. With the reins of the scintillatingly beautiful, all-powerful cosmic force which had permeated her reality taken away, she was a faulty, powerless ragdoll of a being. Such was the magnitude of her powers that she could still feel its radiance in a hollowed-out cocoon around herself. But this force she had no control of.

Then it happened again. And again, three times in total. Each time a gargantuan volume of power was stripped from her being. She felt like an innermost matryoshka doll, newly exposed to the cold and uncaring world.

Irina knew precisely what had happened. The ever-curious side of her had always been most fascinated with the prospect of the future; however, maintaining her unique personality required her to willfully deny herself omniscience in any capacity. So, to satiate her thirst for control in the face of an unpredictable universe, Irina adopted the habit of simulating every possible turn of events which could possibly follow, in real time.

“I’ve been reduced to a mortal.”

This was no unexpected turn of events. In fact it was quite an obvious outcome. Right now, Irina was only the sexiest woman to ever live, clad in clothes which would require the combined resources of over twenty thousand different planets if tailored by mortals.

And live she did. She took her first mortal breath in ages, feeling oxygen rushing into her lungs. It was precisely how her infinitely powerful brain simulated it to feel, but it left her slightly woozy all the same. Functioning with a mere 100 billion organic, living brain cells was hampering her thought, though it wasn’t enough to dissipate her perfectly precognitized contingencies to this situation.

Irina also knew precisely what The Factory wanted of her. She had to prove herself capable of jestery and tomfoolery, even with the extremely limited ‘resources’ of humanity.

To think that I, the Nobel laureate for Physics, Chemistry, Medicine, and Economics for twelve consecutive years, holder of a doctorate in every conceivable field of science, twenty-three of which were discovered and pioneered by myself, would have to resort to this. I wish this rabbit hole didn’t go this far....

She looked around herself in the blinding darkness, trying to make sure there were no witnesses. Then, without any expression of emotion except for maybe the slightest hint of dispiritation, she performed the thumb-in-half trick.

“Isn’t this what you wanted?” she rhetorically asked the vast, echoless darkness of The Factory surrounding her. “To see a dignified and accomplished scientist and goddess resort to half-amusing parlor tricks?”

Yes, this was precisely what it wanted. To her horror, Irina began hearing applause from behind her. Flustered, she turned around and saw that she was now standing on a stage, clad in an white tux which could barely contain her monstrous curves.

Oh fuck. People. So many of them, too.

Staring at her with those glassy eyes, which revealed nothing to Irina’s non-clairvoyant brain. As a result, she was frozen in... fear?

No other answer makes sense. So this is fear, huh? First time for everything. Such a remarkably complex emotion.... There are papers to be written on this feeling alone, but that’s something for later.

The previously simulated intricacies of it were already partially lost to her mortal brain. Mortal, but not powerless. She now had the approximate power set of a stage magician - one capable of performing actual magic. That was just what she was to do, for Sofia’s entertainment. Naturally, Irina had prepared a plan for this situation as well.

Sofia, being the madwoman she is, wouldn’t be content with seeing any singular act of proper stage magic. Instead, Irina surmised, she had to subvert the very idea of it, by drawing a clear distinction between the flashy and gaudy purpose of illusionism and the practicality of real magic.

Not bothering to introduce herself or to babble any kind of nonsense about ‘how great it is to be here tonight’ or ‘what a lovely audience we have’, Irina raised her hands without bravado and a sickening, unnatural voice rang out throughout the hall. The audience had seemingly turned into a pile of clothes. However, upon closer inspection, underneath every pile of finely ironed fabrics, a single white rabbit began to wriggle its way out.

The lesson was simple: real magic isn’t flashy.

Irina felt the beginning of a very familiar sensation. Her power was returning, slowly but surely.

“Oh wow,” Sofia uttered, with a voice literally dripping with sarcasm. “I think my expectations have been subverted! Excuse me, I need a minute to process this!”

Her regained powers were a relief, but nowhere near the ultipotence she was starting to crave. She was leagues beyond her prior state as a stage performer - now akin to an arch-witch, comparable in power to a demigoddess, possibly the most powerful human alive. Appropriately for her role, Irina found herself at the top of a dark tower, dressed in fine garbs and seated in a semicircle with herself at the center.

Judging from the context and that The Factory had likely took notice of her internal comparison to an arch-witch, Irina correctly deduced that she was now an arch-witch. The most talented and capable spellcaster in all the lands, with a keen awareness of the inner workings of magic, who headed the prestigious League of Wizards.

A curious point of dispute came to her attention - something that would certainly grant her access to the following power level, if The Factory itself wouldn’t grant it to her.

Irina perked up from her partially hunched posture, prompting the whole League of Wizards to turn their gazes towards her. Silently, she walked over to a chalkboard and touched it, causing swirls of colorful patterns and text erupting onto the board - runes, sigils, incantations, and blueprints.

“Esteemed fellow witches and wizards,” she started, “upon carefully reviewing the inner mechanics of our system of magic, I’ve come across... quite a shocking revelation.”

Irina produced an unassuming small metallic object from under her cloak.

“As you know, magic is produced by performing intricate incantations and gestures. However, in principle these ritualistic actions can be reduced to their most basic components and reproduced using electricity.”

A spark of lightning flew from Irina’s finger into an exposed metal outlet on the object.

“This machine I’m holding is an automatic spellcaster. It effectively converts electricity into pure magic.”

Several members of the League became restless, and began furiously deliberating.

“This experiment of yours is pure madness!” one riled up geezer cried out.

“Yes, it will bring ruin to the balance of the universe!” another added.

“You must dismantle this godforsaken artifact,” a third demanded. “Immediately!”

“I’m afraid it’s not that simple,” Irina answered. “This object converts magic from two temporal directions. Therefore, as this conversion progresses, its initial source of electricity becomes more and more saturated with magic.”

Irina bit her lip and shivered very subtly.

“To clarify... it constantly boosts my magical powers.”

Without warning, another, identical brick appeared in Irina’s hand. The slightest moan slipped from her otherwise cool and collected face.

“In addition...”

She began to pant and her face reddened. A third object appeared, followed almost instantly by a fourth, fifth, and a hundredth. The sheer intensity of the pleasure rendered Irina barely able to vocalize at all. The clankering roar of billions of magic conversion machines produced a din that she couldn’t project her voice loudly enough to penetrate.

Regardless, she managed to utter, “...It multiplies itself... exponentially.”

The following sequence of events happened essentially instantaneously. With Irina’s mind presently comparable to that of a gifted human, it wasn’t until she fully regained her powers that she was able to clearly recall everything that transpired.

Electricity in her own body was converted into increasingly potent magic, elevating her to godhood in a matter of femtoseconds. As her body reached its saturation point and all electricity in her body was converted, it began to leak out into the environment, retroactively transforming all electricity in the universe into pure magic. As the bricks functioned solely on electricity, they subsequently powered down and ceased to exist.

Since electricity always was magic, thunderstorms - now called magic storms - were generally accompanied by blasts of magic. These blasts cast random spells upon whatever they impacted. Their collective strikes were akin to the random firing of neurons during sleep, which the brain interprets as a dream. Like dreams, just about anything was possible from a magic storm: a smouldering crater, distortions in space and time, previously fictional creatures suddenly manifesting in reality, even sometimes nothing at all. The zap from static electricity produces a similar effect, albeit on a much smaller scale.

Speaking of the firing of neurons, the human brain’s bioelectricity became magic as well. With pure magical energy inextricably linked to humanity’s mind and consciousness, the species retroactively evolved into a race of gods. The ascension to divinity was downright orgasmic, initiating a species-wide orgy with no conceivable end in sight.

Irina was not exempt from this. She wouldn’t have it any other way! She remained the most powerful human, becoming top dog in a species-wide pantheon. Humanity as a whole pleasured her with their worship, sending her to heights of ecstasy beyond what any of them could ever hope to experience themselves.

She was in a heaven of her own making! One last act should elevate her back to the status of a Super Goddess... if she played her cards right. In the heat of the moment, that wasn’t foremost on her mind, however.

“The universe is mine to command, to control! With just a thought, I can redirect any and all cosmological forces to pleasure me! Actually, I think the four out there aren’t enough for me, don’t you? There needs to be a fifth, designed specifically to give me infinite pleasure! I want to experience an eternal orgasm unlike anything even I can comprehend!”

Irina’s powers weren’t quite to the same extent as she’d like, but workable. For the faintest moment, she considered the dumbest thing she could possibly do with all this power, and found the answer approaching her at an accelerating rate, outside of even her already-near-infinite control. On the precipice of her most convoluted fantasies coming to fruition, she realized just how nicely both her immediate goal of gratification overlapped with her ultimate goal of doing something reckless and irresponsible to prove herself.

A smirk formed on her lips as she recalled the Halloween following her 40th birthday: namely her first Super Orgasm and its unlimited destructive power when uncontained.

Irina, a grain of sand in the dust bowl of sex, was about to weather her first storm. She created a fifth cosmological force and directed it at herself at infinite intensity.

Her moans became screams became nothing. In a burst of glorious hedonistic euphoria, she extinguished it all. Her worshipping pantheon, humanity, Earth, the solar system, the galaxy, the universe, life, death, matter, energy, entropy... everything, herself included.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Sofia rematerialized in the void.

Her jaw had involuntarily and cartoonishly dropped once again, causing it to dangle at her feet. As a result, her voice was slurred as if she was constantly yawning.

“Whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa. Whoa. That was wild! Geez Ibiza, you weren’t messing with me about being a horndog. It’ll take me shit knows how many washings to get the concept of pleasure out of these clothes! ...Oh right, you sorta shot yourself in the cooch, didn’t you?”

“I’m still here.”

“What? Didn’t you go commit die, Helena?”

“Yes, but the sheer absurdity of choosing to wipe myself in a hyper-orgasmic flood restored the full extent of my powers. Super Goddesses are unbound from any and all natural laws, so if I wish to return from complete, utter, inescapable oblivion, then it happens. If you have any complaints, take it to The Factory. This is all thanks to it.”

A flash of silvery light produced a large empty warehouse for Irina to manifest in. Sofia, already standing there, was stunned.

Irina let out a satisfied sigh. “Feels good to be back....”

That was no exaggeration. Her time in Sofia’s absurd factory, culminating in her reduction to mortality and subsequent non-existence - even for a short time - was easily the worst experience of her life.

“Now then, I believe you’ll have company in a moment,” Irina announced out of nowhere.

“Wh-what?” She noticed her displaced jaw and kicked it back in place.

A man in a shirt and tie with a hard hat and clipboard materialized.

“Sofia, no last name?” he asked her.

“Yes?” she replied, thoroughly baffled. “H-hey Betty, what’s going on here?”

“What, don’t you recognize the trick you yourself innovated? You made a transcendent Factory, and I figured out how. So I made a transcendent building inspector to counter it.”

Unfazed, the new arrival continued, “Thank you for talking about me like I’m not here. I’m a building inspector with EU-OSHA. I regret to inform you that your The Factory building violates...” he paused for a moment to read off his clipboard. “...literally every safety standard in the book. So we’re having it condemned. Starti-”

He was interrupted by a sudden blast of noise, like an explosion and debris raining down onto the floor. Once the smoke cleared, a large hole in the wall was visible. Beyond it was a wrecking ball.

The inspector looked at his watch. “Huh. My watch is slow - my bad. As I was saying, starting now. Well, it should’ve been now. You get what I mean.”

A steam-powered whistle materialized in a corner of the room and immediately sounded.

“Aaand that’s the end of my shift,” he proclaimed. “I’ll be back tomorrow for the rest.”

With a quick salute, he faded into thin air.

Irina added, “I’ll be going now.”

She headed towards the newly formed egress, only to pause in her tracks.

“Oh, one last thing.”

She turned around and faced Sofia.

“My name is Irina.”

Turning back to her improvised escape path, she passed through the opening in the wall and found herself back at the main entrance to The Factory.

She noticed that Sofia, wherever she was, wanted to speak to her telepathically, so she lowered her mental defenses and let her speak.

I’ll be honest, Russian Gothic, I wasn’t sure if you knew what fun even was when you first arrived at the gates to my domain. You seemed like a clichéd trope: the woman who never noticed how insanely beautiful she is, and has never enjoyed herself in her entire life, sexually or otherwise.

Yeah, I’ve heard that one before.

And then I saw you at work just now! I honestly, truly, legitimately, genuinely was absolutely almost sorta kinda vaguely surprised at that. You managed to out-stupify me. Me: the Super Goddess whose thing is literally outstupification.

Are you working towards something resembling a point here? Irina asked.

Eh, I dunno, Sofia mentally shrugged. Sometimes I just say things for the hell of it, you know?

No, I can’t really say that I do. We may be equally powerful, but you’re nothing like me. Something you don’t seem to grasp is that there are ways to enjoy oneself that don’t require the wanton spread of chaos.

Says the woman who destroyed all existence with an uncontained Super Orgasm.

Irina could sense Sofia was smiling.

You’re alright, vieja, Sofia thought with a chuckle. Let’s do this again sometime. Maybe you could do the testing.

You would make for a very interesting test subject.... Irina thought for a moment before continuing, I will consider your offer, сумасшедшая сука.

Awww, I love you too! I’d ask if you’re down to fuck, but I gotta wrap up this story. You know, epilogue and all that? How’s later sound for you?

Stop stalling and do whatever you have to do.