The flood had no shore anymore.
No riverbanks. No mountains. No sky.
All of Elandria had dissolved into one endless womb of moans and wetness. The Milk River was now an ocean of warmth, seeded by Kaito's cock. From its waves, new holes bloomed every second—floating pussies that moaned like seashells, mouths of milk that kissed the tide, and writhing bodies that rose and fell as though the water itself had become flesh.
And at the center of it, upon a throne made from the cracked shell of the Void Egg, she waited.
The Mother of Holes.
Her body was unbearable to look at—too much hole, too much pussy, too much hunger. Each breath opened hundreds of slits across her body, dripping fountains of white nectar into the ocean below. Her eyes were not eyes, but two wet cunts that blinked and wept milk. Her mouth was a sucking void, lined not with teeth, but with tongues. Her skin glistened like soaked flesh, pale and shining, marked with lips that begged in chorus.
