The Milk Sea was silent.
For the first time since its rebellion, its endless waves stilled—not from peace, but from exhaustion, as if the ocean itself had climaxed too hard to move. Sticky milk and cum rain drizzled from the skies, falling onto the broken priestesses, the moaning milkmaids, the trembling avatars—every one of them reduced to dripping, twitching slaves of Kaito's release.
At the center of it all, he stood tall, cock still buried deep in the newborn goddess's swollen cunt. His seed overflowed her in streams, running down her thighs, painting her skin, spilling into the tide—but inside her womb, his warmth had rooted. Her belly glowed faintly, round and taut, stretching with more than mere pregnancy. She was creation reborn, incubating his essence as a new law of existence.
