The air around Hogwarts Castle was thick with the scent of damp earth and wet grass, mixed with a faint tang of saltpeter—remnants of yesterday's magic practice.
"Malfoy." A crisp, somewhat urgent voice came from behind.
Draco Malfoy's footsteps faltered. He had just returned from the Quidditch pitch, his face flushed with the annoyance of losing to Gryffindor. His mood was at rock bottom. Harry Potter, that scar-headed brat, had been incredibly lucky today, appearing from impossible angles every time Draco was about to seize the Golden Snitch. Just thinking about Potter's smug grin in mid-air made Draco's teeth ache with rage.
Turning around impatiently, he scowled deeper upon seeing Hermione Granger. The Gryffindor know-it-all and Potter's best friend—her stopping him could only mean trouble.
However, Draco froze when he saw the look on her face. Hermione looked as if she had run all the way; her hair was damp from the rain, brown curls clinging to her forehead, and her face was flushed with exertion as she panted for breath.
"Have you... seen Jerry lately?" she asked. Her voice lacked its usual classroom confidence, replaced by a palpable, raw anxiety.
Hearing "Jerry," the fire of Draco's anger was doused by a bucket of cold water. He looked into her brown eyes and saw genuine worry. This wasn't a ploy for Potter; Draco realized that instantly.
He cleared his throat, swallowing the insult "Mudblood" that sat on the tip of his tongue, replacing it with a polite tone he wasn't quite used to.
"Miss Granger," he said, trying not to sound too sharp. "I don't know where Jerry is. He hasn't been in the dormitory for days." He paused, remembering his recent encounter. "I asked Professor Snape, but... he told me to mind my own business."
Snape's cold gaze and ruthless words still made Draco feel a bit embarrassed. He saw Hermione's eyes dim, the worry lines on her brow deepening.
"Perhaps you should ask Catherine," Draco added, his voice dropping. His gray eyes lacked their usual mockery as he glanced toward the dungeons. "All of Slytherin knows she and Jerry are close. If anyone knows where he is, it's her." He hesitated, then added, "Or... go straight to Professor McGonagall. She's the Deputy Headmistress. She can't be unaware of a student missing for this many days."
Hermione looked at him in surprise, shocked to hear such reasonable advice from Draco Malfoy. Just as she was about to thank him, Draco looked away toward the dark, rain-streaked lake.
"Listen, Hermione... I have my prejudices," he muttered, still not looking at her. "But Jerry... he's my friend. One of the very few." He kicked at the wet dirt irritably. "If you... if you find out where he actually is, let me know."
He finally looked at her, his eyes reflecting a mix of agitation and true concern. "I've been looking for him too. I'm worried about his safety... Goodbye!"
Before Hermione could react, Draco tightened his collar and hurried away into the gray rain, looking very much like a man fleeing from his own vulnerability.
"Look at Malfoy run! I thought he'd stay for a fight!" Ron's mocking voice broke the silence as he and Harry walked up.
Harry, more perceptive, noticed Hermione's distress. "Hermione, what's wrong? You look upset."
Hermione ignored Ron's smug face. She didn't want to hear his petty remarks, especially when she feared Jerry might be in real danger. She turned and walked away into the rain.
"Hermione, where are you going?" Harry called out.
"To the... girls' bathroom!" her voice echoed back.
Unaware that anyone was searching for him, Jerry was enjoying a rare moment of warmth in the crumbling world. He was shirtless, lounging on the narrow metal bed with his back against the cold bulkhead.
In his arms, he held Kaelia's much larger, more voluptuous body. She was like a tame lioness, curled against him. Her massive wings were tucked in awkwardly due to the lack of space, the soft roots of her feathers pressed against Jerry's back, cocooning him.
Jerry's hand was currently cupping one of Kaelia's enormous breasts. It was staggering in size—nearly as large as his own head. His palm couldn't even fully wrap around it. His fingers sank deep into the soft, heavy mound of flesh, feeling the warmth of her blood beneath the skin. He kneaded it rhythmically, feeling the incredible elasticity and the hardened, sensitive peak grinding against his palm.
Kaelia's breath hitched. Jerry looked at her flushed cheeks and her gray eyes, which were misted with desire despite her efforts to remain composed. A playful smirk played on his lips.
"Are you sure you can actually read the text on this thing?" Jerry asked, referring to a brass and steel device that looked like a "tablet." It was covered in rivets and decorative brass lines. At the top, a skull relief flickered with two red crystal eyes, pulsing like a heartbeat.
The screen didn't show any known language, but a waterfall of binary—zeros and ones—interspersed with geometric symbols.
Kaelia, still limp from their previous session, leaned against the headboard. She wore only a loose robe Jerry had provided, which barely covered her heavy cleavage and thighs.
"Yes... I can," she whispered. She tapped the crystal screen, switching the interface. "This has a built-in teaching module. My ancestors learned Steam Dynamics from this. It translates the 'Holy Script' into our tongue."
She opened a folder. Most of the files were locked with flashing red icons. "We can't access most of it. We've spent years trying to crack the keys. We only have the basics... and the names of encrypted files. The hymn on that metal plate? I found it in an unlocked log file. I thought it was technical data, but it turned out to be a key."
Jerry watched her work. There was something surreal about a powerful Harpy—a magical creature—filtering through streams of data. Seeing her lean over, her robe sliding to reveal her curvy waist and the roots of her powerful wings, Jerry had an absurd thought: she would have made a great programmer.
Kaelia's movement stopped. She stared at a sequence of data, then looked at Jerry. Suddenly, a low hum vibrated from her throat. It grew into a solemn, metallic chant.
"...The flesh is weak, but the iron is eternal... Lead by the circuit, wisdom descends... Anoint my joints with holy oil, give me rebirth through the gears..."
As she sang the Hymn of the Omnissiah, a row of amber lights on the tablet began to pulse in rhythm. A red beam shot out from the skull's eyes, scanning Kaelia from her forehead down to her throat, resonating with her vocal cords.
Bzzz!
The binary waterfall on the screen vanished, replaced by a green loading bar. With a final ping, the bar hit 100%. The red light died. The ancient text evaporated, replaced by a new, violent torrent of zeros and ones flowing like a raging river.
"Did it work?" Jerry asked.
"I... I don't know..." Kaelia frowned, tapping the icons. "The translation program... it's gone. I've used it a hundred times, and it's always there. Now, it's just... disappeared."
Jerry took the heavy tablet from her lap. He didn't use the buttons; he placed his hand over the screen. His spiritual energy probed the core processor like a needle. He quickly withdrew. This was cold, non-magical technology—too delicate for brute magical force.
He laid back down, resting his head directly on Kaelia's soft, warm belly.
"In that case," Jerry murmured, "you'll have to teach me. I want to learn Steam Dynamics and Steam Alchemy."
Kaelia blinked, looking down at the boy on her stomach. His hair was soft against her skin.
"In exchange," Jerry added, "I'll teach you some... powerful evocation spells."
"Okay..."
Over the next few days, the command cabin became a classroom. Erica joined in at first, but she usually ended up nodding off. Kaelia patiently explained the basics.
"The boiler produces high-pressure steam... that's the heart of everything," Kaelia said, kneeling on the floor. Her robe was open, exposing her pale skin and the full arcs of her breasts. She traced lines on an oily blueprint.
Jerry lay beside her, his chin in his hand, his eyes wandering from the blueprints to the tethered waistline of her robe and her shapely, scaled legs.
"...The steam enters the cylinder, pushing the piston... converting heat into kinetic energy. But in Ironforge, we use superheated steam. It's much more efficient than saturated steam..."
Kaelia was lost in her world, drawing parts on the metal floor with chalk. She eventually looked up to find Jerry's playful gaze fixed on her open collar.
"Hey! Pay attention!" she chided, her face turning a lovely crimson as she clutched her robe shut.
Jerry laughed and took her wrist. "I tried learning your Harpy battle-arts," he said, rubbing his thumb over her pulse. "But my body is like a sieve. No matter how I train, the energy just disappears or turns into spiritual power."
He placed her hand on his chest. "Feel it."
Kaelia felt his steady heartbeat and firm muscles, but nothing else. No "blood-fury" or internal energy. His body felt like a pure, empty vessel for his soul.
"It's like my soul and body are incompatible," Jerry whispered. "So, I'll learn your Steam Alchemy. Knowledge and calculation suit me better."
Kaelia didn't pull her hand away.
"Me too!" a cheerful voice broke the intimacy. Erica had woken up. Her massive, beautiful centaur body trotted over, her amber eyes sparkling. She had recovered her spirits entirely. Her human torso was barely covered by a few leather straps across her large, bouncing breasts.
She leaned her upper body over the bed next to Jerry, rubbing her cheek against his and Kaelia's hand. "What are we learning? I want to hear!"
Jerry, sandwiched between these two massive peaks of femininity, felt like he had fallen into a paradise. He sat up and leaned his back against Erica's soft, firm chest, while pulling Kaelia against his other side.
He sat there, left arm around the voluptuous Harpy commander, right arm around the tall, wide-chested Centaur girl. His hands unceremoniously cupped a breast on each side, feeling the different but equally breathtaking warmth of the two women.
The train roared across the Silent Plains for twenty days, the journey proving unexpectedly smooth.
On the path forward, several survivor bastards similar to Ironforge were scattered like stars. Their appearances were bizarre: some resembled giant metal pyramids, while others were subterranean steel hives. Yet regardless of their shape, the core technology of these strongholds originated from the same "Holy Relic Tablets" of Steam Dynamics.
Whenever the massive, mobile fortress-like steam train slowly docked outside these strongholds, it initially triggered panic and alarm. However, after Kaelia communicated with them, all hostility evaporated. Procuring supplies became exceptionally easy. Despite their tight resources, these strongholds were more than willing to trade for technical guidance from Jerry's clearly superior steam technology.
And when they heard the giant train's ultimate destination—to completely destroy the source of all disaster, the Central Hive—every stronghold leader supported them without hesitation. The issue of "Insectification" was never the concern of just one fortress; it was the Sword of Damocles hanging over every sentient being on the Silent Plain. After all, no one wanted themselves or their loved ones to wake up one day as mindless, killing insects. Destroying the Hive was the most fundamental and direct goal that could unite all survivors.
Thus, when the train set off again, a grand procession of various smaller steam trains followed in its wake. These trains couldn't compare to Jerry's steel behemoth, but following the pre-laid tracks proved no problem. They trailed behind as both a moral support and a reserve force.
Finally, at dusk on the twenty-seventh day, when the sunset dyed the horizon blood-red, Jerry's lead train slowed to a halt. Kaelia stood before the massive observation window of the command center, her expression grave.
"We've arrived," Kaelia whispered. "The outer perimeter of the Hive is just ahead."
Peering through the glass scratched by sand and dust, the distant horizon was no longer a monotonous wasteland. A dark purple fungal carpet, like a skin disease, began to cover the earth. The air was thick with a cloying, nauseating sweetness. The entire world was terrifyingly silent.
Jerry took the heavy brass telescope from Kaelia. He propped the barrel on the windowsill, the cold metal making his fingers twitch slightly. He squinted through the eyepiece and slowly turned the focus knob.
The blurred scene sharpened. On the distant horizon, dozens of indescribable giant towers loomed. They looked like nothing made by intelligent life—their bodies were a localized, translucent dark red, covered in pulsating purple veins that resembled human blood vessels. At the top of these towers were massive crystalline structures like compound eyes, greedily aimed at the blood-red sunset, sucking away the last traces of light and heat. The towers rose and fell rhythmically with the pulsing veins, like giant hearts plugged into the earth.
Between these flesh-towers, on the fungal carpet, were giant, ulcer-like green pools. The water wasn't clear; it was a thick, oil-like substance churning with yellow-green bubbles. Even from this distance, Jerry could almost smell the intense rot and eerie sweetness.
Countless bizarre insects scurried across the carpet with cold efficiency. Some were small as hounds, bone spikes on their backs, skittering on six limbs. Others were like moving hills with thick carapaces, dragging heavy "cargo" with massive claws.
That "cargo" consisted of lifeless corpses. He saw dwarves with half their bodies eaten away, intestines trailing on the ground. He saw massive wasteland beasts with their fur stripped, revealing raw red muscle. He even saw smaller insect corpses. The goal of these worker bugs was simple: throw the corpses into the churning green pools. Whether it was a whole body or just a severed arm, the moment it hit the liquid, it let out a sizzle like searing meat and sank rapidly.
Accompanying this was a hair-raising glug... glug... glug... sound. The green pools churned violently as corpses melted into pure nutrients to nourish the land and the pulsating flesh-towers.
Jerry lowered the telescope. His face showed no fear, only a cold, almost appreciative focus.
"Warning! High energy signature detected ahead!" The alarm system shrieked.
Jerry raised the telescope again. At the border of the fungal carpet and the wasteland, a massive cloud of dust surged into the sky. Within the dust, countless figures shimmering with metallic luster charged toward them. They weren't bugs; they were taller and moved with tactical precision.
"Nomads!" Kaelia recognized them instantly. "Steam Nomads living in this region!"
As they drew closer, their full appearance became clear. They were warriors riding modified mechanical beasts. Each wore heavy armor made of scavenged metal and carried steam-driven weapons: chain-swords and high-pressure steam cannons. However, the most striking thing was their bodies. Almost all of them showed degrees of insectification. Some had arms replaced by sickle-shaped scythe-limbs; others had chitinous insect wings growing from their backs. Half of one man's face had been replaced by a compound eye and mandibles. Yet, their eyes remained clear—filled with reason and warrior's resolve, not insectoid madness.
They formed a steel torrent, blocking the train's path. Then, a shadow large enough to blot out the sun rose from behind them.
It was a dragon. A jet-black dragon the size of a mountain. But it, too, was insectified. Its impenetrable scales were mostly covered by a shimmering, bone-white exoskeleton. Its wings were tattered, replaced by four pairs of dragonfly-like chitinous wings. Its head retained a draconic shape, but one eye was a massive red compound eye. Most lethal was its tail—once a strong dragon tail, now a thirty-meter-long scorpion-like stinger. Thick steam pipes were wrapped around its limbs like parasitic vines, hissing with white steam.
The insect-dragon hovered in the air, its remaining golden dragon eye staring coldly at the train. A suffocating Dragon Awe swept over the battlefield like a tsunami.
"I am the 'Guardian,' Onyxia," a grand voice with a metallic rasp echoed in everyone's mind. "Outlanders, state your intent. This is the border. Any unauthorized intruder will be treated as an enemy."
Kaelia and Erica turned pale. As natives, they knew the legends of the Five Great Dragons—the world's guardian gods that vanished after the final war with the Swarm.
Jerry put down the telescope, his feverish focus replaced by cold scrutiny. He looked directly at the dragon. "Guardian?" he repeated, a smirk playing on his lips. He stepped to the front of the train, standing fearlessly before the warriors and the dragon. His voice rang out through the speakers.
"We are here to end this. We must enter the Hive and kill the Queen."
The grand voice returned, now filled with deep exhaustion. "End it? Ignorant outlanders. Your 'ending' would only be the start of another cataclysm. This silence you see is the peace my kin bought with their lives. We crippled the Queen, forcing her into a long slumber. That is the only reason your fragile races could build railroads and survive this long."
Onyxia's golden eye glared at Jerry. "The Hive is now a shell running on instinct. But the Queen is not dead; she is accumulating power. Any reckless intrusion will wake her! Once she wakes, every living thing on this land will become her fodder. And I... a dying old dragon, will no longer be able to stop her endless army. You are seeking your own deaths and digging a grave for the world!"
"On my way here, I visited several fortresses," Jerry said, ignoring her warning. "Do you know why they followed me? Because they are afraid. They pinned their hopes on me to solve this trouble." He looked up into the giant eye, his smile vanishing. "And you, Onyxia. Your 'guardianship' is just a cowardly compromise. You've protected nothing; you've only delayed the inevitable so you and these half-human warriors can linger in misery."
Jerry's voice was cruel, cutting into the nomads' hearts and Onyxia's pride. "You're afraid. You're afraid we'll wake the Queen because you know that in your broken, parasitized state, you're no match for her. The slumber your kin died for is just a fragile balance you use to survive."
"SHUT UP!" Onyxia roared. Her massive scorpion tail whipped forward with a bone-shattering whistle, aimed directly at Jerry. The bone spike was large enough to pierce a mountain.
Facing the destructive force, Jerry didn't even blink. Just before the cold, blue-glowing spike hit, his body vanished like smoke.
BOOM! The spike smashed into the ground, creating a massive crater.
"Up here, big guy," Jerry's voice mocked from above her head. Onyxia looked up, seeing only a flash of blue light. Jerry reappeared to her left, floating in mid-air. He held his hands out, and dozens of glowing white orbs the size of human heads coalesced.
"Taste this." He waved his arms, and the orbs swarmed Onyxia like hounds.
Onyxia's mountain-sized body was her greatest weakness now. She couldn't dodge. BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! Dense explosions rocked her body. While the arcane orbs couldn't pierce her scales and chitin, the impact and heat made her roar in pain. Her auxiliary steam pipes shattered, shrouding her in white mist.
"Little bug!" Onyxia was enraged. She inhaled, her chest swelling, golden eye burning with fire. She opened her mouth to unleash dragon breath.
However, Jerry teleported again, appearing less than ten meters directly in front of her open maw. He wasn't holding orbs this time, but a multi-meter-long spear of pure ice, radiating a temperature that froze the air.
"Swallow it," Jerry said coldly, hurling the ice spear into her bottomless throat.
"Ugh!" The dragon breath was forced back. The collision of searing dragon fire and extreme ice caused an internal explosion. Onyxia let out a muffled roar of agony as black smoke and ice shards mixed with dragon blood erupted from her nostrils and mouth.
The humiliated black dragon fell into a frenzy, thrashing through the steam to find the annoying gnat. But Jerry was like a ghost, appearing in her blind spots and unleashing relentless magic. Arcane, frost, fire—he poured it all on her. Finally, after a giant ice spike pierced one of her chitinous wings, Onyxia let out a roar of defeat. She knew she couldn't catch him in this bloated form.
Within the steam, her massive body began to shrink and deform. Bones cracked, and flesh reorganized. When the mist cleared, it was no longer a dragon, but a staggeringly tall woman. Onyxia stood two heads taller than a human female, her proportions perfect. Jet-black hair cascaded down a beautiful, icy face.
Her upper body was dominated by two impossibly massive, engorged breasts. They were so majestic that clothing seemed redundant. Only a few black scales and white chitin plates covered her loins, shoulders, and thighs. Beneath and beside those heaving mounds, one could see dark red, insect-like skin textures and brass steam-ports.
Onyxia panted, her massive chest heaving with every breath. Sweat slid down her collarbone and vanished into the bottomless, tempting canyon between her breasts. She stared at Jerry with golden slit-pupils full of murderous intent.
"Now we are roughly the same size, brat," Onyxia hissed.
"No, now mine is bigger!" Jerry replied. Above his head, a terrifyingly large fireball was forming—the size of a small steam truck. Its core was blinding white, its outer layer roiling orange flame.
"No!" Onyxia's pupils contracted. She felt the energy that could melt her. She tried to flee or change back, but it was too late.
Jerry slammed the sun-like orb down. BOOM! A mushroom cloud rose, and the shockwave leveled the surroundings. When the dust settled, there was only a glass-rimmed crater. In the center, Onyxia lay charred and broken in a humiliating sprawl. Most of her scales were shattered, revealing scorched, raw flesh.
"Glug... glug..." Her throat could only make meaningless sounds as blood and ash leaked from her lips.
A shadow fell over her. Jerry descended, his leather boot stepping directly onto her massive left breast.
Squish! The pressure forced a pained groan from her. But her draconic vitality was extraordinary. Even now, her body was self-repairing. Pink flesh wiggled under charred skin, and black scales sprouted like bamboo shoots. Within breaths, the breast Jerry was stepping on began to regain its swollen contour.
However, the repair couldn't keep up with the insect infestation. The new scales had insectoid textures. Broken steam pipes were being replaced by chitinous growths.
Jerry watched this, his gaze piercing through her agony. He didn't step back; he moved his foot to grind his toe into a half-healed burn on her waist. The wound was deep enough to see black, worm-like veins pulsing.
"You heal fast," Jerry said playfully. "But these little things don't seem to want to leave your body."
Onyxia tensed. She wanted to fight, but her body felt pinned by an invisible mountain. She could only feel Jerry's cool boot-tip rubbing her wound, sending an unbearable mix of tingle and humiliation through her.
Jerry crouched down, rudely grabbing her charred chin to force her to look at him. His other hand slid down her body, over the smooth but scaly curve of her belly. Onyxia's body arched instinctively.
"A dragon's body is tough. Too bad it couldn't stop the bugs." Jerry stood up, dragging Onyxia's massive, bloody frame from the ground. Compared to her nearly two-meter height and absurdly wide chest and hips, Jerry looked small, yet he held absolute power.
"Two choices," Jerry said. "Either I give you a 'release' right now and wipe your half-human, half-monster form from the world..." He raised a hand, gathering a pulsing dark-purple orb. "Or... take us in. Take us to the 'Queen' you're so afraid of."
Onyxia's slit-pupils contracted. Dignity made her try to struggle against his spiritual pressure.
"The first choice, then." Jerry's smile vanished.
But instead of the purple orb hitting her head, Jerry's other hand shot out like a blade.
PLUUGH! A wet, squelching sound of penetration.
"EE-UUUGH! OH-HO-HO-HOOOO!"
"Squelch... sizzle..."
"Nngh... ahhh... no... stop... stop..."
Onyxia's consciousness blurred. She bucked her hips, trying to escape the hand working inside her, but the movement only allowed him to drive deeper. A strange heat exploded from her lower abdomen, where Jerry's palm was mercilessly ravaging her. The heat ignored her will, crashing through her reason and defensive pride, sweeping her whole body with a pleasure so intense she nearly fainted.
"AH... AHHHHHHHH!" With a high-pitched, distorted scream, her body arched back into a terrifying curve.
"Now, your choice?" Jerry asked again, his voice still cold.
Onyxia's lips trembled. This time, what came out wasn't a roar, but a broken, sobbing sound of total submission.
"I... will take... you... in..."