OutBreak Survival

"Thank you for the group agreement." you say, nodding to the room. "Honestly - I'm not overly worried about Masane going out of control. It's having the woman's emotionally driven stupidity directly confronting me without end that would be intolerable."

You pause, a thought forming. "I'd end up giving her one of the ships and all the kids without a teleportation circle just to keep her busy and away from me." Another pause. "Actually... that might be an idea for later."

Bulma's eyebrows shoot up. C.C. snorts into her pizza.

Your hand finds Yoruichi's purple ponytail. You grip it firmly and pull her head back gently while your other hand presses against her lower back, pinning her tighter against your lap. She gasps, dark skin flushing, golden eyes going wide with delight.

"For now, this meeting is almost complete. At Albedo's insistence, I'm not allowed to go anywhere alone." You catch Albedo's half-aroused, half-furious glare and continue. "I need three volunteers to come with me flying invisibly over to each of the ships and watch me make the two teleportation circles."

Yoruichi writhes against you, her minimal robe riding higher. You feel her bare thighs squeeze your hips.

"This gives this naughty exhibitionist a choice," you say, tugging her ponytail again. She moans softly. "She can ride me now, being watched by all her roommates - or she can be my first guard. Would she like to be ridden invisibly in the air over hundreds of women she doesn't know? While they try to figure out where her moaning is coming from?"

The galley goes silent for exactly two heartbeats.

Yoruichi's golden eyes blaze. Her lips curl into a feral grin. "You," she breathes, rolling her hips deliberately against your hard cock through your cargo pants, "are a terrible man."

She leans forward, purple hair sliding out of your grip to cascade over your shoulder, lips brushing your ear. "Invisible. In the air. Over strangers who can hear me but not see me." Her tongue traces your earlobe. "That's not even a choice, Brad. That's a gift."

She slides off your lap with deliberate slowness, her robe barely covering anything as she stands. "I'm your first."

Nova pushes off the wall immediately. "Second. Psionic overwatch."

Mikasa steps forward without hesitation, black eyes steady. "Third."

Erza raises her hand. "I would volunteer, but my armor would complicate invisibility."

"I'll take next time," Musashi says, stretching her silver-pink hair back. "My katana and invisibility don't mix well either."

Rin folds her arms. "I'll monitor from here."

Albedo straightens in her seat, still visibly flushed, wings twitching. "I will... adjust the governance complaint presentation for tomorrow morning." Her voice is strained with unresolved arousal.

Yoruichi stretches like a cat, her dark body gleaming under the galley lights. "Should I change into something more... accessible?"

"No," you say. "What you're wearing is fine."

"Enjoy your dinner," you announce, standing with Yoruichi's hand in yours. "Someone please guard the Gate to keep the newly resurrected from wandering onto a different ship."

Musashi raises her chopsticks in acknowledgment. "I'll take first watch."

You squeeze Yoruichi's fingers. "Ready?"

Her golden eyes gleam. "Always."

"Teleport." The world folds. Los Angeles materializes around you - dark streets, shattered storefronts, the distant groan of something dead shuffling three blocks east. You cast "Greater Invisibility" on both of you immediately, Yoruichi's dark skin vanishing from sight along with your own form.

You walk slowly, Shadowview painting the city in thermal gradients. A cluster of survivors huddle around a barrel fire two streets over - eight heat signatures, armed with improvised weapons. You give them wide berth, moving through alleys slick with rain and something darker.

The first circle goes down in a parking structure on Wilshire - behind a concrete pillar, out of direct sight. Second in an abandoned laundromat on San Vicente. Third in a collapsed office building's lobby on Olympic. Fourth in a residential garage on Cloverfield, the overhead door still manually functional.

Each circle takes an slow ninety seconds of focused casting, mana flowing through your fingers into geometric patterns that glow violet before settling into dormant silver. Four destinations, spread across roughly a mile.

Yoruichi presses against your invisible back during the third circle. "This is taking too long," she whispers against your neck. "I'm getting impatient."

"Patience."

"You promised me something spectacular."

Taking her hand, having finished the forth, "I did, and two things left to do before you get it. Teleport." Back to the Anchorage flight deck. The night air hits differently here - salt and diesel instead of LA's rot. You walk through the Gate without breaking stride, emerging onto the Icon of the Seas' polished deck. The ship is eerily silent now - no zombies, no survivors, just 850 corpses arranged in neat rows by your assault team.

"Fly, Fly." The spells take hold. You rise, Yoruichi's arms wrapping around your neck from behind, her legs locking around your waist as you ascend toward the bow. The ocean stretches black and infinite below.

The front teleportation circle takes shape on the side of the forward observation deck - a wide open space with railings, perfect for directing foot traffic. You link it to the Wilshire parking structure circle, the connection snapping into place with a pulse of mana that makes Yoruichi shiver against you.

Then the Interface.

You pull up the ship's systems. The command structure unfolds:

[ICON OF THE SEAS - INTERFACE]

Auto-Cast: Dominate Person

Target: Any living

Duration: Permanent until dispelled, or leaves the vessel

Status: ACTIVE

Auto-Cast: True Resurrection

Target: Any valid corpse

Interval: 10 seconds

Status: ACTIVE

The Interface confirms both changes with a soft chime.

Yoruichi's breath is hot against your ear. "Is it done?"

"Front circle's complete. Four destination points spread across the LA. One of Four exile circles complete." You turn in the air, facing her. Her invisible form is pressed against yours, you can feel every curve of her body through the thin robe. "Now I need to make the three receiving circles here. The survivor-slave receivers."

She grinds against you, her thighs tightening. "And then?"

"And then," you say, your hand finding her hip, "I believe I owe someone a very public ride."

Her laugh is low and predatory.

You find a spot in the middle of the Icon's stern, landing on the open deck where moonlight cuts silver lines across the polished teak. Three teleportation circles form in a neat row against the railing - three more unconnected receivers.

Yoruichi wraps herself around you the instant you rise again, arms locked behind your neck, legs clamped around your waist, her robe riding up to expose the full curve of her thighs and hips. Her nipples drag across your chest through the thin fabric as she presses her face into your neck.

"Fly faster," she murmurs against your throat.

You grope her ass instead, fingers sinking into the firm dark flesh, kneading the muscle as you angle toward the Symphony. She gasps, grinding harder, her wet heat radiating through the thin barrier between you.

The Symphony materializes below - lights still burning on multiple decks, survivors clustered in groups on the pool deck and promenade. You land at the stern, setting down on a maintenance platform above the rear boarding area. A dozen women sit in folding chairs below, wrapped in blankets, talking in low voices.

You find a recessed alcove beside a lifeboat davit - sheltered from direct view but close enough that sound carries. The teleportation circle takes ninety seconds, mana threading into the deck plating, connecting back to one of three receiving array's on the Icon.

Yoruichi doesn't let go. Her hips roll against yours in slow, deliberate circles, her breath coming faster. "One more Circle after this," she whispers, teeth grazing your earlobe. "Then-"

"Shh." You carry her forward along the upper deck, invisible, Shadowview revealing the survivors clearly below in the reduced lighting. Women holding children. A cluster of teenagers passing phones around - charging phones likely allowed to reduce anxiety. An older woman in a cruise staff uniform organizing blankets.

You stop at the midpoint of the ship, where a wide interior wall faces the main pool deck. Thirty-odd survivors occupy the space below - sitting, standing, a few sleeping on lounge chairs. The acoustics are excellent.

You press Yoruichi against the wall. Her golden eyes go wide, then blaze with understanding.

"Here?" she breathes.

Your hand finds her panties. Soaked through - the fabric clings to swollen flesh, slick heat coating your fingers. You pull the material aside and free yourself, cock springing out hard and ready. She's dripping. You slide into her in one smooth thrust.

Yoruichi's moan echoes across the pool deck.

Below, heads turn. A woman in a pink cardigan glances up at the wall, frowning. "Did you hear that?"

"Probably the wind," another's voice answers.

You thrust deeper, pinning Yoruichi's thighs apart with your hips. Her pussy clenches around you - tight, wet, desperately aroused from twenty minutes of grinding. Her nails dig into your shoulders through your shirt.

"Oh fuck-" she gasps, loud enough that two women on the nearest lounge chair sit up straight.

"That's definitely not wind."

Yoruichi laughs breathlessly, then moans again as you bottom out inside her. Her dark skin gleams with sweat, robe bunched around her waist, breasts bouncing with each thrust. You grip her hip with one hand and her ponytail with the other, pulling her head back.

"Louder," you tell her.

She obeys. Her cries ring across the deck - sharp, rhythmic, unmistakably sexual. Below, confusion spreads. Someone stands. A flashlight beam sweeps the wall and finds nothing.

"Is someone fucking up there?"

"There aren't any men left on the ship... right?"

"If there is give me a turn."

Yoruichi cums first, her pussy spasming around your cock, legs shaking against your sides. You follow seconds later, burying yourself deep as you release inside her. Her final moan stretches long and satisfied.

Below, the survivors search the empty walls and alcoves, bewildered unable to find the source.

You pull out, tuck yourself away, and lift Yoruichi - still trembling - back into your arms. "One more circle," you murmur. "Then it's Nova's turn."

Her golden eyes are glazed with pleasure. "You're insane," she whispers, smiling.

You kiss Yoruichi deep, tasting her lips, her tongue sliding against yours with lazy satisfaction. She hums into your mouth, dark fingers threading through your hair.

"Mmm. You taste like victory," she murmurs against your lips.

You break the kiss and fly forward along the Symphony's upper deck, leaving the cluster of bewildered survivors below still scanning the walls and alcoves for the phantom lover. A woman in a cruise staff uniform is directing two others with flashlights toward the spot where Yoruichi's moans echoed loudest.

The front observation deck is almost empty - wide open space with railings overlooking the black ocean. You set Yoruichi down gently, her robe still bunched around her waist, thighs glistening. She steadies herself against the railing while you kneel, fingers tracing the second teleportation circle into the deck plating. The pattern glows violet, then silver, linking to the San Vicente laundromat destination in Los Angeles.

"Two down," you say, standing. "Two more ships."

Yoruichi wraps herself around you again as you lift off, but this time the intention has softened into something warmer. Her cheek rests against your shoulder as you fly the short distance back to the Icon, her fingers tracing idly on your chest through your shirt. You pet her hair, her back, the curve of her hip - and she purrs contentedly, a sound that's almost literally feline.

"I could stay like this for hours," she says quietly.

"You'd fall asleep."

"I would."

The Gate shimmers ahead. You land on the Icon's deck, dispel the invisibility on both of you, and walk through. The Anchorage flight deck greets you with salt air and the distant hum of enchanted systems.

Nova steps forward immediately, midnight armor catching the floodlights. Mikasa stands beside her, arms folded, black eyes scanning you and Yoruichi with professional assessment.

"Mission accomplished?" Nova asks, her psionic presence brushing yours lightly.

"Symphony's done. Two circles placed - one rear linked to Icon, one front linked to LA." You glance at Yoruichi, who stretches languidly, her robe finally settling back into place. "Mariner next. Nova, you're with me."

Nova's golden eyes brighten beneath her helmet visor. "Understood."

You offer her your hand. She takes it without hesitation, her armored fingers interlacing with yours. "Greater Invisibility, Greater Invisibility." The spells wash over you both, her midnight armor vanishing from sight.

"Fly." The spell takes hold on her as well, her weight becoming negligible as you both rise from the flight deck. You fly hand in hand across the dark water toward the Mariner of the Seas, its lights a distant constellation growing brighter.

Nova's psionics press warm against your mind - not intrusive, just... present. Connected.

"This is nice," she sends through the Telepathy Web. "Flying together. Holding hands."

"You could fly on your own, if you don't want to." you reply, squeezing her fingers.

"I know. I don't want to."

The Mariner grows as you approach - smaller than the Symphony, older design, but still massive. You circle the rear deck, Shadowview revealing the survivors clearly. Fewer people here - maybe two hundred, clustered in the lower pool area and along the promenade. A woman with short gray hair is organizing a supply inventory on the aft deck, clipboard in hand, surrounded by six helpers.

You find what you're looking for - a recessed maintenance alcove beside a lifeboat station, sheltered from direct view.

You kneel beside the lifeboat davit, fingers tracing the teleportation circle into the deck plating. Nova hovers beside you, her invisible form a warm presence against your shoulder. The pattern glows violet, then silver, linking back to the second receiving circle on the Icon.

"Done here," you say, standing. "Lets observe the survivors while heading to the front."

You fly together slowly over the Mariner, Shadowview revealing the survivors below. A cluster of twenty women occupy the main pool deck - some sleeping on lounge chairs, others gathered around a battery-powered radio. Children tucked under blankets. The older woman in a staff polo shirt is counting water bottles on a clipboard.

"Yoruichi wanted to cause minor chaos," you say, guiding Nova's hand in yours as you drift above the promenade. "Having her moans heard through the ship. Would you want the same?"

Nova's psionic presence flares warm against your mind. "You're offering to go down on me again."

"I am." returning to telepathy, Nova seems to prefer it.

She's quiet for three heartbeats. Then her fingers tighten around yours.

"I have a condition. For the contract." Her voice through the Telepathy Web carries weight - something she's rehearsed. "When we open the Gates. When we go back to my world. I want to bring the others with me. All of them. The surviving Specter clones. Willing or not, Master-Servant Contracts or Domination."

You process that. Seven - possibly more, how big is her clone program - psionic ghost operatives. Each one a living beautiful lethal weapon.

"I'll agree to taking them all in," you say. "But they can't be slaves forever. Eventually they'll need to make their own choice."

Nova's grip relaxes. Her helmet turns toward you, golden eyes visible even through the invisibility shimmer. "That's... more than I expected." A pause. "Yes. That's acceptable. They deserve the chance to choose."

"Then we agree on conditions."

"We agree on conditions." Her psionics brush yours with something that feels like relief and hunger simultaneously. "And yes - I absolutely want to taunt these civilians."

You guide her by the hand toward a raised wall overlooking the pool deck - almost the same configuration Yoruichi used on the Symphony. Acoustics here are even better; the curved superstructure creates a natural amplifier. Twenty-three survivors sit below, the radio crackling softly.

You press Nova against the wall, your hands finding her curves through the midnight armor. She gasps as your fingers trace down her sides, finding the waist seal of her suit. You pull it apart, then tug her undersuit pants down past her hips. You can remember her skin, pale where the armor usually covers - smooth, toned, imagining her flush.

"You're shaking," you murmur against her neck.

"Anticipation." Her psionics pulse. "Not fear."

You kneel in the air, Fly keeping you suspended, and press your mouth against her pussy. She's already wet - has been since the flight started, you realize. Your tongue parts her folds, tasting salt and arousal, and Nova's hips jerk forward.

"Oh-" The sound escapes through the Telepathy Web and her actual mouth simultaneously. Below, a woman sitting near the radio looks up sharply.

"Did you hear something?"

You lick deeper, finding her clit - swollen, sensitive, begging for attention. Nova's thighs clamp around your head, her armored fingers trying to find grip on the flat wall. You suck gently, then harder, tongue circling with deliberate precision.

"Fuck- YES-" Her voice rings out audibly, echoing off the curved wall. "Right there-"

Below, confusion spreads. Three women stand. A flashlight beam sweeps upward.

"Is someone up there?"

Nova cums with a sharp cry that bounces across the entire pool deck, her pussy clenching against your tongue, psionic energy crackling visibly for a split second before she wrestles it under control. Her legs shake. Her fingers left dents in the metal.

The survivors below looking around at the empty wall, flashlights finding nothing.

"That," Nova sends, breathless, "was incredible."