"Where are we going?!"

"I don't know! I just... started running." Jennifer said.

"N-no one's.... No one's chasing us!" Jones replied, body refusing to make sentences.

Jennifer turned to check over her shoulder, finally slowing her frantic flight through the corridors. Nurse Jones stopped too, exhaustion setting in after having to keep up with her heroine. She sank forwards, hands on her knees, trying to claw back the strength that had been strangled out of her by the run. "H-holy shit." She wheezed.

"Oh, fuck. I'm so sorry." Jennifer gently put a hand on Jones' back. "I didn't even think about you not being able to keep up. Are you okay?"

"N-no... No, I'm fine. I should... Um... Do more cardio..." She straightened up, "we need... To hurry."

Jennifer looked down the path they'd just taken, still apprehensive about slowing down. No footsteps could be heard and no hyena laughter. No one was coming. "Where are we going?" She asked, following, trying to get her bearings.

"I think I know... where we are." Jones was slowly recovering, face beet red. "We should be able to get to a safe place from here."

"Where?"

The woman stopped then, turning to look at Jennifer. She could sense a lingering doubt behind Jones' frown. Whatever internal test she was running, Jennifer must have passed. "We're going to my lab. They set me up some personal facilities here. I kind of..." She trailed off, not sure if she should continue.

"You made G37, I know." Nurse Jones was surprised but swiftly a distrust replaced that shock. Her body language stiffened and she edged further away, putting more space between the two women.

She opened her mouth to reply when both women jumped at the sound of a siren. The white surroundings flashed maroon. "Fuck... Fuck!" Jones stared at Jennifer hard for a moment, weighing her options. She shook her head, steeling her conviction. "C'mon. Quick." She waved an arm to follow her, hurrying down an adjacent, yet identical, corridor.

Jones' comparatively tiny legs pumped under her in a laughable run. Jennifer kept up with a quick walk. No wonder she'd been so out of breath earlier. A single, metal door came into view. This one had no ID scanner and instead had a metal numberpad. Jones rapidly punched in some numbers and the door let out a hiss. She turned the large, stiff handle with a 'cha-chunk' and swung it wide, both women rushing in. The door swung closed.

The office on the other side looked like a miniature version of the room they'd just been in. It was incredibly cramped, full of equipment and machines with a single stool at the bench. "This is my office." The nurse said, taking off her jacket, throwing it onto the stool angrily. She heaved a sigh, rubbing her face with her hands, anxiety continuing to weigh on her. They'd just survived a very close encounter. Planting her hands on the bench, leaning her weight on it like a bar man, she spoke again. "Well, my office at least until that giant bitch gets me canned."

"Wait, fired? You just said this is your research." Jennifer replied crossing her arms.

Jones looked up at her, questioning her recent decision to bring Jennifer in here. She was still an inmate, after all. One that towered over her. Jones' expression softened and she ran a hand over her face. "Yeah, fuck it. You deserve to know the truth. Everything. You should sit, there's a lot to explain."

Jennifer didn't comply at first but, after a few terse seconds, she eventually gave in. It would be best to cut this woman some slack considering the morning she'd had so far, she thought. Easing onto the uncomfortably small stool, Jennifer perched on the creaking chair, unsure of it's structural integrity under her weight.

Jones tied her hair up into a bun, collected her thoughts, and began her story. "G37 was made using my research. Research that Smith and his team hijacked." The blonde tilted her head, an eyebrow rising. Jones nibbled her lip, as if even saying that had stung. "I'm not a part of his team or his organisation... Or, I wasn't. I'm a - was a doctor. I side stepped into research a while ago, looking into genetics. I.... I just got sick of seeing people slip through our fingers. Sure, we could save a lot but we never saved everyone." Jones stared at the floor for a moment, mind flashing through sad memories. "I wanted to cause change on a higher level. To help as many people as possible. So, I aimed to create a serum. Something that could be rolled out nationally, or globally. We theorised that we could make something that, in high doses, could heal intense trauma and, in low doses, speed up recovery time." Already, Jennifer's brain was putting pieces of the puzzle together. Amber's broken nose, her own bruises, Vásquez's Stan wound. It made sense. That's what G37 was originally designed for, healing.

"Using genetically modified cells, I made..." She laughed to herself, shaking her head, not even believing it. "I made amazing progress. I engineered a cell that divided faster than cancer cells and could develop to fit any niche like a stem cell. Boosting healing, recovery and also.... Muscle repair." That checked out too. "That last part caught someone's attention. Smith's team got wind of my research and poured money my way. They shipped me across the country. They gave me cutting edge tech." She frowned, looking at one of the machines. "A few weeks into a deal that was too good to be true, they sprang something on me. They wanted me to repurpose my work - and let's just say they made it very clear that it wasn't a choice."

Jones had to wind up before pitching the next part. "They wanted me to help make a better breed of soldier and.... Well, you've seen the results." She crossed her arms, hugging her own body in an attempt at comforting herself. Opposite her Jennifer was troubled. Ecstatic that her theories had been vindicated, but also sympathetic to Jones and how everything had been stripped away from her.

This all made sense. It explained why Jones wasn't a worker drone like the other nurses. Why she fought back and tried to stop Smith. Why she actually seemed to connect with the inmates on a more human level and show some empathy.

She had never intended for any of this.

Then Trish's words rang in her head. Could this woman really have asked to move here? Move here because their lives were so worthless. She probed the topic. "And you're here because someone died, right? Smith said one of your tests went wrong so you asked to come here? The next best thing to testing on animals was testing on inmates."

An appalled expression came across Jones' face and her arms shifted away from her body. "Next best thing?" Anger and indignation slipped in, fists quaking. "Is that what Smith fucking said? Fuck no. I.... I held his hand." She thrust a thumb at her own chest, a lips drawing tighter, voice wavering. "I held his hand while he fucking died. Screaming. I looked him in the eyes while my drug ripped his heart apart." Teardrops rolled down her cheeks as she shook. "I swore a fucking oath to help people and my drug killed him. I-I owned that! I quit - I left. But they wouldn't fucking let me. They threatened my family. That bald, robotic asshole found my family. They didn't move here for me. We moved here for him. So no more of his fucking tin men die in the tests."

The smaller woman exhaled, hands trembling as she contained a rage bigger than herself. Shame squeezed Jennifer's gut, all doubt dissipated like smoke in the wind. Jones was everything she'd thought she was. A good person in a shit situation. "I'm sorry."

"You shouldn't be. You're as fucked in all of this as I am." Jones dried her tears on the sleeve of her jumper, turning away as she sniffled.

"Still, thank you for explaining this all. And for giving more than half a shit about the inmates here. I... Um... Saw Smith slap you when you tried to stop the triple dose."

Mascara streaked eyes widened as Jones turned back. "Wha - how?"

"He put Trish and I next door so we'd get to watch Vásquez die. At least that's what he planned, I think."

"That... FUCKING Asshole!" The tiny woman bellowed in a large voice. She pounded a fist into the bench top, sending test tubes clinking together. Immediately, regret was painted across her face, one hand cradling the other.

"Yeah, he's a huge piece of shit." Came a sighed response. "Glad you hate him too."

Jones snorted. "Everyone does. Even his own team. That's why he's in this hell hole. Still, I can't believe he was trying to kill her from the beginning. I fucking knew it. I'm so happy she proved him wrong..."

"Yeah he guessed you would be. That's also when I found out this is your research. 'Jones is gonna be happy about this'." Jennifer mocked with a terrible expression.

Jones wrinkled her nose. "Jones? Oh..." She gave a half laugh. "You can call me Cass. The fake names are so bullshit."

"Cass?" It felt off having such an informal name for the nurse. "Well, it's nice to meet you... Properly, I mean."

"Yeah, you too. Thanks for, y'know, getting me out of there."

With all the sudden revelations she'd almost forgotten the mornings events. The metal door did a good job of insulating noise of the alarms ringing outside. "What happened back there? Why is she growing when it hadn't worked before?" Jennifer asked.

Cassandra sniffled, still trying to clear the makeup from her cheeks. "I've had a theory for a while now. Both you and Amber took a while to grow despite getting the same amount of G37 as everyone else. Both of you were injured, Amber's nose and your... everything. The serum did its job. It healed you first instead of making you bigger. As for how she's handling so much at once - " She nibbled her lip again. "I don't know."

"What are we going to do about her?"

"Huh? Us? Nothing. Wait it out. The sirens going, so they must know she's down here. The guards are probably bringing her down right now." She shrugged, glumly adding, "one thing I don't doubt is their blood lust."

Standing from the stall, the blonde walked over to the door, pressing an ear to the cold metal. Faintly, she could still hear the alarm. "Is there any way we can see what's going on outside?"

Cassandra gave a sheepish look. "Well... There is one way."


Morning role call woke Trish. The cells all opening in unison, steel against steel, created quite a sound. Bleary eyed, she attempted to get out of the bunk, longer limbs smacking against the steel frame. She'd forgotten she was so much bigger. It was jarring growing so much all at once. Hell, even overnight, she'd added a couple of extra inches to her already massive frame. Delicately, she had to extract herself from the bunk, pulling one leg free at a time.

Standing at her full, colossal height, she stretched, feeling her spine pop and lengthen. It felt fucking good. She looked to the bunk, then to the ceiling, trying to grasp how much larger she was than yesterday. What was she now, 7'9? Pulling on her overalls confirmed that she was indeed bigger. They were snug all over. Raised voices and the squeak of plimsolls pricked her ears up. Candice's plump, worried face came into view at the cell door. "Trish, you need to get out here."

Hurriedly, she yanked on her own custom sized plimsolls and stepped out of the cell. The sunlight should have been pouring in, bleaching the world. It wasn't. The storm was still going, the heavens still raining down. That wasn't the only thing wrong. The regular, regimented order of role call was a chaotic mess. The usual two lines of women were scattered.

"Look." Candice said, pointing. Trish did, peering along where the line should be and felt her heart skip a beat. Around Jennifer's cell was a group of women mixed in with guards, arguing. Jessica was in the gaggle of people and Trish realised she recognised the faces. They were all Niners.

She was about to make her way over when a moving piece of landscape in her peripheral vision caught her eye. "What did you do to Jennifer?" Snarled the chunk of mountain, storming towards her.

She was still a distance away, swelling larger and closer with each step. It took Trish's brain a hot second to reinterpret perspective and understand that she was just THAT big. Nothing like a 10 foot plus tall latina to make you feel tiny at 7'9... Jesus she was massive. The overalls that Smith had arranged for her, the ones that were supposed to be too baggy due to an 'error' had actually ended up being too small for Vásquez. Her defiance on a biological level still making itself known, once again overshooting their calculations.

Vásquez ignored the drama down the hall, fully focused on interrogating Trish, carving a path through the hall to her. Behind her was a wave of Lobos who, admittedly, looked scattered and confused by this call to arms. A wall of Nation members rose up strong, moving as one, zero hesitation, ready to go on defence against the Lobos. Two armies began amassing in response to one another, a negative feedback cycle which kept tensions building.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Trish shouted back, over the wall of people. She pushed her way through, subtly checking for Jessica, hoping her vanguard partner had seen what was going on. The dark haired hourglass hadn't, dealing with her own issues.

Vásquez's fury burned out, her purposeful stride halting as she looked Trish up and down. Sizing her up, seeing she was larger than she should be, Smith's accusation gained more traction. Trish had seen Vásquez angry plenty of times. What she saw now wasn't just anger. There was more to it. She watched her nostrils flaring, lips becoming a line, eyes narrowing, catching the light, glistening just slightly more than they should. There was no time to decode these signs however. "What did you say to her?! Did you fucking threaten her?!" The questions threw Trish through a loop.

"What?! Why the fuck would I threaten Jen?"

"You did something to get her dose." Seethed the giant.

"Her - " Jennifer's dose? What the fuck was going on? Glancing to the woman in question's cell, to where Jennifer should have been, she looked at the Niners. The guards were attempting to keep the peace there - an uphill battle for sure - but there was still no Jennifer. Trish wanted to break away from this all and go to see what was going on, but her and Vásquez had drawn their own crowd. K13, Lobos and nation were surrounding them, a blood thirsty hoard, watching and waiting. Nearly the entire prison watched, people even lining the gangways above to see what was happening. Two women stood in the centre, champions in the coliseum. Breaking through everyone would be difficult. Getting away from Vásquez would be impossible. There was only one outcome here.

"What did you do?!" Vásquez pressed, striding forwards again, pushing everyone metaphorically closer to the boiling point. Inmates braced, the groups closing together, spectators shuffling closer, circle tightening, muscles twitching.

"I didn't do shit!" Trish said, letting her emotions spew out of her. "Maybe she just wanted to give it to me and not a fucking monster. You think she fucking likes you? She's fucking scared of you!"

It wasn't just venting her hatred. She was doing this to whip Vásquez up into an unthinking rage. It had worked. Vásquez's walk morphed into a lightning fast lunge. Trish dodged a fist the size of an average head by a hair. Stepping in low she came up with an upper cut, catching Vásquez on the chin.

The giant stumbled back into the advancing Lobos, obsidian hair flicking up. Trish tried to push her advantage and follow up, but innate instincts kicked in. A second and third punch cut through the air, and a tree trunk rose up to kick the umber giantess back. Like a bowling ball through pins, Trish cut through bodies, knocking them all down. She did her best not to do any damage to those that cushioned her fall. Using the bars of a cell, Trish pulled herself up, getting back into a defensive stance. Vásquez spat blood, teeth shining a ghastly red, a smile breaking her previous expression. Trish knew then that this was going to suck. Bad.

Vásquez's second charge was less of a surprise for everyone and as she went for Trish, the pin dropped. Mayhem and carnage was unleashed across the hall.

Her mind cooled off, Vásquez was more measured, not swinging for the head viciously. A hook to the body was a multimeter from pounding Trish's liver into paste. Instead, it met an unfortunate nation member who was snuffed out like the flame on the end of a match. Her body ragdolled into the crowd, knocking more women down. The aggressor laughed at the inmates folded up, a pile of discarded deck chairs.

Red lights bathed the world, an all too familiar willing beginning as a fresh riot hit full swing. The gangs were at war, the gladiators coliseum turned into a field of clashing women. Bodies even cascaded from the sky, the melee extending to the steel gangways above.

Vásquez continued to hunt Trish, now wading through nation members, marshy, thigh deep water. They charged at her, but anyone who tried to stop her was crushed. Literally in some cases. The size disparity was just too large. A single swing, a single punch, could level a whole group of inmates. A stomp. A laugh. Another life robbed. She was enjoying this.

It turned Trish's stomach. She needed to get this psycho bitch away from the others. She needed to give her gang as much time as possible. She needed to fight strategically.

"Jen told me she fucking hates you!" She screamed over the noises and the fighting and the shouting. "A giant bitch that throws her weight around to get what she wants."

"Stop lying pendeja!" That focused the Latina's path, shrugging off attacks instead of retaliating to them. Trish was backing away. She needed somewhere less open. Somewhere where size couldn't be such an advantage. She was moving away, towards a set of corridors, praying Jessica would follow soon.


"What do you mean the alarm isn't for Amber?" Jennifer stressed, voice hoarse. Cassandra had hijacked her way into the CCTV feed with some digital magic.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuuuck." The researched muttered under her breath. "Those fucking idiots!" She pointed to the monitor where a grainy set of images showed the holding cells from various angles. "Look, they're too preoccupied with the fighting. They don't even know where Amber is!"

Jennifer leaned over the smaller woman, hands on her shoulders. Trying to make sense of the visual, she squinted. Orange wriggled and pulsed. She could make out Jessica and even Selina, two patches of red in the mess, but where were Trish and Vásquez? Black shapes began streaming in on one side. The guards. They didn't have time to watch this. "Can you switch cameras to the lab? Where the fuck is Amber?"

"Hang on." Cassandra opened up a UI that showed dozens of cameras. "I think they're on a different circuit, I can't get into those ones."

One of the squares went black. "Wait, what was that?" Leaning further forwards, unintentionally resting her breasts on Cassandra's neck and head, Jennifer pointed to the blacked out square.

"What?" She tried not to be distracted by the weight on her neck. "What?... Th-that was medbay." Cassandra said, suddenly feeling a cold run through her, more powerful than Jennifer's warmth on her back.

Both women watched, wide eyed, as cameras went dark one by one. The path was obvious. It was going from medbay straight to the holding cells. They were on the edge of their seats, hearts in their throats, waiting to see if it was who they expected.

Across the other screens they numbly registered the riot spreading like a cancer through the prison. Out of the holding cells, into the corridors and the library, the canteen and showers - inmates and guards locked in combat everywhere. Whoever was destroying cameras would encounter some of the rioters soon. A glimpse of movement in one of the empty shots made the two watchers jerk to the square. The aryans passed, all carrying weapons. One at the back of the pack, merrily skipping through the corridor, stopped. The woman with a shaved head turned, laughing. She held a hand up like a gun at the camera and pulled the trigger. Everything went out of focus for a second, something so huge passing by that it must have pressed against the camera. Then the feed died.

"How much G37 do you think she could have taken?" Jennifer asked, mouth very, very dry.

"I don't know. We've.... We've never done tests like that. She couldn't have..."

Another camera went black, this time a glimpse of pale skin.

"She... Fuck, what if she took it all?"

"No, there's no way. There's.... There's no way." Cassandra muttered to herself, voice brimming with fear. Another camera died.

Guards and inmates stopped fighting in one of the screens. Clicking on it, the feed enlarged. Horrified expressions became clear on every face. People stared running, charging back to the holding cells. The aryans sprinting into the crowd, howling and laughing, trying to catch stragglers.

"Go to the holding cell cameras." Jennifer said, worry bleeding into each word.

An alt tab and furious clicking brought up the view they'd had earlier. Tear gas blocked some of the vantage points, but they could clearly see the double doors that had inmates streaming back in. They were met with other rioters, unable to get far.

The doors crashed open, flying off of their hinges and Jennifer's stomach flipped. Those closest wobbled, stopping to look at the doorway. A deep perplexion probably set root, inmates not understanding what they were looking at. Flesh filled the entire doorway. Pale skin stretched tight over muscle. Finger thick red lines ran along them. Even her skin was struggling to keep up with her growth. What those inmates were looking at was a shoulder against the floor and portion of an expansive back. The wall bulged, tiles cracking and falling to shatter on the ground. More of the chaos stilled, people looking to the surreal events unfolding. Cracks aggressively spread around the door, up the walls. Titanic legs pushed against the structure itself, making concrete buckle. Jennifer and Cassandra held their breath. Everything receded back in, the lungs of a monster falling, collapsing.

Then the floor shook in the lab, lights blinking.

Static ate at the cameras for a moment before the picture cleared, lagging behind reality. Jennifer wished it hadn't. She'd wished she'd been able to stay ignorant. From various view points she watched a hulking, muscle rippled, purple veined giant explode not through the door but through the entire building itself. The grotesquely large body came through, turning those closest to the doorway into viscera and splatter, beneath bricks and cement and... A sadistic, laughing, giant. Those outside of the dead zone were hit by shrapnel, others pinned only partway by the debris and the giantess. Pained screams must have been echoing throughout the hall, louder than the sirens. The crowds receded like the tide, backing away from the leviathan. Amber was surely close to 20 foot tall, bloated into an impossibly curvy, muscled form.

It became clear now that she'd been crawling through the corridors - the only way she could fit through them - destroying the cameras with her sheer girth.

The monster rolled onto her side, a tit landsliding out and smothering one of the injured, wailing inmates under it. Amber must have noticed the struggling. She reared her head back, laughter like thunder, and rolled onto her front, pushing her chest into the ground, a reverse push up.

When she stood, peeling her massive mammary from the ground, she left only overalls and a stain on the ground. Dust and brick and gore fell from the rising behemoth. Amber cooed, smearing blood over her breasts, mashing them together. She pinched the blood soaked, fist sized nipple and shivered.

She was too big to be seen fully on most of the cameras. Only one camera at a lofty height saw her full glory. At her new, terrifyingly glorious height, she could look straight out of the high up windows, her head almost at the ceiling. No one passed her knees.

This sight, this vile, humungous bitch, caused one reaction. Panic. Inmates and guards alike scattered, running in any direction that carried them away from Amber.

Cassandra pushed backwards suddenly, bringing Jennifer's mind back into the lab. The larger woman stepped back, releasing Cassandra and giving her room.

She looked pale, sickly. But her jaw was clenched and a firey determination burned in her eyes. "What are you doing?" Jennifer asked as Cassandra began gathering materials, snatching up a notepad and scribbling something.

"Fixing this." She said darkly. "Every person she kills is my fault. I need to fix this. It's time to fight fire with fire."