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Milan moved - and to see a planet-sized giantess in motion was to see a walking apocalypse. She lifted her left foot, the remnants of Ruzzio raining from her sole, and she moved it forwards. Her muscles tensed and flowed under her skin like tectonic plates as she did so, the monolithic mass of her leg leaving a trail of heated steam as it traveled through the air - while her other foot sank even deeper into the ground, the world’s crust shattering and its mantle warping as it struggled to support her full weight. Her movements were as slow as molasses, as if time itself struggled to keep up with her great size - but it was soon clear that she was taking a step.
In front of her lay the continent of Heskar, already battered by her arrival. Milan looked down at it and smiled, letting her eyes wander over all its intricate detail, over all the wonders of humanity which would soon be erased. The shadow of her foot covered the land in darkness, and its inhabitants tethered on the brink of terrified insanity… and then, something very odd happened. There was acceptance. A pall of serenity fell upon the Heskarites. Death was coming, yes, but it was coming at the hands (well, the foot) of their beloved Goddess. Wasn’t her foot beautiful? Weren’t her toes cute? Weren’t they blessed to feel the velvety texture of her pedicured skin, to know the hills and valleys of her perfect, sacred footscape?
Wasn’t this a good fate?
As the shadow’s grew deeper and Milan’s foot came closer, the Heskarites accepted their fate. Few kept on running or panicking - there was no point to it. Instead, they waited. Some prayed to her, whether to thank her for the life they’d had or to beg her for a privileged place in the afterlife. Others simply enjoyed themselves, delighting their eyes on the beauty of her foot, of her calf, of the back of her thigh - and of the massive member which hung above. Some took one last chance to jerk off - stroking and fingering themselves desperately as her foot lowered, as it came to cover the entirety of the sky, as her shadow grew darker, as the pungent yet sweet smell of her sweat replaced their atmosphere, becoming all they could breathe… soon enough they heard a terrible roar of displaced air. The ground began to tremble, and everything seemed to turn upside-down. Terror bore upon the Heskarites again, but most remained stalwart despite their fear, facing their deaths with tears in their eyes and zeal in their hearts. The air grew warmer and warmer, the land turning into a stinking, sweltering jungle, and Heskar quaked in anticipation as her sole neared the peaks of the tallest mountains, the city lights shining on its velvety surface…
And then she let her foot rest upon the continent. She didn’t stomp, she didn’t even step forcefully - hers was a gentle, careful and loving step, for despite the death she brought she was still the tender Mother of humanity. Her foot fell upon Heskar, obliterating it alongside a few dozen island nations. 5 billion people were killed in the blink of an eye, their bodies liquifying alongside their cities, the entire landmass compressed under Milan’s mass, pushed deep into the earth, mixing with magma and ground-up world-crust into a diamond-hard substance.
The whole step had taken the Goddess an entire minute - such was the slowness of her movements - but it’d felt like an eternity to the humans. And it wasn’t over - now Heskar’s neighbors would feel it too. First came the sound, racing before the shockwave…
*BOOOMM*
It deafened, it shattered, it killed - and the worst was yet to come. Then came two successive waves: one of air, a voracious wall of force which carved the ground like a threshing blade, then one of rock and soil, burying and crushing everything in its path - for Milan’s weight had caused the very ground to ripple like a puddle; and finally there came the earthquakes. And they were truly dreadful! The ground didn’t just shake: it wobbled like pudding, tearing itself into fragments, leaving nothing in place. The wave of death spread outwards, killing a billion humans more - Milan giggled at the realization, wiggling her toes and causing yet another chain of earthquakes.
That had been one single step.
And then her weight settled, her muscles tensed, and she took another one.
*BOOOOMM*
The land of Goromeia was gone, crushed under her right foot.
*BOOOOMMM!*
So too was the southern side of Jiramar, as well as the Lornian archipelago - crushed under her left.
The world fell into terror and disarray - for not everyone was as philosophical when it came to their own deaths as the Heskarites had been. Milan had killed more than 16 billion people with just these three steps, leaving nothing of their proud civilizations, of their lore, their art, their memory - nothing but some smudges on her skin and a few magma-bottomed, mountain-ridged footprints. The Caravians knew she was coming towards them. They knew they were most likely about to die. Their proud Rainbow City with all its colors, all its history, all its wealth and beauty - it too would become nothing more than a stain on Milan’s divine soles. What could they do? What could anyone do but despair? And so they would’ve done… were it not for Alma.
“Have courage!” - yelled the priestess, magnifying her voice as much as her magical arts allowed it. “Don’t despair! We knew this day would come! Stand fast, my friends, and look upon our Goddess! She has come in all her beauty and power to carry us all to the most blessed of afterlives. She’s offered us the sight of her divine form, the touch of her divine flesh. She’s offered us the chance to inflame her heart and loins with passion… and you would reject her? You would act like cowardly rats in the face of true glory?” There was another, even more deafening crunch as Milan pulped the land of the Five Kingdoms under her right heel…
*BROOOOOMMM!!*
…and Alma, holding on for dear life, continued. “Behold the Great Mother!” - she screamed. “She loves us even as she kills us, for every death she causes is for her an iota of pleasure, a tiny fragment of delight! This is why she loves us! We are like dust to her, like germs, like atoms - and yet each and everyone of us is also her dearest child, her most cherished toy! Look upon her and smile, my friends, for this will truly be a glorious death! And as we await our ends, let us relish our Mother’s beauty, her grace, her majesty! Let us enjoy her to the last, for these will be the last and greatest moments of our lives!”
Alma’s words steeled the people's resolve. They were terrified, yes - but what was the point of fearing the end if there was absolutely nothing you could do about it?
Especially if the end came in the form of such lovely feet…
*BBROOOOOOMMM!!!*
As the Empire of Crystal was annihilated under Milan’s right sole, the Caravians slowly regained their courage and, following Alma’s lead, looked to their deity, feasting their eyes on her titanic body. The Goddess in motion was an even sexier sight than she’d been while standing still. She knew how to walk - with a flirty sway of her hips, one supple foot in front of the other, her breasts bouncing in rhythmic delight, her hard cock swaying, shaking and jumping in lust. Every step caused her tits, ass, belly and thighs to jiggle in the most delicious way, great waves of fat coursing under her skin and completely enrapturing those who watched. The shine of her eyes and the mischievous, vaguely sadistic turn of her smile made it clear she was enjoying this - and that she wanted everyone else to do so too… for as long as they lived.
*BBRROOOOOOOMMMM!!!*
Now it was the turn of Kariham and its 300 duchies, smushed like nothing under Milan’s left tread. How many steps separated her now from Caravia? How many minutes did they have left to worship her? It was harder to see her face now, her gigantic tits getting in the way, the perspective elongating her legs and squishing her upper body. But the closer she got, the more her divine beauty enthralled them. The closer death came, the more they fell in love with her. A good portion of Caravia’s population was by now masturbating in full view of their fellows, overwhelmed by desire. Now at last the fables were laid bare, now at last they came to know their Goddess as she truly was: both mother and monster, careless in her power, shameless in her lust, gorgeous and magnificent, selfish and hedonistic, and full of murderous, obsessive love for them. For humans! It was as Alma said: her every step was an act of love, as tender and devoted as that of a blushing maiden. She loved all the millions she killed, all the cities she destroyed, all the lands she crushed, and the beauty and knowledge she erased… she genuinely and whole-heartedly loved all of humanity.
Did she love Caravia too?
*BBRRROOOOOOOMMMMMMM!!!*
Harga of the Great Bridge was gone. So were the Silver Land of Leonor and the Islands of Alchemy, blown away by the shockwave… two steps remained, three at most. The Goddess now gazed down at the Pellian continent with that same smile, that same mixture of tenderness, smugness and callousness, that same look of total ownership. Pellias was the land from which Caravia had imported the magically-infused bronze needed to build their Colossus. Now the once-great statue tethered on the edge of collapse, struck time and time again by merciless earthquakes. When Milan took another lazy step with her left foot, exterminating Pellias, the force of its impact tore through Caravia…
*BBBRRRRROOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMM!!!!*
…and the Colossus finally toppled into the sea. “Good riddance” - Alma thought, her teeth chattering and her body hurting from the shock. She’d loved that statue as much as any other Caravian - but it was a child’s scribbling next to Milan’s true grandeur. How could they have been so vain as to believe they could possibly portray even a fraction of her beauty? The priestess laughed, looking up past the Great Mother’s towering toes, past her ankles, her muscular calves, her heavenly thighs… she looked at her womanhood, a symbol of the lust which drove her, as straight as a spear, as powerful as a sword, her glans glistening with precum, and, closing her eyes, she muttered a thank you to Milan and prepared for the end…
But the end did not come.
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