Pupil 39: Underground With Some Clown Girls

It had been a rainy week. Zara felt lucky that she could at least reach the park before Mother Nature continued her assault.

The moment she got to the usual spot, the clouds above seemed to have a vendetta against her. They opened up and dumped a torrential downpour that almost soaked her from head to toe. Fortunately, the trees offered some shelter. Zara leaned against one, catching her breath and wiping the rainwater out of her eyes.

Barely a minute later, she noticed a hooded figure running from an alley. At first, she thought maybe one of those hooded weirdos came back to attack her, but no. This one seemed to be different. It looked a bit bigger than the hooded woman but much smaller than the bulky man with the axe.

The figure dashed through the last few meters and skidded to a halt beside Zara, almost running into the tree.

“Wow! I didn’t plan a second morning shower...,” she panted, “but at least it woke me up,” she finished the sentence with a chuckle.

“Hmm, maybe we should run to the HQ’s building,” Zara offered, pointing at the building.

“Nah, I’ll have to go soon. I’m just waiting for my mentor here.”

“Oh, so you’re waiting for Aritimi as well. I’m also waiting for her.”

“Ah! Sorry. I probably didn’t see you in the previous weeks,” the hooded girl said, pulling back her hood. “Rexine Lurtz,” she stuck her thick hand out.

“Zara Cromwell,” she shook the girl’s hand, trying not to stare at her too obviously.

Rexine looked quite unusual. It wasn’t her build. She was tall, but just slightly taller than average. Her frame was muscular. More buffed than Freya, but not as absurdly jacked as Olympia. What made her stand out was her green skin color. She looked somewhat like an Orc. Her red hair was short and messy, slightly boyish. As Zara took another glance at her, she even noticed the tip of a small fang peeking out from her lower lip.

“I see your augmentation is from an Orc,” Zara speculated.

“Um ... no, it’s not,” Rexine said awkwardly. “My augmentation is a bone implant from an Xyston Xana.”

“Oh, sorry. I just...”

“It’s the Dora syndrome,” Rexine cut her short.

“Ah! Okay...,” Zara nodded, but she wasn’t sure. Dora syndrome is known to affect the physical appearance of the augmented humans’ children, but she didn’t see someone who looked exactly like a monster because of it. Then they both ended up staying silent for a while.

“Good morning, pupils,” Aritimi appeared in front of them in the rain. She had a portal opened above her head as a makeshift umbrella.

Neither Zara nor Rexine needed a second invitation, and they took shelter beneath Aritimi’s portal.

The rain hadn’t let up, but Aritimi’s umbrella portal provided perfect coverage as she led the girls. The shimmering circle hovered above their heads, casting a soft purple glow against the grey downpour.

Zara walked beside Rexine, eyeing the swirling light above.

“Why aren’t we just jumping through a portal?”

“Because we’re waiting for someone. She’s nearby.”

They walked a bit farther along the path, past empty benches and puddle-filled playgrounds. Aritimi kept scanning the area.

Then, something made her pause.

A faint voice floated up from the curb.

“Timi...” it said, soft but clear over the rain.

“Did someone just call you?” Zara blinked and looked around.

Aritimi didn’t answer right away. She stepped toward the edge of the path and crouched near a storm drain. Peering into the grated opening, she stared down until a pale face suddenly popped into view.

A woman with clown makeup and a bright orange afro grinned up at her, eyes wide so does her smile.

“Oh Timi,” the woman cooed. “Don’t you want a balloon?”

“Coco, get out of there.” Aritimi rolled her eyes with practiced annoyance.

With a sharp giggle, the clown-woman slipped out through the narrow opening easily, as if her body had rubber skeleton or no skeleton at all. Somehow, impossibly, she folded and twisted her body with unnatural ease and popped out of the drain like a spring-loaded toy.

Her outfit wasn’t traditional clown garb. She wore tactical gear, but every piece of it had been painted in a patchwork of bright colors: green knee pads, bubblegum pink shoulder plates, and a vest dotted in polka dots. Holsters and pouches were strapped all over her gear, some shaped like toy blocks or rubber ducks.

She struck a pose, grinning as the girls stared.

“This is Coco Rivera.” Aritimi gestured toward her, “She’s the chief of the Underground Surveillance Unit.”

Rexine couldn’t stop herself.

“Why do you look like a clown?” she asked.

Coco’s grin didn’t falter. “Because I am one, mija,” she said in a thick Mexican accent, voice warm and musical. “Well, not by choice exactly. My augmentation is from a Goofy Gagster. This...” she pointed at her wild orange afro, “ ... is not a wig. That’s my real hair now. And this...” she tapped her pale white cheek, where a pink heart was naturally etched in the skin, “ ... is the natural color of my face. Can’t wash it off, I’ve tried.”

She twirled in place, showing off the rainbow of colors splashed across her armor.

“The clothes are just for style. Gotta match the theme, you know?” she giggled.

Zara exchanged a glance with Rexine, who gave a slow nod, still trying to process what she was seeing.

“Not as creepy as that doll lady from last week,” Rexine murmured.

“She’s a professional,” Aritimi said flatly. “Don’t let the look fool you.”

“Gracias, Timi.” Coco gave a theatrical bow. “Now, shall we go to work before I slip on my own banana peel?”

Aritimi raised a hand, and a new portal shimmered open before them.

As they stepped through, the sound of rain vanished, replaced by the low hum of subterranean life. They were in a local subway platform, old tiles cracked and stained with time, but surprisingly clean. Faint echoes of dripping water echoed through the tunnels.

Coco took the lead, hands tucked behind her back like a tour guide.

“So,” she began, voice cheerful, “the Underground Surveillance Unit, my babies, we were originally created to protect human settlements from the things that crawl up from below. Back then, it was simpler. Smash whatever comes out of the ground, keep people alive, repeat.”

Zara and Rexine followed close behind, listening.

“But now?” Coco shrugged. “Now, it’s trickier. Some monsters, we gotta fight. Some, we just scare off. Sometimes, a brawl would do more harm than good, like collapsing an entire tunnel, or worse. And not all underground monsters are problems. Some are actually helpful. Territorial freaks that don’t let other monsters pass through their turf. It’s like having a mean, slimy bouncer patrolling your walls.”

“You let monsters act as security?” Zara asked.

“Why not?” Coco grinned. “It’s free labor. Besides, some sewer creatures help clean the tunnels. Literally eat the gunk and sludge. That’s why I was down in the storm drain, checking on the population. It’s part monster census, part plumbing.”

“Just don’t forget about the metro.” Aritimi gave her a side glance.

“Ugh, the metro.” Zara tensed, visibly uncomfortable.

“What’s wrong with it?” Rexine asked, unfazed. “I know it sounds weird at first, but not bad once you get used to the weird feeling.”

Right on cue, the train arrived, or at least, what looked like one. The rail beneath them shuddered, and a long, segmented shape slithered into view. It had the basic form of a subway car, complete with windows and sliding doors, but its body moved with an organic pulse, like it was ... breathing.

The surface rippled slightly, glossy and smooth like a mollusk’s shell. A low chuffing sound came from within as the train slowed to a halt.

“Oh, good,” Coco said casually. “The Metro Mimic’s here.”

She walked up to the sliding door and turned to the others. “These beauties are monsters that roam the metro system in Crowsend. We struck a deal long ago. They keep the tunnels clear of threats, chase out anything nasty, and in exchange, we let them carry passengers.”

“I don’t know why you guys are trusting them,” Zara said, eyeing the creature suspiciously.

“It’s much safer than you think. You just need to bring some food as your ticket. Doesn’t even have to be fresh, some of ‘em like leftovers,” Coco replied. “And weirdly, they’re way cleaner than your average metro car. Self-cleaning digestion lining, no gum under the seats, no graffiti. They’re surprisingly polite as long as they’re fed.”

“Only a few big cities use them, though,” Aritimi added. “Public discomfort is ... understandable.”

The “door” slid open with a soft flesh-pop, revealing a glowing interior with cushioned seating and walls that pulsed gently with bioluminescence.

“I hate the squishy seats.” Zara sighed.

“I kind of like it. Feels like riding a giant hamster.” Rexine chuckled.

“That’s not better.” Zara groaned as they stepped aboard.

The inside of the Metro Mimic pulsed softly, the bioluminescent lights casting a faint pink glow over the cushioned, moist interior. It was strangely warm and oddly quiet.

Zara shifted in her seat, arms crossed.

“Why is it just us? No other passengers?”

“This one was sent just for us,” Coco answered with a grin, her boots resting casually on the edge of her seat. “Special request.”

“Right. Special,” Zara muttered, tapping her fingers on her knee.

Moments later, the creature let out a low, contented hum, and the squishy doors opened with a wet shhhlick. The group stepped out onto a platform Zara didn’t recognize. It wasn’t like the usual stations: no garbage on the floor, no flickering ads, no bored commuters. Just raw concrete, some utility lighting, and an old, sealed-off tunnel entrance.

“This isn’t on any metro line I know.” Zara blinked.

“It’s not a station,” Coco said, walking ahead with a bounce in her step. “It’s an outpost.”

“An outpost for what?” Zara looked around.

“Whatever we need it to be,” Coco replied vaguely as she checked behind a maintenance door, then peeked under a workbench. “We built a bunch of these in the early days of the underground patrols. Quiet, hidden, off the grid. This one’s just a little dusty.”

“What are you looking for?” Rexine asked.

“My daughters,” Coco answered.

Suddenly, a strange sound came from the tunnel, a tiny honking noise. Then a small clown car, barely the size of a bicycle, bounced into view, its wheels squeaking like a rubber duck as it hopped up onto the platform.

Then it came to a stop near the group. A voice from inside called out, “Sorry for being late!”

The door slammed open, and a woman in bright purple taffy-colored tactical gear wiggled out, unfolding herself like an accordion. Her giant purple afro practically exploded from the car’s interior, and her clown makeup shared the same unnatural skin tone as Coco’s.

“This is Lulu,” Coco said, gesturing proudly. “My eldest daughter, and right-hand.”

Lulu saluted with two fingers.

“The tunnels were slimier than usual.”

Before anyone could respond, another door on the car popped open and another clown-woman tumbled out. Then another. And another.

One by one, they emerged in a chaotic procession like a pastel-colored parade. Coco introduced each as they stepped beside Lulu.

The first was Bubbles. She had sky-blue pigtails and tiny star stickers under her eyes.

Pippa was the next one. She wore her lime-green hair in a bun, with oversized glasses perched on her nose.

Gigi had a wild mane of flamingo-pink curls, shaped like a cotton candy explosion.

Jinx’s hair was short and neon orange, spiked into devil horns.

Lala sported long teal dreadlocks and had a shy, sleepy expression.

Googles had bubblegum-pink hair styled like a side-ponytail, and actual googly eyes on her forehead.

Kiki had a mop of bright yellow curls and a patchwork tactical vest.

Oopsy wore a sideways beret over her white-and-red streaked bob.

Bongo had maroon ringlets tied in twin loops and drum tattoos on her arms.

Fizella had ultraviolet hair, slicked straight down, and a pair of oversized combat boots with wheels on the bottom.

Yoyo’s turquoise curls bounced with every step, and she kept a yoyo twirling on her finger.

Zuzu, the last girl, had black-and-white checkered hair, split down the middle like a chessboard.

They all wore brightly colored tactical gear styled to match their hair and clown features; less circus act, more chaotic SWAT team.

“How did all thirteen of you fit into that tiny thing?” Zara stared at them, dumbfounded.

Coco chuckled. “Same augmentation as mine. We have some shared powers. One of our gifts is full-body compression. Helps with tight spaces, infiltration, slapstick escapes ... and storm drains.”

“Etheldreda and her gothic lolita daughters still seem to be the weirdest people I’ve seen so far, but you guys are close.” Zara rubbed her temples.

Rexine, meanwhile, was wide-eyed.

“Thirteen daughters ... all augmented ... all clowns? Cool!”

“Hola!” Lulu waved. “We’re gonna be working together today!”

“Of course we are.” Zara thought.

“Alright ... so what exactly are we doing today?” Zara asked, staring at the now mostly empty platform.

“We’re going to check in on an underground monster population,” Aritimi answered.

“Specifically,” Coco added, adjusting the strap of her gear across her chest, “we’re headin’ to one o’ the local Metro Mimics’ dens.”

“That ... sounds extremely dangerous. I love it.” Rexine gulped, but Zara just grinned.

“Not if ya know what you’re doin’, chica.” Coco winked, then turned to her daughters. “Alright, mis payasitas, back in the car!”

Lulu gave a dramatic sigh and saluted again. “Sí, mamá.”

The sisters began piling into the clown car once more, squishing, contorting, and folding themselves in ways that made Zara’s stomach twist. In less than a minute, the car was once again packed tight with thirteen colorful limbs and puffy hairdos, sealed up like a fleshy jack-in-the-box.

Coco turned toward Zara, Rexine, and Aritimi, gesturing for them to follow.

“C’mon, hop in. There’s space fer all o’ ya.”

“In there? With them?” Rexine blinked.

Aritimi wasn’t bothered.

Zara took a cautious step forward, peering into the small car’s impossibly deep interior.

“How ... is this even real?”

“Augmentation power, mija,” Coco said with a chuckle. “The inside’s affected by me an’ my niñas’ ability. Ain’t no physics down here that we don’t twist.”

“Is this safe?” Rexine asked.

Coco placed a hand over her chest. “I give you my word, no funny business. No honkin’ noses or confetti bombs ... unless ya want one.”

Zara sighed and squeezed inside. It was much more bigger than it had any right to be, like stepping into a cozy, candy-colored bunker. A row of soft seats lined the walls, and the clown girls had already made room, grinning as they scooted aside. One offered her a juice box.

Aritimi and Rexine followed after a moment of hesitation, both surprised by the surreal comfort.

Once the door shut behind them, Coco settled into the front seat and started the engine. The little car hummed like a happy insect.

“Wait,” Zara asked, “why can’t we just take a portal there like we usually do?”

Coco didn’t take her eyes off the tunnel ahead as she drove. “We tried that before. Almost lost someone’s legs ‘cause the portal opened half in a wall.” She gave a shrug. “Ain’t no safe landmarks down there. It’s all teeth, tunnels, an’ belly tunnels. You don’t wanna cut through a Mimic on accident, trust me.”

“Okay ... but then why not ride the Metro Mimic all the way there?” Rexine added.

“Ah, I wish we could, mi amor,” Coco said with a laugh. “But the Metro Mimics had been trained not to leave the subway lines as long as they got passengers. Protocol.”

“So this is the safest way?” Zara sighed, leaning back into the plush, confetti-patterned seat.

“As safe as it gets,” Coco said cheerfully as the tiny clown car zipped into the dark tunnel, headlights flickering. “An’ also the most fun!”

Coco drove the clown car into a narrow, dimly lit tunnel that clearly wasn’t part of the regular metro network. No rails lined the ground, just a bumpy path carved into old concrete and roots.

She stopped the car just short of a vast, yawning opening.

“Alright, chicas,” she said, turning in her seat. “This is where we hop out. Can’t drive this beaut into the den or they’ll think we’re deliverin’ snacks.”

From deeper within, strange groaning and clicking echoed; slow, rhythmic, almost like giant lungs filling and deflating.

They climbed out, stretching a bit after the compressed ride. But before they could follow Coco further, Aritimi raised a hand to halt them.

“Wait. These two aren’t properly outfitted,” she said, eyeing Zara and Rexine’s casual clothes. “We’re stepping into monster territory. I won’t have them going in like that.”

“Oh, but I packed no special gear with me,” Rexine scratched her head.

“No need for special gear,” Aritimi shrugged, peeling off her jumpsuit. Without hesitation, she threw her only article of clothing into a portal as if it were a piece of garbage.

With her fit body, gravity-defying breasts, and brown skin, Aritimi looked more like an African tribe’s sex goddess rather than a monster hunter.

“Whoa!” Rexine gasped, but Zara also heard some of the clown girls gasping too.

“Now you two, pupils,” Aritimi said, looking at the duo.

“What...? We have to be nude as well?”

“Oh! No worries. I got this.” Coco snapped her fingers with a grin. “Let ol’ Coco work her magic.”

With a pop and a puff of glittery smoke, Zara and Rexine’s clothes changed instantly. Zara blinked down at herself. Her pants had been replaced with oversized bloomers in rainbow stripes. Her top had a comically huge ruffled collar and one red suspender. A painted-on smiley face adorned her stomach, and her boots squeaked when she shifted.

Rexine’s outfit wasn’t much better. She now wore high-waisted polka-dot trousers, a button-up with too-long sleeves, and a little propeller hat that spun lazily despite the lack of wind.

Zara glanced at the clown car’s direction and saw their clothes on the seats, neatly folded for them for later.

“Oh no...” Zara muttered. “Is this real?”

“Very real,” Coco chuckled. “Mi poder can only conjure goofy gear. Funny bones only, you know? But don’t underestimate ‘em. These outfits are tough, stretchy, fireproof, Mimic-slime-resistant, and got pockets for days. Plus, you look adorable, mijas.”

“I guess if it works...” Rexine inspected her new sleeves with a sigh.

“Trust me, you’ll thank me later,” Coco said, already heading into the dark with her brightly colored tactical vest glowing faintly. “Now c’mon. Let’s go say hola to the Metro Mimics.”

“Hmm...” Aritimi examined their new clothes, “Well, since these clothes were made by Coco’s powers, I can count them as something natural. Just like those golden shoes in Bambi’s case.” Then she followed Coco.

Zara and Rexine exchanged a final look, half reluctant, half amused, and followed Coco and Aritimi into the dark.

“Okay, I like Coco more than most of Aritimi’s other friends,” Zara snickered, but deep down, she felt a little bit disappointed. The new clothes felt weird on her. She wanted to feel the soil beneath her feet, the air around her skin, but then she quickly chased away the thoughts.

The den was massive, far larger than Zara expected. It wasn’t a cave but more of an underground building, layered with winding tunnels, steep ridges, and large, echoing chambers. All around them, Metro Mimics rolled across the uneven ground with ease, their strange segmented wheels undeterred by the lack of rails. Some zipped along the high ledges, while others launched themselves effortlessly from one carved-out hole to another like giant mechanical frogs.

“They’re ... training?” Rexine watched in awe.

Coco nodded, striding confidently across a bridge of concrete ribs as a Metro Mimic zipped under it with a low whrrr. “Sí. They simulate obstacles here. Learn how to deal with derailments, tight curves, unexpected gaps, anything they might run into while carryin’ passengers topside.”

One of the Mimics zipped past them with a low mechanical chuff.

“But they can shapeshift, right? All of them? Why are they still in train shape?” Zara asked, looking at the vehicle-shaped monsters.

“Because they like it!” Coco replied, laughing as she gestured toward a group of smaller Mimics clustered around a larger one. “Stayin’ in character, you could say. Helps teach the babies what they’re supposed to grow into. Like dressin’ up for a family reunion, no?”

“You’re quite smart for a clown,” Rexine raised a brow with a smile.

“Exactamente.” Coco grinned proudly.

“Why aren’t they attacking us?” Zara scanned the moving crowd.

“They won’t,” Coco said. “These fellas are used to humans. We’ve raised most of ‘em ourselves. Long as we ain’t hostile, they see no reason to lash out. And even if we were, we’re like gnats to ‘em. Like when you see a couple bugs on your porch, you don’t bring out a flamethrower.”

But before anyone could move further, Zara suddenly stiffened. Her head snapped toward the far edge of the den.

“Wait ... something’s over there,” Zara whispered, ducking quickly behind a jagged outcrop of stone. “Hide!”

The others followed her lead without hesitation, crouching low behind the rock wall.

“What did you see, chica?” Coco asked quietly.

Zara didn’t take her eyes off the distant figure.

“It was a man,” she said. “I got a good look at him before he moved out of the light. It was Steve.”

“Same Steve? From the PRA?” Aritimi glanced at her.

“Yeah.” Zara nodded.

“Who’s this Steve fella?” Coco tilted her head.

Zara took a breath and explained, just like she did to Odina and Pixie weeks ago. “Steve’s a PRA member. He is not a bad guy, but we had to keep our incognito intact in front of him, so we pretended to be monster girls.”

“Should we avoid him, then?” Rexine asked.

Before Zara could answer, a voice echoed across the den.

“Hey! Someone there?” It was unmistakably Steve’s voice, “I can see ya! You ain’t a train!”

Zara’s eyes darted to Aritimi, who immediately said, “We’re not getting out of this one. We pretend. Monster girls, same as last time. Maybe it will be fun.”

“Alright, back to Bug Queen mode,” Zara clenched her fists and let the change wash over her. Her limbs elongated slightly, her skin taking on its faint exoskeletal shimmer, and her eyes turned gleaming red and insectile. Her colorful clothes disappeared with a poof as if they were just an illusion.

“I think I don’t have to do anything with my appearance,” Rexine said. Indeed, she didn’t need to change. Her pale green skin already gave her an unnatural, otherworldly look. She just rolled her shoulders like she was getting into character.

“Well, good news is, me ‘n the girls already look the part. Goofy Gagsters always had a strong circus chic, no?” Coco chuckled.

Behind her, the clown daughters adjusted their outfits, patted down colorful skirts, and straightened their oversized ties. A few nervously smiled.

Aritimi inhaled and focused. Her eyes started to glow with a deep, unnatural violet light, intense and steady, casting eerie reflections on the rock.

Zara nodded to the others. “Let me go first.”

“Wait,” Aritimi stopped her, “We are monster girls right now, and monster girls don’t wear clothes in a natural place like that.”

“What?” Rexie asked.

“You all have to get naked to be a believable monster girl.”

“Oh, come on,” Rexine groaned.

“Hey, nobody said that this is an easy job,” Aritimi smirked.

Coco snapped her fingers and with a colorful spoof, Rexine’s clothes disappeared, leaving her naked.

Rexine’s body was as muscular as Zara expected. Her green skin stretched taut over her lean muscles. Her breasts were big, firm, and high, the nipples and areolae a darker shade of green, standing proudly in the cool cavern air. Her stomach was a perfectly shaped six-pack. Her glutes, sculpted like a Greek statue, curved smoothly into long, powerful legs. Her pubic mound was shaved clean.

“Ugh ... this one’s going to be a long day,” Rexine sighed.

Then, Coco snapped her fingers again, this time both her and her daughters’ clown costumes disappeared.

Coco, despite her age, had the figure of a woman who knew how to take care of herself. Her breasts were huge and heavy with a motherly grace. They were a rich brown, like the trunk of a mahogany tree, with large dark areolas. Her stomach showed the evidence of both childbirth and hard work, a soft, pillowy landscape of stretch marks and resilience. Her pubic hair was just as orange as the hair on her head.

Lulu looked even better, her big brown breasts were still firm, her erect nipples pointing forward. Her pubic hair was a small triangle of purple. The rest of the clown girls looked mostly similar to her. The white color of their facial skin made their skin tone look even darker in contrast.

Although the clown girls had slight differences, all 14 of them had one certain thing in common, their ass. They all had a beautiful, round, bouncy ass that a normal human could only get with a BBL surgery.

“Okay, girls, stay in character. Be kind to Steve and play along,” Aritimi instructed.

“Who’s there?” they heard Steve approaching.

Zara stepped out into the open and raised a hand in greeting, calling out, “Hey! Long time no see, Steve!”

The middle-aged black man squinted, walking a little closer, his hand resting casually on the grip of something that looked like a weapon at his hip. “Zaza, huh? Didn’t think I’d find you here.”

“I didn’t expect you either.” Zara nodded.

He looked past her as the others emerged one by one.

“Hey, I remember you too,” he said to Aritimi, his eyes glued to her naked breasts. “You were with her last time. You’re Timi the Riftwalker.”

Aritimi gave a slow, regal nod.

“Whoa! I see you got even more friends this time,” he looked at the green girl and the clown women.

“These are ... some of my people. This is Rex.”

“Nice to meet ya,” he shook Rexine’s strong hand, watching her breasts bob with the move, “Hmm, I can’t decide ... are you a small Orc or a big Goblin?”

“Um ... yeah, I’m a small Orc,” she said, she didn’t seem like somebody who tells a lie.

Then the clown girls shuffled forward in a colorful, awkward clump. Coco gave a small wave, followed by Lulu. A few murmured greetings, Bongo tripped a little and Yoyo helped her back up. The names came in a shy little chorus from Lulu to Zuzu.

“Oh my ... that’s a lot of clowns.” Steve blinked.

Coco stepped up with a wide grin. “Whole dang circus, honey.”

“You the mom?” He looked at her, brow furrowed.

“Thirteen strong,” Coco beamed. “My little miracles.”

“Damn, you’re a professional breeding machine,” Steve laughed.

“Gracias,” Coco said, but as she gestured, one of her hands accidentally bumped into her left breast. A honking noise could be heard.

“What the...? This sound came form your tits?” Steve gasped.

“Side effect of my powers,” Coco chuckled awkwardly. Steve reached out and gave it an experimental squeeze. The honk grew louder. Coco and her daughters giggled awkwardly. Unfortunately, Steve took this as an encouragement and honked again, a nd then he moved on to Lulu’s breasts, causing a similar bit slightly different sound. He honked the breasts of each clown girl and each had a bit different tone.

“Incredible,” he murmured as he squeezed Zuzu’s breasts. The clown girl just giggled awkwardly.

“So. What brings you all down here?” Steve asked.

Zara stepped forward, hands on her hips, her bug-like antennae twitching slightly as she spoke. “We’re just here looking for rare minerals. Never know what you might find. What about you? What’s a human doing all the way down here, surrounded by Metro Mimics?”

Steve scratched the back of his neck, then reached around to unclip his backpack. “Actually, that’s what I came to fix. Found somethin’ that belongs here. Figured I oughta return it before I could get in trouble.”

“Whatchu talkin’ about, chico?” Coco stepped closer, her breasts jiggling.

Steve crouched and pulled something out of his bag. It was large, the size of an ostrich egg, but rougher, slightly lumpy. Its shell was a pale gray, veined with fine markings, resembling tiny etched rail lines.

Coco’s expression shifted in an instant. “Ay ... That’s a Metro Mimic egg.”

Aritimi’s glowing eyes narrowed. “Where did you get that?”

Steve stood back up, holding the egg delicately in both hands. “Some guy owed me money. Real shady type. Didn’t have cash, so he gave me this thing instead. Said it’s worth all the money he owes me, but I should sell it quickly.”