The handful of technicians occupying the shared space that was ORBITAL’s main workshop spared only a glance towards the source of the strange noise; A torn plugsuit sounded it’s final cries amongst the whirs and clanks of various ARSENALS receiving after-mission repairs and tune-ups. It seemed Abyss’s notorious ‘improvements’ had finally overcome even that of the bulletproof garments each pilot called their own.

The pilot in question seemed to spare not even an ounce of concern for this development, what one might consider the height of absurdity reduced to a common sight for those remaining in the combat group’s employ. The sullen undead’s pale expanse had burst free from it’s confines a scant few seconds after it became visible-the chest hatch of her mech swinging open to reveal the black and red polymer only moments from splitting away over her profound bulk.

Even contained, there had been little difference in the diameter of the blonde’s gargantuan gut; fat filled the immediate space of her arsenal’s cockpit regardless of her suit’s efforts-the material offering no hint of compression or reduction to her stomach’s size. It had been a subject of minor inquiry as to how she had even managed to enclose her form within a standard-issue uniform in any right, something that has for the moment gone unanswered.

Climbing down from her mech became a sluggish affair, not for lack of ability-rather that a careful mixture of balance and dexterous handholds was required to avoid being dragged into an awkward faceplant due to her uneven center of gravity. Somehow rotating her figure inside the cramped space of the cockpit allowed for the slow decent to begin-a journey, if only around ten meters or so, she embarked with delicate footfalls. Facing the metal frame, a healthy view was had by all still paying attention of something else that had seen a similar amount of bulking in the past month; while still secured within her suit, the undoubtably pale globes were pushing the limit of the rubbery material-strong competition for the width of her belly, Abyss’s butt was completely unreconcilable with her formerly lithe physique.

The gains hadn’t started until nearly a month ago; a new arrival, unremarkable to most, had gone missing after only a handful of sorties. Their record had been impeccable, but it wasn’t unheard of for even promising pilots to meet a sudden end inside the containment zone. What seemed a coincidence at the time was now more than obvious; Heaven had been of little help during the cursory investigation that always occurs after a pilot goes missing-spouting contradictory and often inane statements. Whether Abyss’s twin was purposefully obfuscating the matter was unclear-but it was likely to her own error, as the bubblier of the two blondes disappeared not long after.

The slight potbelly that had accompanied the pale ghoul in her teammate’s absence quickly blossomed into a larger and larger repository of fat that heralded the vanishing of a countless number of top pilots-Aces, even-from ORBITAL’s ranks. All of the major mercenary guilds had experienced losses, some even forced to close down entirely due to lack of members.

Panzer Crown was among the list of those that could not afford to remain in operation, completely devoid of pilots as of the conclusion of Abyss’s most recent sortie; the pilot finally disembarked from her mech, bobbing stomach jostling to and fro as her boots met with the concrete below-the contents of her stomach burbled away underneath countless layers of fat, the final member of Panzer Crown joining her compatriots amongst the ranks of dozens of ace pilots.

For her part, Abyss did not needlessly indulge in any form of cruel banter or sadistic tormenting of the imbibed woman-nevermind the fact that the princess had long-since turned to broth, and before that had stewed for hours within not only the confines of the zombie’s guts, but also the evermore constrictive interior of her devourer’s mech; Abyss hardly regarded the deposed pilot at all, merely rubbing over the curve of her stomach with a gentle pet as a droning belch worked it’s way free of her internals.

The guttural emission lasted several seconds, briefly coating her tongue in a sour taste that flittered annoyance through her otherwise bored expression. Her tongue danced across her lips for only a moment, fingers rolling through her plush fat as she stared into the middle distance; eventually, the grumbling that managed to penetrate the growing walls of fat that stood between her stomach and the outside world managed to convince Abyss to quit loitering in the repair bay, and refocus her mind on that of preparing for her next mission-IE, finding the last of her dear sisters and seeing if it would still be possible to fit her gut into a plugsuit afterward.

At that moment, FOUR registered Abyss’s return and subsequently removed Panzer Crown from the list of available consortiums for the various mission requests ORBITAL had received; each and every member of the deactivated mercenary group’s profiles replaced with the last known data of their location and status: if one were to view any of the greyed out folders, they would find each ID photo replaced with an image of pale flesh, a fatty three-tiered stomach the only memory of them beyond a single soundbite each-their vocal codes substituted for recordings of their final words, as translated by Abyss’s digestive system. The AI had come to understand that pairing any less than three additional pilots with Abyss tended to result in said pilot returning alone, and had modified her algorithm to automatically retire the profiles of the associated losses. She wondered if it would be faster to simply remove the pilots from the system before they leave-it seemed not even Abyss’s own family members had been safe on sorties with her.

It made the AI concerned that she would be unable to fulfill her primary purpose, Abyss seemed to be just as dangerous, if not more so, outside the cockpit as she was in it; several disappearances had been reported within ORBITAL’s main facility itself, and the AI had begun to designate certain expendable personnel as ‘FOOD’, rerouting them into paths more likely to encounter Abyss as to hopefully mitigate the loss of more valuable pilots during missions.

Unfortunately, this simply resulted in a noticeable delay regarding repair times-as technical personnel require considerably more time and training to prepare than most unseasoned pilots, FOUR recompiled her strategy and transferred the current designation to the remaining pilots amongst Abyss’s peers. Ultimately, the loss would be considered acceptable-and Abyss’s incomparable combat record more than makes up for her cannibalism.

Sound in this logic, FOUR shifted her attentions away from the ball of lard waddling her way out of the ready room and focused on the next mission briefing; for a few moments, the AI mulled over which pilot could be considered least necessary at the current moment-after a few nanoseconds, she compiled the sortie briefing, silently redesignating Rouge Cinderella and filing her profile for pending deletion.



Another set of my favourite mech pilot! I say favourite, because she’s my favourite in DxM-but also because she’s probably my favourite in general too. At least design-wise, anyway; most other pilots in mech games never get a face to go with their voices, so you’re really only getting the mech. In my mind that doesn’t count, so I separate games like Armored Core and such from games where you clearly and obviously know who these characters are apart from their robots. Also, she’s a pretty goth zombie with nihilistic murder-brain.

Done up by  Ecchipandaa, and excellently done at that~♥️ I’m probably gonna get more of her from them at a later point, so I should probably start writing a story now (you can probably tell which characters actually motivate me to get their story/descriptions done faster-why is it always blondes?)

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