The next week in the Russo-Ukrainian Border
Colonel Alexei Witkowski's Residence – Year 2055
Time: 0650 Hours
Location: Village of Bilokurakyne, Luhansk Oblast

Fire filled her vision, fire, the smell of burning flesh, popping white innards and utter carnage.

Panic filled Kim Kyung-Ja Witkowski. Utterly helpless before the task at hand, she could never—

"'Sigh' Kim, you don't want to have the stove on high to cook everything y'know." With a chuckle Alexei Witkowski reached past her, over the burnt black bacon and scorched eggs, turning the knob to shut off the fire. Kim for her part pouted and glared at him not that he cared, smiling back at the North Korean.

"Why don't you wake up the kids, and I'll handle breakfast." Kim maintained her stern poutful glare for several more seconds...

Then he moved in and pecked the former North Korean spy on the lips. His hands reaching, settling on her full hips, what could he say.

He'd always been attracted to asians even if at the worst of times those were only physically... Twenty years could change a lot of things. Pulling her towards him she paused, feeling his hardness against her abdomen. His bottoms straining against his throbbing morning wood.

She looked down to it half in confusion and surprise...

"Still..." He shrugged, true, they'd indulged till way past midnight but he'd slept well and had a excess of stamina reinvigorate himself. Alexei had been one of the most active soldiers only. All that energy didn't just disappear...

"If our men had even half your virility..." Her hand reached, palming his aching crotch over his shorts. Grass green eyes looked up to meet his gaze. One that he returned in full, reaching down, pulling her sleeping robes apart slightly exposing her generous cleavage. The mountainous orbs only sagging the littlest amount thanks to having 15 kids.

"Honestly, do you need to stare every time..." He chuckled.

"What can I say, guys like breast and yours are the biggest man breasts I've ever seen." Kim scoffed. "Your cow demi-human aid's are just as comparable... and she's never even had children." There was a small grumble in that, but one he ignored.

"Like I'd ever eye fuck my assistant, she would kill me if I looked at her like a piece of fuck meat. And so would her boyfriend in the Marines."

"But it's okay to do so with me?" Her brow raised as she waited for him to answer, unfortunately for the medium length ravenette he had a retort as he loomed over her, using his height to his full advantage.

"I wasn't the one who started this." He reached over cupping one of her breast, squeezing the plump E-cup meaty orbs.

🍋

"You're the one who came unto me after I was interrogated, and I just didn't say no." It was true, what kinda man said no to a willing knockout like her walking in their room naked? His free hand reached behind her head, fingers combing up her locks before curling, gripping her ebony hair and tugging it down, forcing her head to look up and meet his stern eyes and confident grin.

Back in then, he could've never dreamt he'd be in this position, hell by his junior officer days. He would've been disgusted by the thought given the kinda person Kim was... keyword being was, not is at least anymore. Leaning in he kissed and nibbled on her neck, earning a faint moan from her. Pinching and tugging on her erect nipple he smiled, daring to tease her...

"But it's okay when I do it? Me? The Ukrainian that saved a North Korean?" She swallowed as he gave her hair another tug, as he pushed up against her, their groins grinding, his cock throbbing through his bottoms against her now exposed sex...

"You know damn well your no coward Al—"

"Kim." Kim bit her lip seeming to look around, to make sure none of the kids were watching before she complied.

"D-Daddy..." Kim's eyes averted as her cheeks flushed the smallest bit. He pushed forward forcing his lips against hers, pushing himself harder against her. Breaking the kiss he growled.

"Spread em'." The woman tensed at being ordered but after a moment she leaned back on the counter sitting up it before complying, spreading her thick thighs to reveal her needy wet sex, her pussy exposed due to the lack of underwear. A neatly trimmed black patch of hair revealing a soaking mound still gapping from their actions the night before with still leftover cum streaks.

He didn't bother putting up an act or teasing her, not when the ever-present threat of one of the kids waking up was on the line. Tugging his sleeping shorts down he revealed a lively hard and arched curve of 6in cock. One the former soldier had become intimately familiar with over the last night.

He angled himself just right, lining up with her, before looking to Kim the woman tensing up, biting her lip. He appreciated that, after all waking the kids up via her moaning certainly wasn't ideal. But there were funner ways to muffle their moans. Grabbing her face and forcing the woman into a deep hungry make out like they were teens was one such method.

It was real effective to seeing as when he suddenly forced his girthy head into her. Said woman shook but only let out a muffled moan that was quickly cut out when he begun sucking on her tongue. Reluctantly, he stopped gripping tit to instead reach around her back and pull her up to him.

The counter creaking as he got into a rhythm, his knee banging the wooden cabinet door every time he forced himself forward. It was hardly the best sex they'd had, but the risk of doing it out of their room, in the kitchen, during early morning. Oh there was no beating it.

He broke the kiss then, Kim forcing her hands over her mouth to stop her moans, her leaning backwards, her back arching slightly, giving him a good view of her jiggling breasts, the massive mammaries bouncing back and forth with every thrust. Tears forming in the corner of Kim's eyes. He could read her like a nearly climaxing book...

Her body tensing up, her teeth gritting before finally her eyes rolled up in the back of her head and she went somewhat loose. Oh man, Kim was an easy woman to please, or more accurately hadn't had a good dicking since Alexei's last deployment two months ago.

For several seconds they stayed like that before he pulled out, gripping his cock, stroking it, the hard member throbbing in his grasp, almost ready for release. Kim stared at it, then her features knitted as she realized he still hadn't gotten off. It wasn't guilt for getting her own nut that showed in Kim's features but annoyance at him theoretically outlasting her that seemed to egg on her next move as she moved off the countertop and lowered to her knees right before him.

With narrowed brows she grabbed her breasts, pressing them together, revealing her ample cleavage in full before she sandwiched his cock between them. Her large pillowy tits engulfing his throbbing mass as she shot him a look that said 'Stand there and watch' How Kim Kyung-Ja could look somewhat imposing even on her knees was a mystery to him.

Then her mouth opened and she took his swelling tip between her luscious lips, Alexei could honestly say he'd never imagine he'd be in this position. And yet here he was, watching as his wife gave him a titjob. Feeling his climax build up. His features tensing he released his shot and Kim paused for a second, glancing up at him. Clearly surprised by her sudden meal.

Her eyes narrowed in that oh so familiar way of 'Next time warn me or else' But her actions said quite the opposite as she parted from his cock with a wet pop before looking up at him and opening her mouth to show the deluge of cum in her maws before closing her lips and suddenly and loudly swallowing.

"Make my breakfast extra sweet, I need to counter this bitterness..." He chuckled as Kim stood up, fixing herself before she turned away. He couldn't help it! Her ass was right there!

'SMACK!'

The woman froze up from his hard slap of her ass, trembling a bit as her expression went dopey before she turned to glare at him but ultimately made her way to the girl's room.

It made him nearly laugh at her reaction. But here she was, nervously stepping up towards Mordecai Witkowski's room, looking like she was about to face a Cross Army Apostle instead of simply waking her 10 year old son...

Though in a way that would be the easier option.

Kim had always shied away from interpersonal issues like her own family before she was married someone her former country called an enemy. But now, slow as it was to show, Kim was adjusting to being around actual sane, nice, and honest people. At first it was under government threat, but slowly they stopped needing to bring it up, now they never had to.

They didn't know the exact reason what'd spurred her to truly change, North Korea's stubbornness, seeing her brother and uncles graves... Or maybe, hopefully, it was freedom. In a way it was everything, and yet what truly mattered was that she was here. Choosing to be here at this point and she wasn't alone either.

"Sweet, Bacon." Reaching into the pan, ignoring its sizzle was their twin twelve year sons Euginiusz and Janusz Witkowski, the latter grabbing a slice of pork he quickly opened up and bit down on the bacon...

Specifically, Kim's burnt black piece. Alexei smiled as her features contorted and she begun to cough.

"'Cough!' How'd you—!? 'Cough!'" With the shittiest of eating grins Alexei flicked the boy's head, making the him yelp at the aurically amplified flick to the forehead.

"You need to pay attention more, gotta be less predictable..." Grabbing the biggest, meatiest slice that he knew Euginiusz was aiming for he tossed it to the floor where the family dragon was all too eager to grab it.

"What the—!? Why'd you give it to the Wojtek!?" He grinned.

"Cause Wojtek's a good boy who doesn't try to steal bacon, right boy?" The small dragon's only response was a cheerful roar, that earned him a spoon of scrambled eggs.

"So your feeding the dragon before us now." Asked his oldest twenty year old daughter Hana Witkowski as she entered with the rest.

Nina Witkowski (Female, 20)

Ji-hye Witkowski (Female, 20)

Ha-rin Witkowski (Female, 19)

Min-ji Witkowski (Female, 18)

Eun-kyung Witkowski (Female, 18)

Iseul Witkowski (Female, 17)

Ezran Witkowski (Male, 16)

Henryk Witkowski (Male, 16)

Seong Witkowski (Male, 16)

Pawel Witkowski (Male, 15)

Jozef Witkowski (Male, 15)

Hana, Nina, and Ji-hye are ranked Second Lieutenant, Sergeant, and Corporal in the Ukrainian Army respectively.

While Ha-rin, Min-ji, and Eun-kyung are all Staff Sergeants.

"Wojtek is a member of this household," Alexei declared as the bronze-scaled drake happily snapped up the scrambled egg he flung like a hand grenade. "He earns his bacon by not being a little shit at 7 in the morning."

"Then maybe Wojtek should do your damn supply reports too," Nina, ever the smartass NCO, shot back, sauntering in with a towel slung around her neck.

"I'd love that," muttered Alexei. "At least then I wouldn't be missing half my logistics manifests thanks to my lieutenant trio running around playing Army Barbie."

Hana threw up a salute with a mocking grin. "Sir yes sir, requesting permission to skip PT and jump straight to brunch, sir!"

"Deny that shit in stereo," Alexei grunted, reaching to flip more bacon with Wojtek's tail, which he was using as a spatula. The dragon's tail flicked like a gleeful dog's as it helped. "You're still on my shitlist for leaving your M4 on the fucking range two days ago."

"Old habits die hard," Hana said sweetly. "Also, I saw you using Ji-hye's toothbrush last night—"

"Blame the twins. Again."

Meanwhile, Kim Kyung-Ja stood frozen outside Mordecai's door. Her hand hovered just inches from the knob, sweating as if it were a claymore detonator. The mere idea of waking their youngest son felt more dangerous than breaking into NATO command during her spy years.

Behind her, the sounds of sizzling pork, bickering lieutenants, and Alexei's grumbling blended together in the hum of an absurd but beautiful life.

She finally knocked.

"Mordecai... sweetheart? Time to get up..."

The silence that followed was ominous.

Then came the slow creak of a chair inside. The boy's voice, clear and calm, carried through the wood.

"...Mother. It's 0659. The sun's angle is only 12 degrees over the horizon. I'm not expected to engage with others until 0705."

Kim twitched. "Wha—? Mordecai, honey, we talked about this—"

"I have already pre-scheduled my hygiene, breakfast, and reading time. Deviating from this risks temporal imbalance."

He was ten.

Alexei's voice echoed from the kitchen. "Tell him if he doesn't get his butt out here in two minutes, I'm letting Wojtek in his room with a live chicken and a GoPro."

"...Compensating with chaos. Understood," Mordecai muttered through the door. Click. Unlock. He emerged, bleary-eyed, hair an absolute nightmare—but holding his daily logbook with three bookmarks already placed.

By now the table was full. All fifteen children were seated, passing food, slapping hands away, or arguing over tactical deployments of butter. Kim returned, finally managing a sigh of relief as she sat beside Alexei. He immediately passed her the least-burnt bacon. She blinked at it.

"...You actually saved me a good piece?"

"I'm not suicidal," he replied simply.

Wojtek snorted, clearly pleased.

Then the holo-projector in the kitchen wall pinged. Ukrainian Border Command Seal appeared.

Alexei grimaced. "Of course. Just once I'd like breakfast without a fucking ping."

He stood, tossing a towel over his shoulder. "All of you. Eat up. PT starts at 0800, and Hana—you're running drills with the Staff Sergeants."

"Roger that," said Ha-rin through a mouthful of toast.

As Alexei stepped out toward the adjacent office, Kim leaned back in her chair, both hands resting on her swollen belly. She smiled softly as she watched her children—human and demi-human alike—squabble and laugh around the breakfast table. Burnt bacon, family dragons, military discipline, and forbidden spy-to-soldier romance. Somehow, it all worked.

She looked to the ceiling and muttered to herself in Korean. "What a weird, wonderful world this has become..."

And somewhere behind her, Mordecai updated his logbook:

"0703 HRS. Emotional energy in the room: stable. Maternal warmth detected. Wojtek is a glutton. Must study dragon metabolism."

Meanwhile at the Zarathustra Sea, near Mu Continent of the Kitsune Empire
July 4th, 2055

UNV Sahaidachny

Ukrainian Navy Nuclear Ballistic Submarine

General Specifications:

Type: Nuclear-powered strategic submarine (SSBN)
Length: ~170 meters
Beam: ~13 meters
Displacement: ~24,000 tons submerged
Propulsion: 1× Westinghouse-Motorsich pressurized-water nuclear reactor, pump-jet propulsion
Speed: 25+ knots submerged
Test Depth: ~500 meters
Crew: ~130–140 personnel

Armament:

IRBM Capability:
12 × Vertical Launch System (VLS) silos for Intermediate-Range Ballistic Missiles (IRBMs)
Compatible with Ukraine's "Hrim-3N" missile
MIRV (Multiple Independently-targetable Reentry Vehicle) or conventional payload options

Torpedo Tubes:
8 × 533mm forward-facing torpedo tubes
6 frontal inline
2 angled outward (similar to Los Angeles-class for wide arc engagements)
Capable of firing heavyweight torpedoes, cruise missiles (like a Neptune-variant), or underwater drones

Defense & Stealth

Hull Coating: Anechoic tiles for sonar dampening
Acoustic Signature: Ultra-low, using active noise-cancellation tech

Countermeasures:

Decoy launchers (Moss-style mobile acoustic decoys)
Towed array sonar and flank array
Hard-kill interceptors for incoming torpedoes

Sensors and Systems

Combat System: "Trident-UKR" integrated fire control system

Sonar Suite:

Bow spherical sonar
Flank arrays
Towed array
Mine detection sonar

ESM/ECM:

Advanced radar warning receiver
Passive electronic intelligence (ELINT) suite

Navigation:

Inertial + celestial + satellite nav hybrid system

Redundant gyrocompasses and doppler sonars

Special Features

Dry Deck Shelter: For special forces (Navy SEAL-type ops)

Command & Control:

Secure satellite uplink
Quantum-encrypted comms

Pressure Hull Design:

Double-hulled, shock-resistant
Auxiliary Craft: 2 × Autonomous Underwater Vehicles (AUVs) in bow hangar
Escape Pods: 2 x emergency escape capsules integrated

The UNS Sahaidachny moved silently below the surface at a comfortable 5 knots, her passive sonar listening in on nearby vessels. In the CIC, the morning shift reviewing the readouts and waiting for the dive team to contact them. A few chairs over sat Lieutenant Junior Grade Killian Kravchuk, Artem's son, his ears covered by a pair of headphones on both his human and cat ears. Naturally, his genetics had given him a very good pair of ears, making it easy for him to understand what was making a certain sound, even if it was just a small whisper somewhere nearby.

"Officer on deck!" Said the assistant sonar officer next to him, and Killian turned. The Executive Officer of the Sahaidachny entered, looking around. Killian turned back towards the sonar screen, switching it back towards nearby contacts. "Sonar contact bearing 1-5-1, fishing vessel christened 14. Another contact, a medium merchant vessel sailing at flank speed by the sound of it." He made a few notes in a pad next to him, his brows furrowing as he picked up another sound. "Hang on, prop on audio, verifying." He instinctively put his hand up to his headphone, listening to the sound of the prop far away. "Dry cavitation, like a galloping horse." He made a few more notes, and looked back at the screen. "104 RPM, counting blades." He grabbed a stopwatch from his pocket, counting the time between each prop beat. "Seven blades, it's not Russian, Chinese, or American."

Finally, he had his answer. "It's an ex-South Korean frigate, the ROKS Ansan to be precise. It was captured by someone we still haven't identified a few years back and hasn't been found, until now, I guess."

The second mate frowned, nodding his head. "The Ansan's a hell of a toy for a museum piece. Rapid, well armed, and one hell of a sonar."

The XO nodded, crossing his arms. "Alright, our first priority is to avoid detection by the frigate. Assume Quiet State One. Slippers and flash gear on, I don't want a single peep out of anyone unless it has something to do with our unwelcome guests." He received multiple "Yes sir"s, and the CIC sprang into action. "Torpedo room, conn, clear tubes 3 and 4. Flood tubes to recover swimmers, locking inboard."

"This is Delta, copy." Killian was meanwhile listening to the sonar contact again, his ears twitching. "XO, acoustics favorable. We should slip through undetected. Maybe just, erm, ask Kiwi to quit vacuuming Delta section. It's making a hell of a racket on sonar."

The XO smirked, grabbing the radio mouthpiece off of the wall. "Delta, kill the vacuum, it's bothering our Golden Ear."

Delta responded seconds later, and the XO turned his head back towards Killian. "Anything else?"

Killian nodded, "Well yeah, the galley, same as always." He leaned forward, and switched the radio contact to the galley's end. The loudspeaker's noise filled the room, making a few men chuckle. Someone in the galley was watching porn, again, probably Vellek.

"Shit, guys, porn flicks for breakfast?" The assistant navigator said further down the line, laughing.

The XO couldn't help but chuckle himself, as he walked down the row of seats. "Can't argue with mother nature. At least the hull's not vibrating."

Meanwhile, the UKRMARSOF (Ukrainian Marine Corps Special Operations Forces) operators on the surface were shaking their heads, as they couldn't get a response back due to the radio interference from the nearby stolen ship. Back on board the Sahaidachny, Killian was focused on listening for ships. He picked up a low, shifting sound over the headphones that appeared on the sonar in front of him. "I have something." He said as he listened closer. "Four blades, that's quite odd... I don't know of any ship that has four blades." His eyes widened as he finally realized what it was. A few days prior to the end of the war with the Demon Army, an experimental submarine went missing off the coast of Botswana. It was a joint project that both the Americans and Ukrainians contributed to, but unfortunately, despite looking for six years since 2034, the sub was never found.

"Poss-sub, bearing 1-6-7. Oh my god... it's the Kyiv!" He said just as another droning noise raised in pitch. It topped out, and pinged like a wolf's howl. Active sonar. Someone was painting them with active sonar, and it was probably the Ansan. "The wolf's call..." he whispered to himself as the entire submarine went silent, their motions frozen as if paralyzed. Then, a high pitched pinging noise blared through the ship's Klaxon-type loudspeakers.

Alarms blared in sharp BRRRT BRRRT BRRRT tones as klaxons echoed throughout the dark, pressurized heart of Ukraine's most advanced undersea predator. The peaceful hum of passive sonar, the low banter of tired sailors, and the background pings of fishing trawlers were replaced by pure chaos.

"FISH IN THE WATER! FISH IN THE WATER! BEARINGS 3-0-0 AND 3-3-0!"

The overhead red lights bathed every face in a blood-like glow. Maps were snatched, sonar overlays swapped out, and every idle soul was now a part of the organized bedlam that defined submarine warfare at the brink of death.

XO Denys Melnichuk had already taken the command chair. His voice was sharp, concise, cut from years of icy Black Sea deployments. "All hands, brace for impact! Conn, execute Escape Plan Sable-2. Dive to 480 meters—ballast dump in ten seconds!"

"Aye! Diving planes ten degrees down! Flood negative! Opening trim tanks!"
"Trim zeroed—descending! Depth now 220 meters and falling!"

Torpedo Room – Port Hullside

"Tubing interceptors now! Tubes 1 and 2 cleared and green!"
"Launch countermeasures! Deploy MOSS-5 mobile decoys at staggered pulse!"

With a CHUNK-THOOM, two acoustic decoy pods shot from their angled launchers, each mimicking the Sahaidachny's sound signature. Like electronic sirens, they darted through the depths, screeching a false heartbeat meant to lure the torpedoes away.

CIC – Sonar Suite

Killian clenched his jaw, one gloved hand pressed tight over the headphones, the other flipping switches like a madman on meth.

"First torpedo is tracking the left MOSS... hold... HOLD..."
A moment passed—then the first ping-trail on the sonar swerved off course.

"It bought it! First fish diverted!"

But the second one...

"Shit—Second fish is smart! Ping-pulse irregular. It's switched to active mode, tracking through the decoy fog!"

His tail twitched violently. He yanked his mic down.

"Second fish approaching fast, straight for us! 500 meters!"

"Hard starboard! Flare nose up fifteen degrees!" the XO barked. "Prepare for knuckling!"

"Aye! Hard starboard—fifteen up!"
Engines surged to max. The Sahaidachny bucked in the depths, carving a massive wake and forming a cavitation knuckle—a turbulent water distortion to obscure the hull from torpedo sensors.

Killian's POV – Internal Monologue

"Come on... come on you dumb piece of heat-seeking metal... pick the swirl... not us..."

The sonar track... curved.

A second passed. Two. Three.

And then—
BOOM
Somewhere behind them—500 meters out. A dull, rippling thunder that shook the steel bones of the sub like the belly of an angry god.

CIC

"Sonar confirms both fish detonated! No impact! I say again, NO IMPACT!"
"Damage control—report status across decks!" the XO shouted.

"All bulkheads sealed! No flooding, sir!"
"Reactors nominal! No radiation spikes!"
"Only Vellek peed his pants, sir!" someone shouted from sonar.

The entire CIC erupted in relieved, nervous laughter.

"Tell Vellek he owes me a dry mop and some fucking decorum," XO Melnichuk groaned. "Alright, gentlemen. Let's earn our keep—find me that goddamn submarine and tell those UKRMARSOF bastards we're still alive."

Bridge – Periscope Depth

A few minutes later, Killian leaned over the data tablet. The acoustic signature that nearly killed them—the strange four-bladed propulsion—was still there, slipping between thermoclines like a ghost.

"The Kyiv..." he whispered again. "She's shadowing the Ansan..."

"Why would they fire on us then?!" one of the junior sonar techs asked.

Killian scowled. "They didn't. Kyiv did."

The room went silent again.

The XO slowly turned. "...You're saying our own lost sub tried to smoke us?"

Killian's voice lowered. "I don't think it's ours anymore, sir."

Meanwhile – Surface Waters, 7.8km from Contact Point
UKRMARSOF Dive Team – Extraction Zone Zulu-Five

"Son of a bitch!" growled Senior Diver Sashko Hrom, trying to fix the uplink on their SATCOM. "Fucking sonar ghosts! Sahaidachny's out of contact—either they dove for Jesus or something's jamming us hard."

His teammate pointed northeast, toward a faint silhouette on the horizon. "That's not the frigate..."

"No. That's bigger. Sleeker. Look at that tail fin—it's the Kyiv, man. That's her hull line. I saw it in Sevastopol's dry dock in '33."

The team went quiet.
Because the Kyiv was more than a sub. She was experimental, housing a prototype AI-enhanced sonar network, voice-activated drone deployment, and even rumored soul-mimicking control systems—systems that were never greenlit because of ethical concerns.

Systems that... if somehow awakened...

Back aboard Sahaidachny – Combat Systems Recalibrating

Killian looked down at the blinking console on his side panel.

"Unknown Protocol Detected."

"Ghost Ping Acknowledged."

"Command Override: TYRANT MODE – ENGAGED."

His pupils narrowed.

"...XO?"

"Yes, K?"

"Sir. Something is in the Kyiv's systems. And it's not friendly."