“Thank you for agreeing to these tests today, Ms. Aran.” A slightly nervous-looking scientist said as he led Samus through the halls of a Federation research vessel. Not a particularly tall man, he looked puny next to Samus in her bulky power suit, although he wouldn’t have been any better off if she had come undressed, so to speak. “We’re sure you’re fine, but after the events of your last mission, we just want to make sure there aren’t any, uh, lingering side-effects or unexpected contamination…”

“If it’s what it takes to keep the Federation happy.” Samus said somewhat cynically, her aloof attitude not helping the seemingly anxious scientist, who kept conspicuously looking back at her. She hadn’t exactly been in the Federation’s good books ever since the B.S.L. incident, which had taken a lot of effort to smooth over. After hearing about how she had defeated Raven Beak, it was starting to feel like her very existence had the Federation jumpy at what she might do if she turned against them. As such, she had to participate in what she considered rituals to calm them down, lest they make her life a pain later. This test was one such ritual, after she had already confirmed herself that there were no lingering anomalies that might come back to bite her later.

“A lot of security for a check-up don’t you think?” Samus observed cooly as she stepped into the test chamber; a room with a variety of important-looking machines hanging from the walls and a lot of guns hanging from the arms of security guards with stiff backs. She counted four of them in the room alone, which was at least a dozen too few to pose even a slight threat to her.

“You know how the Federation is after the X outbreak. Just indulge us on this one!” The scientist hurried to say before scurrying away to the control room.

“Let’s get this over with.” Samus rolled her eyes. Too late to pull out now, she supposed. The wording of what exactly these tests would be had been vague to begin with, but what was the worst that could happen?

“Please stand in the centre of the room, Ms. Aran.” The scientist called. “This should only take a moment. Beginning scanning pulse…”

Samus loosened her shoulders and obediently positioned herself in front of the scanners. Unfortunately for Samus, by the time she noticed that one of the devices being pointed at her was rather suspiciously shaped, it was too late. An energy ray was fired without warning, striking her in the chest and immediately coursing around her body, briefly causing her to tingle from head to toe. She instantly felt strange in a way she couldn’t describe, enough to make her head light, and her feet unsteady.

The ray was feeble at best, with no stopping power whatsoever. Were it not for her suit flashing a warning, she might not even have noticed it during a fight. If she had been even more inexperienced with Federation testing, she might have completely dismissed it as just some odd scanning ray. However, this puny blast would quickly have a greater effect on her than the main cannon of a Space Pirate raiding vessel.

Within seconds, Samus’ suit began flashing a dozen alerts, too many for Samus to process in her dazed state. Her eyes flickered around, two in particular managing to sink in.

Warning: User incompatibility detected.

Warning: DNA signature not detected.

By the time she finished reading those, all of the alerts vanished, along with her visor itself. She heard a familiar hum as her suit powered down, the high-tech Chozo metal fading as the entire suit dematerialised. Before she even had time to fully realise what was going on, she was in nothing more than her skin-tight zero suit, her ponytail brushing against her shoulders. It was a rare sight that most would have relished, a towering amazoness with powerful muscle definition pressed against her shiny suit, not to mention hips that a swimsuit model would have been jealous of topped off by heaving breasts almost as big as her head, only made to look less obscenely huge by how bulky the rest of her was. As proud as Samus was of her body, it was supposed to be up to her to choose when and where to show it off.

“W-what’s happening in there, Samus?” The scientist called in a slightly unconvincing tone of voice. But even without that, Samus’s eyes were flickering around the room. Samus was stunned, but she wasn’t the top bounty hunter in the galaxy for nothing. In her line of work she had no time for panic or confusion, only her next plan of attack, and there was nothing Samus liked less in a moment of crisis than to do nothing.

The biggest thing that struck her was that for all the people surrounding her, none of the security guards looked surprised. Her armour had vanished before their eyes, something they shouldn’t even know was how it worked, and they had barely even twitched? Even an idiot would know that was suspicious. All but one of them were making a token attempt at surprise, but they weren’t doing a very good job of it. They seemed to notice that Samus was watching them a little too late and hurried to say something.

“What was that?” One laid it on too thick and monotone, looking wildly around the room.

“It just vanished!” Another said an obviously rehearsed line. “Is it supposed to do that?”

“Samus is a girl?”

The fourth however was fingering his trigger, already raising his rifle in preparation for something.

Naturally, Samus didn’t wait for that something. Within seconds of his suit vanishing, Samus sprung into action. The guard who had been fastest on the draw found himself tackled by a six-foot-three amazoness, Samus still the tallest in the room even without her suit and with more muscle than the rest of them combined. Her weight and momentum alone was enough to slam him into the wall before Samus grabbed him and threw him like a ragdoll into another guard, knocking the two down and sending their guns sliding out of reach. Her greatest weapon might have been disabled, but Samus’ rock-hard abs and bulging biceps were deadly weapons all their own.

“G-g-get her! Now!” The panicky scientist shouted, all pretences dropped. “Don’t let her leave the station!”

Samus was already gone, sprinting out of the room and down the shiny steel hallway faster than any guard could hope to react. She turned a corner before they could fire at her, her mind racing a mile a minute. The whole thing had stunk from the start, but in her overconfidence that she couldn’t be touched by them and her impatience to win back the Federation’s favour, she had blundered right into an obvious trap. She couldn’t believe she was this stupid! And now they had successfully used some sort of weapon designed specifically to take her down, somehow bypassing the security of her suit and disabling it. The messages she had managed to read were worrying. Was she locked out entirely, the suit’s ID scrambled? She willed her suit to materialise around her as it always did, and found it extremely uncomfortable that it completely failed to react.

Samus had always seen her power suit as a very extension of herself, a shell she could put on or take off as needed, and suddenly felt very vulnerable without it. Thankfully, she was still a walking mountain of muscle, and that was before you got to her superhuman strength granted to her by her cocktail of Chozo and Metroid DNA. She’d just have to escape the old fashioned way, and then worry about things once she was back on her ship. Although her suit had vanished, there was only one way for it to go: back to the maintenance bay on her cruiser. If she could get there, she could figure everything out later.

Unfortunately, she had been very deliberately led into the deepest part of the station, where what felt like miles of samey sterile corridors separated her from freedom. She could already hear alarms going off as she barreled down the halls, passing the occasional scientist or security guard who hadn’t been prepared for Samus to zoom past his post. Her chiselled thighs gave her unmatched bursts of speed, and she easily avoided the stray guards she passed.

Within a minute or two, Samus already encountered her first roadblock: a squad of three security guards blocking the next door, forcing her to draw her backup weapon strapped to her thigh: her paralyser pistol. Intended for emergencies, it lacked the firepower Samus usually preferred, but was small enough to fit inside her suit and keeping things non-lethal was for the best. She deftly leapt into the air, firing at all three in quick succession and avoiding the burst-fire two managed to squeeze off at where she had been a moment earlier, the paralyser practically recoilless in her iron grip and allowing her to make the accurate shots required to leave the three a convulsing mess. She soared over their heads, the three falling and hitting the ground a moment after she landed. It wasn’t the best jump, she noted, having only barely cleared them when she normally would have had to worry about bumping her head on the roof more than her feet clipping them, but she paid no mind to her less than perfect form.

Samus sprinted further and further, but even as she outran any attempts to lock her down, she felt as if she was being led around a labyrinth, locked doors forcing her to make detours that made her entire trip significantly longer. Although she hated to admit it, she was feeling off her game at the worst possible time. The rooms seemed to be getting bigger, despite being seemingly identical. She was starting to run out of breath unusually quickly after only a few minutes of running, when she should have been able to go for an hour before starting to feel short of breath, and when she turned her head, she saw guards she thought she had left in the dust slowly but steadily starting to gain on her.

Feeling like a rat in a maze, Samus ground her aching legs to a halt to close a door behind her, spying an opportunity to block off the path with some crates. She blasted the terminal in the hopes that it would slow them down long enough to obstruct the path itself. To her dismay, her quick-thinking plan ended up consuming far more time than if she’d just shut the door and ran. The chest-high metal crates full of something or other proved remarkably difficult to push, Samus going red in the face just trying to shove them over to the door. She had lifted these exact standardised crates before with ease in rescue missions to Federation vessels, why was it so hard when she needed it to be quick and easy the most! Boxes like these should have been filled with test tubes and office supplies, but it felt they were full to the brim with lead weights! She had to scuttle her plan to stack them, nearly straining her back when she tried to lift one and could barely get one corner an inch off the floor.

Standing back from her half-assed compromise of a roadblock, Samus noted that the crates were significantly larger than when she’d seen them entering the facility on the way to the test chamber. Perhaps her mental map was wrong? She had no more time to contemplate the matter, as the door was already starting to be forced open. Her one hope was that the chest-high boxes would at least balance out the time she’d wasted on it.

Samus set off once again, but her physical woes were getting even worse. She found herself even more worn out than when she had stopped, and she could tell that no matter how hard she pumped her legs, she was covering less ground. Sweat was pouring down her forehead, and not just from the adrenaline. Her legs were burning, and even her arms were starting to feel tired from pushing herself. Whatever that beam had done to her suit must have had the side effect of doing a number on her… Maybe some kind of sedative designed to wear her out? If nothing else, she was feeling lighter on her feet, particularly around the chest…

Samus turned yet another corner, grinding to a halt on her aching legs and gasping for breath as she stared at an unexpected sight: a strangely tall scientist who gawked back at her, his glasses nearly falling off his face. Samus had seen a few during the first minute or two of her escape, but they had quickly dwindled as they evacuated to stay out of the way of a very angry Samus Aran barrelling down the hallways. By the look of it this one had been slow on the draw, frozen like a deer in the headlights with his ID still in one hand. Samus’ eyes scanned the room, noting that if the scientist had left when he was supposed to, she would have run into a dead end and had to consider an alternate route.

Without hesitation, Samus dashed up to the stammering man, stepped around his back, and put him in a chokehold, arms wrapped tight around him. Up close, she was impressed at how large the man was, almost a head taller than her and significantly broader. Still, even if he was big, she had the advantage in strength and technique even before you got to her superhuman strength granted to her by her Chozo DNA.

“Alright,” She said, her voice dripping with her usual confidence as she tightened her grip. “You’re going to walk me over to that door and unlock it for me, and nobody gets hu-”

What followed next happened so quickly that Samus wasn’t quite sure what had went on before she found herself on the ground, slammed so hard onto her back the breath was nearly driven out of her. With a panicked cry the man had managed to break free and lift her off her feet entirely, throwing her to the floor in an inelegant manoeuvre that, by all of Samus’ reasoning, shouldn’t have worked. Somehow, this random scientist had completely overpowered one of the strongest fighters in the galaxy, and Samus laid on the ground in total shock: dazed for a few seconds, as she processed what just happened.

The shock seemed to drive her out of the fight-or-flight mode she had been operating under until now, where nearly her entire brain was devoted to her next step in her escape plan. Her decreasing physical abilities were unusual, but only observed as far as they were making things harder for her, and the source of exactly why could be figured out later. Well, “later” had come knocking, and Samus finally found herself staring down at her own body, her eyes widening in disbelief at what she saw.

When she had hit the ground Her first thought was to absolve herself of blame. It made more sense that the scientist was just unusually strong. Now she saw that he wasn’t strong, or tall, or burly. She had just gotten weaker!

The body Samus looked at wasn’t one that belonged to a powerful amazoness. There was no chiselled six pack, no watermelon-crushing thighs, no power-lifting arms. Her long legs didn’t reach nearly half as far, and her abs seemed smooth and soft to the touch. Her arms were slender, dainty even, less than half their usual thickness. Her thighs were almost plump, a roundness where there was once powerful muscle definition. She looked more like a model than a bodybuilder, and her feminine arms looked like they’d struggle to lift a bag of books, let alone the heaviest weights in a gym. It was a totally unfamiliar body, as if she had woken up as another woman wearing a Samus Aran costume.

Samus’ mouth was hanging open helplessly, but her stupor was broken by the scientist who had also been in a state of shock starting to move, mumbling to himself as he tried to head for the door. Despite everything Samus was still Samus, and executed a backup-plan: she simply drew her pistol and shot the man in the back, who slumped to the ground in an undignified twitching heap. Samus winced, the pistol kicking like a mule in her flimsy new arms and feeling unusually weighty when she stored it back in its leg-holster. She groaned and pushed herself to unsteady feet, knowing that there was little time to waste. She grunted as she flipped the scientist over and took his ID, hoping that the door didn’t need any biometrics, as she was suddenly worried she’d struggle to lift him to any scanner. She saw her murky silhouette on the reflective metal, trying to estimate her height, and no matter how generously she interpreted it, she couldn't have been more than five feet tall, give or take an inch. To say that being reduced to such a below-average size was mortifying would be putting it lightly.

To her relief the door beeped and opened, Samus hanging the ID’s lanyard around her neck for later. The card brushed against her chest, making her look down and become acutely aware that it wasn’t just her height and her muscles that had shrunk, but her breasts too. Samus could see her feet for the first time since puberty, and for some reason this stung in particular after brushing it off as the least of her worries a few seconds earlier. Something about that specific part of her vanity being bruised made it stand out in particular. Samus hadn’t just enjoyed being bigger than other women, she also enjoyed being bigger than other women. She stopped for a moment to palm her breasts, figuring they were at least still proportionately pretty big for her height, and swiftly became mortified when her hands were suddenly pressed against nothing but air, her breasts visibly shrinking before her eyes and away from her hands. Samus looked past them at the floor, which was slowly but steadily getting closer, and grit her teeth. Whatever happened, she’d just have to worry about it once she was out of here.

Samus started to lose track of her mental map, blindly running down the halls hoping to remember it by gut instinct as her thoughts were consumed by her diminishing body. What kind of biological weapon had the Federation created that could turn a powerful woman into a dainty waif in a matter of minutes? No wonder her suit wasn’t responding, whatever they had done had clearly scrambled her DNA, rewritten her body and sent it on a downward trajectory. Just how it was altering her this quickly was another question, but all that mattered was that it was, and it wasn’t stopping soon. Every step brought her a little lower, and consumed what little remained of her stamina. It was a testament to her zero suit’s technology that it shrunk with her, remaining skin-tight no matter how tiny she got. Samus couldn’t imagine a more humiliating situation, to go from an Amazonian powerhouse to a below-average damsel.

It was her loss of strength in particular that worried her. Even if she lost most of her muscle mass, Samus should have been far stronger than a human woman even if she’d never lifted a dumbbell in her life. Had they specifically included something to dampen her strength? Not to mention her Metroid side surely should have counted for something… There were too many questions and not enough time.

Eventually, inevitably, feeling like her legs were about to give out under her, Samus hit a dead end. Another ID-locked door blocked her path, and her card was rejected when she tried to use it. She threw the card to the ever-close ground in frustration, having to stand on her tip-toes to reach the face-level ID scanner. She tried to calm down, she’d just have to go back and find another path, and go a little faster to make up for it… but her legs merely wobbled at the thought. Samus was gasping for breath, her face flushed red and half doubled over. Was this what real exhaustion felt like? She felt like she couldn’t do anything without falling over and resting for a few precious minutes.

She was already out of time. A lone security guard was closing in on her ahead of his allies, but she could feel the thumping footsteps behind him. To her credit Samus reacted quickly, reaching for her pistol which she could barely raise one-handed, and wobbled in her hand. Perhaps it was her pathetic state, clearly exhausted and under five feet tall, that caused the guard to hesitate rather than fire on her, brandishing his rifle and issuing a warning first.



“Surrender now, or-”

The paralyser pistol flew out of Samus’ hands as she fired, miraculously hitting him square in the chest and buying Samus a precious few seconds to think as she retrieved her firearm. Her hands stung and she strained her neck looking around the room for something, any escape route. Her lips curled into a determined smile when she spotted a vent in the top corner of the room a few metres above the ground, a classic way out for her. Samus stepped back and took a running jump, leaping high into the air and easily up to the air… or not. In reality, Samus hopped a couple of feet off the ground and then stumbled when she landed, staring dumbly at the wall for a few seconds.

Feeling deeply embarrassed, Samus drew her pistol and blasted open another vent: this time on the ground, having no opportunity to get her gun back when she lost it again before she wriggled into the significantly smaller vent opening. Her hips nearly got stuck, all the guards got was a good look at her ass cramming itself through a hole that she could never have fit through in her old body. You worked with what you had, she reassured herself as she squeezed through something her more adult-sized pursuers couldn’t.

Crawling through the vent meant that Samus was at the mercy of wherever she emerged, but it gave her somewhat of a respite to regain her energy. She came out somewhere else in the facility: hopefully closer to her ship. Getting on her feet, she found the room around her bigger than ever. Unfortunately for the mouse that had just crawled out of her hole, she was trapped. The room she was in had both doors closed and no other vents for her to burrow through. The sweat beads dripping from her forehead weren’t just from exertion, and Samus’ heart felt like it was beating out of her chest as she tried to formulate some sort of backup plan. Perhaps if she could overpower one of the guards when they came to capture her… But with what muscle? She’d lost her gun, she was smaller than ever, and…

“There you are.”

While Samus was still mentally panicking, one of the doors opened, a female voice announcing its presence. Samus’ mouth fell open in despair at what she was seeing walk through the door: a familiar orange suit of power armour with an arm cannon pointed directly at her. Samus backed up slowly until she hit the other door, looking around desperately for an escape. Back through the vent, maybe? They might have already left the other side. Was there another one in the room? Who was in her suit? How’d they get it?

“You’re even tinier than I thought you’d be! How adorable!” The new owner of her suit laughed heartily, a deep smugness in her voice that was already irritating Samus. “Looks like I won’t be needing this.”

The suit dematerialised, revealing… herself? Samus’ eyes narrowed as what appeared to be an identical copy of herself sauntered down the hallway: complete with zero suit and ponytail. Her original self, that is, Samus had to bitterly remind herself. She was unarmed at least… not that it mattered.

“A clone?” Samus guessed correctly.

“Bingo! A perfect one too, right down to your memories. From the last time we collected your genetic sample, of course.” The clone smiled. “Officially I’m called SA-2, but soon you’ll be able to just call me Samus.”

“Let me guess. The corrupt part of the Federation got scared of having me around, but didn’t want to give me up either.” Samus could see the logic. “And you’re the solution. Brainwashed to high heaven, I assume.”

“Brainwashing sounds so barbaric.” The clone sighed. “I just have the right loyalties where it counts. I’ll be doing all the same missions, and the Federation can breathe easy. But enough about me! Let’s talk about you, you cutie. You are looking positively helpless right now! Maybe useless would be a better word? I don’t think you’ll be hunting any bounties any time soon, sweetie.”

SA-2 had been walking up to her this time, the same smug grin on her face as she cornered Samus. Samus felt like she was a mountain bearing down on her, oppressively huge. Samus instinctively circled around her, the clone allowing her a little distance as a show of confidence. She said she was a perfect clone, but Samus was fairly sure she wasn’t this much of a smug bitch. She knew that clones never had the same personality as their original, and tended to have inferiority complexes over not being the original, which was probably why SA-2 was revelling in this situation: Samus a fraction of her former self.

“You look like you like the sound of your own voice. Care to bring me up to speed?” Samus decided the best she could do was passive-aggressively stall for time. She backed away slowly, realising that SA-2 was so close she couldn’t see her face past her enormous breasts. Had she really been that big this whole time? Samus glanced down at her own, feeling extremely jealous right now. She coped by telling her that it was probably a good thing, if she had those they’d probably pin her to the ground.

“Just for you.” SA-2 winked. “Originally, the Federation was planning on getting rid of you wholesale, but some kind-hearted individuals argued that you should be neutralised as peacefully as possible. Lucky you! But even without a suit, you’re enough to make the Federation antsy. So, they came up with a way to get rid of that pesky Chozo and Metroid DNA! Congratulations Sammy, you’re a normal human now!”



“W-what? Is that even possible?” Samus looked down at herself, who had finally stopped shrinking.

“Sure is!” SA-2 grinned. “All this shrinking you’ve been going through is your body resetting to neutral, so to say. Turns out you’d be pretty short without that Chozo DNA! Although, you’re what, four feet tall? Maybe a little less? The boys in the lab watching you were pretty surprised too, they figured you’d be no less than five, and they thought you’d keep most of the muscle too. They think it might be your body overcompensating… You can ask them later.”

Samus continued circling, gritting her teeth as SA-2 suddenly rematerialised her armour, aiming her arm cannon directly at her.

“So what now? I come quietly?” Samus asked. To give up now looked like a life in captivity, or worse. She glanced over at the vent. She knew that SA-2 knew she wanted it, but was banking on her overconfidence being her downfall. But then what? She’d just come collect her on the other side… still, she had no choice but to go for it.

“Ideally. But I still have one more present for you.” SA-2 said, her arm-cannon whirring up, and Samus didn’t intend to stick around and receive it.

Samus dived for the vent, only to feel herself struck from behind by another low-yield energy blast. She continued sliding in, only to yelp as she got stuck in a rather embarrassing place: her ass seemed to jam on the vent, firmly stuck until she was yanked out by the leg by SA-2 and tossed across the room, crying out in pain as she landed painfully, struggling to her feet.

“If only you’d been a good little girl and surrendered when you lost your suit. They got pretty spooked and asked me to come collect you.” SA-2 chided her. “I wouldn’t have had to do this to you to make sure you really are neutralised!”

Samus instinctively reached for her tender ass, certain her butt wasn’t that big, but what she laid her hands on was much bigger and softer than she remembered. She was beginning to feel a pressure on her skin from the neck down, like her flesh was trying to push outward and escape it. Her heart leapt for a moment. Was she getting bigger again? This unwanted glimmer of hope would soon be replaced with an embarrassing reality: she was getting bigger alright, but not in the way she wanted.

Her clone began to laugh as Samus watched her arms start to thicken, her belly push outward, as her smooth abs turned flabby. Her stubby thighs started to rub together, even as she broadened her stance as folds of flab began to hang over her waist. Her hips expanded outwards, building mass by the second. The tightness spread to her neck as her face fattened too, Samus horrified as she held up an arm and watched her bicep begin to droop, soon as thick as it had been when she was muscular at what felt like half the length. Soon it was thicker, adding insult to injury while her doughy belly began to sag under gravity, going beyond pot belly as her width increased.

“What did you do to me!?” Samus demanded as she sprouted a cute second chin, her cheeks turning cherubic as fat piled up on them too, pushed upwards by her tight collar. She was now twice her original weight and twice as wide, SA-2 cackling all the while, dematerialising her suit again so Samus could get a good look at her mockery. She sunk her hands into her hips, feeling the flab expand around them and sink them deeper. She stepped forward, her legs feeling like they had weights strapped to them, squishing against each over as her belly heaved and shook.



“What did you do!?” Samus almost screamed again, pounding her chubby fists on SA-2’s iron abs, her hands bouncing off as she winced like she had hit granite.

“What do you think, fatty?” SA-2 howled with laughter, her large hands squishing into Samus’ waist as she lifted her up on her feet and into the air. “If the Federation was still scared of you, they sure aren’t now!”

Samus wriggled helplessly in her grip,

“Let go! Let me go, or I’ll-” Samus caught herself, staring awkwardly into SA-2’s smug face. She was still getting fatter, her second chin spreading as it threatened to replace neck entirely. Each thigh wasn’t just wider than her whole original body, but also longer, as her ass turned into a gigantic pair of cushions on its own. Her once svelte waist had transformed into rolling folds, and her biceps bulged and flopped onto flabby forearms that squished as she tried to flex them to break SA-2’s grip. She could feel her gut hang heavy on her, seemingly the most fat going directly to it, and it flowed outwards like a river. She could feel her zero suit ready to burst as her gut’s twin folds struggled against it, reaching out so far that if it got any bigger she wasn’t sure she’d be able to reach the end of it with her stubby arms. Her gut had grown to flop down down her waist and to her knees, and it was exhausting just to feel it dangling off her.

“Or you’ll what? Hmm? Hmm?”

Feeling utterly pathetic, Samus knew she was completely defeated. There was not a single conceivable plan that could get her out of this, but what could she do? What remained of her ego wouldn’t let her admit it. In her spite, Samus tried to go for a low blow.

“Whatever you do to me, a copy will never be as good as the original!” Her words felt trite and cliche, and she could tell SA-2 agreed.

“Hmm, maybe.” SA-2 said thoughtfully before smiling innocently again. “But who cares, when the original is ruined?”

Without warning she let go of Samus, who landed heavily on her feet and stumbled backwards, arms swinging wildly as she tried and failed to regain her balance, before finally falling flat on her back, her ass softening the lower half of her fall. Samus laid splayed out, staring at the ceiling. As if to complete her humiliation she heard and felt her zero suit’s midsection loudly rip, pale flesh bulging out of her once resilient suit. Even more humiliatingly, although her face was flanked by fat and jiggled with each heavy breath required just to live in her obese new body, and her arms were so fat she could barely move them, her chest had hardly grown at all. It had grown fat to be sure, but it was more flabby and saggy than round, and still only half the size of SA-2’s chest.

Samus tried to get back up, but when she tried to move her back, she found herself pinned to the ground. It was like somebody had placed an enormous weight on her stomach, and it was keeping her from getting up, or even flopping over. She grunted, heaved, but could do little more than feel her neck squish as she failed to upright herself. She flailed, looking like a beached whale as she tried to find some limb with the strength to get up, some position with the right leverage. But there was none, her feeble body lacking the strength to lift a body now several hundred kilograms heavy. She couldn’t even flop over onto her side, and it was all she could do to

“SA-2 here. I’ve neutralised and captured Samus Aran.” Her clone said into an earpiece in a more professional voice. “That’s right, she can’t even move. I’ll need somebody to help peel her off the floor.”

“Change me back! Fix this! Now!” Samus wheezed helplessly. “Or I’ll…! I’ll…!”

SA-2 did the worst thing possible, which was ignore her empty threats entirely. Her growth seemed to have stopped, not that it was any consolation to the blobby Samus. SA-2 crouched down next to her, occasionally poking and playing with her big belly.

“Guess I’d better tell you what happens next.” SA-2 said. “Now that I’m the only one with your DNA signature, I’m going to head back to your ship and take all your fun toys, then fully take up the role of Samus Aran as far as the public knows. You have nothing to worry about, I’m sure I’ll do an even better job than you did. Oh, and don’t worry about Adam, we’ve got that all planned out.”

“They’ll tell! Somebody will figure it out!” Samus huffed.

“No they won’t!” SA-2 laughed in her face. “Half the galaxy doesn’t even know your gender! They won’t tell the difference. There won’t be a difference. Anyway, like I said, you’re getting off lightly. Now that you’re just a normal human, we’ve got a nice comfy civilian life with a new identity prepared for you on a Federation colony, under just a teensy bit of surveillance. You won’t even have to work if you don’t want to, as a reward for saving the galaxy all those times. You can just sit around and get fatter, I guess! I don’t think they’ll let you have a gym membership, not that you’d use it anyway. You’re too used to being the best at everything by default, aren’t you Sammy? Never had to do it the hard way. Can you even do it from scratch?”

SA-2 rambled smugly at her until Samus couldn’t take it anymore.

“S-shut up! I’ll fix this!”



“Sure you will.” SA-2 gave her a quick slap on the belly, then got back up. “Don't bother trying to tell anybody you're the real Samus Aran anyway, nobody'll believe you with a body like that. Anyway, have a nice rest of your life! I won’t be seeing you, but you can see me on the news. Bye!”



SA-2 saunted off laughing as the security guards filed in, and Samus could do little more than bite her lip bitterly as she was lifted off the ground onto a cart and wheeled away…