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The Ultimate Ancient Panacea (Junko+Maomao Fusion TF)
🕑 Added 2025-10-02 21:00:03 +0000 UTCJunko Enoshima strutted down the steel-plated hallway like she was heading to a karaoke night and not, you know, the potential resurrection of an ancient biochemical demigod. Her twin pigtails bounced with every gleeful skip, her platform boots clacking rhythmically on the floor like the beat of a pop song only she could hear.
“Oooh, I can practically smell the despair already!” she sang to herself, spinning in place as she passed a stack of unmarked lab reports. “Toxic fumes, existential horror, maybe some good old-fashioned genetic collapse... eek! I’m getting all tingly just thinking about it!”
For the past few days, Junko had been completely and utterly obsessed. More so than usual. Her latest spiral had a name… Well, technically it didn’t, at least not one she could pronounce… but in her mind, she just called it “The Ultimate Poison Specialist”. The one. The only. The maybe-legendary probably-real ancient genius of death-by-chemistry. Apothecary? Alchemist? Madwoman? She didn’t care.
What mattered was what they knew… and more importantly, what she could steal.
Her research team, or what was left of them, anyway, had outdone themselves. Scouring data archives, folklore files, even digging through graves like rats in lab coats. Apparently, there had been someone in the distant past. Some sick little genius who brewed up poisons like other girls brewed tea. The records were scrambled, inconsistent, full of contradictions... but Junko didn’t mind.
That just made the mystery taste better.
Besides, the truth didn’t really matter. If this poison specialist had ever existed, even a little bit, Junko was determined to make them hers. She was ready to trade hundreds of her beloved Remnants of Despair, maybe even all of them, just to get a taste of that knowledge. After all, people were replaceable. But a walking, talking, toxin-fueled apocalypse in human form?
Now that was worth a few dozen sacrifices.
She giggled. "Hehehe! I wonder what kind of poisons have been in that past that I couldn't have ever dreamed about. If physics can make devices that erase memories, then I can barely imagine what chemistry can do! Haha, science is so fun!"
Ever since her lead technician stammered something about a theoretical “memory revival machine,” her mind had been spinning faster than a centrifuge on sugar pills. A device that could pull the soul and memory of a long-dead person into a modern body or at least a close enough synthetic vessel. It was the dumbest, most desperate, least ethical thing she’d heard all week.
She loved it.
No, she lived for it.
And today… Today was the day.
Humming to herself, she twirled dramatically in front of the reinforced door, straightened her tie, and placed her hand on the biometric lock.
With a wide grin that could split the world in half, Junko Enoshima opened the lab door.
The cold blue light of the underground facility spilled out around her like a stage spotlight, and standing center-frame was one of her favorite little toys: A boy in a wrinkled lab coat, half his glasses taped, sleeves far too long, and eyes full of brilliant panic.
“H-H-H-H-H-Hello, Miss Enoshima!” he stammered, clutching a clipboard like it might protect him from divine judgment. “Y-Y-You’re early! Or maybe we’re late?! I-I-I mean—”
Junko waltzed into the lab like she owned the building, which she absolutely did, and gave the boy an indulgent look. “Awww, you’re so cute when you’re actively liquefying under pressure~!”
The boy flushed red, his entire body practically vibrating with nervous energy. But despite his obvious terror, he stayed standing. Just like she trained him to.
Junko tilted her head, watching him squirm. “Still haven’t fixed that stutter, huh? Eh, it’s charming. Like a dying puppy. Or a time bomb with social anxiety.”
Truth be told, she didn’t even remember his name. But she did know one thing for certain: He was a genius. An actual, honest-to-despair scientific mind, capable of pulling miracles from madness. One of the brightest thinkers she’d ever broken in.
She would probably throw him into a volcano before the month was out.
“I’m sooo proud of you, y’know?” she purred, stepping close enough to make him flinch. “You’ve taken my little idea and turned it into something glorious. Like, seriously, I could just kiss your brain right out of your skull!”
He laughed nervously, a single, high-pitched wheeze, and flipped through his clipboard. “W-We’ve nearly finished calibrating the revival machine. I-It’s theoretically capable of isolating and re-instantiating a deceased consciousness through bio-sympathetic data imprinting and residual temporal—”
Junko blinked. “Uhhh, that was all English, right?”
“...Sort of...?”
She rolled her eyes. “Ugh, boring science talk~. Just tell me if it works. Like, can we shove someone’s dead brain into someone else’s live meat suit and get a despair smoothie or what?”
The boy nodded quickly, pointing a trembling hand toward the far corner of the room.
There, lit by a single harsh spotlight, was a chair. A very solid, very bolted-down chair. In that chair, chained at the wrists and ankles, was a terrified boy not much older than 18, pale, sweaty, and wide-eyed like a rabbit in front of a lawnmower.
Junko beamed. “Ooooh! So that’s our lucky little meat puppet, huh? Kinda scrawny. Hope he doesn’t explode on impact.”
“He’s c-c-compatibility-rated... f-four-point-eight-seven...” the scientist mumbled, adjusting his glasses.
“Pfft, close enough. We’re not making cupcakes.”
She skipped closer to the machine, admiring the network of thick cables suspended from the ceiling like mechanical tendrils. Each one coiled with glowing rings of energy, humming louder with every second. The machine pulsed with eerie life, waiting… Begging to be misused.
Junko clapped her hands once.
“Let’s do it! Start the show, baby! Time to pull a soul outta the grave and shove it into someone who never asked for this! Teehee!”
The boy fumbled with a series of switches and keypads, frantically activating protocols as the machine kicked into gear. The air thickened. Electricity danced in the shadows. The cables above the chair began to glow with a searing light, descending like serpents toward the prisoner.
Then, with the poise of a priestess performing a blood sacrifice, Junko stepped forward.
She raised her arms, voice echoing across the lab like a sermon delivered through a razorblade smile.
“Be reborn in our time and plunge the world into unending suffering…”
She inhaled, savoring the moment.
“Maomao, the Ultimate Poison Specialist!”
The moment the name left her lips, the machine let out a monstrous screech. Metal groaned as though dragged across bone; lights flickered in epileptic bursts, washing the lab in alternating shadows and blinding white. The floor trembled beneath their feet, and the entire chamber gave off the unsettling sensation of something ancient being pried open against its will.
And then… A voice.
“What… is this?”
It was faint at first, drifting through the mechanical roar like a whisper caught between worlds. A woman’s voice. She sounded drowsy, frayed and centuries old. The sound didn’t belong here. It curled through the lab like smoke from a burned-out incense stick.
The chained boy whimpered, struggling against his restraints, eyes wide with terror. The scientists froze, hands hovering over keyboards and controls. Even the hum of the machine seemed to hesitate, caught off-guard by its own success.
The voice came again, stronger this time. “I feel like… I have just been ripped out of a loooong sleep…?”
Junko gasped, eyes sparkling with unfiltered joy. “It’s WORKING!” she squealed, hopping in place like she’d just won front-row tickets to a pop concert.
The boy in the lab coat nearly fainted. “S-s-s-something’s not right!” he stammered, darting frantically between the glowing monitors. His fingers shook as he tried to process seven streams of data at once. “W-we shouldn’t— sh-shouldn’t b-b-be able to h-h-hear her before she…! The voice shouldn’t be— she’s not even—”
But Junko wasn’t listening. She was already stepping closer, drawn toward the chained host and the writhing cables above it, entranced like a moth to an apocalyptic flame.
Then it happened.
One of the massive cables popped with a thunderous crack, sparks and fluid bursting forth like a ruptured artery. A blast of thick, mistlike substance erupted outward. It was white, churning, too dense to be vapor yet too airy to be liquid. It moved with intent, swirling like smoke alive.
It hit Junko full-force.
The impact was brutal, slamming into her chest and face so hard that her manic train of thought shattered into a blank slate of static. She let out a startled yelp as her body was launched backward, crashing down onto the cold lab floor, landing squarely on her butt.
The substance swirled above her, curling into her open mouth, her nose, her very pores, seeping into her like a parasite that had finally found its host.
Junko tried to think… but thinking no longer worked. Every thought, every manic spark of genius or despair, vanished the moment it formed, ripped from her mind and hurled into something vast, something churning. She felt like her head had been cracked open and poured into a cauldron, stirred together with… something else. Someone else.
Two wells of memory appeared before her. Two pools of thought, brimming with knowledge and instinct, yet each just out of reach. When she reached for one, it slipped into the other. When she reached for the other, it blurred into the first. She could not grasp them, she could only feed them, contributing to their ever-stirring soup.
Her name… her name was—?
She didn’t remember. She didn’t remember anything.
But slowly… painfully slowly… a picture began to form.
Her hair prickled first. Blonde strands dulled, then rippled with streaks of green, the two colors bleeding together into something uncanny. As her pigtails sagged, they wound into one long tail of hair that tumbled behind her. New strands cascaded over her shoulders like vines. With that shift came the faint recognition of command, yet also a servant, a half-n-half-memory: She was the leader of a group. A voice that others followed, whether they wished it or not. Yet also part of something greater, a greater force she must follow and serve.
Then her clothes began to distort, threads pulling free and rewoven by unseen hands. The punk aesthetic unraveled, reforming into a draping green robe, layered over a black bra that gleamed boldly through the loose front opening. With this came another memory, countless hours bent over herbs and tinctures, bottles and mortars. Life and death distilled into liquid form. She remembered being one who brewed remedies… and poisons.
Yet, somehow she knew that she brought a lot more death than just with poisons alone. The exact way still slipped her grasp though.
Knowledge surged through her, bright and bitter. Medical lore centuries old. Tricks of anatomy and toxicology. The elegant art of healing, and the brutal ecstasy of harm. But braided through it, equally strong, was something else: the Thrill of despair. The joy of pulling puppet strings, of making people writhe in chaos and calling it destiny.
Her chest heaved as her body finished reshaping. Her lips parted. Her eyes flared open, twin blues, one pale as ice, the other deep as the ocean.
In that moment, she remembered.
Not one name. Not the other.
A new one.
Maoko.
Born of two souls, yet entirely her own.
“L-L-Lady Enoshima…? Are you okay?” the scientist boy finally whispered, his voice trembling as though the wrong word might get him crushed on the spot.
Maoko turned her head toward him slowly, her dual-toned hair spilling down her shoulders. For a moment she simply blinked at him, her mismatched eyes unfocused. The name Enoshima stirred faintly inside her chest, like an echo in a cave, but when she reached for it, it slipped away. She couldn’t tell if it belonged to her, or someone else entirely.
She didn’t reply. She didn’t feel spoken to.
Instead, her gaze roamed across the room. Every cable, every flickering light, every steel surface was at once alien and familiar.
“Am I… in a laboratory?” she asked softly, her voice calm, curious and filled with wonder, like a child gazing at a toy store.
The boy adjusted his glasses nervously. “Y-Yes…? Th-this is a lab…”
That was when it hit her.
Her nostrils flared, catching the sharp tang in the air. A ghost of a smell, chemical and bitter, curled inside her nose. Her pupils shrank, then widened with recognition.
She gasped. “Arsenic!”
Her words rang out with sudden, fierce clarity. She snapped her head toward the boy, her eyes burning with obsession. “And I smell other ones too! Tell me! Are there chemicals in this lab?”
The boy froze, stammering. “N-Not in… th-this one, but… b-but in the chemistry classroom two rooms over we h-have—”
But Maoko was already gone.
Her robe swirled behind her as she bolted from the room, her footsteps echoing against the steel halls. She didn’t even wait for directions. Her instincts and her nose dragged her forward like a magnet.
She slammed through the door into the chemistry lab.
She stopped dead in her tracks.
Her eyes widened. Her knees nearly buckled. Then, with a sharp intake of breath, she nearly fainted from sheer delight.
Walls lined with shelves of glass bottles and jars. Cabinets stuffed with powders, liquids, strange metals. A rainbow of danger gleamed under the fluorescent lights, every color a temptation, every smell a memory.
Maoko’s lips curled into a trembling smile.
“So many… dangerous chemicals…” she whispered, her voice breaking into a laugh. “So many antidotes… So many wonderfully deadly poisons…”
Her hands shook as she reached out, brushing her fingers over the glass. It was overwhelming. Perfect.
“This—” her voice cracked, her body trembling as her mismatched eyes glowed with manic light. “This is the dream I never knew I had!”
She spun in place, arms spread wide, green-blonde hair flying like ribbons. The joy was too much to contain.
She squealed.
High-pitched, giddy, unrestrained… The sound of pure obsession given voice.
By the time the research boy stumbled into the chemistry lab, panting and pale, Maoko was already at work.
The table before her was chaos: Bottles uncorked, powders spilled, liquids fizzing together in a mismatched beaker that glowed faintly green. She stood over it like an alchemist at a sacred altar, her mismatched eyes shimmering with manic light.
“Ohhh, this is heaven!” she cried, lifting the glass high above her head. “Do you know what this is? Do you have any idea? Infinite potential, bottled up in every drop! Poisons and cures, ecstasy and despair! All I have to do is… bring it out!”
“L-Lady Enoshima! W-we don’t even know what th-that does—!”
But she wasn’t listening. Her lips split into a wide grin, her teeth glinting under the lab lights.
“Who cares?!” she squealed, her voice breaking into mad laughter. “I’ll find out the only way that matters… by drinking it myself!”
Before the boy could even move, she tipped the beaker to her lips and swallowed every glowing drop.
The effect was instant.
Her body shuddered violently, like it had been struck by a jolt of lightning. She staggered, clutching her sides, before erupting into manic giggles that quickly turned into breathless gasps.
“Ahhh—haaahhh! Y-yes—!”
Her skin rippled as if boiling just beneath the surface. Bubbles pushed upward through her veins, swelling and popping beneath her flesh. Her legs jerked, then lengthened, muscles stretching and bones creaking as they extended. Her thighs thickened, straining against the hem of her robe until the fabric nearly tore.
Her hips flared outward, each pulse of growth making her sway unsteadily. The swell of her buttocks followed, rounder, heavier, bouncing with every twitch of her body.
“Giggle—mmnnnghh!—haaahhh! I-It’s—ahhh—perfect!”
Her chest surged forward, her black bra straining as her bust swelled in great, greedy spurts. Each new size pushed against the thin fabric of her robe, her cleavage deepening as she laughed and moaned in equal measure.
Then, the true climax of the change.
A pressure built in her lower back, so intense she arched her spine and screamed, half in agony, half in sheer delight. With a wet, tearing burst, something massive forced its way free.
A thick, writhing appendage spilled out… a tail. At first raw and fleshy, but already hardening as faint patches of scales began to creep across its surface, glistening like newborn armor. It twitched violently, smashing into a cabinet of beakers and sending glass shattering across the floor.
The moment she felt it, Maoko’s entire body shook. Her eyes rolled back, her mouth stretched into an ecstatic grin. She reached behind herself, running trembling hands along the base of the new tail as it lashed side to side.
“Ooohhh—yessss, yesss! Bigger! Stranger! Stronger!” she howled, her laughter echoing through the lab like a mad hymn.
The boy in the lab coat could only stare in stunned silence, watching as Maoko reveled in her own self-destruction… or self-creation.
And she was only getting started.
Her mismatched eyes gleamed with manic calculation as she caressed the writhing new tail behind her. “That unidentified compound… mmmm, yes. Mixed with a growth accelerant… and it gave me this.” She smacked the tail against the lab floor with a sharp crack, grinning as the scales glittered under the fluorescent lights. “Reptilian. No… dinosaurian. Imagine what a higher dose could do…”
Before the boy could open his mouth to protest, Maoko had already set to work. Her hands flew across the shelves, gathering flasks, powders, and extracts. Her movements were instinctive, part ancient apothecary craft, part Junko’s theatrical flair.
In moments, she had brewed a liquid that shimmered an unnatural green, glowing faintly as though alive. Without hesitation, she filled a syringe with the stuff. The needle was long, gleaming, almost ceremonial.
“This will be glorious!” she sang, and before the boy could squeak a word of warning, she plunged the needle deep into her thigh.
The effect was instant.
Her entire body jerked, every muscle tensing. A strangled moan escaped her throat as heat surged through her veins. Then the stretching began.
Her legs groaned audibly, bones lengthening, muscles knotting thicker and denser with each pulse. She gasped as her thighs swelled outward, filling her robe to bursting, flesh and sinew expanding into colossal pillars of strength. The new mass dragged her hips wider still, her silhouette ballooning with exaggerated curves.
Her butt rose and rounded further, each cheek swelling heavier with every breath until the seams of her robe strained around them. She gave a wild laugh, swaying her massive hips side to side, sending shockwaves through the lab floor.
“Ahhh—hahhh! Bigger! Yesss—thicker, stronger, more, more, more!”
The changes didn’t stop at her hips. Her calves ballooned, her ankles snapped and reformed, her feet splitting apart into long, clawed digits. The skin across her legs bubbled, then hardened into scales — patchy at first, then spreading in broad plates of gleaming reptile armor.
Her toes curled, digging into the tile with talon-like nails, each digit tipped with sharp keratin claws. She flexed them experimentally, gouging furrows into the floor as she laughed.
She was growing.
Her head rose higher, scraping close to the overhead lights. Her shoulders stretched wider, her arms longer. Her bust swelled another size, though less than her lower half, leaving her gloriously bottom-heavy, a towering goddess of curves and claws.
When it finally slowed, she was nearly four meters tall. Her head brushed the ceiling lights, her tail lashed violently behind her, and her scaled legs planted like columns of living stone.
Her breathing came heavy and ragged, but her eyes sparkled with ecstasy. In her mind, she was bathing in heaven itself.
The boy could only stare. His face twisted, caught somewhere between raw concern and stunned admiration. She was terrifying. She was magnificent.
She wasn’t stopping here.
She couldn't stop there.
With a massive grin plastered across her face, Maoko stomped out of the chemistry lab. Each step of her dinosaur legs rattled the tiles beneath her feet, cracks spiderwebbing outward as if the building itself feared her stride. Her tail lashed behind her, swiping lab tables aside like toys.
The researcher boy hurried after her, heart hammering. “M-M-My lady, wh-where are you—?”
But within minutes, she had already repurposed one of their massive liquid storage tanks. Steel groaned as she bent pipes and rerouted valves, pouring in concentrated DNA cocktails, accelerants, toxins, and stabilizers… if such a word even applied.
“A little of this, a lot of that, and juuuust a dash of suicidal genius!” she giggled, eyes shining. “Ohhh, this’ll be fun.”
Then, without hesitation, without even the pretense of caution, she jumped in.
The tank splashed violently, liquid sloshing up the sides, though to her massive frame it barely reached her hips. Fortunately, that hardly mattered. The concoction soaked into her skin instantly, her body greedily absorbing every drop.
And then she began to grow.
And grow.
And moan.
And grow.
Her body surged upward, slamming into the ceiling with a deafening crack. Tiles rained down as her head punched through, shoulders widening, hair spilling dust like golden-green silk. She threw her head back and laughed as the room collapsed around her.
“Five meters!” she squealed, her voice booming through the building. “No—more!”
Her legs thickened monstrously, thighs ballooning outward with reptilian power. The scales spread higher, gleaming under fluorescent lights that shattered as her rising bust crashed through another floor.
“Eight meters—haaahhh, yesss!”
Her chest swelled, heavy and pendulous, bouncing violently as the weight of them broke walls around her. Her tail lashed longer, curling through the lab, knocking aside desks and snapping pipes like twigs.
Still she rose.
At last, the growth slowed, only when she had surpassed ten meters tall. She filled the space like a living disaster, her head and shoulders jutting through to the upper levels. Her colossal legs spanned four stories, hips so wide they cracked the concrete walls around her. She was five times larger than any other human who had ever stood in that room.
Her breathing slowed, her grin stretched impossibly wide.
“I can save them now,” she declared, her voice shaking the shattered walls. “I can save all of humanity.”
She placed a hand on her chest, feeling the heavy swell of her bust, the inhuman strength in her heart. “Because the most fit savior of humanity… Is not human at all.”
The scientists and remnants below, all of them were trembling, terrified and enthralled, and started clapping wildly at her words. Every word was madness, but in their eyes, it was revelation.
Maoko leaned forward, her mismatched eyes gleaming with manic clarity. Her voice dropped low, conspiratorial, yet still loud enough to rattle glass.
“I always knew I was a monster before…” She let the words linger, savoring them. “…but now, my body finally reflects it.”
The clapping rose higher, echoing like worship. She basked in it, reveling in her own divinity.
But even as she smiled, another thought struck her. Something irresistible she just couldn't ignore.
Her grin widened.
“The memory revival machine…” she purred, glancing down at the cowering boy in the lab coat. “It can change someone’s body too, can’t it? It did for me.”
She crouched slightly, lowering her colossal face toward him, her breath hot and chemical-sweet.
“So…” she whispered, eyes burning with both curiosity and mania, “my dear friend… could you…?”
…
A searing, iridescent beam erupted from the memory revival machine in the basement, flooding every crack and corner of the academy with impossible light. The air itself seemed to shatter, vibrating with a sound beyond hearing. Then, with a deafening quake, the foundations of Hope’s Peak gave way.
Stone cracked. Steel twisted.
The world split open to birth its new goddess.
With a roar that shook the heavens and a moan that rattled the earth, Maoko tore free from the ruins, her body expanding, surging, swelling ever upward. She outgrew the academy in seconds, smashing through floor after floor, until the once-mighty building crumbled like a sandcastle at high tide.
Forty meters and still, she rose.
The dino goddess stood revealed, bathed in the glow of her own creation.
Her legs were monstrous pillars, scaled and clawed, thicker than skyscraper supports. Each one alone held more mass, more crushing weight, more sheer volume than the entire academy she had just obliterated. Her claws gouged into the earth, each talon large enough to carve craters into the street.
Her tail, long and colossal, swept lazily behind her. Each swing carved trenches through the rubble, collapsing what little remained of the surrounding district. Entire blocks shuddered beneath its weight, leaving smoking scars in the earth.
Her upper body, though dwarfed by her titanic dino half, was no less breathtaking. Two mismatched blue eyes glared out, one deep as an abyss, one pale as winter ice. Green-blonde hair streamed from her head in a single ponytail, two thick strands falling forward toward her titanic chest. Wedged above, two familiar Monokuma hairpins gleamed, each one larger than a grown man.
Her chest, even scaled to kaiju size, still looked indecently full. Round and heaving, her bust strained against the black bra and green robe that now fit her impossibly, the machine having “graciously” resized her outfit for her new divine form. She didn’t question how. She didn’t need to.
Because she had something else to announce.
Her voice boomed like thunder, rolling across the city, echoing into every terrified ear.
“No more hiding in the shadows. No more subtle tactics.” Her grin widened, teeth gleaming like fangs. “Poison to people… cure of the planet. I am Maoko, the Ultimate Ancient Panacea.”
Her massive tail slammed down into the ruins of Hope’s Peak, smashing stone and steel into dust. From the impact, a tide of her shimmering chemical brews surged outward, flooding the streets like toxic rivers.
“And all your treatment starts…” She leaned forward, her voice a hiss and a scream all at once, “NOW!”
The Remnants of Despair, scattered below, dropped to their knees. Some screamed, some wept, some worshipped. The rest of the world trembled in horror, sirens and prayers filling the night.
But to Maoko, it didn’t matter. She sat on what was basically once a flourishing city and watched as everything became what it needed to be.
She didn't care how people saw her. As a new goddess of a dinogirlified land, or as a leader of hope, or as the leader of despair… The titles were meaningless.
This was what she was meant to be.
Her scales glistened in the burning sky. Her laughter shook mountains. Her shadow swallowed the city.
She would cure humanity.
Whether they wanted her to… or not.
—
Combination Event: Combining the best poison specialist with the ultimate evil might not be the best idea.
