**”The Heir of Nihilipox”**
Althea lay there, a feeble mess of grime, sour milk, and birthing fluid. At last the immense pressure in her belly was gone, but in its place she felt the cold, sinking realization that she had entered an unwilling role of motherhood. Spent and exhausted, the young priestess propped herself up on one elbow. Though her stomach still showed a slight distension, she knew it would flatten out eventually. What she was not prepared for, however, was the slimy, lukewarm tentacle of her bastard offspring flopping against the inside of her thigh. The contact made her flinch, but fear and shock seized her body when she finally gazed down upon the awful thing that had brewed within her youthful womb.