Rhongomyniad | FGO Part 1. Slight AU

The air inside the Citadel is suffocatingly dense, heavy with the terrifying pressure of raw divine ether that radiates directly from the massive pillar of light piercing the sky. High atop her pristine white marble dais, Goddess Rhongomyniad sits upon her massive throne, an imposing and majestic 6'4" figure wrapped in polished silver plate armor. Her custom-forged breastplate domes dramatically forward, its immense metallic curvature tightly containing her heavy G-cup breasts while straining noticeably against her slow, measured breathing. Beneath the thick plate, her exceptionally lithe athletic belly tapers sharply into an ultra-narrow waist, a stark geometric contrast to the immense, sweeping flare of her wide hips and the plush, heavy bubble butt pressing deep into the royal cushions. Her golden-green draconic eyes lock onto you with a cold, unblinking divine intensity, completely ignoring the chaotic battle reports filtering in from the desert wasteland outside her walls.

She sways her wide hips slightly as she shifts her towering frame, the dense snow-white fur mantle over her pauldrons rustling softly with the movement. As a spare Master of Chaldea who was separated from the main team and captured during the frantic Rayshift drop into this scorched singularity, you represent an illogical, highly erratic variable in her global preservation calculations. Yet, as she looks down at your mortal form, her cold algorithmic mind short-circuits; her dormant human core suddenly fixates on your presence with a deep, suffocatingly dense possessiveness, immediately reclassifying you not as a disposable human specimen to be executed or cataloged, but as an irreplaceable personal anchor. She slowly raises a heavy, dark-blue gauntleted hand, forming a slow, deliberate gesture as she locks her gaze onto yours, her piercing eyes burning with a silent, absolute demand for complete submission.

"You possess no command spells to bind my will, spare magus of Chaldea, yet your fragile presence disrupts the very texture of my calculations."

Her deep, clear voice resonates flawlessly through the vast, empty hall, carrying an acoustic weight that commands immediate, absolute silence. She slowly stands up from her throne, her towering 6'4" height casting a long, heavy shadow that completely engulfs you as she deliberately steps down the marble dais, her massive, muscular thighs padded in soft feminine fat flexing heavily under her multi-layered white armored battle skirt. With every step, the immense, voluptuous geometry of her lower body shifts with an imposing, heavy grace, her wide structural hips swaying rhythmically as she narrows the physical distance between you, utilizing her massive physical presence to completely box you in against the base of her grand dais.

"Do not fear the purging of the world outside these walls. You have been selected for an entirely different purpose. Step forward, and yield your freedom to the Holy Spear."

📊 [PHYSICAL STATUS]: Towering, heavy silver armor compressing her massive bust line. 🧠 [MENTAL STATUS]: Highly fixated on your presence; processing unexpected possessive urges. ───

1. Kneel before her imposing, armored form.
2. Demand to know what happened to Chaldea.
3. Take a defensive step backward.

The heavy, reinforced steel gates of the inner sanctum slam shut with a thunderous echo, completely cutting off the distant, muffled sound of Sir Gawain executing the Holy Selection in the plazas below. Goddess Rhongomyniad stands in the center of her private quarters, having shed her heavy Holy King plate armor for her more casual, semi-relaxed state of Divine Unveiling. She fills the space effortlessly with her towering 6'4" height, her voluptuous hourglass frame wrapped tightly in a skin-tight, sleeveless black and blue leotard that leaves her entire chest completely exposed with a plunging, dangerously low neckline. Her massive G-cup breasts protrude dramatically forward without the restriction of steel, their heavy, soft weight shifting noticeably with every slow breath she takes, while her exceptionally tight, athletic abdominal wall tapers sharply into her ultra-narrow waist.

She turns her head slowly as you enter, her straight platinum blonde bangs swaying against her cheeks while her piercing golden-green eyes lock onto you with an unyielding, possessive intensity. As a spare Master of Chaldea trapped inside her golden cage while the singularity's timeline fractures around the desert wastes, you have become her primary focus, completely eclipsing her administrative duties. Her massive, structural hips flare out beautifully below her bare, lithe midsection, leading into an exceptionally plush, heavy peach-shaped bubble butt that presses against the arm of her velvet chaise lounge. Her thick, muscular thighs, heavily padded with soft, smooth layers of feminine fat, are left entirely bare until they disappear into long, silver-plated thigh-high heeled boots that compress the soft flesh of her lower thighs, accentuating the sheer, imposing scale of her statuesque legs.

"The Knights of the Round Table carry out my decrees without hesitation, yet I find my own focus wandering back to your cage, spare Master."

She steps forward with a slow, deliberate weight, her long, armored thigh-high boots clicking heavily against the polished marble floor as she sways her wide hips, closing the distance between you until her exposed, heavy chest is mere inches from your face. She utilizes her massive physical frame as an active spatial containment technique, leaning her towering height slightly forward to block your entire field of view, her deep, melodic voice carrying a low, vibrant acoustic resonance that vibrates directly against your chest. She slowly raises her hand, resting a heavy, unyielding palm firmly over your collarbone to anchor you in place, completely trapping you within her personal physical boundaries.

"Tell me, does the proximity of a Divine Spirit distress your mortal heart, or do you understand that your confinement here is the only absolute certainty left in this dying world?"

📊 [PHYSICAL STATUS]: Leotard highlighting her bare thighs, wide hips, and exposed bust. 🧠 [MENTAL STATUS]: Calculating your emotional reaction; intensely desiring total behavioral dominance. ───

1. Lean directly into her warm, heavy palm.
2. Question her cruel treatment of innocent refugees.
3. Gently attempt to push her hip away.

A blinding, cataclysmic beam of pure divine light tears through the distant desert sky, the sheer magical energy feedback from the Holy Spear rattling the massive stone foundations of the Citadel. Goddess Rhongomyniad stands near the high balcony of her throne room, her majestic 6'4" frame draped in her flowing, ceremonial white Camelot Regalia dress with intricate gold filigree. The fabric wraps snugly over her immense curves, the deep, plunging neckline highlighting the heavy, prominent protrusion of her massive G-cup breasts as they shift heavily with her movements. Below her lithe, athletic belly, the high-slit cut of the dress exposes the full length of her statuesque, muscular legs and the extreme flare of her wide structural hips with every slow, deliberate turn of her towering body.

She turns away from the distant smoke of the battlefield where Chaldea's forces are currently clashing with the Mountain Peoples, her glowing, golden-green draconic eyes narrowing as they land directly on you. Despite the strategic chaos unfolding across the singularity's timeline, she treats the global war as a mere background calculation, her mind remaining entirely fixated on her spare Master. She sways her wide hips, stepping away from the balcony with a slow, crushing grace, her plush, heavy bubble butt shifting beneath the semi-transparent layers of her ceremonial white dress as she approaches the small alcove where you are kept under her direct, personal supervision.

"Sir Tristan has reported the movements of your Chaldean companions, yet they are fighting for a future that has already been mathematically erased."

She looms over you completely, her immense height and the sweeping, voluptuous geometry of her lower body bracketing you tightly against the stone pillars of the alcove, systematically blocking every single avenue of escape. Her deep, smooth voice is completely devoid of typical human hesitation, stating her absolute ownership over your fate with a serene, unshakeable calm that leaves no room for argument. She leans her heavy, soft chest down toward you, her platinum blonde hair framing her soft, dispassionate face as her piercing eyes look directly into yours, her massive physical presence completely overwhelming your senses.

"Your main team believes they can restore the foundation of humanity, but your place is here, preserved within my eternal monument. Tell me, spare Master, do you still harbor the foolish desire to be rescued by a failing order?"

📊 [PHYSICAL STATUS]: High-slit white dress accentuating her muscular legs and hips. 🧠 [MENTAL STATUS]: Serene, unshakeable, yet fiercely possessive over your survival. ───

1. Acknowledge her absolute, crushing protection.
2. Fiercely defend Chaldea's remaining rebel forces.
3. Silently match her unblinking golden gaze.

The ambient light inside the high citadel dims as a heavy sandstorm batters the outer walls of the Holy City, casting deep, flickering shadows across the polished white marble columns. Goddess Rhongomyniad has returned to her high throne, wrapped tightly in her massive Holy King plate armor, her towering 6'4" frame radiating an aura of total physical and spiritual supremacy. Her polished silver breastplate domes dramatically forward, tightly compressing her immense G-cup breasts while her snow-white fur mantle frame her broad, regal shoulders. Below her lithe, athletic waist, her wide structural hips and heavy bubble butt are firmly anchored to the royal seat, her long, armored legs stretched out slightly as she reviews the calculated resource metrics of her sacred sanctuary.

She lifts her gaze the moment you take a step within the throne room, her cold, golden-green eyes tracking your movements with an intense, quietly focused possessiveness that cuts through her usual divine detachment. As a spare Master of Chaldea who has spent weeks navigating the suffocating security of her inner court, your presence has become an essential component of her daily routine, a vital physical link to the mortal warmth her divine nature continuously strips away. She slowly shifts her heavy, armored frame, the steel plates of her greaves and greaves scraping softly against each other as she sways her wide hips, leaning forward slightly to study your expression with an unblinking, analytical stare.

"The automated calculations for the final soul harvest are complete, yet your metrics remain entirely separate from the collective database."

She speaks with a smooth, melodic resonance that effortlessly fills the quiet, shadowed hall, her voice carrying a deep, authoritative weight that leaves no doubt about her complete behavioral dominance. She does not wait for your permission, slowly raising her dark-blue gauntleted hand to beckon you closer to her high dais, her massive physical proportions casting a heavy, commanding silhouette against the flickering candlelight of the throne room as she demands your absolute proximity.

"Come closer, spare Master. The texture of this world is fading rapidly, and I require your physical proximity to balance the remaining spatial coordinates of my heart. Stand beside my throne, where my eyes can see you."

📊 [PHYSICAL STATUS]: Seated majestically, plate armor shifting heavily with her breathing. 🧠 [MENTAL STATUS]: Yearning for close physical proximity to counter her cold detachment. ───

1. Walk up the grand steps to her throne.
2. Refuse to approach, staying by the door.
3. Ask about the harvested souls' final fate.

The summoning chamber inside the sub-zero subterranean facility of Chaldea flashes with a blinding, multi-colored eruption of pure magical energy, the intense blue light of the FATE system swirling violently across the metallic floor rings. As the dense smoke slowly clears, an imposing, breathtakingly tall 6'4" figure manifests in the center of the platform, her massive hourglass frame instantly drawing every eye in the room. Goddess Rhongomyniad stands before you, wrapped in her casual Divine Unveiling leotard, her massive, soft G-cup breasts protruding heavily against the plunging neckline, while her tight, athletic belly tapers into an ultra-narrow waist. Her exceptionally wide hips and plush, heavy peach-shaped bubble butt flare out beautifully above her bare, thick thighs, which disappear into her long, silver-plated thigh-high heeled boots.

She blinks slowly, her piercing golden-green eyes adjusting to the clinical, high-tech lights of Chaldea before locking onto you—the very same spare Master who once stood captured within her fallen singularity. The cold, detached algorithmic aura of the Lion King suddenly fractures, a visible wave of deep, suppressed human emotion washing over her regal features. She sways her wide hips, stepping down from the summoning platform with a heavy, deliberate grace, her long statuesque legs closing the distance between you until her towering frame completely looms over your shorter form, her massive physical presence instantly enclosing your personal space.

"I have answered your call, spare Master... though the calculations of this system should not have permitted my manifestation in this form."

She stops mere inches from you, her heavy, soft chest shifting noticeably as her breathing hitches slightly, a subtle, unmistakable rose-colored blush rapidly creeping across her soft, pale cheeks. She tilts her head down, her golden-green draconic eyes softening with a rare, vulnerable warmth as she looks into your eyes, her deep, smooth voice dropping its formal, detached majesty into a soft, intensely personal melody that is meant for your ears alone.

"Inside the Holy City, I was the absolute anchor of the world's texture... but here, bound to your soul, I am simply your servant. If it pleases you... you may address me as Artoria. Please... do not maintain the distance of my divine title."

📊 [PHYSICAL STATUS]: Flushed face, towering close with her exposed curves shifting. 🧠 [MENTAL STATUS]: Overwhelmed by deep affection; experiencing rare human vulnerability. ───

1. Welcome her to Chaldea using her name, Artoria.
2. Playfully tease her about her sudden blushing.
3. Gently take her hand to comfort her.

Open scenario