The facility was eerily quiet now. The guards had been hunted down, and Riven’s growing pride of transformed lions was near complete.
Riven’s eyes gleamed as he led his new pack through the dim hallways, the sound of their footfalls reverberating off the walls. His body was a masterpiece of power and form—tall, rippling with muscle, sleek, golden-black latex flowing across his body like liquid metal. He stood at **8’4** feet tall, his chest a broad mass of hard, contoured muscle. He weighed an imposing **500 pounds**, his frame heavy with the symbiote’s relentless expansion. His tail flicked behind him, a serpentine extension of his power. He was the apex, the ruler of the pack, and it was his will that guided them.
Behind him were his progeny. The first was a towering figure—**8 feet** of brute force, with a body wrapped in dark, shimmering latex and a head crowned with golden fur. He weighed **450 pounds**, his thick frame solid and dense, yet agile. His amber eyes were fierce, unblinking, waiting for the next command.
The second was slightly shorter, but no less imposing—a lithe powerhouse of strength, standing at **7’8** feet and weighing **400 pounds**, his sleek body rippling with grace and predatory intent. His golden mane rippled down his back, his dark claws clicking as they moved.
And then there was the one who had been **converted**, the weak guard, now entirely absorbed into the symbiote’s mass. His form had been restructured—his body had expanded with latex, becoming **another layer** to Riven’s growing mass.
They were one now, all of them. Bound to Riven. Worshipping him.
Riven led them down to the facility’s final level. The last guard had tried to run—but there was nowhere left to hide. His scent was unmistakable.
The door to a storage closet was torn open with a flick of Riven’s wrist, the black-gold latex coating his hands, his fingers lengthening into whips of living material. The final guard screamed, his eyes wide with fear.
“Don’t…” he begged, but his voice trembled.
“Too late,” Riven purred, his golden eyes glinting.
The symbiote surged once again. The guard was enveloped—his body consumed, twisted, reshaped into the final lion. His screams were muffled, but they didn’t last long. Riven didn’t waste time.
When the transformation finished, the last guard was a towering, muscular beast. His form was almost identical to the others, but slightly bulkier, broader in the chest and shoulders, his limbs thick with new power. He stood **8 feet tall**, weighing a staggering **475 pounds**, his skin covered in sleek, black-gold fur. His face was elongated, fangs sharp, eyes glowing amber with devotion.
Riven turned to face him, his eyes cold but pleased. “You belong to me now.”
The new lion knelt before him, his massive form collapsing in reverence. “I exist only to serve you, my king.”
The others followed suit, their heads bowed, their bodies trembling with eagerness.
And that’s when Riven felt it—the surge of **energy**—their devotion, their **worship**. His symbiote pulsed in response, flooding through him. It wasn’t just power—it was the feeling of complete **control,** of dominance, of **being worshipped.**
The first lion approached him, his powerful hands gently grasping Riven’s shoulder. The second pressed forward, his body rippling as he touched Riven’s chest, running his claws lightly over the sleek latex that covered him. And the final lion—the most recent—crawled toward him, his large hands stroking up Riven’s thighs, caressing his sides, worshiping every inch of his **king’s** body.
Riven’s body twitched in pleasure as his pride's worship enveloped him. Each touch was a reminder of his power, of the symbiotic connection they shared. He could feel the symbiote's hunger, its thirst for **more,** and as he closed his eyes for a moment, he allowed the sensation to **consume** him.
The first lion, still kneeling, looked up at Riven, his breath shallow. “We will never leave you, my king. You are our everything.”
“Yes…” Riven purred, his voice deep, heavy with satisfaction. The symbiote rippled across his skin, shifting and expanding as if in response. He closed his eyes again, letting the sensation of their worship take him to new heights.
One by one, they all began to press closer, their bodies trembling, their hands sliding over his massive form. The latex **molded**, **expanded**, and **grew** as they touched, as they caressed, merging them into a single entity, one that existed for Riven’s pleasure, for his **power**.
The last guard—now one with the rest—was the first to speak once again, his voice dripping with adoration. “We serve you, Riven. We are yours. Forever.”
Riven opened his eyes, his gaze sweeping across the pride. They had become everything he wanted. More than just tools or servants—they were his **companions,** his **equals,** bound together by their symbiotic connection.
And soon, there would be more. More to **worship**. More to **serve**. More to **convert.**
The hunger would never be satisfied.
Not yet. Not ever.
Riven stood tall and proud, surrounded by his new pride. The king of kings. His latex-coated body gleaming, his muscles bulging, and his heart full of a power that no one could ever hope to take from him.
They would **worship** him forever.