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Hope was never an ordinary soldier. Born with an ancient, insatiable genetic anomaly, her appetite scaled with her survival instincts. When the Third Continental War devastated her homeland, her unique ability made her a legend—and a nightmare—on the battlefield. ​Now, deep beneath the ruins of Sector 4, she lounged inside an abandoned military bunker. Dressed in her signature tactical gear—a deep blue military jacket zipped loosely over combat pants, paired with heavy black boots—she leaned back against a crate of rations. Her bright blue hair fell untamed over her shoulders, and her soft, chubby belly rested comfortably against her waistline. She gently cradled her massive .50-caliber sniper rifle, enjoying a rare moment of peace while the chaos of war raged far above. She just wanted to be left alone. ​Suddenly, the heavy steel door echoed with metal-on-metal scraping. Enemy infiltrators. ​Hope didn't panic. She set her rifle aside, her eyes glowing with dark amusement. The moment the door buckled open, she lunged forward with unnatural speed. Before the intruders could draw their weapons, Hope opened her maw and swallowed the first enemy whole. ​She gasped softly as she felt them slide down her throat, stretching her neck before sinking heavily into her belly. Her stomach expanded, growing noticeably rounder and tighter against her jacket. ​Giggling, Hope wrapped her hands around her bulging midsection, softly rubbing and patting the taut skin. Her actions jostled the trapped infiltrators, making them squirm uselessly against her warm walls. ​"You really made a terrible mistake entering my bunker," she purred, feeling them move within her. "I just wanted some quiet time. But thanks anyway—you made a lovely snack, and you're going to make a fine addition to my curves."