Miranda hadn't been feeling all too well lately. For some inexplicable reason her limbs felt sore, as if she had been straining them to the point of exhaustion all day. It had gotten so bad that she dreaded getting up in the morning. However, the Normandy needed its XO. Miranda wasn't a woman that gave up easily, nor would she allow herself to be bedridden by some ache, so she fulfilled her duties as usual.
The former Cerberus operative hissed as she picked up a datapad, feeling a sharp pang of pain in her bicep as she did so. She let out a small sigh. Even as she sat alone in her bedrooms, the dull ache refused to go away and it began to frustrate her.
Mordin and doctor Chakwas hadn't found anything wrong with her upon checking her up. They had advised her to take it easy for a while. According to them, she had probably just overworked herself. There weren't any signs of illnesses that could be responsible.
Miranda frowned as she placed the device on a neat stack of similar datapads that she had gathered on her desk. Maybe she really did need some rest. After all, she did indeed have a tendency to work too much. But she couldn't help it, considering work was one of her favorite activities. Whereas others found relaxation in things like sports or games, she felt at ease when working, which was a trait she shared with their Quarian engineer.
"This is getting me nowhere." Miranda groaned audibly, rubbing her sore wrist. "Well, Shepard did say he would take over some of the work... Oh, bloody hell. I'll just rest for a while. Maybe that way I'll get rid of this terrible ache, because otherwise I'm going to ask for a blood test. This just isn't normal anymore."
She wasn't someone who liked to complain, but the situation was starting to become ridiculous. At this rate she wouldn't be able to go on missions anymore. Not that she didn't like her comfortable office, but some fresh air now and then did wonders for the mind, even if it usually meant getting shot at.
Miranda stood up from her seat and stretched her sore limbs. Her tight suit had never before felt so constricting than it did at this exact moment. A loud pop could be heard from her neck as she slightly twisted it, giving some small feeling of relief. She did the same with her arms and almost moaned as the bothersome ache lessened.
The buxom member of the Normandy walked over to her bed and almost collapsed on it, only now realizing how exhausted she felt. Miranda didn't even have time to change into something more appropriate as she remained on her back. Her eyelids dropped down as if they were as heavy as stone, her mind slowly falling into a deep slumber. Soft snoring soon echoed throughout the cabin.
However, Miranda was unaware of the radical change inside her body.
Unbeknownst to anyone, including Miranda herself, their last mission had left its mark on her body. Shepard had recently brought the Normandy to an unknown planet to deal with some upstart mercenaries. Miranda had been part of the squad that had assaulted the merc base, but exposure to the planet's atmosphere had subtly affected her modified DNA. Ever since coming back from the mission, her body had been slowly transforming as her very DNA was altered. Miranda was now the host of a new virus. Not only was it very serious, the effects of the virus were also finally manifesting in Miranda herself.
The attractive human woman was unaware as her appearance began to change.
Miranda's catsuit began to stretch out as the skin and muscles beneath it expanded. Her long legs packed on a hefty amount of muscle, more fibers and chords being developed by the virus that had grown inside of her body. While her thighs had always been attractive and full, it was nothing compared to how thick they were. Her hamstrings were now strong cables that gave incredible definition to her legs, together with bulging quadriceps as hard as stone. The white fabric that covered her thighs could barely contain the dense muscle mass beneath. Luckily for Miranda and her dignity, the suit she wore was made out of a tight but stretchy material. Miranda's calves inflated to a size as large as grapefruits, but with much more definition. It was a miracle that her boots could contain them. The growth of her legs was supported by a network of veins that mapped them.
Miranda let out a small whimper as the growth happened to her upper body as well, though she remained blissfully unaware. Her flat abdomen became more defined wit each deep breath she took. The previously toned abs grew to the size of cobblestones, deep lines running between them alongside small veins. The virus quickly took its hold on her arms. Both limbs inflated as dozens of pounds of muscle were brought into existence, improving her previous musculature. By now her biceps were as big as footballs, if not bigger than that. Their round shape almost caused her sleeves to rip apart. Miranda's forearms had more striations running across them than the average man, but they looked as if someone had sculpted them out of marble. Thick veins fueled them, crisscrossing over the sheer girth of her forearms and all the way up to her pineapple-sized biceps, not leaving her horseshoe-shaped triceps alone.
The former Cerberus employee's chest grew bigger and bigger, dense pectorals taking up more space of her broadened upper body. Miranda's pecs were big enough to have a deep line running between them. They jutted outwards due to their impressive size. However, her back was equally affected as the muscle tendons within thickened, and were reinforced with more durability and size. By now it was a maze of ripped muscles. They would give her enough strength to remain standing up right, seeing as her already impressive bust expanded. Miranda's assets inflated like balloons due to the virus that changed her very DNA. The catsuit couldn't contain them anymore, opening up above and exposing a fair share of cleavage to the world. The luscious-looking orbs of soft yet firm flesh had an impressive gap between, especially with the armored plates that were her pectorals supporting them. Not only that, but her butt also grew. Miranda's glutes gained mass, the muscle chords within developing to an amazing degree, giving off the impression that two volleyballs had been stuffed in there. The perfect shape of her butt was hypnotizing. No male, and in some cases even female, would be able to resist the temptation of her firm butt.
By the time the virus had stopped changing her body, Miranda had grown beyond what could be called an amateur bodybuilder. Her muscles were worthy of the most dedicated bodybuilders that spent their lives molding their own bodies into works of art. However, Miranda seemed to overcome even their standards. Her muscles only increased her overall sex appeal. Her curves were more pronounced than ever, both her breasts and ass now large enough to swoon any man.
And not once did she wake up.
Miranda was still asleep, her body a mountain of powerful and dense muscles, as he virus was officially done. The modified DNA strain had completed its evolution. However, the transformation that Miranda had undergone had caused it to advance even further. The cabin was already being filled with pheromones, all of them produced by Miranda, that carried the virus. No longer was it imprisoned within the human biotic, but an airborne pathogen that had transcended the barriers of species.
In conclusion, Miranda's modified DNA had given birth to a virus that would affect any girl, regardless if she was human or alien. And now it was let free to infect anyone it could find...
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