Chapter 44: Subscribing to the Uterus' Menstrual Rage

The vending machine spit out the 48th fertilized egg token as the silver-haired clone's cervical mucus dripped into the test tube.

"Valued subscriber, your remaining contractions for the month: 3." The mechanical nurse's eyeballs popped up a holographic bill, "Renew for 20% off fertilized egg cleaning services..."

Rule #249: All fertility practices must have access to a cloud-based uterus.Luna's abdomen is embedded with an illuminated price tag that displays in real time, "Uterus Utilization: 97.8%." The TV wall in the waiting room plays genetic commercials - weeping clones holding babies and smiling, while in reality they are having their amniotic fluid pumped to power the convenience store headquarters.

"I'm canceling my subscription." Luna's taser whip wrapped around the mechanical nurse's ovulation catheter, "Disengage the genetic lock in my uterus immediately."

The nurse's metal skin suddenly peeled off, revealing the president's brain soaking in culture fluid. Neural synapses weave into a holographic projection in the air: the delivery room from twenty years ago, the mother's body connected to the convenience store power supply, Luna's first cry transformed into a pulse of energy. Even deadlier is the screen watermark - showing that the image has generated 8.88 million can points for HQ.

"Rule 250 addendum!" The robotic arm popped out a laser expander, "Unsubscribing requires ten liters of patricidal memory fluid."

The floor of the clinic suddenly caved in, revealing the horrifying truth of the basement. Three thousand clones were hanging upside down in uterine chambers, their cervical dilators linked to the refrigeration system of a convenience store cooler.Luna's retinal scans revealed that each clone's abdominal price tag was counting down - in 71 hours it would be transformed into a bio-battery.

"You think you're a customer?" The nurse's vocal cords snapped into Jax's voice, "You're just womb rental pod #48..." Mechanical fingers slice open Luna's abdomen, revealing the glittering genlock, "... Even the thrill of you killing Cole is paying the electric bill."

Riot erupted in menstrual blood.

As the first clone bites through the ovulation catheter, gushing amniotic fluid corrodes the walls with defiant slogans. The other clones began to synchronize their contractions, resonating frequencies shattering the genetic locks.Luna's valence suddenly glowed, indicating that her uterus was being remotely converted into a bomb - the countdown synchronized with the clones in the basement.

"Article 251!" She stabbed the dilator into the nurse's brainstem interface, "When the womb becomes a weapon, turn the delivery room into a graveyard!"

All the uterine chambers burst into sparks in the blue light of the EMP bomb. The clones' amniotic fluid mixed with menstrual blood flowed backward into a river, pooling into a genetic map on the clinic floor.Luna's cybernetic eye parsed out the hidden information-it was a chromosome model of the convenience store's headquarters, with each base pair labeled with a commodity code.

Moonlight is tinted pink by the blood mist, and Jax's holographic projection rises from the menstrual blood, "Dear sister, for every clone you kill..." A miniature model of his uterus pops up from his genitals, "... I increase my subscribers by one hundred thousand."

Luna cuts open her abdomen and rips out the ovaries attached to the bio-cables. As she slams the burning ovary into the holographic projection, the menstrual blood suddenly coalesces into her mother's face, "The reason for your existence is..." The bloody face fissioned into thousands of radioactive cockroaches, "... To be a competent socket."

As the clinic collapses, Luna catches the floating remnants of the genlock. UV exposure reveals the president's handwritten annotation, "When uterine utilization reaches 100%, initiate menopausal procedures."

The newly installed subscription advertising screen lights up in the wreckage. The clones dance promotional dances in their silver bondage suits as the tagline pierces the radiation cloud: 

"Annual Special! Rent Luna's womb to enjoy a patricide memory package with a free menopause countdown timer!"