All Chapters of THE PROFESSOR'S DIRTY CLAIM : Chapter 101 - Chapter 110

The underground lab beneath the abandoned mining complex reeked of ozone, antiseptic, and something far worse burnt flesh and the metallic tang of alien blood. Alex pressed his back against a rusted console, one hand cradled protectively over the small but rapidly growing hybrid child strapped to his chest in a makeshift carrier. The boy barely three months old but already the size of a one-year-old, with faint blue veins glowing under pale skin hummed softly, a low resonant note that vibrated through Alex’s ribs. The child’s eyes, glowing faintly, watched everything with unnatural awareness.“Stay behind me,” Damian growled, rifle raised, his body angled to shield both Alex and the child. Fresh blood streaked his arm from a graze, but his eyes were sharp, feral. The mutation in the air—the airborne strain released when they breached the sealed chamber—had already begun its work on the team. One man had already fallen, skin rippling as tentacles began to push through his flesh, eyes t

The antidote burned like liquid fire through Alex’s veins, but it wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough.They had made it back to the estancia by nightfall, the hybrid child still growing at an unnatural but now-stable rate inside him. His belly was round and heavy, skin stretched tight and glowing faintly blue under the moonlight. Every step sent ripples of pleasure-pain through his body—the mutation’s remnants refusing to die quietly. His cock stayed half-hard, leaking steadily into the loose trousers Damian had found for him. His hole clenched rhythmically, slick and aching, demanding to be filled again and again.Damian carried him the last kilometer when Alex’s legs gave out, one arm under his knees, the other supporting the swollen belly. The child kicked in response, a strong flutter that made Alex moan against Damian’s neck.“Almost home,” Damian whispered, voice strained with his own lingering mutation. His cock pressed hard against Alex’s thigh through their clothes. The antidote

The corridor outside the command center was a maze of chaos—smoke billowed from ruptured panels, sparks danced along exposed wiring, and the distant rumble of the alien vessel’s assault echoed through the metal halls. Alara and Ryen moved swiftly, their footsteps echoing in the sudden silence that followed the earlier chaos. Every second counted; the alien ship’s attack was relentless, and their window of opportunity was shrinking.“We’re close,” Alara whispered, clutching her weapon tightly. Her heart pounded in her chest, a mixture of adrenaline, fear, and an unshakable determination. “The core’s just beyond that blast door. If we can reach it—”Ryen cut her off, his face grim. “No,” he said firmly. “We need to destroy the command ship itself. If we take out its main control, the entire invasion will collapse.”She hesitated, eyes narrowing. “You really think that’s possible? It’s massive—bigger than anything we’ve faced.”He nodded, resolve etched into every line of his face. “It’s

.The war room was alive with a tense energy that crackled like static in the air. Alara and Ryen stood at the center, surrounded by a council of figures cloaked in ancient robes, their faces weathered but eyes sharp with wisdom. These were the Allied Ancients—beings whose power stretched back millennia, custodians of cosmic balance, now rallying to face a new threat: the Syndicate.The Guardian’s betrayal had left them vulnerable. Their forces weakened, their defenses compromised. But now, these ancient beings some with skin like shimmering stone, others with eyes glowing like stars prepared for war.The leader of the Ancients, an imposing figure with a long silver beard and piercing azure eyes, stepped forward. His voice was deep, resonant, carrying authority. “The Syndicate’s newest weapon is their time machine. They aim to rewrite history, reshape reality to their will. If we do not stop them, all existence will unravel.”Ryen’s jaw clenched. “A time machine? How do we fight somet

Damian’s world shattered the moment Alex vanished.It didn’t happen with a dramatic explosion or a thunderous collapse. There was no warning, no final scream, no last grasp of hands slipping apart. One second Alex was there warm, alive, realand the next, he was simply… gone. Not dead. Not displaced.Erased.The silence that followed was unbearable. It spread outward like a living thing, swallowing sound, light, and meaning. The air itself felt wrong, thick and distorted, as though reality had lost its structure. Damian stood frozen, staring at the exact spot where Alex had been, his mind refusing to process what his eyes were telling him.“No…” he whispered, his voice barely audible even to himself.The temporal device beside him flickered weakly, its once-steady glow now unstable, pulsing like a fading heartbeat. The room around him—if it could still be called a room—seemed to ripple at the edges, as though the universe itself had begun to unravel thread by thread.“Alex?” he called