Fun. Exciting. Welcoming. Beautiful.
Anthem was exactly like the poster promised.
Three small suns move lazily in a terse purple sky, shining a soft light on the bustling streets of the metropolis. Even after a month, you can not help but stare in wonder, as you make your way to the funicular station alongside an endless stream of jolly creatures of every size, shape, and shade.
As you wait on the platform, you take a sip from your Babaco tea. You still can not believe that the delicious beverage is completely free. Like everything else on Anthem, really. Food. Healthcare. Housing. Hell, even their infamous 76G internet connection. Not to mention the lavishly remunerated 4-hour workdays and six months paid holiday package.
Yes, Anthem really is a paradise. If it wasn't for a tiny little issue...
A tentacle politely taps on your shoulder. Somebody noticed the pastel-coloured collar around your neck. You blush. You always blush. Then you tidily put your book on the side, get up and bend over, exposing your already oozing hole to your, uh, admirer. Good thing you remembered to put your mandatory aphrodisiacs in your Babaco, because before you know, each of your tight orifices is twitching around a chunky leathery appendage.
You step out of the vehicle, your legs still trembling. Your book ended up covered in tentacle jizz and you are going to work with your clothes reduced to a sticky crumpled mess. Again. You sigh. It is just a year, you tell yourself.
A year of having your body desecrated, continuously filled to the brink with thick alien spunk. In exchange for what? A lifetime of free dental care?
No, yeah. Definitely worth it.