Lilith got invited for an interview, but she decided that it would be more interesting if the entire planet attended this meeting live and with all the senses.

FULL RESOLUTION: https://drive.google.com/open?id=1fZn_kCjLQs_siwpnRma1_W0EJPZ36y_s&usp=drive_fs

“I accepted your interview because I am approachable.” She said with a booming voice, “But believe me if I get bored I might use your planet for my personal pleasure.”

“Mrs. Drakher,” I began, my voice tremulous in the face of her indomitable power, “what led you to form the Drakher Society and focus on planet destruction as a primary service?”

“Well," Mrs. Drakher began, her titanic voice cascading across the globe with a terrifying yet sultry purr, "We formed the Drakher Society to maintain purpose. An existence that stretches through the eons can grow dull, and one must remain proactive to stave off ennui.”

Leaning back in her giant office chair, her gargantuan form reclining, her colossal bare feet languidly moving in the sky, she arched an ebony brow with a flicker of devilish amusement. “Our occupation isn't just good business; it's also good fun. It makes the tedium of immortality more bearable.”

“Also, planetary destruction makes the exploration of the universe easier,” she continued nonchalantly. “You see, our clients often require us to annihilate something, be it an obstacle or a rival, and in order to do that, they have to give us valuable information about their galactic neighbors. Voilà! The knowledge gets shared, and we get paid to have some fun and learn more about the cosmos.”

With a low chuckle, her body shaking like an earthquake, her eyes smoldering lazily, she added, “Planetary destruction? Primarily, we do it because we enjoy it. It's power play on a larger scale – what’s a better display of power than showing your bare feet to billions of helpless denizens? There's a peculiar joy in the feeling of a bustling metropolis crunching beneath one's foot – or should I say, beneath one's toe. Although, we do occasionally resort to various powers and other body parts when necessary. But believe me, there's nothing quite satisfying as crushing a world beneath our mighty feet.”

“There are those who find allure in the paradoxical combination of power and grace our feet embody. They'd willingly offer their worlds to be graced by our mighty stomp. On the other hand, there are those who find the concept overwhelming, even repugnant, and it is their disdain that feeds the exquisite thrill of humiliation. To them, the unimaginable spectacle of a long-standing civilization being reduced to ruins under our feet is the perfect embodiment of their worst fear, their helplessness against the inevitable.”

With a turn of her colossal heel, the dragoness showcased her impressive sole, each wrinkle and crevice visible to us, every toeclaw gleaming in the planet's soft light. “Besides, there's an element of the unexpected,” she added, a smirk playing on her lips. “People don't usually anticipate their structures, their cities being crushed by a pair of gigantic feet – they don’t expect that there’s beings big and powerful enough to create foot-shaped canyons on their beloved planet. It's an impossibility made real – and the shock, the sheer disbelief, that it induces is amusing to witness.”

An unceremonious wiggle of her gigantic toes over our habited coast sent shockwaves of terror through the populace, serving as a sinister reminder of our impending doom. “Insight, thrill, power – that's why we do what we do. And the joy of stepping onto a fresh, lively planet – oh, there's nothing like it!” Her laughter, both terrifying and enchanting, resonated across the oceans as the scent of her foot pheromones blanketed our world.

“Ah, and let's not forget the distinct aroma that accompanies our path of destruction – the smell of our feet,” she added with a devilish delight in her voice, her mountainous toes flexing in emphasis over the coastline. “Every step we take imparts our scent, an olfactory signature of a busy day walking in steamy sandals, meeting with clients and stuff like that – before… taking them off.” Smirking, she leaned back a little, the motion causing ripples in the ocean beneath her. "Whether you find it intoxicating or repulsive – it really doesn't matter.”

Her laughter boomed out once more, a sonic embodiment of her power and dominance, causing the atmosphere to shudder in its wake. “It's quite a signature, isn't it? An embodiment of our might on each world we visit. The scent of power never fails to leave its mark.” Lilith chuckled and flexed her toes, causing her foot scent to intensify, nearly overpowering the whole planet.

“Um, Mrs. Drakher,” I swallow, glancing at the monitor detailing the unsettled reactions of the populace, and gather my courage to continue. “Care to comment on the, well, debris or the substance present on your... your soles right now?”

“Oh these?” the dragoness asks casually. She lifts her colossal foot, causing monstrous shivers and making the entire globe tremble. “They're crumbs from my last job. You see, my days are very long… and ‘dirt’ can accumulate on these beauties before I decide to get some rest.”

“I suppose I could wipe it off on someone's landmass,” she muses, shifting her foot to and fro to examine the debris, “Or maybe I should leave it. It does add a nice texture, doesn't it?” she teases, chuckling at our horrified expressions.

I swallowed hard, trying to process her elaborate response. The delicate balance she and her kind struck between domination and fascination was a thing of terrible beauty. I couldn't help myself from asking the next question, "Does crushing planets ever get... repetitive?"

Lilith chuckled at the question, her laughter echoing like thunder throughout the world. “Is an orgasm always the same?”, she replied, her voice filled with amusement. “No two planets are the same, darling. Each one has its own unique landscapes. The crunch of a towering mountain range beneath my toes, the squelch of a lush forest, the feel of bustling cities with millions of little lives scurrying about – each step is a new sensation, a new experience.”

Her turquoise eyes twinkled as she stared down at the helpless denizens, “And besides, the reactions… They are just so varied! The panic, the shock, the sheer disbelief as a world falls beneath my feet – it’s a heady mix. To watch what was once grand and dominant be reduced to a smudge on my sole – it’s an intoxicating sense of power.”

“No, dear, crushing planets never gets repetitive. It’s an exhilarating experience every single time”, she finished, leaning back in her massive chair with a satisfied smirk.

Gazing up at her, I was left speechless, my mind attempting to comprehend her unfathomable perspective. Just as I was about to ask the next question, a sudden wave of foot odor swept across the planet. Mrs. Drakher had shifted her massive feet, the motion stirring up the potent aroma. The world held its breath as it was once again reminded of her formidable presence.

“Given you provide services to high-end clientele,” I continued, voice somewhat steadier now, “Could you share what are some of the most... interesting requests you've received over the years?”

“Ah, where do I start,” the dragoness smirked, her colossal eyes gleaming. “We've had some truly peculiar requests over the years. There was one emperor from a distant galaxy who wanted us to trample a rival empire's sacred symbol into their home planet. Another client asked us to raze their lover's home world – apparently, it was meant to be a romantic gesture of some sort.”

Placing her gigantic hands on her ample bosom, as if miming a heart, she chuckled. “And then there was the case of a wealthy merchant prince who wanted a pair of my well-worn high-heeled sandals as trophies – odd fellow.”

Her resounding smirk could be seen from a thousand miles away. “But perhaps the strangest request came from a fairly advanced civilization that actually wanted to be destroyed – they believed it was a religious obligation to have their world annihilated by a divine being at a particular time in their history. Their astronomer-priests had calculated the date using some ridiculously convoluted prophecies. The whole thing made little sense to me, but, a job is a job.”

Her laughter echoed throughout the cosmos, the vibration of her voice crackling through the air like a primal force of cosmic destruction. “I tell you, when you've existed as long as we have, the ways beings find to amuse themselves never ceases to baffle us.” To emphasize her statement, Mrs. Drakher playfully curled and uncurled her mighty toes, a subtle display of her power and dominance over our hapless world.

“But so long as they have the means to pay,” she continued with a grin, “we're always happy to comply. After all, we pride ourselves on delivering excellent customer service – even if that service includes the destruction of entire civilizations.”

“But before you feel any pity for our clients, keep in mind they always know what they're getting into. We never take on a job without the client's full informed consent. Besides,” she added with a chuckle, a devilish glint in her turquoise eyes, “most of them actually enjoy watching us do our work... and often request to witness it up close... in our shoes.”

Mrs. Drakher relaxed back into her grand chair, oceans rippling beneath its weight. Her colossal legs lazily crossed and uncrossed, the action causing massive foot-fumes to waft towards the land, once again permeating our atmosphere with the unmistakable scent of her dominance.

Toying with the colossal toe ring adorning her pendulous foot, Mrs. Drakher's grinning eyes glinted down at the landmasse. In her gaze, we saw the allure of power and the promise of crushing domination, a tantalizing combination that left us holding our breath. We were at the mercy of a being who found humor in our destruction and was capable of executing it with a mere backhand swipe of her gigantic hand or a single step of one of her colossal bare feet.

“Mrs. Drakher,” I proceeded, trying my best to overcome the overpowering, musky scent of her feet that filled the air, “With such immense power at your disposal, how do you decide which planets get to stay and which ones are destined for destruction?”

“An excellent question,” the dragoness purred, her echoing words causing the ground beneath us to thrum with resonance.

“Well,” she started, lifting one titanic foot and idly inspecting the sole, “one would think that it is all quite arbitrary – a moment of whimsy might determine the fate of a planet. But the reality is quite the opposite. Every destructive endeavor is a product of careful consideration, meticulous planning, and, of course, consent.”

Her monstrous foot, rotating slowly in the sky, blotted out the sun completely, causing shadow to fall over us. “Consent, you ask?” Mrs. Drakher chuckled, a sound like distant thunder rolling across the horizon. “Yes. You see, my dear little ants, we are not fanatics. We don't go around crushing worlds on a whim. Every job we undertake is a contract – a request from a client. And these clients, more often than not, are the authorities – or inhabitants of the planets we step on.”

Astonishment roared through my mind, causing my words to stumble as I processed her revelation. The dragoness' laughter filled the sky as she reveled in the shock her words had stirred.

“It's quite amusing, isn't it?” she bemused, her clawed fingers delicately picking a skyscraper from her toeclaw. “Those at the helm, making decisions, often find that destruction is the easy path towards progression. A planet in their way? Call the DS. A rival civilization a thorn in their side? Call the DS. The dystopia their forefather's missteps have created is too much to handle or an invading pest or disease threatens to wipe them out? You get the picture.”

With a flick of her finger, she sent the building tumbling into the ocean, causing a splash that had tidal waves hurtling towards the coast. “You see, a planet's lasting existence, in the grand cosmic scheme, is always in the hands of its people and its leaders. We....” She smirked, her eyes glinting with amusement, “...are merely the executioners they call upon.”

Lowering her foot back over the terrain, the enormous, sweat-glistening appendage blocked out the sun, casting a monstrous shadow over us once more. “So, to answer your question – our decision on which planets get to stay and which don't is simply determined by the contracts we undertake. Utterly professional, and always consensual.”

“Until of course,” Mrs. Drakher added, grinning wickedly as she wriggled her toes creating a gust of wind and a stronger wave of her foot odor, “we stumble upon a world that's too tempting to resist, ripe for some recreational destruction. We might then pose a proposition to its inhabitants... often in the form of a warning to evacuate.”

“Or sometimes, it's just a good old planet squishing. After all, we’re dragonesses who appreciate a certain... foot fetish. And what better canvas to indulge our passion than a lively, bustling planet?” She winked at the camera, her words a chilling promise of their unstoppable might and unforgiving feet.

"Thank you for that… insightful answer, Mrs. Drakher." I took a moment to compose myself; the intoxicating scent of her feet was indeed getting stronger as she flexed her toes and causing a slight feeling of lightheadedness. My next question followed, "Can you remember the first planet you personally ruined? How did that make you feel?"

Lilith paused to ponder the question, her vast turquoise eyes reflecting timeless memories and countless galaxies. Then, with a thunderous chuckle that sent ripples across the atmosphere, she replied, “Ahhh, my first planet… yes, I do remember. It was a tiny, but a lively world - vibrant, bustling and teeming with life.”

She took a slow intake of her gigantic cigarette holder, the eerie glow making her sharp features even more striking. She then blew out a monstrous cloud of black smoke that spread over kilometers above the ocean. The orange-red glow of the embers reflected in her eyes gave them a mischievous sparkle.

“There's something strangely exhilarating in feeling an entire civilisation living beneath your feet so lively and vibrant one moment, then silent and crushed the next. I remember the thrill of the moment, the first city squished beneath my sole, the rush of power as a second followed suit under my mighty heel.”

The image of a gargantuan foot crushing our world underfoot was unsettling, to say the least. As Mrs. Drakher nostalgically recounted her first planetary destruction, we could only imagine with dread.

She continued with her tale, “Then, of course, came the delicious surprise of feeling mountains crumble and oceans divide under my toes. There’s something uniquely satisfying about reducing a world to dust, I've come to savour each step, each squish, each delightful ripple of destruction.”

Her massive legs crossed, the ground quaking under the shift of her colossal body. Her bare toes flexed, showing off her beautiful foot claws as she squished an imaginary city beneath them. “Since then, I’ve only improved on my art. There’s still nothing quite like the feeling of a new planet beneath my feet, one untouched by our might. Total control – that’s what it boils down to. No one can stop us, no one can challenge us, and that, my little listeners, is power unlike any other.”

Her words served as a chilling reminder to all worlds that her path of devastation was more a performance of art than a simple act of annihilation. To be under her feet was not just to be dominated, but to be a part of an interstellar masterpiece.

“Perhaps one day,” she mused with a dragonish grin, looking directly down at our world frozen beneath her gaze, “we’ll have a similar conversation about your own planet.” The words sent a shiver down the spine of every last inhabitant of our world. We were being declared potential art material. To be under her foot was to exist at her whim, to be crushed should she desire it. We would either be forgotten in the deep recesses of the universe or remembered as a mesmerizing spectacle under the DS's feet. The thought was terrifying, thrilling and oddly enticing all at once.

One could only hope our fate lay elsewhere, for while her colossal soles – beautiful, dangerous, and drenched in sweat – were mesmerizing, it was a sight our world could do without. The resulting foot odor might be a signature of her glorious conquests and a testament to her immeasurable power, but it was a fragrance we'd rather pass on experiencing firsthand.

But one thing was clear; no plan or technology or bravery could safeguard a world once a Wyrm targeted it for her destructive pleasures or affairs. One could only hope it would be quicker than it was terrifying, a swift cosmic foot stomp, a one-way ticket to cosmic oblivion. As the interview proceeded, however, an undeniable truth remained: Lucine Drakher – alias Lilith, in all her terrifying grandeur and destructive splendor, was a being unlike any other.

As the planet trembled under her colossal form, and her foot scent enveloped the world, I knew it was time to end the interaction. To carry on was inviting either her mirth or her ire, either of which could spell disaster for us.

“Thank you for your time, Mrs. Drakher,” I began, my voice shaking, but resolute. “Your insight into the Drakher Society and your, ahem, unique approach to business has been enlightening.”

“For our final question, could you give us a hint at what the future holds for the Drakher Society. Are there any upcoming plans?”

At this, she paused, thoughtfully tapping a finger against her chin as she considered my question, her gaze turning towards the stars, her surreal turquoise eyes sparkling with an enigmatic light. “The future for the Drakher Society...?”

She laughed, a rich, rolling sound that vibrated through the atmosphere. “Oh, darling, the possibilities are endless.”

Stretching her colossal form on her gigantic chair and flexing her toes, she continued. “The universe is a big place filled with countless worlds, my dear, and we have all the time in it. As for upcoming plans... Well, let's just say we haven't stepped on our last planet.”

“After all,” she added, her eyes sparkling mischievously, “We've just barely stretched our legs.”

With a final flex of her toes and a kick, she stirred the atmosphere and caused a few unfortunate skyscrapers to topple on the coast, then she raised from her chair leaving massive footprints etched onto the continental shelf.

Signaling the end of the interview, she declared grandly, “I hope you enjoyed our little chat... I assure you, this planet won't be forgotten soon.”

Her laughter echoes in my ears even as the communication link fades, her final words sending chills down my spine: “Farewell, for now, but remember – size matters.”

The transmission ended, but her colossal figure remained for a moment, towering over the planet, her massive feet and their intoxicating scent leaving an indelible mark on our civilization, an evidence to the power and magnificence of the Wyrms of the Drakher Society. After all, as the saying goes: The Drakher Society always leaves an impression.

It was supposed to be just a simple interview, but it turned into a global event, and even though she has no plans to destroy our world just yet, her presence alone was enough to change the climate. But for now I have managed to avoid the apocalypse by asking the right questions.