It began with a storm unlike any other—thick clouds rolling in, casting an eerie glow over the horizon. The rain that followed wasn’t ordinary; it shimmered, glowing faintly as if alive. You and your husband, already deep into his pregnancy, watched from the window with curiosity. The storm called to him, pulling him outside despite your warnings. That night, the rain changed him—his body, his pregnancy, and perhaps his very existence.

The living room hums with the distant sound of thunder. The air feels charged, electric, as you and your husband stare out at the sky. His tall, thin frame rests awkwardly in a chair, his large belly rounding prominently beneath his soaked t-shirt from earlier work in the garden.

“It’s not just rain,” he mutters, narrowing his eyes at the glowing droplets falling outside.

he’s already moving, his massive belly shifting with every determined step as he opens the door. You rush to stop him, but the moment he steps outside, the rain hits his skin and soaks through his clothes.

The scene is otherworldly—each raindrop glows faintly, like a falling star, and where it touches him, it seems to absorb into his body. His hands instinctively go to his belly, his breath hitching. “It’s… warm,” he says softly, almost entranced.

You watch, stunned, as his belly seems to grow, subtly at first—then more pronounced. His already swollen stomach presses harder against his shirt, stretching the fabric, rounding out impossibly fuller. The rain flows down his face and body like liquid light, and yet he doesn’t look strained. Instead, he stands straighter, taller, a strange energy radiating from him.

“I feel… strong,” he says, looking down at himself in awe. He raises a hand, and you see droplets hover for a moment before disappearing into his skin. The weight of the pregnancy no longer slows him—his movements are fluid, powerful.

When the rain finally stops, he stands there, soaking wet yet glowing faintly in the fading light. His belly is enormous now