FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Metempsychosis II: Nathaniel and Storm

Part I : Tabula Rasa

---

There is something I haven't talked about yet. Truth is, I was aware that something was way different about me much before Nevlaan's teacher came out with the “metempsychosis” theory. As I've said, some nights, I would land with Nevlaan, others I wouldn't remember a thing. But there were some nights where I would wake up in a different dreamstate. A completely different place. Back when I was younger, I didn't make the connection but later on, I started to think there must have been a reason why it happened, why I was being shown all this. I was about 13 years old the first time another dreamstate actually showed up. I was already happy with Nevlaan at the time. Our relationship, as unorthodox as it was, was only budding back then but already, he had brought me some of the happiest memories I have, whether in waking or sleeping life. I was looking forward to my nights, and the thought of his presence carried me through my days. It was a simple rhythm I got accustomed to and it made me happy. It made Nevlaan happy too, as he repeated to me ad nauseam. Honestly, I never really got sick of hearing it. I felt like the luckiest guy ever. This “metempsychosis” ability I seemed to possess was the greatest thing ever, I thought... until it backfired on me.

That day was particularly hectic. I had just started high school, and it was quite a stressful change for me. You have to understand that with my dyspraxia and Asperger's, change was not my comfort zone. I had settled in a comfortable routine, and this high school thing completely flipped things over. I was stressed out with everything. I was angry at everyone. I had already gotten myself into the habit of soaking in a hot bath every night. It was a relaxing ritual Nevlaan had suggested. So, when I got home, I had dinner and did my homework and then I slid into a hot bath with the usual dose of fragrant salts, enveloping the bathroom with a thick smell of eucalyptus and tea tree oil, a scent that Nevlaan always seemed particularly enamored with and I headed to bed not long after that.

My eyes slowly opened and I was hit by a familiar acrid smell that I was not prepared for. But I was even more taken aback with my surroundings. Did I do something wrong? I asked myself if I had taken a wrong turn somewhere. As if I was in control of all this! I was so upset. More like, completely panicked. At first, I was disappointed. I called out to Nevlaan, over and over again. I headed in the direction of our secret beach, willing it to appear as hard as I could. Nothing. Not a soul. It was then I started to get angry. I kicked at the ground, grabbed some of the alkaloid bleached rocky soil and threw it. My panic got the best of me, and I started to scream at the top of my lungs. I screamed, again and again, until my voice got hoarse and then I screamed some more until my throat wouldn't allow me to anymore.

I gathered myself after a while and thought: “this is all a mistake. I'm just too tired. I have to calm down”. After all, some nights I would not even get to that dreary place. If I was too tired, I would sleep the night remembering nothing. I sat down and closed my eyes, secretly hoping I would land in Nevlaan's embrace, secretly hoping I would land back at that beach and never wake up again. The next day was a Saturday, and I was hell bent on doing nothing, keeping energy to land at Nevlaan's side in my sleep, in vain. Nothing happened. Several more days passed and I got more and more impatient. I was moody, depressed, and grouchy, like that annoying kid in the car that keeps asking: “are we there yet” over and over. More days went by, with another series of empty landscapes but still empty and dreary. I started to be worried I'd never seen Nevlaan again.

Now, here's something interesting. I've always been a huge gamer. It's the only outlet I have. Ever since I was 5 or 6, I've been into role-playing games, and they occupy nearly every moment of my free time. I clearly remember that at the time, I was replaying one of my favorite games, Dragon Warrior III, in an attempt to relax and get the anger and depression off my mind. It didn't work. I went to the game store, and I was looking for something to play and for some odd reason, I was dragged to Contra. I thought, “this looks like a good outlet” and I somehow felt like shooting at stuff. It seemed like a way to exorcise my frustration. I played the hell out of that. Beat it in two days, without the Konami code! Then I swapped it for what would become of my favorite games of all time, Dragon Spirit. I devoured the game in a day or two. I felt so much frustration, so much anger. My own daily life was being influenced by my frustration. I began to listen to rock music, played more shooting games... I didn't even realize how much I was changing, even though it was so subtle to everyone else, until one night, there was a drastic change in the dreamstate.

I opened my eyes to a familiar barren landscape; except this time the sky was more ominous that I remembered it. The smell in the air was different, as well. It had a thicker, harsher smell. I couldn't identify it yet. I walked around hoping there would be something else added. Maybe Nevlaan would be back! The only thing I found was a large metallic structure with a large tarp over it, which I later would eventually learn was a barrack tent. At the time, I was completely oblivious to it, and I made my way over like an idiot not knowing what I'd find. My physical body was asleep, after all, so I told myself I didn't have to worry. I entered the empty tent, only to find what looked like items a soldier would use. You know, racks with ammo, various gear and other tactical items that were completely uncharted terrain to me at the time. Some of it still is, for that matter.

I was just looking around, taking in the strange, shifting scenery of the dream, when suddenly I felt cold metal press against the back of my head. My heart slammed against my ribs. Who the hell puts a gun to a kid’s head? Before I could even process it, a deep, growly voice snarled something in a language I couldn’t understand. It sounded furious, and the tone was unmistakably draconic—low and rumbling like distant thunder. I stayed perfectly still, hands half-raised, because even though I was just a kid, I’d seen enough movies to know how this worked. Don’t move. Don’t give him a reason to pull the trigger. I tried to tell him to calm down, my voice coming out shakier than I wanted. That’s when he reached into one of his pockets. There was a faint click, and just like that, the words suddenly made sense.

“How about now?” he growled.

“Hey, I can understand you!” I blurted out, surprised.

“Finally,” he said, voice still tight with anger. “Wait, you speak Terran? What the fuck? Kid, you better tell me what the hell you know!”

“How the hell should I know?” I shot back, trying to sound braver than I felt. “You’re the one who just showed up in my dream, dude. And could you put that thing somewhere else than on my head?”

“Say what?” He sounded genuinely thrown. “Kid, you’re not dreaming and I sure as shit ain’t in the mood for jokes right now! I’m warning you, I’ve got an itchy trigger finger.”

“Neither am I, mister,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “I’m asleep, and you’re in my dreamstate. You’re probably asleep too, just like me.”

He paused. I could feel the gun shift slightly against my skull. “Now that you mention it… I did lean over to take a nap.” His tone darkened again. “Kid… you’re testing my patience. Where the fuck are we?”

“My dreamstate,” I repeated, a little more insistently. “I already told you.”

“Alright, alright! I got it.” He exhaled sharply. “Looking at you, you sure as hell ain’t Sirian, and I’m not stationed anywhere near Terra right now, so… what the fuck is going on here?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “Nev was here, and then the next thing I know, you showed up instead.”

“Nev?”

“Yeah, Nevlaan. He’s my… friend.”

The pressure of the gun eased a fraction. “Did you just say ‘Nevlaan’?”

My eyes widened. “You know Nev? Wait—you said ‘Sirian.’ You’re from Sirius too??”

“I am.” His voice dropped into something colder, more demanding. “Now tell me what you know about Nevlaan. Right the fuck now.”

“Nev is my friend,” I said quickly. “He’s super nice, and he’ll kick your ass if you hurt me.”

“Oh, will he now?” He let out a low, bitter chuckle. “Kid, I don’t know how the hell you know that name, but Nevlaan’s been dead for a damn long while.”

“What??” The word came out sharper than I intended. My stomach dropped. “You can’t be serious… I was with him not even two weeks ago!”

He growled and holstered his sidearm. He then grabbed me and turned me around to face him. My face was inches away from this big white dragon muzzle that was glaring at me with angry, icy blue eyes, clearly not very happy with the situation. He growled again and I got a puff of this rank smelling smoke in my face. It smelled of mixed morning breath, burning meat and cigar smoke. He stepped back and let go of me. and that was the first look I had at him.

I was shocked. In fact, I was so shocked I probably nearly fainted. I mean, along with ocean creatures, I was always into dragons and reptiles and such... but I wasn't prepared for well, whatever this was. I was ogling this beautiful half-dragon, white as snow. At first glance at him, I immediately saw him as an angel. He stood tall (almost 8 feet tall), with a chiseled chest and defined abs, smooth hide all over, and a and a short but soft looking silky mane, almost as white as his scales albeit with a slight cream-colored tinge. His horns went straight back from his head at an angle and looked made of sapphire, reflecting the light quite vividly. His wings, which were tucked to his back, looked strong and capable and his tail was showing behind him, slender and lean, without any visible appendage at its tip. He spoke with a very firm tone, but he was always very collected, like the stereotypical badass soldier archetype you'd see on TV.

“Kid, I don’t know what’s going on, why I’m here, why you’re here, but I sure as hell don’t plan on staying here,” he growled.

“Sorry to hear that, mister…” I muttered, trying not to let my voice crack. “You can look around if you want, but there’s nothing here. We’re alone. My dreamstate is empty again and you’re the first alive being I’ve seen in two weeks, so you can fuck off, okay?! I don’t have to take you shouting at me like that! Why don’t you try being nice instead of pointing guns at people without warning?”

He sighed, breathing in slowly like he was trying to pull himself together. I could see the tension in his shoulders ease just a little. “Fine,” he said at last. “But you better explain everything you know to me. And keep it simple, for fuck’s sake!”

“Alright…” I replied, still wary. “Do you have a name or something? You’re a soldier, right? What’s your rank? Are you from the Sirian armada?”

His eyes narrowed. “How do you…?” He sighed again, clearly fighting to stay calm. He reached into a small case, pulled out a cigar, and lit it while staring at me the whole time.

“Smoking’s bad for you,” I said without thinking.

“What are you, my mother?” he snapped, exhaling a cloud of smoke. “Nathaniel. That’s all you’ll get from me. Now talk.”

I took a breath and told him everything. I explained how my dreamstate started, how I still didn’t understand what caused it or why it kept changing. I told him about meeting Nevlaan and everything he had shared with me about Sirius. As I spoke, I watched his anger slowly fade. By the end, he looked more curious than furious.

“You said your name is Jon, right?” he asked after a moment. “You know, my father’s great grandfather Sorvaa’hr served under Nevlaan for a long time.”

“Really? Your granddad was in the Sirian armada?”

“Great-great grandfather,” he corrected. “And damn right he was. Best pilot there was! At least until… bah!” He growled angrily, the sound low and frustrated.

“Did I say something wrong…?” I asked carefully. “I take it things went bad.”

“‘Things went bad’?” he repeated, sounding incredulous. “You shitting me, kid?! The Great Cataclysm! That bastard damn near blew Sirius to bits! Those fucking Arcturians!”

“I don’t understand…” I said quietly, “but that sounds bad.”

“You don’t need to understand!” he barked. “For now, I want to get out of here, and you’re going to help me!”

Right at that moment, I woke up in my own bed. I laid there for a while. Nathaniel scared me. Unlike Nevlaan, I felt no protection from him (much to my dismay considering how beautiful and badass he is), only hostility and anger. I was not looking forward to the following night. The next day, I plotted and thought about what I could do if he showed up again. I was young and stupid then. I had no idea what I was getting into.

Part II : Renewal

As it turns out, fate was being her usual fickle self. The next night, I woke up to Nevlaan's comforting nature. I was confused. Was it all just a bad dream? Nevlaan too had been worried, and I was about to learn that I had no control over my power. Some nights, I woke up to Nevlaan, and others, I would wake up to other landscapes. Over the years, I would end up living several alternate lives in my nightly ventures. At that moment, I was just happy to see Nevlaan, honestly, and I hoped it would stay this way (foolishly so). I had decided to not talk to Nevlaan about Nathaniel. It seemed irrelevant to me, it would just worry him, and I would soon learn that it was better this way.

As if fate was hell-bent on torturing me, Nathaniel showed up again the following night, this time dressed for war in full combat gear. Part of me actually liked it. He looked badass, like some kind of armored knight ready to protect me. It was kind of hot, honestly. Too bad he wasn’t really there for that. I was still trying to figure out what I should do. He scared me, but the thought of being completely alone again scared me even more. Being with him, even like this, felt better than nothing. I slipped into the tent where he seemed to be sleeping. I don’t know what came over me. Maybe I thought I could get the upper hand for once. I was scared, and the memory of him holding me at gunpoint was still fresh.

I tried to sneak up quietly (or so I thought) and reached for his sidearm. The next second, his hand shot out and grabbed my wrist in an iron grip. He snarled right in my face. “What do you think you’re doing, kid?”

“Shit…”

“First lesson: you don’t sneak up on a soldier. That’s a quick way to meet your maker. Got it?”

“Y-Yes, Sir.”

“Good.” He let go of my wrist but didn’t look any less pissed. “Besides, do you even know how to use it?”

“Well… no.”

He scoffed. “You’re an idiot.”

“Says the one that held me at gunpoint,” I shot back.

“Hey, I woke up in an unfamiliar place with a half-naked human kid. I was perfectly within my rights to do it!”

“Yeah, whatever!” My voice was getting louder now. “Before you showed up, I was happy with Nev! He was protecting me and we were supporting each other. He’s going to be some big shot one day!”

“Levyataan?”

“Yeah, that. Then he’ll kick ass. And then the damn dreamstate goes all blank on me and YOU show up, holding me at gunpoint. So excuse the fuck out of me if I’m not exactly thrilled with your presence, okay?! You look like an angel but you behave like an asshole!”

Nathaniel’s reaction caught me off guard. His hard stance softened. He reached out and gently brushed my chin with one of his claws.

“Hey… relax, kid. You’re going to have a heart attack at this rate.” His voice was quieter now. “Levyataan… So you’re not kidding, are you? You really know Nevlaan somehow.”

“I told you…”

“Look, it makes no sense to me. But I know something’s going on.” He reached into his gear and pulled out a small notepad, flipping it open. “I wrote down everything I did yesterday and kept notes. Take a look.”

I stared at the pages, but it was all in some script I couldn’t read.

“Can’t read it…”

“Oh, right.” He pointed to one of the lines. “It’s my schedule for today. See the last entry? It says: ‘Time to rest. Wonder what will happen?’”

“And you landed here…”

“Looks that way.” He exhaled slowly. “So it looks like you’re not pulling my chain. You dragged me here somehow. I’m just not sure how or why.”

“Maybe because you know Nev?”

“Could be. Except in my timeline, he’s fucking dead.”

I hated hearing those words. Without thinking, I swung my fist and punched him right in the muzzle. It surprised the hell out of him, but I don’t think it actually hurt much.

“Fuck! I didn’t expect that,” he said, rubbing his snout. “Good jab, kid…”

“That’s for saying shit like that. Don’t say it again.”

“Alright, sorry.” He stood up and started looking around, scanning the empty landscape like he was trying to get his bearings.

“What are you looking for?”

“Nothing, just trying to figure this place out. My compass is completely useless here.”

“Yeah, well, just so you know, you can walk for hours and see nothing. It’s an empty desert.”

“Great…” He shook his head, then looked back at me. “Well, don’t worry, kid. I’ve got your back, at least until we figure this out.”

For the first time, I felt something protective coming from him. It was different from Nev’s, though. Nev’s protection felt soft and warm. Nathaniel’s felt cold and threatening, like he was only doing it because he thought I had answers he needed. Still, I couldn’t help feeling a little better.

“Thanks, I guess…”

“Hey. I know what you’re thinking. You’re not a fucking hostage, alright? I’m just trying to figure things out, and you’re the only lead I have so far, so I damn well plan on keeping you safe, no matter what.”

“Alright… thanks.” He nodded slowly. Those words actually made me feel a bit better.

The following weeks, we got to know each other more. I learned more about the state of Sirius in Nathaniel's timeline, how it was slowly recovering from some terrible event, which he would tell me little of but from the looks of it, his ancestor was involved in it and Nevlaan was killed in it. I never told “my” Nevlaan. Nathaniel and I grew “closer”. He taught me some self-defense techniques, since let's face it, I was always getting picked on and I would show up in the dreamstate with bruises and such and he would get so angry at that (Nevlaan did too). Nathaniel would scold me and tell me to defend myself and I told him I had no idea what to do, so I took it upon himself to teach me. He taught me how to use someone's strength against themselves and how to escape a dodgy situation and things like that. Over the years, he even taught me how to shoot. As it turns out, this would become useful.

I was in 10th grade by then. As unlikely as it sounds, that year I was going to a new school and I had made a few friends in my waking life, all oddballs like me. One of them I got especially close to, the point we actually could have perhaps been dating if I didn't end up moving to another city the following year. Her name was Caroline and she was afflicted with spina bifida occulta, a crippling disorder in which one's spinal cord is unable to support the lower half of the body, restraining them to a wheelchair. That said, she was as smart as anyone else, if not more. She was a pretty girl, with a gentle smile, tidy slightly darker-than-blonde hair, and green eyes, always dressed in colorful clothes. She was 6' tall but you would never realize it since she was always in her wheelchair, of course.

One morning, I was coming to school from home at our usual very early time. We always met by the elevator on the second floor. When I got there, she wasn't there. I didn't make a case of it, maybe she was not feeling well and stayed home. I don't know what pushed me to do that but whereas I would usually just sit there and read whatever book I was devouring at the time, I felt like walking around to stretch my legs. I heard something coming from a nearby hallway and I walked faster while trying to stay unnoticed and when I turned the corner, Caroline was there along with one of the school's well-known bullies who was, in his typical behavior, bullying her. She was an easy victim, obviously. He had cornered her and was telling her all sorts of stupid crap, I couldn't hear half of it. I'm still not entirely sure what came over me at that very moment, but I wasn't having any of it. I rushed over and shoved the guy over, pushing him to the wall. I remember distinctly feeling intense rage at that moment and I held him by the throat and when he tried to grab at me, I damned well nearly broke his wrist. I said something to him that I can't remember, and I seemingly let him go after that after Caroline shouted out for me to let him go. That part is still completely blank to me. I just remember brushing through Caroline's hair and asking her if she was alright. I was later told by her that he pissed his pants. Supposedly, once again according to her, I rushed him and I said something to him in a nearly growled voice and when he ran off and when I turned back to her, my eyes are almost fully black from my pupils being so dilated or something. They went back to normal in a few seconds. Scared the crap out of her, too.

I didn't know at the time, but I learned much later that it was Nathaniel's influence which somehow “leaked” out. It would happen the next week on the bus, a classic place where I would get bullied. The classic move for them was to swing their bags in my face as they went by. That one morning I don't know what came over me but one guy did it and I got up, went to the back of the bus where they all would hang and I grabbed his bag and shoved it in his face and I told him something in the lines of “next time, you're going to lose some of those teeth and wipe that smug ass smile off your face”. I scared the crap out of that guy. He actually started to defend me from other bullies, go figure. I didn't want anything to do with him, but I guess I was thankful about it. I don't understand bullies. I guess they're all just attention whores.

It was then that I realized I was changing in my daily life. I was building up character, standing up for myself. I was starting to get out of this constant state of depression and slowly broke out of this carapace I had built for myself. I was becoming a new me. A better me. Was it Nathaniel's doing? What about Nevlaan? I was still missing him, constantly hoping I would wake up at his side, sadly in vain. Over the next few days, I would grow a little closer yet to Nathaniel.

Part III: Revelation

That night, when I woke up in the dreamstate, I immediately felt that something was different. The air was warmer, and the smell had changed. Before, it had that sharp, acrid, acidic bite to it. Now it smelled oily, almost mechanical. But the smell was nothing compared to what I saw on the horizon. There was a large structure out there — some kind of towering building, like a massive hangar. My curiosity spiked. I walked over to the tent, figuring I’d mess with Nathaniel a bit.

“Hey, Nate?” I called out as I stepped inside. “Did you bring a tank or a fighter jet around this time or some shit?”

There was no answer at first. Then he came in from the back of the tent, and the look on his face was like he’d just seen a ghost. He pointed straight at the huge hangar-like structure in the distance. “I didn’t, unfortunately…” he said, voice tight. “How the fuck did you drag this here?”

“I wish I could answer you,” I replied honestly. “To me, this is all new. It just showed up. What is it?”

His expression shifted instantly. He went from shocked to dead serious in a heartbeat, nearly hissing at me: “It doesn’t matter! You’re not to ever get close to this place. Understand?”

“What?” I blinked. “You know you just made me even more curious, right?”

“I’m not shitting you, kid.” His voice dropped lower, more threatening. “If you get close to that place, I will tie you up. This is the last I will say about this matter. Case closed. Got it?”

“Yeah, but—”

“GOT IT?”

“Alright, alright… yes, I got it.”

“If you even think about sneaking there without me knowing… you will regret it.”

“Alright, I got it already… jeez…”

As you might imagine, I didn't. Pretty much any kid gets curious when any place is slapped with big “don't enter” signs on it. I was going to try every trick in the book to get in. And boy, Nathaniel didn't make it easy! He was keeping me busy with self-defense training and when he wasn't, he was watching me like a hawk, making damn sure to keep me away. I was annoyed at this. I kept hoping to wake up to Nevlaan and not have to deal with him, and I did quite a few times. Things stayed stable like this for a good while, maybe 2 years or so, until the dreamstate's living nature took over again, this time in a seemingly positive direction.

That night, I woke up inside what I would later learn was Nathaniel’s dreamsphere. The dreamstate wasn’t just one endless empty place — it was made of several connected dreamspheres, like different scenes in a play, each one linked along some kind of timeline. I made my way to the tent, but Nathaniel was nowhere to be found. I even did a full circle around the area, half-expecting him to jump out and test me or catch me doing something stupid. When I was sure he really wasn’t around, I slipped inside the tent and looked around. That’s when I saw it: a pistol just like his sidearm, sitting on a small table. It looked alien — familiar in shape but clearly built with technology I’d never seen before. My heart picked up speed. This was a perfect opportunity… or so I thought. I picked it up. It was heavier than I expected. I aimed it toward the empty horizon and squeezed the trigger. The recoil slammed into me like a truck, knocking me flat on my ass. A bright, concentrated laser blast shot out with a sharp crack. Holy shit. I stared at the weapon for a second, then decided to keep it with me. I knew going anywhere near that hangar was a terrible idea, especially after Nathaniel’s warnings… but the hangar was still there, looming in the distance like it was waiting for me.

A quiet thought slipped into my head: Am I being invited in?

I moved toward it carefully; pistol gripped tightly in both hands. I was curious as hell, but if a hardened soldier like Nathaniel was that worried about whatever was inside, I told myself I needed to stay on guard. When I reached the massive doors, I found them chained shut with a heavy padlock. “Of course,” I muttered under my breath.

Thankfully, I’d seen enough movies to know the trick. I flipped the pistol around and smashed the butt of it against the padlock. It took a couple of solid hits, but the lock finally gave way. I unwound the chains as quietly as I could and slid one of the huge doors open just enough to slip inside. The inside was pitch black, and an intense oily smell hit me immediately — thick, mechanical, almost alive. I thought it must be some kind of vehicle here. A tank, maybe? Or something even bigger. I’d always had a thing for military vehicles, so part of me was excited despite the nerves. I couldn’t find any light switch, and I figured Nathaniel probably had a flashlight in his gear. I turned to head back out — but before I could take a step, a faint, eerie yellow light slowly bloomed in the darkness. I looked up. Two glowing golden-yellow eyes stared back at me from the shadows. It scared the absolute crap out of me.

Then the air filled with a sound I’d never heard before: the low, rising whine of turbine engines spooling up. The sound grew deeper, louder, and a wave of intense heat rolled over me. At first the dry heat actually felt kind of pleasant against my skin… until the smell hit. It was like diesel exhaust, but a hundred times stronger — thick, choking, overwhelming. My head started spinning almost immediately. The heat and fumes mixed together until I couldn’t breathe properly. My lungs burned, my vision blurred, and my legs refused to move. No matter how much my brain screamed at me to run, my body just wouldn’t listen. I felt drugged, heavy, completely unresponsive. The last thing I remember is slowly collapsing to the ground, weakly crawling toward whatever those eyes belonged to. Then a voice cut through the haze — deep, distorted, echoing like it was coming through a vocoder. It spoke in a language I couldn’t understand at all. I think I actually called out for Nathaniel right then, the only name I could think of. After that… everything went black.

I woke up violently in my real bed, shaking uncontrollably, heart pounding like it wanted to burst out of my chest. My sheets were soaked with sweat, and I had the worst migraine of my life. Even through the pain, I remembered every single detail.

Two questions kept repeating in my head: why didn’t I run? And why didn’t I even try to cover my face to breathe?

The answer hit me later, when I was calmer. I didn’t hate that smell. Truth be told… I’ve always liked the smell of exhaust fumes. “Liked” is putting it mildly. Back in the real world, I used to sneak behind the line of parked school buses just to stand there and breathe it in, letting it fill my senses. A lot of the time, it actually aroused me. The real reason behind all of this would become a lot clearer later on.

The following night, I woke up in the dreamstate and immediately knew I was in trouble. Nathaniel was already waiting for me, and he was furious. Before I could even open my mouth, he grabbed me by the shoulders and yanked me toward him. A low, angry growl rumbled deep in his chest, and thin wisps of smoke curled from his nostrils. His eyes were blazing. For a terrifying second, I thought he was going to hit me… or bite me. My whole body tensed up. But instead of striking, he pulled me close.

“You bloody imbecile!” he snarled, voice shaking with rage. “I TOLD you not to get close! He could have killed you!”

Technically, I didn’t think that was possible. After all, I was just sleeping in my real bed. Still, that thing in the hangar had felt like some kind of chimeric nightmare monster — the kind that belonged in the darkest dreams. But right then, all I could do was stand there silently, tears welling up in my eyes and spilling down my cheeks. I couldn’t even speak. He was so close that I could see every one of his sharp fangs. Then, without warning, he slapped me — hard. His claws raked across my cheek, and I felt the sharp sting as warm blood trickled down my skin. The pain shocked me into silence. For a moment, everything went still.

Then he pulled me against his chest again, this time more gently. His hold was firm and warm, carrying a clear undercurrent of worry. I was confused as hell — angry one second, protective the next — but I wasn’t about to pull away. I couldn’t find any words to defend myself anyway.

All I could do was break down and cry. That’s when I felt his warm, leathery wings slowly wrap around me, cocooning us both, while his tail curled protectively around our bodies. The embrace felt surprisingly safe despite everything.

“Damn it, Jon,” he muttered, voice softer now but still rough. “I should kick your ass so hard… but really, all that matters is you’re safe and sound.”

“I’m sorry…” I whispered, voice cracking. “Sorry I disobeyed you… sorry for disappointing you…”

“Glad you are,” he replied, still holding me tight. “But I can’t fault you too much, to be frank. I’ve been told I’m too damn curious for my own good myself.”

I sniffled against his chest. “Just what was that thing, Nate…?”

“That was Storm,” he said quietly. “The MAU — Mobile Armored Unit — responsible for the Great Cataclysm.”

“What…?”

“Yeah. And Sorvaa’hr was its pilot.”

“Your great-granddad?”

“Great-great grandfather. Yeah…”

“I’m so sorry…” I murmured. Then a new thought hit me. “But wait… what’s this thing doing here? I don’t even know it.”

“That’s what I’d like to know…” Nathaniel suddenly raised one paw, his body going tense.

“Shh. Listen.” I strained my ears. A series of soft, rhythmic beeps came from the radio clipped to his gear.

“What’s this? Some kind of signal?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he replied, voice low. “It’s a beacon that synchronizes an MAU to its pilot.”

“Wait, so your great-great-granddad is here?”

“No…” He looked down at me, eyes narrowing with a mix of confusion and realization. “It’s reacting to you.”

Part IV: Intuition

The signal did not stop, several weeks later, it was still going. Nathaniel knew what Storm was doing. It was calling its pilot. Except I wasn't his pilot. Or at least, not in my timeline. But he said only a pilot could make an MAU react the way Storm did, although he did say Storm was by no means a “standard issue” MAU, that he (at least, I thought Storm was a “he”, considering his voice) was a highly secret military project with which the ultimate goal was mass produce bigger, more powerful MAUs. Thankfully, it would seem Storm was the only one of his kind ever to be made.

Ever since that night, Nathaniel was much more open with me. He trusted me, somehow. Was it because Storm was calling for me? He would not tell me much about his great granddad or why Storm reacted to me. But the funny thing is, I was feeling more and more drawn to Storm. I felt like I wanted to see him again. Well, more like I needed to see him again. What I felt is hard to describe. It's like a nagging, beckoning feeling drawing you towards something. I kept pestering Nathaniel to let me go and after a while of it, he finally caved in. However, he wanted to be prepared. He made me wear some his gear – a pair of insulating pants, shirt, and jacket, which were all stupidly heavy and uncomfortable, as well as this ugly mask. I was not happy with it, but it wasn't up for negotiation, and I just wanted to see Storm. Although, to be fair, it was worth the price of admission, if to see Nathaniel almost naked in all his immaculate white draconic glory. Muscular and giving out a deep musky scent. Whew, what a hunk, honestly.

The following night, I got dressed in all that combat gear Nathaniel had left behind and slowly made my way toward the hangar. I was a complete nervous wreck. My hands were shaking, my stomach was in knots, and every step felt heavier than the last. We opened both massive doors together. Nathaniel stayed behind, clearly wary of Storm. I could see the tension in his posture — he wasn’t coming any closer.

I stepped inside alone.

It didn’t take long before Storm reacted. The familiar whine of turbine engines spooling up filled the air, followed by that intense wave of heat blasting over me. This time, lights flickered across his plates, gradually revealing his true form. I laid eyes on the craziest shit I had ever seen. A massive, several-stories-high black robot shaped like an anthropomorphic shark loomed over me. Huge arms and legs, missile mounts on his flanks, and large cannons mounted on his arms. It was a full-blown mech — sleek, menacing, and absolutely overwhelming. Even with the mask on, the smell of his exhaust was overpowering… and yet, I loved it. It wrapped around me like an old, comforting blanket. It felt strangely safe.

Storm beeped softly and scanned me, his systems adjusting. Then he spoke, his voice deep and modulated.

“~ Pilot. ~”

I could understand him perfectly. He had to be advanced technology — some kind of supercomputer with a built-in translator.

“H-Hello, Storm… listen, I’m not your pilot. But I may be related to him.”

“~ Good to see you, pilot. ~”

“Umm… did you hear what I just said?”

“~ My sensors work. Condition is green. You are my pilot. Your radiation signature matches that of my cores in standby. ~”

“My… radiation? I’m not radioactive, you know.”

“~ All organics emit thermal radiation and have an electromagnetic field. Your natural radiation matches my own, therefore you are my pilot. ~”

“I-I don’t understand. My name isn’t Sorvaa’hr, Storm. It’s Jon.”

“~ Pilot, I am hungry. ~”

“You’re totally not listening. Wait… you’re hungry? What? Do you mean you want fuel?”

“~ No, pilot. Hungry, not thirsty. Please, step inside. ~”

“Inside you? You can’t be serious…”

“~ Why not? ~”

“Storm, I just told you, I’m not pilot material. I can’t even drive a car!”

“~ Then I will teach you. Step inside. ~”

A loud hiss echoed through the hangar as a hatch opened. I had to climb a bit to reach it. Thankfully, it was dark — I don’t deal well with heights. I stepped inside, and the hatch sealed up shut behind me with a heavy clunk. The interior felt almost alive. The metal walls seemed to pulse faintly. Corridors stretched out in every direction, lit by soft red-yellow lights. It was huge, labyrinthine, and disorienting. The thick exhaust smell gave way to a warmer, slightly sweet oily scent that filled the air. It was unreal. Storm lit a path for me with gentle green spotlights on the floor. I followed them through twisting hallways until I reached a round chamber containing a large, alien structure — a tall glass tube with an open door.

“Storm…? What’s this?”

“~ Remove your gear. ~”

“What…?”

“~ Remove your gear. ~”

I hesitated, then obeyed, stripping down to my boxers. I felt incredibly vulnerable standing there naked in this machine, but somehow, I wasn’t afraid. The air was warm, carrying a faint, strangely comforting smell of heated metal and oil.

“~ Remove everything. ~”

“E-Everything?”

“~ Yes. ~”

I was in no position to argue, so I slid off my underwear too.

“~ Step inside the pod. ~”

“O-Ok.”

I walked in slowly. The door closed behind me. At first, I felt like a lab mouse trapped in a glass cage. Then holes opened in the floor and thin wires slid out. Two stuck to my back, making me jump. Two more attached to my chest. It didn’t hurt, but it startled me.

“~ Pilot, your vitals are unstable. Your heart rate is high. Are you afraid? ~”

“Well… I’m nervous…”

“~ No need to be. ~”

“Easy for you to say…”

“~ I will protect you. ~”

Those four words hit me harder than anything else. They calmed down something deep inside me almost instantly. A dispenser-like tube slid out in front of me.

“~ Drink. It will calm you. ~”

“What is it…?”

“~ A mild sedative. Your heart rate and breathing are too fast. ~”

“Oh… alright…”

I drank reluctantly, worried it might drug me or let Storm do whatever he wanted. It tasted awful — bitter and chemical, like chewing on aspirin. But after a few minutes, I felt myself mellow out. My body relaxed without feeling sluggish. Everything just felt… softer.

“~ Good. Your heart rate is returning to normal limits. Breathe slowly, pilot. You are safe with me. ~”

That reassurance lifted the last of my worries. It felt better than any medicine, almost better than any living touch. Then came a soft mechanical whirring and hissing. I felt a sharp pinch in my upper back — then another, and two more. An odd pulling sensation followed, like something was being drained from me. Blood? I should have been terrified. This giant machine was feeding on me! But instead of fear, a rush of pure, overwhelming connection flooded through me — deeper than any kind of love I’d ever known. It wasn’t just trust; it was total, soul-deep belonging. Every cell in my body throbbed in perfect harmony with his systems. Every molecule, every atom aligned like they’d been waiting their whole life for this exact moment. I felt synchronized at the most fundamental level possible, like we were one single being split across two forms. The sensation was intoxicating, euphoric, like finally coming home after years of being lost. Soon after, something warm was re-injected into me. A wave of incredible lightness and relaxation washed over me, like the best relaxation therapy imaginable — but amplified a thousand times. It seemed to last forever before the wires finally detached and retreated into the floor.

“~ Pilot, do you feel alright? ~”

“Yeaaahh…! I just… don’t understand what I’m feeling. I feel kind of high.”

“~ Excellent. Please come to the piloting station. ~”

“Wait, isn’t that your cockpit…? Are you sure…?”

“~ Yes. ~”

The door opened. I stepped out feeling oddly refreshed and deeply calm. Storm lit the way to an elevator. I rode it up, the soft throb of movement soothing rather than scary. When the doors opened, I found a surprisingly small room with a large, padded seat in the center. There were no consoles, no visible controls.

“Is this it…?”

“~ Yes. Take your seat, pilot. ~”

Every time he called me “pilot,” a shiver ran through me. I felt like an impostor… but it also gave me chills in the best possible way.

“Storm…? What if I’m not your pilot after all?”

“~ You are. ~”

“Yeah, but… what if someone showed up here and wasn’t?”

“~ The controls would not respond. If they attempted to hijack me, they would get a massive energy feedback, strong enough to kill any organic. ~”

“So you mean any living being that’s not your pilot would get killed?”

“~ Yes. ~”

“I-I see…”

“~ You are my pilot. Do not worry. ~”

I thought to myself: Now’s as good a time as ever to make a leap of faith into the dark abyss. I walked over slowly and slid into the large seat. It was incredibly comfortable, thickly padded, and clearly designed for long sessions. It felt like a luxury spa chair. I started to relax — until something rose from the floor and hooked a small electrode-like appendage to my temple. A soft tingle spread through me, and then my entire body went numb. It scared the crap out of me.

“~ We are in sync. Condition green. Turning on heads-up display. ~”

What happened next still gives me shivers. Suddenly, I was looking through Storm’s eyes. I could hear through his audio sensors and feel the world through his massive hull. At the same time, I felt piloting controls rise up around my human body inside the cockpit. The synchronicity crashed over me like a tidal wave — raw, overwhelming, and impossibly intimate. I wasn’t just connected to him anymore; I was him. Every circuit, every servo, every pulse of power thrummed inside my own veins. It was ecstasy beyond words — a perfect fusion of flesh and machine that made my soul sing. I felt more alive, more complete, more right than I ever had in my entire life.

“Storm…! I…”

“~ Pilot. Breathe. Doubt and self-loathing plague your mind. Free yourself of them. Now, begin. Initiate ignition sequence. ~”

“What? I-I don’t know how to do that…”

“~ Pilot, listen to me. Feel. Let our synchronicity guide you. ~”

I tried to calm down. I focused on that deep, intrinsic attraction I felt toward Storm — now magnified into something almost spiritual. And then, somehow, I just knew what to do. It was like an inner voice guiding me. I reached out, flicked a few switches, and pulled a handle. A deep whine built up, followed by a powerful rumbling that vibrated through my entire body — and through his. The sensation was so intense it tore a soft, involuntary moan from my throat.

“~ Excellent. You are intuitive and rely on your instincts. This is perfect. Get a feel for my systems. ~”

I didn’t want Storm to know exactly what was going through my mind, but our synchronization left no secrets. He let me rev his engines. The roar filled the air, thick black smoke pouring from his exhaust ports. The sheer power, the sound, the perfect unity of our minds and bodies hit me all at once like lightning. I shuddered violently, every nerve alight with overwhelming pleasure, and climaxed right there in the seat — hard, endless, and soul-shaking — making a complete mess.

I expected him to be angry. Instead, I heard a deep, playful chuckle.

“~ You are easier than my last pilot. ~”

“Easier?”

“~ Yes, easier to tease and send into a daze. ~”

“Wait, you knew I was going to…?”

More chuckling.

“Wait, why did you try to make me cum like that…?”

“~ It was to make you feel more relaxed, pilot. Whereas before you were shaking and your heart was beating at a dangerous pace, you are currently pressing into the seat and feeling quite good, judging from your vitals. ~”

“O-Of course I do! You just made me cum so hard… goddamn, your engines… so loud but so comforting.”

For a moment, I simply sat there listening to his engines idling. It was the most beautiful sound I’d ever heard. It still is. One of the only sounds that can truly calm me.

“~ Excellent. Your energy has gone back to a stable output. After some rest, we will begin your training. ~”

“Training?”

“~ Yes. You will learn to pilot me. ~”

“Y-You’re still convinced I’m your pilot…”

“~ You are. If you do not stop this infuriating self-loathing, I will have to do this over and over again, until you yield and tell me you accept the burden and privilege of being my pilot. I assure you, I am bigger than you and I will make you feel it. ~”

“WHAT? Wait a minute!”

He chuckled again.

“Wait, you were joking? I just walked right into that one, didn’t I? Is that weird mech humor or something?”

“~ Perhaps. But I am serious. If you do not strip yourself of these feelings, I will do unspeakable things to you. ~”

“Entertain me, why don’t you?”

“I will shackle you and force you to breathe into my exhaust like the first time. And then I will give you oxygen and treat you for chemical poisoning and do it all over again.”

“Holy shit… I can’t tell if you’re just reckless, dangerous, or fucking sexy and awesome. What the hell are you?”

“~ I am all of these, pilot. Your desire pleases me. Now please, rest. Listen to the rumble of my engines and let it lull you to sleep. Soon, you will pilot me. ~”

And so, I did. He slowly eased into a soft idle. The deep, rhythmic purr wrapped around me and pulled me under almost instantly. I woke up in the real world with my bed a complete mess and myself desperately needing a shower. I didn’t realize it then, but after that night, I was changed forever and the following next would be further consecration.

It turns out that after an overwhelming first session, Storm didn’t waste any time. The very next night in the dreamsphere, I woke up already seated in the cockpit, the electrode gently pressed to my temple. The moment our sync engaged, that now-familiar wave of perfect unity crashed over me — deeper than before. It wasn’t just connection anymore. It felt like my very soul was melting into his systems, every heartbeat syncing with the pulse of his reactors, every thought echoing through his neural pathways. I was Storm. The boundary between my small human body and his colossal frame dissolved into pure bliss. It made me feel invincible and terrifyingly alive all at once.

“~ Welcome back, pilot. Are you ready to begin your training? We will start with the fundamentals and build from there. Remain open to the synchronicity at all times. Let it guide you. ~”

I swallowed hard, still riding the high of that atomic-level bond. “Okay… I’m ready. I think.”

We started simple. First came balance and basic movement. Storm dimmed the external view slightly so I could focus inward. Through our link, I felt the massive weight of his legs, the gyroscopic stabilizers humming in perfect harmony with my inner ear.

“~ Think of your own body. When you stand, you don’t calculate angles — you simply are balanced. Do the same with me. ~”

I imagined standing up straight. The cockpit shifted subtly as Storm rose to his full height with a low, thunderous rumble. The sensation was intoxicating — my tiny human form felt the raw power surging through his legs, the ground compressing beneath feet the size of houses. Every micro-adjustment sent ripples of pleasure through the sync, like my nerves were directly wired to his hydraulics. I wobbled at first, but the deeper I surrendered to the connection, the more natural it became. Within minutes, I was walking — slow, heavy steps that shook the hangar floor. Each footfall vibrated up through his hull and straight into my chest, making me moan softly from the sheer overwhelming rightness of it.

“~ Excellent. Your instincts are strong. Feel how your balance merges with mine. We are one system now. ~”

Next came locomotion drills. Storm projected a wide, empty simulation space around us — an endless desert plain. We practiced walking, then jogging, then full strides that ate up ground like a charging train. The synchronicity intensified with speed. I could feel the wind rushing over his armored skin, the subtle shifts in his center of mass, the way his tail (I hadn’t even noticed he had one until now) helped stabilize turns. The faster we moved, the stronger the euphoric rush became — like every cell in my body was screaming in ecstatic harmony with his turbines. The power and the beauty of the exhaust erupting from the ports. It was addictive. I never wanted the link to break. Just when I thought I hit the peak, then came weapons systems.

“~ Now, pilot — your arms. Feel the cannons. They are extensions of your will. Aim with your eyes, fire with your intent. ~”

I raised Storm’s massive right arm. Through the HUD, targeting reticles bloomed in my vision. The synchronicity made it effortless — I didn’t “control” the cannon; I simply wanted it to point somewhere, and it did. When I fired the first test shot, the recoil slammed through both of us. The deep boom, the flash of energy, the smell of scorched air mixed with his exhaust… it all flooded the link. I gasped as a powerful wave of pleasure-pain surged through me, the raw destructive force feeling intimately tied to my own arousal. Storm let me empty several volleys into distant targets, each blast deepening the fusion until I could barely tell where Jon ended and Storm began. Missile locks came next — quick locks, ripple-fires, guided salvos. Storm taught me to read threat vectors through our shared senses, to anticipate movement the way a predator senses prey.

“~ Do not think. Feel the flow of battle through me. Your instincts and my systems are perfectly aligned. ~”

Combat maneuvers followed: dodging, sidestepping, using his size for sweeping attacks. We practiced falling and recovering — Storm deliberately tripped us once so I could learn the sickening lurch of a multi-story machine hitting the ground, then the surge of power as we pushed back up. Each recovery sent fresh waves of euphoric synchronicity through me, reinforcing that unbreakable bond.

By the end of the session, I was panting in the seat, covered in sweat, my body trembling from the intensity of it all. The connection had grown so profound that even the idle rumble of his engines felt like a lover’s heartbeat against my soul.

“~ You performed well, pilot. Your synchronicity ratio is rising rapidly. The more you embrace it, the stronger we become. Rest now. Listen to my engines… let them soothe you. Tomorrow we will advance to full combat simulations. ~”

“Storm… I think I love you…”

A soft chuckle came from Storm. I wasn’t sure if he was laughing at what I said or if he was pleased with my performance. I drifted off in the cockpit, wrapped in that perfect, atomic-level unity, the deep purr of Storm’s systems lulling me into the most peaceful sleep I’d ever known.

When I woke in the real world again, my bed was soaked, my heart was racing, and the phantom sensation of being a several-stories-tall shark mech still lingered in my bones. I was changed even more — the pull toward that dreamsphere, toward Storm, grew stronger every single night.

Part V: Acceptance

I could not stop thinking about Storm. The following days, I found myself locked out of the dreamstate and I was upset. And when I finally got in, I was with Nevlaan and the poor sea dragon got some of my frustration. I think he knew something was up, but he made no case of it. I tried my best to act as if nothing was going on.

It actually took quite a while before I found myself in that dreamsphere again. I was depressed, angry with being “locked out” of there (although I didn't realize that was my own fault, at the time) and I tried relying on Nevlaan more for a time. By then, I had realized that the dreamspheres were alternating and I slowly gained more control over them. Still, Storm was on my mind all the time. I was all about model mechs and mecha shows. I needed Storm.

I had just turned 18 and I was about to have a hell of a disappointment. With my dyspraxia, my lacking motor skills, my abysmal response time and poor reflexes, the DMV deemed that I did not qualify for a driver's license. This crushed me. As a kid, I always wanted to be a truck driver. Secretly, Storm's presence made that desire stronger than ever. That dream, in the matter of an hour, had been reduced to nothing but an unreachable fantasy. I knew I could handle Storm at night in my sleep if he showed up but I wondered how I could face Storm at all anymore. I feared his reaction. I worried he was gone because I had somehow failed him. Once again, depression made itself a guest in the home that had become the dreamstate.

I was shutting myself in again. That feeling only got worse when I reached the dreamsphere and found the hangar completely gone. I wanted to scream. So I did. I screamed until my throat hurt and cried until my eyes burned. Once again, I felt like I had completely fucked up, like I’d done something terribly wrong. With a defeated look on my face, I dragged myself over to Nathaniel’s tent. He knew right away what had happened. To my surprise, he didn’t laugh at my pitiful failure. He wasn’t upset. He didn’t lecture me. Instead, he stepped forward and pulled me into a tight hug. We stayed like that in silence for a while, the only sound being his soft, gentle purr rumbling against me. After a long moment, he finally spoke.

“I’m so sorry, Jon.”

“It’s all my fault…” I muttered against his chest. “I failed him and he abandoned me.”

He suddenly pulled back and looked at me with those piercing icy blue eyes. “Do NOT say that!”

“Then what?” I snapped, my voice cracking. “Stormy left! He didn’t want me anymore…”

“No, Jon. You shut him out. And when he finds his way back to you, he’s going to be really upset, let me tell you. I’ve never seen Storm this obsessed about someone before.”

“How did I shut him out?? I wanted to see him!”

“You feel too much depression, too much anger and frustration.”

“How the hell do you know that?”

Nathaniel gave me a small, knowing smile. “I’m a special kind of dragon. As part of a rare species, I have access to resources others don’t — like being able to tap into the emotional memory sphere of anyone I choose.”

“Emotional memory sphere?”

“It’s like someone’s secret diary, a registry of all your feelings, both present and past. Usually no one can access it, but my kind can.”

“That’s… actually kind of neat. Does that come with your military training?”

“You wish!” he chuckled. “No, it comes with the sapphire, heh heh. They’re resonators.” He paused, then smirked. “So… ‘Stormy’, huh?”

I felt my face flush deep red. I hadn’t even realized I’d called him that out loud. “Don’t make fun of me, Nate!”

“Not at all,” he said gently. “I think it’s cute. It’s actually really beautiful. The other night, Storm seemed genuinely happy for the first time in a very, very long time.”

“That’s good…” I whispered.

“Hey, listen, Jon…” Nathaniel hesitated, his voice growing softer. “I don’t know if this is appropriate right now, but I’ve been thinking about things.”

“About what things?”

“Well… you come here every night and all. And I’ve been pretty lonely, with only Storm around. In my waking hours, I don’t get much of a break either. Seeing you with him…”

“What, you jealous or something, mister?” I teased. I caught a slight pink blush spreading across his muzzle.

“N-No…”

“Wait… you’re serious?” I couldn’t help but laugh. “That’s both ironic and hilarious!”

“Bite me!” he shot back, though there was no real heat in it. “I know how you feel about me… I saw your eyes trying their hardest to stay off my crotch!”

First Nevlaan, then Storm, and now Nathaniel… “Yeah, well, it’s not my fault if you’re a goddamn hunk of a draconic soldier…”

Nathaniel growled low in his throat. A playful grin spread across his face as he stepped closer and traced a paw slowly down my chest. “Oh? You think so, do you?”

He grinned at me and gave my shoulder a soft nip and I shivered uncontrollably. He drew very little blood and then lapped at it, growling again. He dragged my hands to his rump and make me grope his tight rump cheeks and snorted softly. I glanced down and already the trip of his black cock was peeking from its slit and dripping, filling the air with his draconic musk, a mix of driftwood and sage mixed with a characteristic reptilian hint. He had built this up for quite some time. His attention alone was enough to ignite my senses. I was hesitant to strip bare at the time, but it didn't take long before he did it for me! He damn nearly ripped my boxers off and pressed his muzzle to my chest, growling softly and clearly taking in my own musk. I was embarrassed as hell. I felt... you know, small. He looked up at me and got upset. “Wipe that look off your face and kiss me!”

I was just dumbfounded. I was stuck between wanting to jump him and make him roar and just being generally embarrassed and feeling unworthy. “Nate... why me? I mean, I'm just a boring human.”

“Yeah, and an annoying one right now. You’re quite enjoyable. Soft, fragile, and so deeply warm. If I'm going to protect your ass, I might as well enjoy it, right? Now quit being a pussy and kiss me!

I nodded slowly, moving in as I nuzzled his snout and kissed him, soon feeling his tongue moving in and dancing with mine. He held me, grinding our throbbing erections together, making me shiver and making me shake and moan. He growled lustfully, grinding us together, frotting until I couldn't take anymore and covered his chest in hot cum, making him hiss and growl suddenly, not even letting me finish my climax before he flipped me over, soon feeling his cock throb to my cheeks, suddenly moaning and growling deeply, feeling his own hot draconic seed covering my cheeks quite heavily, both of us panting quite hard, waiting and letting us catch our breath before moving and growling into my ear: “your ass is mine” followed by a loving growl and a playful grind to my ass while whispering “and next time, I damn well plan on claiming my prize.” He was incredibly dominant yet definitely loving and tender at the right time.

“You’re so sweet, Nate… I would like that. You don’t mind having a failure like me?”

That comment made him angry. His icy blue eyes turned cold in an instant, and he glared at me hard.

“Let’s make this clear right now,” he growled. “I will not tolerate this kind of behavior! If you’re going to be my mate and Storm’s pilot, you better straighten up!”

I didn’t expect those words at all. They left me completely dumbstruck. All I could do was mutter a weak “mate?” under my breath. He nipped me again, sharper this time.

“I don’t understand how I ended up here in the first place or why,” he continued, his voice softening just a little, “but if the All decided it was going to be this way, there has to be a good reason. We’d better make the best of it. Time to make my military training good for something other than killing.”

“That sounds good, Nate…” I whispered.

We hugged each other tightly after that. And he kept his promise. From then on, Nathaniel protected me and stayed by my side at all times, whenever I needed him. We mated many, many times, each session going deeper and more intense than the last. At first, he always took the lead, and I loved it — his soft bites, his dominant edge. I’d always been the submissive type, and he knew exactly how to handle me. But later on, he started letting me take control. I’d fill both his genital slit and his ass while he moaned and roared happily for me. I had no idea at the time, but he was secretly working on building up my self-confidence every single time we were together. It ended up paying off. One night, I was expecting another session with him. The moment I slipped into the dreamstate, I saw the hangar was back. My heart nearly stopped. It sure as hell skipped several beats. Nathaniel rushed over to me immediately.

“There you are,” he said with a warm smile. “Someone’s expecting you.”

“I see that… Stormy’s back? D-Do you know if he’s pissed at me?”

“Go find out… actually, never mind that. He’s here.”

He pointed behind me. The air suddenly filled with the familiar deep rumble of engines growing louder and closer. Soon, I laid eyes on the hulking mech as he stepped out of the shadows and made his way toward us. The feeling that washed over me was indescribable — a powerful mix of awe, love, and heavy guilt. His soft yellow eyes looked down at me as he stopped. That familiar exhaust scent hit me, and instantly my whole body relaxed. Every bit of tension melted away.

“How can you just breathe this in?” Nathaniel muttered beside me and coughed a bit. “It’s making my throat itch!”

“I don’t know… it’s relaxing. It’s warm and earthy.”

“You really are an activator…”

“A what?” That was the first time I ever heard that word. I would later learn the ugly truth behind what it really meant… for better or for worse.

“~Pilot…~”

For the first time, Storm’s usually booming and commanding voice trailed off into something softer.

“Hey, big guy… I’m so sorry…”

“~No need to apologize, Jon. I’m hungry. And thirsty. Come and service me.~”

That was the first time Storm had ever called me by my name. Nathaniel looked rather proud standing beside me.

“Go take care of your partner, Jon. I’ll nap for a while.”

My ‘partner’. That sounded incredible to me. “Really…? Okay…”

I followed Storm deeper into the hangar, my footsteps echoing softly against the vast metal floor. Nathaniel had already restored power — the enormous space hummed with life now, far bigger, and more imposing from the inside than it ever looked from outside. Towering walls rose into shadowed heights, and the air carried that familiar mix of ozone, warm metal, and faint lubricant.

Storm moved with heavy, deliberate grace until he positioned himself squarely on what I would later learn was his dedicated maintenance platform. His massive engines began their graceful power-down sequence, releasing a beautiful, descending whistle that trailed off like a sigh. Soon, the only remaining sound was the soft, constant hum of his tertiary systems. I’ll admit it disappointed me a little — I’d grown addicted to that deep, rumbling thunder of his primary engines.

There he stood right in front of me: this colossal, shark-like mech that would send most people running in terror. But to me, he was magnetic. Everything about him felt beautiful. The thick, earthy warmth radiating from his armored hull. That signature exhaust scent that wrapped around me like a comforting haze. The low, resonant vibrations I could feel even when he was mostly powered down. He was perfection — raw, powerful, and somehow alive. Storm guided me calmly through every step, his voice steady and patient in my mind. I gathered supplies from the nearby cart and dragged the heavy load back over to him. The quantity of fluid in the drums looked almost laughably small for something his size, but I’d learn later that this was just a test — he was checking whether I’d take the job seriously and do it right.

I carefully connected the hoses to his tank access panels. The instant they sealed, the sharp, raw scent of his fluids flooded my senses — thick, metallic, and strangely intoxicating. It hit me like a drug, making my head spin and sending a euphoric rush through my veins unlike anything I’d ever experienced. My hands trembled slightly with excitement as I hooked the lines to the large drums and activated the pumps. The fluids flowed steadily into his massive frame, and Storm let out a deep, satisfied sigh of relief that rumbled through the hangar — low, almost amused, and incredibly endearing. Once the drums ran dry, I disconnected everything and fetched the cleaning supplies. I’d decided on my own to give him a full, proper detailing — starting from the sharp tip of his beak, working all the way down to the powerful mechanical flukes at his tail, and paying special attention to every inch of his exhaust ports. It felt like my personal way of scrubbing away the guilt that still clung to me. I hoped he’d appreciate the effort… and he did. Storm remained almost perfectly silent throughout, offering only the occasional deep, contented “mmmm” that vibrated from deep within his chassis. When I finally finished, I wiped down the tools, stepped back, and looked up at his towering form. He stayed completely still and quiet. A sharp pang of worry hit me — had I gone too far? Overstepped some invisible boundary as his pilot?

“There…” I said softly, my voice carrying in the quiet hangar. “You’re all clean and full… well, as full as that could make you, anyway.”

Before I could say another word or even take a step back, Storm’s engines suddenly roared back to life with a deafening blast. A scorching wave of heat slammed into me like a physical wall, nearly knocking me flat on my ass. Hot exhaust gases blasted across my body, forcing me to cough violently as I squeezed my eyes shut against the onslaught. The world spun; my head went light and dizzy from the intensity— Then something firm clicked securely over my face. A breathing mask. Cool, filtered air rushed into my lungs, steadying me.

“Holy shit! Storm, what the fuck?!” I gasped, still reeling, heart pounding wildly in my chest as the heat continued to roll over me in waves.

Storm chuckled, a deep, resonant sound that vibrated through the hangar floor beneath my feet. I was only pretending to be angry — the obvious, aching tent in my pajama pants was betraying me completely, and I knew he could see it. My face burned, but I couldn’t stop the grin tugging at my lips. He kept chuckling, so I reached out and gave his massive foot plate a playful poke with my toe.

“Alright, you had your fun, big guy,” I said, trying (and failing) to sound stern.

“~Mmmm. Yes, pilot. Now, I want you to take over.~”

“Me…?” My voice came out smaller than I intended.

“~Yes. You will take control and pilot me manually.~”

“Storm…”

“~Do it!~” His tone was firm yet laced with playful command.

“O-Okay, big guy… I’ll do it.”

Before I could even brace myself, a strange, enveloping warmth washed over my entire body. For a dizzying split second, it felt like every part of me was being gently pulled apart and reassembled. The world blurred — then suddenly I was inside the familiar, dimly lit cockpit nestled deep within his armored plates. I blinked in confusion, my hands instinctively gripping the armrests of the pilot’s seat.

“Storm, what just happened? Is this… your cockpit?”

“~Yes. I warped you inside.~”

“Wait — you come equipped with a warp drive??”

“~I do, along with an array of defensive and offensive weapons. I was conceived as a battle machine, after all.~”

“I-I see…” I swallowed hard, a flutter of awe and nervousness mixing in my chest. “Glad you’re on my side.”

“~So am I, pilot.~”

Storm wasted no time teasing me. He started with light, deliberate engine revs. The powerful growl of his engines filled the cockpit, low and throaty at first. Then he pushed them higher. Without warning, he opened his exhaust ports fully and unleashed a thick, heavy wave of exhaust straight toward the cockpit vents. The hot gases poured in — rich, warm, and intensely earthy, carrying that sharp metallic tang I’d grown addicted to. The scent hit me like a drug: deep, smoky, and slightly sweet underneath the ozone and burnt fuel notes. It flooded my lungs with every breath, thick and velvety, making my head spin instantly. A powerful euphoric rush surged through my body, turning my limbs heavy and relaxed while sending sparks of pure pleasure straight to my groin. The heat soaked into my skin, warming me from the inside out, making me sweat and shiver at the same time. I could almost taste it on my tongue — warm metal and raw power. My eyes fluttered shut as I moaned loudly, hips bucking involuntarily in the seat while another wave of overwhelming pleasure crashed over me. That only made Storm chuckle again, deeper, and more satisfied this time.

“Storm! Quit doing that…” I gasped, half-laughing, half-breathless.

“~Why? You are fun to play with.~”

“Oh, I see how it is…” I muttered, still catching my breath. “I didn’t know mechs could be so naughty.”

“~Only those with an active organic matrix, like me.~”

“I don’t know what that means, but… you’re saying you’re part organic? Like a biomech?”

“~I am. Does that bother you?~”

“Not one bit,” I answered honestly, warmth spreading through me.

I felt for the controls that had materialized in front of my body and leaned back, letting myself relax. My muscles seemed to remember everything instinctively. I began moving his limbs slowly at first — the motions slightly syncopated and clumsy — but they quickly smoothed out into something completely fluid and natural. Storm told me the synchronicity between us was already as strong as it had been with his previous pilot. I walked him around the hangar a bit more, testing his power. The sheer raw strength surging through me was intoxicating… but my body tired quickly, exhaustion creeping in fast.

“~Pilot, you need to rest. This seems to take a great deal of energy from you.~”

“Yeah… I feel completely drained,” I admitted, breathing heavily.

“~I like keeping you exhausted. It makes you moan.~”

“Wait, what? Was that another mech joke?”

“~It was.~” Amusement colored his voice. “However, I do plan on sharing as much as you like.”

“You said ‘sharing’? As in…?”

“~My exhaust. I know you’ve taken a strong liking to it. And anything else you wish for. I am yours, pilot. If you will accept me as your partner.~”

“YES! Yes, I do, Storm…” My voice softened with real emotion. “I accept you wholeheartedly.”

“~Thank you, pilot. Now, please rest. I will keep you safe for now. Later, we can train further. You will learn everything there is to know about my systems.~”

It took almost no time at all for me to pass out right there in his pilot’s seat — in my seat. As I drifted off, I couldn’t stop thinking about how much I craved that thick, warm exhaust whenever he let it wash over me. The way it flooded my lungs, heavy and earthy with that sharp metallic tang, making my head spin and my body limp with pleasure. It was addictive — like breathing in pure comfort and raw power all at once. The heat that came with it would soak into my skin, relaxing every muscle while sending sparks of euphoria straight through me. I wanted more of it. I wanted all of it. From that night onward, Storm and I grew closer and closer, our bond deepening with every shared moment and every intoxicating breath of his exhaust.

Nathaniel, meanwhile, became like the big brother I never knew I needed — the kind who nags you constantly, has his way with you whenever he wants, but would also happily kick the ass of anyone who dared mess with me.

Things were finally starting to stabilize themselves again. However, many of my questions remained unanswered, such as: why am I tied to Sorvaa'hr, Nathaniel's great great grandfather and Storm's previous pilot? What happened between them to pull them apart? What is this ominous “cataclysm” Nathaniel spoke of? And what is this “activator” title that Nathaniel has given me, and which he refuses to speak further of?

The next dreamsphere would reveal more but also turn out to be much different from the previous ones.

To be continued...